TUTU

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XII, Issue VI, 10 February 1894, Page 134

TUTU

By

TUA-O-RANGI.

CHAPTERS I. TO XII. •The word * Utu,’ meaning in Maori, revenge, is the keynote of the story The heroine, Eleanor Radcliffe, lives with her supposed father, Horace Radcliffe, at Radcliffe Hall in England. Her uncle, Roger, returns from India with a valet, Jacques The valet falls in love with Eleanor, and being annoyed at another lover, Captain O’Halleran, tells Mr Roger Radcliffe that he is really his son by a gipsy woman to whom he was legally married in Spam, and whom he accuses Mr Roger of murdering. As the price of his silence he demands Eleanor’s hand. Mr Roger declares she is also his daughter and Jacques’ sister. Jacques still says he will marry her somehow. Roger dies, owns his daughter, leaving her his vast wealth. Eleanor lives with a Miss Toogood. She meets a French Count, De Pignerolles, who manages to break off by forged letters the engagement between her and Captain O’Halleran. Eleanor marries the Count and goes abroad with him. He wants more of her money, and shows her the letters he has forged to and from the Captain. They return to Radcliffe Hall. She entreats the Captain to help her to get a divorce. The Count overhears, and next morning, telling Eleanor that he is really her brother, gives her a casket containing the apparent y freshly killed heart of the Captain, administers a poisonous gipsy potion to the fainting and terrified girl, and leaves England. CHAPTER XIII. The scene changes to a Parisian cafe. Two gentlemen are talking over a projected excursion to New Zealand, which they call Cisle d'or. They wish to take with them a certain M. D’Estrelles who has money. CHAPTER XIV. 'fhc twogentlemen, D’Arblay and du Fresne, dine with D’Estrell s. They are fascinated with his most peculiar-looking valet, Arnaud, who has the appearance of a mummy, his lashless eyes being very staring. Arnaud is to accompany the expedition to mesmerize the savages. CHAPTER XV. Two French frigates, the Marquis de Castries and the Mascarin, under Captain du Fresne and Lieutenant Crozet, start for New Zealand. I hey have on board two sailors who have previously visited the colony, Jean and Jacques. Over these two, Arnaud, the valet, acquires a strange influence. In May, 1772, they sight land. QHA.PTER XVI. 'rhe first object to attract attention is a New Zealand war canoe, adrift, floating helplessly about, full of bodies. The adventurers approach it, and rescue the only two living Maoris. The others, who present a most gruesome spectacle, are thrown overboard. The two survivors are likely to prove useful as passports to I'isle d'or. CHAPTER XVII. SNATCHED FROM THE JAWS OF DRATH —‘ KAPAI TE WAI PIRO, HOMAI TE KAI.’ ■I E ANTIME one at least of the good doctor’s patients was showing signs of recovery. He was apparently the elder of the two brought on board, and had probably reached middle life, though his condition made his age difficult to guess. He was t considerably above the average French height, and his leanness made him appear quite preternaturally tall. The leathery skin seemed all that belli his fleshless frame together, but he had never been very fat, as one of his names—learned later on—implied. It was Whanau-tu-oi (born lean), though

he was commonly called Taranui. His scalp locks, drawn up to the crown and fastened with a tuft of feathers, were of a rusty black, but not a vestige of hair appeared on his coppery phiz, every’ inch of which was covered with dark blue lines forming symmetrical figures, those on one side of the face exactly correspond'ng to those on the other. These lines, the Frenchmen afterwards learned, were produced by a painful process known among the New Zealanders as moko. His visage was long, the cheek bones rather prominent, forehead high and narrow, nose aquiline semewhat flattened, and the lips thin. About his loins w’as a woven cloth with handsome fringe of dried straw pipes which rattled at the least movement, and about his shoulders a large wrapper with a wide coloured border. Pendant from his bony’ wrist, attached by a wisp of flax, was a weapon of hard grey stone somewhat over a foot long, and heavy enough to smash something much harder than a human skull.* A shark’s tooth dangling from an enormous slit in the lobe of his right ear completed his get up. Despite his woebegone and helpless condition he was an ugly-looking customer, and when at length his eyelids lifted, and two fiery eyes peered out, at first vacantly, and then in puzzled wonder upon the vivacious Frenchies, who would cluster round, malgre prohibition, a shudder passed through them, as simultaneously they thought how unpleasant it would be to fall into the power of a tribe of such as he, in full vigour, on the war path. Just now, however, Taranui Whanau-tu-oi was quite harmless, and opened and shut his eyes many times with long rests between ere he regained strength enough to wag his tongue, let alone his mere. He had, however, absorbed a good deal of nutriment in the shape of warm soup, which le doctewr had perseveringly’ dribbled into his stomach, not to mention repeated doses of that superlative revivifier, brandy, and he continued to improve until on the following day he astounded those about him by suddenly sitting bolt upright, and, pointing a skinny’ finger at the liquor stand, exclaiming in grating tones, ‘ Kapai te wai piro ! Homai!' (Very’ good is the stinking water ! Give me some !) Of course his lingo was much less comprehensible than Dutch to the Frenchmen, but his gestures were intelligible enough, and a fellow-feeling sharpening their perceptions, they at once jumped to the right conclusion, and pleased to find in a savage evidence of such susceptibility to civilizing influences, hastened to give him enough cognac to have choked an ordinary Christian. The doctor reprimanded them sharply when he next examined the patient’s pulse, but neither he nor they foresaw (how could they ?) the ultimate consequences of thus early implanting Christian tastes in a heathen breast. The heathen, however, continued to make rapid strides towards convalescence, and soon showed himself possessed of a most capacious maw to which very little in the shape of food came amiss. But though Taranui thus repaid the doctor’s efforts on his behalf, his companion, known among his people, as subsequently appeared, by the name of Naku-roa (long scratch), seemed to defy every endeavour to resuscitate him, and the shades of evening found him still unconscious of the indefatigable mfdicin's devotion. ‘ If Monsieur le docte.ur will permit me,’ spoke a voice in that gentleman’s ear, as with incredible patience he was for the ninety-ninth time feeling for a pulse, ‘ I have a remedy which I believe would restore Monsieur’s patient.’ The voice was low and insinuating, and the speaker was Arnaud, Monsieur d’Estrelles’ valet. * Indeed my friend ! And what may that be ?’ queried the doctor, incredulously. "This weapon, more often formed of greenstone, was known nniong the natives as a mere, pronounced niary.

