Nation Making

New Zealand Graphic, Volume VI, Issue 32, 9 August 1890, Page 2

Nation Making

A STORY OF NEW ZEALAND SAVAGEISM & CIVILIZATION.

By

J. C. FIRTH,

AUTHOR OF “LUCK" AND “OUR KIN ACROSS THE SEA.” Chapter XVIII. A WARLIKE EXPEDITION. Capturing canoes—Captain Lloyd our commander—A Maori war party—The six-toed man—On the trail—The six-toed trail lost in the mud—A deserted village—The first blood drawn—A picturesque bivouac—A village full of Maoris—Visions of glory —Rifles discharged—The spoils to the victors—Marching off the prisoners -Our military ardour cooled. ' N the last New Zealand war the Hower of the British army were engaged, assisted by thousands of colonial militia and volunteers. I had the honour of serving as a full private in the Manukau Rifles. One morning I and my groom were summoned ‘on active service ’ to capture the Maori canoes lying in the creeks falling into the Manukau harbour or gulf. 1 left my wife, children, and women servants in a terrible fright, but there was no help for it. Every able-bodied man had to go. The force, consisting of one hundred men, was under the command of Captain Lloyd, formerly an officer in the Irish Constabulary, a little mad perhaps, but as gallant a leader as ever men followed. We captured a great many canoes of various sizes, from the kupapa (little canoe) to the u-akatana (a large wrarcanoe). Amongst the latter class was a notable war canoe. The topsides ami figure-head were carved in superb Maori style. It was eighty-two feet long, and when fully manned carried a crew of one hundred warriors. Launching this canoe was a work of no little difficulty, requiring the full strength of the force to drag it on skids out of the Maori boat-house where it lay. A few old Maoris, men and women, sat and watched the work. Arms were piled, and sentries posted, the latter precaution being unnecessary, in accordance with a custom of the time, for all the men of fighting age were off to the war. An hour’s hard work put the big canoe in the little bay ready to be towed by the steamer on her return up the harbour. A week’s cruising in the attendant little steamer with some hard marching enabled us to capture all the canoes in the gulf, which, with the exception of the great war-canoe, were subsequently destroyed. (This war-canoe now lies at the Auckland Museum.) During the expedition Captain Lloyd received a despatch from the War Minister, informing him that the flagstaff at the Manukau Heads had been cut down by a Maori warparty, and ordering him to pursue and capture the offenders. We were informed that one of the hostile party had six toes. This enabled us to take up the track. For several days we followed the trail, through forest and fern, by means of the six-toed fellow’s footprints, until running it down to a deep stream, which we forded : at this point we lost the trail, but after an hour’s search we again found the track. We followed it through all sorts of forest openings and romantic glens, beneath mighty trees, silver tree ferns, and all the tangled greenery of the New Zealand forest. In a score of places we might have fallen into ambuscades, but being one hundred to ten Captain Lloyd pushed on, too intent on finding and keeping the trail of the fugitives to give himself the least trouble about any other parties of hostile Maotis. Happily we met with none, and so kept outskins whole. After finding and losing our trail a hundred times we ran it down to a broad salt-water creek. At this point the trail disappeared probably in the broad belt of slimy ooze with which the creek’s banks were lined. Not a footprint could be seen. The fugitives had certainly crossed somewhere, but where? Captain Lloyd halted * Her Majesty’s forces ’ as he called us, at the edge of the muddy flat. It was nearly low water, with a belt of slimy mud a quarter of a mile broad, and a stream of salt water forty feet across flowing down the centre. He decided to cross, and gave the word‘March’’ We obeyed naturally, being, as our gallant captain had frequently reminded us, • under the articles of war,’ otherwise I think the whole company would have bolted rather than have marched into the mud. Seeing us hesitate he roared : ‘ Now, men, no nonsense. Forward, inarch !’ And march we did, right into it, our gallant commander pluckily leading the way, sword in hand. Ankle deep, knee deep, we floundered on, some of ns sticking in the mud, the mud sticking to all of us, including the captain, for that mud was no respecter of persons. The stream of salt water in the centre gave us gieat relief. Wading through it up to our eartouch boxes, we floundered on through the muddy slime, which stuck to our uniforms in a very pertinacious way. After very hard work we reached solid ground wet, weary, ami muddy. ‘ Halt ! draw bayonets, scrape uniforms,’ sung out the captain. This done, we were ordeted to take skirmishing order ami search for the trail. The ground being hard clay, covered with scrubby fern, we sought for the trail in vain. Whether the Maoris had gone up stream or down stream we could not tell. Anyway we neither picked up the six toed track nor the six-toed man. I learnt afterwards that the fellow was made prisoner in the Waikato war, and finding possibly his extra toes a great nuisance in the way of showing his tracks, begged the doctors to cut the extra toes off.

