Maori and Settler: A Story of The New Zealand War

Mr. Atherton had not exaggerated the fatigues and hardships that the force would be called upon to undergo, and they were worn out and exhausted when at last they came upon the track of the Hau-Haus. When they were resting for a short halt Captain Carr, late R.A., who was with the force as a volunteer, reconnoitred a short distance ahead and found the enemy's fire still burning. The news infused fresh life into the tired and hungry men, and they again went forward. The track led up the bed of a river which ran between low, steep cliffs impossible to climb, and the men had to advance in single file. After marching for some distance they reached a bend in the river, where a narrow track ran through a break in the cliff and up the spur of a hill. The advanced guard, consisting of six men, led by Captain Carr, were within fifty yards of this point, when a heavy fire was opened upon them. Just where they were the river bank was sufficiently low to enable them to climb it and take cover in the thick scrub above, whence they replied vigorously to the Hau-Haus, who were within a few yards of them. In the meantime the enemy had opened fire from the base of the hill at the river bend upon the main body, who, standing in single file in the river, were unable to reply or to scale the steep bank and take covering in the scrub. Colonel Whitmore and Captain Tuke tried to lead the men up to charge, but this could only be done in single file, and the fire of the enemy was so hot that those who attempted this were killed or wounded, Captain Tuke being severely hurt. The rest found what shelter they could among the boulders in the river bed, and remained here until the advanced guard fell back, hard pressed by the enemy, and reported the death of Captain Carr and Mr. Canning, another volunteer.

The natives now pressed through the scrub above the cliffs to cut off the retreat. The friendly natives, who were well behind, were ordered to scale the cliff then, and hold the enemy in check. One of them was wounded, and the rest hastily retreated down the river; the constabulary and settlers, altogether about fifty strong, fell back to an island about half a mile to the rear, and here calmly awaited the attack of the enemy. These, however, drew off without disturbing them, disheartened by the fact that Te Kooti had received a wound in the foot, and the troops then retired. Only a few of the strongest men reached the camp that night; the rest, knocked up by want of food and fatigue, lay down in the pouring rain and did not get in until the following morning.

The result of this fight was most unfortunate. Even Colonel Whitmore saw that, with the force at his disposal, nothing could be done against Te Kooti, who was daily becoming more powerful, and was being joined by the tribes in the vicinity. He believed that Te Kooti would carry out his expressed intention of marching north to Waikato, and after collecting there all the tribes of the island, march against Auckland. Thinking, therefore, that Poverty Bay was not likely to be disturbed, he left the settlement and went round by sea to Auckland to confer with government as to the steps to be taken to raise a force capable of coping with what appeared to be the greatest danger that had as yet threatened the island. Te Kooti did not, however, move north, but remained in his camp near the scene of the fight from the 8th of August to the 28th of October, sending messages all over the island with the news of the defeat he had inflicted upon the whites, and proclaiming himself the saviour of the Maori people.

From the position he occupied, about equidistant from the settlements at Wairoa and Poverty Bay, he was able to attack either by a sudden march of two or three days, and yet there was no great uneasiness among the settlers. The force that had operated against Te Kooti had been disbanded, the Napier volunteers had returned, the constabulary withdrawn, and the party of settlers from the Mohaka river had returned home. Wilfrid Renshaw had not gone with them. He had been shot through the leg in the fight in the river, and had been carried down to the settlement. Here Mr. Atherton, who was lodging in one of the settler's houses, had taken charge of him and nursed him assiduously.

Unfortunately the effect of the wound was aggravated by the exhaustion caused by fatigue and insufficient food, and for weeks the lad lay in a state of prostration, wasted by a low fever which at one time seemed as if it would carry him off. It was not until the middle of October that matters took a turn, and he began slowly to mend. For the last three weeks his mother had been by his bedside. For some time Mr. Atherton in his letters had made light of the wound, but when the lad's condition became very serious he had written to Mrs. Renshaw saying that he thought she had better come herself to help in the nursing, as Wilfrid was now suffering from a sharp attack of fever brought on by his hardships.