1 I have it here, Monsieur,’ and Arnaud handed him a small metal case containing a phial. The doctor took it, removed the stopper, looked at the contents, smelt it, and then handing it back, exclaimed impatiently: ‘ Rubbish ! as I might have known. Begone, sir ; you are too officious. ’ ‘ Nay, then, Monsieur, believe me, it will surely restore him if he be not already dead.’ ‘He is not dead, rascal. But since you are so pertinacious, where got you the stuff?’ ‘ It was given me, Monsieur, by one skilled in medicaments, and it will restore life even at the last gasp, unless, indeed, the system be quite worn out.’ ‘ H—m. Well, my friend, if it be not “ warranted to kill ” you may administer it, for pardieu ! I can do no more. But have a care, villain, for should it fail, pardieu ! I shall give you a dose out of the same bottle for your presumption. A gleam shot from behind the valet’s eyeshades, but he only answered quietly ; ‘ C'est bien, Monsieur.’ Then mixing a few drops of the tincture in a little water, he gently raised the prostrate Maori’s head, and carefully administered it. Whatever it was it proved a very elixir vitee, at once quickening the almost imperceptible pulsations of the dying savage. In a few minutes a movement of the limbs was followed by a quivering of the eyelids and parched lips, and before long a pair of dark languid eyes opened wonderingly upon the strange figures clustering round in the gathering gloom. ‘ He’ll do,’ cried the doctor, joyfully. * But, pardieu ! Arnaud, you must give me that phial.’ ‘lt desolates me to disoblige you, Monsieur,’ replied Arnaud, softly. ‘ What, you refuse me ? Come, my good Arnaud, I will reward you handsomely.’ ‘ C’est bien, Monsieur. But it is impossible.’ Further negotiation was abruptly ended by Naku-roa, who, though too weak to uplift himself, had all at once become very much alive, and prompted by the cravings of a flat stomach, had found tongue. ‘Homai te lai,' he articulated in guttural accents, rolling his hungry eyes round upon the inquisitive bystanders. ‘J e fcai, homai. ’ ‘He wants food,’ cried petit Jean. 1 Kai is the Maori name for food. ’ ‘Ha I’ laughed the doctor, rubbing his hands. ‘ He’ll do. Now, my friend Arnaud, I’ll leave him in your hands. You recalled him to life, he shall be your patient, and w r e shall see how you get on. But mind you, not too much food ; he’ll gorge if you let him—and—perhaps eat yourself if you don’t. Ha ! ha I I wish you joy of your task, mon bon gareon. He’s a huge monster, a real giant, and hungry as a shark. 'Tis said the Maori is a man-eater. Ha ! ha ! You have called back to life a wolf; let us hope he will devour you. But I am tired. I must have a promenade and a cigar. Au revoir, mon ami.’ And laughing pleasantly to himself at his very cheerful suggestions, Monsieur le docteur skipped away to join the groups see-sawing on the quarter deck. CHAPTER XVIII. MAORII.AND —SOME QUEER CUSTOMS A HOSPITABLE SAVAGE. ‘La terre ! La terre !' The welcome announcement from the masthead was taken up joyously and passed on from mouth to mouth until from stem to stern the glad cry echoed and reechoed. 'La terre! La teire ! They were off the North

