TALES AND SKETCHES.
+ KEREAMA. A STOUT OF S4JLOES AOT SAY AGES. (By KORAU.) [All Righxs Reserved.]
CHAPTER XXVII. KOROMTCO PA. At last Pomare had a moments respite, and, Graham went up to him to inquire the reason of this strange behaviour of their enemy. "Whatever is the meaning of all this, Pomare? One minute they are for, killing and eating us, and the nest they embrace us with every demonstration of affection." "It is all a mistake, Kereama," replied Pomare, brushing away the tears which still bedewed his cheeks. " How a mistake?" "They are our friends." "What! Not Rokino's men?" " No, they are our friends from Koromiko.' Dost thou not remember, I led them against the Ngapuhi when Parabakl was so nearly captured ? See ! tliat is old Tinirau, the slayer of hundreds," he cried, pointing to the chief who had welcomed Graham so effusively. •" Well— l thought I knew him. So we have been fighting against friends. But how is it thou didst not know them yesterday?" • "It was only the young men who Baw each other, and they were too maoh taken up with the display of their own valour to recognise their old allies. The Koromiko were on the look out for ■enemies rather than friends; and in any ca9e, I doubt if they could have recognised each other in the dusk of evening. It was thy harsh battle-cry which saved us, Tinirau recognised it at once. They mistook us, as we did them, for Rokino's men;" "Why did they call me?" " They thought thou wert a prisoner, in danger of being slain for the oven when Rokino's men began to starve, and wished to save thee from destruction by this device, which. even murderers dare not ignore." " Are the Koromiko on the warpath?" f 'No, they received Hauraki's message, and were conveying the women *nd children to Koromiko. pa before going to his assistance. The whole tribe is here." "Let us inform our people above of the good news, and take them a supply of water," said Graham eagerly. *'All in good time, Kereama; why art thou always in such a hurry? There is no danger of attack from Rokino now, and we must make preparations for a great tangi." When Graham understood that these painted warriors were his good friends from Koromiko, he went among them, and was received with every demonstration of regard, until the bridge of his nose ached from the fervent pressure of so many salutations. All the assembled chiefs were proud to meet the great Kereama, of whose prowess they had heard so much. Graham then probured a large calabash of water, which he hid under his cloak, and persuading several slaves similarly laden to. accompany him, they climbed to the Hawk's Nest. He foresaw that this ceremony of tangi would be a lengthy business, and a good hour elapse before the ordeal of greeting was finished, during which time the poor children would have to endure the torments of thirst. Their plaintive voices still rang in his ears, and he was determined to take up this supply, even if it were contrary to Maori etiquette. On gaining the summit, all crowded round Graham with anxious looks and eager inquiries. After both their Waders . had apparently deserted them, fchey had been filled with despair. Toana, having taken Pomare' s. place in command, met Graham on his- appearance at the Bummit. "What', is the result of thy parley wifi the enemy, Kereama?" she asked, with dignity. " They are not enemies, but our, good friends the Koromiko, it is all a mistake." This he called in a loud voice so that everyone might hear his good news. The effect was magical. Looks , of blank despair vanished in a moment, and joy beamed from every face; wailing of distress were hushed or drowned by shouts of delight. Friends, calling out the good news, embraced each other, and mothers wept for joy as they told their little ones that water would soon be brought. Graham gave his calabash to Hirawani, whom he greeted affectionately. She would not touch the water,, but distributed it among the children, whose parents blessed her and the good Kereama — Kereama of the generous heart — and his praises sounded very sweet to Her ears. The copious tears and mummery by which Graham had been greeted on meeting Tinirau and his companions had only surprised and amused ; him, but these genuine expressions of gratitude and tears of joy went straight to h's heart. He had no need to warn Toana and the assembled crowd of the approaching ceremony. Directly the expression or their feelings of thankfulness and relief bad subsided all set about preparing for the tangi,; Seated on the ground, they formed a : wide semi-circle, facing the point at which, their guests would arrive. Toana, Hirawani and Kereama occupied the position of honour, and those with any pretensions to rank sat in the front row. Old Tinirau and his warriors presently appeared. "Walking slowly, with impassive faces and eyes cast to the Sound, they seated themselves opposite eir friends, who all this time remained, immovable, and with their eyes also averted. ; - When all were seated one of Pomare' s party began, in a high-pitched voice, to wail forth a song of welcome; but in such a lugubrious, minor key that, to Graham's ears, it sounded more like a iuneral dirge; and. at the end of every sentence,' the whole party joined in a chorus of the same melancholy nature. 'AH eyes were still averted, so that Graham's covert looks found the assembly were not detected. He noticed that the song had hardly commenced before copious tears appeared on every cheek, and continued to flow steadily during the whole ceremony. ' •■•., -- When the interminable- song of welcome, which described in extravagant terms the excellences of their visitors (old Tinira.u being extolled as an eater of his own relations)^ and set forth the circumstances of • their meeting in every minute f particular^ was at last 'ended. the visitors rose, and, wajking round the circle of seated friends, pressed noses with each in turn. This salute terminated the tangi, and the women now came forward with food and water, which they distributed to their thirsty neighbours. Then ensued such a clatter of tongues as defies all description; men, women and 'children yelling and ■creamuuc to each other, all at the top
of their voices. Every incident of the morning was told over' and over again with the most minute_ detail. Here a young man would vociferously describe how Graham had shouted his war-cry, and then 'descended the cliff, detailing each step with wearisome iteration. There an old woman, in shrill treble, related his return with the slaves carry- \ ing water calabashes under their cloaks. j But, as there were still a few hours of daylight remaining, Pomare and Tinirau resolved to continue their march for Koromiko. Both parties, travelling together, made for a better camping ground at some* distance ahead, where this spur joined the main' ridge. The southern descent from the Hawk's Nest, less steep than the side on which they had ascended, did not long delfey the march. Tinirau sent forward a strong advance guard to reconnoitre, and every possible lurking place was thoroughly searched, but no indication of an enemy met with. By evening they reached the new camping ground/ and after so exciting a day all were glad to rest their weary limbs, on - the 'cushiony moss under spreading tree and padu. Graham, after conferring with the chiefs about the next day's march, returned to where the escort had camped. Hirawani waited with his supper all ready. "Art thou not starving, Kereama?" " \es, Hirawani, I could eat enough for two this night — where didst thou get the fish?" "The wife of old Tinirau sent it me." Graham felt relieved by this reply, for he knew her to be both old and ugly ; afc any rate, not one to arouse fche jealousy of his exacting sweetheart. " Thy prophecy hath come true, Hirawani, we are still alive and together. At midday our affairs had reached so hopeless a pass that I made up my mind to do something desperate. Just fancy ! -fighting with our allies the i JLoromiko, and the young warriors slayj ing their friends, thinking them to be foes. But for this mistake Weka and Hipango would be still alive and well." " Alas, I mourn for poor Hipango ! But- 'tis the fortune of war. If it had leally been Rokino, we might have shared his fate." " Now I understand why they knew the ground so well, and were able to find their way round the cliffs at night time. The Hawk's Nest is at no great distance from Koromiko pa." "No, we may reach it to-morrow. But thou hast finished eating, Kereama, and must sleep. We make an early start in the morning." The next day they travelled faster, for the track along the main ridge by vhich they now advanced was botri wider and easier. Koromiko was not sighted until the approach of evening. It was perched on the bare summit of a mountain, and could be discerned at some distance. On nearing the open ground they found the advance guard awaiting them. ' Tinirau, moving forward, catted to the garrison, but received no reply. The silence was ominous. Had the enemy taken possession? Their own people, would have recognised the call and answered immediately. Tinirau decided, therefore, to make a sudden assault on the stronghold from all sides simultaneously. - The. main body was halted in the forest' well out of sight. From this he detached three columns, with orders to make a wide circuit through the forest, and, when all were