Footprints Of History A Dramatic Rescue Off Cape Kidnappers

Dominion, Volume 30, Issue 154, 27 March 1937, Page 11

Footprints Of History A Dramatic Rescue Off Cape Kidnappers

MAORI TREACHERY FOILED

Episode Of Cook’s First Voyage

(By

Stephen Gerard.)

High up, high, up on the bald brow of Cape Kidnappers the gannets built their nests. On either side of their sanctuary white cliffs like the cliffs of England fell sheer five hundred feet into the sea, with the insensate wavelets lapping at their feet. Westward and north the great bay curved in a wide circle, backed by the lofty' ranges, the Ruahines and the cloud-veiled Huiarau. Eastward, the ocean rolled unbroken till the sky dipped down to meet it. And on the summit of the lean ; foreland, squatting rank upon rank on the bare baked clay, brooded the countless seabirds, big grown adults with black and white plumage sleekly preened, quaint white bundles of down that were their young, and ungainly speckled fledglings waiting to be taught the mysteries of flight. The air was. astir with the movement of this multitude, their harsh voices and the whistle, of the pinions of the hundreds circling overhead. Six sun-scorched miles we tramped along the shore, between the cliffs and the sea. Now we slithered over slippery boulders of white clajb fallen from the heights above. Now we trudged through yielding quicksands, into which at every step we sank to the ankles. Now, for the tide was rising, we waded knee-deep among the little breakers, round promontories and jutting rocks. We were panting when we flung ourselves down to rest on the hillcrest, after the last short, steep ascent from the beach. Cape Kidnappers the Popular. We were by no means the only pilgrims to hike that way that day. There were at least a hundred tourists and trippers and holiday-makers from Napier and Hastings and even further afield. They puffed up the steep slope, gazed on the brooding gannets no whit Jess blankly, for the most part, thau the birds stared back; then, well, content, back they went down the hill to picnic on the sands below. They had Been what they came to see, the one place in the world where gannets nest on the mainland. Cape Kidnappers meant nothing more to them than that. But one, a lissom, golden-headed girl in coloured slacks, whom I had deemed more concerned with the careless pleasures of youth than with such dreams, turned to me as we sat right, in among the nesting birds, and said, “How lonely and small the Endeavour must have'looked, sailing away down there!’ And she pointed to where, dwarfed by the immensity of sea and shore, . a little coastal steamer was crawling by, under those two enormous white rocks that stand sentinel beyond the extremity of the Cape. A Drama of Yesteryear. “To me,” she said, “it has always seemed particularly real and dramatic, that incident that prompted Captain Cook to give the Cape its name. I can imagine just how it happened . ■ • The fishing canoes moored in the shoal water, the great, strange ship, standing out of the bay under a press of white canvas, the war-party camped on the shore, staring in astonished speculation, that immortal Sunday morning of October, 1769. “When he saw the fishermen, the blue-coated captain called to the helmsman to turn the ship into the wind. The boatswain’s whistle shrilled as the pig-tailed sailors ran to brace the yards aback and heave the vessel to. Then Tupia, the tall, handsome Pacific Islander, sprang into the rigging, and waved, and in his own dialect, called the fishermen to approach. The canoes ranged alongside. They had only a few bad fisli they were carrying for bait, but the Captain ordered Tupia to say he would buy them, for the sake of winning the friendship of the Maoris. So little Taieto, Tupia’s boy, swarmed down the ship’s side to pass the fish up to the men on deck. In return, scarlet baize cloth was handed down to the natives in the canoes, eliciting cries of delight and astonishment. Such Men are Dangerous. “Then the lean war canoe was seen off the point, her 22 armed paddlers dipping their blades together to a measured chant. As she drove in alongside, and the tattooed warriors in the bow leaped to their feet to make fast to the ship, Captain Cook turned to the lieutenant of marines, who stood at his elbow on the crowded deck. ‘Stand ready with those muskets!’ he ordered, ‘These fellows have a troublesome air!’

