The Rebel Chief. A romance of New Zealand ... With illustrations by the author

Front matter

THE REBEL CHIEF A Melancholy Idyll. page 44. THE REBEL CHIEF A ROMANCE OF NEW ZEALAND BY HUME NISBET, AUTHOK OF BAIL UP!" "THB DIVERS," "THE BUSHRANGER' S SWEETHEART, "THE QUEEN'S DESIRE," "THE SAVAGE QUEF.N," &C, &C. Mill} Illustrations bg ifct THE WATERWAY. LONDON: F. V. WHITE & CO., 14, BEDFORD STREET, STRAND, W.C. 1 Dedication TO Sir GEORGE GREY, K.C.B., M.H.R., D.C.L., LL.D. Explorer, Historian, Soldier and Pioneer Colonist THE MAORIES' FRIEND I BEG TO DEDICATE THIS ROMANCE OF NEW ZEALAND NATIVE LIFE a

Preface

When I lately re-visited Australia, in search of fresh facts for my work, a book seller there said that my books were much too realistic already for the fancy of some Colonials. He said, ' We like truth best out here when it is in praise of our manifold virtues, noble institutions and generosity.' Another sage observed, ' The whole duty of a novelist is to amuse, not to instruct, or criticise.' In the following pages I have done my best to follow the hints of these wise advisers. While trying to be true and faith ful in my delineation of the Maori in his original state, I have purposely avoided giving any record of actual facts and kept away from real localities, therefore my readers must not regard this as either a realistic or a historical romance. The township of Teikapuka will not be

PREFACE.

found on the New Zealand map ; it is, as my characters are, what the Maori orators call myths, only meant to entertain. Therefore I humbly beg that no Colonial reader may say, ' That is such a one,' which the Author means, or ' such a place,' for I mean neither of the kind. I am only making use of my prerogative as a story-teller and fixing my own creations in New Zealand as I might fix them anywhere else. They are human types and not individuals. For my native customs I am indebted to the works of Sir George Grey and John White, also to my own experience amongst the Maories some twenty-three years ago. With these explanations, I beg to leave my Romance, ' The Rebel Chief,' to the kindly consideration of the reader, and trusting that it may be interesting enough to keep him up an hour or so longer than he usually sits, I beg to remain THE AUTHOR.

Yorick Club, Savoy, W.C, 1896. CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE I. AFTER THE WRECK, I II. THE PA OF KAWITE, 10 III. THE MAORI AT HOME, 19 IV. WUNG TI AND DAN WAKE UP, . . . 29 V. A MELANCHOLY IDYLL, 39 VI. KAWITE RETURNS, 49 VII. TAFFY GETS HIS ORDERS, 60 VIII. THE MIDNIGHT JOURNEY OF RATA, . . 70 IX. THE BODE OF KOHENGIHE, .... 82 X. PREPARING FOR WAR, 9 1 XI. AT THE SETTLEMENT OF TORUNGA, . 101 XII. RATA MAKES A GOOD BARGAIN, . . . Ill XIII. THE MAORI PA BY NIGHT, .... 122 XIV. A MESMERIC SEANCE, 131 XV. THE SURPRISE, 140 XVI. THE DEATHS OF MAROHE AND PAHI, . . 150 XVII. THE DEMOLISHED PA, 1 59 XVIII. THE SWAMP OF THE DEAD, . . . . 168 XIX. THE FEAST OF SLAUGHTER, . . . 1 78 XX. THE MORNING COUNCIL, . . . . 187 X CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE XXI. THE PARTING, 19$ XXII. WUNG TI IS RECOGNISED BY AN OLD CUSTOMER, 205 XXIII.

