Chapter V: The Southern Raids (3)

With the departure of Taiaroa for the south, the people seemed to feel themselves deprived of the moving spirit of the defence, and, instead of redoubling their energies, they sullenly yielded to the pessimistic impulses of their mercurial nature, and abandoned themselves to brooding and despair.[117] Te Rauparaha, now finding his tactics less seriously opposed, made strenuous efforts to ensure the perfection of his plans; and, having done all that remained to be done, he resigned himself to wait with such patience as he could command for a favourable wind to carry the fire from his flaming bundles against the walls of the _pa_. And now a curious contest arose between the _tohungas_ of the opposing tribes; for, while the priests of Ngati-Toa were daily repeating incantations for the purpose of inducing a southerly wind, the priests of Ngai-Tahu were as piously imploring the gods for a wind from the north. The impartiality of the deities in these circumstances was remarkable, and distinctly embarrassing; but it is nevertheless a fact well remembered in connection with the fall of Kaiapoi, that while the conflicting prayers filled the air, an atmospheric calm set in, and for several weeks no breeze of any violence blew from either direction. But it was not to be supposed that this condition of aerial negation would continue for ever. At length, on a day some six months after the siege had been commenced, the dawn came in with a nor'-west wind blowing strongly across the plains. To the besiegers, this appeared to be all in favour of the besieged. But those within the _pa_ knew from long observation that the nor'-wester was an exceedingly treacherous wind; that sudden changes were apt to be experienced when the wind was in that quarter; and that, regarded in the light of experience, their situation was by no means as rosy as it looked. That their fate was hanging by the most slender thread was a fact perfectly apparent to the chiefs in command, who, after consultation, came to the conclusion that their only hope of safety lay in the bare chance that, if the menacing brushwood, which lay piled against the wall, was fired from the inside, the wind might hold out long enough to carry the flames away from the _pa_ until the source of danger was removed. This view was strongly held by Pureko, who was now entrusted with the defence of the threatened portion of the _pa_; and he decided to take upon himself the responsibility of proving the accuracy of his theory. Accordingly, he seized a firebrand, and thrust it into a pile of _manuka_, which instantly became a seething mass of flame.

When Te Rauparaha saw that his enemy was likely to circumvent him, he at once ordered his men to belt up, take their weapons with them, and carry the burning brushwood against the palisades, so that the fuel which had been collected at such infinite pains might not be consumed in vain. Without staying to question the wisdom of this order, a rush was immediately made by the younger warriors to obey the command; but they were met by a fusilade from the defenders who lined the walls, which worked havoc amongst their ranks. Had the contending parties been left to fight the issue out untrammelled by the intervention of external agencies, it is more than probable that Te Rauparaha would have been worsted in this attempt to fire the _pa_, and would have been compelled either to abandon the siege till the ensuing summer or to repeat during the impending winter the toilsome process of laying his fire train to the gates of the fortress. But at this juncture, as in so many others of his eventful life, his characteristic good fortune did not desert him. While his men were being mown down under the galling musketry of the enemy, the wind suddenly swung round to the south, and the whole aspect of the combat was instantly changed. The flames were carried high against the walls, licking the palisades with fiery tongues, while dense clouds of smoke rolled backwards, driving the garrison from the trenches and from every station of defence.

By this marvellous reversal of fortune Te Rauparaha was not slow to profit; and no sooner had the firing of the defenders slackened than his men crept up to the walls, and, as an essential precaution, filled up the loopholes through which the Ngai-Tahu marksmen had taken aim. This must have seriously hampered the defenders, had they been disposed to stand to their posts. But they were no longer animated so much by the desire to save the _pa_ as to save themselves. Panic had now taken the place of heroism, and despair had completely extinguished all idea of defence. The _sauve qui peut_ of Napoleon became equally the policy of Ngai-Tahu, and from this point there was nothing heroic in the defence of Kaiapoi. In a marvellously short space of time, the flames had completely enveloped the outer works; and, while they were eating their way through the wooden walls, many of the besiegers were indulging in the wild joy of the war dance, which, according to one native chronicler, was so vigorously conducted that "the noise they made was like thunder, and the earth trembled." As soon as a breach had been made, the attacking force rushed between the burning palisades, and the massacre--for it can be described by no other word--commenced.

