CHAPTER XI

NEW ZEALAND

Fascination of New Zealand - Appreciation of the Maori - Shipwreck of his noble life - Parson, police, and prison - The Bay of Islands - War dances - Hokianga - Consumption and the white man's clothing - Bishop Selwyn's devotion to the native cause - The Waikato River - Interesting excursion and narrow escape - Native chivalry - Military unpreparedness and traditional muddle - Two ring stories.

NEW ZEALAND - that most fascinating of countries - was now to occupy a large part of my time and to bring new interest into my life. It is a wonderful country, and looms on the imagination out of all proportion to its size, for it is rather smaller than the United Kingdom, whereas Queensland a mere geographical expression to many is six times larger. Much of the scenery of New Zealand is magnificent, with forests of most impressive grandeur, where grow the Kauri and the tree-fern, that exquisitely graceful plant. Rivers wind through the forests with every charm of that kind of scenery, whilst natural marvels - such as geysers, hot springs, and volcanoes - abound in many parts. In the Southern Island there is country quite equal to Switzerland, with ranges only a few feet lower than the Alpine giants, surrounded by glaciers larger than any in Europe, with beautiful lakes, gorges, torrents, and cascades, and with coast scenery almost unequalled.

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MAORIS OF THE PAST

In this land, in harmony with their surroundings and penetrated by their influences, living subject to laws well suited to their mode of life, and corresponding to their stage of civilisation, dwelt some 400,000 people of one of the finest races of mankind, when discovered - in 1769 - by the white man. Fearless, honest, and sober, their women almost invariably virtuous, it was difficult to see why Providence interfered with them, for beyond all doubt they were better off then than now. It is true they fought and also that they occasionally devoured each other, but they died with arms in their hands, and their cannibalism, besides being only ceremonial, was also, after all, a matter concerning no one else. The wonders of the heavens, sun, moon, and stars, light and dark, the wind in the forest, had given them that belief which is the universal basis of every other known to men. The Maori God was the Sun ; and darkness the Evil Spirit.

Once an old Maori pagan, who spoke English fairly well - having been a long time in Auckland - told me that he himself hoped for something on which he could lay tangible hold in his heaven, where men would still do brave deeds, where they would hunt the moa and have their wives near them ; with the mountains of New Zealand above them and the solid earth under their feet. To be for ever arm in arm with missionaries, and employ his time throwing crowns about did not appeal to him as a man - much less as a warrior. It might suit the Pakehah, but never a Maori.

As to the old Maori laws, they certainly protected his property and his home better than any he now enjoys. He preserved them both with his club, but now he employs a lawyer - who runs up bills and gives away his client as easily on the Waikato as in Lincoln's Inn Fields. Again, what struck my old pagan as an advantage

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in his belief was that, whereas his cost him nothing, the missionary religion cost his country enormous sums. However, I could not explain that, as I should have had to begin with the elementary history of the human race, back into the dimmest past, when shrewd men began to see that to plough souls is less fatiguing than to plough land, and that to draw bills on the Hereafter is a fairly safe business. I had a great respect for this tattooed, battle-scarred old chief, who sat surrounded by his totems - grotesque and gaudily-painted figures of roughly-carved wood, with their staring eyes and grinning mouths, ornamented with the teeth of a shark - himself clad in his long grass cloak, his jade-stone club by his side, seeming to listen for the voice of the Great Spirit as it walked through the forest behind him.

I have always thought it extremely doubtful if any warlike savage - after a certain age - could be got to comprehend religion in the abstract, with nothing concrete about it. And there is always the danger that during the process of indoctrination his mind may mix up the germs of his old faith with the new. Such a case certainly arose in New Zealand when that half-maniac, Te-Ua, preached his terrible creed, which went by the name of Hauhau, enjoining wholesale murder. I may be pardoned if I briefly give his history, for it is not only curious, but extremely instructive. Originally he was a mere wandering, epileptic vagabond, pretending to deal in occultism, and with some curious attraction for women about him. His proclivities in this respect often got him into trouble, and on a certain occasion he grossly insulted the wife of a chief, for which offence her husband tied him up with ropes, and threw him into a hole. But the Angel Gabriel came and released him. He was bound again, this time with chains, and again the Angel or the chief's wife, who was suspected of

