THE DESERT OF NEW ZEALAND.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XVII, Issue XXII, 28 November 1896, Page 106

THE DESERT OF NEW ZEALAND.

BY MR JAMES ADAMS.) CONTINUED FROM PAGE 69. j ALONG the coast from Reef Point to Cape Maria Van Diemen it is one long stretch of sand except at Scott’s Point (Puke Kurea) which acts like a buttress on the West Coast. This headland ex tends for about a mile and a-half along the coast, and consists of red and green slates and sandstones. On the summit the sand in some places is regularly stratified, and the process of passing into sandstone is well shown. The headland has not the stern, weather-worn appearance of Cane Maria Van Diemen ; but this, no doubt, arises from the fact that the latter rocks are more isolated. Between Scott’s Point and Cape Maria Van Diemen we camped at Taupiri. This little spot was reached by toiling over loose .sand for about a mile, and as a camping ground it is perfect. There is a pretty stream of water with plenty of Watercress, an open green sward, and all around plenty of large useful tea tree (Lephospermum\. The little stream ends in a raupo swamp, where the cyperus is unusually large, and on the drier soil the clumps of phormium grow and flourish equally well. It was a pretty little spot, and to complete the illusion that we were not in the midst of a sandy waste, a lark was singing his loudest and sweetest at 5 a m. A few minutes’ walk brought us over the hill and in sight of the lighthouse. The island on which the lighthouse stands is about four hundred yards distant from the mainland. It is a rounded rock 420 feet high, and looks what it is—a watch tower. The narrow strait is always rough, and the rugged rocks at the water’s edge are always covered with spray. Even at low water there is a current eastward that runs like a mill-race. But even there, lonely as it looks, one cannot feel very far from home, as the telephone posts stand firm in the rocks and the wire spans the restless strait. We had not been sitting on the hillside very long when we saw a party of men launching a boat from the lighthouse island. Mr Raynor, the keeper, knew we were coming, but we hoped, as there was a slight breeze, that they would not venture across. It was calm on the lighthouse side, and over they did come. As they neared the shore we hurried down to a sandy spot where the landing seemed feasible ; but they, better acquainted with the coast, turned the boat's head to a point above a large rock that jutted out on theshore. We hurried up, and as we neared the spot a wave seemed to lift the boat high up and when we got near they were all in the water —the boat overturned and the oars scattered. Mr Raynor saw a large oar being swept away and in he plunged or it. As he struggled to shore he was rolled over more than once. It was a very exciting moment for us After talking some time about curiosities in natural history they launched the boat at a suitable moment, and were on the point of starting, when a large wave rolled in, tossed the boat over, and men and oars were again scattered in the water. Then, to our great satisfaction, Mr Raynor decided to draw up the boat and wait till lowwater, when there would not be such a swell on What this strait is in rough weather anyone can now imagine for himself. Mr Raynor then took us where relics of primitive man are found, such as stone axes, sinkers, and fish hooks made df shell. We actually picked up some fish hooks, or part of fish hooks. They appear to resemble, though in pieces, the shell-fish hooks of the Pacific islanders. We noticed on the beach farther on, that what was apparently sand was in reality shells ground up fine by the surf, and either swirled into heaps or formed into regular banks. Higher up the shore and well away from the water are mounds of land shells (Placostylus N Z.) This is another proof of the long lapse of time since the natives left the first refuse of their food on those bare shores. The lighthouse island evidently supplied the snails, which were collected in small quantities and at long intervals. Cape Maria Van Diemen is one of the buttresses that protect the North part of the island from the force of the Pacific. The others are Te Reinga, Hunter's Point, and Muri Motu or North Cape. Of these Te Reinga is the best known. It is the place in Maori belief to which all departed spirits go, and from which they take their final leap (rcre) into the spirit land. I bad read some account that made it appear that the hill was very steep, and the Reinga hard to approach. I fe't, therefore, a little anxious, and wished we had a whole day to explore the place ; but as a matter of fact the hill is not steep and the approach is not dangerous. The top of the hill that slopes to the Reinga has tracks leading to it from all directions, which makes me suppose that the northern Maoris have a proverb : • Every road leads to Reinga.’ The descent is moderately steep, and near the bottom of the hill the ground is broken, and shell heaps and kitchen middens show that the neighbourhood did not, at one time in the history of the natives, hinder residence there. Lower down there was a half-buried skull and other human bones. At the very bottom is the Wairata, a little stream over which, if the spirit crosses, there is no return. The further course is over rugged rocks that rise gradually into very steep sharp pointed peaks, forming a ridge that runs two or three hundred yards into the sea, and ends abruptly in a steep cliff. On the top of this cliff grows the well-known pohutukawa, whose gnarled roots extend a short way down the face of the cliff. The spirit is said to take hold of one of these roots, to alight on the broad platform of rock at the foot of the cliff, and to plunge beneath the mass of seaweed that covers the deep water at the end of the platform. On the west side the cliffs are especially weird-looking and awe-in-spiring. The sea rushes in with great force through rugged rocks, and in the hard slate has hollowed out large caverns at the base of the cliff. The pounding action of the surf lias made similar pits in the platform at the eml of the cliff. It may be supposed that the Maoris with their clergy and

their churches are little influenced by their old beliefs ; but this is not the case. Te Reinga is to them the direction the departed spirit takes. It is the place where the final leap is taken into the world of spirits. A lady well acquainted with the natives and familiar with their language told me a story that proves this very clearly. ‘A young native woman,’ she said, ‘ was lately lying ill for some days when she suddenly to all appearance died. Her friends assembled as usual, and the tangi was in full force when her colour slightly returned and she opened her eyes. A short time afterwards she said, “ I have come back from Te Reinga.” Then, of course, her friends asked her what had happened. “I do not remember,” she said, “how I went till I had crossed the stream at Topute putu. Then I wrapped my blanket round me and I saw Waiata (a relative) walking in front. She was very kind to me when she was alive. Waiata led the way up the hill and out on the narrow track that leads round the cliff. I tried to get up to her ; but she always kept the same distance in front with a shawl wrapped round her head. I could hear the great noise of the sea as it dashed against the foot of the cliff, and I saw the Reinga, as it stood out clearly in the moonlight. There were two figures gliding over the steep rocks, one near the pohutukaw a and one past the Wairata Then I knew that I was dead and that it was the spirit of Waiata that was leading me on. A horrible feeling of dread came over me as I thought of plunging beneath the floating seaweed. And I so longed to be back again in the bright world with little Tea and with all I loved that I tried to turn round and come back, but I could not do so. I tried to stand, but something hurried me on. Then I wanted to scream aloud, but I could hear nothing, nothing but the booming of the great sea in my ears. We had now left the cliff and were going up the incline to the Reinga Hill, when I hurried on to plead with Waiata ; but she ever kept the same distance in front. As I turned to go down the slope of the Reinga, the wind blew so strong in my face that I could not keep my blanket round me, so I stooped down and pulled a leaf of flax to tie it. At that instant I woke up and found you all crying.” ’ The Maoris indulge in no figurative language as we do in attempting to describe the mysterious disappearance of the spirit after it leaves the body—a subject that men have pondered over in all ages. With them the direction of the journey, the events upon the road, and the place of repose are all definite and clear. If, however, we generalize and speak of the narrow steep descent, the passage of the river of death, and the further '•ugged journey to the place of repose, there are points in which their description resembles that given by some civilised nations. The ridge of rocks runs north in a line with the position of the sun at midday, and their spirit world is where they might suppose the sun to shine at midnight. Hunter’s point is the third great buttress composed of old slate rocks. It stands well out to the sea, and protects the more destructible brecciated rocks at Kapo, Wairua. The latter are properly volcanic conglomerate —in appearance exactly like concrete blocks, but formed on such a scale as Nature alone can work. They rise up into high hills or pointed rocks of fantastic shapes. Near the sea a bare column of this rock towers up to a height of five hundred feet. One is not so much struck by its cylindrical shape or by the weather-worn brown and yellow sides as by the fact that the towering mass leans inward, and hence its name maunga piko (leaning mountain) Further inland the breccia forms a lofty mass of rock. The sides in some places are perpendicular cliffs with caves hollowed out, especially near the top, and