ready, advance upon the pa at a given signal. The warriors 6et out, burning with impatience to oust Rokino's murdering band from their stronghold, and Graham could not but admire the stealthiness of their march. Looking round upon the dense scrub which clothed the steep mountain sides, no sign whatever could be seen of the two hundred marching warriors, but when Tinirau gave the word all four columns were seen to burst from coyer at one and the same moment. With terrific yells they rushed up to the pa. No one appeared at the defences. Their gallant charge was received in silence — a silletce that puzzled the leaders and brought them to a standstill within tv/e-nty yards of the palisades. " What new device of the enemy is this?" cried Tinirau. "Some 0* that cursed Rokino's devilry!" The palisades, in front were whole and intact, with no outward sign of trap or pitfall ; but over all reigned a silence as of death. The young warriors, becoming impa-^ tient, drew nearer and nearer, until they could be restrained no longer. With a sudden rush, the gates were forced and the palisades sealed. Still no sign of the enemy. "Within were traces of a fierce combat, dark stains of blood, broken spears, cloaks thrown aside and trampled upon, but no appearance, of either enemy or garrison. What could it mean? Tinirau, more and more perplexed, called a halt to consult with the others before attempting the citadel. The chiefs could not understand why the enemy had made no resistance, for this Koromiko pa was the strongest in all that country. Though none knew how long it had been built, it had never been taken by assault ; indeed, its fame far eclipsed- that of Parahaki. That it had been recently visited by an enemy was conclusively proved by the recent traces ot strife, and it was equally certain that their own people, who had hitherto been sufficient to defend the pa, were not in possession. " Rokino must have obtained admission through treachery," said Tinirau, decidedly. "He never could have stormed these works, and there has not been time to starve the garrison into submission." "Ay," replied Pomare, examining the blood-stained ground minutely, "the traces around indicate an unreBisting slaughter rather than a contested battle." "But if he gained possession of this impregnable stronghold, why hath he not retained it?" "Hauraki's approach may have disturbed him. But this silence is not like Rokino's men," replied Pomare. " Oome, Tinirau 1 let us advance to the citadel." This interior work, situated on an isolated rock, the sides nearly perpendicular, was well nigh impregnable; and while Tinirau still hesitated to advance, three young men crept stealthily forward to the single gate that gave admittance. To tne surprise of all, the 1 wicket slid open at their touch, but instead of advancing within, they stood gazing intently at something which seemed to root their feet to the spot; Others advanced, impelled by curiosity, to look through the gate, but remained spell-bound with the rest, and a low murmur, expressive of astonishment and rage, broke the death-like silence. Graham, wondering, what could be the meaning of this'srtange behaviour, went up and looked within. A 'horrible sight met his.. gaze. In two ghastly rows were hound the bodies of about thirty old men and. women; all were dead, and Ishowed on their lean frameß marks of' the most revolting torture*
"This is the work of that villain Rokino!" cried Pomare, his voice trembling with rage. "He must, have obtained admittance to the pa by treachery." " Our garrison would receiye mm as a friend !" exclaimed Tinirau, who had also come up to the citadel. ' They knew how valiantly Rokino had fought against the Ngapuni-at Parahaki, but had not heard of his rising in rebellion against Hauraki." "Ay," replied Pomare, "this garrison of old men knew nothing of the villain's attempt to carry off Hirawani and his cowardly attack on her father. "It is all as plain as if I had witnessed the base deed," continued Tinirau, savagely. "They would welcome him as their trusty ally from Parahaki, listen to some cunningly vrorded tale from his ready tongue, give him admittance, and when all were surrounded, fall an easy prey- to the dastard's treachery. See! these are the 'marks where his victims struggled —tbe Koromiko do not tamely submit, even when taken by surprise and outnumbered ten to one ; but what chance had these old men agaiust his ruffian band? Look here, where the few captured alive have been slowly tortured to death!" " The villian ! When I meet him he shall pay dearly for this!" cried Kiwi, has face distorted with rage. " Ay, none will spare him now. Behold! this also is some of his work; I have seen him at it before," Pomare pointed to the nearest corpse, which showed a small incision where the jugular had been severed; "I do not understand," said Graham. "His jugular is cut, but there are no stains^of blood?" " No, I tell thee 1 have seen Rokino do that before to a bound captive. Ho quaffed great draughts of blood while the man still lived 1" . Graham turned away in horror, no longer able to bear the sight of the tortured figures. Going outside the pa, away from everyone, he J:ried to shut out the dreadful spectacle. "It is horrible !" he groaned. How can such monsters exist?" Hirawani found him here some tune later. " There thou art, Kereama! I have been looking everywhere for thee. What is it?" 'she asked, sympathetically, "art thou sick?" . "Ay, Hirawani," he groaned. "Tell me what ails thee?" She took his hand between both of hers, her face full of concern. "I am sick at heart, dearest, he said, shudderingly. It frightened Hirawani to see this strong man mastered by grief. He was no 1, like her jwn people, who could call up their tears at will, tears that resemblod her own, in that they relieved the tense feelings. His soul was torn by an agony before the bitter drops could be wrung from his reluctant eyes. Kneeling beside him, her own tears flowed in sympathy as Bhe tried to sooth the passion that shook his frame. - Graham's paroxysm lasted but a few minutes. With an effort he mastered "It is past now, Hirawani. This country -of thine is peopled by devils, not men." "I will leave it to-morrow, Kereama; and travel with thee to the world's end if thou desirest." "Would that we could, dearest! I am sick of all this bloodshed and murder." Even as he spoke was the air rent with the lamentations of women mourning for the dead; the spectacle of their naked bodies, gashed with knives, was only less revolting to the Englishman than the sightless company within the citadel. Hirawani could not persuade Graham to return with her; she therefore left him while she superintended the preparations for supper, a duty which occupied her until darkness had set in; therf she induced him to enter the fortress. A frugal meal of sweet potatoes, taro and fern-root cakes awaited him, for their rations were becoming straitened. Toana informed him that a war party would march from Koromiko *wo hours before dawn, the scouts having already set out to reconnoitre, and Graham, glad of an excuse to escape from the vicinity of these ghastly victims of Rokino's brutality, decided to accompany it. He slept little, on account of the women's dismal wailing, and his own vivid imagination, which conjured nameless horrors before his eyes. Two hundred and fifty warriors, all told, marched silently from Koromiko in the dark hour just before dawn. Tinirau placed Graham in charge of the rearguard, and before they had advanced a mile Hirawani joined him. She had stolen out of the pa, vowing that nothing should separate them while in the vicinity of Rokino. The dawn had not broken when they met the scouts returning with news of Hauraiu. He and his warriors were already in possession of Parahaki. The active old rangatira had arrived two days before, and was informed by a deserter that Rokino had captured Parahaki from the unsuspecting garrison, whom he butchered to a man, and was preparing a similar surprise for Koromiko Hauraki, on receipt of this news, waited patiently until Rokino marched off on this expedition, and then surrounded Parahaki with ms large force, now increased by the "arrival of allies to three hundred men. The majority within the pa secretly sided with him, and upon a concerted signal opened the gates. Thus Hauraki captured the stronghold without a o*ow. Most of Rokino's followers, disgusted with his excesses, were only too glad to return to their old allegiance, and one of these, whom Rokino reckoned as among his staunohest supporters, arranged the usurper's destruction. He journeyed secretly to Koromiko, deceived Rokino with the news that Hauraki had not captured Parahaki, and that there was time to reach the pa before the enemy. Rokino, therefore, suspecting no snare, and afraid only of his forces being attacked while divided, hastened back to parahaki with all speed, abandoning Koromiko altogether. Hurrying forward in his anxiety to re^ch Parahaki first, he entered one of the scrubby flats about half way between the two pas. Here Hauraki, without a note of warning, fell upon him, and in the space of a tew minutescut off his party almost to a man. Only the arch traitor himself, with two or three followers, survived. None dared face Rokino's terrible mere, and he succeeded in escaping to the dense forest below.
