Old New Zealand Part 2

He is at the front; he jumps into the air, shaking his stone weapon; the whites only of his eyes are visible, giving a most hideous appearance to his face; he shouts the first words of the war song, and instantly his tribe spring from the ground. It would be hard to describe the scene which followed. The roaring chorus of the war song; the horrid grimaces; the eyes all white; the tongues hanging out; the furious, yet measured, and uniform gesticulation, jumping, and stamping. I felt the ground plainly trembling.

At last the war dance ended; and then my tribe (I find I am already beginning to get Maorified), starting from the ground like a single man, endeavoured to out-do even their amiable friends' exhibition. They end; then the newcomers perform another demon dance; then my tribe give another. Silence again prevails, and all sit down. Immediately a man from the new-arrivals comes to the front of his own party; he runs to and fro; he speaks for his tribe; these are his words:--"Peace is made!

peace is made! peace is firm! peace is secure! peace! peace! peace!"

This man is not a person of any particular consequence in his tribe, but his brother was killed by our people in the battle I have mentioned, and this gives him the right to be the first to proclaim peace. His speech is ended and he "falls in." Some three or four others "follow on the same side." Their speeches are short also, and nearly verbatim what the first was.

Then who, of all the world, starts forth from "ours," to speak on the side of "law and order," but my diabolical old acquaintance the "Relation Eater." I had by this time picked up a little Maori, and could partly understand his speech. "Welcome! welcome! welcome! Peace is made! not till now has there been true peace! I have seen you, and peace is made!" Here he broke out into a song, the chorus of which was taken up by hundreds of voices, and when it ended he made a sudden and very expressive gesture of scattering something with his hands, which was a signal to all present that the ceremonial was at an end for the time.

Our tribe at once disappeared into the pa, and at the same instant the strangers broke into a scattered mob, and made for the long shed which had been prepared for their reception, which was quite large enough, and the floor covered thickly with clean rushes to sleep on. About fifty or sixty then started for the border of the forest to bring their clothes and baggage, which had been left there as inc.u.mbrances to the movements of the performers in the ceremonials I have described. Part, however, of the "_impedimenta_" had already arrived on the backs of about thirty boys, women, and old slaves; and I noticed amongst other things some casks of cartridges, which were, as I thought, rather ostentatiously exposed to view.

I soon found the reason my friend of saturnine propensities had closed proceedings so abruptly was, that the tribe had many pressing duties of hospitality to fulfil, and that the heavy talking was to commence next day. I noticed also that to this time there had been no meeting of the chiefs, and, moreover, that the two parties had kept strictly separate: the nearest they had been to each other was thirty yards when the war dancing was going on, and they seemed quite glad, when the short speeches were over, to move off to a greater distance from each other.

Soon after the dispersion of the two parties, a firing of muskets was heard in and at the rear of the fort, accompanied by the squeaking, squealing, and dying groans of a whole herd of pigs. Directly afterwards a mob of fellows were seen staggering under the weight of the dead pigs, and proceeding to the long shed already mentioned, in front of which they were flung down, _sans ceremonie_, and without a word spoken. I counted sixty-nine large fat pigs flung in one heap, one on the top of the other, before that part of the shed where the princ.i.p.al chief was sitting; twelve, were thrown before the interesting savage who had "started" the war dance; and several single porkers were thrown without any remark before certain others of the guests. The parties, however, to whom this compliment was paid, sat quietly saying nothing, and hardly appearing to see what was done. Behind the pigs was placed, by the active exertion of two or three hundred people, a heap of potatoes and _k.u.mera_, in quant.i.ty about ten tons, so there was no want of the raw material for a feast.

The pigs and potatoes having been deposited, a train of women appeared--the whole, indeed, of the young and middle-aged women of the tribe. They advanced with a half-dancing, half-hopping sort of step, to the time of a wild but not unmusical chant, each woman holding high in both hands a smoking dish of some kind or other of Maori delicacy, hot from the oven. The groundwork of this feast appeared to be sweet potatoes and _taro_, but on the top of each smoking mess was placed either dried shark, eels, mullet, or pork, all "piping hot." This treat was intended to stay our guests' stomachs till they could find time to cook for themselves. The women having placed the dishes, or, to speak more correctly, baskets, on the ground before the shed, disappeared; and in a miraculously short time the feast disappeared also, as was proved by seeing the baskets flung in twos, threes, and tens, empty out of the shed.

