The TE KOOTI TRAIL

Otago Witness, Issue 3833, 30 August 1927, Page 62

The TE KOOTI TRAIL

C A

By

Frank H. Bodle.

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SYNOPSIS. CHAPTERS I AND 11.-The scone is the great Roman Wall at Northumberland in 1858. After the Rev. Horace Winslow has finished telling the story of the Lost Legion (the Roman army that never returned) to his daughter Alice and Geoffrey and Eric Mantell, Eric, who is a very junior officer of a - hussar regiment, asks Alice to walk with him through the gateway in the Wall, where the Lost Legion had gone. She goes, thus proving her love for Eric, and making Geoffrey, Eric's senior by one year, but his twin in appearance vow vengeance on his brother. Eric and Alice seem to feel that adventure awaits them, and promise to be true to each other until the happiness, which is to crown all, comes to them. That evening at his home, the Manor, Eric is accused by Heyling, the stock bailiff of the place, of appropriating the eum of £197 from the rent of three tenants. When the money is found in his bag by Geoffrey and Heyling, his father, Sir Raglan Mantell, disowns him, and orders him away for ever Eric, picking up the notes stumbles away CHAPTERS 111 and IV.—Eric, reinforced with Alice's promise to be faithful books a passage to New Zealand, but, falling in with a friendly and lonely Irishman, Barney O'Halloran, be shares his money, and takes him with him. When they arrive in Auckland they meet Jules Vidoux, a French cook, and the three build a hut and live together. They fight in the Waikato campaign, and against the Hauhaus In the Bay of Plenty. ■, CHAPTER V.—When, in the beginning of 18G6, over 300 Hauhau rebels were transported to the Chatham Islands, a Maori, named Te Kooti, was sent away with them under a charge of treachery to the Government. Feeling that his sentence was unjust Te Kooti vowed vengeance on the white men, and at last, by working on the feelings of his fellow-exiles, won for himself a band of followers, and captured a boat in which they returned to New Zealand, landing a little to the south of Poverty Bay. CHAPTER Vl.—On the plain of Whakatane stands tho mill of Jean Guerren, a Fre mechanic, called by the Maoris Hoani te Wiwi. He lives with his Maori wife, Elizabeth (Erihapeti), and her sister Monika, whose lovei is Taranahi. These last two see smoke rising from the hills, but take it as no bad omen.

CHAPTER VII.—Te Root), aided by a half-caste, Baker M'Lean, called Peka Makarini, begins serious fighting against the Government. Eric, Barney, and Jules, who join Colonel Whitmore’s force, help to quell the rebellion. Once more the country is lulled to a false sense of security. CHAPTER Vlll.—Lieutenant Mair comes to tell Eric, Barney, and Jules that they are to go with him to Tauranga, the military headquarters. Taranahi, however, says that Te Kooti is on the trail, so. Mair rides off alone after leaving the three friends halfway at Matata, while Taranahi has orders to report if he hears any more news. CHAPTER IX.—Te Kooti reinforces himself with bands of .hillmen, who hate their on the plains, and marches towards '* hakatane, killing a chief’s daughter as sacrifice on his journey. Taranahi, on his way to Tauranga with the news, has left his brother, Tautari. to hold his place in the defence. Jean, waiting in the mill, speeds l?lJ vhic!l kills the first of the enemy. CHAPTER X.—Taranahi, after almost unsurmountable delays, arrives at Tauranga, where, however, those in charge refuse to send help. Lieutenant Mair, in disgust. rides off alone, followed, a little later, by Taranahi on a borrowed pony. CHAPTER Xl.—Jean, after burying a supply of ammunition against Te Kooti's men capturing the mill, keeps up a lively fire of defence. From his loophole he can see the struggle between the Hauhaus and the Rauparoa pa, of which Taranahi's cousin is in charge.

