SWORDSMAN IN THE SWAMP.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LV, Issue 210, 24 January 1913, Page 6

SWORDSMAN IN THE SWAMP.

A TALK OF TARANAK!. (I'" "flaer«rc" in the Lyttelton Times).) i ' the thousand places in the North I [-1-.id sanctified by the memories of v n i.ita 1 combat between brave men of ! i.l.e white race and the brown, there is oite ipiaint spot which holds a story that has never yet been truly told—a story I of a chivalrous duel which is as \vorth>' of imperishable record as any knightly battle of the Old World's romantic, mediaeval days. The place where it vas fought, a raupo swamp ill the days ' o!' which 1 write, has been totally chang- 1 cd by the settler's hand, and dairy cattle graze over the old battlefield, and even the grave-mounds of the dead have been razed long ago. Few of the people who win a generous living from this good soil can tell the tale of how it was won for them by the blood of the Queen's soldiers and Tarnmiki's pioneers half a century ago. History quickly becomes vague tradition, and the oft-repeated gossip of camp fictionists is remembered longer than plain fact.

THE RAUPO SWAMP. The raupo swamp of which I speak v.as failed in the old days Wai-kotero, which signifies a place where the natives were accustomed to soften potatoes by steeping them in water. It is a short distance south of the township of Waitara. and the black ironsarnl beach of the North Taranaki Bight is but a little way off. It forms part of the old battlefield of Puketakauere, where the Imperial forces got such a cutting-lip at the hands of the Taranaki Maoris on June "27. 1800. Two miles away is Matarikoriko, where there was a strongly fortified pa, whose garrison, armed only with muzzle-loading single and double-barrelled guns, laid many a British soldier low that day. Puketakauere—or Wai-kotero. as the Maoris always call the engagement—was a woeful day for the 40th Regiment, and its Grenadier and Light Companies met the heaviest storm of bullets of the day. Thirty white officers and men were killed and thirty-three were wounded; and of the manner in which one of the Fighting Fortieth's officers met his death, this brief chronicle from Maori sources will tell. THE MILITARY VERSION.

After I heard from a certain venerable pakeha-Maori acquaintance of mine, who has lived with the Maoris for well nigh fifty years, the narrative of the death of Lieutenant Brooke, 1 looked up the printed records of the Taranaki war to ascertain tiie military version of the affair. The histories, after giving the details of that disastrous day for the British arms, and telling how the dead and some of the wounded soldiers had to be left on the field of battle while the blundering red-eoat tacticians effected a retreat to New Plymouth, make brief reference to Lieutenant Brooke's death thui:—< - • Wells' "History of Taranaki," page 208 (extract from the report of Major Nelson to the officer commanding): "Lieutenant Brooke, of the 40th Regiment, was barbarously killed in a swamp, after surrendering his sword to the enemy."

DR. GRACE'S ACCOUNT. Dr. Grace, M.L.C., in his "Story of the Maori War":—"Lieutenant Brooks (that is how lie spells it), up to his waist in water, defended himself like a Paladin with his sword, disabling many an adversary, until at length he was 'tomahawked from behind." Neither of these versions of the plucky voung officer's death is correct. THE CORRECT VERSION. Here is the story, as narrated to my old pakelui-Maori by the famous Ilapurona, fighting chief of Te Atiawa, who led the Taranaki warriors in the campaign of 1860-01, the war brought about by the foolish Waitara land purchase of unhappy memory. Hapurona, whose former name was Te Ao-tarangi, was not only a brainy war general, but he was personally a most active warrior and a master of fence. His favorite weapon was the taialia, the long doubleended weapon of hradwood, flat, blunt blade one end, and sharp tongue at the 'sticking-point." He was not tall, not more, perhaps, than sft Bin, but he was lithe and sinewy, and quick on his feet. He had a rather full face, a short grey beard, and no tattoo marks. He was, besides being a warrior of renown, a great orator in the councils of his people. Such was Hapurona, as my bush friend knew him a few years after the Waikotero fight. It was he who slew Lieutenant; Brooke, the Queen's swordsman, in the swamp that day of 1860, and with no other weapon but his wooden taiaha. TOLD BY HIS SLAYER.

"Ac, friend," said Hapurona, "as you ask me, I shall . tell you exactly how that Queen's officer met his death at niv hands. I have heard that some of the pakehas say the white officer was treacherously slain. Not so; my sou! I killed liiin in fair and open fight, as you shall see. "It was towards the end of the Waikotero fight,. The soldiers fought us bravely, but they were foolishly, ignorantlv led. We laughed at the silly way their officers led them into positions where we could easily shoot them down T/ith but small danger to ourselves. It was different when the white settlers of Taranaki took the war-path against us; wc. could not fool them so easily. But VYai-kotero!— it was like shooting pigeons in the bush. Sow, as the soldiers drew off, beaten, leaving their dead lying on the field —there are bones of dead men lying in that marshy place to this day—T saw a fine-looking young soldier —I knew he was an officer by hi? uniform and his sword—making his way through the wet swamp. I charged into the swamp to meet him, armed with my laiaha—this same taiaha which I hold in my hand now—a weapon of the akcake wood. I faced the officer and looked straight into his.eyes, and said to hint: •Come out. come out!' I pointed to his sword and asked him for it. Xow, had he reversed it and handed it to me hilt-first", holding it by the point, f should have taken it as a token of surrender, and I should not have killed the pakeha but have permitted him to make his escape. But he held it out towards me point first, and that, as you know, means death. So, seeing in that the officer did not mean to submit, 1 attacked him. and the light began. " WE FOl'ftllT A ftRHAT FIGHT."

''Tin; Queen's officer—it was many days after that I was told it was Lieutenant Brooke—was a good swordsman and a brave man. But good.as he was and brave as be was my taialia conquered him! We fought a great fight there in the; swamp, with many of mv people looking on. flow long We fought I do not know, but it was a long time. Again and iigain he made a great blow at me, but, I parried every cut and every thrust, and his .-'eel rattled harmlessly on my hardwood weapon. I struck him a blow on the cheek, and nearly felled him, and I cried to him, in Maori: 'Go down on -Voiir knees and bid farewell to your t>od! 1 his was to give him a chance to 'poroporonki,' to speak a. last dying word. ) Slit, no! he fought on, with great determination. As before, I par-j ried every blow of his sword with ease. A swonl is no match, anyway, for a taialia in the hands of a man wlio has been properly trained to use it. "At last the white officer, raising hi*

sword above his head, made a vigorous blow at me. I took it on the shaft of my taiaha, and next instant, before he could recover, I struck him with all ray force oil the temple and killed him.. It was with the broad blade of my weapon that I slew him, not the tongued point. I struck him —he fell —lie died — in the swamp he died! All, he was a biave man; he fought like a toa, a hero! And when I stood there, after the combat, looking at my fallen iight-ing-friend. my boa-i'iri, I felt sorrow for him. Ye.s,'l wept tears for him; I tangi'd over the pakeha T had slain! Do not think it strange that I should ! tungi over my vanquished enemy; 'tis but the way warriors should honor each other! And T cried farewell to liim, as I he lay there in the swamp—'Haere kite Po, e lioa!' I said—'Depart, o friend, to the Night!' And I stooped and picked lip bis sword, a chief-like weapon, as my trophy of the combat, and I have it now! "That," cried the grey old fighting chief, after going through every thrust and parry of the duel, as ho told the story, "was the way I killed the white officer, Lieutenant Brooke, in the swamp at Wai-kotero. Now, my pakelia friend, tell me, was it not a fair > fight—tika tonu, absolutely fair and square and above-board? Was it not, now?"