Next day, pretty early in the morning, I saw our chief (as I must call him for distinction) with a few of the princ.i.p.al men of the tribe, dressed in their best Maori costume, taking their way towards the shed of the visitors. When they got pretty near, a cry of _haere mai!_ hailed them. They went on gravely, and observing where the princ.i.p.al chief was seated, our chief advanced towards him, fell upon his neck, embracing him in the most affectionate manner, and commenced a _tangi_, or melancholy sort of ditty, which lasted a full half-hour; during which, both parties, as in duty bound and in compliance with custom, shed floods of tears. How they managed to do it is more than I can tell to this day; except that I suppose you may train a man to do anything.

Right well do I know that either party would have almost given his life for a chance to exterminate the other with all his tribe; and twenty-seven years afterwards I saw the two tribes fighting in the very quarrel which was pretended to have been made up that day. Before this, however, both these chiefs were dead, and others reigned in their stead.

While the _tangi_ was going on between the two princ.i.p.als, the companions of our chief each selected one of the visitors, and, rus.h.i.+ng into his arms, went through a similar scene. Old "Relation Eater"

singled out the horrific savage who had begun the war dance, and these two tenderhearted individuals, for a full half-hour, seated on the ground, hanging on each other's necks, gave vent to such a chorus of skilfully modulated howling as would have given Momus the blue devils to listen to.

After the _tangi_ was ended, the two tribes seated themselves in a large irregular circle on the plain; into this circle strode an orator, who, having said his say, was followed by another, and so the greater part of the day was consumed. No arms were to be seen in the hands of either party, except the greenstone _mere_ of the princ.i.p.al chiefs; but I took notice that about thirty of our people never left the nearest gate of the pa, and that their loaded muskets, although out of sight, were close at hand, standing against the fence inside the gate: I also perceived that under their cloaks or mats they wore their cartridge boxes and tomahawks. This caused me to observe the other party more closely. They also, I perceived, had some forty men sleeping in the shed; these fellows had not removed their cartridge boxes either, and all their companions' arms were carefully ranged behind them in a row, six or seven deep, against the back wall of the shed.

The speeches of the orators were not very interesting, so I took a stroll to a 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 ornamented cloaks, and wore in their heads, feathers, which I already knew "commoners" could not afford to wear, as they were only to be procured some hundreds of miles to the south. I therefore concluded these were magnates or "personages" of some kind or other, and determined to introduce myself. As I approached, one of these splendid individuals nodded to me in a very familiar sort of manner, and I, not to appear rude, returned the salute. I stepped into the circle formed by my new friends, and had just commenced a _tena koutou_, when a breeze of wind came sighing along the hill-top; my friend nodded again, and his cloak blew to one side. What do I see?--or rather what do I not see? _The head has n.o.body under it!_ A number of heads had been stuck on slender rods, a cross stick being tied on to represent the shoulders, and the cloaks thrown over all in such a natural manner as to deceive any one at a short distance; but a green _pakeha_, who 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, and felt that at last I had fallen into strange company. I began to look more closely at my companions, and to try to fancy what their characters in life had been. One had undoubtedly been a warrior; there was something bold and defiant about the look of the head.

Another was the head of a very old man, grey, shrivelled, and wrinkled.

I was going on with my observations when I was saluted by a voice from behind with, "Looking at the eds, sir?" It was one of the pakehas formerly mentioned. "Yes," said I, turning round just the least possible thing quicker than ordinary. "Eds has been a getting scarce,"

says he. "I should think so," says I. "We an't ad a ed this long time,"

says he. "The devil!" says I. "One o' them eds has been 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'," says he. "Oh, murder! I see, now," says 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, "and the villain ran away, tattooin' and all!" says he. "What?" said I. "Bolted afore he was fit to kill," says he. "Stole off with his own head?" says I. "That's just it," says he. "_Capital_ felony!" says I. "You may say that, sir," says he. "Good morning," said I, and walked away pretty smartly. "Loose notions about heads in this country," said I to myself; and involuntarily putting up my hand to my own, I thought somehow the b.u.mp of combativeness felt smaller, or indeed had vanished altogether. "It's all very funny," said I.

