The Incognito.

Auckland Star, Volume XXX, Issue 76, 1 April 1899, Page 7 (Supplement)

The Incognito.

By SINCLAIR, Thames.

This tale was placed among- the first twenty in our Prize Story Competition. 'KE CEDE MALIS.' ' i . _ CHAPTER I. One moonless summer night about a hundred years ago, the staunch old whaler Stormy Petrel lay at anchor » off Kawau Island, having run in there for shelter from a threatening- storm on her way down from the Bay of. Islands. A strongly fortified Maoria pa occu- . pied the highest part of the island, while a populous and thriving kainga nestled in the sweetest and most sheltered vale, up from the western chore, protected by hills which shut it in on the north, south, and eastern quarters. The natives of the kainga were friendly, and during their sojourn the sailors had been treated is favoured guests by the chief and jxis tribe. And on this evening, with reluctance, they tore themselves away, as they heard the boatswain pipe 'All Jiands aboard.' The crew were duly counted as they tumbled up the ship's side, men for the greater part coarse of speech and stoutly built. The boat was drawn up and secured to -the davits; an extra tot of rum tossed off alike in cabin forecastle. The freshening breeze must not be lost, and the men were soon all on deck, weighing the anchor and setting the sails, with an infinite amount of noisy invective and unwholesome expletive on the part of the lordly skipper. At last, under the shimmering of the holy stars, the Petrel began to slip through the water. In the confusion and obscurity of the hour, unjioticed by his half-muddled mates, a ""^sailor adroitly let himself over the stern of the ship, and sliding down by the aid of a rope, dropped noiselessly into the tide, striking out for the island beach, which, like a White iand, extended towards him a friendly welcome. Farewell, Stormy Petrel, than tight little craft for weathering the stormy ■f seas, for Maurice O'Meara has forsaken thy sturdy planks for the pipi beaches and ferny slopes of this fair terra firma. Unconcerned and unconscious of the Joss of the finest man of his motley srew, the obfuscated captajn steered Jor the open sea, and the bond beiween the-ship and the sailor was . .broken, never again to be cemented. All this time our friend Maurice O'Meara, as he styled himself (though neither godfather nor godmother were responsible for the cognomen), with the cool, steady stroke of an expert swimmer, has been rapidly approaching the shore, and now, in shallow water, ventures to wade ashore. He is almost inclined to anathematise the Southern Cross overhead for displayin"- suclj unnecessary brilliance, though, in truth, the friendly stars are lighting the deserter's footsteps on this silent foreign strand. The shells crunch alarmingly under the tread of the muscular though bare feet as Maurice speeds towards the bush-clad risjng ground on his right, in a different direction from the pa. The deserter has made good use of his opportunities by daylight and marked out with sufficient accuracy the course to be taken on this midnight escapade* The natives have beaten a track through the maunga maunga and titree to the top of this hill, and heedless of his dripping clothes up this path the sailor breathlessly urges his •way. The highest pan; of the ground breaks off in, an abrupt precipice seaward and the ceaseless surging of the Testless deep on the rocks at its base pressed with melancholy weightonthe heart of the lone human being leaning with careless safety against the trunk of a tree marked by himself in daylight, as safely distant from the verge, and yet near enough to allow a wide -view of the moaning, mysterious sea. . With perfect satisfaction the daring adventurer, from this coign of vant- ( age, watched the gradually receding light of the old lantern, which he had so often lighted on board the Petrel in days, or nights, gone by. His recent perilous experience seemed a thing of no moment, nor was it in the eyes of this waif of the world. He even chuckled to himself over the dismay of the captain the next mornIng on finding out his loss. "'■ There was, indeed, a possibility of the Petrel returning on the chance of finding him on the island, but, on the other hand, the artful . plotter had simulated such a degree of intoxication previous to her departure as to render any, other theory sav.e that he •had fallen overboard highly improbj able, while well he knew that not another man on board would have dreamed of trusting himself alone, unarmed to the tender mercies of capricious savages. And on these two chances Maurice O'Meara had dared • this bid for liberty. Who shall say ■what strange scenes flitted before the deserter's mental gaze as at last he threw himself carelessly on the fern •at the foot of the tree coolly composing himself to finish the night there? 