TE NGUTU O TE MANU.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LI, Issue 217, 7 September 1908, Page 4

TE NGUTU O TE MANU.

A THKII-LIXC STOKY OF THE TAJiAiN AKI WAll. j A memorial service wa* held at the ! Te Ngutii-o-tc-Maim reserve, Okaiawa, | yesterday afternoon. Among those pre- 1 sent was the Minister fur Defence (lion. Robert McNab). The story of that disastrous engagement was told by "W'.A.n." in the columns of the llawera Star some live years ago, and at the present juncture it is worth re-telling. In a preliminary article the writer explained the preparations at Wailii camp, on a hill near Mr. Alexander's late residence. A beaten party, who had unsuccessfully assaulted Titokowaru's pah, had drilibled back distressfully in twos and threes, and it was now decided to make a bold attempt to silence the llauhau chief. Everything being in readiness the force moves off on a shivering, dark morning, September 0. Before il is yet light the Waingongoro, llooded by recent rains, is forded at a point below llarry Following the cattle tracks oil the hill upon which ill' Bremer's homestead now stands it breasted and .a halt is called, the men standing at ease to await daylight. When the sun ro-e that morning it was for the last time upon the gallant Von Tempsky and many of his men.

STORY OF THE FKiHT. "Company, attention! Right wheel!' March!" And the column swings into stride and strides for the bush. It comprises Armed Constabulary, Forest Rangers, a section of the Wellington Rifles, and the Kupapas (Wanganui friendly natives), with their famous guide, Winiata. The local native guide, Takiora, has now also joined the force, her knowledge of the country between this point and the "Bird's Beak" clearing being intimate. Besides the regulars, there are a few volunteer settlers present, among whom may be easily distinguished the towering form of Mr. Livingston, of Waipapa. In those days the scrub "encroached on the plain much further than it does now, so that when the troops have reached Te Maru they are already in the outskirts of the hush, now all cleared off by the action of lire and stock, Anon they enter the virgin bush, and pass in single file, and with extreme caution, along a shaded track avenue, overarched with vegetation dripping with incessant rain, and damp with clammy moss. The bush pigeons, then in countless myriads as compared with the few to-day, flap lazily across in front of the march, or stare, cooing, at the passers-by, from the overhanging boughs. In occasional glimpses of sunshine the tuis make the forest ring with t'heir melody, or mock their dull mates, the slow-witted kakas, or imitate the shrill call of the nocturnal weka, who

is now retiring to rest for the day. Aloft, the shrill screech of the kaka, harbinger of storms, constantly grates on the, ears of the dripping men. Always the friendly fan-tailed fly-catcher accompanies them, fluttering around with twittering loquacity, or hanging, with the iniromiro, head downwards from a suspended supple-jack. The march is necessarily slow, as.it behoves them to advance warily, as at any moment a withering volley may ring out from an adjacent ambush. This, and the fact of numerous byways crossing the main track and confusing the leaders, delays the march considerably. So protracted is the advance that it is long past noon when the weary and hungry men are apprised by their olticers that they are in the vicinity of the

clearings of Te Rua Ruru (the nighthawk's nest) and Te Ngutu-o-te-Manu (the bird's beak), which are no-w, it is understood, practically one, owing to the destruction of the scrub which then divided them. Some delay is caused while scouts go forward to reconnoitre the enemy's position. They, returning on all fours, report the palisade in front alive with a silent, and expectant tana (war partyK Then it is arranged that .Major vnii Tempsky is 10 attack the setUemcnt from the northern side, while Colonel McDonnell, with the bulk of the force, passes round by a wide detour to the > south.

Before this movement, which necessarily takes some time, is completely effected, the ardent spirit of von Tempsky anticipates the arrangement, ami he* decides to attack at once, and Ms | command advance to I lie edge of the I clearing. The gallant Lieutenant linn- I ter is the first to show himself to the' rebel gaze, and immediately a report, loud and ominous, rings from the taiapa' inside which the defenders are hidden, ,iiind the accompanying ball whistles through the leaves above his head. "Cents! the ball is opened! Select your partners!" calls out the gay and handsome lieutenant, and, suiting the action to the word, marks out a native who lias leapt upon a stump within the enclosure, the smoking gun in his hand, to taunt the foe, and the .Maori, stricken to death, falls among his fellows. Then commences that sad tragedy. It is soon seen that the body of natives within the palisade is merely a veil to cover the real strength of the enemy, who are perched in all the trees aroifrid, where they have, in many cases, laboriously erected cover. Now Hunter walks out into the open space. The impetuous von Teiupsky, hindered by clinging briers and kareao (supple-jack) which impede him, and slashing fiercely at these with his sword, is close behind him, when a sheet of tlaiue leaps from the top of an adjoining rata, and Hunter, throwing his arms high above his head, plunges forward on the sward—a corpse. That deadly vollev has also ripped the life of the gallant Palmer, and stricken Privates llyland. Dore, and Flynn to earth; and Dr. Walker's hands are speedily full. Owin» to the concealed position of the natives, it is impossible to effeetua.ly return the volley, and the firing on the troops' side becomes merely desultory.