"Through the fire, and through the smoke,
Swiftly Ngati-Toa broke
With a scream and a yell;
And the glare and the flare
Of the fire-tongues in the air
Flung a demoniac light
On the horrors of the fight:
And the children in affright,
And the women in despair,
Shrieked for mercy, but in vain.
And the blazing timbers threw
A ghastly lurid hue
On the wounded and the slain.
And, as the fierce light gleamed
On the warriors, they seemed
Like fiends unloosed from hell.
A struggle, fierce and short,
And the keepers of the fort
Were slaughtered for the feast:
And the red sun in the west
Went down as Kaiapoi fell."

No semblance of resistance was offered except by a desperate few, and those who still lingered were either struck down by their infuriated pursuers, or were captured and bound, to be spared or killed, as future circumstances might dictate. When the stampede commenced, the Huirapa gate was made the first avenue of escape, as it led directly into the surrounding swamp. But Te Rauparaha had provided against this by posting a strong body of men on the opposite bank; and, as fast as the fugitives landed, they fell into a snare as fatal as that from which they had just escaped. Numbers of the more active, impatient at the delay caused by the total inadequacy of this single outlet, scaled the walls, and dropped down into the swamp below, swimming or wading in the direction of the plains to the westward. Those who selected this mode of retreat were almost all successful in making good their escape, for they were able to secure the friendly shelter of those dense clusters of vegetation[118] which freely studded the face of the swamp; while the black smoke-clouds, which were carried on the wind, hung low upon the water, and effectually screened them from the searching eyes of their pursuers.

It is estimated that some two hundred of the fleeing garrison reached safety by concealing themselves in the slimy waters and rank vegetation of the Tairutu lagoon, until the vigilance of the northerners had relaxed sufficiently to enable them to creep out and slip away to the southward, or to Banks's Peninsula, where they could rely upon finding shelter in some of the tribal _pas_.[119] But by far the greater part of the inhabitants, who could not have numbered less than a thousand souls, met death in various ways. Many, especially the women and children, who essayed to cross the swamps, were either drowned in the attempt or shot down as they swam. Others, who, owing to age and infirmity, were slow in eluding the attack, were never able to leave the _pa_ at all. The aged and the very young were killed without ceremony; but the more comely were for the most part overcome and bound, destined either for the feast or for a life of slavery, adorning the household of a chief or working as menials in the fields. Pureko, who had put the brand to the burning, was one of the first to fall, being disembowelled by a gun-shot; and within a few moments there was also witnessed the pathetic death of the patriarchal Te Auta,[120] the venerated priest of the tribe, who was slain as he knelt at the shrine of his patron deity, vainly imploring the assistance of Kahukura[121] in this their hour of greatest need. The air was rent by the shrieks of the dying, the shouts of the victors, and the crash of falling timbers, mingled in one hideous din, which typified all that is blackest and most brutal in human passion.[122] When an end was made of this gruesome work, and the smoking walls were ruined beyond repair, the captives were removed to Te Rauparaha's camp, situated on the spot now known as Massacre Hill; and there the full rites of the cannibal feast were celebrated at an awful cost of human life,[123] every detail being observed which, in the light of national custom, would ensure the eternal humiliation of the defeated tribe.

Kaiapoi having now fallen, and the dispersal of its people being complete, Te Rauparaha might have reasonably retired from the scene, satisfied with the laurels which his conquest had brought him. But it would seem that lust of victory and greed of revenge were in him insatiable. He knew that there were still some well-populated _pas_ on Banks's Peninsula, and he was determined not to return to Kapiti until he had reduced them also. The canoes which had been damaged by Taiaroa were, therefore, repaired with all possible speed, and, after provision had been made for the prisoners who were to be taken to Kapiti, the remaining canoes were directed to proceed to Banks's Peninsula. A small _pa_ on Ri-papa Island, in Lyttelton Harbour, was first attacked and reduced, and then the canoes were steered for Akaroa, from which point the war party was to move to the assault of Onawe. This _pa_ had been but recently constructed, and owed its existence to the widespread dread which the name of Te Rauparaha had now inspired. When it was known on the peninsula that he had laid siege to Kaiapoi, a feeling of insecurity crept over the natives there, who were seized with a grave presentiment that their turn might come soon. And how inadequate were their small and isolated _pas_ to withstand the shock of assault or the stress of siege! They accordingly hastened to concentrate their forces in one central _pa_, and the spirit-haunted hill of Onawe[124] was the point selected for a united stand. The _pa_, which was built upon the pear-shaped promontory which juts out into the Akaroa Harbour, dividing its upper portion into two bays, was both extensive and strong, and into its construction several new features were imported, to meet the altered conditions of warfare caused by the introduction of fire-arms.