CHAPTER XXVIII. HUtAWANI It was shortly after the defeat of Bokirio that Hauraki and Tinirau met. Despatching a . resolute band to f ollcw the fugitive Rokino, they returned to Parahaki.with i; great reioi<?ings v Afi the old. iftiifiatira *B . niana revived^
the places of those lost by all this fighting were rapidly filled by recruits from the surrounding villages. Hauraki s renown increased, and promised, before long, to place him in the same leading position among the Kaipara tribe as of old. Second only to him in honour and reputation stood Kereama, whose valuable assistance at a most critical time had saved the tribe from annihilation; for, with Hauraki s death, none could have prevented Rokino from becoming paramount chief. Not only was the white man high in favour with Hauraki, but Te Puia and Pomare, now leading chiefs, were alike his friends. As for the women and children, they worshipped the great white warrior — Kereama, of the generous heart — and Graham, for a time, found his life not unendurable. Nothing more had been heard of Rokino. His pursuers followed the fugitive far into the Ngapuhi country, but never captured him; and, being in turn chased by the Ngapuhi, they were glad to escape to their own country with whole skins.. Graham's attachment to the sweet Hirawani grew each day; nevertheless, he often asked her for news of a ship, by which ehe knew the life did not content him, and after only a month of ease and relaxation he saw trouble looming ahead. Though generally popular, he was not understood, and the many breaches of their customs and tapu which he committed were put down to the white man's eccentricity, some gomg so far as to say that lie was mad. In no other way could thej account for his rash deeds and sayings, which, they argued, must bring the very worst 'luck to him and the tribe. This party was led by the old tohunga, who had never forgiven Graham for his success in curing Hauraki's blindness. The two great institutions of tapu and muru were far too intricate for his comprehension, and he lacked the patience necessary to study their minute details. He would insult the shades of departed rangatiras quite unintentionally, as when he would camp under a treo in which the bones of a. great chief had been hung to dry many years ago. This entailed a long penance of purification before anyone would- even speak t-o him. Another day he cut a stick from a spot where a deceased ancestor had been buried, thereby entailing a further penance, and his^'neighbours ■ could not understand why the Gods did not destroy him. > Another source of trouble was his absolute refusal to be tattooed, which seemed quite incomprehensible to his friends, for a great artist had arisen in the land, who had improved on the oldfashioned decoration of simple stripes down each cheek. Going to Nature for a model, he copied the unfolding crook of a graceful tree-fern, or the radiating leaves of a young palm. This genius, now a very old man, was of the Kaipara tribe, and their chiefs were, in consequence, the leaders of fashion in this respect. Only slaves were denied the coveted decoratioh, and as but a small surface of the skin could be done at a time, it required a considerable \period to complete the decoration of the whole face. One ambitious young chieftain, having killed his first man in battle, which entitled him to the coveted adornment, insisted on having the whole of his right ' cheek tattooed at a sitting, but he died from the operation. These petty annoyances irritated Graham, and proved very vexatious; but the affair which distressed him most, and where he recognised an almost insurmountable difficulty, concerned Hirawani." Toana glive him to understand, in a manner not to, be mistaken, that he had only to ask for her hand and it would be granted; and when he still held back, she plainly intimated that bis conduct was not considered satisfactory. To marry Hirawani in New Zealand, meant binding himself with fetters to live in a country which each day became distasteful. . Already new expeditions and 1 aidswere talked of, in which, a-s a great toa, he would be expected to take a leading part, and his heart sickened at the prospect of fresh atrocities. If Graham felt disturbed about himself, he was far more troubled about Hirawani. She, poor girl, could not understand his conduct. An instinctive delicacy prevented her seeking him ; she held aloof, and showed by her manner that it was his place to irake the advance. Graham knew that thia backwardness on his part must cause her great distress. Indeed, she plainly showed it in her altered looks and manner. Of an impressionable nature, the mental affliction to which this gave rise caused her to pine visibly. Instead of the bright, smiling face that always welcomed his approach, he frequently found her in tears, and she often avoided a meeting This state of things Graham found hard to endure. If it had required all his resolution on a former occasion to resist - the maiden's openly expressed dissatisfaction and undisguised attempts to beguile him, he found it tentimes harder to steel his heart against her silent reproaches. Although her attitude towards him was now outwardly reversed, and it was she who shunned him, his heart told him this behaviour sprung from the same cause. The pale cheek and drooping head informed him more eloquently of the sorrowing heart than reproachful words and looks. The averted gaze and trembling lip touched his conscience more quickly than tears and pleadings. It wrung him to the soul to see. this innocent wild flower of the forest languish and fade for want of the loving service and attention from him that was hers by right.He hoped and prayed that a ship would arrive, for escape with Hirawani promised the only solution of the difficulties which beset him. At last he could bear her misery no longer, and vowed to himself that if one did not come within ten days he would formally ask Her hand in marriage. The time passed slowly, and Hirawani drooped more and more each day. She thought the evil spirit had again taken possession of Kereama and hardened his heart towards her. No word came to Graham of a vessel visiting this outlandish shore, and directly the term had expired he for■in ally applied to Hirawani' s relations for her hand. After a proper show of hesitation, and with no indecent haste, he was graciously informed that he would be received into Hauraki's aristocratic family when the due ceremonies had been performed. As he bowed low in acknowledgment of 60 distinguished an honour, the younp: Englishman could not help wondering what his mother would think could she have witnessed this barbaric formality; and how would she welcome a daughter descended from one of the most famous wairiors. in New Zealand, w/Hose^c^'p', i title to *k & * eminence lay in. the fact
of his having killed and eaten more 01 his enemies than any man living? In due course Graham was invited to attend the feast given in honour oi Hirawani' s betrothal, a ceremony held at the full moon. : Feasting marked many formalities here, as in other countries, and when Graham sat down before the mountain of eatables he thought that the marriage rites in England and the Antipodes were not so very dissimilar after all. On the one hand, the feast marked the wedding, while here it was given just one month before, at the ' betrothal. Instead of sitting down to a table glittering with plate and glass, they sat ur the ground, feeding from baskets and I mats with their fingers. I Though rancid shark and eel might I not have been admitted to an Englisltable, baked pigeon and parrot were dainties not to be despised by the most fastidious ; and roasted dog, if called by some other name, would have even satisfied, an epicure. These dogs were reared only for food, and were looked upon as the greatest Maori delicacy. Among other dishes that might be ; described as loading the ground instead i of gracing the table were sweet potatoes, taro, fern-root cakes, mussels, cockles, together with flounder and mullet. So sumptuous a feast had not been held for many years, and great was the satisfaction of Toana's guests. Now that Graham had taken the ir revocable step he felt easier in his mind, and it greatly cheered him to sec how quickly his betrothed regained her bright looks. Before three weeks were past she was again the beautiful creature who had marched at his side two months before; the elasticity returned ito her step, and Hirawani, the only child of Hauraki and Toana, the great est rangatfras in all the land, betrothed I to Kereama, the famous white toa, held her head as proudly as ever. Graham's admiration was unbounded j he never tired of looking upon her lovely face and graceful figure. And that other face? Alas! it became so dim in his memory as to be almost forgotten. At last the new moon showed herself, a silver crescent hanging in the sky, above the roseate glory of the setting sun. It was Hirawani who saw it first. "See, Kereama!" she cried, joyfully, pointing towards it. " There is our moon." "Where, little one?" he asked, stealing an arm around her lithe figure. " I cannot see." "There! dear heart," she murmured in a low voice, stretching out her shapely hand. " Ah ! now I see it, sweetheart ; mine eyes were attracted by thy pretty arm," he said, caressing it. " Now we can count the days to our wedding." " How quickly the times flies, my betrothed," she sighed. " Ay,- the day will soon be here. I must hasten with our whare (hut) the poles are all cut 'and sufficient raupo collected; Pomare a:'d Kiwi have promised to help me on the morrow." '" Dost th^u still long for thine own country?" she asked, a little wistfully. " Yes, Hirawani, more and more every day . Dost thou repent thy promise to fly with me?" "Nay, Kereama, I would go with thee, this very night if. Thou wished it. But I could be very happy with thee liere at Parahaki, O generous heart." " So would Ij darling, if we were allowed to live quietly and at peace; but thou knowest that even now they are preparing another raid. My heart sickens at so much strife and bloodshed. Good-night, sweetheart." " Good-night, my Kereama." She left reluctantly, and had a last view of him before the forest intervened, gazing over the valley at the distant Tangi-hua mountains, which now glowed pink in the sunset.