OUR LOST TRIBES.

Auckland Star, Volume LVIII, Issue 136, 11 June 1927, Page 8

OUR LOST TRIBES.

A southern college professor has read a paper to the local Philosophical Society on a quite human subject, the alleged Lost Tribe at Maruia, tar down in the mountainous corner where Xelson, Canterbury and Westland provincial districts meet. This is a pleasing breakaway from the earnestly unintelligible papers on microscopical creatures with names of appalling magnitude with which philosophical societies are wont to wrestle. I lie professor did not discover the elusive tribe, which is a pakeha one, lineal descendants of the pioneer diggers. lam inclined to believe that most of the yarns about it originated in a certain bush pub a few miles into the south side of the Buller River. They call the place thereabouts Murchison, but it is sprinkled with locally famous names of the Murphy's Creek variety. Once upon a time a gentleman of royal descent kept a pub and store. Being descended from the ancient Irish king*, he was styled King O'Flahcrty, or whatever it was, and he ruled his tribe of digger end •bushfarniing retainers in true patriarchal stvie.

It was there or thereabouts that one has observed a plea.-ant social custom of Diggerland. When a stranger found his way into Mick Houlihan s ITat, or whatever it was. and chucked down his bag 011 the pub verandah, the boss reached under the bar counter and drew forth his bush bugle, a cow s horn. \\ hile the stranger breasted the bar, the boss blew a resounding blast on the horn. Presently wild-bcarded "hatters"' and l»u«hmcn were seen emerging from the scrub in all directions making for the Blankv Grand Hotel al 11 ., ru n." ' le hhoys '11 be here any moment now. ' said the boss as he returned to his place lie hind the slab counter, and set out glasses and pannikins. 'I he stranger, of course, had to shingle the roof in generous style when the tribe troo[>ed in. They say that only once were the local population disappointed when the wecklv coach di-igorged a visitor. His name began with Mac. and he came from Aberdeen.

Maruia an.i its neiphbourins plens and flats no doubt nave lost some of their picturesque-no-s of life since the old prospectors carried their la.-t swap and breasted the last bar. But farther on. far down the South Westland coast, there are some little communities as rugped as the wild landscajie around them. Round about the mouth of that mile-wide river, the Haast, and down beyond apain at Jackson's Bay—which is as far as you can ride on the West Coast—there are old-timers and their families who have never »ecn a railway train, a movie, or a motor car. Perhaps they don't miss much, and their chances of life are lonpor than the city man's. There is a little tribe of Maoris on the Makawhio River, the Npati-Mahaki, about thirty people, the most isolated native hapu in New Zealand.

And again southward, but only reached by sea or bv the overland track from" Lake Wakatipu, is tile last tribe of all. the Jew settlers who have hung out at Martin s Bay. A Government of lone apo—may the Lord have mercv on its soul—planted this little settlement there in the nio?t utterly God-forsaken hole and corner in these islands. They have had to trust to the lhnemoj. and later the Tutanekai, on her biannual visits for their sustenance from the outside world. How on earth they contrive to pay for their stores is a mystery, but I surmise thev round up a little mob of wild cattle now and again. or catch taniwhns or pluck kiwis to earn an ]>one«t bag of flour and sack ol suear.