AMONG THE HAUHAUS.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LIII, Issue 107, 13 August 1910, Page 10

AMONG THE HAUHAUS.

(By K. W. Robson).

TRUE TALES OF THE 'SIXTIES.

Abaufc the .time tiiat Colonel Whitmore was chasing Titokowaru into the remote fastnesses of Taranaki, and Te Kooti, with his blood-thirsty Haufcaus was resuming activities at the back of Poverty Bay, Peter Muirson, Scotchman immigrant, and. youthful adventurer, decided to wander up the East Coast of the North Island a<s far as civilisation extended. Well-wishers earnestly advised him against it. If he went about the country unprotected l and alone, they said, there was every' prospect of his interesting career ending tragically under a Bauhau tomahawk or mere. But Peter went,, and eventually reached Napier. Napier has experienced some fairly exciting times, and was not inclined to be unduly troubled by the presence of certain belligerent Maoris in the district. Peter found .the township dull and colorless, and looked for work. At his hotel were (Messrs Ross and Munro, Government surveyors, bound for some remote place north of Gisborne—or Ranganui, as it was then. Peter agreed to join the surveying gang, and to meet the principals in itanganui a fortnight hence.

"But," said Mr. Ross, in troubled tones, "how are you going to get there? We are going up by steamer." Peter's laconic "Walk," brought forth a stream of protests. He ; would go directly through the dangerous Hauhau country, in which there had been many murders and narrow escapes. And Te Kooti was out again—there was no doubt of that; Peter, "humping bluey," set stubbornly off. Once he was clear of the town, he found the country almost deserted. That night, without mishap, he arrived at a lonely roadside hotel, kept by a family named (let us say) McKenzie—man, wife, and two good-looking daughters. The Maoris hod terrorised the district, and the traveller was heartily welcomed. No man who could use a gun was a superfluity in a house in those days. Peter Muirson remained there only two nights, anxious as they were to keep him longer. On the second evening, the man who carried l the mails over that lonely road, and took his life in his hands every time he did so, was. a fel-low-dodger. Little conversation sufficed to show Peter that there was a, love match imminent between the more youthful Misa McKenzie and l young Ludlow.

I The mail-carrier left at 5. o'clock the following morning, and, four or five hours later, Peter followed Mm. He had tramped only a few miles when he saw something on the road before him. He found that it was a mail-bag. "JJapierWaJroa," was the lettering upon it. "Must have fallen off Ludlow's packhorse," said Peter, and, throwing the bag across his shoulders, trudged on again. Then he found another bag, and he began to be alarmed. The horees' tracks, too, were not quite ' regular. This also was a disturbing sign. '<Hauhaus," muttered Peter, apprehensively, and began to travel along more cautiously, peering up at the high cliffs for signs of Maoris. When he came upon two more he felt his worst suspicions confirmed. Rounding a bluff, he saw the two horses standing at the roadside, the younger with the riding saddle twisted round under its belly. Not faT away lay the shapeless, inanimate body of 'Ludlow. He was quite dead. Blood bad. trickled from a small,, round hole on Iris forehead. There was not a, Maori to foe seen—nothing, indeed, except what Peter regarded as their sanguinary handiwork. It was bad enough to have to race back to the hotel with the terrible story. Peter found it infinitely worse to have to carry his fateful news to the i young girl who had only parted from her lover that morning. The well-armed party that went back made a more thorough examination than Peter had done, and it was able to exonerate the Maoris. Ludlow had been riding a young, skittish horse, which apparently had shied and'galloped some distance. Then the saddle had "turned 1 " and the rider had been thrown on Ms head. The little round hole in his forehead was accounted for in a singular way. Close to where he lay the searchers found a tiny sharp pinnacle of rook, upon which he had fallen. IPeter re-1 mained in ithe hotel until the inquest and funeral were concluded, and then resumed his journey, glad to escape! from the gloomy grief-fctricken place. That night at dusk he reached the Mohaka pa, occupied by a section of a friendly tribe' ■ Peter elected to sleep but there was not a Maori in sight, and the great walls of the pa presented an inaccessible barrier. Peter, tramped disconsolately round, seeking entrance, and at last discovered a small hole. He investigated gingerly, and then pushed his swag through and crawled after it. Rows of big fires made the interior bright and cheerful, and Peter was seen at once.

"Te pakeha! Te pakeha!" shrilled a wahine, and there was a rush towards the somewhat alarmed Peter. He was conducted into the presence of the chief, an intelligent, dignified, and much re-, epeoted half-caste, who at once promised him accommodation.

"Have you seen any Hauhaus?" was his first question, but Peter said he had seen nothing of the marauders. He spent the night very comfortably, but in the morning was awakened by a harsh, blustering, very unpleasant voice just outside the whare. "Wal, so you darn niggers been enter•tainm' a white man last night? Why the (unmentionable) didn't you send the (superfluous)) cuss along to me?" He was a huge-built, 6haggy-whiskered whaler, a domineering personality in his day, but intemperance had pulled him down, and he lived in a rude bark whare at the mouth of the river, killing himself with rum, a young wahine his only companion. The chief courteously explained that Peter had arrived late in the pa; but the whaler only cursed him for a "dura nigger." He said that he expected Peter to accompany him to his cabin dowji the river,' and' Peter, after one look at (the big man, did not find it in him to refuse.

