TAMATI THE TRUTHFUL.

Otago Witness, Issue 3861, 13 March 1928, Page 81

TAMATI THE TRUTHFUL.

By

lan Mackay.

(Copyright. —For the Otago Witness.) “ Yes, Makaire, he is a good dog, though, as you say, his pedigree is indeed a doubtful one. But if the tale my father told me be true—and I doubt it not—there is nothing of meanness in his ancestry. And, as you know, there is no pig dog his like in the whole district; and he is not for sale.” The tawny mongrel at his feet showed some sort of claim to ancestral pride by a successful snap at a persistent bluebottle that buzzed about him. He swallowed it, and went to sleep again. I was compelled to admit that the dog was certainly quick in action, if not over-particular as to diet. “ As I was saying, pakeha, there is a history attached to him, for he is descended from the dog the pakeha trader gave Te Whero, my father, in the days when the Gisborne district was so often the scene of raiding and killing. And this animal was fierce—so fierce, in fact, that when he was let. loose none save my father dare approach him. “ Came the day when, on one of these occasions, our tohunga, who was as brave as he was all-powerful, ventured from his whare and daringly walked in the direction of the meeting house. .It is said that the tohunga had once got the better of my father in a transaction over certain women slaves, and that there was much bad blood between them. Perhaps my father’s feelings in the matter had in some way entered the mind of the dog. With a mighty roar he sprung upon the priest, tearing his mat from his body, and felling him to the ground. Even with the help of the owner it took many warriors to beat off the dog and rescue the tohunga. “ Now the mana of the tohunga was a great one, the threat of which was used to hush the children to sleep, and which even made grown warriors tremble. Yet, strange to relate, he visited his vengeance not upon the dog, but upon my father, who had consciously done him no hurt. But he had forgotten the gratitude of the rangatira towards Te Whero, whose wisdom had once saved the whole tribe from a raiding party of the Ngatiawa. And thus, though there was just demand for utu .within the tribal law, the chief commanded that my father’s life be spared. To appease the ■wrath of the tohunga, however, the order went forth that he be banished to a distant hapu, comprised of the lower boni of the tribe, there to end his life in shame. And the next day, carrying his musket and followed by his dog, Te Whero left the village. “ Many were his privations on the rough trail that led to his new home. Yet with the kereru mutu (bird eharm) he snared the kaka and wild pigeon, sharing all with the kuri, until the two travellers eventually reached their destination. They were made welcome. “ As I have said, Makaire, those were dark days. There were the usual intertribal quarrels, but worse was to come. One early morning an exhausted messenger arrived with the news of Te Kooti’s raid, and of the massacre of the pakeha settlers in the country below us. . Our main hapu, he told us, was divided against itself, some adopting the faith of the Hau-Hau, which was that of Te Kooti, while others. preferred the religion of the missionary, and desired to remain friendly to . the whites. With the former’s party was my father’s chief enemy, the tohunga, along with over 200 , men. These had joined the rebel chief, and were even now on their way to this particular pa, killing all who opposed them. He (the messenger) had fought with Te Whero in the old raiding days, a.nd Warned him, with emphasis, of the nameless death the tohunga had vowed to inflict. “My father was a brave man. He called the people together. He pointed out that the Hau-Hau was a mockery of even the oldest religion of the Maori, and that it was therefore their bounden duty to remain with their friendly kinsmen and the pakehas. And the people, one and all, acclaimed his wisdom. ‘We must move northwards immediately,’ he went on, ‘ leaving nothing that might succour the raiders. I shall remain behind in order to watch their movements, and will report to you later.’

“ But Te Whero had not counted on the cunning of the tohunga. That early evening, as he waited in his whare, he heard the dog bark loudly. Rushing out b.e immediately saw that, except for the opening left by the river a hundred yards away, he was surrounded. Te Kooti’s men had not approached the whare by the-direct trail, as he had expected. All hope- seemed lost. Yet, dauntless to the last, he made for the river, his enemies yelling exultantly a short distance behind him. The river at this point described a short semicircle—thus ”: (Tamati graphically illustrated with his depleted glass, generously distributing the dregs along the adjacent wall-)

a There were two fords. Te Whero made for the top one, to find it closely guarded. Desperately he headed for the bottom crossing, to find his escape cut off there also. Back he returned to the edge of the deep water, prepared to plunge in and take the risk of the almost certain death from the bullets of the rebels, which were even now flying about him.

“ Suddenly, lying at his feet, he espied a discarded camp oven. Quick to act, he placed this on his head, and plunged in, swimming breast stroke. His un-looked-for action gave him a good start. Bullets hit the oven everywhere, but naturally failed to penetrate, and the tohunga and his men yelled in baffled rage.

“ But as my father neared the far bank he heard something puffing and blowing, and making a great splash behind. Harder and harder he swam, but the puffing and blowing continued. The pursuer seemed right on him. Every second he expected to feel the deathdealing tomahawk between his shoulders. He reached shallow water and dashed to the bank, discarding the oven as he went. He turned about, prepared for a fight to the death, and ” Tamati replenished the glass, and gulped noisily.

“ Ther was Te Whero’s dog, the progenitor of the one you see before you, with the lid of the camp oven in his mouth!

“ Yes, Makaire, he is a good dog. As I have said, he is not for sale. Still, you are my good friend, and you may have him for five shillings.”