Chapter XXI: Preface (3)

So the firing of big guns and muskets went on day after day, but no opening was made in the face of the pa; but the chief of the soldiers[38] did not care much for this, for he wanted every day to send his men to rush up to the pa, to pull down the fence with their hands, or pull it down with ropes, and so get in. But Walker and the other chiefs always prevented this, as they knew that all the soldiers would be killed before they could get in in this way. Every one of the Maori were of this opinion, and also some of our old pakeha friends who were with us, and who knew the appearance of the Maori in war. Nevertheless, the chief of the soldiers wished every day to send his men to rush up to the pa; and so, at last, we heard so much of this that we began to be very melancholy, and Walker told me that he felt sick in the stomach when the chief of the soldiers spoke to him about it, it seemed so great a waste of men's lives. We all became, as I have said, very melancholy, for we all began to see that it would be done at last, and we grieved, therefore, for our friends the soldiers, who we knew would be all killed. But what vexed us most was, that so fine a war party as ours should be beaten by such a small number of people as were in the pa, only because the chief of the soldiers was a foolish, inexperienced person.[39]

[Footnote 38: Colonel Despard.]

[Footnote 39: The pa at Ohaeawae was attacked against the advice of the friendly native chiefs, who well knew its strength, and the certain repulse to be expected. They called Colonel Despard anything but a soldier, and the term "foolish and inexperienced" is the _mildest_ they applied to him.]

At last the chief of the soldiers thought of sending for a very large gun from a ship of war at the Bay of Islands, which would be large enough to break down the fence. If he had done this at first an opening would soon have been made, and the fort taken without many men being killed; but as it was, this gun when it came was of no use, for the chief of the soldiers did not wait till it had broken down the fence, but attempted to take the pa without this having been done.

This gun was placed at the foot of the hill where Walker had his camp, and it was not fired many times before it became apparent that should it keep on firing till next evening, a large opening would be made in the fence; so we began to think that the chief of the soldiers would have patience, and wait till this should be done.

Now on this same day, when this big gun began to fire, thirty men came out of the pa unperceived, and coming through a wood in the rear of Walker's camp, at a time when Walker and most of his men were absent, they rushed in and plundered it, killing one soldier who was there, and also one Maori, and wounded also a pakeha, the son of a missionary. They pulled down Walker's flag and took it away, and having fired a volley at the camp of the soldiers, ran off to their pa, leaving one man killed, who was killed by Tara Patiki, and not by the soldiers, as I have heard say. I am sure of this, for I saw Tara Patiki shoot him. They were close upon us before we saw them, and we had great difficulty to escape, but we both jumped into the fern, and ran down the hill as hard as we could. I fired my gun right into the middle of them, but as only one man was killed, I suppose my shot missed.

When the soldiers saw that Walker's pa was taken, they came out of their camp, and charged up the hill; but when they came to the top, they found that the enemy were gone, and had taken away everything valuable they could find; they found the soldier who had been killed. He had been sent there by the chief of the soldiers to take care of one of the little big guns which had been removed up to that place, so he was killed there; but I have heard that the chief of the soldiers when he wrote his letter to Auckland, to tell the Governor about this matter, said that this soldier was killed in charging up the hill; but this is not true, for I and many others got to the top of the hill before the soldiers, and when we got there the enemy were gone, and the dead soldier was lying there where he had been killed, close to the small big gun.

This affair, however, made the chief of the soldiers quite mad, so that same evening he ordered all his men to rush upon the pa and pull it down with ropes, or climb over it with ladders, or any way they could; he also sent to Walker to tell him what he was about to do. Walker spoke against it, as he had done before, and advised to wait one day more, till the big gun had made an opening for the soldiers to rush through quickly; otherwise, he said they would be all killed, and not get in at all. But the chief of the soldiers would not wait. So when Walker saw the attack would be made he offered to attack also at another face of the pa, and also twenty young men, cousins of Hauraki, the young chief of Te Hikutu, who was killed at Waikare, came and asked leave to go with the soldiers; but the chief of the soldiers would not let them go; neither would he consent to Walker's making an attack, lest meeting the soldiers in the pa, his men might be mistaken for the enemy.