Mrs. Renshaw, on her arrival, was dismayed at the state in which she found her son. She agreed, however, that it was best not to alarm them in her letters home. The events on the attack of the settlement had much shaken Mr. Renshaw, and he was, when she left him, in a nervous and excited state. She saw that Wilfrid would need every moment of her time, and that were her husband to come it would probably do him harm and seriously interfere with her own usefulness. He was, when she left, on the point of returning to the farm with Marion, as there had been no further renewal of troubles in the settlement.

It had been arranged that the two Allens should take up their residence at The Glade, and that four men belonging to a small force that had been raised among the friendly natives should also be stationed there. This would, it was thought, render it quite safe against sudden attack. Mr. Renshaw was looking eagerly forward to being at home again, and his wife thought that the necessity of superintending the operations at the farm would soothe his nerves and restore him to health. She, therefore, in her letters made the best of things, although admitting that Wilfrid was prostrated by a sort of low fever, and needed care and nursing.

At the end of another fortnight Wilfrid was enabled to sit up and take an interest in what was going on around him. The house was the property of a settler named Sampson, and had been erected by a predecessor of the farmer; it was a good deal larger than he required, though its capacity was now taxed to the utmost by the addition of three lodgers to his family.

"How are things going on, Mr. Atherton?" Wilfrid asked one day when his mother was not present.

"People here seem to think that they are going on very well, Wilfrid."

"But you do not think so, Mr. Atherton?" the lad asked, struck by the dry tone in which the answer was given.

"No, Wilfrid, I cannot say I do. It seems to me that the people here are living in a fool's paradise; and as for Major Biggs I regard him as an obstinate fool."

"How is that?" Wilfrid asked, amused at his friend's vehemence.

"Well, Wilfrid, as far as I can see there is nothing in the world to prevent Te Kooti coming down and cutting all our throats whenever he pleases."

"You don't say so, Mr. Atherton!"

"I do, indeed; it is known that he has sent messages down to the natives here to remain apparently loyal, get what arms they can from the whites, and prepare to join him. I will say for Biggs that he has repeatedly represented the unprotected position of the bay to government, and has obtained permission to place an officer and nine men on pay as scouts to watch the roads leading to the settlements. Gascoigne is in charge of them. There are two roads by which the natives can come; the one a short one, and this is being watched, the other a much longer and more difficult one, and this is entirely open to them if they choose to use it.

"The fact is, Biggs relies on the fact that Colonel Lambert is at Wairoa, and is collecting a force of 600 men there to attack Te Kooti, and he believes that he shall get information from him and from some spies he has in the neighbourhood of Te Kooti's camp long before any movement is actually made. Of course he may do so, but I consider it is a very risky thing to trust the safety of the whole settlement to chance. He ought to station four mounted men on both tracks as near as he dare to Te Kooti's camp. In that case we should be sure to get news in plenty of time to put all the able-bodied men under arms before the enemy could reach the settlement."

"Have they got a stockade built?"

"No, it was proposed at a meeting of some of the settlers that this should be done, but Biggs assured them it was altogether unnecessary. I do not know how it is, Wilfrid, but take us all together we Englishmen have fully a fair share of common sense. I have observed over and over again that in the majority of cases when an Englishman reaches a certain rank in official life, he seems to become an obstinate blockhead. I have often wondered over it, but cannot account for it. Anyhow the state of affairs here is an excellent example of this. I suppose in the whole settlement there is not, with the exception of the man in authority, a single person who does not perceive that the situation is a dangerous one, and that no possible precaution should be omitted; and yet the man who is responsible for the safety of all throws cold water on every proposal, and snubs those who are willing to give up time and labour in order to ensure the safety of the place.

"I suppose he considers that the tone he adopts shows him to be a man superior to those around him, possessing alike far greater knowledge of the situation, and a total freedom from the cowardly fears of his neighbours. Well, well, I hope that events will justify his course, but I own that I sleep with my rifle and revolvers loaded and ready to hand. Mind, I do not say that the chances may not be ten to one against Te Kooti's making a raid down here; but I say if they were a hundred to one it would be the height of folly not to take every possible precaution to ensure the safety of all here."

"Don't you think, Mr. Atherton, that it would be better for mother to go home? I am getting all right now, and can get on very well without her."