Cape, but the sun was westering, wherefore the captain decided to heave to until the next morning, when they could at their leisure pass down the coast reconnoitring. Three days had elapsed since picking up the war canoe, and the most had been made of the time in the way of gaining the good will of the rescued savages, and obtaining from them information as to their tribe's location, the character of the country, etc. Petit Jean, Jacques, and even Arnaud, were ordered aft, and with the convalescents, formed, on the poop, the centre of an interesting circle, not a little amusement being derived from the repeated blunders of the very imperfect interpreters. The native gestures were, however, emphatic, i their language was but partially understood, and it was gathered that they were warriors of a great nation, the Ngapuhi, and that their crew had formed part of a war fleet which had encountered a gale a fortnight previously on their return from a successful raid upon some coastal settlements of the Anipouri, a people living in the extreme north. Overtaken by darkness, and separated from the rest, their canoe had been blown out to sea, and for days they had been tossed at the mercy of wind and wave trying vainly to make land, until their small stock of provisions giving out at last, they had one by one succumbed to the pangs of starvation. Remembering the horrid accusations which had been made against the natives of New Zealand, Jacques rather incautiously asked them in his halting Maori how it was that when starving they had not eaten each other, and the angry horror excited by his question when at length the savages perceived its drift convinced even the least favourably disposed that the devil was less black than he had been painted. This incident relieved the Frenchmen’s minds of a very unpleasant doubt, and disposed their volatile natures to a confidence altogether reckless. The joy of the two warriors when the vessels approached near enough for them to discern the outline of the coast may be imagined. They, however, were very dignified in its expression, particularly Naku-roa, who probably feared his youthfulness might be betrayed by a yielding to emotion. Despite his lank condition he was a fine specimen of Nature's nobility; large-limbed, strong-framed, and of majestic mien, when standing with his great flaxen wrapper enveloping his tall figure like a Roman toga—although decidedly less imposing when squatting on his hams, a favourite position with both chiefs (for such they turned out to be). His jet black hair was bound up like that of his comrade, but his face was much less disfigured with the moko, a point in his favour he would probably outgrow. His dark eyes were agreeable in expression, and other features fine for a savage, and of a somewhat Jewish cast, the large mouth, fairly shaped, and showing, whenever he opened it, a fine set of teeth. Whether fascinated by the singular eyes or brown skin, or won by his ministrations, he had attached himself inseparably to Arnaud, who had waited on him assiduously, and who seemed to have an intuitive apprehension of his wishes, and the meaning of his gestures and jargon, humouring his whims with almost feminine tact. Arnaud knew what he was about. For reasons of his own he hankered after a clearer insight into Maori manners and customs, and fully appreciated the importance of possessing a friend at Court in the event of unpleasant eventualities ; but how he di-covered that the young chief’s practice of smashing every vessel out of which he drank, was an act of grace and not of malice, propen se, was a marvel. He had smiled at first as if he thought it funny, then looked a little grave, and then gently expostulated. Then Naku-roa explained the matter in copious Maori, of which his hearer understood about one word in twenty, but Arnaud seemed quite satisfied, and uttered no more protests, nay even undertook to prove to le chef de cuisine that the savage meant well. Both chiefs seemed addicted to this singular practice, which the more hypercritical attributed to barbarian diablerie.. But the captain anxious to secure their good offices on shore, gave positive orders that-no fuss should be made, and when, on their complete recovery, instead of smashing, they shied the dishes overboard after using them, it was laughed at as an excellent joke. Eventually, however, the Frenchmen found that these seemingly mischievous acts had really been prompted by good-nature, for their visitors, it appeared, being chiefs, were sacred (tapu), and their using any vessel at once made it sacred also, and by consequence noxious to others. Hence they evinced their benevolence by destroying it as quickly as possible, thus averting the disastrous consequences certain to follow its unguarded use by some entirely mundane mortal. That this belief in their own sacredness was not a fancy but a deep-seated conviction, the foreigners had evidence when they saw them at home, and found that the chiefs never handled utensils of any description, but submitted to be fed by attendant slaves, and conveyed liquids to their throats by means of their hands, through which, joined together as a funnel, their attendants poured their drinks from upraised calabashes. This sacredness, it appeared, was a quality inherent in natives of high caste only, and resulted from their divine origin, for their great progenitor Tiki was God begotten, and all his ma'e descendants were therefore holy (tapu). The broad back of the ancient Maori chief was especially sacred, his tufted head more sacred still, and the tuft itself the holy of holies. To speak of a chief's head was to run awful risks; to speak lightly of it to incur certain suffering ; to touch it to ensure destruction. No wonder the superstitious and ignorant slave-begotten commonalty regarded him with awe. His very bones were potential. The cave in which they had lain, the tree in whose branches they had rested, any and every place of sepulture was saturated with sanctity, and therefore barred or tapu to all save the priestly order. No man might handle the bones of the illustrious dead, cut down the tree which had supported them, or step on consecrated ground and live. Had our voyagers but known all this at the commencement of their intercourse, what horrors might not have been averted. As time wore on the strangers found the word tapu in constant requisition, and so generally applied that they began at last to joke about the Holy Land. They, however, gave the native explanations too little attention to

gain other than a very hazy conception of the meaning of a word more significant than any other in the Maori language, expressing, as it did. time-honoured usages, which, though almost inconceivable to early European visitors, and not very comprehensible to those who succeeded them, had for the Maori all the force of supernatural laws. The tapu, in all its varieties, was so inwoven with his traditions, so far-reaching in its effects, and so important in all its bearings upon the daily life of the ancient Maori, that an intelligent understanding of it, and all it implied, was absolutely essential to satisfactory and continued intercourse with them. A tapu-ed object was an object set apart. Its inherent sanctity might be the cause, or its irremediable pollution. The will of the chief might impose the tapu, the weal of the commonalty necessitate it, but by priestly incantations only could it be removed. There were several kinds — personal, priestly, ordinary, extraordinary, and unclean, the last the most dreadful of all. Besides the bodies of priests and other rangatira*, who possessed the inherent power of Za/az-ing what they chose, numerous other objects were permanently tami in the sense of being prohibited, as wood of old dwellings, food touched by anything tapu, war parties, fishing expeditions, first fish or fruits of the season, food and seed stores, sick persons and their attendants, dead bodies, corpse-tenders, priest’s slaves, kumera planters, etc. Others were often temporarily tapu, such as fishing grounds, pipi banks, trees suitable for canoes, rivers, roads, etc. Probably all the terrible deeds of bloody cann balisni, which, in the beginning of the century made civilized cheeks pale at the name of New Zealand, were but reprisals for some infringement of this unknown law, and might have been avoided had the pioneers of settlement been acute or heedful enough to master its meaning. But this is a digression.