With the fall of Kaiapoi, the alarms and panics to which the people of the peninsula had been subjected through Te Rauparaha's foraging parties were brought to an end, and they then knew that their worst fears were about to be realised. On the day after the sack of the _pa_, a few of the fugitives had arrived at Onawe with the doleful intelligence that the fortress had fallen, and that, so far as they could gather, the northern canoes were at that very moment being made sea-worthy, for the purpose of conveying the victors to Akaroa. Hurried messengers were then sent to all the outlying _pas_, calling the people in to Onawe, and preparations were at once made to resist the impending attack. Tangatahara, who, it will be remembered, had been the immediate cause of Te Pehi's death, was placed in chief command, with Puka and Potahi as his subordinate chiefs. The garrison, which consisted of about four hundred warriors, was reasonably well equipped for the struggle, for they had been moderately successful in securing fire-arms from the whalers, and those who did not carry muskets were at least able to flourish steel hatchets. In these circumstances, Te Rauparaha found them a much more formidable foe than had been the Muaupoko of Horowhenua, or the Ngati-Apa of Rangitikei. There he had all the advantage of arms; here he was being opposed on almost even terms; but there still remained in his favour a balance of spirit, courage, and tenacity of purpose. In the matter of provisions the _pa_ was well provided against a protracted siege, while one of the features of the new fortification was a covered way, which led to a never-failing spring on the southern side of the promontory. Scarcely were the people gathered within the _pa_, and all the preparations for its defence completed, than the sentinels posted on the lookout descried, in the early morning, the northern fleet sweeping up the harbour. The alarm was at once given, and every man sprang to his post to await the oncoming. The canoes paddled to the shore below the _pa_, and there Te Rauparaha committed an error in tactics, the like of which can seldom be laid to his charge. He had hoped that, by his early arrival, he would have been able to take the garrison by surprise and effect an easy victory; but in this the vigilance of the defenders had frustrated him, and he therefore decided to delay the attack. In the meantime, he permitted his men to land, but unwisely allowed them to become separated. The Ngati-Toa and Ngati-Raukawa went to what is now known as Barry's Bay, and Ngati-Awa occupied the beach at the head of the harbour. In these positions respectively the sections of the invaders immediately began to establish their camps, and numerous fires, eloquent of the morning meal, were soon smoking on the shore.

Tangatahara saw with some satisfaction the disposition of the enemy, and shrewdly determined to profit by the advantage which their want of cohesion gave him. He resolved upon the manoeuvre of first attacking Ngati-Awa, in the hope that he might defeat them before Te Rauparaha could come to their assistance, and then he would be able to turn upon the unsupported Ngati-Toa and drive them back to the sea. But either Tangatahara was much mistaken in his calculations or his directions were only indifferently executed, for his manoeuvre failed ignominiously. As his men sallied out of the _pa_, their movements were noticed by the sentries of Te Rauparaha, who lost no time in communicating the fact to their leader. Instantly, the Ngati-Toa camp was in a state of intense excitement; every warrior dropped his immediate employment and rushed to secure his belt and arms. When equipped, they went off in hot haste, floundering through slime and soft mud, to reinforce the threatened Ngati-Awa. Tangatahara, seeing that his movement was observed and understood, hesitated and was lost. A halt was called, and, while his men stood in indecision upon the hill-side, the advancing Ngati-Toa opened fire upon them with fatal effect. Tahatiti was the first to fall, and several were wounded as the result of the opening volley. The Ngai-Tahu then began to fall back, firing the while; but their musketry failed to check the onrush of Te Rauparaha's veterans, who were now thoroughly seasoned to the rattle of bullets and the smell of powder. The retreat to the _pa_ was safely conducted; but, for some reason, the defenders did not immediately pass through the gates and shut them against the invaders. They continued to linger outside, possibly to watch with greater ease the approach of the enemy. As they were thus engaged, a number of the captives taken by Te Rauparaha at Kaiapoi suddenly came over the brow of the hill and entered into conversation with those of their own kin who were still outside the gates. During this friendly parley, Te Rauparaha came boldly up to the walls with his own followers and demanded the surrender of the _pa_. Those within the walls were now placed in the dilemma that they could not fire upon the enemy without imperilling the lives of their own friends; and it was equally unsafe to open the gates to admit them, as the besiegers might rush in with an impetuosity that could not be resisted. In these circumstances the parley was continued, Te Rauparaha pointing to the presence of so many Kaiapoi notables as a living evidence of his clemency, while the captive Ngai-Tahu joined with him in advising the policy of surrender, chiefly, no doubt, through a jealous apprehension that the inhabitants of Onawe might escape the misfortune and disgrace which had befallen themselves.