"I am sure your mother would not leave you at present, Wilfrid, and I don't think you will be fit to be moved for another fortnight yet. Te Kooti has done nothing for two months, and may not move for as much more. Your mother knows nothing of what I have told you, and I should not make her anxious or uncomfortable by giving her even a hint that I considered there is danger in the air."

CHAPTER XV
THE MASSACRE AT POVERTY BAY

Another week passed and Wilfrid was able to walk about the house and garden. A ship was going down in three days, and Mr. Atherton had arranged with the captain to put into the Mohaka river and land them there. No change had taken place in the situation. There had been a meeting of the settlers and friendly natives. The latter had offered to erect the stockades for a small fort if the settlers would do the earthworks. This they had agreed to, but the project was abandoned, as Major Biggs again declared it to be wholly unnecessary. Some of the settlers, dissatisfied with the result, formed themselves into a vigilance committee to watch the ford of the Waipaoa River.

This was done for several nights, but Major Biggs again interfered, and told them he considered the act to be absurd. The vigilance committee, therefore, ceased to act. A few nights later Te Kooti's people crossed at this very ford. Late in the evening of the 4th of November Mr. Atherton was about to go up to bed when he heard a growl from a dog chained up outside. He listened, and made out the voices of men talking in low tones. The lower windows had shutters, and these Mr. Atherton had with some difficulty persuaded Mr. Sampson, who was himself incredulous as to the possibility of attack, to have fastened up of a night. Mr. Atherton ran upstairs, knocked at the doors of Wilfrid's and the settler's rooms, and told them to get up instantly, as something was wrong. Then he threw up his window.

"Who is there?" he asked.

"Open the door," a native replied, "we have a message for you."

"You can give me the message here. I shall not come down until I know who you are."

"The message is that you are to open the door and come out. Te Kooti wants you."

Mr. Atherton could just make out the figure of the speaker in the darkness.

"That is my answer," he said as he fired.

A fierce yell from twenty throats rose in the air, and there was a rush towards the door, while two or three shots were fired at the window. Mr. Atherton had, however, stepped back the instant he had discharged his rifle, and now, leaning out, discharged the chambers of his revolver in quick succession among the natives gathered round the door. Shrieks and yells arose from them, and they bounded away into the darkness, and again several musket-shots were fired at the window. By this time the settler and Wilfrid had both joined Mr. Atherton, having leapt from their beds, seized their arms, and ran out when the first shot was fired.

"It is Te Kooti's men," Mr. Atherton said. "They have come at last. I expect there will be a few minutes before they attack again. You had better throw on some clothes at once and tell the ladies to dress instantly. We may have to leave the house and try to escape across country."

Wilfrid and the settler gave the messages, and then returned.

"How many of them do you think there are?" Wilfrid asked.

"About twenty of them, I should say, and we could rely upon beating them off; but no doubt there are parties told off to the attack of all the outlying settlers, and when the others have done their work they may gather here."

"Where are they now?" Wilfrid asked as he gazed into the darkness.

"I fancy they are behind that shed over there. They are no doubt arranging their plan of attack. I expect they will try fire. There! do you see? That is the flash of a match."

A minute later a light was seen to rise behind the shed, and there was the sound of breaking wood. The light grew brighter and brighter.

"They will be coming soon," Mr. Atherton said. "Do not throw away a shot. The shingles on this roof are as dry as tinder, and if a burning brand falls on them the place will be in a blaze in five minutes. Now!" As he spoke a number of natives, each carrying a flaming brand, appeared from behind the wood shed. The three rifles cracked out, and as many natives fell. The farmer began to reload his rifle, while Mr. Atherton and Wilfrid handed theirs to Mrs. Renshaw, who at that moment joined them, and opened fire with their revolvers. Only two of Wilfrid's shots told, but Mr. Atherton's aim was as steady as when firing at a mark. Two of the natives fell, and four others, throwing down their brands, ran back wounded to the shelter of the wood shed. Their companions, after a moment's hesitation, followed their example. There were now but six unwounded men out of the twenty who attacked the house.