When we saw that the attack was determined upon, and just going to take place, we were all in a great state of agitation, and knew not what to think. Most said all the soldiers would be killed; but then we thought, on the other hand, that perhaps these European warriors could do things above the understanding of us Maori, and so perhaps they might take the pa. But all thought the chief of the soldiers very wrong to attempt the thing before an opening had been made for the soldiers to enter by. Also, Toby (Lieutenant Philpots), who was chief of the sailors, and a very brave gentleman, had walked close up to the fence of the pa, and along it, and, after having examined it, he returned, and told the chief of the soldiers that the place could not be taken by storm, unless it was first breached. When Lieutenant Philpots went up to the pa, the people were firing at every one who showed himself, and at first they fired at him; but he walked straight on, not caring about the shots which were fired at him. So, when the people in the pa saw that it was Philpots who had done this, they ceased firing at him, and told him to go back, as they did not wish to hurt him. So having examined the fence closely, he returned, but the soldier chief did not mind what he said, and was angry, and spoke rudely to him for having given his opinion on the matter.

So now the chief of the soldiers mustered his men and divided them into parties. One party he stationed on the hill which was Walker's camp, and with all the rest he went to the attack. And first came a small party with a young chief leading them; these were all _toa_ who had consented to die, so that those who followed might succeed. After them came a party of about eighty men, and after these came the main body of the soldiers; and with them also advanced the sailors, and the pakeha Maori, carrying ladders. The sailors advanced without their chief, for as yet he (Philpots) remained to fire some last shots from the big gun. But there was with them a young chief called Pena (Mr. Spain). So the whole attack moved on. We soon saw with great surprise that the soldiers were not going to attack that part of the pa which for so many days had been battered by the big guns, and where there might have been some small chance of their getting in, for in that direction the fence had been damaged in some degree, particularly by the large ship gun. The soldiers, however, advanced as they had been ordered against that part of the pa which had been built stronger than any other, and which had not been fired at at all by the big guns. The reason why this part of the pa was the strongest was, because it was the part which had been originally built by Pene Taui as a pa for himself. He had begun it at the beginning of the war, and built it at his leisure, and made it very strong. And also that part of the pa was the nearest to the forest; so all the largest and heaviest timber, which was difficult to move, was put there. But when Heke and Kawiti fell back to Ohaeawae, this original pa was found too small to hold their people; so they enlarged it very much; but, being in a great hurry, expecting the soldiers back from Auckland, they could not take time to make the new part so strong as that which had been first built by Taui; but, nevertheless, by working hard day and night, they made it very strong.

So the soldiers marched on silently and in good order, in full view of the pa, till they came opposite to the part they were about to attack, and then they halted in a little hollow to prepare for the great rush. But all this was done quietly, and in an orderly manner. The chiefs did not make speeches, or jump, or stamp about as we Maori do to encourage the men, but all was quiet, and silent, and orderly, as if nothing uncommon was about to take place. I took great notice of this, and did not know what to think; for, when we Maori have determined to do a desperate thing like this, we are all like mad men, and make a great clamour, rushing towards the world of darkness (_te po_) with great noise and fury.

While the soldiers were advancing, Walker and all the people went and took up a position behind the pa, so that in case the soldiers got in, the retreat of the enemy would be cut off, in case they attempted to escape in that direction.

Now the defenders of the pa perceived that the time of battle was come, and all went to their stations, and the chiefs stood up and made speeches, each to his own family. This was the speech of Haupokeha--"Have great patience this day, O children and friends; we have said 'Let us fight the soldiers,' and behold the rage of the soldier is at hand; be brave and enduring this day; be victorious; the parent who maintains us is the land--die for the land!--die for the land!" Other chiefs spoke to the people, and some of the young men left the trenches, and called to the old men to lead them out to fight the soldiers in the open plain before the pa; but Haupokeha, in great anger, said, "No; this shall not be done: return to your stations, and you shall see the enemy walk alive into the oven: they are coming only to their own destruction." At this moment the bugle sounded, and the soldiers came charging on, shouting after the manner of European warriors, and those who were on Walker's hill shouted also; and we Maori behind the pa shouted also; and the whole valley resounded with the anger of the pakeha! Soon the soldiers were within twenty fathoms of the fort; and then the fire darted from under the pekerangi; the noise of guns was heard, and the foremost soldiers fell headlong to the ground. But the soldiers are very brave: they charged right on, and came up to the pekerangi, which is the outer fence, and began to tear it to pieces with their hands. Then Philpots, when he saw the sailors charge, left the big gun and ran across the plain, and joined them; and he, being a _toa_, shouted to his men to be resolute, and destroy the fence; and then, with one pull, the sailors brought down about five fathoms of the pekerangi; and then they were before the true fence, which being made of whole trees placed upright and fixed deeply in the ground, could not be pulled down at all. All this time the fire from inside through the loopholes continued unceasingly, at the distance of one arm's length from where the soldiers were standing, and also a heavy fire came from a flanking angle at a distance of ten fathoms; and in this angle there was a big gun; it was heavily loaded with powder, and for shot there was put into it a long bullock chain, and this was fired into the midst of the soldiers, doing great damage. So the soldiers fell there, one on the other, in great numbers; but not one thought of running away. And Philpots did all a man could do to break down the inside fence, but it could not be done at all; so he ran along this fence till he saw a small opening which had been made to fire a big gun through, and he tried to get through this opening, at the same time calling to his men to follow. Then the people in the pa saw him, and about ten men fired at him, but all missed, and he almost got into the midst of the place, still calling on his men to follow, when a young lad fired at him, and killed him dead at once. So he lay there dead with his sword in his hand, like a toa as he was; but the noise and smoke, shouting and confusion, were so great as to prevent his men from perceiving that he was killed, and bearing off his body, for such is the appearance of war. Also, a chief of the soldiers was killed (Captain Grant), and another died of his wounds, and there was a long line of dead and wounded men lying along the outside of the fence, and soon all would have been killed, but the chief of the soldiers, seeing this, sounded a call on the tetere (bugle) for them to retreat. And then, but not before, the soldiers began to run back, taking with them most of the wounded; but about forty dead were left behind, under the wall of the pa. This battle did not take up near so long a time as I am telling of it, and in it about one hundred and ten Europeans were killed or wounded.