CHAPTER Xl.—Continued

For a space thereafter Jean and those in the redoubt were busily occupied with their own immediate attack. When the Frenchman had a chance to look again he saw that the Hauhau attackers were driving a shelter sap from behind the insecure cover of the brush hut, which was being swept with bullets from the pa. “ They 11 hold fast till the troops come,” he decided with satisfaction. “ Ha! Thaf is Tautari Pere in the pa, and he looks this way.” The Frenchman thrust his tattered old hat through the open window towards the river, and waved it to and fro in cheery greeting. The signal was seen, and understood, for the greyhaired man in the fort waved back, and broke into the wild gesticulations and excited rhythmic stamp of the haka (war dance).

“ All is well,” Jean said blithely, and slipped below to fire a few shots from the several loopholes on the ground floor. In the redoubt there were two Maori men, Tautari and a half-witted dumb man, and four women—the sisters and two Maori dames. These had five guns in all, and three of them were in constant use, while Peti and Monika loaded the other two, and one of the Maori women carried food for fighters and for guns from the house to the parapets. Slowly the day wore one. There was steady firing across the river, and occasional fierce bursts at Te Poronu. Jean’s accurate, fire and the steady shooting from the redoubt made the enemy’s shallow trench untenable, and they withdrew sullenly to the better cover of the scrub, leaving several of their dead or wounded in the trench. Monika ran across with food for Jean during an afternoon lull, and found the valiant Frenchman as cheerful as ever.

“We hold them, ma petite,” he carolled joyously. “There's not one dares show his head 'to see if his bullet hit the mill, the redoubt, or the sun. And listen. By now, thy Taranahi nears Tauranga, and very soon Mair and his troops will march. Parbleu! But a little while and that Te Kooti shall have a very bad time. We have but to hold them this night, and of a certainty that will not a difficult undertaking, and to-morrow we see them running for their .hills like fowls when the shadow of the hawk falls upon them. It has been a good day, ’Nika; the best I’ve known for many a long year, but, by my faith, I can see that to-morrow will be a far better one.”

“ Are you quite sure that you can hold out, Hoani? The odds are very great.” “ But, yes, cherie. Wait here while I have another shot for luck. A hit, but not in the head, which is the best place of all. But certainment, we can hold out, little doubter. The odds are all upon our side, not theirs. We see them —they cannot see us, nor tell if their bullets make holes iu anything mor than the air. We have cartridges, more than plenty; food and water—and Taranahi brings aid.” He took out his big watch. “At this very moment that long lad of thine tells Mair—and you know that man, cherie. He will start immediately.” Of a sudden the Frcnchr an slapped his side, and burst into a roar of laughter. “ Parbleu I” he crowed, “ I had. forgotten those three lads at Matata—Eric, Barney, and Jules of the battered bucket.. They will be on their way long back. I look for them any time, to-night at the latest. Now run back, little one, while I shoot again.” The sun set in a blaze of brilliant colour behind the inland mountains, and still the fight went on. Rifles flashed from the scrub and from the ro-occupicd trenches at the foot of the hills, and at these flashes Jean and the defenders 2 *-he redoubt fired with such speed that they maintained in the enemy’s minds the delusion as to their numbers. Across the river the trenches of the Israelites broke into fitful gusts of flame, and the stockade of the pa was bright with answering flashes. But it was tiring work, this ceaseless vigil, and many times in the long night Jean looked at his watch, striking matches behind his iron screen. “They are late, hose three soldiers,” he muttered, but without anxiety. “They are our very good friends, and will grow no beards on the journey to our aid. Besides, there is that wild Barney. Not even the Little Corporal would keep him from a place where he knew there was fighting to be found. Now, ’mw is it they tarry.”