"There is one of them off for assistance!" Wilfrid exclaimed as he caught sight of a figure running at full speed from the shed. In another moment he was lost in the darkness.

"Now is the time for us to make our escape," Mr. Atherton said, turning from the window. "We have succeeded so far, but there may be three times as many next time, and we must be off. We will get out by a window at the back of the house and try and make our way across country to the Mahia tribe. We shall be safe there."

"But Wilfrid cannot walk a hundred yards," Mrs. Renshaw said.

"Then we must carry him," Mr. Atherton replied cheerfully. "He is no great weight, and we can make a litter when we get far enough away. Take a loaf of bread, Mrs. Sampson, a bottle or two of water, and a flask of spirits. You will find one full on my table. Please hurry up, for there is not a moment to lose. I will stay here to the last moment and fire an occasional shot at the shed to let them know that we are still here."

As the course Mr. Atherton advised was evidently the best, the others followed his instructions without discussion, and three minutes later stepped out from the back window into the garden. Mr. Atherton had been told that they were ready, and after firing a last shot from the window and reloading his rifle joined them. Mrs. Sampson had a small basket on one arm, and her child, who was ten years old, grasping her hand. Mrs. Renshaw had taken charge of Wilfrid's rifle, and had offered him her arm, but the excitement had given him his strength for the moment, and he declared himself perfectly capable of walking without assistance.

"Go on as quietly as you can," Mr. Atherton said. "I will keep a bit behind first. They may possibly have put somebody on the watch on this side of the house, although I do not expect they have. They have been taken too much by surprise themselves."

The little party went on quietly and noiselessly about three hundred yards, and then Mr. Atherton joined them. Wilfrid was breathing heavily and leaning against a tree.

"Now jump up upon my back, Wilfrid," Mr. Atherton said; "your weight will not make much difference to me one way or the other. That is right; lend him a hand, Sampson, and get him on to my shoulders. It will be easier for both of us, for I have got no hips for his knees to catch hold of. That is right. Now if you will take my gun we shall get along merrily."

They walked fast for about two miles. Wilfrid several times offered to get down, saying that he could walk again for a bit, but Mr. Atherton would not hear of it. At the end of two miles they reached the spot where the country was covered with low scrub.

"We are pretty safe now," Mr. Atherton said, "we can turn off from the track and take to the scrub for shelter, and there will be little chance of their finding us. Now, Wilfrid, I will set you down for a bit. This is fine exercise for me, and if I were to carry you a few miles every day I should fine down wonderfully. Ah! the others have come up;" he broke off as the sound of a native yell sounded on the still night air, and looking round they saw a bright light rising in the direction from which they had come.

"They have set fire to the house," the settler said; "there goes the result of six years' work. However, I need not grumble over that, now that we have saved our lives."

"We had best be moving on," Mr. Atherton said. "No doubt they opened a heavy fire before they set fire to the shingles with their brands, but the fact that we did not return their fire must have roused their suspicions, and by this time they must have woke up to the fact that we have escaped. They will hunt about for a bit, no doubt, round the house, and may send a few men some distance along the tracks, but they will know there is very little chance of catching us until daylight. Now, Sampson, let us join arms, your right and my left. Wilfrid can sit on them and put his arms round our necks. We carry our rifles on our other shoulders, and that will balance matters. That is right. Now on we go again." With occasional halts they went on for another four hours. By this time the ladies and the little girl were completely exhausted from stumbling over roots and low shrubs in the darkness and the two men also were thoroughly fatigued; for the night was extremely hot, and the work of carrying Wilfrid in addition to the weight of their ammunition, told upon them. They had long since lost the path, but knew by the stars that they were keeping in the right direction.

"Now we will have a few hours' halt," Mr. Atherton said. "We may consider ourselves as perfectly safe from pursuit, though we shall have to be cautious, for there may be parties of these scoundrels wandering about the country. We may hope that a good many of the settlers heard the firing and made off in time, but I fear we shall hear some sad stories of this night's work."