THE MIDNIGHT BARGAIN, .... 214 XXIV. THE MARCH OF THE BRITISH FORCES, . 224 XXV. RATA GETS A LONG REST, .... 234 XXVI. A NIGHT WITH TORUNGA, .... 244 XXVII. THE REVENGE OF KAWITE, . . . 253 XXVIII. THE BRITISH SQUARE, .... 262 XXIX. THE DEFEAT OF KAWITE, . . . .271 XXX. A WEIRD JOURNEY, 280 XXXI. THE LAST OF KAWITE, .... GLOSSARY OF NATIVE WORDS Atna. — The gods. Ariki. — Highest caste of chief; lord. Amoco. — Face design or crest of tattooing of warrior or gentleman. A chief drew his amoco on a deed instead of signing it. Ariki. — Fern-root. Amure. — Hereafter. Ao— Light. Amo. — Bier for the dead. Aue. — Lament for the dead. Eko.— Sweetheart ; a term of endearment. Ehine. — Woman ; a term of friendship. Hapu. — Tribe. Hi. — Psah ! exclamation. Hanga. — Property. Hahunga. — Funeral gathering.

Haere Mae. — Call of welcome. Kawakawa. — A creeper. Kotiro. — Girl. Katekate. — Upper mat for shoulders. Konene. — A stranger. Kurupatu. — The skirt or lower garment. Kainga. — Native town. Kauri. — Gum tree. Kumara. — Potato. Meri. — Green-stone club. Mana. — Fame. GLOSSARY OF NATIVE WORDS Mafia. — Spear. Na I — Behold ! exclamation. Putere. — A stranger. Pakeha. — White man. Poaka. — Pig. Papa. — The earth. Po. — The night. Puhi— Betrothed. Patu. — A larger club than the meri. Pa, or Pah. — a Maori castle or fort Peri. — A spear. Rangatara. — A knight warrior, third caste. Reinga. — The spirit land. Rangi.—Tht. heavens. Tamaitu. — A boy. Taurekareka. — A slave. Taurarua. — Witchcraft. Te Kenga. — The night. Tangi. — A gathering and lament of tribes. Tapu. — To make sacred ; to infect ; to reserve.

Tawha. — Chaos. Te Kara. — The fire. Tahae. — A robber. Tawhaki. — A god — Adonis. He looks after departed spirits and is always beautiful, young and brave. Tumatauenga. — God of war. Tawhiri-mae-tea. — God of storms. Tane Mahuta. — God of the wood. Tafia. — Duke, Toa or warrior, second caste. Toa. — Warrior. Tatua. — Middle order or fourth caste. Tehinga. — Prophet or priest. Whare. — Hut or house. Ware. — Lower or fifth caste. Wahena. — A wife. CHARACTERS REPRESENTED (As native names are somewhat confusing, I beg to give here the dramatis persona of my story.) Males. Kawite, . . . The rebel chief. Torunga, ... An English friendly chief. Rata, ... A native critic. Potukika, . . A native poet. Taware, . . . Native orator and warrior. Hiki, ... A young warrior in love with Runa. Taporepore, . .

A young warrior. Pahi . . . The husband of Runa, a chief. Wung Ti, . . A mystery man. fonah Davieson, . A Welsh nondescript. Dan Graves, . . A Queensland half-caste. General Renton, British Commander. Colonel Baildon, . British Commander. Rev. Henry Holmes, A Missionary. Females. Alarohe, . . Wife of Kawite. Runa, . . . Wife of Pahi, in love with Hiki Maikuku, . . Sweetheart to Wung Ti. Puhi-huia, . . Sweetheart to Dan Graves. Tararu, . . . Wife of Rata. Kokoreki, . . Wife of Taporepore. Te-we, . . ■ Attached to Jonah. b

Chapter I After The Wreck

At length the grey dawn had come and put an end to that terrible night of tempest, blackness and desolation. It came up slowly from the nether world, and cast a faint and livid pallor upon the ragged edges of the heavy clouds — those clouds which were leaving the sky-plain, where throughout the darkness they had hung broodirigly, while the fierce struggle waged between the savage waves and their angry riders, the winds. Now, however, the angry riders, satisfied with their victory over those curbed chargers, had re turned to their own headquarters — the clouds — where tired with the mighty strain and wild fury of the fight, they were carried on the masses, slowly and sullenly. How like to an army leaving the beaten field the ghostly cloud-shadows appeared as they shrank away from that joyless light, now loom ing up from the east.

