PAGES FROM THE PAST.

Taranaki Daily News, 1 October 1921, Page 9

PAGES FROM THE PAST.

MAORI CHIVALRY. “AN’ INCIDENT AT THE WAITARA. (By “Juvenia.”) In the early part of the sixties there might have been seen on the south bank of the picturesque river Waitara tbe white tents of English soldiers, who were encamped there for the purpose of supporting the claim of the native chief, Teira, to his right to sell a block of land in the district to the pakeha (white man). Just where the camp was pitched the river is broad and rapid, and in those long ago days the south bank was cloth- ! ed with a broad belt of wild peach and karaka groves. (The kfiraka is a handsome native tree with rich dark green foliage; its fruit, a large yellow berry, was an important item of food in the old happy Maori days, before the introduction of pork, potatoes, and —consumption.)

The opposite bank is a bold, high bluff, then covered from top to bottom with beautiful ferns and many New Zealand shrubs, growing among them being the wharangi—a shrub with leaves white on the under side, and shiny green on the top, and upon which the Maoris used formerly to inscribe certain characters which Served them instead of writing, and which were carried by swift messengers from tribe to tribe in times of a common danger.

On the top of this bluff was the pah of the chief, Wiremu Kingi (William King), who, not liking the encroturhments of the whites, opposed Teira’s right to sell his own land, and so was the cause of the outbreak of a war which was to test to the utmost the ability of Governors, statesmen and soldiers of every degree. Bold, cunning, determined, with a natural genius for mili-

tary engineering, shown in earthworks their war pahs which excited tfs; admiration and astonishment of toe ' Lest army engineers, the Maori proved i himself in the long struggle between the i races an enemy by no means to be ■ despised. But Wiremu Kingi had retired iirom this pah, splendid as its position I was for strategical purposes; having no ! cannon with which to oppose the cannon I of the enemy he dared not risk an at- ! tack. One dark, misty night a friendly native came late to the ■ camp, having ! travelled a long distance to bring news I of the approach of a war-party of Wai- | katos; a brave, fierce, northern people, i the traditional enemy of the Taranaki ! tribes. The messenger could not tell < how near the much-dreaded foe might [ be, for the news had been passed on , from one tribe to another on the road i as the movements of the war party bcr came known. None would care to opj pose unless compelled. It was understood the Waikatos sympathised with Wiremu Kingi in his opposition to the ‘pakeha, and so must be on - their way to the Waitara encampment. All that ‘ could be done hy friemUies was to give i warning. But for this warning who

knows what might have been the fate of’ the English camp. Helped by the thick c.arkness, and taking shelter behind the trees which had not yet been cut down, the enemy could easily, with their swift, silent movements, have surprised and overwhelmed men jnst aroused from sleep, and totally unused to uncivilised warfare. From this fate the timely warning eaved them.

Immediately on receiving the news the commander called a council of officers. There was the colonel in command—fair and stout, kindly, fatherly, quite unused to warfare of any kind, though a soldier for many years, for he belonged to the long period of peace—finding himself now, through the etiquette cf the service, compelled to snoulder a responsibility heavy enough to crush a stronger than he: well may he look anxiously for help to the brave men about him; but they, though willing, were painfully conscious of their ignorance of Maori tactics, and how to meet them. But there is one in this council who, though not in the army, has never been allowed to stray far from the commander’s elbow since war was proclaimed. On this man all eyes are turned, though he his taken little or no part in the discussion. About fifty years of age, of average height, well formed and muscular, of dark complexion, with abundant soft black hair and large brown eyes—this was the outside of the man towards whom all eyes turned in evident expectation of good advice, for it was known that no man in New Zealand knew more o-f Maori customs and habits, both in peace and war. A master of the Maori language, lie could converse as freely with the Maoris as with the English. But more than this, there was something in this man that could be relied upon in time of need. Character was telling here as always. Long, laborious years of faithful, honorable service to both races, in a position of great responsibility, have proved the confidence of the officers assembled in that council tent was not misplaced.

Finding that he was expected to give an opinion he suggested that some one should go out on the track, by which the Waikatos were said to be coming, and under cover of the darkness try to discover their he himself volunteering to be the one who should do it. Others immediately volunteered to go with him, but he preferred going alone; and after some discussion this was agreed to. Mounting his horse he started alone on his perilous journey, the night being so dark he could not see his horse’s bead. The track he had to follow was narrow and rough, with dense high fern on either side. To-day, instead of this narrow track, there is a splendid metalled road, and rich grass in place of the brown fern. Trusting to the horse’s instinct to guide him aright he went cautiously along, merging every other sense into the one sense of hearing, in the hope of getting some clue to the position of the enemy. On and on he went, hearing not a sound in the still, heavy air, till at last the intense stillness became almost to oppressive to be borne, especially with the consciousness of an enemy not very far off; it was certainly enough to make the bravest man a little uncomfortable; but this one knew no giving in. He knew the Maori custom was to attack an hour or so before dawn, when, as they.•said, men sleep heaviest; and if their object was to attack the camp they could not be far off.

