WHERE THE WHITE MAN TREADS.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIX, Issue 14925, 24 February 1912, Page 1 (Supplement)

WHERE THE WHITE MAN TREADS.

BY W.B.

EVEN SUCH AS THESE!

"That in' even, savage bosoms there are yearnings, strivings, for the good they comprehend not . . ." That the poet of Hiawatha here struck a note of true vibrations we, who also knew a " savage,"' can bear witness to. it is possible that the intent of my quotation aims at a higher ideal. To mo they are identical ; which Hartman sums up in the dictum: "An unconscious instinct to excel." And in a yet clearer sense: '' The constant effort of Nature to select the fittest for the preservation of her children, which we observe to pervade creation, from the garden weed to Man."

If there was a creature, next to a coward or. thieving slave, the Maori despised, it was tho blasphemous, rum-soaked outcast known as the beachcomber. On the other hand, the white man ho loved best was the gruff, hearty captain of tho South' Sea whaling fleets, to whom he could sell his pigs and potatoes in exchange for the many new introductions which constituted that- day's trade. Rum also; but the thirst for that came later, for in the beginning whale captains, especially American, knowing tho fate of their red man, doubted the wisdom •of inoculating a friendly community, barbar though it be. Besides, between these two, notwithstanding the murderous revenge taken upon the innocent by the shipping of all flags at Whangaroa, in atonement for the Boyd afair, a mutual approbation had grown, which that atrocity could not obliterate. It was tho emancipated convict from New South Wales and Hobart, when ho took to trading with the Maori, who scattered pestilences, the stench of which remains todar.

Almost coterminous with these came the stray homestead seeker, who, when he dealt justly with his brown overlord, also received hearty welcome. For every white man added to the brown chief's mana, so much so that hill-green envy seared tho soul of the pakehaless chief; and high jubilation from the fortunate, cried: "My pakeha! I am content. I will attach him to me by many ties. Let him live with his white wife and children on the plot he bought of me; he is within reach and call, that I may. beg of him." For in that day the brown man's prestige lay in his "multitudes. The few white men here and there were like the stray silver hairs of middle age on the head of the matron. What did he know of the white man's oversea numbers or resources? nor. tell what manner of child lay in the womb of the coming years? For these reasons, the honest stranger was as safe in those days as in these. When you read in histories how this or that pakeha was annoyed, plundered, maybe murdered, be sure that pakeha caused an affront which the Maori avenged according to hi* own ethics. The homesteaders overlord might come to beg at a time of inconvenience; stili, if only a tithe.of what was asked for, and a candid visual inspection of impotence tendered, such avowal sent the suppliant, home contented. For between them lay faith and justice: and peace with hands outspread dispensed her benisons.

And the just, white man gave a return friendship freely. When the chiefs wife ailed, or hip child moaned in summer fever, or a slavo hurried in with a message of village tribulations, tho white woman- put on her husband's hobnails and least valuable gown, and filling her handbag with home-made unguents and simples, and storing her heart with a charity for the folk the God of her fathers, their Creator, saw fit to tint brown, trudged with cheerful valour over hill and vale, by narrow native paths where clematis and conoloolii and tii exuded their incense, and delicate creeper tendrils brushed her cheeks, piloted some paces in advance by the slave messenger, who, where tutu sprays impeded, respectfully bent them asido till she passed. And upon arrival at the village whare whence lament issued unashamedly entered and simpled and mothered and gave shrewd advice. And there was peace wherever white met brown, for each had gauged the souls of the other, and found it true. Goodwill was extended to the white mail's children; rascals, petted by horribly tattooed warriors and fed on the best morsels from the haangi; and pickapacked and indulged in every impudence by worshipping toothless mothers of fighting men; brats who knew the language to such perfection that exchange of wit and pungent repartee with their brown play-tots came prompt and incisive. Goodwill, in short, to all their pakeha's relations: "E pa ma! Ko to tungane a Alaata; tomo roai." (Lo! It is the brother of Martha; pray enter.) And Martha's brother entered as one privileged, as one of the clan. Nay. he might ogle and chuck the maiden's chins unrebuked; was he not the brother of tho Martha of their need-time? Such were the tones and tints of thnt day, the day before the riving in twain of goodwill,* of friendship, of faith; and both wept because the riven would be joined nevermore.

Mac,' Martha's brother, was-an upset young man of herculean instincts and strength. Between him and Bangihaeata, Te Kauparaha's nephew and son-in-law, and the paramount chief of that district, a mutual esteem had grown up, and petty liberties were frequent. One day these two met an unlicensed bush dramshop, of which many were extant in any district of moderate population. After salutation and replenishing of tankards turn about, filling the intervals with smoke, and because neither understood or loved talk befitting folk with small brains, both sat in silence, one in his fine chieftain's mat on a stool, the other penduling his shanks with an undninken glass beside-him on the table.