---"A glorious country," muttered Graham to himself, "Where only man is vile. Who could believe that yon noble range and this magnificent forest are peopled by cannibals? What a contradiction that so fair a country should [ breed so barbarous .a people." Several days later lie sat upon the same spot— in fact he came to this secluded nook each evening to converse with his betrothed, and rest after his day's labour. The whare was almost completed, and to-nigkt he wore some new garments woven for him by Te Puia's wife. Hirawani was late, and he was wondering what kept her, when her light footfall' caught his expectant ear, but he noticed that it was hurried to-night.---"Ah!" thought Graham, "that is because she is late, she usually time© her coming by the weka's call, and that sounded long since." - "What has kept thee, Hirawani?" he asked, rising to greet her. "I have news for thee, Kereama!" she panted, breathlessly. "Great news!" "What! Is the war party to start before our wedding?" he asked, seeing I that her face was pale and agitated. "Nay, it has come!" she gasped. Graham was surprised to see that her beautiful eyes were dilated with excitement, her hands trembled, and her j voice so shook with fear that she could j hardly articulate. . "Why, sweetheart! Thou art trembling," said Graham, taking her two hands in his. " Art thou afraid of the Ngapuhi attacking us?" With an effort, Hirawani controlled her agitation. "Kereama, it has come! "The Ngapuhi taua?" " No, thy hipi !" n . , . "What!" exclaimed Graham, starting to his feet in the wildest excitement. "Is it a ship?" "It is indeed!" " Off the coast here?" "Not here— far away to the north "Art thou quite sure?" ¥ asked with 'deadful earnestness, a wild joy illuminating his face. , , " Pomare brought the news. I heard him tell my father that a great Pakeha canoe had been seen, with masts line kauri rikas (young pines) and^saiis so vast that they covered the sky. "Is she coming this way, down the coast?" , , "He did not say; but it had some timbers broken; and the Ngapuhi, m whose country it is, have shown the Pakehas where kauris may be obtained. My father thinks this is : but a stratagem of the Ngapuhi to entice the white men into the forest, where/ they will murder them.' . „ " If the ship hath put in for repairs, said Graham, his thoughts working like lightning, "it may be detained many days, and that will give us time to reach her. How far off is she?" . .. . " The Ngapuhi country is away in the far north, and borders the east cpa 8 *- They were a whole month coming hither at the last raid; though journeying much by sea in their great war-canoes. "On the east coast, didst thou say? j replied Graham, concentrating his brain with terrible earnestness on the <lues-.I ue s-. tion of the best route to take. 'Te Puia told me it was broken into many bays and more 'thickly inhabited, than the west. How ebuld we obtain a canoe, or pass along the shore without 1 being attaoked?" i
" Why not paddle up the west coast, Kereama, and then cross over? There are no tribes living on the desert shore." " That is out of the question, Hirawani. At this season it is a stormy coast. We could never launch a canoe through these great rollers or keep her from being swamped in the tempestuous sea." " I once heard Pomare say that the great northern river — much larger than any thou hast seen — the Waiponga, takes its rise in the Ngapuhi country. Could we not travel that way, Kereama?" " Now thou givest me hope, Hirawani," said Graham, his eyes glowing with excitement. "Te Puia told me that this Kaipara harbour is shaped like a man's left nand; his wrist represents its wide entrance, and the fingers are rivers running in from all sides. If my thumb were the Waikorau," he explained, " then my little finger would be this great river thou speakes^ of, running from the far north." " Ay, that is it, the Waiponga." " Now, if we could find one" of these canoes hidden near the Waikorau " " Yes," interrupted Hirawana, eagerly, "I can easily find them, I know the exact spot where they were secreted." "In this canoe, then," continued Graham, vehemently, "we can paddle down into the Kaipara harbour, cross over, and then follow up this Waiponga into the Ngapuhi country. Why, that will be almost a straight line, from south to north." " It is a long journey, Kereama, and took the Ngapuhi a whole month to accomplish." "Yes, dear heart; but they stayed by the way to capture Ruapeka pa, and feasted many days. It cannot be so very far, for I saw a chart of the country when on board the Elizabeth, just before she drove ashore, and calculated then we had not two hundred miles to clear the north cape. With the canoe we should travel tmrty miles a day, it cannot be distant, therefore, more than a week's journey." " There are many fierce tribes living on the Waiponga, and we must paddle against the s£ream — it is far larger and swifter than fhe Waikorau." "Courage, sweetheart!" cried Graham, hopefully. "Shall I not be at thy side?" . ' "I fear that we shall never reach the Ngapuhi country, 0 generous heart. Thou wilt be killed by the way. Cannot we wait two little days?' Thou wouldst then be my husband, and my father could not refuse to give thee fifty warriors to make a raid against the Ngapuhi." 1 "I fear thy father will be less inclined than ever to let me depart, sweetheart. He hath no son to succeeu him, and told me that when we are wed I must be his successor. No, I am certain he would never let me go, and if I remain here as his fighting chief the chances are that I should perish in some expedition — -.are we not always at war ? But if we escape to mine own country our days may end in peace and happiness." "When wilt thou start?" she asked resignedly. "1 gave thee my word, and cannot retract; am I not the daughter of Hauraki?" t ".We must start to-night — at once!" "So soon? But thou art right." She seemed to brace herself for the effort. "I cannot break my word; I I am a rangatira of the groat Kaipaja." \ She held her head' proudly, tbbugh Graham Saw the tears upon her cheek. At this sight his heart smote him with compassion. So engrossed had he been in planning his own escape that he had overlooked the sacrifice asked of the young girl. Though to him a blessed release from a life he loathed and abhorred, what did it not mean to Hirawani? She would have to leave father, mother, and the friends of her childhood for ever : without even saying farewell, and fly with him te a I foreign land, 'where she must live ! among strangers. Here, next to her mother, she was the most important woman in the tribe; and, in exchange, what position did he offer her? That of a wanderer and outcast. He explained all this to Hirawani, briefly, perhaps a little harshly, so anxious was he that she should quite understand. '.'Here, thoii art a princess; but w*>en we land in my country thou wilt be nobody." "Shall I not be thy wife, Kereama P" she asked, simply. "What then? The wife of a beggar, shunned by thy white sisters. J Nay, Hirawani, I give v > thee . back thy promise, a promise made in ignorance of all that it involved. Choose as if no such vow had ever been uttered." "I wonld rather be thy slave in another land, Kereama, than a princess here without thee. Lead the way, J. follow." • " Come then, my own darling, we ' must prepare; and I vow in return for thy devotion to be true to thee till death." Taking her in his arms, he pressed her passionately to his heart. No trace of tears could he see in the radiant face that now looked up to nis in the bright moonlight. "Which way shall. we depart, Kereama? Along the ridges and over the Hawk's nest?" j " That may be the shortest route," I replied Graham, pondering deeply over the momentous question, " but I am not well versed in forest craft and might lose my way; besides, I should leave a trail through the bush which any boy in the tribe could follow." " We might reach the upper waters of the Waikorau by daybreak," said Hirawani, " but I know not if any canoes are to be found in the old hiding places, and the forest along the banks is too dense for travelling." "I could walk better in the open," said Graham, anxiously. " Cannot we go by the sea coast, follow it to the north, and then cross the sandhills to where we left the canoes near Hinangi?" : " Ay, that is by far the best plan," replied Hirawaui, decidedly. "If we walk along the beach below high water mark the waves, when the tide rises, will wash away our foot-marks." : The lovers started off at once, just \ as they stood; they did not dare to > enter the pj* for food or extra cloth- j ing. ... Keeping in the shadow, they ; skirted round the palisades, until they ; reached the hill path, which was gained without attracting attention. On >' nearing the bend which would shut out one view of Parahaki, perhaps for ; ever, Hirawani took her betrothed's • hand. > " Keep a firm hold, Kereama, while j I take a last 100k — do not let go." She turned and gazed long at the pld familiar place. However distasteful and savage the fortress might appear to Kereama, with its encircling head-posts of grinning monsters, it was the home of her childhood, where she had spent many happy days. Did it not contain father, mother, relative* and friends? All that was dear to her —all save one; and at the thought her fingers tightened convulsively. Wap she not .abandoning everything for the sake- of that oneP ( The moon cast her slatititig : b>nn J .j'vot the precipitous slopes 'of^Para :