“The newcomers had nothing to trade, but in order to please them Cook tossed them down some pieces of gay cloth. ‘Look at that great lubber amidships; he seems to be wearing a cloak of bear-skin,’ exclaimed Sir Joseph Banks. ‘I shall .see if I can buy it off him,’ said Cook. Perceiving that their eyes were on his cloak, which was actually of kiwi-feathers, the man in question took it off, and, holding it up, pointed eagerly to the roll of red cloth one of the Endeavour’s officers was holding. ‘Cut him a fathom piece,’ suggested Cook. This was done, but when the Captain indicated that the man should pass up his cloak, he seemed reluctant, holding it well out of young Taieto’s reach. ‘At this rate we shall effect no trade,’ said the Captain. ‘Let him have the baize.’ But at this the Maori rolled it up with the cloak, and stowed both under the thwart of the canoe. Cook’s indignant remonstrances he greeted with scornful laughter. At the same time the paddlers struck their blades into the water, and drew off before there could b e any reprisals. A Treacherous Coup. “So the great sails were let draw again, and the Endeavour began to swing away, and gather motion. At this, the canoes, paddling vigorously, came alongside again, the fishermen holding up some of their worthless stock to indicate that they still desired to trade. So again Taieto climbed out over the ship’s side, and began to hand up the pieces of stinking fish to the seamen leaning over the bulwarks. While he was so occupied, the long, carved war-canoe, with its tattooed braves, drove once more among the press of dugouts clinging to the Endeavour’s side.

What followed was completely unexpected by those on board the barque. A huge, muscular savage sprang to his feet. Seizing Taieto round the waist, he dragged him down into the canoe. Disregarding the boy’s screams, two of the natives pinned him down in the tow. The rest turned the long craft

and sent her spinning shoreward, Tupia, with a great cry, snatched a musket and fired at those in the stern of the canoe. The marines followed suit, but, for fear of hurting the boy, aimed wide. “But, at the second volley, as the canoe was already drawing out of range, a man in her stern dropped, and the others, letting the boy go, turned in amazement to see what ailed him, for they had not learned that death could be dealt from afar. And little Taieto, seeing his chance, with one bound, leaped out of the canoe into the waves, and struck out for the ship, which, appallingly slowly, it seemed, turned into the wind to meet him. Captain Cook to the Rescue. “The fishing canoes, some way off, were still heading shoreward as fast as paddles could drive. But the long war-boat was brought about, not without delay, and resumed the chase after the boy, who was now a hundred yards away. As they came within range of the muskets, a hail of balls whistled about them, splashing up the. water, but the warriors cared nothing for that. 'Lay the long gun!' shouted Cook, and the great cannon, which was constantly loaded, was dragged laboriously to a port, shackled, and trained. The gunner applied his match to the priming. Hollowed a great report, a cloud of choking w’hite smoke. Looking overside, the anxious watchers saw the waves between canoe and boy torn up by the passage of the ball. “It was enough. At this new' manifestation of what seemed to them supernatural phenomena, the Maoris checked - their pursuit, and, after a hurried consultation, drew’ off toward the beach. The Endeavour, her bluff bows smashing through the chop, breasted the swell toward the still frantically swimming lad. A boat was lowered, and Taieto was brought on board. Because he was a general favourite, young Taieto was made much of, but for some hours he remained so terrified that lie seemed to have lost his senses. And, indeed, not without cause, for, as was realised later, he had been rescued by a very narrow’ margin from the grim fate of filling a cannibal oven.

“Through their telescopes, as the longboat was hoisted aboard again, the gentlemen of Cook’s company saw the Maoris beach the war-boat, and carry three of their number up the beach. But the Endeavour stood onward down the coast all day. As dusk fell, those on deck saw the small figure of the little brown Polynesian boy climb into the shrouds, and, crying an invocation in his own tongue, east something out into the dark waters. Thus Taieto gave thanks to his strange island gods, the gods of Polynesia, who had .so miraculously kept him from harm. “So now,” continued the fair girl, “now’ you know’ why Captain Cook called this Cape Kidnappers. Every week in summer hundreds of folk come here to see the gannets, and go away knowing nothing of the story of the Cape. To me. it always seems a shame; they miss something well worth while.”

“Something far more interesting even than the gannets,” I answered. But before I could thank her for her story, I started violently, as a dagger b°ak stabbed my ankle. I hurriedly shifted out of distance, while the big, handsome seabird regarded me with a smug expression in its pale eyes, as if to say, “Why talk of Captain Cook? He is dead and gone these 150 years, but we are real and of to-dav . . .”

(Next Wednesday: The Faith of Pai Mar ire.)