"THE SICKITY FIFT."

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXVIII, Issue 7971, 24 February 1906, Page 3

"THE SICKITY FIFT."

(By "Jorgo.")

Pasha and I bad finished crutching on a Wairarapa station, and wore making our way along the Tnueru road to Masterton. The morning had been pretty hot, and, with out heavy swags, walking wasn't all "beer and skittles." We bad passed the time telling yarns, and many an exciting tale Pasha had to tell of the Maori War. He had been a private in the gallant old 65th Regiment, and could, therefore, command one's attention when he offered to spin a yarn about the war. "Did I ever tell you about two rather comical experiences the old 65th had," said Pasha, as we pulled up near a ciump of manuka, and prepared to boil the billy. i "No; 1 don't think you did," 1 replied, hanging the billy of water on a short limb of a manuka tree. Pasha applied a match totbe wood under the billy, and commenced: "While *her billy's boilin', I'll tell yer. We wc:o attsckin' a pah up Sentry Hill way—thero was figbtin' up that way I can tell yer—and just about twelve o'clock we ,was surprised to see an old Maori chief climb on to the stoakade affair witb a white piece of cloth in his nand. He waved this about and wo stopped firing. "Sikity Fiftf!' he yelled—the Maoris always called us 'Sikity Fift,' it was the nearest approach they could get to Sixty v Fifth.. •Sikity Firt!' be cried again, 'dinner time; knock off.' We roared with laughter when we beard this, and our captain laughed til J the tears ran down his cheeks. 'All right,' he yelled back, and gave orders to cease firing in the menutime. We could see smoke risjn' from the pah. and we guessed the Maoris were tnoking in. We, also, got to work and filled the inner man. 'Twas the last dinner a good many of us had. About an hour after ceasin' firin' up jumped tho old Maori again. 'Sikity Fift,' he cried; 'belly full. Start again!' Down he jumped, and the slaugbterhi' match commenced again. Poor beggars, it seemed like a killin' yer own mates ahootin' them Maoris after what had happened. Begad! but they were made of the right stuff as far as pluck goes. They didn't give in till nearly every mother's son was either killed or wounded. Maori's ain't got the reputation of being extra plucky, but them lot were game 'uns.'' i Pasha was lost in thought for a few minutes, his mind probably going back to these stirring times of forty years ago. "Well, Pasha," I said, at last; "what about t'other incident?" "Oh, yes," he replied, kicking a stick farther under the billy; "I forgot. !«■• happened, too, away up Taranaki way. f might say before- • hand that the Sixty Fifth Regiment were great favourites with the Maoris—for why we never discovered. Peaceful or warlike Maoris, it was always the some. They looked npon us as sort of gods. If we dropped across a pah of peaceful Maoris the Sixty Fifth always seetred to tint all the favours from them. Well, as I was a-sayinV it 'oppened up Taranaki way. There was our regiment, a couple of other regiments, some oorps of volunteers and settlers after a band of Maoris, who had been troublesome. They had slipped as several times. At last, one day we dropped across tbern in a bit of clear country. We advanced on them, the Sixty Fifth in the lead. The Maoris were drawn, up something like what British regiment would be to receive an attack. We had orders not to fire till the Maoris had opened the ball. We outnumbered them about three or to one, and it was British fair play, under the circumstances, to let the Maoris fire first. There was a strange stillness in the air—there always was, I found, before a fight. The Maoris held their fire till we got close up. Then a young Maori chief stepped in front of th 9 Maori ranks and yelled out: 'Sikity Fift! Sikity Fiftf Lie down. We're goin' to fire!' That billy's boilin', Jorgo."