Thus the battle, which had opened with visions of courage, degenerated into a war of words, of which the best that can be said is that the insincerity of the invaders was only equalled by the indecision of the defenders. Only one man in the _pa_ appeared to have a clear idea of what his duty was. This was Puaka, who, recognising Te Rauparaha amongst the crowd, pushed his gun through a loophole, took aim, and fired almost point-blank at the chief, whose miraculous escape was due to the fact that one of the Kaiapoi captives, who was standing close to Puaka, pushed the muzzle of the musket aside just in time to deflect the shot. As might be supposed, the incident served only to intensify the confusion and disorder. Some of the invaders seized a moment's want of vigilance on the part of the sentries at the gate to force an entrance into the _pa_, where they commenced killing every one around them. All the brave vows which had brought the Onawe _pa_ into existence were then forgotten, and the high hopes which its fancied strength had inspired were shattered in this moment of supreme trial, which revealed in all its nakedness the inherent weakness of the Ngai-Tahu character. Panic seized the people, and for some time the _pa_ was the scene of the wildest confusion. Here and there a brave show of resistance was offered; but for the most part the defenders were too dazed at the swiftness of the Ngati-Toa rush even to stand to their arms, which, in their distraction, numbers of them even threw away. Of those outside the _pa_, not a few dashed for the bush as soon as the fighting commenced, and made good their escape. But those within the walls were caught like rats in a trap; and, during the conflict, the shrieks and imprecations of the miserable fugitives were mingled with the hoarse shouts of the victors, as they rushed bleeding and half naked from one place of fancied security to another. The conquest of Onawe, though swift, was none the less sanguinary. After the last vestige of resistance had been stamped out, the prisoners were collected and taken down to a flax-covered flat. There the old and the young, the weak and the strong, were picked out from their trembling ranks; and, at the command of the chief, those who from excessive youth or extreme age were regarded as valueless were at once sacrificed to the _manes_ of the dead, while the more robust were preserved as trophies of the victory.

For a few days following the fall of Onawe, the surrounding hills and forests were scoured by the restless victors, in search of such unhappy fugitives as might be found lurking in the secret places of the bush. Few, however, were captured, and in some instances successful retaliation reversed the fortune of the chase, and the pursuers became the pursued. When the prospect of further captures was exhausted, the northern warriors asked for and obtained leave to return to their homes, and the canoes, with the exception of that of Te Hiko, immediately put to sea, a rendezvous being appointed for them at Cloudy Bay. Te Hiko was detained by the fact that his canoe stood in need of repair, and, during the operation, an incident occurred which justified the high estimate of his character which was subsequently formed by many of the earliest colonists.[125] He was the son of Te Pehi, whose death two years before was the immediate and avowed cause of this southern raid. If, then, the fires of hate and fury against Ngai-Tahu had burned more fiercely within him than in others of his tribe, there might have been some justification for it. But Te Hiko proved to be more chivalrous than many who had received less provocation. Amongst the prisoners who had fallen into his hands at the taking of Onawe was Tangatahara, the commander of the fortress, who, it will be remembered, had been the most active agent in causing the death of Te Hiko's father. What ultimate fate was intended for Tangatahara is uncertain, but he was fortunate enough to be spared an immediate death. He was, however, closely guarded; and, as he was sitting on the beach surrounded by Ngati-Raukawa warriors, two of the women who had accompanied Te Rauparaha's forces espied him, and immediately put in a claim to Te Hiko for his death, in compensation for the injury which the captive chief had caused them. The claim, though clamorously made, was firmly resisted by Te Hiko who endeavoured first to persuade and then to bribe them, by a gift of rich food, into a more reasonable frame of mind. Neither his blandishments nor his bribes were successful in appeasing their desire for the captive's life; and it was not until Te Hiko gave them plainly to understand that he was determined not to give his prisoner over as a sacrifice to them, and that he regarded his authority as outraged by their persistency, that they sullenly consented to compromise their claim. What they now asked was the right to debase the chief by using his head as a relish for their _kauru_, a vegetable substance which a Maori chewed, much as an American chews gum or tobacco. To this modified proposal Te Hiko reluctantly consented, and the women, approaching the captive, struck his head twice with their _kauru_, which they proceeded to masticate with enhanced enjoyment because of the flavour which it was thought to derive from his degradation.