I At length the Major has freed himself from the detaining undergrowth, and calling loudly on his men to follow, dashes out against the rebel stronghold. He has not gone many paces when a crashing volley again breaks from the echoing tree tops, and von Tempsky, turning half round to the left, utters a lung, wild shriek, and subsides on the bloody ' turf, an inert mass—the once brilliant and dashing cavalier, the idol of the soldier's s oul, and the Bayard of the Maori war—now a senseless heap of quivering clay! ■ Captain Buck, seeing the fall of the loader, calls on someone to help him to carry the body, and private T. Slianaglian, then only a youth, leaps forward at once to his" behest. The two dash across the open space, and, amid a storm of whistling lead, stoop over the body of the fallen man. Shanaghan has just passed his left arm under the body, when his thumb is shot away, and immediately substituting his right, the hand thereof is immediately bored by another ball, and a heavy Enfield bullet thumps against the barrel of his musket, almost knocking him down, booking up to show his wounds to the Captain, he perceives that oiiiccr stariiig straight in front of him, with a ghastly glare in his eyes, and realises in a moment thai lie is" talking to a dead man, who presently tilts forward silently at the feet 1 of vou Tempsky, and Shanaghan, stricken with mortal terror, leaps the prostrate forms and dashes for shelter. The raiu of leaden death continues, and man after man goes down, and it is soon apparent to all that the column will be speedily deci ted if it main tiiiits its present poMtiou, and soon Captain \V. McDonnell comes around the clearing with the order from the Colonel to retire. Meanwhile Mr. Livingston and Sergeant Davey, intent on rcvcu'.'.c climb a tawa tree at hand, and griiiu,. and steadily shoot at the exultant natives around, marking with ferocionjoy the occasional heavy crashing fall of a llauhait body through the underlying scrub. Full many a brave Maori's ghost is sped that day, 1 ween, to the Ucreuga W'airau (the spirit's Leap) at the licinga. there to be welcomed by the gods liiki and Tu, who have watched over them a I way, and whom they have served so well. For on that same even do not a parte of the Ngatillikairo, burying one of their dead oil the sacred moiimiiin »f To Aviiroa, at Kiiwhia, where the mummified remains of llieir ancestors are. hear the.rustle of sombre robes, and voices, as of their Southern brethren, wailing, as they pass in air, -Aue! Aue!" .

So intent arc the aforesaid gcnllcnicii in their punitive occupation that they arc very nearly being left behind by their comrades, who have now Wcjjiin to retreat. Simultaneous with this movement, the Maoris, swiuinin;;

J town from their porches, rush on the" trail of tlie retiring force, veiling triumphantly, " Kii lwrn! Ka iioro!" (they arc beaten), and press the wound-ed-ladcn column liereely. So strenuous is the pursuit, and so daring the a<m les . Udonel "n I I ' l ; i ' sent , l >" Ci, l'tain "Suce w , "" ,IUOIU will ' V ; I " l, nti'Uiint llirtzcl and Mr U\Migsluii, become detached from tile "I'll" body, and strike for safety in j'»»ther direction. Tl„. ferocious llau■an, follow then, awhile, but, cowed by he desperate stand of their rearguard i * 'J 1 j ,ri ">entlv lielake tliL'in--llhs to harass the main hod,-. Swoon yelisrashi, 1 to/thiSV l d,XuUiu.Vr"" , u "Mmau"! wLoVS.nlft^hlnvi^

Hue the commander, standing on a <sl> stump, watches the sad procession t bioken and wounded men pass thiougli, and disdains to ll,v (ill ;,|1 arc 8»i»c ahead. Then the victorious i,a lues rush in upon the track, and scan, Upturn I,wan, gallantly defending the e.u, falls with a broken jaw, and several ounces o) lead embedded in bis neck. Calling piteously to his retreating comrades 'not to leave liim to be tomahawked, he is presently aware of the intrepid lather itolland leaning over him, and whispering in his llicn'brukcn I'-nglish: "Hold up, son! hold up! 1 will eave you nevairel" And the good t a tlier, firmly grasping his walkinstick, glowers, with as much fierceness oi expression as he can muster, upon Hie foe. But now the Colonel, hcariii" of Rowan's fall, rushes back, and he and the priest carry tile wounded olliccr along the rugged track to the a helteriu« force. "