haki, illuminating every . prominent j peak, fern bank, bush-crowned knoll, and lofty tree-top with a soft effulgence, throwing a dark curtain across j each gully and slope, that added mys- j tery to their sylvan depths, flinging hard, black shadows over the face of beetling crag, and cliff, until they looked more rugged than in the noonday sun, gilding each post and effigy in the pa with an edge of silver, and reflecting from the sloping roofs a flood of dazzling light-. Her bright rays fell upon the figures of Hirawani and her betrothed, who, for the space of a minute, stood as silent and motionless as the palisades above them. Hirawani's youthful figure inclined towards^ the pa, as, with head turned over her sHoulder and uplifted arm, she gazed yearningly towards the whare t where dwelt her father and mother. The outstretched hand began to tremble ; tear drops, shining like pearls in the moonlight, coursed down her fair cheek, and words of endearment, half stifled by the rising sobs, fell from her quivering lips. Graham, guessing how cruelly she j suffered, drew her gently away towards the forest path, and he felt her^ bosom heave with choking sobs as she clung i closely to his side. " Hei kona, hei kona !" (farewell) she murmured. CHAPTER XXIX. THE SEA SHORE. Graham allowed Hirawani's grief' to have free vent for several minutes, as he. descended the mountain path with her clinging close to his side ; but when the sobs became less violent, he recalled to her the first occasion on which they had climbed the hill' together, nearly a year ago. "I was then afraid to lean on thy slender figure, Hirawani, for fear my weight should hurt thee." " Ay, Kereama* I thought that day we should never gain the pa; thy white feet seemed so strange to me — they were far whiter then, dear. It made my heart bleed to see how cruollv the rocks had torn them ; they looked too delicate to. walk on the rough ground." " I wore a covering on my feet until cast ashore, which prevented their being burnt by the sun. At first they ,werß, v yery tender." • " I did not know that ; but I thought thou wert a God, accustomed only to walk ou the soft, white clouds of heaven, and why thou hadst fallen to earth was past my understanding." " And now, sweetheart, thou hast found that I am but a man, and selfish, as are all menj\am I not tearing thee away from thy home?" "When I thought thee a God, I feared thee, Kereama; but as the truth dawned upon me that thou wert indeed a man, my fear gradually departed, and in its place my love grew — and now! Thou art my very own." " When I first saw thee, Hirawani, thou didst look so fair and beautiful that I thought thee and thy mother were of a different race from these other Maoris, and I think so still." These loving reminiscences diverted the maiden's thoughts from her home,, leaving, and turned her attention to i the dangers and difficulties which more j immediately confronted them. On entering the dense forest, Graham asked her to -lead the way. " Thou knowest the track better than I," he explained. " Ay, Kereama ; if we keep well to the beaten path, the slaves passing over to-morrow morning on their way to the kumara fields will obliterate all our tracks." "Wilt thou be missed to-night P" asked Graham, who feared that a searching party might be sent after them at any moment. "They, will not miss me until the morning, and but for the arrival of this j hipi, would not suspect our desertion. Thou hast often railed -against this land of t^e Maori in my mother's hearing, which w^ll make her suspect the truth. But I fear when Hauraki hears that both are gone, he will send runners after us all over the country." They crossed the river, ascended the opposite hill, and reached the kumara fields in safety. Here Hirawani loaded two baskets with sweet potatoes and taro, which she slung over her back and set off for the sand-hills. Graham, delayed by a search for fish-hooks and lines, soon followed, but was distressed to see her slight figure bending under the load. He endeavoured to take the baskets from her. " Thou must let me carry these, Hirawani; they are too heavy for thee." " It is not meet for a chief to carry food on his back. Nothing but ill-luck will attend us if I allow thee to ao it," she said, loosening his fingers from the handle. "It is the woman's duty to carry the food." "Thou couldst never bear such a load, thy back has not been bent to slave's work, sweet love," he replied, persisting in his endeavours to obtain possession of the baskets. "It will chafe thy tender skin." " Now that I have left my home, I am no longer a princess. We are but wanderers, and I must learn my part j before we reach thy country." I "In the land whence I came, and whither, pray ; Heaven, thou art now travelling, dear heart, a chief would be for ever disgraced if he allowed a woman to carry such a load for him. luou hast now to learn the customs of my country." Gently disengaging her pretty fingers, he lifted the load to his own broad shoulders. Hirawani gave up the baskets with a protest. All, the great chiefs she had known would have preferred death to so great an indignity, and would have faced any danger rather than incur the wrath of the gods by committing such a foolhardy breach of their most sacred customs. She feared disasterwould follow them. All this she explained to Kereama, but' she could not persuade him. to give the load back. By daybreak they had crossed the sandhills and reached the seashore. Fortunately, the tide came in. By keeping close to the water's edge, their footsteps were almost , immediately obliterated. Graham knew their tracks i must be discovered where crossing the sandhills: it was, therefore, only a question of time before they would be followed,. and not a moment of time was to be 'wasted if they- were to distance j their pursuers. . • . " Even if our tracks should be lost on the seashore, Hirawani, they would ! naturally turn northwards, expecting us to go in that direction, because of the ship. How long will it take them to reach the coast?" "They cannot possibly arrive- here j before midday. We are safe till then." After travelling ten miles along the sandy beach, they reached a low reef running into, the sea. Keeping as far Dut as the water permitted, they climbed on to the, bare rocks,, and, turning shoreward, scaled a precipitous bluff. ipon the smooth surf" ">f which their bare feet left no trail. Upon gaining
the hill top, they crept into a thick bunch of bracken", which quite concealed them from view. Graham thought it safer to lie hidden until darkness cotw ered their further flight, and. it was time to rest after their long night march. Lying side by side on the breezy, bank > the hot sun and murmuring ocean soon lulled them to sleep. Graham thought he had only just closed his reyes "when Hirawani woke him. " Look yonder !" she whispered, pointing to several figures approaching along the sea beach. " Who are they?" asked Graham, in a low voice. " Some of our people, looking for n». See how they spread out^ and 'search every yard of sand." . . •■ . < "Our escape must have been discovered soon after we left last night, for them to .be so close behind — we travelled pretty fast. Perhaps they are not , after us. It may only be a fishing party come this way, looking for toheroas in the sand beds." " Nay, there has been ample time for Hauraki to send out search parties." "Ample time? I did not sleep five minutes." "Five minutest Thou has slept more than five hours. I had not the heart to waken thee from thy peaceful slumber. See how high the sun is." "Thou art right, Hirawani. But I should have been waked long ago; I meant to keep watch. My sloth hath ruined all our plans. . Can we not creep away through the fern?" ; "Lie still, they have not found 'us yet. The fern does not extend far, and we could not escape discovery for five minutes on the bare band beyond." ' When their pursuers approached aearer, Hirawani recognised . Kiwi, leading about twenty young men., all of whom were known to her. Resistance was out of the question ; for, beside* being hopelessly outnmbered, Graham ' could never have brought himself to raise his sword against these- youths, who had been his best friends but yes--terday. Their only chance of escape, therefore, lay in concealment. The band approached Graham distinctly overheard their conversation. Kiwi, passing the • reef with some of his companions, appeared to be in a hurry, but the two who came next loitered on the rocks. ■ Graham heard one remark to his companion that if the fugitives wished to turn inland ft better spot could not have been chosen. They then began to climb the very rocks above which the two laj concealed. . Graham's heart sank. It was now only the matter of a few minutes whoa they must be discovered. His eyes, .full of despair, met Hirawani' s; but she warned him not to: move.Meanwhile, Kiwi i, had left the reel some distance behind him,. ; and , ; Gra»ham heard him calling to the others to hasten, or they woud not reach the. camping ground at Pipi Beach before nightfall. . , • The two had come so close by tJus time that Graham could distmotjf hear their panting breath/ . "Why should • we trouble to.flnA v them?" said young .Kawai, the Bound-, ing Fish: " " Kerj&ania was ever good te us; he will return of his own accord when he thinks fit. Why should w« pursue him, as if he were a ttueri' "Ay, brother. It is hard that * man cannot' accompany ,his bride through the forest without the whole tribe spying after him," replied Tartara (the wrestler).: " Give me a hoist on to the top, Tartara. I may see the tracks through yon fern patch. Hauraki will require a minute description of our quest, aiW is certain to ask whether we searched this bluff." "Why fatigue thyself, Kawai, in an enterprise where success will . only bring thee remorse? • Kiwi is calling again; if he does not order us to search the bluff Hauraki canuot lay the blame on thee. Come, let us rejoin the others." . A slight pause ensued, during wnicn Kawai wavered. It seemed an age to Graham, who listened with straining ears, before the slight sound made by naked feet on the rocks agam caught his attention. He held his breath, and sighed with relief when he recognised that the foetsteps retreated. • Then, venturing to peep out^ he saw the young men hastening after their comrades, and before many minutes the whole party disappeared round tne next headland. . . Still trembling with the anxiety or their narrow escape, Graham slowly raised himself to his knees. "It is a mercy Kiwi was not very keen, else he must certainly have found us. How far is it to if ipl Beach?" . . . " Nearly half, a day's march from this" replied Hirawani, venturing to stand upright and survey the coast " They are quite out of sight now, Kereama." - " I must see about cooking our potatoes," he replied, looking round for a sheltered spot in which to make a fire " That hollew in the sandhills will be the best place; it is quite screened from the beach." "This reef is a noted spot for mussels; I will go for