A MAORI MUMMY.
LOST TO ADCKJLAND MUSEUM. TALE OF THE MANUKAU HEADS. (By HAROLD ROBERTS.) Fifty or sixty years ago the shipping trade of Onehunga was really the only remarkable thing about the place, for it was not easy at first glance to find any excuse for the existence of the large fleet of mosquito craft which thronged the port. When the tide was in the white sails of small schooners nnd cutters flecked the darker waters of the Manukau in all directions as they darted hither and thither, running out'through the heads regardless of " the bar and its moaning," with their cargoes of supplies for the hardy pioneers who had started to make their homes in the bush near the bays and harbourages which indent the coastline, or scudding back inwardbound, filled to the hatches with firewood and farm produce. When the tide was high it was n pretty picture, Ibut at low ebb the scene was greatly clianged. I know of no harbour which presents so cheerless, melancholy, and depressing an appearance as the Manukau does at lowwater. The eye finds nothing to relieve the utter weariness of the vast stretches of dismal mud-flats and desolate sandbanks. Even the sea birds seem to tire of trying to make a living on them. They soon quit the profitless fishing, and wing their way to more promising localities. At such times the cutters and small craft which had not left the harbour, or wctc not moored to the wharves, also looked sad and dejected. With the falling tide they would go down until they " took the ground," when they would form cradles for themselves in the muddy ooze, and heel over on their bilges in more or less graceful " angles of repose," until the incoming tide refloated them. °
The shipping trade of the port, even m those early days, was so considerable that the establishment and maintenance of -a well-appointed pilot station at the Heads was a necessity. Probably the hardy skippers of the smaller vessels that ran in and out rarely required to take a pilot, although soroe'df the larger ships that occasionally came in, and whose officers were strangers to the tortuous channels, no doubt did. But tho treacherous bar's habit of shifting more or less with almost every spell of bad weather was a constant menace. It had to be watched continually, and this made work for pilots.
At one time the late Captain W. Champion was one of the pilots stationed at the Heads, and one of his most important duties was to take soundings on the bar. especially after foul weather. If tliere were found any changes in the run of the channels, corresponding alterations were at once jnarle in the positrons of the buoys, beacons, and leading marks, so Unit mariners were kept well apprised a.s to the right course to steer in order to avoid danger. One forenoon ilu> captain was out in his wlraleboat with his crew of six bands, engaged in ,fliis task, when it came on to blow very heavily. As there was every appearance "of " dirty weather," the skipper decided to run for shelter under the lee of one of the islands lying oir the coast, probably Paratuhie. Ou the landward side of "the inhospitable lookup rock. they., matfe for was found a convenient haven iv the shape of a nice little bay with a strip of sandy beach. It did not take their willing arms long to run the heavy boat ushore and into the month of a cave, water-worn in the sandstone cliff back of the beach. There they mado themselves comfortable, and not before time, for it was now raining in torrents, and, although they were on the lee side of the island, the prospect seaward was dismal enough to make them thankful for the cosy nook they had hit upon. All hands proceeded to make the best of the situatkm, and they were cheerful and comfortable enough for some time. Then one of tho crew, more adventaurous or curious than the others, said ho was going to explore the cave, which it had 'been noticed was much higher and larger than they had at first supposed. lie took a candle, and having been warned by the captain not to lose himself by attempting the examination of any side caverns or galleries, wan speedily lost to sight iv the black gloom extending beyond the light of the fire they had built on the floor. Some minutes elapsed in silence, broken only by the wash of the waves and the beating of the rain, nnd then suddenly there came from the depths of the cave a Wood-freezing yell of mortal terror. Skipper and crew started to their feet in alarm, which quickly turned into apprehension for the safety of their comrade, for they well knew that the islaud was uninhabited by any human beings, and therefore that fearsome shriek, if it came from human lips at all, must have been uttered by the "explorer." For a few instants they stood as paralysed. Recovering some of their self-possession, they quickly decided to follow the unfortunate man and sec what had happened to him, when back he came, flying out of the blackness as if lie had been shot from a catapult. Ho was the most badly frightened man any of them had ever seen. His face was as white as the foam on the beach, and his teeth chattered like castanets, while his wits seemed to have entirely . deserted him. It took more than one stiff "nip" of rum to pull him together sufficiently to make himself coherent. Then he related that he bad gone into the cave "a long ways" and saw nothing but seaweed and drift wood on the sandy floor, while the roof and sides were groined and pillared in the fantastic forms often seen in water-worn caverns. If there was anything more unusual in the place, his faint candle light failed to reveal it. And then
"Suddenly I turned'a bit of a corner," he said, "an' there settin' on a rock glarin' at mc with eyes in his head like coals of fire was a great black monster of a heathen divel. I didn't take a second look at him, for seem' he was goin' to jump I let a yell out o' mc, dropped my candle, and run for the daylight."