The two warriors had described themselves as chiefs of tribes living on the shores and islands of a large bay no great distance down the coast, and as neither Jean nor Jacques had seen either of them before, it was naturally inferred that they hailed from some point south of Captain de Surville’s landing-place, so,keeping well away, the ships bore slowly down the east coast, the captain examining carefully the deep indentations and precipitous bluffs which characterize it. Very soon its familiar features were recognized by the chiefs, and under their directions the vessels steered for the magnificent harbour, since become famous in New Zealand history as the Bay of Islands. It appears that upon one of the islands with which it is studded was located the kainga (village) occupied by the hapu (tribal division) of the chief Taranui, and that dusky dignitary, in the warmth of his gratitude, gave the marines a cordial invite to disembark there and pay him and his people a lengthened visit. This chief was, when he saw fit, a great stickler for etiquette, and very early showed an acute perception of differences in rank among the strangers. With the captain he was on an equality, called him Marion quite fraternally ; with the other officers and gentlemen, tolerant, but reserved ; with the general crowd of pakehas (white strangers) haughtily taciturn. They were tutuas (nobodies), he said afterwards when introducing them in a body to his friends. However, he freely extended his hospitality to all and sundry, and the captain, whose temper was frank and confiding, as freely accepted the offer, glad of an opportunity of establishing friendly relations, and anxious at once to laud the sick. Taranui’s island was, he said, called Wai-iti, and for some days the name became a watchword with the weary invalids longing to set foot on terra ftrma. Naku-roa, however, lived on the mainland, and would on his return become the head of his tribe, his father having perished with the rest. The canoe, it appeared, and the bulk of the deceased warriors belonged to his tribe, Taranui, who was related to them, and whose hapu * Maori gentlemen.

and fortunes were in a decaying state, having only contributed a limited contingent. The lean chief s personal loss, however, had been great, for his son and nephew had both perished, as well as the handful of braves he could ill spare. The young chief would have a painful duty to discharge on meeting his people, and perhaps it was this which deterred him from following Taranui’s hospitable examp'e. Anyhow, he invited only Arnaud. He was chief of an influential tribe, and therefore a great ranga tiro (gentleman), but though he must have seen that his deliverer occupied a subordinate position, he and the valet were as thick as thieves. CHAPTER XIX. MONSIEUR D’ESTRELLES HAS VISIONS—AN EARTHI.V PARADISE —HOLDING A TANGI. ‘ Have you slept better lately, »««« ami P The speaker was Captain du Fresne, and the question was addressed to Monsieur d'Estrelles, who lounged over the tatfrail moodily contemplating the varying features of the irregular coastline. Suppressing a curse, he replied in the negative, adding : ‘ There must be something amiss with this cursed ship, Du Fresne. I never was so affected in my life until 1 came aboard. Never had a dream since I was born, amt now such infernal visions that I might as well be in hell at once, pardieu !' ‘ ’Tis passing strange. And removing your valet has made no difference ?’ • Not an iota. 1 told you it it was not Arnaud. lie never looks at me ; ’tis more than he dare ; and he sleeps like a stone. I used to lean over the bunk sometimes hoping to catch him at some r lab'erie, but he was invariably fast asleep. No, it is not Arnaud. And 1 miss

the fellow ; he was so easily roused, ami ready to wait on me at a moment's notice.’ ‘ Have you had any repetition of the voices ?’ ‘ Hear them every night. That is what puzzles me most. If I only heard them when asleep it would not be so infernally odd. But I hear them when awake, often.’ ‘ And they are familiar voices, you say ?’ • Voices of people I know to be dead, damn them ! If I believed in spirits I should say the cursed ship was haunted, but as I don’t, and don't intend to, pardieu! 1 suppose my liver is disordered, or maybe the sea and I are incompatible. I shall sleep better ashore, doubtless. By the way, I wonder if the wahines (native women) are such houris as Jacques paints them ?’ ‘We shall soon see, uion ami. Petit Jean also savs they are fine women, w’.th large dark eyes and velvet skin. Ha 1 ha ! Who would have imagined the little man was a chevalier aux dames ? But you, mon am ! , von area great lady-killer, D’Arblay tells me. Yet let me beg of you to be careful. These savages may be a jealous race, and coquetting with their women'might end disastrously. But lam sure I can trust in your discretion, D’Estrelles. By the way, that valet of yours is proving his capacity. He already knows more of the lingo, and seems to understand the brown skins better than Jean and Jacques put together. And what a fancy that young chief seems to have for him. Those eyes of his must have bewitched the copperskin. Well, D’Estrelles, we shall soon step on dry land now, and I hope the change will improve your looks, for you are certainly thinner, and decidedly paler, ami infinitely more taciturn than when we left Za pa'rie, I fear you take your dreams too much to heart.’ A shade of annoyance passed over D’Estrelles’ countenance, but suppressing the imprecation which rose to his lips at the captain’s banter, he replied jauntily : ‘ Not at all, mon ami, but pardieu, want of sleep plavs the devil with one’s comfort. I’ll try the shore to-night, and then, nous rerrous.'