a supply," said the young girl, eager to perform the domestic duties which fall to- the lot of a Maori wife. " Not until thou hast had some sleep, sweetheart. It will take me a long f time to prepare the fire." " Nay, I am not tired, my betrothed; it is the woman's place to bring fish to her lord." . "It is thy place to obey me, dearest; thSu must rest here in the warm sun, and perhaps to-night we may get a supply of mussels.'" He gently but firmly compelled her to lie on the springy couch. "Do not go far, dear heart — promise not to go out of sight P ' " I will not leave the hollow yonder, Hirawani," and, kissing her, he set about making the fire while she slept. He had often assisted in this operation when fishing along the coast with Pomare; but improved upon the somewhat tedious method practised by the Maoris by putting into use a process that he" had learnt from Mr Wilson on board the Elizabeth. His appliances ' . were few and easily found. With a pliant twig and piece of fishing line he made a small bow; a round stick, pointed at both ends, served for ft Bpindle. This latter, together with a block of wood in which he scraped ft hollow, he carefully selected of dry mahoe. By working his bow backwards and forwards iie made the spindle revolve rapidly; and the point, pressed down on the block, soon became hot; turning the bow yet faster, it began to smoke, and with a little judicious blowing presently burst into flame. A bright fire.', soon blazed on %he sand, giving out no v particle of smoke,- so dry was the drift wood. Running down •to the beach he returned laden with round- stones, whioh he placed in a shallow hole, scooped
eat in the sand; on these ho laid burning brands and sticks, until he had » good tiro established in tho cavity; above these he heaped more stones, and piling a quantity of drift wood aver c^e whole he returned bo the beach. Baiting his hook with a small mu«---••1 he climbed out along the reef till be reached a perpendicular cliff from which to cast the line, and within an hour had caught several fine/rock cod, which he carried back to the fire in triumph. " The luck is not against thee, Kereama," said Hirawani, who had risen from her fern bed to meet him. "No, I never knew the fish to bite bo keenly," he replied, holding out the bunch for her to inspect. "Hast j thou had a refreshing slumber, sweetheart P" "Yes, I hare quite recovered the fatigue of last night. When we have j eaten I shall be ready to continue our i journey." she answered, and, sitting down by the fire, she began to scrape the potatoes with a pipx shell, held between her fingers and tthumb. Graham, removing all the ashes and embers from the hole, threw in a layer «f lnaves, poured on a little water, which raised a steam from the hot ■tones, then put in the potatoes and ; fish, another layer of leaves, more hot atones on top of these, and covered up the whole with sand. While the Maori hangi (oven) was baking, he accompanied Hirawani down to the reef, and the tide being out, they collected a good 3upply of mu3--•els These were roasted in the ashes, and Hirawani, presently opening the oven, they found the potatoes and fish cooked to a turn. The two fugitives, sitting side by side on the loose sand, thoroughly enjoyed their simple repast. " Why didst thou tell me not to cook rJI tne potatoes?" asked Graham. " We may not again find such dry firewood; it burned without a particle of smoke.' 7 "That ia true, Kereama; and nothing would betray our presence sooner than a fire of . green wood. But. the kumar&s carry best raw, and there are enough baked to last us two days." "It will soon be dark, Hirawani; dost thou feel up to a long march tonight?" . . "Ay, Kereama; thou didst insist on carrying my load, so that I have had nought weary me," replied his companion, cheerfully. She had cut a few leaves from a flax bush, and sat, deftly .weaving them into a'kete (basket). "Art thou sure of tho point where wa must cross these sandhills to strike , the canoes?" f " Yes, quite sure; I know every yard lof this coast. It is here we camp each summer ; the finest flax for making our ketes comes from this shore." . When the bftket was finished, Graham allowed her to carry in it the fish and some of the cooked potatoes—- she ; was very urgent upon this pomt — i though he insisted on bearing the principal 'load himself. Having extinguished the fire with sand, he made preparations to start. Then, for an hour, they marched briskly forward, Until another bluff, higher, and steeper than the last, barred their way. Hirawani, light and active as a deer, soon gained the sum- ■ m it — the rising tide had quite covered j the sands— where she stood on, a great ! flat boulder. Graham, encumbered i with his heavy load, found it a rather stiff climb, and paused to regain his breath on a ledge a little below her. She stood, pointing with one hand : towards the rising moon, which just showed its broad disc over a distant range of hills. Hirawani's graceful figure and delicate features, softly out- j lined by the moonbeams against the <|ark vault of heaven, held him spellbound. A light dog-skin cloak hung picturesquely from her left shoulder, waving the right arm bare; below this appeared a petticoat of dressed flax, the long, loose strands reaching nearly to her knees. Her dark hair, decorated with a few gay feathers, hung in waving masses down her back and below her waist, and a circlet df waekahu (hawk's foot) twined round her low brow like a coronet. "Kereama!" she cried, as he climbed the ascent; and stood on the boulder beside, herv "Dost thou see — over yonder P" She pointed to the east. "What is it, Hirawani?" he replied, Betting down his heavy basket and passing his hand over her beautiful hair. "The moon," she whispered, pressing closer to his side. " Yes, I see the moon ; what of it, dearest? She is quite full to-night." " Hast thou forgotten, dear heart? It is our wedding moon." She laid her head a little shyly against his shoulder. "Of course it isl — my little wife," he murmured., folding her closely in his arms and sealing the vow upon her lips. " Thou art now indeed my husband, Kereama ; no one can take thee from me, not even Rokino." Thus was the simple marriage rite, which, among these primitive people, bound a man and woman together in bonds of matrimony, ratified between Kereama and Hirawani. These bonds. though so lightly tied, could not be broken without incurring the heaviest penalty — the unfaithful husband or wife was punished with death. 'Twas a strange wedding between Kereama and Hirawani on the wild sea shore ! For altar, a solitary boulder, perched on the wave-girt reef, overhung by a frowning cliff or dark, weather-stained rook, their vows scarcely audible above the murmur of . great billows rolling in from the wide Pacific. The seal of matrimony unwitnessed, save by a wandering sea bird, that fcipped the silver-crested waves with outstretched pinions, as it circled round the bleak headland. Over all, the liniitles3 vault of hoayon, pierced with a million diamond points. CHAPTER XXX. KAIPABA'S WATEK3. Gr*ham found the descent from this rocky point even more difficult than the ascent, and but for the moon's light he would hardly have reached tho ground without a fall. Hirawani, - mor-9 agile, thought nothing of it, and led him without accident along *bbc sea beach to the track which crossed the landbille. Before leaving the shore she gathered her kete full of mussels, which she insisted on carrying, and, as it was no great distance to the place where Graham hoped to find the canoes, he humoured her. But he saw that the laboui tried her strength, and vowed to himself that she should not do it . again. On this, the first day of her wedded life, he had not tho heart to thwart her. • , She guided him to tho creek, a littlo above where the canoes had been hidden ; but as' Graham found the forest bordering its banks too dense to , traverse in the dark he decided to await the morning; and, choosing a spot where the ground was covered with a thick carpet of moss, they rested. Feeling secure from pursuit in the secluded dell, they kept no watch, : and, weary with the long march, slept side by side until the sen had risen. ' In the morning great caution had to bs observed in approaching the canoes. Hirawani feared their pursuers might have divined their intentions and be lying in wait, but her apprehensions were groundless. Selecting a small vessel that would, serve their purpose, they pushed off down the winding stream, m&kiag for ite junction with the Waikorau. Since overhearing the conversation between Xavai *ad Tatars, Graham i
did not fear pursuit so much. It was evident that the party were not very eager to capture them. He therefore ventured to paddle down the Waikorau in open daylight, only taking the precaution to skirt close round the mangrove bushes when opening out each new reach, to make sure they were alone before pushing boldly into mid stream. " The tide is in our favour, Hirawani. I think lam right in believing that what is unlucky for a MaoTi does not bring a pakeha disaster. We have i met with good luck only since starting." ■'■ " I hope so," she replied doubtingly, " bat for a chief to carry food on his back is an ill-omened action beyond all i precedent ; I pray thou mayst be right, Kereama." " Fear not, my princess. In my i country we put no faith in omens. How ! far is it from Hinangi beach to the Kaipara entrance P" " Dost thou mean the two headlands through which the sea flows — sometimes with great white-topped waves?" "Yes, the harbour mouth." "Only a morning's paddle; we should reach the south head before dark." " At this rate of travel we shall not gain the Ngapuhi country in a month," ■ muttered Graham, anxiously. " Although our march yesterday measured twenty_-five miles, when allowance is made for all the twistings and turnings we > have not advanced fifteen towards the north." "Do not be cast down, dear. See how fast we travel now ; and if Hauraki doth not send a canoe in pursuit by midday they cannot catch us up before we are across the harbour." Acting on this hint, Graham chose the swiftest current, and struck out boldly into mid-stream. As he only feared being followed, he considered it safer to travel at speed than to skulk round tho