SOUND THE ALARM.

Waikato Times, Volume 119, Issue 19887, 16 May 1936, Page 9

SOUND THE ALARM.

A BUGLER’S HEROIBM. FIGHT NEAR WELLINGTON. TO-DAY’S ANNIVERSARY. In the Hutt Valley there is a grave unguarded, save by sombre hills and stately forest. It is the grave of the youngest hero of the Maori wars, Bugler Allen. On May 16, 1846, fifty men of the 58th Regiment, under Lieutenant Page, held Boulcott’s Farm, an advanced post of Fort Richmond, against a party of 200 Maoris. The conflict resulted over the ownership of the Hutt Valley. Governor Fltzroy had bought this tract of country from Rangihaeata and Te Rauparaha, the money beihg paid to the latter. Whether tl\g proceeds were divided equally Is not known, but evidently Rangihaeata thought not and determined to have revenge for this unfair treatment. Not wishing to make himself overprominent, Rangihaeata obtained the services of Mamaku, a neighbouring chief, and allowed him to harass the settlers of the Hutt. Skirmishes were frequent, but there was no general attack until the engagement at Boulcott’s Farm. The outpost consisted of several huts, a wooden cottage, and a barn which had been rendered bulletproof. Surrounding the camp was the forest, whilo the Hutt River hard by rushed turbulently to the sea. On the far bank, unknown to the British soldiers, the woods concealed 200 Maori warriors. It was the night of May 15. The officer, lantern In hand, made a thorough survey of the barracks, little realising that the movements of his light were being watched by keen eyes across the river.

The Attack. Dawn disclosed an array of sleeping flgures, and a sentry who leaned wearily on his musket. The man grew restless, the stillness creating an uncanny atmosphere. Then his eye caught the glimpse of a flgure which gradually appeared more 'distinct in the growing light. He stifled a challenge when he recognised Allen, the bugler. Suddenly his attention was arrested by a rustle in the bushes; then a snap as if a twig had been broken by a heavy foot. “What was that?” He listened, anticipating something else, but silence reigned once more. Slowly morning broke, disclosing to the sentry a dark flgure which crept stealthily towards him. Levelling his musket, he tired, the shot failing to hit its mark, whilst the report was drowned by the yells ol' a mass of natives who appeared from the fern. “My God, they’re on us!” called tho sentry, and then lie went down with a bullet in his brain. The Timely Bugle Call, Then rang out young Allen’s warning bugle note, “Awake! awake!” As llio boy applied the mouthpiece to his lips a huge Maori made to snatch the bugle from his hands. Dodging the man, Allen once more blew the alarm. The native raised his tomahawk, and the bugler’s arm, the bugle falling from I lie senseless lingers. Before the bugle had touched the ground Allen caught it in liis loft hand and once more sounded his brave Reveille. Again the assailant smote. With his other arm hanging from his shoulder the bugler boy fell. Where he lay on the ground lie placed the bugle between his knees and blow his last warning note. With the dying away of the echo so died young Allen. The lieutenant, with a handful of men, defended the camp. Relief soon came and Mamaku and his men were put to flight. Lieutenant Page was promoted for his gallantry, while if ever a man deserved the hard-earned cross “For Valour” surely it was Busier Allen.