Page 1 Advertisements Column 6

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 7, Issue 345, 28 May 1863, Page 1

EBS. [From Old New by a Pakeha-Maori. J; ’ The speeches of the orators were not ' ' very interesting, so I took a stroll to a r little rising ground at about a hundred yards distance, where a company of natives, better dressed than common, were seated. They had the best sort of oma- * mented cloaks, and had feathers in their heads, which I already knew “ commoners” could not afford to wear, as they were only to be procured some hun- ’ dreds of miles to the south. I therefore condiud’ed these were magnates, or “ personages” of some kind or other, and determined to introduce myself. As I approached, one of these sp&ndid indivi--1 duals nodded to me in a very familiar sort of manner, and I, not to appeal* rude, returned the salute. I stepped into the •• circle formed by my new friends, and had just commenced tena Jcoutou , when .a breeze of wind came sighing along the hill-top ; my friend nodded again,—his cloak blew to one side. What do I see ; — l or rather what do I not see 1 The head ' has no body under it ! The heads had all 3 been stuck on slender rods, a cross stick ' tied on to represent the shoulders, and the cloaks thrown over all in siich a natural manner as to deceive any one at a short distance ; but a green pakeha,-\\\\o was not expecting any such"’ matter, to a . certainty. I fell back a yard or two, so ■ as to take a full view of this silent circle. I began to feel as if at last I liad fallen into strange company. I began to look more closely at my companions, and to t try to fancy what their characters in life > had been. One undoubtly had been a warrior ; there was something bold and ’ defiant about the whole air of the head. Another was the head of a very old man, grey, shrivelled, and wrinkled. I was going on with my observation when ,1 .was saluted by a voice behind with, “Looking at the eds, sir?” It was one of the pakehas form erly men tioned. ‘ c Yes, ” I said I, turning round just the least , possible thing quicker than ordinary. 1 “Eds has been a getting scarce,” says he. 1 “ I should think so,” says I. “We an’t i had aed this long time,” says he. “ The devil !” says I. “ One o’ them heads was hurt bad,” says he. “ I should think all were rather so,” says I. “Oh no, only one on ’em,” says he, “ the skull is split, and it won’t fetch nothin,” sayy Ire. •“ Oh murder ! I see, now,” says I. i “ Eds was werry scarce,” says he, shaking his own “ ed.” “Ah !” said I. “ They .had to tattoo a slave a bit ago,” says he, !i“ and the villain ran away, tattooin’ and jail !” says he. “ What ?” said I. “ Boli ted afore he was fit to kill,” says he. “ Stole off with liis own head 1” says I. “That’s just it” says he “ Capital lelony !” says I. “ You may say that, sir” says he. “ Good morning,” said I. . I walked away pretty smartly. “Loose j notions about heads in this country,” said I to myself; and involuntarily putting up my hand to my own, I thought somehow the bump of combativeness felt smaller, or indeed had vanished altogether. “ It’s all very funny,” said I. I walked down into the plain. I saw in one place a crowd of women, boys, and others. There was a great noise of lamentation going on. I went up to the crowd, and there beheld, lying on a clean mat, which was spread on the ground, another head. This head, I found on enqohy, was not the head of an enemy. A small party of our friends had been surprised ; two brothers were flying for their lives down a bill-side ; a shot broke the leg of one of them and he fell; the enemy were close, at hand ; already the exulting cry “ Na J na! mate rmva /” was heard ; the wounded man cried to the brother “Do not leave my head a pla\ oiling for the foe.” There was no time for deliberation. The brother did not .deliberate ; a few slashes with the tomahawk saved liis brother’s head, and he escaped with it in liis hand, dried it, and brought it home; and the old woman was the mother, the yotmg ones were cousins. There was no sister, as I heard, when I enquired. All the heads on the hill were heads of enemies, and several of them are now in museums in Europe. With reference to the knowing remarks of the pakcha who accosted me on the hill on the state of the head market, I am to bound to remark that my friend Mr.——never speculated iu this “article,” but the skippers of many of the colonial trading schooners ivere always ready to deal with a man who had '“ a real good head,” and used to commission such men as my companion of the morning to “ pick up heads ” for them. It is a positive fact that some time after this the head of a live man was sold and paid for beforehand, and afterwards honestly delivered “ as per agreement.” The scoundrel slave who had the conscience to run away with own head after Itlie trouble and expense liad been gone to j tattoo it to make it more valuable, is no fiction either. Even in “the good old ■times” people would sometimes be found to behavo in the most dishonest manner. But there are good and bad to be found in all times and places.