AS MAN-EATERS GO

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 58, Issue 282, 9 September 1938, Page 7

AS MAN-EATERS GO

By J. HALKET MILLAR, :

CHAPTER 6. With the hope that I might meet Ngaere and endeavour to explain my actions of the afternoon, for I had an idea that my attack on her hero had put me in disfavour with her, I repaired that night to one of the large meetinghouses where the Maoris assembled to talk over the events of the day in minutest detail 2 as was their custom. As usual, the only light in the place came from a fire in the centre of the floor, and there being no other vent than the door, the atmosphere was stifling with wood-smoke. It was some time before I could accustom my eyes to the gloom, but when I had wiped away the tears I could see into the farthermost recesses of the room. A quick glance assured me that Ngaere was not there, and I was about to leave when Tu stood up in the centre of the room.

By the time the last inhabitant had been informed of the episode, the story had included all tin 1 malevolent demons the hearers of the tidings could think of, hut the explanation was not forthcoming till perhaps two hours later, when a native staggered into the pa with a thrilling story of the murder of a young chieftain of our tribe. The new arrival bore on his body the wounds of several spear thrusts and lie was near to prostration. After food had been given him, ,and lie had composed himself somewhat, lie told his tale in the poetical style of the Maori, enlivening it with many gestures and grimaces, his voice rising and falling as his impassioned utterances proceeded. “Hear, oh people of Oromahoe! Onr house has been made desolate. The place of Eternal Night has claimed omson. His blood is as the dried-up spring : the blood of our son.” He paused, and the women wailed disconsolately.

With a haughty gesture he threw his cloak over his shoulder, signed to two of his men to follow, and left the place, throwing on me a glance of fury as he bent low to pass through the door. I decided that, rather than pick a quarrel with him just then, I would wait till ho had got clear of the meeting house. While thus I waited I had time to consider, and now regretted my rashness, knew, moreover, that I had acted foolishly. At last I rose to go, when my slave, who always followed ifte about the village, caught me by the arm, and, “Let the slave go first,” he said in a whisper. Seeing my surprise, he continued: “In the darkness the unseen arm may strike down the strongest.”

“Tone, the child of otir hapu, is dead,” continued the bearer of evil tidings. “Ho it was who gave his love to Mata-alio, daughter of the people of Oruru.”

Passing before- me, he looked out, satisfied hmself that Tu was not lying in wait, and signalled to me to follow. All this proved that my apprehensions were justified, and as I crossed the square my eyes were continually on the move. But the Fighter was nowhele to be seen. ,

He paused for breath, the people keening in subdued grief while waiting for his next words. “They met hut heeded not the hour, nor the falling darkness, for it was the time of their love, till there came the voices of the enemy to their ears, and bloso'upon them. Embracing his beloved, Tane fled, pursued by a band of men from the girl’s tribe. The men of Omni hurled hitter taunts at the maid, then turned in black wrath to overtake the fugitive. He had a good lead, but, turning at the challenge oi the foremost foe, Tane paused, clutched his mere, andl awaited the attack. That was his rival’s last fight, for he died amid the fern. Then rushed other warriors upon Tane, and he fell, sore wounded. Blow after blow rained upon him, and so lie died. And: they have taken his body to their pa, to do with it as they will.” As ho concluded, a great sigh of anguish went up from the assembled people, a sound terrible to hear. With a shout, the warriors of Oromahoe leapt to their feet and swung into the frenzied measure of the war-dance. The toa, the avengers, were sating their souls with the. lust for Wood, speedy, awful and merciless. Hiwa raised aloft his club of polished green-stone, his more, and silence fell upon his people. “To your whares, all of you. Bleep till the morning star,” he cried. “The tana, the war party,'must rest, for we go north at the dawn!” (To be Continued.!