An army, with banners rent and fluttering, waggons showing up the A wreckage of coverings, tent-poles and spoilage, horses deadly tired, drooping horsemen, limp ing infantry, with the camp followers all huddled together, their backs turned upon the destruction they were leaving, all monotonous and colour less in their shadows, and with the pallor of dead clay upon them where that faint, ashy dawning fell. Stronger grew the light from beneath the ocean line, while the sky became clearer overhead ; and as the wind-carrying clouds grew smaller and more distant, the radiance broke through their shadows and travelled along the turbulent crests of the writhing waves to the rocks, against which they had beat themselves so frantically all through the night ; against which they were still beating and breaking themselves in impotent fury, for there was nothing more left for them to break.

The thing that had been a gallant ship last night had long since become matchwood ; the splinters broken too minutely to be any further damaged as they floated aimlessly upon the yeasty wash. As the light grew and spread, details began to be revealed ; curling sides of waves glittering like polished steel against inky furrows, bits of planks and yards with cordage twisted about like tresses or seaweed, jetsam and flotsam which wreckers would not have looked at twice ; that awful grinding wash, which weltered at the foot of the cliffs, with the crevices, caves and out-jutting points of those deadly walls that held in check the angry ocean, and above that again the foliage, which promised rest to whoever could reach them. That the tempest was over, the sea-birds proved by their presence ; for now, as the night departed, they were returning in vast clusters from the shelter of the woods above to their old roosting-places on the ledges ; hungry cormorants and shrieking sea gulls, eager to go a-fishing as soon as the waves had settled down somewhat.

They were almost starving with their long fasting, for they had fled from the storm before supper-time yesterday, and left that fated vessel struggling with her doom while the sun went down scarlet and purple. They had echoed, as they fearfully sought the bosky shelters, the despairing shrieks which burst from throats now brine-choked and silent. Sixty-five bodies were dashed against those cruel cliffs last night in the dark, along with the severed planks of the Southern Cross, and after wards borne out to sea by the voracious sharks, who have now, like the cormorants and sea-gulls, come back, unsatisfied, to look for more. As the sun peers up from the distant ocean line, it gilds the tops of the tumbling waves, now bottle-green in the furrows. It also gleams over the shining tips of jet-black fins which appear at times even amongst the snowy surf; ominous fins which appear and disappear at unexpected places, as the monsters dart about, lured close to the shore by the smell of the blood which has splashed above high-water mark, when the hapless victims were washed forward for the first time.

Sixty-five souls, perhaps, flew from the darkness and the hurricane after that departing sun for a last look at the homes and friends they had left in England, which it was then waking up to another day, before they sought their new homes in the sphere of eternal day or everlasting night. There had been sixty-seven despairing souls on the doomed deck when the sun went down behind that ocean line last, and sixty-five had solved the grand problem, leaving two only to be accounted for. Was it the blood stains still upon the rocks above high-water mark, or those two still un liberated souls which had drawn the keen-scented, unsatisfied sharks back again so near to the shore ? The cormorants and sea-mews know where they are, for they keep circling and screaming round one occupied ledge not far from the snow-white spume.

The watchful surf-hunting monsters also have scented them out, for the black, sun-gilt fins are never far from the vicinity of that shelving ledge, and as the now half-revealed sun pours its golden rays over the stretch of waters, the sea birds know that the objects which have startled them are not dead, and therefore they fly back satisfied, and leave the occupants of the ledge fully revealed to the warm rays of the sun and the watchful eyes of the hungry sharks in the waves. They are both men who lie side by side, bruised and senseless, their stiffened hands still clutching at the cliff face. They have dragged themselves up in the darkness instinctively, and hung on all through the night with that tenacity of grasp which half-drowned men take at objects before the last sinking, and which can hardly be un clasped ; almost naked both of them are, for what clothes they may have had when tossed from the deck have been torn from them by the clutchings of the waves and the raspings of the rocks, or in their frantic and blind efforts to get out of peril.

As the waves lave over their nude skins, they show all the cruel marks and wounds of the struggle for life. It is the smell of their blood which has dripped over the ledge that is the attraction for those ugly black fins below. Almost in the same condition as they were born into the world, so have they come ashore — naked and with great travail. On the upper portions of their bodies, which are not stained with the blue marks of bruises or bleeding wounds, also on such places as the rents in their tattered trousers leave bare, the original flesh-tints show a slight difference of nationality, although both are dark-skinned. One is young, apparently about nineteen, and greyish white, or whitey-brown, with the colour faded somewhat ; the prevailing tones of the other are ochry, while his age cannot easily be guessed.

