A NEW ZEALAND REMINISCENE. Escape of the Chatham Island Prisoners. (BY THE MATE OF THE RIFLEMAN.)

Te Aroha News, Volume III, Issue 116, 22 August 1885, Page 5

A NEW ZEALAND REMINISCENE. Escape of the Chatham Island Prisoners. (BY THE MATE OF THE RIFLEMAN.)

The Chathams are a favourite place of call for South Sea whalers, a8 there they get their supplies of vegetables and fresh provisions at a reasonable rate, and without running the risk of losing any of their crew, as sometimes happens at the Bay of Islands and other places. We carried a couple of Rood boats on board our schooner, in which we conveyed the Maori passengers ashore. As I bade Marta good-bye, I remarked to her that I hoped to take her and her brother back with us on our return voyage to Auckland, and that we would run into the Bay of Plenty, and put them ashoro at Maketu. To this she laughingly replied, " KapaiKapai " ( ' k Very good, very good ">. , For the greater part of the day we were all very busily employed getting our cargo landed j but we got finished by four o'clock or thereabouts, and then I went ashore to have a look around the place. I found there were only a couple of stores in the township, and a few whares, some of the latter being inhabited by Maoris^ but the greater number by Morioris, or natives. The stockade was situated a short distance off, and was surrounded by a parapet and trench. Having entered a store and exchanged the usual salutations with the proprietor, I was introduced to two or three of the soldiers from the redoubt. They had strolled down to pass the time and hear the news, and, with the usual colonial frankness and hospitality I was invited by them to have a drink. As the Government only allows bottled ales and porters to be sold, I consented, and we passed an agreeable hour or two in discussing the various political, social, and industrial questions^ then occupying public attention on the mainland. From time to time during the course of our conversation other soldiers dropped in, till bho placo at last became quite full. As one subject after another came under discussion, the conversation grew animated, and loud and "tall" talk became general. Rangi and one or two of our former passengers dropped in as if by accident. The Maori chief appeared to be very flush of money, and at last insisted on entertaining all in the house. As might be expected, the consequence of this unwonted liberality was, are the bugle sounded the last post, the 3oldiers, to put it mildly, were in an exbremely happy state. I, however, proceeded on board, whore I arrived all safe; and next morning we commenced to take in cargo for Auckland, which consisted principally of potatoes and whale oil. As an the previous day, our work was over by the afternoon ; and so I again went ashore, and found the same congregation of festive 3pirits at the store — soldiers,sailors, whalers, Maoris, and Movioris, all indiscriminately mixed up. From the confused babel of 3OimdB which met my ear as I approached, [ apprehended they must have been keeping it up pretty briskly all day. I was not left long in doubt on that point, for onnearing Lho verandah, the sergeant at once stepped down to shake hands and bidmewelcome,his effusiveness and rather unsteady gait showing pretty plainly that he had been indulging rather freely. Having taken my arm, he, without circumlocution, said, " Gomealong, old fellow ; no swipes at present. Come with me, and I will show you something W-VUI LtUUI the»C." WiliU iU»o l»vr loci nao tO the back of the house, and afterwards penetrated the scrub of soft and pliable manuku for about one hundred yards. We then lighted upon a party of five or six Boldiers, who with Rangi in the mid3t, and threeorf our other Maoris around, wereseated beside a five-gallon keg of pisco, a strong palo brandy, manufactured in Northern Peru, a good supply of which whalers were accustomod to carry. They are not in the least averse to sell or trade in it, as opportunity offers ; and the present supply had been procured from one of the crew of the whaler which had arrived the previous day, and we were assured ho was quite willing to supply as much more if any one choso to pay for it. I was rather surprised when I was told that Rangi was the host, and that ho had supplied the whole entertainment. I hardly knew what to make of it. Relay followed relay from the redoubt, one of the soldiers having informed his comrades^ the tin pannikin making its orbit with little intermission, and that very quickly. As each party was served, they made their way back to the store, to vary their enjoyments with swilling malt liquor, the usual animated discussions ensuing as a matter of course. These men, it may here be remarked, had high pay, and had no means of spending it properly; their duties, too, were almost nominal, as they had only one inspection and a twenty-four hours' guard once a week ; so that, taken altogether, they had little to complain of. The Maori prisoners, who wereconfined ma separate buildinginside the stockade, were also very well treated ; for with the exception of furnishing an occasional fatigue party, they passed all their time in smoking and playing cards. The lieutenant in charge was an elderly gentleman, who occupied himself mostly in wildfowl shooting, leaving the duties of the garrison almost entirely to his subordinates. I must confess that when I got on board that