Though he had thus far humoured the women, the want of consideration shown by them for his position as a chief so incensed Te Hiko that he there and then determined to release his prisoner, and so prevent his authority in regard to him being flouted by irresponsible personages. That night he roused Tangatahara from his sleep, and, taking him to the edge of the bush, bade him escape, a command which he was not slow to obey, nor found it difficult to fulfil.[126]

[76] To the ancient Maori greenstone was invaluable as a material out of which to manufacture weapons and ornaments; but after the introduction of fire-arms the _mere_ was superseded by the musket, and it is doubtful if, when the trinkets of the European were available, the native would take the trouble to laboriously work out an ornament from so hard a substance.

[77] A shark's tooth fixed upon a stick and used as a knife.

[78] This could scarcely have been otherwise, for Rerewaka's insolent speech amounted to a _kanga_, or curse, which, according to the Maori code, could only be atoned for by the shedding of blood.

[79] The canoe used by Te Rauparaha on many of these southern raids was called Ahu-a-Turanga, and for this reason it is supposed that it came from the Manawatu, that being the name of an ancient track over the Ruahine Ranges near the Manawatu gorge. It is said that this canoe is now lying rotting at Porirua Harbour. Another famous canoe of this period was called Te-Ra-makiri, a vessel captured from the Ngati-Kahu-ngunu at Castle Point by Ngati-Tama, and presented by them to Te Rauparaha. This canoe was held to be exceedingly sacred, and now lies at Mana Island.

[80] "Having reached at sunset to within a mile of the spot where the _Pelorus_ anchored, we again encamped on a shingly beach in a bay on the east side of the Sound. At this spot there were some ten or fifteen acres of level ground, on which we were shown the remains of a large _pa_, once the headquarters of the tribe conquered and almost exterminated by Te Rauparaha" (_Wakefield_).

[81] It was to this policy of settlement, following upon conquest, that Marlborough owes the presence of the little cluster of northern natives who are settled on the banks of the Wairau River--the most southern outpost that now remains to mark the aggression of Te Rauparaha.

[82] Hori Kingi Te Anaua, a chief well-known in after years as the firm friend of the Whanganui settlers, escaped from this defeat, as one quaint native account puts it, "by dint of his power to run."

[83] Some difficulty has been experienced in closely tracing the movements of Te Pehi. He left England on board H.M.S. _Thames_ in October, 1825, and the _Thames_ reached Sydney on April 11, 1826. Whether she came on to New Zealand bringing the chief with her, I have not ascertained. The probabilities are that she did, for the late Judge Mackay, who is an excellent authority, says Te Pehi returned direct to New Zealand, but afterwards made the voyage back to Sydney to procure arms, from which place he returned in 1829, at the juncture referred to in the text.

[84] Here we meet with one of the many discrepancies in the published histories of the time. The Rev. Canon Stack makes it appear in his _Kaiapohia_ that Rerewaka was killed during the battle, but Mr. Travers (_Life and Times of Te Rauparaha_) states that he was taken prisoner; and this version is sustained by Tamihana te Rauparaha in his published account of his father's life, wherein he says Rerewaka was taken to Kapiti to be "tamed."

[85] Canon Stack would seem to imply that Kaikoura and Omihi were one and the same place; but from a petition presented to the House of Representatives in 1869 by the Ngai-Tahu tribe, it seems clear that they were separate places, and that their destruction took place at different times. Omihi is about 15 miles south of Kaikoura, near the Conway River, but the battle took place on the hills near the valley which leads down to the Waipara.

[86] Some accounts make it appear that Kekerengu was killed by a wandering band of Ngai-Tahu after he landed on the Middle Island, and that, although he had greatly offended Te Rangihaeata by his impropriety, it was really to avenge his death and not to punish him that this raid was made upon Kaikoura and Omihi. But these are variations in tradition that we can scarcely hope to reconcile at this date.