There came a wild burst ot sustained shooting from Rauporoa pa, a.d the Frenchman looked across the river and slapped his side with cheerful vigour. “ I have the answer,” he cried exultantly. “They have slipped into the pa in the darkness, and at daylight will lead a party to our relief. Very well, messieurs, we shall have breakfast ready for you when you come, and in the meantime ” he ran to a loophole, and fired three shots in rapid succession. There was no rest for any of the defenders of Te Poronu throughout the night. They had to stand to their arms the whole time to be ready for any sudden rush, and by continuous firing prove to the attackers that they were not to be surprised. Jean had expected a charge long before this, but the skilfully-fostered belief that there was a strong force at the mill daunted the raiders, and they contented themselves with intermittent sniping.

At grey dawn Jean's straining eyes searched the pa across the river, but he could see no trace of the three white men. “ I cannot understand it,” he muttered, weariness creeping into his voice. “ But they must come soon: every minute brings them nearer. He turned to see what was afoot among those who attacked the mill. Three scouts of the raiders were strolling up the slope of the, hills, evidently out on a foraging expedition. Jean was disturbed—those fellows might, from the heights above, observe the weakness of the garrison. Hd tried a long shot, but it fell short, and the scouts, shouting derisively, climbed on without concern. An hour or more later Jean saw them hurry excitedly down the hill, and again tried a longrange shot.

“ They have seen the soldiers coming.” he said hopefully, and called to these in the redoubt to be of good cheer. Again he looked across at Rauporoa, but could see no sign of Eric or his comrades.

It was apparent almost immediately that the Maoris in front of the mill had decided upon a complete change of tac-

tics. The hasty return of the scouts had not been due to a distant glimpse of a relieving force, but to the amazing knowledge, gleaned as they looked down, that the whole defence force contained but six or seven people, most of them women. From a dozen different points at once, fire was opened on the mill, and Jean, busily engaged himself, could hear that those in the redoubt were also firing heavily.

“ This time they mean to rush.” Jean muttered, and called Peti _o load, while he fired. Rapid fire drove back the long brown line of skirmishers, but the wildlyshouting Israelites rallied in the '-over of the scrub, and advanced again and again. Five times at intervals the Hauhaus drove forward in force, and five times they turned and ran from the searching rain of bullets.

Iwo more canoes come, with many men to join the attack,”, Peti warned. Hoani, I think that we are near the end.’’

<< r warm work, Peti,’’ Jean admitted. “ They’re coming again. Slip back to the redoubt, ma mie. If they come on like this I may have to join you there soon. Don’t be foolish now. Run while it is safe to go, and close the gate till I come and bid you open.” A drift of bullets spattered against the inner wall. “Quick, this last shot and I come too.” He dropped down the ladder, and carrying his two guns darted across the plank to the gateway. He swung about and fired at a head that peered around the corner of the mill. “Do not open that gate for me till we have beaten back this rush, he shouted, and stood sn guard outside. “Be of good cheer,” he called to those inside. “ They have seen our friends coming, and this is their last attack. Beat it back, and we are safe. Be strong and fear not.” “ Come inside Hoani,” Peti pleaded. “I open the gate.” Keep it closed girl,” he thundered, and broke into the martial song of his race. To arms! To arms! ”he chanted with joyful abandon. As a wave dashes forward upon a level ocean beach, the long brown line of stormers flung, shrieking around the flanks of the mill. Jean fired, and the tall savage who led the charge fell. Another dropped, and, in face of the fire from the redoubt, the rush staggered, haltingly. Unseen by any in the redoubt, a man had slipped' into the mill stream, and while his friends swayed, irresolute, he crawled down, hugging the bank, till he stood beneath the plank on whose edge Jean stood at bav.

“March on! March on! ” the Frenchman roared, his spirit aflame. He flung his empty gun inside the gateway, and turned to grab the loaded weapon Monika was offering. In a flash the hidden Hauhau had sprung upon the plank, his sharp tomahawk swinging aloft as Jean turned for the shot he was never to fire. Monika screamed a frantic warning, but it was too late to avert the blow, and with the war song of his loved France still rumbling i n his throat, Jean Guerren, gallant soldier, crashed down into the stream. I* or him at least rescue would come too late.