Great was the excitement on board both ships, as, sailing up the broad isle-dotted bav, the weary seafarers, hungering for a sight of dry land, feasted their eyes upon the lovely scenery and luxuriant vegetation which everywhere met their delighted gaze. On all sides of the splendid harbour they saw spacious inlets affording safe anchorage ; winding streams openingupravishing vistas ; verdant valleys flanked by wooded ridges; and away in the background, far as the eye could reach, the everlasting hills, rising tier above tier, the emerald green of their distant foliage toned into tender blues by intervening vapours. And, as they approached nearer and caught sight of the villages nestling at the bases of fortified hills ; and detected gathering upon the shores, groups and then troops of astonished human beings, some in picturesque garb, others minus any save maybe a fringe round the middle, but all clustering together in wonder-struck silence ; their pulses beat still faster, their eyes shone, their faces glowed, a very fever of mingled hope, and dread, and indefinable expectation, burned in their veins. This—this was the land of their dreams, the promised land, the new Eldorado! Nay more. 'Twas a panorama, ’twas fairyland, ’twas paradise ! And those brown figures there, yet too far off to be plainly distinguishable ? Possibly they were houris, wooing them in ; perchance they were devils barring them out ? The ships cast anchor, and barely had they done so when several canoes from various points shot into sight. The islanders were evidently not panic-stricken, though astonished. They came round the ships gazing enquiringly, keeping, however, at a safe distance, until a cry from Taranui— 1 7'ena koutou,'* startled them almost out of their senses. To say they were amazed is nothing. They were astounded, thunderstruck! But the old

warrior continued his encouragements, and growing bolder, they slowly brought their canoes nearer, and yet more near, until they arrived within talking distance. And then, when they saw that the salutation indeed proceeded from their missing friend Taranui, beside whom stood the younger warrior, they simultaneously set up such an outcry as might have woke the dead. In a brace of shakes they were scrambling aboard pellmell, and then ensued a scene illustrative of Maori manners for which no previous experience could have prepared the voyagers. The first Maori on board, apparently oblivious of the vicinity of strangers, advanced to the old warrior, and the two falling upon eaoh other’s necks, laid their noses together, and with united voices gave vent to the most melancholy whining imaginable. This rubbing of noses and accompanying whine was, Jean and Jacques explained, the customary mode of greeting, and was called by the natives hongi. The second arrival was treating Naku-roa in the same fashion. But, to the amusement and subsequent dismay of the cheerful Gauls, the greeting did not end here. Indeed, this was but the beginning, and the beginning, as it turned out, of a most infernal concert; for noses had no sooner been properly rubbed than the four friends—still embracing, and with nose yet pressed lovingly against nose —squatted on the deck, and surrounded by the whole body of their retainers, gave way to the most lugubrious lamentations. The rescued chiefs, in tones whose dolefulness cannot be described, seemed to be narrating the harrowing tale of their late companions’ fate, for every melancholy sentence was received by all around with heartrending wails —not to say howls —while down every * Mnori Good day to you.’

cheek coursed copious floods of tears. They were ‘ holding a tangi (mourning) for the dead,’ so Jacques said. In ungovernable curiosity the Frenchmen at first drew near the savages, taking stock of their appearance and dress, the latter in most cases little more than a figleaf, but instinctive respect for such overwhelming grief soon made even the most inquisitive retire to a decent distance, many of them with their fingers in their ears, and before the tale of sorrow ended they were pretty full up of it, for it lasted over an hour—almost double the usual period of the tangi, Jacques explained—a spinning out due doubtless to the terrible nature of the calamity afflicting them. During the whole time their tears ceased not for one instant to roll piteonsly down, affording the lively strangers ample subject for wonder as to the source of these abundant streams. But human nature was human nature even in old Maoriland, and long before the principal actors in this doleful scene had wiped away the last pearly drop, the outside squatters, particularly the more youthful of them, found their natural curiosity regarding the strangers besting their sturdiest endeavours to sit out the affair decorously. It was natural to desire an account of the actual fate of their warrior friends. It was a relief to bewail their loss and recite in high-flown dirges their virtues and prowess. It was tika (the correct thing) to squat with body bent and eyes cast down, with wailing lips and streaming tears, until the chiefs should signify that the tale of woe was ended, and not being icahines, the young warriors stoically braced themselves to do the ‘ correct thing ’ spite of ail counter attractions. But it would not do. To eyes unused to nobler seacraft than the buoyant war canoes, to imaginations whose highest flight was this same cance