night I was quite ready for my bunk, and Captain B , who had been ashore with me, was quite as ready for his. We got aboard about ten o'clock, and immediately thereafter turned in, and I was soon in a profound slumber. I had thus been asleep for some four or five hours, when I was awakened by a confused noise on deck. I heard a sort of babbling of many tongues, besides a hurried scuffling of naked feet, intermingled with the short sharp cries of men, who appeared to be pulling in the halliards. Listening more attentively for a minute, I could hear the rush of water, the vessel at the same time careened over to leeward, and then at once I knew that we were actually under weigh. To jump out of my cot and throw on a few articles of clothing was but the work of a moment. I reached the cuddy door, and perceived day was just breaking, and by the dim light thus afforded saw that the deck was covered by dußky forms, a few of whom wore Maori mats and blankets, but the greater part had European costume. Rangi apparently was the directing spirit amongst them ; he was moving swiftly from group to group, giving eiders m sharp excited tones, and had evidently taken oommand of the ship. The whole plot now was revealed ; all had been a cunniiigly-de-vised scheme to liberate the prisoners, and especially the notorious rebel and Hauhan prophet and fanatic, Te Kooti. I afterwards learned that, as arranged with Rangi and kis party outside, the prisoners had made a rush before midnight, cutting down the sentry, on their own quarters, Immediataly afterwards overpowering ,and disarming the sentry at the gate, leaving him gagged, stunned, and quite taeipleea< The remainder of the guard were next disi armed and bo^nd ; so th,at the main body

had no suspicion of the state of matters till well on next morning. Moanwhile Rangi and his friends outside had scoured all the boats and wicker oanoes of the natives, and had 'within half an hour of the first rush gained the deck of the schooner without opposition and made all secure ere I woke. Having aroused Captain B and informed'him what had happened, he, as may be imagined, was greatly astonished, and looked very helpless, and no wonder ; for, looked at in any light, the prospect was anything but cheerful. At last we resolved to turn in again to our cots, as the best course open to us under the circumstances, and there await the further development of the plot. , We had thus rested for about an hour, when Rangi called us up. He was seated at the little table in the cabin, and had a double-barrelled gun slung en bandouliSre around him. He was naked to the waist, and spoke with a ferocity and gesticulation that caused the shark's tooth attached to his right ear by a black ribbon to swing like a pendulum, „. . . . " Look here, men," he said, " this ship is now mine. We are about clear of the bay ; but Shoupah, the god of the winds, w getting angry, so I want you to take ua to Taneroa (Poverty Bay), and to take us quickly. If you attempt to go into any other port, you know what will happen. He then ordered us forward to look after the We went forward and down the forecastle, and observed that the Maoris had removed the greater part of the bulkhead betwixt the fore and main hold, spreading their mats and blankets on the top of the potatoes and barrels of whale oil. They were squatted in every conceivable position, smoking and card-playing. There were between sixty and seventy of them, including eight or nine females, amongst whom 1 observed Marta, who had doubtless accompanied her brother. Whilst clearing the bay the weather looked squally, and the sea was getting up. On consulting the barometer, I saw that it was falling rapidly, so calling all hands, we took in all sail and battened down the hatches, leaving her under a storm-jib, close reefed fore-sail, and spanker. The wind had been gradually hauling round from the south-west, and I perceived we were in for a regular "northerly buster,! 1 one of those violent tempests which for the time make the New Zealand coast seem to be the headquarters of iEolus. These hurricanes nearly always last for three days, and they occur at pretty regular intervals, winter and summer alike. Tbe old schooner was a capital sea boat, her timbers and planking staunch and strong. She stood up bravely and stiffly to the gale, which was every moment increasing in violence, and it was only when we were putting her about that she took in a sea, which sent the natives below, bufc otherwise did no damage. As evening closed in, however, a tremendous sea was running, and we wero thus obliged to lay her to, to await better weather. Te Kooti (the prophet) and Rangi had taken possession of the cabin, and Rangi requested Marta to take up her old quarters, but she declined, preferring to be amongst the other Maori women and in the company of her brother below. As the night deepened, the howling of the gale was terrific, and the vessel was bobbing up and down like a cork on the waters. Te Kooti, prophet and priest though he was, became muceh alarmed. He caused his bed to be shifted from the captain's cot, which he occupied, to the cabin table, and as he lay right under the swing lamp, he tried by reading to concentrate his thoughts on his Maori Bible ; but that seemed to be an expedient only partially successful, for every few minutes he laid it flown and took up the HauHuu Uyuiu-UuuK, « oOi»ugc