'If the angels ever weep, truly here iras a fit object to compel their tears. A sane mortal, with superb physical and mental endowments, deliberately stepping down from his hereditary platform of cultured civilisation and privilege, first to consort and hobnob with his white inferiors, and now (scarcely a step lower, 'tis true) this ; suicidal immolation, this premeditated ■union with an alien race of another colour, and aeons behind his own in all development of soul which constitutes the supreme glory of man. ; However, if the angels wept, Maurice did not, but slept as reposefully. perhaps more so, than thd. Lord High Chancellor of England. \ With the dawn he awoke, and moving warily round the island, looked m ■vain from its beetling crags northWard in quest of the Petrel. Carelessly clad in sailor suit, and, barefooted withal, in the inspiring morning light the man showed the strength of limb and regularity of feature of a Greek demi-god, more out of place surely on the deck of the evilly-manned whaler than standing with cnaracteristic assurance on the ■ heights of this ocean Eden, for the moment as isolated as Adam the First I In Paradise. Satisfied that there was *o immediate danger of recal from his late captain, Maurice took; off bis fclue

jumper, after taking from the bosom of it a small packet wrapped tig-htly round with a piece of oilcloth. Laying this on the fern, he proceeded to wring out the salt water that remainedin his garments; hiding the packet in the hollow of a conspicuous tree, and leaving part of the others to dry, Maurice prepared to make his way into the kainga. The morning sun was shining on the white beach below, and the native w6men already were out gathering sticks to supplement the fires that smoked so hospitably outside I lie raupo whares nestled cosily in that most delightful valley, these primitive structures to be superseded in later years by the ideal English mansion, embowered not only in the luxuriant native-foliage, but in the graceful products of many a fair and foreign clime, when steamer and yacht lay safely moored to the tiny jetty running out from the pebbled strand into the fair harbour of Bon Accord, while Sir George Grey, with lavish hospitality, did the honours of his lovely island home. CHAPTER 11. Some of the canoes were afloat in. the bay, and as he came down in leisurely fashion Maurice gathered from the tone and, gesticulations of the natives that they were deploring the departure of the Petrel. Unable to speak more than half-a-dozen words of their language, his natural ability soon enabled him to grasp the gist of their conversation, so without any fear he calmly stalked out of the bush toward the group of industrious wahincs who were now following the receding tide and extracting from their sandy beds the reluctant pipis for the matutinal meal. On catching sight of Maurice Ihey left their praiseworthy occupation, to race helter-skelter up the shore., shouting at the top of their hmgs, 'Haere mai, haere mai,' while the fishers afloat paddled to shore with vast celerity, adding their basso 'Haere mai' to the wahines' treble. The natives in the kainga poured forth in mad excitement, and the tribal chief Rewi had much ado to maintain his dignity, while gratifying his curiosity. Hemmed in by the 'haere-mai-iug' crowd, Maurice stood, laughing with an indolent tolerance on his handsome face. The natives were of splendid physique, but not a man among them had the advantage in either height, build or muscle. Approving murmurs went round the excited circle of 'Rangitira, tino Tangata,' and again they joined in chorusing 'Haere mai.' But the pride of Rewi was ludicrous when finally hetgrasped the idea that Maurice had elected to cast in his lot with them, to become one of his hapu. He raced madly from one end of the crowd to the other, exciting himself to oratorical pitch, then waved his mere in a manner more suggestive of annihilation than welcome, and finally darting at the stranger, grasped his hand and rubbed his nose long and vigorously. The rest of the tribe would not be denied similar outbursts of gratified feeling, and finally in triumphal piccession they escorted with proud consciousness their new and delightful acquisition into the kaing-i. In a few days Maurice had mastered enough of their language to enable him to make his immediate wants known, and the rest was but a matter of time. Neither education nor culture were lacking, and could it be that such a personality would calmly, without a. thus ostracise itself from its own social kind, and abdicate? Not quite. Once on the wave-washed heights of the lonely island, as Maurice stood, on a subsequent day, looking over the long, blue rollers of the Pacific, extending to the horizon, some mystic influence touched a slumbering chord, ; and the strong man writhed in his^ agony, while the merciless furies .of j remorse at their pleasure tortured him with their scorpion lashes. Voices to which he had long turned a deaf ear seemed loudly calling him now. Faces he would