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having acted like Potiphar's - came to his relief. The people therefore accepted Te-Ua as a man under Divine protection, for they mostly knew the story of St. Peter. Discovering this to be the view of the Maoris Te-Ua began to preach a distorted kind of semi-Jewish, semi-pagan Christianity, artfully utilising every word he could find in Scripture as to God's scheme of government by blood : following in this every reformer from Moses to Mahomet. He declared his country could only be regenerated by blood, and that it was the duty of every man to destroy his enemies - the Pakeha or whites in this case. It was the Children of Israel over again, and, in truth, with quite as much reason. The religion spread with extraordinary rapidity, the chief ceremony being to sing hymns and perform a solemn dance round a pole, called a Noo-i. These hymns were ancient airs revived, and the mere chanting of them aroused the people to frenzy. The Angel of the Wind - the meaning of the word Hauhau - was supposed to speak to them in these strains : voices of dead relatives, slain in the wars with the whites, to cry for vengeance. It was the most formidable danger that ever beset New Zealand. It swept away their older and more simple religion, and left them nothing but a revolting cross between ancient Paganism and Christianity.

The Maori had a high order of intellect and an extraordinary perception of the mental attitude of others, which enabled him to turn things to his own advantage. Though fierce and passionate, he generally had his temper in control and was not often gross or sottish. No doubt, though, the Maori of to-day is entirely different, as how - poor devil - could he escape from being, with an entirely unsuitable civilisation thrust on him? But the Maori I knew still owned his own land, obeyed his chief, followed the immemorial customs of his ancestors, and

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was a terror to us in arms. He was infinitely superior to any of the lower classes in Europe, and I would far rather have married a Maori girl and have settled down on the Waikato Kiver in company with these pagans, than have taken for my helpmate the sister of a Christian hooligan and have lived in a street in Lambeth, under the shadow of the Archbishop of Canterbury.

* * * * *

My first experience of Native New Zealand, as distinguished from Colonial, was an expedition with the Governor, Sir Thomas Gore Browne - a distant connection of mine by marriage - through a wild part of the Northern Island lying between the Bay of Islands, and Hokianga on the West Coast. The great Maori War was then plainly brewing, the natives thinking they were being dealt treacherously with as to their lands and ancient rights, an opinion shared by the disinterested amongst the whites.

The Bay of Islands - a splendid country - was inhabited by the most savage of the Maoris, amongst whom the condition of unrest was very manifest. They greeted us with sullen looks ; and, indeed, to witness the Haka or war dance - in which some thousand or fifteen hundred of them joined - their frantic gesticulations and scarcely-concealed hatred of us was rather a mixed joy, and well calculated to try the nerves of any one, knowing that it would only require the least spark to convert seeming play into sanguinary earnest. It was a tremendous spectacle, these masses of entirely naked savages, their eyeballs starting from their heads, their teeth gnashing, sweat pouring from their bodies, the rhythmic stamp of their feet, which seemed to shake the ground, their huge mer�s - the native club - and their hani - or spear - whirling in the air, whilst above the roar of their hoarse, guttural grunts could be heard the shrill, fiendish screams

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of the Tohangas - the priests - urging them on to still more violent exhibitions of fury.

After a day or two of Corroborries (called in Maori Koren), more war dancing and races between the huge war canoes - the most exciting aquatic exhibition I know - we started on our long ride across the island. The road lay for a great part of the way through a primeval forest of trees of gigantic size with undergrowth that had never been disturbed. The gloom in parts was almost oppressive, the air thick and enervating with the smell of damp mosses and rotting timber. Beyond a few of the great New Zealand pigeons, as big as a pheasant, there was little or no bird life, and only once did we see any signs of ground game, and that not indigenous, namely, a herd of wild pigs, descendants of some that had been landed as long ago as Captain Cook's day, and now as practically wild as the boar in the Ardennes. Our cavalcade was a fairly large one, some eight or ten whites and perhaps a hundred Maoris, amongst them Maori women, wives of the chiefs, riding their horses astride. Many of these people had hardly ever seen a white man, much less a white woman, and Lady Browne excited considerable interest amongst them. We reached Hokianga in due time, visiting the splendid falls of that river, the water leaping over great rocks at the head of the fall with a roar that could be heard for miles. The chief settlers here were missionaries of various cults, Romans, Anglicans, Presbyterians, and so forth ; all most honourable men, with whom it was an unwritten code never to blaze away at a Maori whom another missionary had landed. But the temptation must have been great, as naturally such a man represented the easiest prize, his theological leanings being always in the direction where most rum and blankets were to be had.