mangroves. So rapidly did they glide down stream that Hinangi was passed before midday and a creek near Kaipara Heads reached beforo sundown. Here they rested, and, fearful of lighting a fire lest it should be seen" by the hostile Natives whese country they approached, they had to eat a cold supper. Graham now fully realised that a most difficult enterprise lay before him. Hitherto all fos energies had been directed to the consummation of his escape from Parahaki and the Kaipara, whom he felt sure must be scouring the country after him. They had now reached the furthest limit of the tribal sway to the north, the wide entrance to Kaipara Harbour, which he must cross in a light canoo. This was a perilous enough undertaking in broad daylight, but would be ten times more hazardous in the dark. On the further side they would enter an enemy's country, inhabited by the fierce Wairoa., where every man's hand would be against them. The fate of capture by the Kaipara, only meant a return to his old life of fighting chief to Hanraki; but an encounter with hostilf natives in the country through which they must now travel to reach their goal, meant death or slavery. He well knew that if "they wore onco seen, every tribe would bo warned, and they would be relentlessly pursued until slain or captured. The wide strait, exposed on one side to the open sea, was overlooked by high land on either shore. It would, therefore, be necessary to cross over in the dark. " I shall never be taken alive while I have my sword,", said Graham, as he sat by Hirawani's side awaiting the darkness. " Of that there is no fear, Kereama. I A chief cannot be enslaved; it is too great an indignity, they are always slain.!' " There is some consolation in that. I can imagine nx> worse fate on earth than to be a slave to such cruel mas+ors." " When a great chief is killed, they take off his head and set it on a post for the whole tribe to insult; I could not endure such a sight Kereama." The dreadful picture which her imagination conjured, made her shudder. "Da not be afraid, sweetheart, our good fortune may yet hold. At any cost, even if our journey has to be delayed, we must avoid these Wairoa. Do they only inhabit the lower part of tho Waiponga?" "Yes; but they have a great pa at the further headland, we must, therefore, pass it in the dark — before the moon rises." Soon after dusk they set forth, and skirted along shore until opposite the wide entrance ; on one side the boundless Pacific, and upon the otter, Kaipara's wide harbour. The weather, fortunately, proved fine, and the sea, except for a long swell, quite calm. Graham could not help feeling nervous as they put out into the open water, and he remembered the disastrous results that attended him when last he tempted the ocean in a canoe; j and the opposite shore, though high and bold, looked very distant. "Is it safe in this open canoe?" ho asked anxiously. ■ j " Safe ? Of course it is— how can there be any dauger, the sea is quite calm," answered Hirawani, surprised at such ! a question. j "It is calm now; but if the sea rosq. \ we sSould bo swamped." ! " That is true, but we could easily ! swim into smooth water again." j "You might be able to, Hirawani," i replied Graham, somewhat reassured by \ her confident manner ; " but remember, : we white people are not brought up to i the water from infancy like you i •Maoris." j "There is no danger. Kereama; l| have often gone out in a rougher sea j just for sport. But we must ply our ; paddles, there 'is not much time to cross > before the moon rises." j " In this smooth sea it will not take I long," replied Graham, ■ digging his ; paddle into the dark waves. " The wind is in our faces, but there is not much of it." He could not but adiuiro the adroit manner in which Hirawani steered over the long rollers, which increased in j height as they neared mid-channel. I | Not a drop of water came in. . Still, he j was not sorry to see the waves diminish in size when "the middle was passed, and they neared the noxthern headland. "Hush!" whispered Hirawani, holding her paddle. " Didst thou hear anything? 7 Graham held his breath and listened. In a few moments, a sound, like that of men singing iir chorus, was wafted across the water. "What is it, Hirawani?" "A canoe song, it grows louder each moment. Wait till we hear more plainly." \ As she ceased speaking, the song was | again wafted to them, this time with a clearness that quite startled Graham. When the chorus was ended he could hear a single voice continue the refrain, the plaintive melody rising and falling i over the dark billows with the varying j I breeze. J i "Kereama! there is a war canoo i coming right down upon usl". cried Hirawani in tenor. " Tbev r cannot miss sseing us. Quick! jump out and sw*amp the canoe!" f j In a moment she was over the side. Graham followed unquestioning, though he felt nervous at what seemed so suicidal a proceeding. j Bearing : down one side, the canoe soon filled, and floated with the gunwale only an inch or two above the but-? face. Meanwhile tho war canoe ap- j proacbed fast, and tho paddlos' mea- i sured stroke could be distinctly heard. ; " Had we not better swim put of -th© , «ray?' r whispered Graham. j " There may be more than one," she I replied, anxiously. " Wait till we see." '
The canoe now came in eight, long and low, with high stern-post standing out distinctly against the dark sky, the upright form of the chief who sang the canoe-song just discernible in the bows, swaying his body backwards and forwards to give the rowers an exact rhythm. She would pass about twenty yards to their left. " Swim on thy back, Kereama, with just thy face above water; they have the eyes of hawks." Maintaining this position, Graham watched the stately canoe approach. A wave of white foam curled from the prow, and every paddle . struck the water in exact time. Whilst thus engaged, a similar sound, but from the opposite side, caught his ear, and turning, he not only saw another passing to his right, but a third at some distance behind and making straight for them. Nearer and nearer it came, until the white spray spouting from the bow was scarce a yard off. Hirawani pressed Graham's shoulder down, which he understood as a signal to dive. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself under, remained below for fully a minute, and came to the surface just in the wake of this third canoe. It must have passed right over them. Shaking the water from his face, Granam looked round, but no other canoe appeared in sight. Watching those which had passed vanish in the darkness, he distinctly heard the rowers curse their water-logged vessel, against which some of the paddles had struck. To Graham, their position was even now very alarming. Swimming in the open sea beside their swamped canoe ; rising and falling on the long swell ; far from the land; with the ebbing tide carrying them out towards the ocean, and the nearest shore inhabited by enemies. But Hirawani took it so coolly, and told him what to do with such confidence, that he regained his courage. In a few minutes the canoe was bailed out, and they were seated in their places, paddling for the land, no woisp for the strange adventure. Half an hour's labour brought them to the northern shore, a sandy, barren coast, which they skirted until well beyond the hostile pa, the palisades of whicu could be seen crowning a lofty eminence. Graham's attention was then attracted by the appearance of lights just round a bold headland. "Is that another pa?" he asked, holding his paddle. '•' No, the tights are too near the water's edge ; I think it may be the camp fires of that party which crossed us in tne straits. If they are deserted, let us go- ashore to dry our clothes." Approaching the fires warily, and seeing no one about, they landed and drew their canoe above .high watermark. Graham then crept cautiously inland, followed closely by Hirawani, until they had the fires between them and the sea. No living creature could be seen. The camp was quite abandoned. Standing before the largest fire, now a mass of glowing embers with a few burning brands scattered around, the two Tenderers dried their wet clothes. "Was that a raiding party of Wairoa3?" asked Graham, spreading out his hands to enjoy the warmth. " Ay, there must have been full two hundred warriors. Didst thou hear the song, extolling the mighty deeds of each chief, and boasting how many warriors followed in his train?" "I was too occupied in keeping out of their sight. It's a mercy we did not meet them on the river." "We are again fortunate, notwithstanding thy carrying the food," answered Hirawani. "Now the settlements along the Waiponga will be deserted." "They were making directly for the other side ; does not that look like an attack on the Kaipara?" " Yec, Kereama, but we always defeated the Wairoa, even on their own river, until two years ago,, when, owing to my father having lost his sight, they made a successful raid into our country. However, Hauraki will give them a different reception this time. If I be not mistaken, they will find him nr.ore than a match." They remained by the fire long epough to dry their wet garments, and, ia consequence, set out on their journey up the Waikorau in better spirits. Before leaving, Hirawani picked up a burning brand, which she carried down to the canoe. ' " That will never keep alight," said Graham, who thought she carried it to save the trouble of making fire at the next encampment. " No, but it will serve till we catch some fish." " How?" asked Graham, incredulously; "1 have no spear." "I will show thoe presently," she replied, as they pushed off from the shore. At some distance from the beach she stopped paddling, and directed Grai ham to tilt the canoe over on one side. The sea, sheltered by high land, was so calm as to enable him to do this with safety. Hirawani then blew up the torch into a bright flame. Telling Graham to paddle slowly forward, she | held it near the water and waited ! patiently. All at once a large fish I leapt out of the sea towards the flaring , brand, but, with a great splash, it 'fell clear of the canoe into the water ! beyond. Almost immediately after- | wards two rose simultaneously. One | tumbled into the canoe, and the other, i striking Graham across