[87] Kaiapoi is a popular abbreviation of the old name--Kaiapohia, which signifies "food gathered up in handfuls" or "a food depôt," but Kaiapohia was seldom used except in formal speeches or in poetical compositions. The name originated in the incident related in the text, and the place became in reality a food depôt, because, owing to its peculiar situation, large quantities of food, particularly kumaras, were raised every year, not only for local consumption, but for the purposes of exchange with other branches of the tribe which possessed abundance of particular kinds of provisions which could not be procured at Kaiapoi.

[88] Tamihana te Rauparaha would lead us to suppose that his father was averse to this course, and was again overpersuaded by Te Pehi's impetuosity. He makes him say to Te Pehi, "Be cautious in going into the _pa_, lest you be killed. I have had an evil omen: mine was an evil dream last night," But what, says Tamihana, was the good of such advice to a man whose spirit had gone to death?

[89] At first only the heads of chiefs were sold, as they were the most perfectly tattooed, but when chiefs' heads became scarce, the native mind conceived the idea of tattooing the heads of the slaves and selling them--the slave being killed as soon as his head was ready for the market. Sometimes the slave was audacious enough to run away just as he was attaining a commercial value, and the indignation of one merchant who had just sustained such a loss is humorously described in Manning's _Old New Zealand_.

[90] In an account of this incident given by a Captain Briggs to the newspaper _Tasmanian_, in 1831, he states that a European named Smith, who had been left at Kaiapoi by a Captain Wiseman, for the purpose of trade, attempted to save Te Pehi's life, and was himself killed for his interference. If this was so, the Ngai-Tahu accounts are discreetly silent on the point; but Briggs infers that Te Rauparaha and Te Hiko made it one of the arguments by which they sought to convince him that he ought to assist them to capture Tamaiharanui, and so revenge the death of his countryman.

[91] The names of the chiefs who were killed on this fatal day were Te Pehi, Te Pokaitara, Te Rangikatuta, Te Ruatahi, Te Hua-piko, Te Kohi, Te Aratangata, and Te Rohua. Tamihana te Rauparaha states that in all some twenty of his father's people were killed, but that a number were successful in escaping by clambering over the palisades.

[92] The Rev. Canon Stack considers that this event occurred either late in 1828 or early in 1829.

[93] It is doubtful whether Tamaiharanui took any part in the killing of Te Pehi and his comrades, but that would not relieve him of his liability to be killed in return, as the whole tribe was responsible for the acts of every member of it.

[94] There was little in Tamaiharanui's personal appearance to mark his aristocratic lineage. His figure was short and thick-set, his complexion dark, and his features rather forbidding. Unlike most Maori chiefs of exalted rank, he was cowardly, cruel, and capricious--an object of dread to friends and foes alike, and however much his people may have mourned the manner of his death, they could not fail to experience a sense of relief when he was gone (_Stack_).

[95] The _Elizabeth_ arrived in Sydney in July, 1830, and in the following month left for New Zealand. A contemporary Australian newspaper described her cargo as consisting of four cases and eighteen muskets, two kegs of flints and bullets, two bales of slops, two kegs of gunpowder, one bundle of hardware, and five baskets of tobacco and stores.

[96] A more or less exaggerated account of this raid appeared in the newspaper _Tasmanian_ on January 28, 1831, and in a subsequent issue, Captain Briggs, in passing some comments upon it, said the penalty which Captain Stewart had to pay for disregarding his advice was that "the natives wanted to do as they pleased with him and his ship." He further said that he endeavoured to persuade Stewart not to deliver Tamaiharanui over to Te Rauparaha after their return to Kapiti, but that worthy declined to carry the chief to Sydney, on the ground that "The Marinewie," as he called him, "had been too long on board already."

[97] Properly spelt Akau-roa--"the long coast line"; doubtless referring to the deep inlet which forms the harbour of Akaroa.

[98] According to a Parliamentary Paper published in 1831, the _Elizabeth_ carried eight guns, two swivels, and a full supply of small arms. This fact, it is said, deluded some of the natives into the belief that the ship was a British man-o'-war.

[99] Signifying "tear-drops."

[100] Some accounts say that this occurred before the vessel left the harbour.

[101] It is said that the action of Tamaiharanui also so roused the righteous anger of Captain Stewart that he deemed it his duty to have the chief triced up to the mast and flogged. This met with the most marked disapproval from Te Rauparaha, who maintained that as his prisoner was a chief he should not be punished like a slave.