decked, the tall-masted, white-winged ships, gliding like things of life into their beaut'ful bay were a revelation. They had doubtlesss heard of De Surville’s disastrous visit to Mongonui, and perhaps listened incredulously to exaggerated descriptions of his vessels. Some of them had probably gazed in awed surprise at the unpretentious collier in which the illustrious Cook first circumnavigated the globe. But ships like these their loftiest imaginings had never soared to. Small wonder then that crouching there on the snowy deck of the Marquis de Castries, with the wonderful strangers clustering round them, the more youthful found their eyes attracted by the fair-skinned, oddly dressed beings who could design, and build, and manceuvre, such a vessel ; or that even the seasoned warriors found it difficult to keep up the briny flow from eyes that would rove if they relaxed their self-watch for a moment. The blue-blooded Maori, the great rangatira of ‘ Ye Olden Time,’ had too much self-respect to stare in gaping wonder, however much he might be impressed. It was due to his dignity not to be taken by surprise. To exhibit such at the doings or belongings of strangers would be to proclaim his own lack of knowledge, to write himself down a tutua Therefore, though he might be gasping with curiosity, or ready to expire of amazement, he usually contrived to maintain an impassive countenance and phlegmatic demeanour. The operation of this feeling had enabled the two rescued chiefs to restrain the expressions of surprise which must often have risen to their lips when they were sufficiently recovered to wander about the frigate and exchange courtesies with their deliverers. The latter had been somewhat amused at their sang froid, which presented

such a contrast to their own impulsive vivacity. They had now still further reason to wonder—sorrow so deep as to render its subject utterly oblivious of external things ; self-command strong enough to hold curiosity in check were alike unintelligible to their volatile minds. But despite the sorrow, in defiance of the self control, many a sidelong glance shot from under bent brows ; many an abreviated wail, many an interrupted tearflow, indicated the mental conflict of the rank and file ; and the tangi was no sooner fairly ended than, buzzing like bees, they swarmed over the ship, carried out of themselves by the novelty of everything they saw. Taranui’s account of the services rendered to himself and comrade at once won his countrymen’s goodwill, and all the chiefs of note, particularly Te Whatu Moana (eye of the ocean), head of a large settlement on MotuArohia, a considerable island in the bay, and Takori Hiko-o-te-rangi (lightning of heaven), chief of a powerful hapu on the mainland, gave the captain and officers a pressing invitation to visit them at their villages. The first-named, indeed, insisted on their visiting his island that day before landing the sick at Wai-iti, where Taranui promised to have accommodation provided ere nightfall. The company, having had a peep round the ship, then took their departure loaded with presents and greatly prepossessed with the foreigners, whose use of a few of their own words, and apparent acquaintance with some of their customs, surprised and delighted them. CHAPTER XX. MOTO AROHIA —‘ HAERE MAI ’ THE MAORI AT HOME —A NATIVE BANQUET —A BARBAROUS CUSTOM. Habited in the handsome uniform of the French navy

and wearing all the insignia of his rank and office, Captain du Fresne and his brilliant company of officers and gentlemen must have made a decided impression upon the inhabitants of Motu Arohia, who from all quarters of the island were assembled at the village overlooking the landing-place to do their visitors honour, possibly to impress them with a just idea of native strength and resources, but no sign of emotion appeared in the grave and dignified mien of the principal personages who stood around their chief as he received the strangers within the palisading of their kainga. Being invited guests, they were treated ceremoniously, as much preparation having been made for their reception as the limited time allowed. As their boats entered the pretty cove where canoes of all sizes attested the numerous population of the island, a small army of stalwart youths in the garb of Eden dashed into the water, and in a trice drew them up high and dry on the tiny beach. Then, forming together in a dance of welcome, they conducted the visitors up the winding pathway which led to the village entrance. All around them extended enclosed cultivations, but the dwellings of the owners appeared to be all located within the substantial palisading which, now that they were close to it, quite obstructed their view of the interior. Passing through the gateway—or rather hole, and a small one at that—they found that another and much loftier fence yet intervened between them and their entertainers. Between the two was a dry ditch, and as they advanced they noticed that their approach was being observed by dusky spectators ranged on quadrangles at the comers, evidently there erected for purposes of defence in wartime. The inner fence of tall poles