Great is the courage of the soldiers! They will walk quietly at the command of their chiefs to certain death; there is no people to be compared to them; but they were obliged to retreat. The number of men in the fort was about one hundred and seventy, and the part attacked was defended by the hapu of Pene Taui, in number just forty men. So the war runners ran through all the north, saying--"One wing of England is broken, and hangs dangling on the ground."

Before saying any more of this fight, I must tell you of two slaves--one called Peter, who belonged to Kaetoke, and the other called Tarata, who belongs to Ti Kahuka. Many years ago Tarata went to England in a large ship, and having gone ashore to see what he could see, he lost his way in the great town called London. So, in the night, the police found him wandering about, and took him prisoner, and put him in the whareherehere (watch-house), for they thought he had stolen a bundle of clothes which he was carrying. In the morning they brought him before the chief and accused him, but Tarata had not been able to learn to speak English, so he could not defend himself, or say from whence he came; so he thought he was going to be killed, and began to cry. Just then a ship captain came into the house, and seeing Tarata he knew he was a Maori, and spoke to him in Maori, and told him not to be afraid, and then he turned to the chief of the police and made a speech to him, and to all the people who were assembled there to see Tarata killed, as he believed; but when the ship captain had done speaking, the chief of the police was no longer angry, and said, "Poor fellow, poor fellow;" and then all the people present gave each a small piece of money to Tarata. Some gave sixpence, some a shilling, and some a few coppers; the chief of the police gave Tarata five shillings. When all the money was together there was more than ever Tarata had seen before, so he was very glad indeed; and a policeman went with him and showed him the way to his ship, and took care of him, lest he should be robbed of his money. After this Tarata returned to New Zealand, and many years after he came with his chief to the war to help Walker. So at Ohaeawae, when he saw the soldiers going to the attack, he thought of the goodness of the people of England, and so he said, "I will go and die along with these soldiers." Then, when Peter, the slave of Kaetoke, heard this, he said, "I also am a pakeha; I have been reared since a child by the Europeans; they have made me a man, and all the flesh on my bones belongs to them." So these two slaves ran quickly and took their place with the _wakaka_ (forlorn-hope, or leading party) of the soldiers, but when the chief of that party saw them, he ordered them to return; but they persisted in going on, so the soldier ran at them and cut at them with his sword, and his soldiers were shouting and running on. So the two slaves stood to one side, but would not return, and when the soldiers had passed, they followed them up to the fence of the pa, and stood there firing into it till the soldiers fell back, and afterwards, when the soldiers retreated, they carried off one wounded soldier who had been left behind.

After the fight, the chief of the soldiers sent some people with a white flag to the pa, to ask permission to take away the dead soldiers who lay beside the fence. They were told that they might come and take them next day. Soon after the flag had returned it was night, and then many near friends of Heke came from Kaikohe and entered the pa, for they had heard that the soldiers had been beaten off, and this gave them courage to come, which they had not before, and then late in the night they joining with the men of the pa danced the war dance which is appropriate to victory, and sang the song of triumph as they danced, and the song sounded among the hills in the night like thunder. This was the song--

E tama te uaua,
E taima te maroro,
Ina hoki ra te tohu!
O te uaua.
Kei taku ringa, e mauana.
Te upoko.
O te Kawau Tatakiha!

O youth, of sinewy force,
O men of martial strength,
Behold the sign of power!
In my hand I hold the scalp,
Of the Kawau Tatakiha.