CHAPTER XII.—THE CRUCIFIX. The loss of their brave leader told to them m his broken sons and Monika’s aftrightened scream, was a terrible blow to the small band of defenders. Peti, who had twisted her ankle as she dropped down the ladder of the mill, sent up a heart-broken wail and Tautari, who till tnen had remained steadily at his post firing rapidly, dashed back to the two girls and excitedly begged them to flee, rrom across the river came a wailing cry of anguish and warning. It is my father, bidding us fly to them Tautari said swiftly. “ Come Monika, over the rear wall. It is our last chance of safety.” “ Peti is hurt. I cannot leave her,” Monika answered, wringing her hands. But run thou. Run, Tautari! See they batter in the gate.” lautari and the dumb man had fought bravelj. They had done all they could and further resistance was useless. The gnls would not come and the men hesitated, but Monika, with all her small strength, pushed them, protesting, towards the one wav of escape. The two men jumped the rear parapet, eluded the hurried blows of crouching enemies and fled toward the river and the pa of their people.

Axes and gun-butts, wielded powerfully, had been smashing at the wooden gate and suddenly. th e barrier fell brokenly apart. A tall young chief of inland Taupo, burst through at the head of horde of yelling fanatics, his bright tomahawk raised high above his head as he bounded along in advance of the others Peti, her eyes filled with tears, of a sudden sprang to her feet and hobbled to meet the stranger. Before his blow could fall, she had flunji herself upon the ground and seized the man’s feet in a convulsive grip. Though her heart was torn and bleeding, she was still young and the love of life was all compelling. “ We are but women left.” she cried piteously. “Save us! Save us'” A savage band, hungry for more blood in recompense for those of their comrades who had fallen, swarmed around the two girls. The other women, hiding in the bouse, were found and tomahawked without delay.

“ T e know the word of the prophet.” on e of the savages shrieked. * Slay and spare not’, is his order.” A score of axes were upraised, among them that of Te Rangihiroa. the young Chief whose feet Peti still clasped.

Monika wore around her neck, a silver crucifix, gift from the good Father, who occasionally visited Te Poronu. Tn this dread moment, she snatched it off. holding it aloft, so that it glittered in the sunshine. The act arrested the savage blows in mid-air. The superstitous Israel-

ites with one accord, drew back a pace, deferring their deed of blood, till they Sa '?< "hat should happen. “ It is the sign of the Atua,” one oi them muttered uneasily and axes were lowered.

Monika held the cross aloft, her head upturned, her eyes looking into the deeps of Heaven. “ O Christ, who suffered, save us, she pleaded, brokenly, tears of anguish racing down her cheeks. “ O have pity on our helplessness, who have done no sin save defend ourselves. By Thy Holy Cross, I plead that Thou will save our lives.”

A flat-faced, savage fellow—his weapon was dripping with the blood of one of th e slain women—pushed roughly through the circle and swung his tomahawk strike. “ Enough of this folly,” he cried ferociously. “ We are bidden to slay all thes e unbelievers who join with the thrice-cursed whites.”

But Te Rangihiroa, once pupil of a Catholic Mission school in Hawke’s Bay, had been stirred by the girl’s pitiful appeal and by the flame, that to his superstitious fancy, seemed to leap from the upheld crucifix. He shook himself clear of weeping Peti and with his own axe sharply struck aside the descending blow.

Leave them to me,” he growled, menacingly. “ I was th e first to enter this pa and these are my spoil. Does any man challenge my right.” By long-sanctioned, ancient custom, ho had the choice of plunder and his bearing was so savagely defiant that the others, muttering angrily, shrank back from him.

‘‘H ' S le Poet's order that we hill.” one man sullenly. “ Then I answer to Te Kooti', not to you, ’ Te Rangihiroa challenged, stepping forward boldly. “ Go, seek your loot. I have made my choice.”

He turned to the two girls and spoke less harshly. “ I will try to save you both if it is possible,” he said, raising tho weeping Peti to her feet. Monika, the silver cross once more about her neck, flung her arms about her widowed sister and held her close.