fain have forgotten looked on him with the love of other days. Thirty years old! a lifetime lay behind him. It was a crucial hour; all that was tenderest, truest in that strong nature asserted itself and demanded justice. And had it been possible at the moment pursuant to that mood, a prodigal returned would indeed have received a father's welcome in the home land beyond the blue. Alas! it was impossible. A sense of desolation j swept over his soul, with the inevit- | able reaction from the recent tension, and with the revulsion of feeling a conviction of the awful gulf fixed between himself and the fair, pure originals of those haunting memories, like a sirocco wind, seemed to scorch the life out of the better thoughts born of the hour; they had but lived to die, leaving the heart in which they should have flourished—desert. The Good Angel was again defeated, as the Spirit of Evil marshalled himself on the side of his victim—two to one, the issue was foregone! With a bitter laugh, a mockery of mirth, the handsome sinner at last turned towards the kainga, a sudden and reckless determination had taken hold of him. He was not fit to return to his father's house, in his own proud estimation (though many a man with greater stains upon Ms soul, with suave complacency receives society's kind attentions). Well, he would put a final bar to any thought of returning thither—in effect, burn his-ships behind him. Hitherto Maurice had worn his own garments, such as they were, but now he boldly demanded from his chiet a j native mat. This request was no sooner uttered than it Avas gratified, when he proceeded to array himself as I a Maori, presently stalking forth from his whare in the novel costume with a defiant light in his dark blue eyes, which once a mother had thought the sweetest in all the world. But the metamorphosis was not yet complete. Maurice next.paid his respects to the tohunga, with whom he held a long korero, the outcome of it all that the pakeha desired to be tatooed! Great was the excitement m the kainga when this news spread. 'If 'twere well 'twere done, 'twere well it were quickly done,' muttered Maurice, as the tohunga reappeared with the tools of his trade. Mixing a little soot with poroporo juice, and. tracing a pattern on the unmoying face, he bade Maurice view the lines of beauty in the only mirror in all the kainga, a pool of limpid water. Maurice, by this time, had quite: succeeded in his determination that he must to the full enter into his new character, therefore, with commendable docility, he obeyed the tohunga's behest, and after a critical study ot his soot-begrimed visage, gravely approved the design, and gathering his flax mat about him, laid his head on the tohunga's lap, and the operation ,was .begun at once. As the fern-stalk

in the tohunga's right hand came down on the puncturing1 whalebone uhi, the sickening pain of the many simultaneous incisions was presumably deadened by the sympathetic chorus of admiring wahines seated near, who sang with more than usual fervour on this occasion— In a group we sit And eat together, And we look at the marks On the eyes and nose Which turn here and there Like the legs of a Lizard. Tatoo him with the Chisel of Mata-" or a. Do not be so wistful That the women should see thee: They are getting the young leaf From the Wharawhara. I am the author Of your beautiful marks. • The man with the payment , v Tatoo him nicely: Strike the sounds. Tangaroa, rise thou. Lift up, Tangaroa, CHAPTER 111. Not long after the events just narrated had taken place, Rewi determined to .migrate from his island, and paying one or two state visits of native, etiquette on the way, pro- | ceed to his far-distant kainga in the Waikato country. Maurice hailed the change with delight—an increase of excitement, an increase of life. Hardly the hereditary chief himself enjoyed greater honour, while his mana was unquestionably less than that of the quondam sailor, his haughty, autocratic habits, combined with his generous nature, being totheir quick perception the hall-marks of a rangatira; therefore they bowed before him in unfeigned homage, while the girls vied with each other in striving to attract his attention. The preparations for removing went forward merrily, and all being at last completed, it was indeed an inspiriting sight as one after another vhe long, fully manned canoes conveying this part of Rewi's iwi pushed out from the snow-white, beach, and riding lightly over the. incoming rollers of the Pacific, rounded the headland of that happy island, and with jest and song the rowers paddled swiftly towards the long calm reaches of the bright Waitemata. The crimson masses o£ the pohutukawa hung low over the blue waves that broke against the high headlands on their right and left, While the flaxen plumes of the toi toi and the spears of the flax grew densely down on the shelving shore to the water's edge. The artistic instincts had not