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Most of the Maoris in this district, especially those of higher rank, were tattooed all over the head with curious and intricate concentric patterns ; the women with only a few marks on the chin. This tattooing rendered their heads of great value when they were captured by their enemies, and, indeed, long after found a ready trade with white speculators, who bought them for European museums. It was quite possible for a white trader to point out a particular slave and ask for him to be tattooed, and then buy his head. Slaves were men captured in battle.

The old Maori dress was here almost universal, though rapidly disappearing farther south. It was extremely graceful and becoming, consisting mainly of cloaks of dyed flax - with very artistic designs - and of dogskin rugs, wrapped round them like a toga. In the immediate vicinity of the Missions the natives, however, had begun to adopt European garments, the women rendered hideous, and often indecent, by some draggled abomination in the form of a skirt, with perhaps a pea-jacket above it, and the men in untidy, ragged trousers. As they themselves disliked these things and only wore them to please the missionary or because they thought it conferred distinction on them, they universally threw them off when they got into their own wharés, with the result that the seeds of consumption - that fell disease which has more than decimated their race - were sown broadcast.

The Governor's business at Hokianga was a repetition of what had taken place in the Bay of Islands, namely, interviews with chiefs, war dances, and much manifestation of apparent loyalty. But with all this it was unpleasant to feel that one was walking over a volcano, and it was a relief to see the masts and yards of the Iris as we once more debouched from the forest on our return.

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We at once sailed for Auckland, then the capital of New Zealand - though since supplanted by Wellington - when for months and months this harbour became our headquarters, owing, I suppose, to the turbulent condition of the natives.

In no place did my shipmates and myself make more kind or genial friends than in Auckland, where the society was quite unlike that of Australia far simpler and far less ostentatious. Bishop Selwyn's house was always open to us all - especially us youngsters.

He was a man of most fascinating but dominating personality, and though he accomplished a work of unequalled magnitude and importance as an evangelist, not only in New Zealand but throughout Polynesia, still I always think he was a great Admiral or General thrown away. He was a born leader of men, and in the Roman Empire he might have been a Marcus Aurelius, acclaimed Imperator by the Army, and have been borne on their shields to don the purple at the Capitol. As it was, his incomparable energy and power of organisation fizzled out in starting missions. The Maoris adored him, and he held them in the palm of his strong hands. He was remarkably handsome and well made, except that his legs were too short. He had rather a brusque yet charming manner, whilst the highest virtues of man, including unselfishness carried to self-abnegation, seemed to live in him. I have never seen or known any man like him. There is no shade of doubt that by his power of will and the influence he exercised over the Maoris he saved the entire white population from massacre at a critical moment. He was a giant amongst the official pigmies that were then directing affairs in New Zealand, and, naturally, they hated him, and tried to fling dirt on his splendid achievements. It is true his policy and theirs were diametrically opposed, but in the hour of

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need, alone and unaccompanied, he rode out of Auckland late at night to meet the infuriated Maori chiefs, who were assembled a day's ride from the town, threatening to overwhelm the white settlers - as they could easily have done. Carrying his life in his hand the Bishop, in bold but quiet tone, addressed the assembled warriors, goaded to fury by injustice and treachery ; with a supreme contempt for the white man and his soldiers. It was an anxious hour, but the Bishop carried his point, and the horde of savages, with that great warrior, Tamihana, the King Maker, at their head, vanished once more into their forests, still brooding over their wrongs, it is true, and, as it turned out, only waiting their opportunity to be avenged.

* * * * *

THE WAIKATO.

To guard against captious criticism, I wish to say that I do not pretend to chronological accuracy as to the war and other events in New Zealand, as everything I narrate is from memory ; and the circumstances themselves are clearer than their sequence.

Shortly before the war broke out, I had an opportunity of visiting the Waikato District, starting out from Auckland with two of my messmates - Medley and Heneage and having with us John Gorst - afterwards a Commissioner in the Waikato District, under Sir George Grey, subsequently the brain of the Fourth Party and one of the cleverest men in the House of Commons.