I walked down into the plain, and 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. A number of women were standing in a row before it, screaming, wailing and quivering their hands about in a most extraordinary manner, and cutting themselves dreadfully with sharp flints and sh.e.l.ls. One old woman, in the centre of the group, was one clot of blood from head to feet, and large clots of coagulated blood lay on the ground where she stood. The sight was absolutely horrible, I thought at the time. She was singing or howling a dirge-like wail. In her right hand she held a piece of _tuhua_, or volcanic gla.s.s, as sharp as a razor: this she placed deliberately to her left wrist, drawing it slowly upwards to her left shoulder, the spouting blood following as it went, and from the left shoulder downwards, across the breast to the short ribs on the right side; she then s.h.i.+fted the rude but keen knife from the right hand to the left, placed it to the right wrist, drawing it upwards to the right shoulder, and so down across the breast to the left side, thus making a b.l.o.o.d.y cross on the breast. And so the operation went on all the time I was there; the old creature all the time howling in time and measure, and keeping time, also with the knife, which at every cut was s.h.i.+fted from one hand to the other, as I have described. She had scored her forehead and cheeks before I came; her face and body were one ma.s.s of blood, and a little stream was dropping from every finger: a more hideous object could scarcely be conceived. I took notice that the younger women, though they screamed as loud, did not cut near so deep as the old woman; especially about the face.

This custom has been falling gradually out of use; and when practised now, in these degenerate times, the cutting and maiming is a mere form: slight scratching to draw enough blood to swear by; but, in "the good old times," the thing used to be done properly. I often, of late years, have felt quite indignant to see some degenerate hussy making believe with a piece of flint in her hand, but who had no notion of cutting herself up properly as she ought to do. It shows a want of natural affection in the present generation, I think; they refuse to shed tears of blood for their friends as their mothers used to do.

This head, I found on inquiry, was not the head of an enemy. A small party of our friends had been surprised, and two brothers were flying for their lives down a hill-side; a shot broke the leg of one of them and he fell. The enemy were close at hand; already the exulting cry "_Na! na! mate rawa!_" was heard; and the wounded man cried to his brother, "Do not leave my head a plaything for the foe." There was no time for deliberation. The brother _did not_ deliberate; a few slashes with the tomahawk saved his brother's head, and he escaped with it in his hand, dried it, and brought it home. The old woman was the mother, the young ones were cousins: there was no sister, as I heard, when I inquired. 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 pakeha who accosted me on the hill on the state of the head market, I am bound to remark that my friend Mr. ---- never speculated in this "article;" but the skippers of many of the colonial trading schooners were 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 his own head after the trouble and expense had been gone to to tattoo it to make it more valuable, is no fiction either. Even in "the good old times" people would sometimes be found to behave in the most dishonest manner. But there are good and bad to be found in all times and places.

Now if there is one thing I hate more than another it is the raw-head-and-b.l.o.o.d.y-bones style of writing, and in these random reminiscences I shall avoid all particular mention of battles, ma.s.sacres, and onslaughts; except there be something particularly characteristic of my friend the Maori in them. As for mere hacking and hewing, there has been enough of that to be had in Europe, Asia, and America of late; and very well described too, by numerous "our correspondents." If I should have to fight a single combat or two, just to please the ladies, I shall do my best not to get killed; and I hereby promise not to kill any one myself, if I possibly can help it.

I, however, hope to be excused for the last two or three pages, as it was necessary to point out that in the good old times, if one's own head was not sufficient, it was quite practicable to get another.

I must, however, get rid of our visitors. Next day, at daylight, they disappeared: canoes from their own tribe had come to meet them (the old woman with the flint had arrived in these canoes), and they departed _sans ceremonie_, taking with them all that was left of the pigs and potatoes which had been given them, and also the "fine lot of eds."

Their departure was felt as a great relief; and though it was satisfactory to know peace was made, it was even more so to be well rid of the peacemakers.

Hail, lovely peace, daughter of heaven! meek-eyed inventor of Armstrong guns and Enfield rifles; you of the liquid-fire-sh.e.l.l, hail! Shooter at "bulls'-eyes," trainer of battalions, killer of wooden Frenchmen, hail!

(A bit of fine writing does one good.) Nestling under thy wing, I will sc.r.a.pe sharp the point of my spear with a _pipi_ sh.e.l.l; I will carry fern-root into my pa; I will _cure_ those heads which I have killed in war, or they will spoil and "won't fetch nothin'": for these are thy arts, O peace!

CHAPTER IV.

A little Affair of "Flotsam and Jetsam."--Rebellion crushed in the Bud.--A Pakeha's House sacked.--Maori Law.--A Maori Lawsuit.

--Affair thrown into Chancery.