m»l»uge of Scriptural texts and secular songs. When the vessel gave a greater roll than usual he would ejaculate short appeals to the pagan gods of his ancestors. His countenance, it may be observed, was of a doathly pallor; but he was not tattooed, and he looked thin and careworn, the short hacking cough which never left him being a sure indication that, whether on sea or on shore, his career was not likely to be a prolonged one. He was the only Maori on board who seemed to have any dread, for as I glancpd below on the prostrate forma of the natives as they lay wrapped in their mats and blankets, they seemed to accept the situation with that philosophy which is characteristic of the race. When morning broke, the gale still blow with hurricane force. Te Kooti had a little before daybreak fallen into a troubled sleep, but when I entered the cabin later on to glance at the barometer, he and Rangi were in earnest conversation. I knew enough of the Maori language to understand that he was gravely recounting the particulars of a dream which he had had in his sleep. I made out that the great Atua himself had appeared unto him, and warned him that the winds would not cease^ to blow nor the seas to rage until the victim whom Atua led before him was offered up as a sacrifice to their ancient gods. The person designated as led before him by the Atua was young and a Maori ; but be could not see his face, as it was veiled in his blanket, and his head drooped down on his breast. As the Maoris pufc great faith in dreams, a korero, or council of the oldest men in the ship, was called by Rangi. They assembled before the round house, and squatted down in three or four rows. Te Kooti kept his prostrate position inside the cabin, where he could see the proceedings through the open door. A sentry was placed forward to prevent any of the young men or women appearing at the deliberations. When all was arranged, Rangi took up his position in the open space betwixt the cabin and those assembled. He held a mere in his right hand as a symbol of authority ; and although the circumstances were unfavourable to the usual style of florid and demonstrative oratory praatised by the Maoris, still he did not fail to make a deep impression on the group he addressed. His words, so far as I could catch them, were something to the following effect :-- "Friends, the Tabunga (priest), who is ill, deputes me to address you. Ido so willingly. We have escaped from the prison of the Pakeha ; but the gods have become angry with us, and we are all likely to perish. But the great Atua himself has appeared to the prophet during the night, and has told him that tho Pyps (the Egyptian Typhon, or power of Evil) will relent, and will give us smiling soas and a speedy return to the land if we casfc from amongst us him who has brought down upon us this evil. Who ia this man ? do you ask. Know you not that we have amongst us one of the accursed race of the Arawas, our deadly enemies, those firm friends ot thePakehas, who have left us homeless and landless, and who have acted as the sleuth-hounds to lead our enemies to their prey? Have they not robbed us oi the inheritence of our ancestors at Opot*ki i have they not all but exterminated t^e once powerful tribe of the Uriweras* And now the great' Atua himself has signiHed his will that this Arawa who is now amongst us be offered up »s a saoriflce, so that' the winds and the waves may be at rest. . When he ceased, a general "Ugh, ugh, and murmur of aßsent passed through the i ranks. Rangi, 9wUt to, tajso advantage of

the impression he had made, signalled to - two of his men to bring- before. them,Honi^ Parata, the Arawa.' The men, as ordered,* ' went below,* and i soon reappeared; wjth Honi. He f was,a young man, apparently about nineteen years of age, tall and exeot, witK a bold and confident- look. 'He seated himself, asdirected, in themidstofthe group, , calm and impassable. Rangi, as the mouth- * piece of the prophet and council, then addressed him. He recounted first the prophet s dream, and then continued— " Honi Parata, we have escaped from the Pakehas, and are now on the, great sea, tossed by the tempest, and going we know not where, to , destruction probably. But, as I have told' you, the great Atua has appeared to Te > Kooti in a dream, and he has declared that, Shoupah, the god of the winds and the waves, will only be pacified by a' sacrifice, and that not of a white man or a slave, but of a young man and one of a party 6i noted warriors j and the sacrifice, to be effectual, must be voluntary, Honi Parata, wilt thou be the man ?" The undaunted bearing of the young Maori hardly underwent any perceptible alteration ; there was only a slight quiver of the lip as he murmured in a low tone " I will," and then, as one who felt himself standing on the threshold of tho unseen world, the missionary teaching of his boyhood reverted to him, and in a low voice he uttered, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." The victim then quietly seated himself on the deck, when the prophet himself arose and proceeded to cut a lock from the young man's black curly hair, and, casting it upwards, it was caught by the wind and carried far away to leeward. m Suddenly the young man rose, and with a great bound he sprang clear of the bulwarks, and the next moment he was in the heart of an immense billow which rose clear of the