KIDNAPPED.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume XLIII, Issue XLIII, 20 September 1909, Page 1

KIDNAPPED.

A KING COUNTRY STORY. r A correspondent at Russell Bupjiiios 8 the Auckland "Kerala" with the - following interesting story: — ; Resio> i.:g a;iio-ij>st .Maoris in the most mac csiiiblc ]">art of the King Country, ) which lies about the source of the Mo" 1 .'cau river, is a white woman whose • tongue lias never yet mastered the | iibilant grotesqueness of her mother's . ' speech, but conveys her meaning, I with exquisite softness, through the I language of her brown-skinned foster 1 kindred. How this has come about . was related to me recently, and since 1 the story is true, I have avoided men--1 I ion ing names as far as posiblc. '■ About 25 years ago a settler was • engaged in the usual round of bush work on his section, which abutted on • the railway between New Plymouth and Hawera. Labour was scarce, , and he was anxious to fence off .1 por- •:..:! of !:owly-!>;irut bush. AltboiU?' ■ !io was married his family was still 1 young, and he gladly availed himself of the help offered by a Maori named ' Nguku, who had recently arrived > from tho King Country. A bargain : was struck, and in due course posts were split out and carried into posi- [ tion, when Ngiiku received news i which necessitated his return to the King Country without delay. This 1 caused a heated dispute between the settler and Nguku, the latter claiming •payment for work done, the former refusing to pay until the contract was completed. The settler remained firm, and, with the characteristic stubborness of his race, Nguku leparted, vehemently declaring that he had been wronged, and would obain vengeance. How this vengeance was obtained ippeared next day at lunch time, when little Mary, a rosy-cheeked, 'irown-haired toddler, could not be found, and her brother "Will}-, into whose keeping she had been entrusted, said that Nguku had eaii.e along on his horse while they wer.j playing on the road and taken Mary for a due. The settler guessed at once ■•hat had happened, ant] got on his lorsc in pursuit. Whether they pass>rl each other on a by-road or Ngukn had too much start was never known. Little Mary and her kidnapper db appeared completely. The settler's wife, overcome with grief, died within 12 months of thip sad event. As the years went by and the family grew up, the boys began to go ■way from tho homestead to various employments. Willy, by this timo a young man of 20, was on the survey, and, still mindful of his childish mistake in letting Mary go for a ride, always made a point of visiting any kianga near whero they were working. One evening while they ■xchanging yarns over the camp fire, : surveyor from a neighbouring camp japjiened to mention that he had seen i white girl living with the Maoris in the upper waters of the Mokau. Will; * of course made all the inquiries lie jould, and finally, after relating h's ■itory to the surveyor, who was knowi: s Bob. persuaded him to mako au jxpedition up the Mokau during t'ue ;cxt Christmas holidays, and find out f this whito girl was his sister or not. The old settler was getting fcebie, md a threat desire eamo upon him to see his daughter again. He "was most anxious to tako part in tho expedition; >but this was out of tbe question, considering nis feeble state, ie had to content himself, therefore, n writing to Willy and telling him hat he would know his sister by a car underneath her chin where she :ad been burned by falling on the itovc. A surveyor, after several years of work in tho bush, develops a wonderful instinct for locality. Thus it was that these two struck across counry, up riverbeds, and along spurs, ■'iading here and there, but always aakisig for a trig station, which was i day's journey from the kainga they were in search of. Presently, if tor three nights in the bush, they :ame out upon open fern country, and .bout mid-day strolled into the kain;a and sat down for a smoke in the narae (open space). Natives came ound with the usual greetings and juestions, but beneath the cheerful ?alk there lurked a feeling of hostility. Try as they would, neither sVilly nor Bob could get any informaion about a white woman in the :aing.i, nntil tho door of a whare per.cv, and a white girl, about 17, ■ar.ic out, talking to an old native •,'oman in Maori. She did not notice the two men at first, but the old wonan •was heard to mutter, "Lo, Strangers! Let us return." Then, as ;he giri lifted her head to look, Bob noticed a read mark on her white ;hroat. He had just time to exclaim, : 'By G— , that's her," when the old woman dragged her back into the whare and shut the door. ■After this, -this most unexpected thing happened. Willy rofusod to believe it was his sister. He had not -een the sear, and said she was pot ike any of the family. Anyhow, as she Maoris ■ rofiiFefl to !cr the:n stop the night in the kainga, Wiliy proposed that they should return. Bob was furious to see his mate "turn cocktail" just when they seemed to have found the girl. Before anyone could interfere, he dashed up to the" whare and 'broke through the door. Speaking in English, he asked the girl to come away to her father with him; She looked at him in open-eyed wonaer, without a sign of having understood what he had said. . He tried in Maori, and the girl laughed, replying, "You talk foolishly; my father ' 3 dead. I "was born here; this is my mother." Then strong hands pulled him out of the whare and handled him roughly. I have often -wondered if that woman has ever discovered tho true story of her early life.