We rode for a certain distance with a packhorse carrying our light traps, and then marched on foot through the wonderful forest to a small bush inn kept by a man called Selby, about a mile from the River Waikato. Here we fell in with Bishop Patteson, the celebrated Missionary Bishop of Melanesia, who was

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killed by the natives in the islands a few years later. He - with a number of his island black boys - was bound for a Church Festival at Kohanga, the Missionary Settlement of Archdeacon Maunsell. The Bishop greeted me most kindly - for he had been a great friend of my brother Harry at Eton - and struck me, as he did every one else, as a charming man, with a sweet and genial disposition. He suggested that our parties should join, as the country was much disturbed, and we gladly assented, paddling down the river to Kohanga in his canoes. Here we all put up at the Maunsells, and stayed there over Sunday, Gorst going away next day to his District, and we three of the Iris starting up the river again : sometimes in canoes and sometimes taking horse to shorten the road where the river curved. The scenery of the Waikato is exceedingly fine, with forest, mountain, and occasional broad sweeps of cleared land ; and at that time was well populated with Maoris. We were received with a show of cordiality in some places, but distinctly cold looks in others, for the war spirit was smouldering, and, indeed, we were thought foolhardy in risking ourselves amongst these reputedly treacherous natives. We passed many nights in their wharés, which were often of considerable size ; built of logs, with grotesque figures carved on posts standing in front or at the side. Our first halt was at Ngaruawahia, where the River Waipa - which waters a splendid country towards the East - falls into the Waikato. Here we put up with a chief to whom Bishop Selwyn had given us a letter - a fine old man, over seventy years of age, with a head that would have fetched a fortune for the beauty of its tattooing. We had been warned, however, that it is a grave offence to compliment a man on a personal adornment of so much commercial value, and that it was especially indiscreet to allude to a man's head even remotely. We spent two

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long days with this hospitable old man, whose family consisted of three daughters and one son - a grand specimen of mankind - who had brought home a young wife from the Taranaki District. She was hardly less remarkable in physique than her husband, with much of that aristocratic languor of manner which so often distinguishes the high-born Maori. Not long after both he and she were bayonetted in a rifle pit, in an attack made on a Pah by Captain Cracroft and the Niger's Naval Brigade ; for his wife, like many other Maori women, had followed her husband to the war.

After leaving Ngaruawahia we found ourselves in the Maori King's country - a potent warrior whose power England, as usual, had underestimated - and had reached a remote part of the Waikato when we were overtaken by a messenger despatched post-haste by the Governor, at the instigation of the Bishop, to recall us. For with perfect loyalty the Maori King had sent a secret message to the Bishop that he could no longer guarantee the safety of the missionaries spread along the river, nor that of any white settlers. There was no alternative for us but to abandon our journey to the Great Lake, and forego our visit to the volcanic marvels of that strange land. Then an important chief came from the King and urged us not to delay an hour in starting on our homeward journey, assuring us that heavy fighting had already taken place at Taranaki: that all the Waikato tribes were on the point of breaking out, and that, by this time, there was not a white man between us and the Auckland Koad.

We decided to move at once and in less than an hour, although night was coming on, we were under way, and with considerable difficulty reached the river by daylight where we embarked in canoes, passing through many villages where the natives stood scowling and angry on

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the banks. It was not entirely pleasant, for we quite expected a shot at any moment. Nevertheless, knowing that it would be fatal to betray alarm or mistrust, we had to sit quietly in the canoe as if it were an everyday occurrence to go boating under the muzzles of double-barrelled guns, loaded with slug and bits of broken bottle ; and an angry, irresponsible savage with his finger on the trigger. The whole country was swarming with natives, who danced and yelled on the river bank like fiends, and seeming to have reverted to a purely savage state in their excited condition, the European blankets of the men, and the petticoats and bodices of the women having been discarded for the native mat. It was as though we had stepped back to the days when Cook first saw the Maori, and was certainly a sight I shall never forget.

At last we arrived at a point on the river where our native guide became extremely nervous, evidently mistrusting the natives, and advised that we should anchor our canoe out in the stream when night came on, until he could ascertain the state of feeling amongst the inhabitants, adding that he had kinsmen somewhere in this neighbourhood, and might be able to find out how the land lay. So we dropped a big stone with a line attached, out in mid-stream, the river here being of considerable width and flowing smoothly though swiftly. It became completely dark : the fires on the banks opposite gradually dying out, whilst the distant voices ceased, and even the dogs left off yelping. Then the moon came out, but until it rose high, we lay under the shadow of a forest-clad hill and were apparently out of sight. But towards eleven o'clock our guide's sharp ears or keen eyesight detected some object in the water, and nudging me, as I lay nearest him, pointed out something dark swimming straight towards us. Soon we