They are both well proportioned and in good condition ; the young man wears his jet-black hair long, and he has a thick and curly mass, although the crimpness is considerably taken out of it by the briny wash; a soft, dark down shades his cheeks and chin, as yet untouched by the razor; he has the straight nose and comely features of an Englishman, yet his colour, pallid although it is, betokens him un mistakably to be a half-caste. The other exhibits a tremendous muscular development about his arms and chest ; indeed, he looks all muscle and has not an ounce of superfluous fat about him. His face is hairless and broad-cheeked, and his head is shaven, all except the top tuft, from which hangs the long and carefully-plaited pig-tail that the waves have not been able to untwist, although they have loosened it from its coil.

It lies now trailing over his wounded breast and arm like a broken-backed snake, and denotes him to be a son of the Celestial land. He has evidently taken a tender care of his young com panion before his senses left him, for while one hand clutches at the roots growing from the cliff, the other holds on firmly to the waist-belt that keeps the remnant of trousers still decently in their place. Thus they lie side by side, blending their rags, their colours and their blood together, while the yeasty wash leaps hungrily upwards, drenching them with the spent spray, although it cannot dislodge them from the perch. These two shipwrecked and unconscious waifs are not, however, left for long to the bufferings of the spray, and the hungry regards of the sharks, for as the sun rises above the horizon, several dark heads appear over the upper edge of the cliff and watch them for a few moments.

Then three or four figures make their appearance, cautiously climbing down the rugged surface, with flax-woven ropes coiled round them. Three youths and a girl, dark-skinned, ruddy and very scantily clad, carry the ropes, so that their inten tions are evidently friendly towards the helpless strangers. The girl, a buxom Maori maiden of about sixteen, drops down from rock to rock with singular boldness and rapidity, for these cliffs are the rock-bound coast of New Zealand. She reaches the ledge before her companions are two-thirds down, and kneeling beside the un covered bodies she places her brown hand over their hearts, and after holding it for a brief space, she shouts out, in her own language, to those above, that life still remains. Nothing can be done on that ledge to restore animation ; therefore, with the aid of her com panions, who have now joined her, she fastens the ropes round the prostrate bodies in such a way that they are enclosed in rude hammocks, which are in turn attached to other ropes that have been flung over to them from the top.

Then, giving the signal, the hoisting begins, while the girl and the three boys, climbing beside the burdens, ease them as they are hauled up, as best they can. It is a rough journey in spite of all their efforts to avoid the sharp edges, and the unconscious men get a few more bruises added to those which they have already received. It is as well, therefore, that they are still oblivious to all pain on that laborious passage, for by the time they have reached the top, those who are helping them up are exhausted, and sink panting on the green sward, while the Maories who have had the strain of pulling are in a similar condition. Twenty altogether have been at the task, and they have all worked with a will. As they recover their wind they examine, one after the other, the two men they have saved, and then with expres sions of sympathy they prepare to carry the pakehas to their camp.

Most of these twenty natives are in the first flush of youth, while the sexes are pretty fairly divided amongst them. The young men are as yet untattooed, for they have not distinguished themselves. Tall, stern-faced, Roman-like boys they all are, who leave most of the talking to the comely and stout girls. They know what to do, however, under the circumstances, and do not waste too much time about it. Cutting down some branches from the forest, which stands a little distance away, they twist these into two litters, and placing the strangers gently upon these, they shoulder them with a hearty good will, and proceed on their way silently and rapidly. It is a wild and, after some distance, a densely wooded forest they penetrate, although there are paths cut through it in a rough fashion. The land is hilly, and as they go down one steep decline the wood becomes thicker and the ground more covered with undergrowth and tangle of creepers — a forest something after the kind that covered Great Britain in the Druidical days.