And often in the night the watch-cry of the pa was heard, and this was the cry of the pa--"Come on! come on! soldiers, for revenge, come on! Stiff lie your dead by the fence of my pa--come on, come on!" And also a great shouting and screaming was heard, which the soldiers thought was the cry of one of their men being tortured; but the noise was the voice of a priest who was then possessed of a spirit. But, nevertheless, the body of one soldier was burned that night, for as the people were mending the fence by torchlight there was a dead soldier lying near, and they put a torch of kauri resin on the body to light their work, which burnt the body very much, and caused the report to be spread afterwards, when the body was found by the soldiers, that the man had been tortured; but this was not true, for the man was dead before the fire was thrown on the body.

During the night a report arose amongst the Maori of Walker's camp--I don't know how or from what cause--that the soldiers were about to decamp under cover of darkness, and that the chief of the soldiers had proposed to shoot all his wounded men to prevent them falling alive into the hands of the enemy. When we heard this we got into a state of commotion and great alarm, and did not know what to do. I ran off to a hut where an old pakeha friend of mine slept, and having aroused him, I told him what I had heard, and asked him if such things ever had been done by his countrymen, and also what he thought would be best for us to do. My friend said nothing for some time, but lit his pipe and smoked a little, and at last he said, "Such a thing has never yet been done by English soldiers, and be assured will not be done to-night; but, nevertheless, go you to all your relations and those who will listen to your words, and make them watch with their arms in their hands till daylight. I will do the same with my friends, for, perhaps, the soldiers might go to-night to take away the wounded to the Waimate and then return: who knows? And in the morning, perhaps, the enemy may think they are gone away entirely, and may come out of the pa; so, in that case, you and I will elevate our names by fighting them ourselves, without the soldiers." So I and my pakeha friend watched all night with the people, until the sun rose. But the soldiers did not go away that night, so I suppose the report was false, but it alarmed us much at the time, and some of us were very near running away that night.[40]

[Footnote 40: This report actually was really spread in the camp the night after the attack. It struck the natives with consternation, and there are those who still believe that there was _some_ foundation for it, and that a retreat had been talked of.]

When the morning came, a party went to bring away the bodies of the dead. The people of the pa had drawn them to a distance from the fence, and left them to be taken away, so they were taken and buried near the camp; and when this was done, the soldiers began to fire on the pa, and the war began again. But the body of the soldier chief who had been killed was not given up, for much of the flesh had been cut off. This was done by the advice of the tohunga, so that the soldiers having been dried for food they might lose their _mana_ (_prestige_, good fortune), and be in consequence less feared.

And the scalp had been taken from the head of Philpots to be used by the tohunga in divination to discover the event of the war. This was not done from revenge or ill-will to him, but because, as he was a _toa_ and a chief, his scalp was more desirable for this purpose than that of an ordinary person.

So the foliage of the battle-field was taken to the Atua Wera that he might perform the usual ceremonies, and cause the people to be fortunate in the war.[41]

[Footnote 41: Amongst other superstitious native customs, when a battle has been fought, the victorious party send to their priest, no matter how far he may be off, a collection of the herbage actually growing on the field of battle; he takes it and performs with it certain ceremonies, and sends back the messenger with his advice, &c., &c. This is called sending the _rahu rahu_ of the battle field. _Rahu rahu_ is the name of the _fern_ which is the most common plant in the North Island.]

When the people in the pa saw that, although the soldiers had lost so many men, they were not dismayed, and seeing also that the inner fence was beginning to give way before the fire of the big gun, they made up their minds to leave the pa in the night, so that the soldiers should not have an opportunity to revenge themselves. So in the night they all left, and went to Kaikohe, without it having been perceived that they were gone.

However, before they had been gone very long, Walker's people began to suspect what had taken place, for the dogs in the deserted pa were howling, and the watch-cry was no longer heard. So a man called Tamahue entered it cautiously, and found it deserted. He crept on softly, and in entering a house he put his hand on a woman who had been left behind asleep, so he kept quiet to see if the sleeping person would awake; and he began to believe that the people had not left the pa, and was about to kill the sleeping person for _utu_ for himself, for he did not expect to escape alive, there being so many pits and trenches which he could not see in the dark. He, however, thought it would be best first to examine the other houses. This he did, and perceived that the place was deserted, for all the other houses were empty. The only weapon Tamahue had was a tomahawk, for he had lost his left arm at a great battle at Hokianga some years before, and was therefore unable to use a gun. So he returned to the sleeping person, and jumped upon her, and raised his hand to strike, for he did not know it was a woman who was sleeping there, but thought it was a warrior. But though he had but one arm he did not call to his brother, who was close outside the pa, for he intended to strike the first blow in the inside of this fortress himself. You must know that we Maori think this a great thing, even though the blow be struck only against a post or a stone. But Tamahue being naked, as all good warriors should be when on a dangerous adventure, his bare knees pressed against the breast of the sleeping person, and then he perceived it was a woman, so he struck his tomahawk into the ground only, and having taken her prisoner, he called his brother, and they returned to the camp, and gave information that the pa was deserted.