been extinguished with the assumption of mat and tattoo, and Maurice, sitting in the prow of the chief canoe, looked with admiration on the silent yet sunlit hills and bush-clad vales of the Virgin Land. Gay jokes and merry laughter woke the charmed river, songs and riddles passed from lip to lip, or from one canoe to. another. . With roguish glances from their lustrous eyes the maidens improvised in honour of the pakeha, classing him with toas of their own race; then in gay gleefnlness revealing their white teeth they sang, for his especial benefit, with 'many a sweet and languishing refrain, of Te Aroha, Te Aroha.' To all of which sweet adulation and incense our friend was by no means unresponsive. But one kindly glance from those magnetic eyes was reward enough for any one of the darkhaired syrens. And as Maurice had no intention of poaching, and no desire to awake the wrath of their native admirers, the wholesale flirtation was innocent enough. At last they landed on the silent strand, and after securing their canoes proceeded to march up hill through the ti-tree and dense bush towards the pa on Maungawhao. The men as befitted their priority and rank went first in unencumbered ease, while the women, burdened' with the impedimenta, lagged dutifully and industriously in the rear. And the poor things hadn't even the satisfaction of having it out with their mean males in curtain lectures, or at the Women's League. Oh! to think of their crass ignorance and wicked, wicked submission. If they could only come back to Auckland (not to Erin) now, and Bead the papers! Think of it!" f Yet they laughed as they toiled, arid in due time reached Maungawhao. Now, that dear and justly celebrated mountain did not on that occasion exhibit on its volcanic slopes a prodigious pinus growth, nor yet was there any pair of sweet - breathed cows thereunder ruminating on pine needles for lack of more, succulent [ fare, to the distraction of their owner. The chief business of Auckland was transacted then on these forsaken terraces. Beautiful for situation indeed was that ancient wharetown, though its thronging citizens looked north, south, east, and west on a silent and slumbering land. The arrival of Rewi was expected, and long before his people reached the pa a reception committee awaited their coming. This was merely a fraternal visit, saris ceremony. Yet a good deal of palaver had to be gone through on both sides. After a wildly exhilarating chorus of 'Haere mai' had greeted the appearance of Rewi's tribe as they struggled up the slope, to which they responded with surprising energy, the strangers made their way to°the long shed of ranpo prepared for them outside the pallisade. Clean rushes strewed the floor, while with unstinted liberality from the pa above the women and/ girls came down, bearing each her burden of food. When the chiefs' portion was laid before, them by the diligent | waitresses, in the clean, new flax kit, I Maurice, like another Benjamin, ! found his portion of taro and eels i more than ample. He also found that this was evidently due to the care of a beautiful young _ native, whose charms seemed to impress Maurice more deeply than had been the case of any belle of the little island. , 'Who is she?' he asked, watching the lissom figure in the mat of huia fea- j thers. , I 'Hawea, the chief's daughter, was the reply. . • It did not take Maurice long to make up his mind that in Hawea he beheld as perfect a type of native beauty as he could meet with any- J where. . 'i On explaining the case to Rewi, that j chief, who had no daughter, and did not therefore feel slighted, acted iis diplomat between his pakeha and the chief of Maungawhao, with the result that, after due deliberation and undue koreio, at least in the eyes of the suitor, the beautiful Nymph of the Mountain Pa was called, and they said unto her: 'Wilt ihou go with this man?' and she said, M will go.' Thus wag Maurice provided with a wife. And faithful indeed did she prove to thi pakeha of her choice, 'My Chief,' as she was proudly wont to call ■hiau- -,•, •■ ...:■.. , • „.•;-

I By this alliance Maurice had formed i another and. even stronger link in the | chain which bound him to the native i race, As a chieftainess, Hawea had her own portion of the fair country, as i well as her slaves to cultivate it. And after a clay or two Oi feasting at the foot of the mountain Maungawhao, these were added to Rewi's train, for no inducements would move that worthy to part with his pakeha, though Hawea's sire was more than willing to provide him with a whare upon the terraces of his magnificent pa. It might not be. So after a vast deal of korero and no.se rubbing, Rewi's contingent g-ot back to their canoes on the bosom of the Waitemata, and with many diviations in their primitive progress through the fertile land, at last they came to their own, in the heart of the rich Waikato country. In superintending the taro plantations, or