[102] The _Australian_ newspaper records the arrival of the _Elizabeth_, Captain Stewart, in Sydney, on the above date, with a cargo of thirty tons of flax, and carrying Mr. J. B. Montefiore and Mr. A. Kemiss as passengers.

[103] When the _Elizabeth_ returned to Kapiti, her company was increased by a Mr. Montefiore, who was then cruising round New Zealand in his own vessel, in search of commercial speculations. Hearing of what had occurred at Akaroa, he became apprehensive of his own safety, and fearing that all the white people in the country would be killed, he joined the _Elizabeth_ in the hope of being carried away from New Zealand at the earliest possible moment. In giving evidence before a Select Committee of the House of Lords, in 1838, he related what he knew of the capture and death of Tamaiharanui. He claimed credit for having protested to Captain Stewart against the chief being held in irons, and succeeded in getting the fetters struck off, as the prisoner's legs had commenced to mortify. He also stated that his appeal to Captain Stewart to take the chief to Sydney, and not to hand him over to his enemies, was futile. According to Mr. Montefiore, who said he went ashore and "saw the whole process of his intended sacrifice," Tamaiharanui was killed almost immediately after being given up, but other accounts supplied by the natives place it some weeks later. The wife of Tamaiharanui, unable to bear the sight of her husband's agony, ran away from the scene of the tragedy, but was recaptured and subsequently killed. Tamaiharanui's sister became the wife of one of her captors, and lived at Wellington. It is generally admitted that Te Rauparaha did not witness, or take any part in, Tamaiharanui's death. Heaven knows, he had done enough.

[104] If this is an accurate statement of what occurred--and there is every reason to believe that it is--the treatment of Tamaiharanui presents an interesting parallel to the manner in which the Aztec Indians of Mexico regaled their prisoners, destined to be sacrificed at the annual feast to their god Tezcatlipoca.

[105] Rev. Canon Stack.

[106] The Sydney _Gazette_, in referring to the case, remarked that its peculiarity lay in the fact that it involved "the question of the liability of British subjects for offences committed against the natives of New Zealand." The point was never tested, but it is doubtful whether the Imperial Statute constituting the Supreme Court of the Colony of New South Wales (9 Geo. IV., cap. 83) gave express power to deal with such offences as that of Stewart. An amendment of the law in the following year (June 7, 1832) made the position more explicit.

[107] Captain Sturt afterwards did valuable work as an explorer in Australia, but received no suitable recognition from the Imperial Government. Sir George Grey vainly endeavoured to procure for him the honour of knighthood.

[108] There is not much doubt that, had the case gone to trial, counsel for the defence would have endeavoured to prove that Stewart was compelled by the natives to do what he did; for the _Australian_, a paper controlled by Dr. Wardell, argued that it "could not divine the justice of denouncing Stewart as amenable to laws which, however strict and necessary under certain circumstances, were not applicable to savage broils and unintentional acts of homicide, to which he must have been an unwilling party, and over which he could not possibly exercise the slightest control."

[109] It will be charitable, and perhaps just, to suppose that this feeling arose more from personal antipathy to the Governor than from any inherent sympathy with crime. Governor Darling had succeeded in making himself exceedingly unpopular with a large section of the Sydney community, which resulted in his recall in 1831.

[110] The expedition probably started about the end of January or beginning of February.

[111] Now Lyttelton Harbour.

[112] His _pa_ was in the vicinity of what is now the city of Dunedin.

[113] The Rev. Canon Stack relates how one of the Ngai-Tahu men, Te Ata-o-tu, was carrying his infant son on his back during this march. When they approached the _pa_, some of his companions, seeing how closely it was invested, whispered to him to strangle the child, lest it might cry at a critical moment and betray them. The father, however, could not find it in his heart to take this extreme step, but he wrapped the boy tightly in a thick mat, and, strapping him across his broad shoulders, carried him safely through the dangers of that terrible night. The child, however, was only spared to be drowned in the waters of the swamp as his mother vainly endeavoured to escape a few months later, when the _pa_ fell.

[114] A storehouse erected upon a high central pole, to protect the food from the depredations of rats.

[115] So far as is known, this was the first occasion on which the principle of the sap was applied in Maori warfare.

[116] An interesting parallel to these proceedings is to be found in Gibbon's description of the siege of Constantinople: "To fill the ditch was the toil of the besiegers; to clear away the rubbish was the safety of the besieged; and, after a long and bloody conflict, the web which had been woven in the day was still unravelled in the night."