Then all at once there arose a great confusion. All the Maori and most of the soldiers ran off to the pa in the dark, and they tumbled by tens into the pits and trenches, which were in the inside of the place. The soldiers ran about searching for plunder, and quarrelling with the Maori for ducks and geese. There was a great noise, every one shouting at once, and as much uproar as if the place had been taken by storm; and so this was how Ohaeawae was taken.

In the morning the soldiers dug up the dead of the enemy, nine in number, being in search of the body of the soldier chief who had been killed in the attack. They found the body and also that of the soldier which had been burned; and besides the nine bodies of the enemy's men which the soldiers dug up, there was also found the body of a woman lying in the pa, which made ten the people of the pa had lost.

While the soldiers were doing this, all the Maori went in pursuit of the enemy as far as Kaikohe; and when they got there a certain pakeha met them, and spoke angrily to the chiefs for pursuing Heke's people, and told us that our souls would be roasted in the other world for making war on Sunday--for it was on Sunday this happened. So the chiefs thought that perhaps it might be unlucky to fight on the _ratapu_; they, therefore, only set fire to Heke's house at Kaikohe, and returned to the camp at Ohaeawae. But before the war was over, we all found that the soldiers did not mind Sunday at all when any harm could be done on it; but when there was nothing else to do they always went to prayers.

After this the soldiers burned the pa, and went back to the Waimate, where they built a fort, and stayed some time, and there they buried Philpots; and we Maori still remember Philpots, for he was a generous, brave, and good-natured man. But now years have gone by, and his ship has sailed away--no one knows where--and he is left by his people; but sometimes a pakeha traveller may be seen standing by his grave. But the Europeans do not lament so loudly as we do; they have perhaps the same thought as some of us, who say that the best lamentation for a _toa_ is a blow struck against the enemy.

While the soldiers were staying at Waimate, Kawiti left Kaikohe, and went to his own place at the Ruapekapeka, and fortified it, making it very strong; but Heke remained at Tautora, not yet cured of his wound. There was a pa near Waimate, belonging to Te Aratua, and the soldiers went to attack it; but when Te Aratua heard they were coming, he left it, and so the soldiers took it, and burned it, without any opposition.

Some time after this the soldiers left Waimate, and went to the Bay of Islands, where others joined them. The sailors came also in the ships of war, and with them came also the pakeha Maori; and there was a great gathering, for the soldiers had heard that the fort of Kawiti at the Ruapekapeka was completely finished and ready for war, and therefore they prepared to attack it. Walker also, and the other chiefs with their people, joined the soldiers as before; and when we were all together we formed a grand war party--the greatest that had been seen during the war. The soldiers forgot nothing this time. They brought with them all their arms of every kind. They brought long and short big guns, and rockets, and guns the shot of which bursts with a great noise. Nothing was left behind. We were glad of this, for we wished to see the full strength of the soldiers put forth, that we might see what the utmost of their power was.[42]

[Footnote 42: The friendly natives never lost sight of the possibility that they themselves might some day have to fight us. They therefore scrutinized closely all our military proceedings, and were anxious to see us do our very best, or rather, our _worst_, so that they might know what they would have to contend against.]

So this great war party left the Bay of Islands, and went up the river to attack Kawiti at the Ruapekapeka. They went in boats and canoes, and having arrived at the pa of Tamati Pukututu, they landed the guns, and powder, and provisions, and began making a road to the Ruapekapeka. And after many days, the road being completed, the _taua_ advanced, and encamped before the Ruapekapeka.

During the first two days there was not much done, but when all had been got ready, the soldiers began to fire in earnest--rockets, mortars, ship guns, long brass guns--all burst out firing at once. We were almost deaf with the noise, and the air was full of cannon balls. The fence of the pa began to disappear like a bank of fog before the morning breeze. So now we saw that the soldiers had at last found out how to knock down a pa. But before the fence was completely broken down, the chief of the soldiers ordered his men to rush up to the pa as they had done before at Ohaeawae. The soldiers were about to do so, for they are a very obedient people, when Moses, with much difficulty, persuaded the chief of the soldiers not to let them go, by telling him that he was only going to waste all his men's lives, and advising him to wait till the fence was entirely gone before he made the attack. We all disliked this soldier very much, and saw that he was a very foolish, inexperienced person, and also that he cared nothing for the lives of his soldiers; but we thought it a great pity to waste such fine well-grown men as the soldiers were, without any chance of revenge.

