AS MAN-EATERS GO

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 58, Issue 300, 30 September 1938, Page 7

AS MAN-EATERS GO

CHAPTER 25. Ry the light of the thin crescent moon, I went that evening to every point of the defences, satisfying myself that all was secure and that the sentries were at their posts, though, truth to tell, there was not much need for this, every warrior in that menaced fort being fully alive to the danger that lurked out there in the darkness beyond the palisades. All being well within, I took a glance at the new stone wall at the head of the gorge, and, returning, gave instructions that at the first sign of the enemy I was to be called. With that i sent a slave with word to Raumati that I would see him in my whare. This seemed the opportunity for which I had been longing to ask him more about the Taipo in the hills.

If ever abject fear had sat upon a man’s face, it had been when Raumati heard the cry of the Taipo. Certainly he had briefly mentioned this demon to me when first I made his acquaintance, but it appeared we were now in its own domain, and as I had determined to learn more about it when the Men of Oromalioe returned south I wanted to hear the full story while the events of the day were fresh in my mind. By and by Raumati came to the whare and sat down on the mats on the other side of the fire which burned brightly in the centre of the floor. He gazed fixedly at the dancing flames, and once or twice glanced into the shadow-filled corners.

“Still thinking of the Taipo?” I asked presently. “'No other thought has been mine since we heard it,” he replied without lifting his eyes from the burning wood in which his fertile imagination could no doubt conjure up strange shapes. “I have asked you to come here that I might hear the tale of the Taipo,” I went on. He looked up for the first time and his eyes met mine across the smokefilled space. “I)o you believe in the Taipo?” “I tell yqu, Raumati, that till this day I did not believe in any of your demons, but now—well, I don’t know. I want to hear all about this one.” Again he gazed into the fire and fell silent, at length heaving a deep sigh as he commenced his narrative. “It is a great many moons since the Taipo first came among us—whence it*came we know not. It is like no other spirit, and our traditions, handed down from father to son through the ages, make no mention of it.” “Could it have come from any other part of the land?” I asked. “No, we have searched far but no one can explain it. Wo are at a. loss to know what gods we have offended that such a. thing should be sent to dwell among us.” (Raumati was again back among his old gods). “What is a Taipo?” I asked. “It is a Maori devil, sometimes diminutive, sometimes monstrous—always terrible. It has terrorised our tribe from the first day of its appearance, but it is not heard so frequently now. When first we heard it, we could count the days on one hand during which there was not some manifestation. It did not sleep. In the daytime it stalked on the hills; in the darkness it came close to the palisades; and always it cried as you heard it to-day.” “Has no one seen it?” I interrupted. “Some there were who saw it, but they did not live to tell of what they saw. They died in one—two —or perhaps a number of days. Only one man was able to tell something, and his tale was that the Taipo was white as ashes, and that his eyes flashed fire as ho walked.”

Knowing the Maori as I did by this time, I did not give much credence to the deaths of the men through the spells laid upon them by the Taipo, for, if a native thought he had been bewitched, lie went to his whare, gave himself up as lost, and died, though there was nothing -wrong with him. “Strange lights have flashed in the forests at night and pillars of smoke have stalked by day,” continued Raumati. “Men have been found dead without a mark on them. How else could they have died but at the hands of the Taipo? He paused as though expecting me to answer, hut I had nothing to say. “Then there were the cultivations that have been visited, the storehouses that have been broken open, and the food taken; and no one saw by whom these things were done. One night a whole village took fire for no reason we could place to it.” “And you blame the Taipo for all this?” “What else? Wliat of the kumara dug up, the food taken, the fire started? Could these things happen without. cause?”

Certainly they could not, hut what Raumati had said had started a train of thought that I wished to develop. He had no more to say on the subject and soon left me to my reflections. Long alter he had gone I sat and pondered. All the indications pointed to some human agency behind these manifestations, hut, what was the mystery of the Taipo? CHAPTER 26. It must have been the purpose of the attacking force to give the impression that they had abandoned the siege after the slaying of the slaves, for next day there was still no sign of them. The tension remained, however, and though a few left the fortress on one excuse and another for the most part we kept inside. I took turns with Raumati in keeping an eye on Kapu, hut he continued his duties with an unconcern that came near to disarming my suspicions. Indeed, had it not been for my companion, I would have tossed asido what I had set down as the tohunga’s treachery, and let him go his way, but Raumati counselled me to be on the alert,

A Story of Adventure Among the Maoris.

By J. HALKET MILLAR. :: Author of “The Bayly Murder Case.”

Ail Rights Reserved.