Pakehas, though precious in the good old times, would sometimes get into awkward sc.r.a.pes. Accidents, I have observed, will happen at the best of times. Some time after the matters I have been recounting happened, two of the pakehas, who were "knocking about" Mr. ----'s premises, went fis.h.i.+ng. One of them was a very respectable old man-of-war's man, the other was the connoisseur of heads; who, I may as well mention, was thought to be one of that cla.s.s who never could remember to a nicety how they had come into the country, or where they came from.

It so happened that on their return, the little boat, not being well fastened, went adrift in the night, and was cast on sh.o.r.e at about four miles distance, in the dominions of a petty chief who was a sort of va.s.sal or retainer of ours. He did not belong to the tribe, and lived on the land by the permission of our chief as a sort of tenant at will.

Of late an ill-feeling had grown up between him and the princ.i.p.al chief. The va.s.sal had in fact begun to show some airs of independence, and had collected more men about him than our chief cared to see; but up to this time there had been no regular outbreak between them: possibly because the va.s.sal had not yet sufficient force to declare independence formally. Our chief was, however, watching for an excuse to fall out with him before he should grow too strong. As soon as it was heard where the boat was, the two men went for it as a matter of course; little thinking that this encroaching va.s.sal would have the insolence to claim the right of "flotsam and jetsam," which belonged to the princ.i.p.al chief, and which was always waived in favour of his pakehas. On arrival, however, at this rebellious chief's dominions, they were informed that it was his intention to stick to the boat until he was paid a "stocking of gunpowder"--meaning a quant.i.ty as much as a stocking would hold, which was the regular standard measure in those days in that locality. A stocking of gunpowder! who ever heard of such an awful imposition? The demand was enormous in value and rebellious in principle. The thing must be put an end to at once. The princ.i.p.al chief did not hesitate: rebellion must be crushed in the bud. He at once mustered his whole force (he did not approve of "little wars"), and sent them off under the command of the Relation Eater, who served an ejectment in regular Maori form, by first plundering the village and then burning it to ashes; also destroying the cultivation and provisions, and forcing the va.s.sal to decamp with all his people on pain of instant ma.s.sacre--a thing they did not lose a moment in doing; and I don't think they either ate or slept till they had got fifty miles off, where a tribe related to them received them and gave them a welcome.

Well, about three months after this, about day-light in the morning, I was aroused by a great uproar of men shouting, doors smas.h.i.+ng, and women screaming. Up I jumped, and pulling on a few clothes in less time, I am sure, than ever I had done before my in life, out I ran, and at once perceived that Mr. ----'s premises were being sacked by the rebellious va.s.sal, who had returned with about fifty men, and was taking this means of revenging himself for the rough handling he had received from our chief. Men were rus.h.i.+ng in mad haste through the smashed windows and doors, loaded with anything and everything they could lay hands on. The chief was stamping against the door of a room in which he was aware the most valuable goods were kept, and shouting for help to break it open. A large canoe was floating close to the house, and was being rapidly filled with plunder. I saw a fat old Maori woman, who was washerwoman to the establishment, being dragged along the ground by a huge fellow who was trying to tear from her grasp one of my s.h.i.+rts, to which she clung with perfect desperation. I perceived at a glance that the faithful old creature would probably save a sleeve. A long line of similar articles, my property, which had graced the _taiepa_ fence the night before, had disappeared.

The old man-of-war's man had placed his back exactly opposite to that part of the fence where hung a certain striped cotton s.h.i.+rt and well-scrubbed canvas trowsers, which _could_ belong to no one but himself. He was "hitting out" l.u.s.tily right and left. Mr. ---- had been absent some days on a journey, and the head merchant, as we found after all was over, was hiding under a bed. When the old sailor saw me, he "sang out," in a voice clear as a bell, and calculated to be distinctly heard above the din:--"Hit out, sir, if you please; let's make a fight of it the best we can; our mob will be here in five minutes; Tahuna has run to fetch them." While he thus gave both advice and information, he also set a good example, having delivered just one thump per word, or thereabouts. The odds were terrible, but the time was short that I was required to fight; so I at once floored a native who was rus.h.i.+ng by me.

He fell like a man shot, and I then perceived he was one of our own people who had been employed about the place; so, to balance things, I knocked down another, and then felt myself seized round the waist from behind, by a fellow who seemed to be about as strong as a horse.