So the guns fired away, and after a few days the fence was completely down in many places, for the shot came like a shower of hail; but not many were killed in the pa, for they had plenty of houses under ground which the shot could not reach; but they were out of all patience, by reason of the pot guns (mortars). These guns had shot which were hollow exactly like a calabash, and they were full of gunpowder, and they came tumbling into the pa, one after another, and they would hardly be on the ground before they would burst with a great noise; and no sooner would one burst than another would burst; and so they came one after another so fast that the people in the pa could get no rest, and were getting quite deaf. These guns, however, never killed any one. They are a very vexatious invention for making people deaf, and preventing them from getting any sleep. One good thing about them is, that, whenever one of the shots does not burst, a considerable number of charges of powder for a musket can be got out of it; and whenever one dropped close to any of the men in the pa, he would pull out the _wicki_ (fuse), and then get out the powder. A good deal of powder was procured in this way.

The pot guns are to make people deaf, and keep them from sleeping; the rockets are to kill people and burn their houses. A rocket knocked off the head of a woman in the pa, but did not hurt a child she had on her back at the time. Another took off the head of a young man of the Kapotai; another took out the stomach of a slave called Hi; he belonged to the Wharepapa chief of the Ihutai. This slave lived till night, crying for some one to shoot him, and then died. One man was killed by a cannon ball which came through the fence and knocked his leg off as easily as if it had been a boiled potato. The man was a warrior of the Ngati Kahununu, from the south; when he saw his leg was off above the knee, he cried out, "Look here, the iron has run away with my leg; what playful creatures these cannon balls are!" When he said this, he fell back and died, smiling, as brave warriors do.

There was not many killed in the pa, for the people kept under ground; neither did the soldiers lose many men, for they kept at a distance, and let the big guns and rockets do all the work. One evening a strong party rushed out of the pa and attacked Walker's men, and a pretty smart fight ensued. Now, this party were for the most part of the Kapotai tribe, who had killed Hauraki at Waikare, and among Walker's men were several young men, cousins of Hauraki, who had come to seek revenge; and these young men fought with great spirit, and one of them killed Ripiro, a Kapotai, and took his name.[43] Some others of the Kapotai were killed, and others wounded, but none of Walker's men were killed, and only a few wounded. Amongst the wounded, however, was that brave warrior Wi Repa, who had three fingers of his left hand shot off, being the second time he had been wounded during the war.

[Footnote 43: It is a common practice when a native has killed a man of any note in battle, for the party who killed the other to commemorate the exploit by taking the name of the dead man.]

By this time the fences of the pa were broken down very much, but the people waited patiently, in expectation that the soldiers would come on to the attack, for they thought that, though the soldiers would take the place, they would be able to kill many of them, and then escape into the forest behind the pa. But the guns and rockets kept firing on, and the people began to be quite tired of hearing the shells bursting all about them continually, when Heke, who had recovered from his wound, arrived with seventy men. As soon as Heke had observed the state of the pa, and how things were, he said, "You are foolish to remain in this pa to be pounded by cannon balls. Let us leave it. Let the soldiers have it, and we will retire into the forest and draw them after us, where they cannot bring the big guns. The soldiers cannot fight amongst the kareao; they will be as easily killed amongst the canes as if they were wood-pigeons." So all the people left the pa except Kawiti, who lingered behind with a few men, being unwilling to leave his fort without fighting at least one battle for it.

The next day after Heke's arrival was Sunday. Most of the soldiers had gone to prayers; many of Heke's people were at prayers also, and no one was in the pa but Kawiti, and a few men who were in the trenches asleep, not expecting to be attacked that day. But William Walker Turau (Walker's brother) thought he perceived that the pa was not well manned, so he crept carefully up to the place and looked in, and saw no one; but Kawiti with eleven men were sleeping in the trenches. Turau then waved his hand to Walker, who was waiting for a signal, and then stepped noiselessly into the fort. Then Walker and Tao Nui with both their tribes came rushing on. The soldiers seeing this left prayers, and with the sailors came rushing into the pa in a great crowd--sailors, soldiers, and Maori all mixed up without any order whatever. When the pa was entered the soldiers set up a great shout, which awakening Kawiti, he started up with his eleven men, and saw his pa was taken. How could it be helped? So he and his men fired a volley, and then loaded again, and fired a second volley, which was as much as he could do. Then they ran away and joined Heke at the rear of the pa, where he called aloud to the Ngapuhi to fight, and not allow his pa to be taken without a battle.[44]

