SKETCHER.

New Zealand Mail, 21 July 1892, Page 10

SKETCHER.

AS OTHERS SEE US.

M. KOWALSKI’S TRIP THROUGH NEW ZEALAND.

We have received a copy of a French weekly journal published in Sydney, and entitled ‘Le Courrier Australien.’ To this publication M. Kowalski is contributing an account of his recent trip through New Zealand. Below will be found a feee trans lation of the distinguished musician’s account of a trip to the Thames. The company arrived in Auckland, but, finding that Mr 11. M. Stanley was lecturing there, they decided to play a season at the Thames. Here we shall let M. Kowalski tell his own story : ‘ What !’ said I, aside, ‘ Stanley, the man who discovered Livingstone, in Auckland !’ This unexpected opposition might spoil our receipts, a grave question which anyone who has to be responsible for the salaries at the end of the week, will easily understand. I communicate my anxiety to our Barnum, Mr W. H. Poole, Mv tragic air and abrupt words do not, lioaw_ ever, seem to affect that gentlemen. Plis coolness irritates me, but his laugh exasperates me, when after a few seconds he cries, almost doubled up with laughter, ‘ Well done 1 R. S. Smvthe Esq is a clever fellow, and all’s fair in war. . . .’ Besides, he adds, by way’fcf consolation, a speaker is opposing us ajiwe sing; we are the stronger.’ ‘ Well, what do ?’ ‘ This is going to do, We will go awa^fjj^^BPrhames.’ ‘ The here’s that ?’ ‘ The Thames is about 40 ,rtivles from here, up the river, a gold miffing town, with a population very fond of anything artistic.’ I cannot Kelp adoring the coolness of our impressario, who, in face of such grave circumstance, shows such extraordinary forbearance. Besides his forbearance Mr Poole possesses a fine bass voice, and a most prodigious memory. He is often stopped in the street by gentlemen who enter into conversation with him in the following style, which I write down in English so as not to lose its originality : How are you, old Dad? Very well, and you, my boy ! Do you remember me . . . Robinson ! Cambridge, B.A. 1865. . . ‘What Robinson ?’ says Mr W. H. Poole, J. P. . . . P. P. . • • or M. E. W. '. . Not one of those, but T. G. C. Robinson, junior, now M.D.E.E. Oh ! perfectly well, ejaculates Mr Poole, you . . . wait ... a bff . . , of course T. G. C. • . • the Foot-ball Champion . . . have you recovered of that wound to your foot which occurred in the contest with the Lancashire Learn. . . . When Mils D. . . . lamenting on your sad accident, amidst h r tears was saying .—Oh ! poor fellow ! what a misfortune . . . one of my best waltz ing partners ;

The explanation of all these reminiscences is that Mr Poole was for 32 years a singer in the Cambridge University Chapel and that all the students who succeeded each other during that period are well acquainted with his face. ‘ How are you old Had “?’ lam particular in relating this peculiarity, so very English, which we are to meet with throughout the whole of our tour through New Zealand.

The next day, off we go to the Thames, the gold mining town, for mines there are there, and after a voyage of three hours, following the shores of the bay, and with

views of the coast which surpass anything I have seen up to the present, we disembark. Seen from the steamer, the town appears important, for it is built on a tongue of land which stretches out between the mountains and the bay, but as it cannot extend in width, one might say that that the Thames is only one enormous street, -which presents a double line of houses, as irregular in their architecture as in their affectation. The houses appear gloomy, the shops are all closed, and, except a policeman, whom I took at first for a pillar post box, so much did he appear to be frozen into calm, nothing was stirring. The dogs went up and down the deserted street without a bark, with melancholy faces. We shudder at the very thought that per-rajs an epidemic of small-pox had broken out —a chance visit of an affected ship—or the influenza —or it may be the financial crash oi a bank — may be the cause of this extraordinary quietness. Happily, ‘ there is nothing in it, it’s all right, ’ says the ‘ Boss ’ of our hotel, as he informs us all the town, his own family excepted, has gone to a monster picnic—3000 people—in the ‘ Bush ’ some twenty miles away. 4 When will they come back ?’ we asked with a unanimity which it would be pleasant to have to record of certain musical societies.

4 To-morrow . . . if it’s raining—in a few days, if the weather is fine 1’ This is charming 1 A deserted town, mines without miners ; the best thing to do is to imitate the 4 ex eursionists,’ and as we hear some talk of I a Maori encampment not far from the Thames, we decide upon going there. j From the top of the 4 Mail Coach,’ where I have perched myself, I lost no detail of the road ; it is astonishing ; at one moment it seems as if I were at La Corniehe near Mentone, on the Bordighera. Ah, if I only were there! We arrive at the encampment. 1 Around a building constructed of wood, and which affects the appearance of a temple, at least so it would appear by its \ facade composed of rudely sculptured f work, are ranged huts of a primitive style, • of which the walls and roofs are made of boughs covered over with pieces of bark. Each family is stowed away in the long apartment which comprises the whole of > the house, and which has for its only 1 light the meagre rays which gleam , through the holes in the badly jointed walls.