bound firmly together, exhibited an array of grotesque wooden figures, some of them elaborately carved, but whose proportions gave no very elevated idea of the state of art in Maoriland. Two of these images, marvellous in their ugliness, with gaping jaws and protruding tongues, surmounted the side posts of the main gateway, through which the voyagers were now ushered amid vociferous cries of ‘ Haere mai, Haere mai,' (welcome), waving of mats, and the following song chanted by the wahines in soft monotones : ‘ Welcome, O stranger, from beyond the sky, My darling child ha h brought thee thence, From the uttermost parts of the Heaven hath he dragged thee. Welcome, O welcome.* Of course, the song being sung in Maori, its full significance was lost. However, the visitors took it amiably, convinced that it was well meant from the eloquent glances of the singers’ dark expressive eyes. In the marae (courtyard) of the principal house, which they supposed to be the residence of the chiefs, but which they found afterwards was the village reception hall (wharenoa), they were received by Te Whatu Moana, who advanced to meet them with an air of lofty respect. To Captain du Fresne’s relief the dark skin did not fall upon his neck, but he did him the honour of laying against his nasal organ his own mofco-decorated proboscis, much to the covert amusement of the pakeha company, who inwardly congratulated themselves on their lesser rank when they found they were not favoured with a similar attention. The chief was a noble-looking man (not only, as subsequently appeared, the greatest warrior cf his hapu, but also its high priest*, for they found to their surprise, these flippant Frenchmen, that they had not left religion behind them, the ancient Maori being, like the bulk of Christendom, very punctilious in the matter of religious forms and ceremonies). He wore round his shoulders a handsome feather cloak falling over a wide-bordered garment of si ky texture reaching to his feet. In his hand he held a long carved club, flax and feather garnished. His hair, drawn back and held in a tuft by a carved wooden comb, was decorated by several long stiff feathers, and from neck and ears depended images of greenstone and bone. Behind him were grouped his womenfolk, his favourite wife, a young and fine-looking wihine known by the name of Ma-rika-rika (the pleasant) in their midst. All, including the thronging villagers, seemed in gala dress ; in their hair feathers and flowers, on their faces streaks and patches of red paint, around necks and in earlobes various ornaments—in some cases feathers were drawn through the pierced cartilage of the nose, giving a singularly grotesque appearance to the face—and all the women and large numbers of the men were robed in richly bordered flaxen wrappers or cloaks of feathers or dogskin. None were absolutely nude save the brown-limbed youngsters tumbling about among the odd-looking native dogs, which, by their yelping, had added materially to the din of welcome accorded to the strangers. Te Whatu Moana led his visitors to the verandah of the whare-moa, in and about which were congregated the ‘ upper ten ’ of Maoridom, and where they were accommodated with thick soft mats in lieu of chairs. An eloquent silence here intervened, not the silence of ignorance or gaucherie, but of strict etiquette, the result of native politeness. Not the slightest constraint was visible anywhere. All sat with eyes full of interest, kindness, or curiosity, as it might happen, but with lips studiously silent, until such time as it was supposed their visitors might have become familiar with their surroundings. The visual organs of the Frenchmen, indeed, were not slow to rove. Nothing escaped them, from the curiously carved posts of their lodging to the rounded limbs of the shrinking Maori maidens. The most conspicuous object from where they sat was a compact and apparently impregnable fortress built upon the sloping side of a wooded height on the mainland, and a future visit to it was among the unspoken vows of the occasion. Nearer hand were objects full as interesting. The habitations of the Maori, built promiscuously near together, and of varying size, were extremely picturesque, although not exactly fulfilling European ideas of healthfulness and comfort. Their walls were too low, and their ventilating and lighting arrangements too primitive for that, but to the artistic eye they were eminently satisfactory. Their form oblong, deeply gabled ; their dark red pilasters and carved ridgepoles ; their low walls, coated with bulrushes, ornamented with reeds ; the soft colours of the painted woodwork, combined to form a whole interesting at least to look at, despite the diabolique though curious images abounding in their decoration. They were, however, chimneyless, one-roomed, and provided with but two openings, the low doorway and a square aperture in the wall, each supplied with a wooden shutter. Many of the houses (native name wharf ) were simple thatched huts minus external ornament ; others, such as that under whose wide verandah the Frenchmen were reposing, were profusely decorated within and without, every atom of the woodwork being elaborately carved. Towards the middle of the village they noticed a high staging supporting a canoe-like object, which, on inquiry, they found was a gong, which, struck by a wooden mallet in case of hostile attack, awakened echoes twenty miles distant. Odd-looking thatched structures perched on poles aroused their curiosity ; these they found were provision stores, so built to foil the festive native rat (I-iore). The pole palisading extending quite round the village was liberally adorned with the hideous wooden figures they had remarked on entering the kainga, and at intervals were odd circular balls having a remarkable likeness to tufted Maori heads stuck on poles. On some of the less distant they could almost have sworn they saw the moko lines. Very soon the pakehas were invited to partake of food, which looked clean and appetising enough, served up in small flat baskets of green flax. The dishes were various ; taro and kumara steamed and served with fish, smoked and fresh, cooked to a nicety ; shell fish and roasted fernroot ; hinau cakes and birds preserved in their own fat ; baked meats in variety, at which the • Hereditary chiefs frequently exercised the sacerdotal function.