[Footnote 44: Kawiti seeing that all the other forts had made so good a defence wished not to abandon his without standing an assault. Heke, however, who was the best general, saw the place would soon become quite untenable from the fire of the artillery, and advised an immediate retreat to the border of the forest; he, however, had great difficulty to get Kawiti, who had a good deal of the bulldog in him, to retreat. The old chief, however, _did_ fire a volley in the inside of the place when the soldiers entered, which he considered saved his honour, as it could not be said he left his fort without fighting.]

Then the Ngapuhi returned to attack their own pa, which was full of soldiers, and creeping up behind rocks and trees they began to fire, and called out in English, "Never mind the soldiers! Never mind the soldiers!" They did this hoping to enrage the soldiers, and cause them to leave the pa, and follow them into the forest; but most of the soldiers remained in the pa firing through loopholes, for the back of the pa which was now attacked by the Ngapuhi was yet entire, not having been so much broken down by the big guns as the front side had been. A few sailors and soldiers, however, went out at a little gate at the back of the pa, but were no sooner out than they were shot by the people behind the trees. At last some forty or fifty soldiers got out, and a fight began outside. But Heke and the main body of his men remained at a distance beside the thick forest, in hopes that the party who were fighting the soldiers would soon fall back, and so lead the soldiers to follow them into the forest, where Heke had his ambush prepared for them. But these people did not retire as they should have done, for a report was heard that Kawiti had been killed or taken, and this enraged them so much that they would not retreat, and they remained there trying to retake the pa. But they lost many men, for hundreds were firing at them from loopholes in the pa, besides the soldiers who were close to them outside. Many soldiers were killed or wounded who might have escaped being hurt if they had got behind trees; but these men did not care about covering themselves when they might have done so. The Maori at one time charged, and there was among them a young half-caste; he had in his hand a broad, sharp tomahawk with a long handle, and he rushed upon a sailor, and using both hands he struck him on the neck, and the head fell over the man's shoulders nearly cut off. This was the only man killed by stroke of hand in this fight.

At last Heke sent a man to tell the people to fall back; but they said they would not do so, but would all die there, for Kawiti had been taken. Then the messenger told them that Kawiti was safe and well with Heke, and that he had just seen him; so when they heard this they fell back at once, but the soldiers did not follow, being restrained by their different chiefs. So the fight ended, and the Ruapekapeka was taken, and this was the last fight of the war.

There were killed in this fight of Heke's people twenty-three men, and Heke wrote their names in a book, and also the names of all others who had fallen in the war.

How many men the soldiers had killed in the fight I do not know, but I don't think they lost quite so many as the Maori, for most of them were firing through the loopholes of the pa and out of the trenches, and so were well sheltered. One soldier, as I have heard say, was shot by another, because he was going to run away. I don't think it right to do this. When a man feels afraid who is ordinarily of good courage, it is a sign that he will be killed, and he ought to be allowed to go away. It is bad to disregard omens. When a man feels courageous let him fight, and he will be fortunate.

Next day, Heke, Kawiti, and all the people began to consult as to what should be done; for the fort was taken, and they had no provisions, and there was none at any of their other places--all having been consumed or wasted during the war, and but little had been planted. And the people told the chiefs that they could not live on fern root and fight the soldiers at the same time. They began to say to the chiefs, "Can shadows carry muskets?" They were much perplexed, and some proposed to break up into small parties, and go and live with different tribes who had not taken part in the war, but amongst whom they had friends or distant relations. After talking over this plan for some time it was found it would not do, for already some chiefs of distant tribes had said they would give up any one who came to them to the Governor, rather than bring a war against themselves. At last it was proposed to write to the Governor to ask him to make peace. So the letter was written and sent, but no one expected the Governor would make peace so quickly. He, however, consented at once to make peace, and so peace was made, and Heke's people were very glad indeed. But the chiefs who had been on the side of the soldiers were very sorry, for had the war been continued a little longer, Heke's people would have been starved and scattered, and Walker's people could have taken their land in various places; and, also, after they had been obliged to scatter about the country to obtain subsistence, many would have been taken prisoners, and they never would have had courage to fight again.

When Heke saw that peace was sure to be made, he went away to Tautoro, and said he did not want peace to be made, but that if the Governor came to him and asked for peace he would consent. Heke is a man of many thoughts. So Heke kept at a distance at his own place, and never made peace with the Governor or Walker, until Walker at last came to him, and then Heke said that as Walker had come to him there should be peace, but that until the Governor came also and asked for peace, he would not consider it fully made.