At this moment I cast an anxious glance around the field of battle. The old Maori woman had, as I expected, saved a good half of my s.h.i.+rt; she had got on the top of an outhouse, and was waving it in a "Sister Anne"

sort of manner, and calling to an imaginary friendly host which she pretended to see advancing to the rescue. The old sailor had fallen under, but not surrendered to, superior force. Three natives had got him down; but it took all they could do to _keep_ him down: he was evidently carrying out his original idea of making a fight of it, and gaining time. The striped s.h.i.+rt and canvas trowsers still hung proudly on the fence; none of his a.s.sailants could spare a second to pull them down. I was kicking and flinging in the endeavour to extricate myself; or, at least, to turn round, so as to carry out a "face to face"

policy: which it would be a grand mistake to suppose was not understood long ago in the good old times.

I had nearly succeeded, and was thinking what particular form of destruction I should shower on the foe, when a tremendous shout was heard. It was "our mob" coming to the rescue; and, like heroes of old, "sending their voice before them." In an instant both myself and the gallant old tar were released; the enemy dashed on board their canoe, and in another moment were off, darting away before a gale of wind and a fair tide at a rate that put half a mile at least between them and us before our protectors came up. "Load the gun!" cried the sailor--(there was a nine-pound carronade on the cliff before the house, overlooking the river). A cartridge was soon found, and a shot, and the gun loaded.

"Slew her a little," cried my now commander; "fetch a fire stick."

"Aye, aye, sir" (from self). "Wait a little; that will do--Fire!"--(in a voice as if ordering the discharge of the whole broadside of a three-decker). Bang! The elevation was perfectly correct. The shot struck the water at exactly the right distance, and only a few feet to one side. A very few feet more to the right and the shot would have entered the stern of the canoe, and, as she was end on to us, would have killed half the people in her. A miss, however, is as good as a mile off. The canoe disappeared behind a point, and there we were with an army of armed friends around us, who, by making great expedition, had managed to come exactly in time to be too late.

This was a _taua muru_ (a robbing expedition) in revenge for the leader having been cleaned out by our chief, which gave them the right to rob any one connected with, related to, or under the protection of, our chief aforesaid, provided always that they were able. We, on the other hand, had the clear right to kill any of the robbers, which would then have given them the right to kill us; but until we killed some of them, it would not have been "correct" for them to have taken life, so they managed the thing neatly, in order that they should have no occasion to do so. The whole proceeding was un.o.bjectionable in every respect, and _tika_ (correct). Had we put in our nine-pound shot at the stern of their canoe, it would have been correct also; but as we were not able, we had no right whatever to complain.

The above is good law: and here I may as well inform the New Zealand public that I am going to write the whole law of this land in a book, which I shall call "_Ko nga ture_;" and as I intend it for the good of both races, I shall mix the two languages up in such a way that neither can understand; but this does not matter, as I shall add a "glossary,"

in Coptic, to make things clear.

Some time after this, a little incident worth noting happened at my friend Mr. ----'s place. Our chief had, for some time back, a sort of dispute with another magnate, who lived about ten miles off. I really cannot say who was in the right: the arguments on both sides were so nearly balanced, that I should not like to commit myself to a judgment in the case. The question was at last brought to a fair hearing at my friend's house. The arguments on both sides were very forcible; so much so that in the course of the arbitration our chief and thirty of his princ.i.p.al witnesses were shot dead in a heap before my friend's door, and sixty others badly wounded, and my friend's house and store blown up and burnt to ashes.

My friend was all but, or, indeed, quite ruined; but it would not have been "correct" for him to complain--_his_ loss in goods being far overbalanced by the loss of the tribe in men. He was, however, consoled by hundreds of friends who came in large parties to condole and _tangi_ with him, and who, as was quite correct in such cases, shot and ate all his stock, sheep, pigs, goats, ducks, geese, fowls, &c., all in high compliment to himself: at which he felt proud, as a well conducted and conditioned pakeha Maori (as he was) should do. He did not, however, survive these honours long, poor fellow. He died; and, strange to say, no one knew exactly what was the matter with him: some said it was the climate, they thought.

After this, the land about which this little misunderstanding had arisen, was, so to speak, "thrown into chancery," where it has now remained about forty years. But I hear that proceedings are to commence _de novo_ (no allusion to the "new system") next summer, or at farthest the summer after; and as I witnessed the first proceedings, when the case comes on again "may I be there to see."

CHAPTER V.

Every Englishman's House is his Castle.--My Estate and Castle.-- How I purchased my Estate.--Native t.i.tles to Land, of what Nature.

--Value of Land in New Zealand.--Land Commissioners.--The Triumphs of Eloquence.--Magna Charta.

"Every Englishman's house is his castle," "I scorn the foreign yoke,"