NORTHERN JOTTINGS.

Evening Star, Issue 3432, 20 February 1874, Page 3

NORTHERN JOTTINGS.

N°. 3. \Fi'om ow oion Correspondent. ) TARIHAKA. (Continued from pur lad issue.) At the opposite side of the square stood the ' prophet, with his spear in hand and hia followed grouped around him—a mild, ippjiensive-lopking man. At times he would attempt pontroverting Te Whlti’s assertions ana doctrines, anon propound his own bpin*P??} ?“*?•’ a P9e into Silence and subjection, IIT- 1 ? his opponent would pour forth torrents of argument and vituperation—a dwarf Hpnyipg agamst a giant. He speedily found lie nSr ?P phance to make proselytes at Earihaka. f- PPP* *} copuneneed to, rain, when the Oratory cedsed and the feasting began. 1 The * f?r^ e Wf* 8 laid m this manner. A number of the young men brought in bundles of' fern Jpaves, "which they scattered oyer tKfj centre of the square, to serve as a table cloth, on which the viands were to be laid. The pigs, cooked

whole in Maori ovehs, were brought in and laid on the fern ; and baskets of kumeras, potatoes, md corn were piled around, in quantities sufficient to feed the whole gathering. After a 'hort pause two or three in authority stepped to the front and superintended the distribution of the food, giving so much pork and so many baskets of vegetable to different parties, when the women belonging to each section of residents or visitors carried away tbe allotted portions to their respective quarters, and the main business of the day was considered to be at an end. This programme of talking and feasting takes place every month. The largest meetings, however, are in September and March—the Maori idle-time between harvest and planting. For a long time these gatherings have taken place, and the Hauhaus ot Parihaka tire not of planting the large crops necessary to feed their numerous visitors, Maoris believe believe both in ninungas and feast days. The feast generally follows the korero. Te Whiti’s object seems to be t© induce those over whom he has influence to revert partially to the customs of old Maoridom and adopt other analogous, yet differing from those in vogue among Europeans. Our calendar is different to the one they have adopted, which they maintain' to be correct; they only have one Sunday in the month, their talking and feasting day; they consider the bare necessaries of life sufficient for them, if they retain their lands, without the adjuncts of civilization; their theological opinions, as yet not fully formed, will be probably modelled on Scripture ; their marital relations are extra pedum, ecclesia:; they own no sovereignty or law but their own; the Queen’s writ travels not in their midst; and they purpose by isolation and self-denial to conserve their property and perpetuate their race. It is better they say to grow their own food than to be paupers, either rich or poor, and fed by the Colonial Government.

The village has been formed only about four years, yet in the urupa, or burying ground, on a hill immediately outside the village fence, lie one hundred and fifty dead. The men and women, when ill, lie down and die—they have no doctor, and seek no relief. I was asked to go and see a woman only a day removed from the grave, but she scowled at me, and wanted to know why the Pakeha could not let even a Maori die in peace, without embittering by his presence her last hours. They have no church except their quadrangle ; no school in which to educate their children; no literature of any kind to amuse or instruct them; and what knowledge they possess of events transpiring in Parliament affecting their interests is filtered through imperfect European or Maori channels. Yet, earnestly as they may strive to preserve their isolation and the habits of their forefathers, European customs and modes of life insensibly creep in among them, of which Te Whiti’s mode of oratory is a striking example. He speaks like a polished English orator. The children amuse themselves 1 with European games—rounders,'single stick, ball and trap; while the youth instruct themselves in cavalry and infantry drill. Two or more Maori grog shanties are to be found in the village, retailing unlicensed Maori rum at the modest price of 7s a bottle. At these monthly meetings a large quantity of this evil beverage is consumed, sowing sore heads, disordered stomachs, and the seeds of future death.

The visitors from Waikato were camped in whares immediately opposite the one I occupied. They kept studiously aloof from the rest of the gathering. After the rebuff their prophet had received they had manifesto i a reluctance to partake even of the food given them ; but the odor of the viands, and the cravings of the inner man, proved too much even for Maori stoicism. Morning and evening they would gather together and indulge in a subdued melancholy, devotionalcbant—therefrain of which consisted m rehearsing portions of the multiplication table. I failed to learn what connection arithmetic could have with Pai-Mairire theology. They were all poorly clad; rags patched with patches: ' an unwashed, greasy, grimy lot. Pai-Mairire faith and practice seem more fatal and dirty even than Hauhauisin, whatever form the ultimate tenets of the Hauhaus may assume. I noticed among them an old woman clad in a ragged Crimean shirt and a calico skirt, with a heavy gold watch guard around her neck, to which was suspended a massive gold watch—watch and guard probably mementoes of past Waikato warfare and spoilation of the dead The Maoris at Opunake have displayed much valuable jewellery since the wreck of the Lord Worsley on the coast, . evening following the feast, we were invited to the Oouncil or rununga house, where some two hundred and fifty men were assembled. They were all nude, save a blanket thrown over their shoulders, which speedily fell to the ground encircling their loins, as the tainted air became denser. TeWhiti occupied a raised dais—the seat of honor—at the end of the bouse, with the men of influence gathered around him. He affects to hare no interest or guidance in mundane affairs, apparently leaving material interests to the secular heads of his people. ' A stranger asking any information from him will receive the answer, “Go and talk to my children.” The door and windows of the whare were closed, a small fire was smouldering on the floor, and in a few minutes the heat became terrific. So thickly were the Natives squatted together that scarcely room for another adult could ho found in the whare. As a sweating process these gatherings are unequalled—perspiration actually streaming from every pore. Turkish and vapor baths are nought in comparison. I endured with saturated patience the council chamber for half-an-hour,and then departed to change the meagre clothing which I had retained, from whence ’the perspiration could Hteridly b? wrung. One or tvfo of the lading afterwards came (\nd mjn me. a visit ip my’own are, bringing a, 1 of Hjeqnessy’s brandy with them, ana the korero ran far oh towards daybreak. Te W-hiti has been a’ son of Rechab from' Ids youth. After breakfast the next moping our horses were saddled and brought to our wharq do,or, when amid liindly farewells and pressing invitations tq retqrq moon, lye started pn pqr return journey. It is generally considered that the Parihaka Natives and those at Titpkq’s pa are the most unruly lot on the West Coast of the Island—those Seated from the White Cliffs to Kawqia, To have a mean o| communication behind Mount Egmont, and so to be enabled' in ease of trouble to out them off from thp interior seems to be the purpose of the Government iu forming the new mountain road. There appears, however, to be no fear of any fresh outbreak in this quarter unless some gross act of injustioo, as they would consider, should be perpetrated against them.' I hey feel disposed to adopt passive instead lof active resistance as their future role. They are well off for arms and ammunition. They care not for European visitors unless known or introduced being suspicious of hidden springs of action that may be brought to bear on their future. To myself, however, they were kind and hospitable, as though I had been an old and intimate acquaintance.