Well, no one thought that the Governor would go to see Heke, for we think that whoever goes first to the other, is the party who asks for peace. But the Governor _did_ go to see Heke, and shook hands with him, but Heke has never gone to see the Governor; and now the war is over, and Heke is the greatest man in this Island, and will be KING by-and-by. All the Europeans are afraid of him, and give him anything he asks for, or if they refuse he takes it, and no one dare say anything to him.

Great is the courage of the Maori people! You have now heard how they made war against the noble people of England, and were not quite exterminated, as many expected they would be. But Heke, their chief, is a very knowing man; he is learned even in European knowledge. I will tell you how he has become possessed of this knowledge, which enabled him to make war successfully against the soldiers. He has a European friend who has been a very great warrior--a very experienced warrior indeed. It was he who overcame the great soldier of France, Buonaparte, and afterwards in a great sea-fight he defeated and killed the great war-chief of England, Wellington. Besides, he gained many other battles by sea and land, and he wrote all his wars in two books. Now, he lent Heke the first of these books to show him how to fight with the soldiers, which is the reason he has been so successful, but if he had had the second book he would have taken Auckland, and been King of New Zealand long ago; but he will get it by-and-by. I never saw this book, and Heke never shows it to any one, for he wants to keep all the knowledge to himself. Now, what are you laughing at? It is no use to tell me that Wellington is alive yet. Heke's pakeha killed him long ago--before you were born, perhaps. You are only a young man; what do you know about it? The Wellington you mean is some other Wellington; but the great soldier Wellington, of England, was killed long ago by Heke's pakeha. The Governor is not near so great a man as this friend of Heke's, and is afraid of him.[45]

[Footnote 45: Hundreds of natives believed firmly in this absurd story before and during the war. In the present day (1861), when these notes are written, "Young New Zealand" would only laugh at it. But formerly this and other equally ridiculous tales were not only believed but had very serious effects. Heke was not the author of the story, but he found it to his hand, added the "_books_" to it, and turned it to his account. His "pakeha friend" is still extant, as well as the other "pakeha" who endeavoured to prevent Walker's people from taking our part in the war, but they are not by any means such "great men" as in the days when it was believed that one of them was the conqueror of both Wellington and Buonaparte!]

This has been a great talk. What payment are you going to give me? Give me that bottle of rum. I am _so_ thirsty with talking. Don't shake your head; I _must_ have it. Oh, how sweet rum is! There is nothing in the whole world so good. I know a pakeha, who says, if I will get him a big pot, and some old gun-barrels, he will show me how to make rum out of corn. Don't take that bottle away. Come, give it me. You are a chief. Give me the bottle. You are not afraid of the law. I am a great chief; _I_ am not afraid of the law. I will make plenty of rum, and sell it to the pakeha, and get all their money, and I will have a house, and tables, and chairs, and all those sort of things for people to look at; and when the Governor comes to see me, I will scatter money all about the floor, so that when the Governor sees how much more money I have than he has, he will be quite ashamed, and think himself not near so great a chief as I am. I will have fifty pakeha servants, and they shall all work for me one day, and I will make them drunk the next for payment, and the next day they shall work, and the next get drunk, and there shall not be a watch-house in the whole land.[46]

[Footnote 46: This _convivial_ scene with my friend the chief is no fiction, but a faithful relation, like everything else in this book, of what actually was said and done. It certainly does not come into the "History of the War," but is inserted just to give some idea of the state of things in the country districts, and the terms on which the country settlers manage to exist with their native "friends." The chief's _speculation_ in the distilling line is faithfully given word for word, as he explained it to me. But it has never come to anything, for although he actually got the "pakeha" to come to his place for the purpose of making "rum" out of corn, when he got him there he _plucked_ him to such an extent, not leaving him even a blanket on his bed, that he ran for it, and the distillery in consequence came to naught.]

The bottle is empty, get me another. Do now. You are my friend. Give me the key! I will get it myself. You won't! I will break open the door. I will tell the magistrate you have been giving me rum. You are a slave. You are _all_ slaves. Your grandfathers have all been put in the watch-house. You are afraid of the magistrate, the magistrate is afraid of the Governor, and the Governor is afraid of Heke. You want to rob us of our country, and to hang us up like dried sharks. You _can't_. You are not able. You are cowards. _You_ are a coward! Kapai Heke![47] (Here exit Ngapuhi chief head-foremost on to the grass-plat before the door, and so ends the history of the war with Heke.)