A MAORI SCARE

Taranaki Daily News, 17 December 1926, Page 4 (Supplement)

A MAORI SCARE

IN THE ’SIXTIES. PLIGHT OF PIONEERS IN THE BUSH. (Second Prize—Master A. Salmon, Eltham, aged 15 years.) About the year 1865 grandfather and grandmother came to Taranaki, landing in New Plymouth. At that time there were military barracks on Marsland Hill and a few cottages and shops. Grandfather joined the military settlers, and for his service he was granted a small section of land. The first was half an acre in Oakura township. When it was safe they moved their small family to a tent and afterwards to a whare on this section. A grant was subsequently made of another half-acre at Hauhau, and fifty acres at Tataraimaka. The latter they intended to make their home. While the family resided in Oakura, grandfather felled a few acres of bush and built a slab hut. When it was thought by the military authorities to be safe for women and children they shifted to their new home. Over very rough roads and tracks through standing bush, around the Kaitake Ranges they made their weary journey. Slow, wild and lovely was the scenery —through fern-clad gullies, over hills with stately ratas and rimus, together with supple jacks and bush lawyers, from which the place takes its name “Tataraimaka.” Grandmother’s first impression on be holding their new home, surrounded by dense bush, was that she would never live to see that fifty acres felled and cleared. They were soon busy making a garden and felling bush, and sawing timber for a larger house, and all went well and happily until one day two nen rode up to the clearing looking for bullocks. They were very surprised to see a woman and children in the bush, and ,told them that the Maoris were causing trouble again, and all women and children were ordered to New Plymouth to the barrack buildings. Grandfather wanted, to make them go .at once, but grandmother was not willing to go. as it meant a long day’s drive in a hnl’ock eart, and so many women

and children cramped together usually caused sickness, so she said they would just take their chances, and, as they had been there for several months and had not seen a Maori all the time, she felt quite secure and would not leave the bush. Soon after dark that evening grandfather came in looking very white and worried, saying lie should have made them leave for New Plymouth, as then it was too late, and the bullocks were away in the bush and there was no time to get them, as he was sure there was a large party of Maoris marching through the bush from Okato, and they would come out of the track close by their whare. How grandfather wished now that he had not been so foolish to let them stay home, but it was too late now, so he loaded his rifle and gave orders that the fire and all lights were to be put out, and the children were to be kept very quiet and on no account to come out, no matter what happened, and he would watch out by the track with his rifle readv.

With shaking hands grandfather put the two youngest children to bed. They were too young to understand the danger, and were soon fast asleep. The two older ones were too afraid to go to ‘bed, but crept beneath it as far back as they could, while grandmother bolted the door and stood with her back against it and, armed with matches anti candle, prayed - and waited for the Maoris to attack them. Grandfather was waiting with his rifle at his shoulder with every nerve strained,to eatch that tramping, clattering sounds in the bush. Every now and again the noise ceased, and then the persons responsible would advance again, the sound ever coming closer. By those echoing, heavy sounds there must be a large party on the warpath. Blaming himself for bringing his wife and little ones into danger, grandfather was determined to fight and protect them with his life, if need be. He waited. Yes, they were advancing steadily. At any moment these tattooed warriors would be in the clearing. With finger on the trigger, however, he was ready for them. Just at this moment grandmother, thinking she had waited hours and afraid the Maoris had crept up behind grandfather and clubbed him down and might fire the hut, could withstand the suspense no longer. Lighting her candle she opened the door and with the light above her head, called out: “John! John! Are you safe?” Imagine grandfather's anger that she should expose herself as a target for the Maoris, who, he felt, were almost on them now. There was no time to save her, for the underscrub was being shaken by someone pushing through. Well, he must shoot first before the Maoris could get his dear one. He was just about to pull the trigger when the light from the candle flashed on the enemy’s face. He was their old horse, who had been threading his way through the undergrowth! How glad they were that it was not the Maoris, but their own old horse. Perhaps the lighted eandle and grandmother had saved his life. Thus ended that particular Maori scare.