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saw that it was a human head, but as there was but one we waited without concern, and in a minute or two a tangled mass of dark hair, streaming out on the water behind the swimmer, showed us it was a woman. She stopped a few yards off the boat and called out softly, using our guide's name. He instantly answered : and, turning to me, said, "She is my cousin." A brief colloquy in Maori passed between them, and then she came alongside and held on to the gunwale, where her gleaming shoulders looked like burnished silver in the moonlight, whilst her hair, floating away down stream in thick sea-weed-like masses, suggested a Rhine maiden. Round her neck was a shark's tooth necklace and a broad white bracelet above her elbow. Attached to her waist by a grass rope was a large fish, already cooked, but none the worse for its immersion in the water, and right glad were we to get it : for we had eaten next to nothing for eighteen hours and were ravenously hungry. Then it appeared that for two reasons the woman must pass the night in the canoe : first, that she could not land near her village for fear of getting into trouble for befriending the Pakeha ; and, secondly, that if she landed in the forest - and so got back to her wharé - she would be caught by the evil spirit, by whom it was haunted. So it was decided we must take her on board, but it was not an easy matter to do so, for the canoe was very crank, and the woman's weight on one side would have capsized us all in the river. We made her swim to the stern, and rousing up Heneage and Medley told them to shift into the bows whilst we helped her to clamber in. The stowage of this very substantial young woman was rather a matter of difficulty in our already cramped space ; she, however, coiled up under the rug we threw over her and seemed to sleep the sleep of an infant. She told her cousin that it was quite by chance that she had heard

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that he was on the river with the party of white men, who were known to be hurrying back to Auckland, and that she had come off to warn him of the great danger we were in. According to this man's account she was a very remarkable person, and knew that part of New Zealand better than any man living, as she frequently was sent all through the Waikato and Waipa Districts to deliver secret messages to the chiefs about their arrangements for the war. He said she was one of the fastest runners in New Zealand, of marvellous endurance, and could beat any horse on a long journey in that wild country, by crossing dangerous swamps and swimming rivers. She had been telling him of the things that were being done hundreds of miles away on the West Coast, at Taranaki, all of which turned out to be quite accurate, proving the amazing rapidity with which news spread amongst the Maoris, from end to end of the country. Nor were their organisation and the discipline with which reinforcements were pushed to the front, their perfect system of commissariat carried out by the women as bearers - less astonishing, leaving our poor bunglers nowhere.

But to return to ourselves. The rest of the night passed undisturbed, and with the first streak of dawn our Maori girl bestirred herself, and after taking a mouthful of cold tea, which remained in a bottle after our last night's supper, and with a cordial and friendly leave-taking she slipped noiselessly into the water, disappearing rapidly in the stream, to land a mile or two lower down in the forest. We were not long in following in the canoe, and, weighing our stone, drifted away before daylight had spread over the country, landing that after-noon at the spot where, on our way up, we had left our horses. Fortunately for us the aegis of the Maori King was still, more or less, over us, and the animals had

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neither been stolen nor impounded for transport : one more instance of the chivalrous instincts of the old-time Maori. For they knew that we had gone up the river in perfect good faith and not as spies, and that in so doing we had placed our lives in their keeping. I do not remember having heard of a single act of personal or private treachery on the part of the Maoris during the whole of the New Zealand War, and it was certainly owing to their noble qualities that we owed our return to safety.

As we had still some hours of light, and as the moon would make it easy to travel, our guide recommended us to push on, the Maoris giving us potatoes and honey to eat before starting, and filling our pockets with peaches, which grow wild in profusion in parts of New Zealand. Our road now lay through partly cultivated land, but intersected by broad belts of primaeval forest - many miles in extent - through which we had ridden on our way up, following tracks plainly discernible by daylight and equally so - to our guide - by night.

But in many places these paths skirted the forest to strike where the trees were thinner, or to avoid swamps, and now, having rather lagged behind the others, I found myself at a point where the forest road branched away from the open. Here I turned into the wood, the tracks of horses leading me to suppose my companions had gone that way. I pushed on as quickly as I could to overtake the party, but it was bad going, and though my horse was a very good one, I neither came up with them nor heard a sound ahead. Already the great tree-tops were fading into gloom, and before long their giant stems and the great tree-ferns were one indistinguishable mass : the foliage being so dense that no ray of moonlight could penetrate. So I left it to my horse ; feeling the road getting soft under his feet, and then, all of a sudden, he