Lying down the whole party were in a few minutes fast asleep. Wilfrid had offered to keep watch, saying that he had done no walking and could very well keep awake, but Mr. Atherton said that nothing would be gained by it. "You could see nothing, and you would hear nothing until a party of natives were quite close, and unless they happened by sheer accident to stumble upon us they could not find us; besides, though you have done no absolute walking, the exertion of sitting up and holding on has been quite as much for you in your weak state as carrying you has been for us. No, we had best all take a rest so as to start fresh in the morning."

Mr. Atherton woke as soon as daylight broke, and rousing himself, cautiously looked round. There was nothing in sight, and he decided to let the party sleep for a few hours longer. It was eight o'clock and the sun was high before the others opened their eyes.

Mr. Atherton was standing up. "There is a horseman coming across the plain," he said; "no doubt he is following the track; by the line he is taking he will pass a little to our right. I will go out to hear the news. I think you had better remain where you are, he may be followed."

Mr. Atherton walked through the bush until he reached the track just as the rider came along.

"Ah! you have escaped, Mr. Atherton; I am glad of that. Have all your party got away?"

"Yes, thank God!" Mr. Atherton said; "and now what is the news?"

"I cannot tell all," the settler said, "but there has been a terrible massacre. I was pressing wool for Dodd and Peppard, whose station, you know, lies some distance from any other. I rode up there just as day was breaking and went to the wool shed. Nobody came, and I heard the dog barking angrily; so I went up to the house to see what was the matter. I found the back-door open and the two men lying dead inside, evidently killed by natives. I then galloped off to the Mission Station and warned them there, and then to the stations of Hawthorne and Strong. I found they had already been warned, and were just about to start; then I rode to Matawhero to warn the settlers there. Most of them had already made off. I passed Bigg's house on the way; there were a number of natives round it evidently in possession, and as I passed Mann's house I saw him and his wife and child lying outside dead. How many more have been murdered I do not know. It is an awful business. Where are your friends?"

"They are in the scrub there. We are making our way to the Mahia."

"Most of the settlers who have escaped have made for the old redoubt at Taranganui, and I fancy they will be able to beat off any attack made on them. I am riding for Wairoa. I cannot think what they can have been about there to let Te Kooti slip away without sending us a warning. He must have come by the long road and been six or seven days on the march."

"Have you seen any natives since you started?" Mr. Atherton asked.

"I saw a party of about twenty of them moving across the country about two miles back. They were scattered about in the bush, and were, I expect, in search of fugitives. They were moving across the line I was going, and were half a mile away; but when they come on this path they may follow it, knowing that those who made their escape and did not go to the redoubt would be likely to try to reach the Mahia country."

"Thank you! then we will be moving on without delay," Mr. Atherton said; and the settler at once rode on with his message to the force at Wairoa. As soon as Mr. Atherton joined the party and told them what he had heard they again set out. After walking for four miles they reached the edge of the plain, and the path here ascended a sharp rise and entered a narrow defile.

Wilfrid, who was sitting on Mr. Atherton's shoulders, looked back for the twentieth time as they ascended the rise. "They are following us!" he exclaimed. "There are a party of fifteen or twenty coming along the path at a run. They are not more than a mile behind at the outside."

"Then I will put you down, Wilfrid," Mr. Atherton said quietly; "that will give me time to cool down a bit before they arrive. They could not have come up at a better place for us. It is no use our trying to hide, they would track us directly. We must make a stand at the mouth of this defile. It is a good place for defence, and if it were not for this rascally bush we should have no difficulty in keeping them off. Even as it is I think we can make a good fight of it. Now, Mrs. Renshaw, will you and Mrs. Sampson and the child go a little way in and sit down. I have no doubt we shall be able to beat these fellows back, and if we do that we can hope to make the rest of our journey without further molestation."

"Could I be of any use in loading the rifles, Mr. Atherton?"

"I think not, Mrs. Renshaw; it may be a long skirmish, and we shall have plenty of time to load; and your being here with us and running the risk of being hit would make us nervous. I think, if you do not mind, we would much rather know that you are in safety behind us."

"Very well," Mrs. Renshaw said quietly; "I will do what you think best. We shall be praying for your success until it is over."