Tliis improbable y;irn from a very much frightened and overstrung man didn't seem very credible, but lie stuck to bis story and at last convinced his mates that he had really 6cen '-something." They decided to go and find out for themselves what that "something" was. Capt. Champion carefully loaded bis fowling-piece, and the other members of the crew armed themselves as best they could with the movable fittings of the boat. The "explorer," of course, couldn't be induced to leave the boat, which he wasted launched at once. He vowed he wouldn't enter "that den o' divels again, no, not for all the saints in the calendar." The party lighted candles and went up the cave in a body. They found everything just as the sailor had said until they came to the "bit of a corner" he had spoken of. And then the stoutest-hearted of them got a shock he had hardly expected. They had
reckoned upon finding "something," no doubt; but not exactly what they did find.
■Seated in a natural niche cut by the tides in the wall of the cave, and in quite a lifelike posture, was the mummified corpse of a huge Maori. Measurements subsequently taken showed that the man, when in 'life, must have stood well over seven feet in height. Having recovered somewhat from their surprise and bewilderment, the boat's crew made a more minute examination of the body. The elbows rested upon the knees, and the face, which was splendidly tattooed, was supported in the palms of the outspread hands, giving the gruesome appearance of a man sitting in deep thought. The wrists and ankles were bound together with broad bands of flax, which when touched fell into dust, as did -the mats with which the body was clothed. But what was still more amazing was the fact that the skin and ilesh were pliant and the joints flexible, as if the man had died half an hour previously ami rigor mortis had not set in. The body and features did not seem to be wasted or in any way distorted. In fine, it wad the unimpaired mummy of a magnifi-cently-proportioned man of gigantic stature.
When speech came to the boat's crew the first suggestion made was that they should bury the body in the sandy floor of the cave, but the marvellous state of preservation which it was in, and curiosity as to how and through what agency it had continued in that condition, perhaps for centuries, decided them that it was a matter well worthy of investigation by more scientific minds than theirs. They determined to carry it down to the whaleboat and convey it to Auckland at the first opportunity. They reached the Pilot Station with their ghastly burthen that evening, and drew the whale-boat up on the beach. The mummy had been reverently covered with a sail, and was allowed to remain in the bottom of the boat. Although all hands were enjoined to say nothing about the discovery, the news was 6oon the common property of everyone at the Pilot Station. Unfortunately the pakehae did not keep it to themselves, but passed it on to some of the Maoris and halfcastes who were always hanging about the place, and .they did not Teceive the information with complacency uot manifest any pleasure at the prospect of tho remains of one of their ''illustrious dead" being exhibited in a glass case at the Museum. When the white people went down to the boat first thing in the morning they found that their mummy and its sail-cloth covering had vanished*! There was no trace of it. anywhere, and nothing to indicate how it had disappeared. But the sullen looks of the Maoris left little doubt on the matter, especially when the peculiar veneration in which the natives hold the relics and burial places of their ancestors was called to mind.
War had not then broken out, bnt a good many of the tribes were more or less disaffected. It was deemed wise, in •the circumstances, that the incident slronld be forgotten ns soon as possible, and it was never officially reported to' anybody.
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Bibliographic details
Auckland Star, Volume XLIV, Issue 77, 1 April 1913, Page 7
Word Count
1,762A MAORI MUMMY. Auckland Star, Volume XLIV, Issue 77, 1 April 1913, Page 7
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