A DASTARDLY MURDER.

Observer, Volume 2, Issue 52, 10 September 1881, Page 614

A DASTARDLY MURDER.

An East Coast Episode

The following episode of two decades ago is now published for the first time. It throws a lurid light on some of the Pakeha-Maori transactions of earlier times, and for cold-blooded, devilish villainy could hardly be surpassed. At the period referred to there resided in a certain settlement on the East Coast a hulking ruffian •vrho combined the business of a bush grogshanty witli that of a dealer in produce and live stock (the latter generally consisting of pigs) which he forwarded to Auckland by the small trading vessels. The means by which he and other traders on that coast got possession of Maori produce and stock may possibly be dealt with at a future time. For the present it will be sufficient for the purposes of this article to show how the rascal now referred to lined his pockets with sovereigns on one particular occasion. It so happened that a native chief of rank, whose kainga Avas a few miles inland from the coast, bred pigs in considerable numbers, but he was not satisfied with the prices offered by traders. The rum-seller became aware of this fact, and persuaded the chief to entrust to. him the next lot of pigs for shipment to Auckland on commission. This was agreed to, and in course of time the proceeds for the sale of the pigs were remitted to the grog-shanty man, the net amount being about £70. Very soon the chief sent one of his taurekarekas (serving-man or slaves) to receive the money on his behalf. The rum-seller recognised in the messenger one whom he knew from experience to be a victim to " the bottle." He laid his villainous plans without delay, and proceeded to put them into execution. By dint of plying the unfortunate fellow with the bush compound known as "Maori rum" he soon had him in a state of semi-intoxication. lie then counted the sovereigns into a canvas bag, handed it to the man, and urged him to start for home. With a stupefied brain and a staggering gait the native took the bag in his hand and moved towards the door, not, however, before the landlord had pressed on his acceptance a bottle of rum. It was well on to nightfall (here, you know, as in Coleridge's " Ancient Mariner," "at one stride comes the dark " — no twilight) when the unfortunate wretch started for his kainga witli the bag of sovereigns, tied at the mouth and closed witli sealing-wax, in his hand. The landlord fixed his bleared eyes on the man's movements until he was clear of the premises, and then stealthily followed him. As lie calculated, his victim had not gone far when he broached the rum-bottle, the result being that he could go no further. Overcome by the stupefying fumes the ''slave" (in more senses than one) lay down in the fern, and soon became unconscious in his drunken slumber. The rum-seller crept towards the man, and, after carefully scrutinizing around to see that no one was about, removed the bag of coin from the sleeper's side, where it had fallen from his nerveless grasp. Hastily returning to the hotel, he cut a small hole in the bag and emptied out the sovereigns. Then lie filled it with bits of lead and pebbles, and returned to the Maori, taking a few sovereigns in his pocket. He suddenly aroused the sleeping man, who, in a dazed kind of a way. realized that lie was belated, and had acted foolishly. Staggering to his feet, he clutched the " dummy " bag which was thrust into his hand, and made the best of his way homeward through the bush. The poison-vendor then placed a few sovereigns at intervals along the fern-track. The diabolical motives Avhich prompted these acts will presently appear. The unfortunate victim in due course managed to stumble into the kaingi, and, in a half-stupefied state, handed to the chief the bag supposed to contain the proceeds of sale. The chief opened it, and looking at his messenger, said sternly, " Heialia tenei mahi ?" (What means this work ?) . The man himself simply stood gazing in speechless terror and astonishment, being utterly unable to account for the strange occurence Well, the chief soon started to see the rum-seller, taking with him the culprit and several other members of the ti'ibe. On reaching the hotel the inevitable colloquy took place : " Kiwliea taka utu mo te poaka r 1 " (Where is my payment for the pigs?). With a well-assumed air of surprise and innocence the scoundrel confronted the indignant chief, and said, " I x^aid this man here, your taurekareka, for the pigs. Ask him if I did not count out 70 sovereigns and give them to him in a bag sealed up." The poor wretch, overwhelmed with fear and shame, and utterly at a loss for an explanation, admitted that he had received the money. " Then where is it ? You have stolen and hid it," said the chief. The European ruillan then proposed that they slumld traverse the track taken by the man, and look carefully for any traces of the coin. They did so, and very soon he called the chief's attention to a sovereign on the ground — then another — and another, until about half-a-dozen or so were picked up. " Now, what do you think ?" said the rum-seller ; " don't you see ho must have cut the bag and taken them out, dropping some and losing them as he did so." " Ivaio he korero tika, tou. He tangata tahai tenei." (Yes, your words are true. This fellow is a thief) . Then bidding the unfortunate victim to stand up before him, he, then and there in the sight of all, brained him with his niere pounaniu, and the fiend in human form who wrought the man's destruction stood by and witnessed, unmoved, the dreadful deed. He lives still, and is sometimes, but very rarely, to be seen in Auckland. How a man can live with the ghastly memory of a horrid act like that clinging ever to him, like some monster from a charnel-house, is a matter of wonder. But so it is. The days of vengeful thunderbolts have died out, apparently, with heathen mythology. But if any argument were wanting in 'support of the theory of future punishment, such a case as this should supply it.

— Ambbioak Waltham Watcher -were Awarded the Only Two First Prizes at the Melbourne International Exhibition, 1880-81, being Higher Awards than any other Exhibitor received for watches.