visiting the rat traps on the surrounding hill tops, snaring the wild pigeon as they feasted on the poroporo berries, or attending to Rewi's hereditary eel weirs, the uneventful years slipped away. Sons and daughters were born to Maurice and Hawea, but one by one they faded away, passing to the solemn shades of Reinga. Tribal wars decimated the nomadic tribes, and whispers peuetrated even to the remotest kainga of dark and terrible forms of utu, when the mere was polished and the spear sharpened, while the earth trembled under the tread of the tino iangatas in the horrific war dance. CHAPTER IV. Fifty years had passed away. The western sunbeams were lingering lovingly about the summit cf proiYd Pirongia, while the sinuous Waikato flashed back their dazzling radiance from a hundred curves of beauty which the jealous native foliage would fain ha\e altogether veiled from such visitor.-;. On the banks of the river at a iittie distance from .he adjacent kainga, under a mere roof of raupo supported on four punga uprights, lay an aged man in the hour of death. With affections! cc solicitude an elderly native woman crouched on the ground at his side, wiping the dews from his clammy brow with a handful of soft flax. . : Alone, and nearer the river, sat an old tohunga, mumbling many karakias to speed the passing soul. A group of women huddled near, giving vent to bursts of genuine or perfunctory sorrow; but she who sat by the dying gave vent to no outcry, only the tears <hat rolled swiftly down her sable cheeks. The concentrated gaze on the face of the departing, and the silent pressure of her own against it, voiced with dumb eloquence the native wahine's dog-like devotion to her chic". The sunbeams slipped from Pirongia's embrace, the river ran coldly through the sunless plain, the birds flew swiftly to their nests, and the eyes of the prostrate chief opened and looked up into the face bent over him. But there was no light of recognition in their dark blue depths. 'Mother! Alice!' he muttered, and the faithful watcher understood not the words of her chief. The hands moved restlessly over the native mat, and the lips formed another unknown word, as the dying man feebly tried to lift a little book concealed by his.; side. Almost. pitifully, entreatingly, he whispered again with anguished eyes, 'Prayers.' But the Maori woman only wept. Then, with sudden fictitious strength, he sat upright. 'A miserable sinner. God, have mercy,' he cried distinctly.There was a convulsive movement, a relaxing of the powerful frame, aud (the once courted, idolized scion of a proud line in another hemisphere had drunk to the bitter lees the cup which in youth's heyday self will had offered with specious guile as wine of the gods. He had not tried to raise the alien race with whom he had elected to dwell to nobler levels, but adapted himself by conscious descent in the rank of civilisation to their manner and mode of life, and this exit was bub the inevitable Nemesis for the despised birthright. Now from the assembly arose the melancholy wailing for the dead, the mournful tangi. All through the eerie hours of darkness, by the light of the watch fires, the mournful sounds were heard. On the following day the faithful Hawea, with the other women of the hapu, rent the air with their griefstricken cries. The others wore .garlands of green leaves with white feathers in their hair. But Hawea's temples were bound with a fillet of dog's hair. Standing before the corpse with ■ dramatic gesture, she cried in tones of anguish, only, possibly, produced by a native, My fragrant bundle the Piripiri, My fragrant bundle, the Moki Moki, My fragrant bundle, the Tawhiri, My sweet juice of the Taramea. The companion o£ the Greenstone Is gone. Alas! Alas! With plaintiff chorus from her companions the pihe (dirge) was maintained, till at last the exhausted mourners subsided intiO inarticulate moaning, beyond description plaintive and harrowing, i The sharp dhell -also did its work on faces and bosoms. While the tohunga and men of the hapu chanted for the soul of the dead now in the shades of the gloomy reinga, the kaheru (spade) was made with which to dig the grave, and with many karakias (incantations) this duty was performed. All the worldly belongings of Maurice O'Meara were displayed around his lifeless form, and these were henceforth useless, because tapu. When the last sad rites of nehunga (interment) were over and the paura mamae fired, in the aljen wahi tapu by the blue Waikato they left him, oil his lonely grave an English prayer book and a school boy's Euclid (the only tHingfS brought from the Petrel ■by Maurice on that far off summer | night, and faithfully kept by him during life, though the prayer book had been little used). These sole memorials, yet insufficient links (for the names were torn out) to connect the morning and even> ing of as mysterious and unique a life as ever closed beneath the Southern Cross.