They brush aside this tangle carelessly, and crush over the grasses, ferns and wild peppermint, keeping as much to the open as they can. After a time theybegin to ascend another hill, then, as they rise, the wood becomes thinner and clearer. Finally they come to a torrent, over which a tree has been laid as a bridge. In front of them towers a lofty and rocky hill, with a native-made pathway winding up between the boulders and the palisades of a Pa, or fort, crowning the crest. It was a strongly-chosen position, as most of the Maori Pas were, for where they at present rested, the defile was so deep and the torrent so turbulent that, by pushing this tree-bridge over the precipice, it could be rendered impregnable to this approach, at anyrate. With a short rest the boys once more took up their burdens, toiling bravely up the rugged path way, while some of the girls ran nimbly in front to announce their coming, and the patients they were bringing, to the medicine man.

Chapter II The Pa Of Kawite

The Pa which the youths and girls were approaching with their loaded litters, by this steep and circuitous path, was an extensive one, and strongly built upon the most lofty emin ence round about, according to Maori custom. As they neared the encircling barricade, a some what extensive view could be seen of the sur rounding country, so that even leaving out the advantage which that split between the larger and lesser hills gave to the inhabitants, it would have been impossible for any enemy to have approached unperceived, unless the whole tribe were sleeping. It was a savage, yet particularly characteristic, as well as picturesque landscape which stretched round the base of this mountain-top, on which this important native tribe had fixed their head quarters. The mountain itself was a barren wilderness, or rather a wild assemblage and piling up of rocks, from which all natural growth, that might conceal an enemy, had been rigidly cut and burnt down.

The Maori in his native condition is a Toa or warrior, and not a practiser of the peaceful occupations of husbandry, and all his surroundings betoken the arts of warfare. He likes to keep the forest in its primeval state as his hunting-ground, where he can go after the wild boar and dig for the fern-root, the staple articles of his daily food. Since the pakeha, or white man, introduced the kumara or potato, he leaves his women folk to cultivate a few fields of these edible tubers, outside or within the en closure of the camping-ground. This is their duty, with the weaving and spinning of the flax into togas, robes and mats ; but gardens and flowers are not cultivated by this stern and Spartan race of warriors. They do not tattoo themselves according to the fashion of the milder Polynesians, but carve the designs boldly out of the skin, as they do on their war-clubs, spears and pillars of their temples.

The tree which bridged that awful split or gorge was one of the tallest Kauris, and it spanned fully forty feet from edge to edge. On both sides, the rocks reached sheer down for a hundred and fifty feet, to where the angry torrent boiled amongst the boulders and cascades. The tree-bridge also was lightly and ingeniously placed, so that it could be raised like a drawbridge by the flaxen ropes, which acted as handrails to those crossing, in times of hostility. But as there was, for the present, peace in the land, or, at least, a truce going on between the discontented tribes and the white invaders, this bridge had not been lifted for some weeks. Kawite was the chief over this settlement. He was likewise regarded as lord paramount by many of the other lesser tribes, so that he had a large following of renowned Toas or warriors, with their own chiefs acting as captains under his generalship.

He shall, however, be introduced and described in good time. The youths had now reached the outer platform which was a few feet in width, on the flattened top of the hill between the steep sloping sides and the first barricade, that ran right round the wide circumference, within which the inner walls and whares or houses were sheltered. This Pa was an ancient one, the date of its first erection being lost in mythic legend, for the family of Kawite, like some of the Greek heroes, claimed heavenly ancestors. The outer barricade was fully twelve feet in height, and massive enough to stand a siege, being built with heavy trunks of trees laced together with supple jacks and filled in solidly with compact earth and clay. The watchman on the top of this wall com manded a view of the country round for miles — the forest that stretched far beneath, with the peaks of many other hills on which smaller forts were built.

They could not see the ocean, of course, for a lofty hill lay between them and it, but they could hear the roaring of the surf against the beetling cliffs on stormy nights, and this gorge protected them from that side when their drawbridge was raised. To the north the hill lay bare and steep right down to the forest, resembling some of the bleak hillsides of Scotland ; before an enemy could climb that mountain-side, he would be spent with his efforts, even if he managed to escape the aim of the marksmen above. To the east and south it was un scalable, except by the aid of ropes or ladders, as the cliffs on these two sides were most precipitous. The outer gateway, however, stood open for the approach of the boys, and after they had crossed the space and passed through the entrances of the two inner barricades, they were met by a crowd of men and women who came from the houses to see what they were bringing.

