MORE MEMORIES.

Auckland Star, Volume LVIII, Issue 89, 16 April 1927, Page 21

MORE MEMORIES.

MAORI MENACE AND MOUNTED

PATROL

IN CAMP WITH HENARE AND,

TOMATT,

FISH PONDS ON COX'S CREEK.

'WHERE IS MY WANDERLNG BOY

TO-NIGHT V

(By NEVILLE FORDEE.) J. A suitable name for my wandering memories of dear old Auckland would be "Rambling Reviews," for I write just as the sights and scenes of long ago drift across the "silver screen" of reminiscence. Just now it struck me that a few words about the really early days, when people who, like my own folk, residing "out West," lived in a constant dread of a visit by marauding Maoris, would be of interest, both to "old hands" and the younger generation. My parents, accompanied by my mother's brother and sister, John and Lucy Reading, arrived in Auckland as "saloon" passengers aboard the ship Lord i William Bentinck, on August 26,1850. So the period was one when the warlike Maoris were really an ever-present potential danger. The Lord William Bentinck was a noble galleon of about 450 tons, and she took 150 uays—from March ?6 1850, to August 26, 1850—to cover a voyage that to-day is accomplished in, roughly, 40 days by palatial steamers] every comiorj[ with almost

absolute safety. My father and mother were married on August 21, 1849, and he, being the sole male survivor (with one sister) of a family of six sons and four daughters, eight having died of consumption in early man and womanhood, the Rev. John Law, rector of the parish church of Elvetham, Hampshire, and all other friends who were interested in him, urged him to seek a climate less inimical to his race. It was made quite a parish matter, and after deep cogitation, research and discussion, Auckland, New Zealand, was selected as the most likely climate to suit his case. It most certainly did! He died at 82 and his wife at the same age, two years later while only one of their four children has so far paid the debt of Nature, and ho (the first-born) lived to be 60. So that it may be safely assumed, with all proper modesty, that the climate of Auckland province is the very breath of life, efficacious even against so heavy a handicap as in this case.

Father built a house, "The Oaks," yclept, in York Street, Parnell, and there their four children were born, the first just a year and a month after they landed on the beach, where, in after years, Quetin Street wharf began. Mother xised to tell us how she was carried ashore from the ship's boat on the "cradle" formed by the crossed arms of two stalwart Maoris, and of the impression made upon her mind by the splendid calves of her bearers, so that she cried to her little party: "Just look at their calves! Why they'd be able to name their own wages, as London footmen!" • Five Acres, Ponsonby. Father was lonely without a bit ' of ground to cultivate, and, being permanently settled in a position in ELM. Customs, he bought from David Nathan, a five-acre block at what afterwards became Ponsonby. There were three such in a row. The top one was occupied by Forsaith (or Forsyth), the little draper who became famous as the cabinetmaker of "The Clean Shirt Ministry"—remember, Auckland had not then been robbed of its natural position m the geat of government—the second

by Mr. Anderton, a solicitor and a "pakeha Maori," wedded to a chieftainess of the Thames tribe to whose estates he afterwards retired and Queen Street knew him no more. Our block fronted the unnamed (so far as we knew) road that ran between us and tho cunningly chosen purchase of Sir Michael Seymour, naval commander, or admiral, of the station. Mike must have been a long-headed gentleman, for by that purchase—for a very small outlay—lie secured about a third of a mile of matchlessly beautiful water-frontage to the lovely upper readies of exquisite Waitemata, truly "sparkling water!"

Well, on this patch of titrec-covcred, undulating land, father hud built a house big enough to accommodate his family of seven. Rcid and Sous, who afterwards settled on the eastern slope of Arch Hill, fronting the fresh-water part of Cox's Creek, were the builders; but it was threo or four years before the verandah round two sides, the dairy and storeroom and. what we called "endverandah" were completed. It was in 18o!> that wo moved over from Parncll; so that it can well be imagined that we were real "outbackers," and more than a little lonely. This was especially so when the natives were giving trouble and when, for instance, the absurd and dangerous "joke" of "imprisoning" a big batch of captured warriors on Kawau Island, was perpetrated. Mounted Patrol. They could have come south about and reached the Waitemata, just as easily, and so on from Riverhead to Helensville; and it is not to be wondered at that Auckland was a bit scary, to say nothing of we outlying "settlers." That the military authorities recognised that there was actually some possibility of attack was proved by the adoption of a mounted patrol system and many a night have I lain in bed with my younger brother and heard the thud of hoofs and the jinglo of cavalry accoutrements. Many a tine morning have we two kids been out bright and early to track the patrol which had galloped right around the western side of ous house, the abso-