In the midst of the clouds of smoke ; coming from the fire on which at this ; moment a few 4 schnappers ’ are being grilled, one can perceive the absence of beds and even of chairs. It is exactly the traoMional camp, and although the occupants are nearly covered : by their clothes, which have long lost their original colour, they do not confirm in me the vain hope which I had cherished of meeting during this visit a new specimen of the human race, different from the I native types which I have been able to see in my travels round the world. The good old traditions are disappear- i ing and tli6 day is near at hand when the last man still possessing savage instincts will become impossible to find. Where is i the Maori of other days, covered with deer skins (nonsense, Kowalski apparently thinks the old New Zealanders had deer to kill), and who was quite satisfied that on other points his tattooing protected him against any indiscreet glance. The old style Maori has been put on one side by the baton of the policeman, and the native now wears trousers —always much too long. And the ancient Maori Chief, whose face with its wavy lines, could not conceal from the eyes of an observer the terrible expression of a man only living in the hope of fomenting some new revolt against the oppressor. He is dead, but his eldest son is now a member of parlia? ment ! There you have a result which does honour to the English, who remain practical while becoming conquerors, and know how to respect the natural rights of the first occupants of the country by wisely giving them the means of protecting their lands, and by their importations assuring to them the vast advantages of a cheap ready-made suit!’

A good number of Maoris are rich landed ; proprietors and live in relative luxury • They dwell in comfortable houses, with stables and coach houses, if you please and their daughters can be served by white servants. The English colonists, stubborn workers, and aided in their by Government capital, have transformed a large portion of the country and given a value to that which had none before, t Forty years ago, a hectare (two acres) of good land was only worth £1 ; to-day it is - worth in the neighbourhood of the towns • from T 320 to T4OO (Where, oh where does land fetch such a price, Monsieur Kowalski ?— The Translator.) The English have done more than simply enriching the Maories ; they submit, with complaining, to neighbours w 7 ho; often, through their idleness or ence, allow their lands to remain overrun; with fern and gorse, with briars, and with thistles. This last parasite is one of the most dangerous pests in an agricultural) country, as it spreads rapidly over neighbouring properties, has a most disastrous effect upon the improvements made by the expenditure of so mjich, labour and time. . The French law has made provision fori such a case by imposing a heavy fin«f

upon those who by negligence, menaces the property of others. The gin and whisky packages harmonise in a touching manner with those containing tracts on the benefits which result from temperance. XJp to the present I believe that the Maories have shown themselves more inclined to intoxicate themselves with realities rather than with hopes, and they pay dearly for their immoderate liking for destructive alcohol. In 1800 100,000 Maories could bo counted in New Zealand. In this year of grace, 1892, there are no more than 40,000. Their ancestors lived on fruits, independence, and drunk water pure from the glaciers. The Maoris’of to-day are dying of roast mutton, of rules and regulations and of alcohol. In 1800, the Maori was handsome, vigorous arid sober. In 1892, the Maori is emaciated, dried up, starved. (The Thames natives must be a poor lot. — Translator). It goes without saj ing that the - are numerous exceptions to this rule, md I know that this race still contains rr my of robust constitutions and possess .ig far more than mediocre intelligen ie, but statistics are as precise as a death warrant in declaring the great diminution in number, How many Maoris will there be alive in 1995 ? The Government and the various religious sects, the one by its schools, the others by their exhortations, have tried to infuse the most moral precepts into these somewhat stubborn minds. Has this experience been a success ? The following anecdote inclines one to doubt whether it has. It is Mr Geo. Augustus Sala who tells the story : —An English Colonel, after a battle, rescues a young Maori girl, and sends the orphan to England to receive her education in a firstclass London boarding school. After several years the young ‘ savage,’ now become one of the most ‘ select ’ of young ladies, returned to New Zealand, and her charming grace of manner makes her a society idol. The colonel marries her and everything proceeds just as he wishes, until one day, suddenly, his wife disappears from the conjugal domicile. After many researches he ends by discovering the fugitive, where do you think ? In a camp of her tribe, attired in the national costume, seated in the Eastern style, in the middle of a group of Maoris of both sexes, smoking a pipe and taking a.lively share in a conversation carried on in the idiom of her forefathers. It seems astonishing that one can meet any poor Maoris, they who were the first owners of New Zealand, and who had the liberty of taking their pick of the richest of mines, of gold, silver, copper and manganese. The races who took their place showed a more enlightened liking for these * nuggets,’ these auriferous stones, to possess which is to be wealthy. Considering the question from a philosophical point of view we may ask selves what is the amount of happiness the discovery of these minerals has been able to bring to the human race. A Maori, Hoteriai Taiparu, whose farms occupied the ground on which the Thames is built to day, sold out his rights for a trivial surq to Robert Graham, who gave his name to the place. A. large number of gold mines were afterwar Is discovered, among them being the Caledonian, which surpasses all the others in its wealth.

During the first years of the working of the Caledonian, its output passed the limits of the extraordinary. It appears almost fantastic to have to record that during the first twelve months more than 10 tons of solid gold were extracted. The shareholders had to divide amongst themselves 15 millions of dividend (?). From day to day fortunes wei-e created, and the fever of speculation having intoxi cated nearly everybody, one might say that all work was suspended throughout the North Island. The country districts were deserted ; the town of Auckland, transformed into one vast Mining Exchange, saw its streets filled with a population composed of people running to and fro, gesticulating and disputing the conquest of these little bits of paper of which the value kept on mounting up with a giddy rapidity. The Caledonian is still worked, but the ancient Pactolus now only offers the most modest profits; the lodes searched day by day, which don’t now respond as generously as they once did to the attack. Nevertheless, it is a fine thing to set down in print that within 28 years the total amount of gold extracted from the earth in the mining region of the Thames has been no less than 140 millions in value. (To be continued.)