Thinking such thoughts till the whole body was in the state of high-wrought tension that comes from the concentration of every power on one object — suddenly he sau; himself, as if by magic, surrounded by \lark figures like phantoms in the mist. Xo oppressive silence now, but instead wild shouts, fierce demands for the instant death of the prisoner, flourishing of tomahawks and guns, with extempore war dancing. And what of the prisoner? “I am a dead man.” he said to himself, as he saw no possibility of escape from death, probably a cruel death by torture. He saw that, well as he understood Maori ways, they had been too clever for him. EitherX their keen eyes had seen him in the near distance, or they too had listened and heard his horse’s steps on the soft earth, and had concealed themselves in ambush until he was in ther midst. They soon discovered who I heir prisoner was, and though they knew him to be the steady true friend of the Maori, they knew also that he was loyal to his own people, and that his knowledge of Maori ways made him an enemy io be feared, however much respected.'

Now conies an incident that, would do honor to the highest, ’ civilisation of today. and shows those remarkable people in a light that makes one grieve at the inexorable race law that is doing its. grim work among them. The chief of the party—a true nobleman —stepped to the head of the prisoner’s horse, took the rein in his hand, and calling upon in whom he had perfect confidence to do the same on the other srde. he turned to bis followers and said in a voice of stern resolve which they well understood '•— “’Listen, warriors! This man is my prisoner—it is for me to say what shall he done to him. If 1 choose that his flesh shall be given as food to the birds oi the air. well! If I say he shall live, well! Listen, oh warriors!” and he raised high in th? air his right hand, in which he held a heavy tomahawk, fastened to his wrist with a leather thong, and his voice rang out in the stillness, steady and strong. “I say he shall not die at your hands; whoever wishes to kill him must kill me. first. It is my will that this man. who has fallen into our hands, shall be taken by us as near his own camp as our safety will allow, and there set free. Do not forget, the Waikatos have ever been brave warriors, not cowards who torture ami kill the helpless.” A deep silence fell upon the party, the disappointed nor daring to say a word of dissent, so great was their awe of their brave leader. The chief then called to his side a number of men of proved fidelity, and telling them to form a circle around himself and the prisoner, he gave the order to continue the journey.

A strange procession, truly! The central figure, srilent and helpless, with the strange sensation of having risen from the dead, so real had thought made death to him, and so unexpected had been, the reprieve; the leader, silent too, but strong, resolute, fearless, glorying in that sense of power and dominion so dear alike to savage and civilised; the trusted body-guard, alert, jealous for the life committed to their charge, and proud of the trust reposed in them, and last, the malcontents, longing—yet not daring—to rouse the anger of the lion chief.

But not yet could the prisoner feel quite safe. A party of savages risking their lives in order to ensure the safe return to his own people of a prisoner. one of a band of proud usurpers, the deadly enemies of their race. —as they were persuaded. It would be so easy for one, more hot-blooded than the rest, to put a bullet through his head in the darkness. |lut they had been too well disciplined, and the procession moved on in silence, and without mishap, as near to the English sentries as seemed prudent. f . Then the cL’.pf. calling a halt, said to

the prisoner: “I have not killed you because you were alone and unarmed (tor it was one of the peculiarities of this man never to carry arms). If ever I meet you in battle I shall do mv best to kill you. Now go With all spee'd, <nnd tell your General what a Maori can do.” rhen, silenily taking his place at the head of his men, he led them back on the path they had come. There was no attack that night.

'Ph? prisoner—a prisoner m> longerunderstanding well the significance of ihe words, “Go with all speed/’ set spurs to his: horse and did not draw rein till he reached the outposts. Great was the interest and excitement as he told his tale of a night’s adventure, revealing in an entirely new light the character of the enemy with whom they had to deal. After long months o f weary warfare, it fell to the lot of the man whose life had been saved by an eneiny to he in his turn the savior of that enemy—to say to an angry mob, ‘-Yon reach* that man only over my dead body,” quelling this mob. as the other had done, by mere strength of determination.