tho face, fell : down between his feet. i " Hold thy paddle up, Kereama, and j knock them into the canoe." I Following her directions, while the J two fish flapped violently about his feet i ho struck several down, and no fewer j than eight were secured before the toroh was burnt out. j Thus provisioned, they journeyed . onward, through the night, having ad- ; vanced some miles up the great Waiponga River before a grey light in the east warned them of approaching day. A convenient landing-place presenting itself, they forced their canoe through a screen of mangroves, stepped ashore, I and concealed it from view in a bed of reeds. Tired out with their long journey. Graham gathered some fern for a bed^ which he made''under the thick growth of bushes. Too weary to cook the fish, they fell asleep at once, and did not Yrake until long after midday. After looking in the reed bed to make sure the canoe had not been disturbed', Hirawani went some distance inland to examine the country and see if ifc were safe to light a fire 3 while Graham made the necessary preparations. "We are on the edge of a largo kahikatea flat," said Hirawani, returning after a few minutes. Ct There U no danger of anyone approaching fiom that side. If we go back some distance from the river it will be quite ■ safe to light a fire." " Would not the smoke be aeon from the river by a passing canoe P" "No; the kahikateas rise up like a wall; they could not see beyond the tops of those which border the stream. " : " Oome,then," said Graham, " I hare everything ready. The tide does not i flow till after dark ; we shall have plenty of time for our cocking." I Penetrating the pine flat for a few hundred yards, a convenient spot was re n>hed on whioh to build their fire, and the fioh were soon broiling on i wooden spits. There were no stones foi a hangi ; the potatoes had, therefore, to be roasted in the ashes, and the remaining fish were dried over the smoke to ensure their keeping. When the tide had turned Graham launched the oanoej and they skirted
close to the mangrove bushes to be well out of sight, for, as the river grew narrower, they saw signs of cultivation upon the banks, and advanced further and further into the enemy's country. In the darkness before the moon rose they were sometimes puzzled to know i which was the main channel, and more than once stuck on the mud banks. However, with the flowing tide there was little difficulty in getting off again. Another source of delay was occasioned by following some tributary of the "Waiponga instead of keeping to the i main stream. The darkness prevented j these mistakes being discovered until 'the narrowing channel warned them of . the error. Although this river flowed : from the north, the channel was so i winding that the moon appeared sometimes in front and sometimes behind ; thus were they often deceived, taking i the channel which led due north in their anxiety to reach the Ngapuhi \ country, where the river turned east or west. Travelling chiefly by night, they i gained the upper waters of this great river, where the stream was hemmed in by dense forests and high banks. Several times they missed being seen by passing canoes, and owed their escape to the close growing mangrove busheß among which they hid until the danger was passed. In the upper reaches, where these havens of refuge entirely disappeared, the villages fortunately became scarcer. In three days they reached the tide limit. Graham had now to paddle continually against the current, the river being often so swift and full of shallows that little progress could be made, and they had to run the additional risk of travelling in the day. On the fourth morning, after creeping past a village perched high up at some distance from the bank, their advance was stopped by coming face to face with a great waterfall, the wide river descending from the rooks above in one mighty leap. " This is an obstacle that I did not expect," cried Graham in despair. "I was congratulating myself on our having left the villages behind, but this is a far greater hindrance." "Courage, brave heart!" said Hirawani, stepping a little wearily from the canoe. "We cannot be far from the Ngapuhi country." "It is sis days since we started, and I calculate we have not covered a hundred'miles. 1 fear the ship may be gone before we reach the east coast." " We oould not have travelled faster, and have been favoured by the tides, besides miraculously escaping the Wairoa. There may be a track round this fall, over which we can haul the canoe." "I. have forced thee to travel too fast, dear heart ; rest here, by the canoe, while 1 search for the portage." " l^et me go with thee, Kereama," she pleaded. " Nay, it were better for thee to rest. I must see what the river is like above; it may not be worth our while to take the canoe further. See, there is a soft bed of moss for thee to lie; upon." Having kissed her tenderly j he disappeared through the bushes. Beyond the fall he found the river smooth and tranquil, though with a rapid current. ' He discovered a wellbeaten track, evidently used for a portage, and concluded that the upper waters must be favourable for the passage of canoes; Returning from his, brief survey, he found Hirawani asleep, on the bank. Fearing the long fatiguing journey had overtaxed her strength, he hesitated to disturb her, and allowed her to slumber on. Then, having taken the canoe a little down stream to where the portage began, he hauled it up the track, an undertaking that sorely tried his strength. With an. ordinary boat .this would have been impossible. The path was rough, uneven, and full of jagged rocks, but the narrow canoe, cut from a solid tree, with smooth, strong sides, survived the ordeal. Nevertheless, the task was almost beyond his strength, and after launching it on the upper waters he was obliged to seat himself on the bank to recover his breath. The swirling current at his, feet eddied over a rocky platform for N a few yards before plunging into the deep gorge, but a stone's throw from where he Bat. He. was too far removed from the brink to see tho great pool below, but hid eyes were attracted to the straight smooth edge, stretching from bank to banfc, where the placid surface suddenly bent and disappeared from view. Upon the further bank were tail and graceful tree-ferns, that spread a crown of feathery fronds above the glassy stream, which reflected the beau-i tiful picture as clearly as a mirror. Beyond, and above these, lofty trees raised their tasselled foliage two hundred feet into the blue sky; the tui's rich note, and the koromako's bell-like tinkle, formed • sweet harmonies above the deep diapason of falling water, and flocks of chattering parrakeets flew from tree to tree, their green and crimson feathers glancing iridescent in the sun. • Sitting thus, his ears filled with Nature's wild music, and his eyes resting on a earthly paradise, Graham wondered if thia sylvan solitude had ever been penetrated by a white man. Perhaps his eyes were the first to behold this magnificent cataract. Yet it had probably been thundering here, in solitary grandeur, and without a moment's cessation since the creation of Hitherto their progress had been comparatively easy, the current favouring and the depth of water ample for their light canoe; but this cataract and rapid warned Graham that tfce upper watere might be impracticable for boats. For days he had been advancing further and further into the heart of endless forests that seemed to cover the whole of this northern land with a mantle of primeval vegetation. Signs of inhabitants were daily growing less, everything pointed to this being the outskirts of a vast sylvan wilderness. As they left the sea coast their chances of obtaining food became less, and they now only possessed enough to last another day. Misgivings began to trouble Graham. _ Would they ever succeed in penetrating the gloomy depths of this pathless forest which lay between them and the east, coast? How could he ask the slight girl who followed him so bravely to cross this wilderness on -footp The prospect seemed hopeless until he remembered the alternative. _ "Return beaten, to live the life of a savage 1" he muttered, rising to his feet " No, it were better a thousand times to perish here in the wilderness." He must persevere, if not stopped by impassable rapiUs, in following the river for two days more, and then, strike across country due east. A region, he argued, that could support such a wealth of vegetation must surely provide sustenance for two solitary fugitives. Fortune had favoured them so far in this respect, and Hirawani'o intimate knowledge of the forest could be relied upon to discover the means of providing food. Then hie thoughts took another turn. Even should they succeed An reaching the coast the ship must be found, and that in a country thickly inhabited by enemies; and he could- never escape for long from the dreadful thought that they might arrive too late, only to find the ship had sailed. Hurrying down the path to escape from these gloomy forebodings in the company of Hirawani, he endeavorwed to look on the bright aide of the picture. Yes, he would persevere, in trying to escape from thiv savage country with his -devoted ennujanionj it was
worth any risk. His thoughts reverted to Hirawani, his Maori princess. Would she survive being transplanted into another land? This question had troubled him before. He feared that, like a caged swallow, she might pine for the wild freedom oi her primitive life the -matchless scenery and untainted air of her native land, the absence of father, mother, and all she held dear. He would seek out sonib sunny spot in the British dominions equally favoured by Nature, and make Hirawani's welfare hiß first care. And that other face ! • Did it ever rise before his imagination with reproachful looks? No, he had made his choice. Come what might, the rest ot his shoiild be devoted to the happiness of Hirawani. (To be concluded next week.)
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Star (Christchurch), Issue 8333, 3 June 1905, Page 1
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14,122TALES AND SKETCHES. Star (Christchurch), Issue 8333, 3 June 1905, Page 1
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