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pulled up dead short, sinking to his knees in a thick bog. I tried to pull him back, but he only floundered and got deeper, nearly up to the girths, for I felt the mud under my feet. I thought that having ridden so fast I must have come up with the others, or at least be near them, so I cooeed with all the approved screech I could command. I might as well have whispered, for no sound broke the solemn stillness. But as my horse seemed settling down quietly in the mud, I got off his back, for I had heard many a dismal tale of the terrors of these awful New Zealand bogs, fathoms of black mire, in which men, horses, and cattle are frequently ingulfed. My horse, too, evidently understood his peril for he began to plunge about violently, and in doing so wrenched the bridle out of my hand. How it all happened I do not know. At one moment I felt I was on my knees in this strong tenacious slime, then I thought the horse was on the top of me. Again we floundered, the animal falling on his side. He seemed to be trying to work backwards and I did the same. At last we both most mercifully got back on to the firm ground, where I had still sufficient presence of mind left to grab hold of the reins and hold on to them. For the terrified animal would certainly have made off and left me alone in the forest. I found a large fallen tree near me, and on this I sat, my horse, who had made several attempts to get away, at last standing shivering by my side. After a short time I got off my log, felt about cautiously, and found firmer ground. I then buckled the reins of my horse into my belt, and propping my back against the tree soon began to doze, the horse motionless by my side. It was a weird night, the gloom and silence of the forest almost overpowering. But though I frequently awoke, by fits and starts, I slept a fair amount, and once, on opening my eyes, saw a broad silver streak some distance off amongst the trees and thought it might be the river.

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But I would not venture to approach it in the dark, for it would have been no advantage if I had, also I thought it might only be surface water lying over some dangerous quagmire, and in this I was right, as I saw by daylight. But at last, to my great relief, on opening my eyes for the hundredth time, I saw the underparts of the highest of the pines growing pink and gold, whilst the exquisitely melodious note of the Too-i - the Parson Bird - which heralds the dawn in that land, told me day was at hand. As soon as I could see at all, hungry, stiff, wet, and shivering like a dog in a damp sack, I got on my horse and looked about for the track over which I had come. But not a sign of footpath was to be seen, for I had evidently wandered completely away from it and had no more idea where I was than a blind man in a strange city. I cast about for some time, riding across the line I thought would strike the track, but I found nothing, so giving it up as a bad job, I determined to push through the forest in the direction of the general trend of the river, which I knew was about north-west ; and this, with my nautical instinct as to how the sun must bear, I had no difficulty in doing. I was fortunately riding one of the best horses in the Waikato District, and leaving him to pick his way, but keeping his head in the line I wished to follow, I rode on for hours and hours. At last, to my relief, I saw a clearing in the forest, large trees lying prostrate, and I knew I must be coming to some place where men had been. And true enough, in about twenty minutes, the clearing became open country, and then, to my still greater relief, I saw what I knew was a mission-house. I rode on gleefully, but not a sound reached my ears, not even the bark of a dog and my heart fell. It was deserted, the missionaries having all fled. However, I took comfort, for naturally there was a road which must lead somewhere, and I saw by its direction

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that it was the right one for me. So I rode on, taking the greatest care to keep to the right track, always heading north-west, for scores of paths led away in different directions. I rode all day and I thought I should never fetch anywhere, but, just as night began to settle in, I saw the gleam of the river, and, what interested me more, heard the barking of native dogs, and knew a village must be at hand. I was too tired and hungry to think twice of the risk, so I rode straight down into it, and made for the biggest wharé. I was at once surrounded by men, women, children, and dogs, but though their greeting was not cordial it was not hostile. I only knew a very few words of Maori, but they quickly understood two things, first that I belonged to a party of whites who had passed down river for I had struck it far below where they had left their horses and had embarked in a canoe and secondly that I was famishing with hunger. In a short time they produced some grilled fish and potatoes, the latter cooked to perfection, native fashion. Then one of them took possession of my horse - which was a well-known animal, and of course found its legitimate owner in the course of time - for I was now to go by canoe. It was the possession of this horse that identified me with the travellers gone ahead, and this averted any suspicion of my being a spy.

