CHAPTER I.

New Zealand Illustrated Magazine, Volume I, Issue 7, 1 April 1900, Page 497

CHAPTER I.

©NE calm and pleasant evening in the early spring of 1863, two Maori boys were fishing for eels in the large swamp at the back of Meremere, a little village fronting the clear, swift Waikato. Darkness had settled over the land, and scarce a sound

broke the deep stillness. The boys, intent upon their sport, talked but little, and then in low voices, unconsciously tuned to the perfect repose around them. A small fire,

burning close by thorn, served to attract tho fish to the spot in large numbers, and — for so profound was the stillness — one could plainly hear the peculiar sucking noiso made as they rose to the surface of the water. "Ha, Nini ! " suddenly exclaimed the taller of the lads, " I have him at last, and he is a big one ! " Rapidly hauling in his line, he landed a tine silvery eel, a couple of feet long, (irmly secured by the sharp steel hook. " Look, Nini," continued the young fisherman, as he cautiously, and with some difficulty, unhooked his wriggling prize, "see how firm the pa kehas hook has caught him ! I. should never havo got him with the old bone hook hanging in my father's whare. Ah, it is keen and strong, like tho imkehas themselves ! Truly they are wise and cunning, the pa/cehas, and i would see more of them." " True, Tautini," replied his comrade, " they are wiser than we, but they are also greedy, and would take away tho lands of the Maori." "But," returned the first speaker, "they are not all cruel and greedy. They aro mostly like the Pihopa Herewini* that old Rangiamohia has told us about. Yes, I would fain learn more of them and their ways." "Ah well, Tautini, for me, 1 am quite happy here. When lam older I will marry Tohe, and live comfortably here in Meremere, and surely that will be better than going far away among strange people like the pakehas ? But come, let us return to the jpa. We have enough fish now, and I am sleepy." * Bishop Solwyn,

"Ay," replied the taller, and besides I want to hear what the strangers from the North hare to tell us at the Jcorero to-night. Let us go." The two boys seated themselves in a small canoe and paddled off with quiet and easy sti'oke. Crossing a broad arm of the swamp they entered a small creek, which, fed from the marsh, emptied itself after a short course into the Waikato. A few minutes' paddling' brought them out on to the rapid current of the river, and, turning down stream, they made their way to the Meremere pa Both the lads were fine stui'dy specimens, Tautini (a chief's son) being somewhat the taller and more slightly built. He was straight and supple, with keen, bright eyes, his whole bearing forming somewhat of a contrast to the more stolid, thick-set appearance of his comrade, Nini. As the boys were soon to know, there were great events gathering in the Waikato district in that month of October, 1863. It was about nine o'clock when Nini and Tautini reached the pa. After placing their fish in safety, they immediately went to the big meeting whare, in which the horero mentioned by Tautini was commencing. The whare was crowded to the utmost to hear the new arrivals, and the lads joined the throng with feelings of interest and curiosity. The events of that night were graven deep in Tautini's imaginative mind. The natives — both men and women — sat crowded together upon the floor of the dimlylighted building, which was lined with quaint and ancient carvings. At the far end sat the chief, a strong, vigorous, middle-aged man, and by his side the Tohunga or priest, At the sharp command of " Silence ! " the steady hum of conversation ceased abruptly, and one of the strangers from the North rose to address the assembly. In dignified and flowing words, enforced by facile gestures, he related to the attentive listeners all the trouble that had arisen with the white man. ' How, far, away in Taranaki, quarrels Imd broken out in connection with a piece of land : which the palceM, in defiance of the : immemorial custom of the Maori, claimed as <

his own, and how their brothers in that district had long been defending themselves against the greedy white man. How in their own district, in spite of solemn warnings, the road had been pushed right into Maori land. How the whole country was rushing to arms to defend the rights of the Maori against the perjured foe. Brandishing a spear above his head, the orator, with fiery vehemence, called upon his liearers to prove themselves men, and to strike hard for their liberty and their lands. Scarcely had he ceased than there sprang up old Whaitiri, he who had fought of old against Hongi, and later still, had followed the great Heke, and shared in the sack of Kororareka. With burning words he called aloud for war, war to the very death ! Warrior after warrior followed, each crying for vengeance against the treacherous, grasping foe. The slinging words sent the hot blood surging through Tautini's veins as he sat drinking in the burning eloquence. Ah, how he longed to strike for his race against the pitiless white ! How he clenched his fingers, and almost gasped for breath when his father, the chief, in tones of uncontrollable fury, called upon his people to fight even to the death in defence of their rights, their homes and their children ! The tense, quivering forms around him showed how the lust for war was seizing the minds of the savage listeners. Suddenly is heard a voice chanting the old, old war chant, ages old, handed down by generation after generation of warriors, tracing its origin to the dim, misty past. One by one the listeners take it up, till gradually the swelling sound, with strong, sustained electric fervour, strikes weirdly upon the ear, and sends the blood coursing madly through the veins. With rhythmic wail and rhythmic beat, now swelling, now sinking with strange, monotonous, almost unbearable intensity it continues, dying away at last in barbaric minor wail. Ah, how the peaceful villagers are transformed ! The mad fury of their lust for fighting almost overmasters them. Their eyes start from the sockets, their mouths and

tongues roll in hideous, devilish rage, their whole frames quiver with the frenzied emotion that possesses them.

Tautini is no longer a boy. He is a man now, he is indeed the chief's son, burning to lead his braves to victory. He will do great

deeds ; the whole land shall ring with his fame ; the pakeha shall fear him as the lightniiig ; he will drive the ■pakeha backward into the sea. "Arise ye bold, arise, And stem the flood ; Shout loud the battle cry, And storm and conquer !"