Mr. Atherton looked round after the two ladies had gone on. "There is a bush with a wide ledge of flat ground behind it," he said, pointing to a little clump of underwood some ten feet above them on the side of the ravine. "I think, with my help, you can manage to clamber up there, Wilfrid. Lying down you will be able to fire under the bush and be in fair shelter. Mr. Sampson and I will hold the path here. If they make a rush you will be able to help us with your revolver. Up there you will have the advantage of being able to see movements among the bushes better than we shall, and can fire down at them; and if it comes to a hand-to-hand fight will be of more use there than down here."

Wilfrid at once assented. "Stand on my hand and I will hoist you up." Mr. Atherton raised Wilfrid until he was able to get on to the ledge of rock behind the bushes. Wilfrid laid himself down there, and with his knife cut off a few of the lower twigs so that he was able to get a good view ahead. "Keep yourself well back, lad, and do not raise your head except to fire. Do you see anything of them?"

"Yes, they are not more than a quarter of a mile away and are scattering among the bushes. No doubt they caught sight of us as we came up here, and think it possible we may intend to defend the defile."

"I will let them know we are here;" and Mr. Atherton made two steps forward to the mouth of the defile. Almost at the same instant he levelled his rifle and fired, and one of the Maoris threw up his arms and fell back, the rest throwing themselves down instantaneously among the bushes, whence a moment later two or three shots were fired. But Mr. Atherton had stepped back, and he and the settler, lying down on the ground, worked themselves forward until by raising their heads they could command a view of the slope up to the mouth of the ravine.

For a time all was silent. Presently Wilfrid's rifle spoke out, and a yell testified to the fact that the quick aim he had taken at a dark figure stealing among the bushes had been true. It was followed quickly by a general discharge of their pieces by the natives. The bullets rattled thickly against the rock, and cut leaves from the bushes behind which Wilfrid was lying, but he had drawn himself back a foot or two the moment he fired, and the balls passed harmlessly over him. Not so the missive despatched by Mr. Atherton in the direction of a puff of smoke from a bush some forty yards away, for the figure behind it remained still and immovable while the fray went on. For upwards of an hour the exchange of shots continued, and then the assailants were joined by fifteen other natives, who had been attracted to the spot by the sound of firing.

"I expect they will pluck up their courage to make a rush now, Wilfrid," Mr. Atherton said. "If it had not been for these new arrivals I think they would have soon drawn off, for we must have diminished their numbers very considerably. Don't fire again for a bit; we had best keep our rifles loaded so as to be ready for them when they pluck up courage to charge. When they do, be sure you keep your revolver as a reserve for the critical moment."

Five minutes later a tremendous yell rose in the air. The natives leaped to their feet from behind the bushes, fired their guns at their hidden foes, and then, tomahawk in hand, rushed forward.

Three shots rang out almost simultaneously from the mouth of the defile and three of the natives dropped dead in their tracks. The rest rushed forward in a body. Mr. Atherton and the settler leapt to their feet, and the former opened fire with his Colt's revolver when the leading natives were within ten yards of him. His aim was as accurate as when directed against a mark stuck against a tree, and a man fell at each shot. But the natives' blood was thoroughly up now, and in spite of the slaughter they rushed forward. There was no room in the narrow defile for two men to swing their rifles, and Mr. Atherton and the settler stepped forward to meet the foe with their clubbed rifles in their hands. Two crashing blows were delivered with effect, but before the settler could again raise his weapon three Maoris were upon him. One tomahawk struck him in the shoulder and the rifle fell from his hands. Another raised his tomahawk to brain him, but fell with a bullet from Wilfrid's revolver through his chest; but the third native brought his weapon down with terrible force upon the settler's head, and he fell in a heap upon the ground. The tremendous strength of Mr. Atherton stood him in good stead now. The first blow he had dealt had smashed the stock of his rifle, but he whirled the iron barrel like a light twig round his head, dealing blows that broke down the defence of the natives as if their tomahawks had been straw, and beating them down as a flail would level a wheat stalk. Those in front of him recoiled from a strength which seemed to them superhuman, while whenever one tried to attack him in the rear Wilfrid's revolver came into play with fatal accuracy. At last, with a cry of terror, the surviving natives turned and retreated at the top of their speed.