The chaplain's hat is now ornamented with three holes, drilled by rebel bullets ' ior ze purpose of ze ventilazeong," he explains. ' This is a serious matter for him, as it is his only headgear. Months after a eurio-hunter, desirous of possessing the same hat, that knowledge comes to the ears of the Pere, who immediately hastens to burn it. This incident will explain, more than countless words, the character of the man. Well might one of his comrades on that fatal day—not of his faith—exclaim, long afterwards, "A saint walked with us that day and we knew it not!" On they struggle, the whole of that dismal afternoon, now turning iiercciy oil tile revengeful Hauhaus, now losing their way in the iitaiiy-palhed forest, until when night is falling they reach the edge of tlie bush, and the exhausted carriers let down their heavy burdens of the wounded on the grass," and taKc a short rest. All save'one group of Wanganui lads, who carry their comrade, big Joe llagan, the whole of the twelve miles, without a rest, in to Wai'ii camp, where they deposit their sorelywounded burden about nine o'clock that night. The respite is short indeed, for soon again the relentless foes appear, and. dancing a ferocious war dance, mock the despairing men. But a well-directed and compact volley from the now rested men speeds many a lijld llauhau to the realms of Po, and the decimated column is harassed no more. They cross the Waingongoro with much dilliculty in the twilight, Colonel McDonald and Sergeant Blake carrying over the wounded , Shanaghaii. Father Holland and an ollicer bearing l'lynn, and all the others joining in to carry the other*.; and their troubles are temporarily over.

What lias become of Die Kupapas the 'while? Almost at the lirst volley they* have melted away, "like the hare before the. beague;" and long before this many have passed the Waingongoro, and are safely in camp relating to the astonished Major Hunter and Captain Oudgeon the news of the disaster. (The former, meeting the returning force at the Waingougoro lord, is apprised of his brother's death. Had be then foreseen that in a Jew months it was decreed he should meet him again in the spirit-land, his grief might have been less keen.) Early in the day it was noticed that these auxiliaries were wearing white, feathers—significant symbols—in their hair, and this fact, coupled with the rumour of a secret compact between 'them and the local JJauhau hapu, is [ regarded by some as explanatory of many things. I Turn we now to "Roberts' belated l party. They, guideless and encumbered [ with wounded men, lose their way in the forest, and become benighted. Just after sunset, too, poor Sergeant Russell is stricken to the ground with a smash- j ed thigh. It is impossible to reniov" 1 him, and be begs, as an alternative, that tlie.v shoot him. better and more manly thoughts, however prevail wiili the desperately wounded man, and hj" begs a revolver to defend himself, which Mr. Livingston gladly gives him, and bids him a sad farewell. Stretched on the bloody track in agony the lone mutilated man waits in stoic il silence for the death he fears cannot be long delayed. No coward thought of self-destruction —the foulest murder of all—gains sway over that dauntless mind, and, calmly resigned, he waits for the end, and he has not long to wait. Anon comes the sound of pattering naked feet, and the swish of mats on the foliage, and now several Haubaus appear in full view. ]fa! they spy the fallen pakoha; and, flashing their tomahawks, they rush forward with ferocious yell to give him the coup-de-graee. Hut * with true eye glancing along the gleaming barrel, the fallen man sends n ball right through the foremost savage: and again the kuakas, waiting in silent raws along the shore of Spirits' Bay, are startled by the appearance of another ghost loping down the Spirits' flight io the sheltering arms of Tu and Tauwhaki below. The rest of the vengeful band then warily retire some way off, and shoot the sergeant dead from a distant flax-bush. 1 "Night diescends on the scene, and with the mantling fold comes relief to the harassed party, and the pursuit slackens. The men choose their resting places for the night in hollow pakateas and in clumps of scrub, and endeavour to snatch a broken sleep. Here Tlirtzei and Livingston are stretched out together on a. pallet of wet fern. Iferl/.el. iu a nightmare sleep, dreaming of the events of the past terrible day, screams out aloud in the night, and awakes to find .the giant (grasping him by the throat. "If you don't keep tjuiet HI strangle you! ,? says Livingston, and hU companion, seeing the justice of the threat, and knowing the proximity cf shadowing natives, relapses into profound slumber. At ilawn of day they are afoot again, and, striking the open ma'ce all haste to shelter in the AYailii redoubt. That same night a weird and ogreish scene is enacted in the settlement of Te Ngutu-o-te-Manu. In the centre of an open .space a niu ' pole has been erected, and on it are nailed in ghastly order the. heads of the vallen men. I Round about, in a leaping circle of thundering feet, wild with excitement, with muclf lolling of tongues and protruding of eyeballs, dance a band of llauhaus. chanting a wild refrain: '"i'ai Marirol Marire haul" And ever and anon,down upon the night wind, to the listeners in Uoberts' party, is borne, like the yapping of depredant dogs among a llock of sheep, the paean of a horrible litany: '•'illsuil ban! hau Atua the Father, hail! Atua. the Soil, hau! hau! Atua Ihe llolv Spirit, hau! hau! hau!'' And by-aud-bye the liW'cc natives collect, with much labour, brushwood and bramble and dry logs, and build a gigantic bonfire on the spot: dragging thither and placing thereon, wiili extreme toil, the bodies of the slain. High on top or the ghastly pyrfe they hoist the still'cuing corpse of the gallant Major, and the tohunga, with much ceremony, haknria.and incantation, applies the torch to the pile; and anon a thick and pungent smoke ascends to heaven. . . . j To the dead— what reeks it, no\v?i They are past alike mockery and in- j sult--hce<lless of the musketry whieh pierces their corpses, and deaf to the sound of its boom—past the toil and the Hood —past the wind a.nd the rain —they have done their duty well, and fallen in its execution—and it matters little to the senseless clay whether it is engulfed in circling smoke, or swathed in liuen rare Five days afterward*. the look-out man on the Wailii parapet observed in the distance a gaunt, half-naked man steering an erratic course towards the camp. lie j.h I evidently iu the last stages of exhaus- ] tion, and reels at every stride. A patrol jis sent out to bring him in. it is Private Dore, he who was wounded i/i