One can only speak of men as one finds them. I have always had the greatest respect for these enemies into whose hands I had fallen. I say enemies, because, at that very moment, British troops were being hurried up from Auckland for the great war. There was nothing to have prevented them killing me, or at least holding me prisoner until they heard their King's pleasure. I should have been sorry to find myself in the same predicament with a pious Boer community. Furthermore, there was not the least attempt to find out if I had any money, or, perhaps,

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papers about me. They did not even take my revolver, a prize of the utmost value to New Zealanders at any time, but more particularly at this moment, with fighting close before them. As night came on they offered me a bed of dried ferns in a hut, but when I crawled in through the low door I was nearly suffocated with the smoke of the green wood, burnt to keep off flies and mosquitoes. So I passed the night outside, covered over with a grass-mat, and slept as soundly as in my hammock. Very early next morning they put me into a canoe and started me off, paddled by an ancient, grey-haired man, with a face literally covered with tattoo, and by a young girl, apparently his granddaughter. I did not overtake my companions for three days - who had made anxious enquiries for me, but were told I was quite safe and was coming along in a canoe - old Charon leaving the navigation to the girl and myself, paddling and drifting all day, and bivouacking by night round a fire in the forest. I enjoyed the trip amazingly ; indeed, for me, it came to an end too soon, for we all got on extremely well together, and by the time I said goodbye to them we had become the greatest friends. At last we reached Ashwell's mission, situated near the junction of the Waipa and Waikato. It had not suffered the fate of all other missions in the district, of being burnt down. Furthermore, I believe that Mr. Ashwell himself remained there unmolested throughout the whole war, for he was popular with the natives, and thus safe amongst them when every other missionary, male and female, had had to abandon their posts.

* * * * *

When, finally, we reached Auckland we learnt what risk we had gone through ; for whilst we had been buried in the wilds of the Upper Waikato, an army of Maori fighting men had been collected, and lay between us and

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Auckland. Bishop Selwyn had been most anxious about our safety after receiving the King's message, and had ridden out as far as was still possible to endeavour to find us, whilst the Governor and our Skipper had greatly regretted allowing us to go. The only people unconcerned were our messmates, who took it for granted that we should turn up all right. When we met the Bishop he said-

" Well, you are wonders ! you seem to have had more adventures in these three weeks than I have had in all my numberless journeys on the Waikato."

Gorst had got back before us, and indeed, with the exception of Ashwell, the missionary, not a single white man was left in the country. It is interesting to remember that we had met the old and venerable Maori King, Potatau, a wonderful old man, holding a kind of mystic semi-religious sway over these great islands and all their warlike races. But like the Mikados of Japan he had an Alter Ego, who generally rose to power by personal qualities. At this time the office was held by Tamihana, who I have mentioned before, vulgarly called William Thomson by the white man. He was a great warrior and statesman. Amongst others we had met on that trip was Malutaere (Methusalah), son of Potatau, next King, and father of the present King.

* * * * *

In connection with the Waikato, a circumstance, which seems to border on the marvellous, took place. Knowing the people intimately I believe the facts are true. Just before my journey on the river a friend of mine, called McDonald, was also travelling in this district. He stopped one night in a native village by the river-side. The natives caught a fish for him - the Karwai, I think it is called - with the usual native hook, a glittering piece of mother-of-pearl. On cutting open the fish, a turquoise

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ring was found inside it. My friend gave the native some trifle for it, put it on his little finger, and there it remained for nearly a year, when, returning to Auckland, he offered it to his sister, wife of a Captain of Artillery. It was a ring she had lost about a year before the time of her brother having bought it from the natives. It had slipped off her finger when bathing in the Waikato River, at a place fifty miles away from where the fish had been caught. Her initials, which her brother had not observed, were engraved inside. And à propos of this ring, the digression may be pardoned me if I tell an equally curious story which happened in my own family. My eldest brother, Harry - A.D.C. to Sir James Outram during the Indian Mutiny - volunteered to lead the assault on Delhi. On the top of the breach a round-shot shattered his leg : he was carried down by an old Etonian friend - who he had not met since leaving school - and placed in his tent where his leg was amputated. In the night a great thunderstorm swept over the camp, during which his tent was blown over and the shock killed him. His native servant looted the tent and deserted to the mutineers, carrying off my brother's watch, rings, and money. More than fifteen years after that, my brother-in-law, Colonel Lloyd Evans, who was Deputy-Commissioner of Oude, was travelling in some remote part of Cashmere and was pestered by a native in a bazaar to buy a ring. He refused even to look at it, but the man was so insistent that at last he took it in his hand and was struck with astonishment at first seeing the Gambier crest, and then my brother's initials " C.H.F.R.G." inside. I have that ring to this day.

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