ROUGH TIMES.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume IV, Issue 186, 20 October 1876, Page 7

ROUGH TIMES.

(Rev. Father G-arin's Lecture continued.) At the time of the destruction of Kororareka, I was stationed amongst the Maoris at Kaipara, but as soon as I heard of the affair I started with two or three natives to go and see the Bishop. It was a journey of three or four days' walk. Perhaps it may be interesting for several of you to hear how, in those days, travelling was effected. There was then no cart road, no bridle track, no coach, no railway, no mule nor horse to he used for travelling ; now a river, then a forest ; then a swamp one or two miles wide ; a large extent of rush or fern ground ; sometimes a deep gully, a creek at the bottom ; then again another deep hill to ascend. At that season of the year, and in that latitude, which is much warmer than that of Nelson, it was more convenient to travel during the night, and to sleep in the middle of the day, under some trees, behind a flax bush, or in the forest, without the fear of being disturbed by any venomous reptile or wild animal. To be able to travel thus, each man carries with him a little Maori kit or basket, and as the ground abounds in many places with kauri gum, which he can find in lumps now and then on the path, he picks them and fills his basket. Then when the night comes on, he forms with thin manuka sticks, which he ties together, a sort of tube 3ft. long in the shape of a folded umbrella, then folding that tube with little lumps of the kauri gum, he sets the fire on the top, and so he is provided with a splendid torch, which he carries during the night, and by the light of which ha travels. As to provisions for the way, my natives had to carry each in his basket, for bread, potatoes, and for meat, a large cake made with a quantity of eggs mixed with flour* and .baked beforehand. Thus provided, we made our first journey partly by water, in a canoe, on the Mangakahia Eiver, and partly on bush land. Our second journey we began early in the morning, slept four or five hours during the heat of the day, started again at 3 in the afternoon, travelled all the night by the light of our torches till 9 o'clock of the next day; that is 18 hours' walk. Then we felt quite prepared to rest ourselves and enjoy a good sleep during the heat of the day. At 3 o'clock in the afternoon we began our third day's journey, which ended at 3 o'clock the next morning — that is 12 hours' walk — and so arrived at the bay which we were going to cross. Those long hours in travelling were of course divided by our meals, regulated by the accommodation houses. But in those days they had not the same size or shape as they now have ; indeed they were very much longer, and had a more spacious roof ; it was nothing else but the canopy of heaven, and by the side of a nice stream of water, shaded by some little bush. Then a Maori had soon gathered some sticks and lit a fire, whilst the other was engaged in pressing a fern stick through the half-a-dozen or so of potatoes which he laid across the fire, taking care to turn them until they were all roasted. Then taking them out of the fire, he would whip them with some fern leaves until they were all skinned

