"LOOK-OUT HILL."

Auckland Star, Volume LVIII, Issue 136, 11 June 1927, Page 21

"LOOK-OUT HILL."

STORY OF A NIGHT MARCH. A RANGERS' RAID TEAT TAILED. (By J.C.) Pikopiko, otherwise called by the Maoris Puketoki, or Axe Hill, is one of those numerous sites of old-time fortifications in the Waikato now traversed by public roads. Those who travel across the beautiful green countryside to-day are indeed no! aware that her,-, as at Paterangi, close \>y, strong lines of entrenchment once barred tne way, and that the very ground over which the motor car so easily speeds to-day was grimly alive with armed men, camped in their dugouts or squinting out for a soldier target. At any rate very few indeed, and those only of the older generations, and an occasional pilgrim, searching out historic places, realise how manv coloured and stirring was the pioneer story of tnese now peaceful prosperous farming lands of the Waipa country. There was a Maori dray road, or rather trail, from Xgaruawahia, Whatawhata, and Tuhikaramea, passing through the heart of Waipa-Waikato basin and to Rangiaowhia, the central granary of the Waipa people in the days before and during the war of 186364. Wheat and flour and other foodproducts of the Maori were carted bv this road to the Waipa, passing through Paterangi usually to Te Rore, the great canoe landing on the river, whence the cargoes were taken down into the Waikato River and so to the Awaroa portage to the Manukau, and thence to Auckland. When, in January, 1864, , General Cameron's army invaded the 1 Waipa district, the three thousand Imperial and colonial soldiers were confronted by more skilfully designed systems of trentfn and redoubt defences covering the road inland via Pikopiko and Paterangi. Pikipiko—the NgatiManiopoto veterans of the war usually call it Puketoki—was the first or outer guard of these fortifications; then came Paterangi, and next Rangiatea; they effectually blocked the road inland to the great seat of food supplies, and Cameron's army sat down before the miles of rifle pits and redoubts that crowned and flanked Paterangi Hill, and considered the strength thereof. In those weeks of February, 1864, the most impatient of all the impatient soldiers who daily wondered when the General was going to storm the Kingite rifle-pits, was the gallant but often rather impetuous Major von Tempsky; he and Major William Jackson (both were captains then) each commanded a company of Forest Rangers, camped at Te Rore.

• Von Tempsky and his "bowie-knife bullv-boys," as someone once christened his company of hard-fighting Rangers, longed for a chance of getting to close quarters with the Maoris, but Cameron was cautious; he was waiting for information to enable him to outflank the Kingite defences. Lieutenant Mitchell, a Royal Navy officer (lent from ffM g. Esk) was killed on board the paddlesteamer Avon, while that vessel wai steaming up the Waipa River by a volley fired from an ambush on the east bank of the river. After his death the Rangers were generally rent oat on the days the Avon was expected from Ngaruawahia to prevent attacks on the steamer. (By the way, the shooting of Lieutenant Mitchell was simply retaliation on the part of the Maoris; on previous passages he and others on the Avon had amused themselves by sniping st natives digging potatoes at a point opposite Pikopiko.)

The Kmgites' Sentry Fort. Here comes in a story of a midnight enterprise, that reminds one in a way of certain night raiding parties of our lads who had sundry hair-raising adventures in the Great War. It is a hitherto unpublished account contained in the M.S. diary of Major Von Tempsky, from which I have previously quoted some warpath stories. "We never succeeded in cutting any of those Maoris off," wrote Yon Tempsky, in describing the events immediately following on Lieutenant Mitchell's death. "The natives had a sort of signal station on a hill we called the Look-out Hill, between Pikopiko and Paterangi; it was formed by a spur towards the river, distant from it about a mile. So soon as any of our troops moved out of Te Rore Camp, such movement was signalled at once from that hill, recalling stragglers. Colonel Nixon had then generally just skirmished along Pikopiko, accustoming his spirited young troopers to the whistling of balls." I had gradually perceived a perfect hatred for this sentry hill. I watched the operation of its vantage ground with

an eye sharpened by maligancy. I found out that either the hill was not at all tenanted at night or that but a few sentries were on it. I also had my suspicions that there were some rifle pits on it, so from all this I concocted the following little plot: I intended to creep up to it at night with my men and, if tenanted, to surprise the garrison, if empty to hide till daylight and pour a volley into the unconscious day garrison on their ap'proach. They had done something very similar near Paterangi to a picket of the 50th, and I intended, if possible, to pay them off „for it.

The Surprise Expedition. "I called for volunteers of the two companies of Forest Rangers. About sixty men with Westrupp and Roberts started with me at 12 o'clock at night. The men did their work well. The ground of our path had so much dust oh it that no footfall was heard, nor was there the breath of a whisper or the clank of a casual collision. I worked right round the look-out hill, intending to ascend it between Pikopiko and its own extremist point, in fact as near to Pikopiko as possible, so that in coming from that direction we might be mistaken for Maoris by the hill garrison if there were one.

"We had got so far on to Pikopiko past the hill itself, that we began) to hear the sentinels talking. We still approached in the shadow of a bight of the ridge, when we became listeners to an eloquent speech addressed evidently to a large audience. If we could only add to this the eloquence of our carbines! we thought, as we glided through the night more like phantoms than things of substance, when—oh, heaven! A rifle went off at the rear of my Indian file. "A dead silence ensued at once on the Maori side. Here was an end to our surprise. I made all the men lie down in extended order in the bush, hoping yet that the Maoris would come to investigate the cause of this shot. We waited for some time but nothing came. In the meantime I debated within myself whether it would be advisable yet to continue our advance. Cob-

sidering, however, that the Maoris had all the advantages of ground and numbers on their side, and that we had lost the only one, of surprise, I deemed it wiser to retire. "It was just as well we did so, for as we entered Te Rore, and daylight broke, we could see the whole ridge from the look-out hill to Paterangi swarming with Maori figures. "The originator of our failure was one of Jackson's men, Taylor, an old soldier of the 70th, but, poor fellow, he did not live long to bear the stigma of having marred a splendid enterprise. He fell at Orakau. "After that the Maoris attempted to retaliate upon my picket, and were foiled by coming suddenly upon some of my hidden sentries, who fired upon them and retreated in safety by the prescribed route. Of course, the two companies were in three minutes on the spot to support the picket if needed." Very, very few of those Rangers of the old war-path days are alive to-day to recall the days and nights of watchfulness and action on the Waikato trails. Colonel J. M. Koberts, X.Z.C., of Rotorua, is the solitary survivor of the officers; he is the "Deerfoot" of the Orakau chase in von Tempskv's descrip- | lion published in the "History of New Zealand Wars." Of his comrades under Jackson and von Tempsky I can only think of two still with us—SergeantMajor A. J. Bertram and Corporal William Johns, both of Auckland. Maybe, they can supplement this story of the old major's with some reminiscences of their own about that Look-out Hill of '64.