The whaler produced a small keg of rum and two pannikins, and helped Peter liberally. Peter took a sip, and spluttered. The spirit seemed 50 per cent, over-proof, and vile in proportion. His host turned 1 his 'back momentarily, and he emptied his pannikin quickly on to a heap of riibbisfc beside him. "Good rum?' f roared the giant, tuning 'back. Peter, encountering the red ferocity of his eye, said it was good rum. "Have another," said the whaler. Peter had another. Both pannikins were replenished; The big man a toast, leaned forward menacingly, and drank. Peter, Vastly unhappy, was forced to do l&g----wjse. He shut his eyes and gulped t«« awful staff down. "Good ■ rwfct" enquired the whaler, ,soJnewhat jtone ami«ably. "Verra good," gasped tha mis«rabl« feeling as if *e hod Bwallowed a youflg Vesuviao,

"Have another!'' His eye was redder and more ferocious, ami Peter dared not refuse. He took the brimming pannikin, and at that moment the whaler lay back and began to roar out a ribald song. Like a flash, Peter emptied the mm on to the rubbish heap. Glancing round he got a bad scare. The stolidity-smoking wahine was watching him. "Huh!" was all she said, The terrible old man had been drinking earlier in the morning, and was now fast becoming stupid. Peter waited his opportunity, and presently he shouldered his swiag and slipped quietly away. Arriving at the Wairoa redoubt, Peter was conducted before the major in command, and was able to report that he had seen nd sign of the Hauhaus-. "You can stay here to-night," said the major. "But what are you going to do to-morrow?"

"Going to fianganui," said Peter. "Impossible, my man," said the major, "There are 20 miles of dense forest ahead of you, full of Hauhaus. Are you armed ?" Peter produced his sheath-knife. He said he was not afraid of the Hauhaus, and was going to continue his journey. Before he left the following morning the major sent Mm a large six-chamber-ed revolver and a quantity of ammunition. There was a number af natives about the redoubt, and Peter stopped certain of tliem and, in Maori, asked the directions concerning his route. But the Maoris pulled their mats tightly about them, and stalked contemptuously away, vouchsafing him nq word. They 1 were distinctly unfriendly. Peter trudged steadily on through the heavy, gloomy forest. It was intensely; quiet, and very lonely. Peter was not] a particularly timorous young man, butj even his nerves were affected, and he found the major's revolver a source of some comfort. When early darkness approached' he built a small fire beside the track, made coffee, dined, and went to sleep at the foot of a big pine. When morning came he was not so easy in his mind. Something, he could not tell what, had tended to disturb him, and he hurried along, keeping a very wary lookout for some sign of the natives. An hour or two later he came to a large natural clearing. The track re-entered the bush at the otherside, a mile and a half away. It was easy to understand ■that, if the Hauhaus. were watching the track, they would watch it from the edge of this clearing: 'As he hurried across the open, Peter felt remarkably unhappy, and decided that he was a fool to have disregarded the warnings recently showered upon him. With real terror he swung round, and saw two men in iEuropean clothes coming after him, a mile away. Peter cast hi 9 swag upon the ground, and sat upon it. His relief was very great. "Why," he said, "if I'd only known those fellows were close to me last night we might have camped very comfortably together." As the men drew nearer, Peter watched them closely, and suddenly discovered that they were Maoris—not white men. One carried a huge spear; the other was armed with a tomahawk. Many of Te Kooti's ruffians wore the pakeha dress. Peter's scalp experienced a tingling sensation, and the perspiration ran down his face. "My God," he muttered, "I'm up against it now." A still closer view of the natives showed that they were both old men, and he gripped his revolver with one hand', and his lenife with the other, and resolved to make a fight for it. He determined to*shoot them both down as they apprdached, but as they made friendly signs, his British sense of fair play revolted against this idea, and he thought diplomacy might stand him in better stead. , , .

The Maoris came up, squatted down, and demanded tobacco. One hand in his pocket, grasping the revolve*, Peter supplied item. "Matches," was their next request, and these, too, the anxious Scotchman produced. Then he asked them who they were. "We Queen's Maori," said one. Peter chose to disbelieve him. He indicated their weapons The Maoris said they were going pighuwfcmg, and that they would accompany Peter oyer the next few miles. Peter did not express unbounded delight. He asked if they had seen any Hauhaus. They said that they had not, and did not wish to. They let it be understood that they cherished bitter enmity towards the Haufoaus and that the latter were present in force not far away. When they moved;off, the natives courteously stood aside, so that Peter might walk before them, but Peter firmly declined. When a branch track was presently reached, the Maoris, with many manifest tations of goodwill, left him, and Peter ■with a sigh of relief removed his hand from his revolver. Shortly afterwards, he reached the edge ,of the bush, and met two shepherds, who conducted him to an adjacent homestead. They could not believe that he had come through the bush without mishap. The shepherds were by themselves, in charge of the station, 'and: expected an attack at any time. The squatter and 'his family had fled long since. The shepherds said the two Maoris were really "friendlies," and had frequently the white people against Te Kooti. "Then," said I, with slight disappointment, "you never came into contact with the Hauhaus?" "Didn't I?" said Peter. "When out with that survey party we spent nearly half our time fighting and dodging Hauhaus. Tell you about that again."-' Otago Daily Times.