[117] It is a popular belief in some quarters that the reason why the defenders so lost heart was that they were oppressed by the guilty knowledge that they had acted treacherously in killing Te Pehi and his companions.

[118] Popularly known as "Maori-heads" or "Nigger-heads." Flax and _raupo_ also grew freely in the swamps.

[119] This was rendered more difficult owing to the fact that for many days Te Rauparaha's followers were scouring the country, far and wide, in search of fugitives. The Rev. Canon Stack mentions the pathetic instance of two young children who were in hiding with their father. He left them to go in search of food, promising to return; but he never did so, having in all probability been captured and killed. The children, who afterwards lived to be well-known Canterbury residents, sustained themselves by eating _raupo_ roots for several months, until they were found by an eeling party in the bed of the Selwyn River.

[120] Te Auta is described as a man of grave and venerable appearance, who was a strict disciplinarian in all matters pertaining to the religious ceremonies of the _pa_, his authority in these respects being considerably enhanced by his long white hair and flowing beard. He was one of the last of the Ngai-Tahu _tohungas_, who were deeply versed in all the peculiar rites of Maori heathendom.

[121] Kahukura was the patron divinity of the Ngai-Tahu tribe. His cultus was introduced by the crew of the Takitimu canoe, who were the ancestors of the Kaiapohians (_Stack_).

[122] Amongst the prisoners taken was a boy named Pura, who excited the interest of Te Rauparaha. The chief took him under his personal protection, and on the night that Kaiapoi fell, he led him into his own _whare_. In order to prevent any possibility of escape, Rauparaha tied a rope round the boy's body and attached the other end to his own wrist. During the early hours of the night the chief was exceedingly restless, but after he fell asleep Pura quietly disengaged himself from the rope, and tied the end of it to a peg which he found driven into the floor of the _whare_. He then crept stealthily to the door, but in passing out he had the misfortune to overturn a pile of _manuka_ which was piled up outside. Luckily, the brushwood fell on top of him, completely covering him, but the noise aroused Te Rauparaha, who, as soon as he perceived that his captive had flown, raised the alarm, and in an incredibly short time the whole camp was in a state of uproar and panic. The warriors, suddenly aroused from their sleep, were in a condition of extreme nervous tension after the excitement and exertion of the day. Some imagined that the prisoners had risen in revolt, while others believed that the fugitives had returned in force to attack the camp, and it was some time before order could be restored and the true position explained. Meanwhile, Pura lay panting with fear and trembling lest he should be found, for recapture meant certain death. His hiding, however, was not discovered, and when the camp had once more settled down to sleep, he quietly pushed the brushwood aside, and, threading his way out into the swamp, made good his escape to the south, where he afterwards joined the main body of the fugitives. Pura subsequently became a well-known resident of Lyttelton, under the name of Pitama.

[123] "Some conception may be formed of the numbers slain and eaten when I mention that some time after the settlement of Canterbury the Rev. Mr. Raven, incumbent of Woodend, near the site of the _pa_ in question, collected many cartloads of their bones, and buried them in a mound on the side of the main road from the present town of Kaiapoi to the north. Ghastly relics of these feasts still strew the ground, from which I myself have gathered many" (_Travers_).

[124] "The summit of Onawe was called Te-pa-nui-o-Hau. There, amongst the huge boulders and rocks that crown the hill and cover its steep sloping sides, dwelt the Spirit of the Wind, and tradition tells how jealously it guarded its sacred haunts from careless intrusion" (_Tales of Banks's Peninsula_).

[125] "Te Hiko struck us forcibly by his commanding stature, by his noble, intelligent physiognomy, and by his truly chieftain-like demeanour. His descent by both parents pointed him out as a great leader in Cook Strait, should he inherit his father's great qualities. He was sparing of his words and mild in speech. He had carefully treasured up his father's instructions and the relics of his voyage to England.... He was said to pay his slaves for their work, and to treat them with unusual kindness, and the white men spoke of him as mild and inoffensive in his intercourse with them" (_Wakefield_).

[126] "Before the northern fleet got clear of Banks's Peninsula, a number of the prisoners escaped, the chief person amongst them being Te Hori, known in after years as the highly respected native Magistrate of Kaiapoi, the only man of acknowledged learning left amongst the Ngai-Tahu after Te Rauparaha's last raid" (_Stack_).