speaking so earnestly that my flagging interest in the fellow was renewed. Jt was during the earlier part of this day that a message was sent to me that I was wanted at the main gate, and greatly wondering I hurried from my whare where I had been polishing mv cutlass (the only effective weapon I had by me now). A small knot of warriors had gathered just outside the gate and as I came upon them I saw a native held fast by two of our men. In his hands he carried a small bundle done up in leaves, to which lie clung tenaciously. I did not recognise him, but as soon as he clapped eyes on me he shouted: “The White Heron ! Master, 1 have a word for you.” “Whence, came you?’’ I asked. “1 come from the south,” was his reply. “And who sent you?” “That is for your ear alone. Only to you will I speak the name.” This was a puzzling incident and I was at a loss to know how to deal with it. The fellow was a powerfully built man, and I was not inclined to trust myself alone with him. The appearance of Raumati on the scene, however, changed my attitude. “Release him,” said I to the men who clutched his arms. Then, turning to the messenger, I said, “Follow me,” while I requested Raumati to keep close behind the stranger. Thus we passed through the gate and came to the door of my whare. Here I deemed it private enough l for the delivery of the message. “Now, tell me your word,” I said curtly. But he spoke not, instead turning this way and that to where a few of the people stood at a distance to watch the new arrival. “Not here, there are too many eyes.” He pointed to the whare door, but I declined to take him inside. “If not here, then not at all,” I cried. He was adamant, and as it appeared he would not speak outside, I at last relented and led the way into the whare, when the man immediately unwrapped the bundle of leaves and revealed a length of the tough flax leaf, to which was tied a. small piece of wood and a tiny loop. This was the message and I now understood why ho had refused to display it to the view of the curious, who would have been able to read it almost at a glance. Messages in this way were often sent by the oldtime Maori. Having carefully stretched out the flax and held it up to view by a small loop at the top, he handed it to me without a word. Now this was another Maori expedient of which I. had slight knowledge, and seeing at a' glance that this message was beyond my comprehension, I requested the bearer to wait outside. As soon as he was on the other side of the door, I turned to Raumati and held up the token. “What do you make of this?” I asked. “It is a warning from a woman,” said he, sharply scrutinising the* strange thing. “Read it to me,” “The piece of wood is attached to the left side, which is the woman’s side, and it also shows who sent the message. The loop is on the man’s side, on the right, and means danger.” “There can be only one woman to send such a message to me,” cried I while my pulses raced at the thought, “but how are we to be sure?” “The wood is white, and denotes a kiritea. “Ngaere, and none other. I knew it,” I said smacking my thigh, for a kiritea is the name given by the natives to a fellow native whose skin is much lighter in colour than the general. Kiritea were seldom met with. So Ngaere had sent this token to warn me of danger that threatened from a man. I could easily guess whom. At that we went outside and found the messenger standing a little way apart. “When you return, say all is well,” I said to him, and received a nod in token that he understood. I then took him back to the gate, and saw him safely through the guards. As we watched him running toward the river, ICapu came out to us and stood for a moment, before commencing to find his way past the piled up stones. Here was amazing temerity. He was, as sure as I was standing there, actually setting off to keep a tryst with our foes. I shot a glance at Raumati, but he gave no sign that he had noticed. But, no sooner had the tohunga passed from view than he swung round to me, looked significantly down the declivity, and with apparent carelessness sauntered after the tohunga, myself at his heels.

Before we had gone far, he turned off at an angle and so we came out on a piece of land that overlooked the route taken by Kapu as he walked beside the river. Thus we watched him out of sight before we descended and followed in his steps, or nearly so, for we kept among the bracken and fern growing in profusion on our right hand. It also served as a screen between us and possible scouts on the other side. It was Raumali’s acute hearing which first picked up the sound of voices ahead.

Warily we picked our way so that not even a. twig snapped beneath our feet. After some wriggling we came in view of the plotters. And what a surprise awaited us! Engaged in an animated conversation were six men — Tu, Kapu, and four white men whom I instantly recognised as members of the whaling gang, obviously the ones who had escaped, when the whaler was burned. They had made good their escape and somehow Tu, or perhaps Mango, had got into touch with them, for here they were plotting with the tohunga of the Children of the Dawn, a parcel of as great villians as ever breathed.

So sure were they that their adversaries were securely penned in the fortress that they did not even seek to hide themselves, nor to modulate their tones, so that it was easy for us to hear what they said. Each of the sailors carried a musket and had it not been for these weapons, I would have there and then launched an attack upon the party. As things stood, they had the advantage, so wo contented ourselves by listening to the plans for the attack upon tho pa. So it came about that those who sought our destruction told us, though unwittingly, that they would that very night take up their positions ready for the attack on the day after the morrow. As they prepared to take leave of Kapu, Raumati fell on his stomach and commenced to slide, like a great lizard, through the fern, eventually rising and speeding away down the river hank. I followed the example he had set, nor did we ease our pace until we came in sight of the gateway, which casually we strolled through. Not knowing who might be in league with the tohunga, we kept silent on the matter we had discovered, seeking out Mot.ai to acquaint him of it. Ho wanted to kill the tolmnga as soon as ho returned to the fort, but Raumati quietened him with, a grimly uttered: “Leave the tohunga to me.”

It was not till some time later that I remembered the casks of powder we had buried in the ground after the attack on the ship, and on making an inquiry, learned that the inlet was only a few miles from where I stood. If the southern Maoris had not already told the whalers of the powder, it would be mine, for that very night I would send out a party to bring it in. Should the white men get it, they would he amply supplied with powder for their muskets, with which they could do untold damage against our men, who had nothing more effective than stone clubs and long spears. To Raumati I explained my thoughts regarding the powder and its recovery, and he volunteered to take a dozen men to the spot and bring hack the powder before dawn of the following day. With that he rushed off and when dusk fell an hour later he stood at my whare door at the head of a little hand of brave warriors, all over six feet, and naked, save for a light girdle round their waists in which to hold their meres. When all was ready, they broke up and scattered so as not to rouse the attention of Kapu, and Raumati and I walked to the point in the palisades at the rear of the fortress overlooking a steep bank, which was to lie the meeting place of the party. One by one they arrived and not a word was spoken as they unlashed three or four of the posts and swung them aside. Through the opening they passed and started down the cliff, clinging to what little hold offered. / Raumati was the last to ; go, and as he disappeared through the hole, I reached for his hand in the darkness and gave it an almost motionless grip. “Kia Ora! flood Luck!” I whispered. Without a word he slipped down from sight, I listening for a few moments to the sound of the descent, scarcely audible, till it ceased altogether. Barely had they vanished when a great cry rose from the main gate and, rushing to the spot, I saw the light of a fire on the brow of the hill between us and the river. The Men of Oromahoe had arrived! (To he Continued. - )