Now Mac, from ancient Pict inheritance, could libate and still feel no unusual inspiration. Not so Haeata (for short), who, as the fumes meandered his brain, saw visions, visions of dignities and prestiges, and prompted by expanding'memories of how his ancestors disdained to ask for, but took what they desired, reached for Mac's glass, and with a smack of relish placed it back empty. Mac nodded an urbano approval, and merely calling the shebeener to refill it, penduled his shanks and smoked. Presently Haeata saw further visions, and crooned a war-chant, a chant designed to exasperate, and sticking out his tongue as one who defies an enemy, drew his hatchet from its belt and made vicious passes in the air, and in manner, mien and words grew increasingly offensive. Still Mac smoked on, silent but unobtrusively watchful. Even when Haeata tonic Tip the refilled glass a second time Mac allowed him, but just as ho got it fairly to his mouth, and leered at Mac over'its rim, as who should say "Bleachlivcred coward!" Mac inhaled bis breath, and with a mammoth blow of his fist hit the bottom of the glass, whence it fell in myriad tinkles on the floor! ■ By a, miraculous intervention the smashed glass no more than slightly cut Haeata's mouth. But the insult! According to that day's courtesies Haeata should have sunk his hatchet in Mac's skull. Mac knew this, for leaping across the table, he wrenched the leg off a tripod slabstool — the fashion in chairs at that time—and stood on his defence. But instead of the rush he expected, he saw Haeata sweep the glass-shards to the tire, take off- his chieftain robe, unstrap his loin mat and wrap his hatchet in it; stride baresark

from door to door and lock it, push tAbU and stools aside, and marching to a window into which a crowd of his people peered, cry:—"Kaua he tangata to tomo mai!" (Let no one enter here); and turning to Mac, say:—"Kukea to rakau; he tangata, he tangata!" (Ca,st away your weapon ; let it be man to man). And roaring "Kohiria!" (charge) pounce like a bulldog on his enemy. Mac stood prepared, but the clenched fist held ready in defence, when shot out, skidded away over his adversary's shoulder, and' Mac, meeting no resistance to his blow, was rushed off his feet, and both fell m a tangle with Haeata on top clutching Mac's head, working his thumbs to the eye sockets. Woe to Mac had they got there! But the brown man had to do with no weakling, for with a superhuman, unexpected contraction of his spine he pitched his bestrider to rearward of his head and leapt to his feet, making the first round honours even. Then Mac's blood, descended from " Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled," surged through his body like a river in spate and yelling "Takethat !" reached a smashing stinger on Haeata'soheek! Now Haeata knew as much of the noble art as Mac did—and less— of taiaha, quarterstaff, consequently Haeata Sought, the floor. By this time the clink of breaking glass told that the natives, unable to be out of the glorious melee within, were forcing an entry by tho window. .When Haeata rose and noted the incur»lo .hp bellowed hoarsely at Mac: "Kaia!" (Wait); and picking up a. stool, flung it crashing among the bunch of faces at tho window: — "Ngarara, e hoki! naku tenei parekura!" (Back, vermin! This is my batlefleld!) Then thinking he saw an opening, rushed at Mac with the Maori wrestling trick .called whakawiri (clutch, side wrench, and heel hook all at once). But ho might have tried to uproot a pukatea! Rangihaeata was not only a great chief by birth and connection with Te Kauparaha, he had distinguished himself on several hard-contested fields. No wonder this Scots young man felt a rising respect for an adversary he could neither snake: off nor throw. Several times he fancied a slight yielding, only to ieam it to be a deliberate feint to take him off his guard, and that nothing remained but to vanquish his opponent, by exhaustion, iouth pitted against middle ace! So he merely tightened his tendons, till by wellearned quarter inches ho gradually enclosed the now stertorous warrior with his arms and legs, and by a final majestic simultaneous contraction of every tendon lifted Ins man and bashed him on th« floor! And so the battle ended! Still, Mac, not knowing that any finer sport upon earth than the Maori entered any contest, stood watchful for developments. «ut Haeata, regarding Mac as he were not present, moved back table and benches into place, unlocked the doors, rerobed himself, ■> stuck the hatchet in its belt, and holding- out an empty ass to Mac. said:—"la koe to mataika; homai ano!" (You are the victor; fill this up again), and resumed his friendly attitude. When spoken to in after vcars about this episode and why he surrendered so yieldingly, Rangihaeata answered:—"Mac was "J »«o ri ght. l reached for what was his. If he choso to strike his glass, who was to question him? It was at my mouth when the desire to strike it came. Enough ! Ho did not strike me, he struck his glass! Had I judged this sooner we had not fought at all.'' • >

As a boy I spent much time .-among our adjacent tribes. On the seacliffs of our home my herd of goats found a convenient habitat, which the natives did not interfere with. To play at petty dairying I milked the mother goats. Goats, like sheep, travel against the wind. That is why, during some blusterous weather, my goats wandered toward, a windward[Maori pa, where the- graceless son of a line old chief lured thorn to. a cave and hid y them there. When at last I found them the thief was feeding them over a barricade of stone* ho had built across the month. Ho was too big and strong to argue with, and as he refused to give them up I went to his.father with my plaint. "Is what you tell me true, 0 son?" "It's true, O Paebaka; I* have just come from striving with him.'' Then, 0 son. lead me to this sinful child of mine." He was placing more stones on the barricade when we arrived, and, seeing us, stood defiantly at bay. " What arc you hemming in "that stonework, my -ion?" "Pigs, 0 father. Young pigs caught in the wilds. Do not venture near, it harries them.*' The father turned to me severely: " Who tells the truth?" Suddenly "Ba-a-a!" issued from the stonework. Upon this prompt response the shaver would have fled, but his father's paw was in his hair. "Stop! Strange pigs these be, O relation of swine Shall the chief dwell with his tribe ashamed? Answer, misbegotten Speak!" At every pause and question he gave the ( hair a wrench with one hand and an earcuff with the other, till I pitied my onetime playmate and begged for bis release. " Not until he satisfies atonement to me. How can I seek credit at the white man trader's store? Will he not say: 'The tree is rotten; sec the fruit?' I am the sufferer, not you or he!" And with a final wrench he flung him at the barricade : "Release the goats, 0 relative of swine." • , * ■.-•'. ♦ Each of these incidents is pregnant with an illustration; each confirms the poet's musing:—"That in even savage bosoms there are yearnings, drivings, for the good they comprehend not."