lute furthest west of the part of the Auckland suburb since designated l'onsonby, and u fine city in itself. Strangely enough both our nearest neighbours. Marsdcn and Anderton. were solicitors and both had Maori wives, and when we mixed with their dusky relatives and found them ideal mates and teachers of Maori lore of the beach, the bush, the scrub and the waters, wo soon lost any fear of the natives who used to periodically raid our part of the harbour and the creeks we haunted. Also familiarity was augmented when, after a few years, but while wc were still "piccaninnies." father engaged Maori labour for the heavy work, such as draining and digging. To hire a couple of men from the camp in Freeman's Bay. meant having tho whole family on the premises, the erection of their tents and a true initiation into Maori habits and customs. Whilo the men dug the wah hies would scour the beach for pipis (of which there were millions), oysters and mussels. Ono unforgettable evening, when wc were schoolboys and inveterate roamcrs of the beautiful district—going after the cows or horses generally meant an excursion that did not always end so happily as this one —my brother and 1 wandered through tho then wonderland that was the abandoned lialstead estate (afterwards bought by Win. Mason, who made a fortune out of fruit and strawberries on it) and. in the gathering dusk, espying blue smoke lazily drifting among tho dense flax, tui-tui, tilrec and other native trees and bushes, on the little flat at the bottom of the cliffs, right at the big bend of Cox's Creek, we felt it incumbent upon us as true "forestrangcrs," to investigate. Slithering down tho goat tracks that wound around the soft soil cliffs we came upon two handsome Maori youths, camped under the shelter of a grove of willows, evidently two scapegrace lads who had tired of the dull life of the kainga (probably up Henderson's Mill way) had taken a canoe and started out to enjoy the real primitive life—eat what you catch and sleep under the stars!

They were surprised to see us, but at once made ua welcome and askcjuia tot

stay and eat with them. Boys arc always hungry and though we had had our tea only an hour l*cfore we accepted.j They had just started two fine sohuappcr.! fresh from the creek—which was a great I feeding ground for these splendid li»h in those days; aye. and lots of other kind*! as T may tell later—and were watching J them roast over the little fire of driftwood and dry titree; the while turning a number of rcwai* (potatoes) baking in the hot ashes. Big fern leaves made jierfect plates and there was full and plenty! And how wc home-fed boys did enjoy that feast in tlie firelight. Never did schnapper and spuds taste so divinely; never has any since! It is the only way to get the real flavour out of the fish. Just stick a thin titree wand into him. jab it into the ground, leaning towards and partly over the steady little fin-, and occasionally turning the stick so that Im>Ui sides cook similarly. Slit him open when done and let the innards drop out in a neat kill, and you've got a properly roasted scluiapper. and a feast such as I.ucullus never even dreamed al»out! After supper the Maori lads became anxious to seize the opportuuiiy of acquiring some pakcha education, and my gift for cotnpusiliou and song came in well, to the immense delight of these splendid sous of the wild. One of tbem already had learned to read and write, and glowed with pride when we praifed his writing—on a shingle found in the drift at the edge of the creek, with a burnt stick for a pencil, the words: "My dear. lam quite well to go sec London." Then, suddenly, from the black heights, came a loud "coocc."' We recognised father's voice and answered, shrill and loud. Dad was pretty hard of bearing, so fearing he might wander and get into danger himself—being quite unaccustomed to such excursion?—we hastily bid our charming hosts good-bye, dallied up the cliffs and caught dad just as hc| was starting in another direction in an, anxious hurry. He had not heard ourj cooecs and had already walked rough miles searching for his truants. I bet | tho Maori boja' old man never bolhenoAtl