evidently by the action of the waves, and this shows how slowly the whole mass rose from beneath the sea. Through the middle of this mass of rock a stream forces its way and near the flat it forms a pretty waterfall. When we climbed up the side of the waterfall we found not only a pretty stream, but an unusually rich vegetation. Following the stream still farther up the rocks form lofty walls on either hand with deep cavities in the sides. MAORI CURIOSITIES. During the four weeks of the expedition I heard more about Maori curiosities than I had heard in my life - how they are hunted for, where they are found, and by what schemes those supposed to be safely guarded are purloined. I suppose the way we travelled, with two pack horses and a Maori guide, made people think that we must have invented a new and profitable plan for collecting valuables. Anyhow, Maori curiosities were generally the subject of conversation with the strangers we met or at the houses where we stopped. Of course we were independent of houses, as we had our tent and our provisions ; but our guide did not pitch the tent when there was a house where we could sleep. When so lodged the conversation was sure to turn on Maori curiosities, aud after seeing the private collection we heard of the eagerness with which these relics of the past are sought after by speculators The finest collection we saw was at Mr Yates’ at Parengarenga. There were kiwi mats, toi mats, meres, tikis, jade earrings, jade needles, several specimens of the Maori spade (Zro), and also carved and plain net sinkers. I have a very pleasant recollection of Mr Yates’ house. When it was reached we had been camping out about a week; so that we thoroughly enjoyed the warm welcome and the generous hospitality that we received from Mr and Mrs Yates and their family—strangers as we were. It was a great contrast after roughing it for a few davs to come unexpectedly on the comforts of a well-kept house, aud into the society of a well-educated and refined family. On the tramp, it was amusing to see with what suspicion the Maoris would eye the sacks and with what eagerness they would question our Maori, who, for his part, was only too glad to meet some one to whom he could narrate to the most minute particular what we were doing. Sometimes he had two hearers, sometimes four or five, and at Waitangi in Bowling Bay we had a full assembly. The natives rode up while we lay, at mid day, under the shade of a rock having dinner. There was the father with a boy carried in front on the

saddle, a woman with a baby, and three young men that in place of bridles for their horses had ropes tied to the lower jaw. One who was dressed in new store clothes used in this way a piece of red braid instead of a rope. Then there were two little boys on their lean nags with ropes for stirrups and ropes for bridles. Then three young women better mounted kept a little in the background. In addition to the animals they rode several had foals at foot, and there was also a spare horse carrying very large Turakihi. This motley group our Maori harangued for half an hour without, however, missing a bite. The head Maori was anxious to know if we had bones in the sacks. Our Maori said not human bones but a few Moa bones. This was a new subject of conversation, as not one of them had ever heard of the moa. They laughed at the story, but they laughed more at our collecting pieces of plants (rau ralrau). They could not believe that two men, old enough to have sense, would travel about the country at considerable expense for the sake of collecting plants that have no money value. If they could have been made to believe that we should spend an extra three months in preparing for a small audience an account of the trip, and that the only recompense to expect was that the account would be coldly received and severely criticised, then I feel sure that in their kindness of heart they would have given us into the care of their one policeman and seen that we were shipped on board the ‘ Staffa ’ and landed in Mongonui, where their responsibility would cease. At times the Maori got so excited in his talk that he leaned back in his saddle and waved his arms about so that I thought the boy would drop off. His eyes blazed as he pointed to the hills and to our sacks However, our Maori began again to pour forth his story that flowed from him like a river and the horseman was soothed. I found out afterwards that the stranger was complaining of the way low whites and low Maoris rob the burial places. ‘ They get into our most sacred places,’ he said. ‘ They climb down by the cliff or let themselves down by a rope and then steal, steal. They take the skulls one by one and shake them and if the skull rattles they break it open and take from it an earring or a ring or a tiki. Such creatures have no regard for religion, or for sanctity, or for honour. One great chief had a handsome coffin made for the skull and bones of his wife. This coffin he put in a most sacred place, the burial place of his tribe They stole the box and flung away the bones. Not long ago someone stole the armour of Hongi that had been buried with all secrecy and protected by all the ceremonial rites that made it sacred.’ Our Maori spoke very warmly on the subject of the systematic robbery of graves. He said he knew that the vile practice arose through the large sums paid by tourists for such relics, and that the dead would be robbed as long as money could be easily made. I could not help thinking that if anyone disturbed our burial places he would soon find himself in prison. FUTURE PROSPECTS. Gum is the one object of life in the extreme north for white man and for Maori. And when the gum is exhausted, the question is what will become of the district? With regard to the Maoris there need be no anxiety. They will of necessity become less itinerant; as they must cultivate more assiduously the kumara, the potato and the corn crops. They can always get from the sea, from the lagoons and from the streams abundance of fish and shell fish. At present with the aid of the white man, they can provide for their wants far better than in the past. Their horses will be no longer lean when the grass and other vegetation is allowed to grow. The white man also will settle down on the fertile spots to farm or to make vineyards or to grow oranges or lemons or figs. The only fruits that I saw in abundance were passion fruit, figs, and Cape gooseberries. The figs appear to grow without any care, and the Cape gooseberries are plentiful on the shore, where one would hardly suppose anything could grow. The sand cannot well be called barren when the pohutukawa and the Ngaio and the Cape gooseberry flourish in the very midst of it, even when exposed to the sea spray. The valleys, that are now abandoned by the gumdiggers, show that native grasses will grow well there when they have a chance, and although a good number of cattle on this large run are fat and sleek, yet under more favourable conditions the land will bear four times the number. Then it ought to be mentioned that the district has three good harbours—Mongonui, Hohoura. and Parengarenga. These are not mere anchorages, but beautiful land-locked harbours where the ships are as safe, in stormy weather, as in a dock. All of these are excellent fisheries, but to me Hohoura appears to be the best. In fact, the whole Northern coast is so excellent for fish that Hohoura aud Parengarenga would be admirable stations from which to send fish to Australia. This would be merely an extension of the fishing now carried on to meet the local demand. Parengarenga has a still more valuable asset in the bank of white sand near the entrance of the harbour. This sand is perhaps six square miles in extent and so pure that an attempt was made to have it brought to Auckland to be used at the glass works But the Maoris at once imposed a royalty of ten shillings per ton on the sand, and thus hindered it from being put to any use at all. This is a good example of the independence that the English people bestow on the meanest of their subjects. Here are the representatives of a tribe that fifty years ago was freed from slavery and restored to its former possessions. These people now live under the ages of a just and mighty nation, and they strut and swagger and lay down restrictions, as if they had been always princes in the land. Their extravagant claims will no doubt be remedied by imposing that same land tax on these bare-legged extortioners that was enacted to restrain the greed of the fashionable land speculators. When the matter is satisfactorily settled it may be found more convenient to erect glass works at Parenga renga—on a scale to supply not only New Zealand, but Australasia with articles made of glass. There is a possibility of coal being found in the neigh-

bourhood, and then, since fire clay abounds, immense works for the manufacture of pottery as well as glass may be erected there. Now that I have deviated from the statement of bare facts and have indulged in speculating about the future, I may as well go on to say that at Kapo Wairua there is an admirable jjlace for a nursery, where in addition to the ordinary kinds of plants those peculiar to the district could be grown in profusion. The colensoa, that queen of lobelias, already grows along the rocky stream. Near its banks could be grown the Veronica speciosa and V. diosniafolia and the carsiniaof Muri Motu ; while the bare rocks could be covered with the lovely hibiscus and the still more lovely japonica. The song birds are already there to herald in these happier times, for the first sounds we heard from our tent in the early morn was the song of the blackbird or the thrush or the lark. This new era of things is, however, for the distant future. At present there are some thousands of tons of gum sent yearly from the district, and there is little thought of any other kind of wealth except such as is connected with the finding and the selling of gum. [THE END.]