< fur captain was very angry and we were very wet. After marching about a mile we fell in with indications of a Maori village. We marched for it, to fight-there or sleep there as might happen, so our captain said. But, being cautious as well as valiant, he threw out scouts in advance, and we crept on behind as quiet as mice. In a little while the scouts fell back and reported that a village was there, but that not a Maori could be seen. Still continuing his precautions for fear of an ambuscade, we advanced in skirmishing order, ready for the worst, anil found the village quite deserted. We were glad and sorry, that is, the captain said he was sorry, but as for the rest of us—l know it was mean—we were very glad. Tuakoto was a large Maori village, with large cultivations, and a number of good whares. To take possession of these and hunt for and find potatoes aud kumeras, did not take ns long. In the search we fortunately dislodged a number of Maori pigs. Our commissariat had miserably failed us, and our gallant captain at once gave orders to * charge ’ the pigs, and capture as many as possible. The interpreter to the force said the pigs might be friendly pigs, or rather the pigs of friendly Maoris. But as there were no Maoris there, either friendly or hostile, Captain Lloyd declared, in authoritative tones,thathe was not going to stand by and see Her Majesty’s forces starve in the presence of pigs like those, and without more ado declared them ‘ hostile pork,’ and commanded the men to do their duty. Two butchers in the force at once stepped out and ‘did their duty,’ and for want of their knives stuck a dozen of the captured pigs with their bayonets (that was the first blood drawn on the expedition), and roughly dressed them in double quick time. .While this was going on sentries were posted and parties were detailed to get firewood and water, of which, happily, there was abundance. In a little time a dozen large fires were under way in the forest clearing with the captain’s ‘ hostile pork ’ roasting or frying on every fire. It was a jolly time, and really quite picturesque. Our fellows felt, and looked, and ate, and finally slept like warriors. Through the drowsy night nothing disturbed us beyond the ‘ All’s well ! ’ of the sentries, and the melancholy cry of the ‘ more-pork,’ a native owl, so called from his cry of ‘more pork, more pork.’ Next morning we marched fora second Maori village, about two miles away. Never relaxing his vigilance for a moment our worthy captain threw out scouts as before. Soon returning, they reported a large number of Maoris about the village. The military instincts of our gallant commander enabled him rapidly to make the necessary dispositions for the attack. Again that meddlesome fellow, the ‘ interpreter,’ said he believed they were friendly Maoris. But the captain’s blood was up, and he said in fierce tones that he ‘ would stand no nonsense,’ and without more ado he gave the word to ‘load.’ We now felt we were ‘ in for it,’ or that the Maoris were, which was much the same thing, with a difference. Said the captain with flashing eye : ‘ Men, you will do your duty, men always do (at least almost always). At the word “ Fire,” give it ’em hot and fire low. Charge !’ Down hill and across the stream we “ charged ” belter skelter, the captain in advance. We dashed on at the double in good order, but one awkward fellow stepping on a mossy boulder fell bacKwards into the water, his rifle going off at the same instant. • Confound you !’ roared the captain, as the ball whizzed within an inch of his cap. ‘ Fall into the rear, sir, and take charge of the baggage. ’ This shot nearly upset the captain, and it entirely upset his plans. For, on gaining the crest of the hill, the women and children in the Maori village rushed together in ten or. About a dozen old men disappeared into the whares. This was dreadful. All our gallant captain’s visions of glory vanished with the Maoris.

In the rush several rifles had been discharged, but nobody was the worse except a few of the ‘hostile pigs,’ which furnished the only list of killed and wounded resulting from our well-planned and spirited attack. The captain, though in a towering rage, manceuvred, his men admirably, considering the stumps and logs lying about in all directions. The Maori women were in great terror, and evidently expected to be killed off at once. But our captain, merciful as well as brave, in a pithy speech informed them that British soldiers never molested prisoners of war, especially when they were women. Oiir captain, as distinguished for organisation as for valour, ordered all the Maori men into one house, and the women and children into another. Sentries having been posted over them, we proceeded to search and loot the houses. We secured about thirty muskets, some ammunition, a number of spears, tomahawks, taiahas (Maori battle-axes), greenstone ornaments, some officers’ swords and soldiers’ jackets, and a variety of other articles. The captain determined to march off the male prisoners, under a strong escort, to the nearest European settlement. Before moving off our courteous captain complimented us on the victory we had won, which, he said, though bloodless, was signal and complete. This speech was of course greeted with hearty cheers. Laden with spoil, and proud of our decisive victory, we marched off with our trembling prisoners in proper military fashion, advanced guard, skirmishers on either flank, and all the rest of it. About nightfall we marched into the European settlement. The excitement caused by our arrival was intense. Hitherto the regular troops had made very little impression on the enemy, who swarmed in the foiest ranges bordering the settled districts. That the first capture of prisoners was made by volunteer soldiers was something to boast of. If we hail not taken the ‘ six-toed ’ rebel we had made sixteen prisoners, who, though all old men, had each the regulation number of toes on both feet, as we had found, after a close examination. It had rained all day, and we were very wet, but very jolly, for had we not won a great victory ? The captain, while we were drying our uniforms, was busy writing despatches, which he promptly sent on to head quarters, covering full particulars of our great victory, with detailed lists of the muskets and soldiers’ jackets we had captured. Sleantime we were ordered to discharge our rifles but—whether owing to the heavy rain all day or to some of the cartridges having got down wrong end first, when we were ordered to ‘ load ' —not half our rifles would go off. We had a terrible job to get out the bullets, ami our captain, though the politest of officers when everything went on right, was

furrious, and swore like a trooper when the rifles would not go oft'. We sulked a good deal, but remembering we were soldiers, and not forgetting the ‘Articles of War,’ we said nothing. Nevertheless we could not help thinking that it was just as well that the young warriors of the kainga had all gone to the ‘front,’ or the great victory might have been on the other side. In a couple of days despatches arrived from head-quarters. Imagine our disgust at being informed that we had attacked a friendly village, and that our prisoners were all peaceable and friendly Maoris ! The captain was instructed to release his prisoners forthwith and restore all the captured property. Whether the thirty muskets were actually returned we had no means of knowing, but as the war, out of respect for Exeter Hall, was then conducted on strictly philanthropic principles, most likely they were, and the ammunition as well. Next day a steamer conveyed us to our homes, with the captured canoes in tow, and our military ardour at zero. (TO BE CONTINUED.)