off, and offered to the hungry stomachs as clean, floury, and delicious a dish as anyone could enjoy at home. A.dd to this the little egg cake, as TcinaTci, and the whole moistened with a draught of clear, cold water, which you either drink in the palm of your hand, or out of the stream. Is, then, the traveller so much to be pitied, and does he not feel inclined, after such a, meal, to thank Divine Providence for such a comfort ? Sometimes, if we were surprised by rain, as we had with us another kind of accommodation house consisting of an umbrella, I used to spread it, and crawling underneath, invite one or two Maoris, who were quite satisfied if they only felt their heads sheltered. But to resume my subject. We arrive on the fourth day at Uuku's place, where I used to find a canoe or boat to cross the bay, as would be from Moutere to "Nelson. But what a sad spectacle is before us ! Large canoes full of sashes, doors, half -broken teacups and saucers, bags of flour with big holes, locks, binges, iron tools •which had all passed through the fire, damaged prints, candle8 ricks, saucepans ; women having on ladies' dresses, which from one shoulder hang down under the other, on their heads bonnets topsy-turvy. " Saeremai .'" one cries to me with a most excitabla and bold manner, " come and have a cup of tea. Here is some flour; do you want bread?" Everyone is moving about, shouting, laughing, and singing. Here stands Euku, having on a red coat, the spoil of a soldier, a soldier's cap, and a stick in lieu of a sword in his hand, which he agitates round his head, crying loudly, " Pee off ! Pee off !" to mimic the shopkeeper who used to keep the Maori away from his shop '• Be off !" My heart at this sight was so sad that I could hardly touch any food. Then when I was following him to his house, he would again boast and continue his Ibouncing. All the while I was thinking and saying with myself "You do not know that you are soon going to catch it." Indued a few weeks afterwards, in an engagement with the troops, he fell dead under the first fire. However, when we were talking together, he asked me if I wanted his boat to cross the bay ? I accepted, crossed the bay, and arrived at Kororareka, where I found all the priests of the north, ■who had also come from their respective stations to seethe Bishop. On my arriving, the Bishop asked me " How did you cross the bay ?" I answered, "In the usual way." " Who lent you a boat?" I replied, " Euku." "Is it possible ?" the Bishop exclaimed. " Well, you had a narrow escape ; that very man had come with all his tribe for the purpose of killing the whole of us and plundering us as a iitu or revenge for the English who had been killed and plundered ; but finding some tribes who had remained to protect us, ne said, " they had come to cry over their dead." After the ceremony was over, they had gone home, filling tlieir canoes with all they could find. On the same evening we had rather a startling incident. After tea, on a clear night, -when we were chatting in the sittingroom, the Bishop had gone outside and was quietly taking a walk by himself in the yard. All on a sudden, his lordship, over whose head a Maori had raised his tomahawk, rushes in, and without saying a word, though inclined to cry out "Save your lives!" passes in the midst of us and goes behind the front door, cautiously opening it, and seeing some Maoris coining under the verandah, he says, "What do you want?" Tbey answered, "Who was outtide just now?" "It was I," the Bishop replied. "Was it?" "Yes." " All right, all right," they say ; " let us go in." The Bishop, understanding there had been a mistake, let them in. They walked in confusedly, talking loudly, armed with tomahawks, axes, guns, and spears; half naked, with blackened faces; and said that they saw somebody outside, and they thought it was a foreign spy, for all the white population had left the town. The Bishop, after having told them they were great children, and that they ought not to be so hasty in their proceedings, thanks them for their devotedness. Ac that moment I told my companion, if these savages meaa evil, they could easily get rid of us, for we are entirely in their hands. We thank Providence, which had made use of these Maoris to protect us. The fact that I was told by the natives, when I came back from Kororareka, that it had been reported I had been killed, and my head split in two, showed me I had great reason to thank Providence. The next day I took a walk through the burnt town, picking up by the way bullets, and saying to myself, " Perhaps these have killed somebody." I also went to the placo where the flagstaff stood, laid now on the ground. I could see how cleanly the axes had cut the iron plates. I noticed holes 6ft. deep which the cannon balls had made in the clay which had been heaped at the foot of the thick planks which formed the blockade. Everything created in my mind peculiar feelings — sadness, admiration, and sympathy, — sadness at the sight of a whole town, populated before, now silenced and reduced to a heap of ashes ; of so many families, fathers, mothers, and children who had lost their homes and been obliged to flyaway; — admiration at the courage and bravery of men fighting for their land, and yet putting aside those savage customs of slaughtering, cooking, and eating; their victims, as they not long before had been used to do. After having paid my visit of condolence to the Bishop, I returned to my station at Kaipara. A short time after Kororareka had been destroyed, Heke and his troop, expecting soon to have the soldiers again at his heels, retreated — first to Hoeawai, where he was defeated in different engagements ; and at last in the middle of a large forest, where he built «t Te Euapekapeka the strongest pah. the Maoris had ever built. Whilst the work was going on, a party of them came to see me at Matingakahia. One of them was son of Euku. In the battle he had a bullet through his neck, which, cutting the sinews, disabled him. for life, so that his arms were hanging loosely down, and be was not able to raise them. His mates said that it Avas a judgment, for he had been stealing the white men's horses, and

now it was impossible for him to steal them tmy more. This man, speaking of tlie pah or fortress Heke was erecting with large trees, said it was the strongest the Maoris had ever had, and that no power could dislodge them from ic. 1 told him, although I wag not much acquainted with that kind of work, that it was an easy matter for the pakeha to break down that stronghold. 1 even ventured to say, -what in their ideas could appear reasonable, that the soldiers would point the big guns to one place — a first ball woula make a little breach, a second would make it larger, a third larger still, and so they would keep on firing until a good breach was made, and then they would take them by storm. This indeed happened as I told them. But 1 was sorry to hear that this had been done on a Sunday. The natives, never dreaming that the white men would fight on a Sunday, had. left their guns aside, a»i gone to their prayers, as they had been taught by the lnissionarEjj to do on Sundays. But, to their great surprise, it was at that very moment the battery began to play. The Maoris had no other chance but to evacuate the fortification by an opening in the back. They had wisely cleared through the bush a road about 6ft. wide, through which they retreated, crossing a swamp that I have crossed many times, and encamping on an elevation at the edge of another large forest, putting the English troops in the impossibility of following them, because these Maoris could disperse in that extensive forest in every direction, like rats. (Concluded next week.)