more fastidious looked askance ; infant fish ‘ all alive oh and wriggling ; mosses, lichens, worms, seaweed and insects. Sweets also ; hinau berries, koninis, karakas, etc., and wine of tutu berries, served in calabashes of gourd rind ; also water of the purest. The Frenchmen could willingly have foregone the banquet, but dread of wounding the susceptibilities of their new friends overcame their natural repugnance, and some of the dishes really tasted very well. The more doubtful-looking they avoided, asking no questions for digestion’s sake. The lion-feeding came to an end more speedily than the banquet of civilization, and then ensued a korero (talk), preceded, however, by a liberal distribution of pakeha gifts. The speechifiers, all and sundry, seemed glib of tongue, dealing largely in figures of speech and flourishing of clubs, moving to and fro with a stately and emphatic tread. Although but half understood, it was evident that they were anxious to divine the object and intentions, and to discover the whence of the white strangers. The korero over these were escorted back to the boats amid pressing invitations to repeat their visit, and friendly cries of ‘ Haera ra ’ (you proceed). ******* The foreigners now steered for the island of Wai-iti, from whence sounds of mourning had now and again been wafted to their ears at Motu Arohia. They were welcomed by Taranui with considerably less of ceremony, perhaps because his sojourn with them made him feel more familiarity, perhaps because of the distractions agitating his people, for nearer proximity proved an alarming hubbub in progress in the rear of the kainga. This was situated on rising ground, and so effectually protected by a pole fence of extra strength that it bore the appearance of a stockade. The hideous wooden figures the voyagers had remarked in such numbers at Motu Arohia were here equally abundant, and they therefore jumped to the erroneous conclusion that they were idols, and as such, reflecting but little credit upon the intelligence of their worshippeis. Later on they found that though the Maori had ‘gods many,’ he was not an idolator. Taranui, who, like some civilized husbands and fathers, seemed to have grown more taciturn since his return home, after pointing out to the captain some raupo (bulrush) huts in a pleasant vale at some distance from the kainga, beside which busy labourers were erecting similar structures, gave him to understand that these were to be his people’s quarters during their stay. Captain du Fresne was for various reasons pleased to find that they were not expected to reside in the kainga itself. In case of treachery, which, however he did not fear, they would be safer outside, and besides, although the Maori villages were remarkably clean for barbarian settlements, and free from absolutely offensive sights and smells, yet the air about was heavy with a rank fishy odour by no means agreeable to European nostrils.* And then there were fleas, hosts of them ; not the tame and sluggish insects incidental to European civilization, but nimble hoppers, whose agility had probably been developed by ages of active pursuit, for the silently observant of the strangers noticed many a squatting figure earnestly examining his toga-like draperies for the small depredator, which, ‘ swift to shed blood,’ was equally alert at evading capture, but which when caught was punished, and at the same time annihilated between aboriginal ivories ; wherefore the Frenchmen ignorant of the law of utu, imagined their new friends regarded their tiny foes as gustatory dainties. Conversation —if that can be called such, which consisted chiefly of pantomimic action —dragged considerably, and every now and again, as a higher note of lamentation from the rear denoted an accession of grief in the invisible mourners, the chiefs serious visage would lengthen and his aspect become more sombre, until his visitors began to feel themselves somewhat de trop. It was observed that both he and his attendant warriors had circlets of green leaves upon their heads, but neither their get up nor demeanour could be described as festive. A ray of gratification dawned upon Taranui’s sober countenance when he found that among other gifts the captain had brought him some cognac, but the momentary light died out, leaving it gloomy as the grave. He had made the captain share his mat, allowing the others to take up their own positions, and presently these, tired of the monotony of the interview, and maybe a trifle inquisitive with respect to the dismal din in the background, wandered off through the settlement in company with such of the natives as seemed most companionable. Meanwhile, a party of natives was seen entering the principal gateway arid making for the spot where Taranui sat. Their leader, advancing, fell upon the old chiefs neck, and, with heads buried beneath their wrappers, the two tangi'd until Captain du Fresne thought his ears would split. The other members of the new party had each found fellows, and as they rent the air with their lugubrious outcries it seemed as if Bedlam had been let loose. Etiquette kept the captain a prisoner till they should cease, but he mentally vowed that if he survived the doleful ceremony no power on earth should keep him longer. But when, the party having passed on he rose to make his adieux, he found himself solus, and perforce had to endure his unenviable position some time longer, for his late companions had come upon a scene which held them spellbound by its revolting barbarity. They had wandered slowly through the intricacies of the kainga, noting its various features and getting gradually nearer the theatre of woe whence came the doleful cries which disturbed them, when they caught sight of what looked like a row of human figures dangling from a high staging at the back of the settlement. Arnaud’s enquiries elicited the fact that these were indeed human beings—or rather what was left of them—being none other than the newly-made widows of warriors who had perished in the drifting war canoe. It was en regie, it appeared, for favourite wives and also * The Maori of to-day is himself becoming sensitive in respect of unpleasant odours, as was exemplified in the case of a tawny masher, who at a recent native meeting at Sutiki pa, Wanganui, was seen to hold his nose while exclaiming in disgust : ‘ Oh, Clipes ! Beetly tiuk !’

for slaves to follow their lieges to te liringa (Hades), there to perform those offices to which they had been accustomed on earth. The visitors felt no inclination for a nearer inspection of these ill-fated creatures, and were about retracing their steps, when a heart-rending outburst of grief again attracted their eyes to where a large number of natives, chiefly females, were massed together, with crouching figures rocking to and fro, and bowed head chapleted in green. To these had arrived the party whose tangi had so upset Du Fresne. In the centre of the crowd they had halted and repeated that performance with even more emphatic demonstrations of sorrow, real or simulated. Suddenly, when this had lasted some little time, the friends separated, and those of the village, starting to their feet, gave vent to a series of soul-harrowing howls mingled with violent bodily contortions. Irresistible curiosity drew the Frenchmen nearer,, and they saw to their horror that the writhing figures, all apparently those of females, were in a frightful state of self-laceration. With sharp instruments in eitherhand, or changed from one to the other, they were gashing their bare breasts and arms in themostfrightfulmanner. The facesof some were horribly disfigured with gaping wounds and clotted blood, and at the feet of all were coagulating pools of the same sanguinary fluid. It was a horrid spectacle, and Arnaud, as he learned from his companion, a pleasant-faced youth, that this was an invariable custom of Maori mothers, wives, sisters and sweethearts on the untimely death of their loved ones, wondered no longer that his friend Naku-roa had postponed any proffer of hospitality to the strangers until he had got through such a very unpleasant business. His tribe having lost nigh fourscore warriors including his father, the scene of mourning in his settlement might be expected to rival pandemonium. The gay Gauls had by this time had enough of native institutions for one day, so turning their backs on the ghastly sights, and fearful outcries of the interior, they sought the front of the stockade, where they found the commandant impatiently awaiting them.

(To be continued.)