“ Weep not- so bitterly my sister,” she crooned, as one talking to a child. “ He was a good man. a brave man and he died bravely, as he would have chosen. Remembering the great fight he made, be thou, too brave, as he would wish.” But every minute the sense of her loss came home more poignantly to Peti. The savages had ransacked the mill, then lit fires to burn it down. The flames leapt up and the raiders returned to search the redoubt more thoroughly. Every beam in the mill spoke of Jean and the dead past, and in the heat of those destroying flames, all Peti’s resolution wilted and she would not be comforted. The raiders were in savage humour. They had come to Te Poronu for the special purpose of securing the store of ammunition, known to be held there. They had lost a number of lives in capturing the place, and now, though they had searched everywhere, they found scarcely any cartridges. Again the crowd of angry, baffled men. gathered round Te Rangihiroa and his two captives. “ That is his wife,” the flat-faced shouted. “ She will know where the powder is hidden.” He turned mockingly on Te Rangihiroa. “ Yon have claimed her as vour prize. Make her tell where Hoani the Frenchman hid his bullets.” “ I do not know,” Peti answered dully. With lack-lustre eyes, she stared at the flames devouring the mill that Jean had loved and had fought so bravely to save. The flat-faced man sprang forward, gripped the woman’s shoulder and shook her viciously. “ Where is that powder bidden?” he demanded savagely. “Te Rangihiroa cannot save you if you will not tell what the Frenchman did with it.” There was no misreading the urgent menace in his tones, but still Peti shook her head. “ I know nothing about it,” she answered heavily.

Little Monika, who stood beside her sister jumped towards the savage hillman, as his hand clawed for her sister’s throat. “ She cannot tell you because she does not know,” the girl stated, quietly, though her pulses were racing.

“ And how do you know she doesn’t know?” the hillman snarled suspiciously, but relaxing his grip on Peti. “ Because,” Monika’s voice was low and tremulous, “of all alive, I only know the secret.” She gathered her courage and looked up suddenly, challengingly, straight into the hot eves of her fierce questioner. “ And I shall never tell you. By this Cross, I swear it.” she finished solemnly. “ That is to be seen, bold talker,” the man shot back and raised bis war-axe threateningly. Again Te Rangihiroa intervened. ‘‘ Stand clear,” he commanded sharply. “ These women belong to me and if you touch them I will kill you. They go with me now to the camp across the river. If there is any complaint to make then let it be done.” , He turned to the girls. “ Come with me,” he said, not unkindly and elbowed a way through the crowd around the broken gate. They took the well-known trail towards the river and on their wav, came upon the dead body of Tautari. He had been overtaken in the flight: th® dumb man had escaped. At the sight, Peti, reminded once more of her own bereavement, broke into passionate weeping ahd Monika’s tears fell fast. The sight of Taranahi’s dead foster-brother, who had foueht so stoutly for them, reminded her of the afeent lover who had ridden away for rescue. Was that after all, to be too late for everyone of them, as it bad already been for Jean and Tautari?

She trudged on beside her sobbing sister, not seeing the track she trod for bitter tears. Here, she remembered with a heart almost bursting, many a time had she and Taranahi walked injjove and happiness. And now, what was the end to be ?

“ There will be trouble over this,” she heard their protector say sombrely. “ That devil, Makarini, who hates me will make much of this. Unless—”- he

touched Monika’s arm—" thou wilt tell me where the powder is hidden.” Monika shook her head sadly, yet with fullest determination. She had given her word to Jean the Frenchman, had sworn it on the Cross and besides, they would take the bullets, these cruel Hauhaus, to lire at laranahi, her own people and Friki and his friends. She shook her head again. “ I will never tell ” she said with utter finality.