Foremost amongst the crowd waited a tall and handsome woman of about twenty-two ; a young woman carried a baby boy in her arms and stood close by. This was Marohe, the wife of Kawite, with his son and heir held by the nurse. The chief was absent for the present, therefore she acted as her husband's representative. The boys carried their burdens up to where the chieftainess stood, and setting the litters down at her feet, they explained where they had come from, and then waited on her orders. Meantime the powerful Chinaman showed some signs of recovering from his prolonged swoon. He loosened his grasp, which he had retained all the way, from the waist belt of his companion, and made a movement as if he would rise, then with returning consciousness the pain of his many bruises came upon him, and with a heavy groan he sank back helplessly.

A moment he lay supinely, while the female leader looked at him calmly, then he opened his heavy lids and fixing upon her his filmy, dark eyes, he smiled gently. The peculiar blandness of that smile, with the effort which it cost him to give it under the painful circumstances, went straight to the susceptible heart of this dignified chieftainess. Possibly, also, his muscular development contributed not a little to the fascinating and pathetic effect of the forced smile in waking her womanly sympathy ; for she bent upon him a kindly glance, and an answering smile of assurance of good will, then looking to the doctor of the tribe, she gave him some directions in the Maori patois. Meantime, as she was speaking, the Chinaman again made an effort to raise himself, and turning his head in the direction of the other litter, he saw his companion ; then, stretching out his arm, he touched the hand next to him softly.

Instantly his fingers were clutched by the hand he had touched and held firmly, while the bloodless lips moved as the young half-caste muttered faintly, — ' Good old Wung ! ' ' Allee lighty, Dan Glaves ! ' he answered, as he sank back with a groan of contentment. The medicine man now advanced, and pointing to a whare of larger dimensions than the others that were round them, the young men again took up the litters and carried them over the intervening space of street under the carved lintels. Once within the cool shadows of the house, they lifted the sufferers from the litters and laid them side by side on a stretch of matting and dried bracken, which served as the native bed. Here the medicine man, aided by several women, old and young, set to work, stripping the helpless patients of their few rags and rubbing them over with ointments and lotions.

These operations over, they enveloped them in cool and freshly-cut leaves. ' Lie still, and go to sleep, and you will be better when you wake,' said Marohe, who had followed them inside, and who politely spoke the English language, in the soft and liquid, broken accents of an Italian. The Maori language is as liquid and melodious as the Italian, and Marohe had that best charm of womanhood — a soft and musical voice. The two castaways hardly needed this advice, for the soothing and soporific effect of the unguents and leaves had already lulled the pains of their long night's battle with the waves and rocks, so that their present desires centred in sleep. Before she had finished speaking, they were both locked in slumber. It was to the whare of the chief which they had been taken, for the Maori has a keen sense of the obligations of hospitality, and even although any stranger speaking English was regarded at this time as an enemy by this tribe and their allies, there was only one of two things to be done — either to kill them straight away, or to treat them like honoured guests.

Marohe knew well what her noble and chivalrous husband would expect from her. These strangers had been brought into the camp without their own option, and the first rites of hospitality had been extended to them — admission ; therefore their lives were sacred. They might be lords amongst their own people ; the bland Chinaman had certainly showed the behaviour of a nobleman when he first regained his scattered senses, and was both tall and strong enough to be a great Toa, although he bore none of the outward insignia on his yellow-tinted skin of an acknowledged Toa. He appeared likewise particularly anxious and careful about his young companion, therefore he also must be a person of consideration, and this Marohe had decided promptly that only the whare of the chief was suitable for their accommodation, until the chief came home.

While they slept off their fatigue, she busied herself preparing a substantial meal against their waking, for she had been trained to know exactly what men require after a battle, either with the forces of Nature or with their human adversaries. The pit outside was laid with heated stones, into which the kumaras and pork were placed, the whole being covered up as carefully as an oven. In other pits throughout the Pa similar preparations were being made for the daily feast. Meantime there was a considerable division amongst the members of the clan as to the pro priety of all this kindness being wasted over a pair of pakehas, i.e., white fellows. Old Pahi, who was the veteran warrior of the tribe and the prime minister of Kawite, besides being the owner of a young bride of whom he was inordinately jealous, shook his whitened head over the matter ominously, and predicted that evil must come of this admission.