Ilito my hut I went, where I sat musing on the trehd of events. That my case was bad, and that I had not bettered, it by attacking Tu, I felt sure. The slave must have read my thoughts, for at length he spoke, in a low voice. “My chief, we are not accustomed to laying hands on each other,' knowing that it means blood to do so. Tu is high in the councils of the liapu, the tribe, and he will avenge the affront if it takes many days. Beware how you go abroad. Keep me near you, for the ways of the Maori are as the untrod forests to the pakelia. My life is a small thing, and did not Hiwa say, when he gave me to you, ‘As you desire life, ho faithful’ ?” - As the slave, whoso name was Raumati, seemed to be in a communicative mood, I plied him with questions relating to the customs of his people. tJppermost in my mind was the reason for the fear of the natives when I attacked Hiwa in the glade on the first night of my sojourn in the fort. His feply was surprising:

“Hiwa was tapu,” ho said. “Tapu!” I exclaimed. “What is that?”

“When any person or object is tapu it is sacred, and may not bo touched under penalty of death or of becoming tapu, too. You became tapu from contact with. EtiwU, whose tapu was a most powerful one. Hence no one could touch you for fear of invoking the wrath of the gods, and of the law of tapu.” He launched out on an explanation of customs and usages of the Maori and it was that night I first heard, of the malevolent demon which was to play such an important part in my life at no great distance of time. This demon was a particularly sinister specimen who, hy all accounts, had set fire to a village on one occasion, sent pillars of fire careering over the hills, and had slain several warriors merely by looking at them. All this I took with a grain of salt, but I did not dare to make light of the slave’s superstitions, which were really the fundamentals of his religion. Dismissing Raumati to his own quarters, I threw myself down on the mats and, reflecting on the strangeness of my lot, I dropped off to sleep. My* excursions among the natives increased as the days passed. My clothes wore ever a source of wonder to them—they could not understand why I shed a number of skins before I went in to bathe. My speech, too, provided them with some enjoyment. They could get the words into their heads, they said, but they could not get them out again. They could not pronounce my name, no matter how they tried, and so to them I became the "White Heron, and White Heron it remains to this day. This name was bestowed because there is in this land a white heron whose visits to native settlements arc extremely rare.

During these days I saw little of Ngaere, and indeed I fancied she avoided me, though she greeted me pleasantly when we met. Her attitude puzzled me at the time, but not-till long after did I learn the wisdom she thus displayed. The Fighter showed me no discourtesy, nor did he betray a sign of resentment toward me, so that I began to think that my slave’s fears were exaggerated. When J. mentioned it to him. however,

‘<Think not so,” ho said. “Wait yet awhile.”

That was all, but it made mo alert. War being ,one of their leading pursuits, schools of arms flourished in all parts of the land, and as my stay amrthg these people seemed destined to be a long one, I joined one of the schools. There 1 acquired some skill in the use of native weapons and an insight into the intricacies of what could and what could not be done when a war party was on the trail.

One fine morning while T was near the cultivation areas, listening to the monotonous chant of the diggers as they drove their wooden digging poles into the earth in time to the chant, my attention was drawn to a flying female figure among the fern on a nearby ridge. Hither and thither she ran, zigzagging over the ridges. As yet the natives had not noticed: the girl, but as I wgtehed, a piercing shriek was wafted down to us. On the instant the chanting ceased and all eyes wore turned on the running woman. Again that shriek, and the diggers stepped hastily aside to take up their arms which, ever handy, were on the edge of the plots.

A Story of Adventure Among the Maoris.

All Rights Reserved.

Author of “The Bayly Murder Case." ~

Fas ciliated, we watched the strange creature as she fled, brushing aside the tangled fern and undergrowth, falling and rising, plunging on like one demented. Fainter and fainter grew the sound and at last the girl was lost to sight. Donning their cloaks, the Maoris proceeded to the village, work for the day being ended at that unnerving sight. And some there wore who hold their cloaks before their faces and murmured: “Mate! *Beath!”