“'Then it will go hard with all three of us,” the young man muttered, as he jumped into one of the canoes at the bank. They pushed off and the man took the paddle. " Here come the others now,” he went on earnestly. ” They will go straight to Te Kooti, who will be in illhumour, because that pa across the river holds out still and much powder has been uselessly burnt. Then, since we bring nothing, that devil, Peka Makarini will whisper words of slaughter in the prophet’s ears. Think once again, little bold-words. For thy sister’s sake, who weeps so bitterly, -will thou not whisper the secret to me and save us all?” Before Monika’s eyes there came the vision of a long-legged eager youth, who had ridden away, as it seemed, so very long ago. Upon her head would be his blood if she gave these savages a fresh store of bullets.

‘‘ I will never tell,” she reiterated solemnly and there was a light in h.er eyes that made le Rangihiroa realise that neither pursuasion nor the threat of death would change her decision. She held the crucifix in her hand as the boat drove forward. Her eyes were closed : her lips moved in soundless prayer. ‘‘ 1 have said I will do what is possible for you both,” the young man said, unhappily, as he thrust the canoe upstream to land beyond the range of fire from Rauporoa. " But it may not be very much. Who can say whether any of us three shall see the sun rise to-morrow morning. ’’ A loaded canoe, manned by several paddlers, splashed past them up the stream and the fiat-faced man, who was of the party, shouted a taunt as his boat forged ahead.

” See thou dost not lose the cartridges from thy canoe, T e Rangi,” he called with insolent menace. *‘ They must not fall overside or they would be spoiled and perhaps might Boat over to their friends in the pa over there. They must be delivered safelv or it will be the worse for you. We go to inform Te Kooti of—many things.” ” There will be trouble,” the young man repeated, bitterly angry at the jibes and laughter that floated back from' the other boat. He touched Peti’s arm. *’ Plead with thy sister that she save all our lives. That cross,” he pointed to the sacred emblem in Monika’s hand, ” Stiried old memories of forgotten kindnesses and my lieart was made weak. But the sight of it will not melt Te Kooti nor,” he scowled as he spoke the name, “ that half-breed devil Makarini.”

CHAPTER XIII.—“ GIRD ON YOUR ARMS.” When, in the darkness, Dieutenant Mair rode out of Tauranga, his one compelling idea was to take the shortest possible route in the least possible time, to the friendly settlements to the eastward of lauranga. He determined to rouse the natives in these pas to their imminent danger and persuade them to muster a sufficient force to drive Te Kooti out of the Valley of the Whakatane. At first thought, it seemed very much in the nature of a forlorn hope, for, as he very ■well knew, the best of the fighting men from the largest village, Matata, were away inland on Government service. He could be certain only of boys, old men and the three whites who, bv reason of Jules’ prattle, had been nicknamed the Legionaries. Yet, since no other means of rescue seemed possible, the young officer was eager for the enterprise. Instead, therefore, of taking the longer land route, he knocked up a boatman and was ferried across the harbour, the black horse, held by the bridle, swimming boldly behind the boat. It was night of clouds and beyond the swirling black water around them and the faint loc,~ of a hill on the shore ahead, there was nothing to be seen. “ ’Tis a bad ni"ht for fast travel,” the boatman observed, tugging hard at his seaward oar to prevent the boat’s head being swung round by the strong ebb-rip.

“ I’ll stick to the beach all the way down the Coast,” Mair answered “ Then there’ll be no chance of taking the wrong track in the dark.”

He landed on the beach and at once set off at a sharp pace following the curve of the shore, guiding himself by the steady pulsing of the gentle surf and the dimly-seen fringe of white froth. For a time, he made rapid progress, then, of a sudden, the horse faltered and commenced to plunge violently With a mighty effort, it reared upon its hind legs then crashed forward heavily upon its head. Mair, whose thoughts were far in advance with the defenders of Tc Poronu, was unseated and thrown with stunning force upon the hard sand, just clear of the treacherous quicksand where the horse still struggled. In the instant of his contact with the sand, the man’s loose! v : slung carbine smashed heavily on the back of his head and he lay where he fell, unconscious on the lonelv beach. (To be continued.)