the lirst volley at Te Xgtitu, and in has a tale to t'eli such as would have enabled his liiagjiiiliiceiLt namesake to paint inie of his eouce jitions of Dante s Inferno.- Left wounded in the bush, he has hv smile means escaped tomahawking, and throughout the night following the light heard, he says, the 'lp- | palling groans of tortured men, and

seen, as in a ghastly butcher's shop, the tree blanches around the llaine-lit clearing strung with the joints and oilier portions of the bodies of his comrades. But a man ill a delirium may imagine lIIIK-li. and ne prefer to think that lie is mistaken. True, a few', of the fanatks did, a few days afterwards, cross the Waingongoro and exhume the body if poor Trooper Smith, shot on the Tongahoe hill, near .Ur. Death's, and, horrible to relate, made soup of the bones! Then, strong with the strength of the pakeha, they hurl themselves on the Manawapou fort, but are defeated with much slaughter. But this, the last instance of cannibalism in this locality, is only chargeable to a lew fanatics, drunk with victory and maddened by the loss of their relatives, and does mil aflecl, as a whole, the honor of the gallant race who lought for their native land so long and so iwcll, and who now walk almost as strangers over the loll" lands which once were theirs alone. "Where is the slave who would not die for such a land';"

A few actors in these stirring scenes still survive, and two at lea.it (.Messr.-.. Livingston and l'lynn) are now iu tmr midst. But many have left the land of the living and floated out upon the dark and unknown sea'that "rolls round all the world!" tl|f these, enshrined for aye in the long memories of the pure-minded and the clean, is Jean Baptiste Holland, the mild and brave. After months of patient suffering he has closed his tired eyes upon the foster-land lie loved so well. And there, a few days ago, in the cemetery of that mining town in the .South, mustered a vast concourse from all parts of the rugged coast—miners from Okarito and Ross—lnet'cliants from ilokitika and Westport—to do honor to the memory of a man who, living, would have deprecated such notice. For three long' miles they bear his body to its last resting-place - old men, manifestly unfit for the labor, strenuously holding their places at the handles of the bier, despite the offers of the young and strong to supersede tlieiu, and struggling contentedly along with their hallowed burden—and the roar of musketry, which he had often faced unlliuehingiy in life, breaks aga 11 over the quiet clay. And he is not forgotten in death. For to those to whom his memory will remain as an earnest of the dignity which mall may achieve will ever recur the hope that f "Beyond the loom of the last lone star, Through outer darkness whirled— Further than ever comet llarcd, Or vagrant star-swarm swirled— He sits with those who serve our God, For that they loved His world!" And doubtless now, with those patient and steadfast men of his race who have pioneered civilisation ill almost every land—Jesuits, Oblates, Peres Blaucs—n reverend throng, tortured by Jlurons and l)vaks, martyred by .Mongol and Bantu—lie pleads in their company with Omnipotent Mercy on behalf of then' ( fallen land!