ship. When he emerged he was observed swimming with that consummate ease which distinguishes his race ; he next turned on his back, and was then lost to view in the volume of spray and mist on all sides. During all this time Marta was below dressing flax, quite unconscious of her brother's fate. About half an hour after he had jumped overboard our carpenter^ went below, and in his imperfect Maori tried to make the girl comprehend what had happened. Not quite understanding what he said, but making out that something serious had happeaed, she of once hastened on deck, pushed aside the sentry who tried to stop her, and rushed aft. "What means this korero? Where is Honi ?" she inquires, first of one and then another, without receiving any reply. I felt like a man under a spell, and almost instinctively ordered the men to allow the vessel's head to fall off and one or two to assist me at the tiller. I cannot say precisely what was my motive in doing so ; I suppose it was an impulse of pity and intense sympathy for the young girl— a desire to give her a last look of Honi, mingled with a reckless longing for the next see to overwhelm us all. But round went the schooner bravely, and was borne swiftly down to the spot where the young man struggled. I knew he was there by the flock of alba J trosses, Cape hens, Mother Careys chickens, and gulls which hovered about. They were holding high carnival, and with discordant screams and cruel eyes were already quarrelling over the body so soon to be their own. As we neared the place where I thought there might be a chance of seeing him, Marta clung to the mainmast, maintaining herf ooting with some difficulty. With keen vision she scanned the waste of waters, and as we approached the sea-birds a dark object loomed out of the waters from amongst them. It was Honi ; he had recognised the ship and his sister, and was apmvently much exhausted, but a cry like a J'>ng wail reached us, sounding like, "Mitba, eraini, erami !" ("Come, come quickly ! I sink.") In a moment, like a flash of light she was over the side of the vessel, making her way with rapid strokes to the side of her drowning brother. It was the last we saw of them j no boat could live in that sea. Before we could run the vessel to and bring her to the wind all trace of them was lost, and the sacrifice was complete, As I looked through the glass at the spot where we had last seen them, a venerable white-haired Maori pointed out to mo a spot where a flash of foam rose from the cresfc of a wave. "Te huka, te huka" ( "The foam, the foam !"} he cried; " 'Tis the spirit of Marta in its flight to the reinga (heaven), and in three days she will become a little star." It was the simple faith of his fathers, and Marta had acted in his eyes a noble part in following to the land of spirits one whom she had loved so well. Shortly afterwards the gale commenced to break, the lulls became longer, and the sea was much calmer, when the Maori women appeared from below, and forming themselves into groups with a few of the men intermingled, they proceeded to celebrate the tangi, or lamentation for the dead. Their wails and sobs as they performed their apparently never-ending circles round the ship were heart-rending, and lasted far into the night, the screams of the sea-birds at the same time greatly adding to the mournful sounds. Morning broke fresh and fair, the sky was without a cloud, the sun shone forth, brilliantly, and the wind which had veered round to the south-west just kept the sails full. I was now enabled to take an observation, and I found that we were 600 miles from the East Capo, but as we had a leading wind I hoped to make the land in four days. As anticipated, we made a good landfall, and on the evening of the fourth day the East Cape was in sight; the Maoris at once recognised it, and were greatly elated; as for the crew of the schooner, their feelings were rather the reverse. Would they massacre us? alb questioned, and afterwards set fire to tho ship, and so add another to the long list of misdeeds of a similar kind of which they had been guilty ? Such thoughts were coursing through our mindß when we rounded Cape Runaway the next morning and cast anchor in Wangaparawa Roads. In that short; time we realised something of the feelings which those probably experience who lie under sentence of death. Our two boats having been hoisted over the side, they were at once loaded to the gunwale, the remaining Maoris jumping overboard and swimming ashore* They landed at an old whaling; station, where a fire had been lighted by. some friends who had apparently been on the lookout for them. Other fires shortly afterwards sprang up from point to, point on the coast, so that their arrival was soon signalised over the whole, district. We, however, saw no more of them, and when darkness set in weighed anchor and set sail for Auckland, leaving our boats on the beaoh, only too glad to escape, with this trifling loss. When ha arrived afe> Auckland and reported- tha escape of the prisoners to the authorities, it was too late to take steps for their capture. ,[ .In the meantime Te Kooti and his band ; had fallen upon the- settlers, in Poverty.! Baj^piasaacring' them all 1 . > Immediately^^t|^Sie butoherythey made their escape toltSf^ngcountry, andup to the period of xogft 'leaving, the .colony, some'years afterwards, nqt on*, of them had been taken; -'• - i »a <; f