Soldiering in New Zealand, Being Reminiscences of a Veteran

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SOLDIERING IN NEW ZEALAND

SOLDERING IN NEW ZEALAND BEING REMINISCENCES OF A VETERAN Major F. J. W. GASCOYNE WITH AN APPENDIX ENTITLED PURSUIT OF TE KOOTI THROUGH THE UREWERA COUNTRY Captain G. A. PREECE with illustrations LONDON T. J. S. Guilford & Co., Ltd. Ceres Road, Kingston 1916

To My Friend ROBERT DONALD DOUGLAS MACLEAN of MARAEKAKAHO, HAWKES BAY.

Hastings, January 1st, 1914.

To the Reader

Confinement to my room during a slow convalescence, following a severe illness, has enabled me to fulfil a promise to write my recollections of sixty years of a rather strenuous life.

On its literary side, I am well aware that my book falls very short of the requirements of the age. The reminiscences, however, include many incidents in the Maori wars which hitherto have not been recorded, and on that account I venture to hope that most New Zealanders will find them interesting.

Even those who are strangers to the land, which, before the coming of the white man, was known to the Maoris as “The Long White Cloud” may, I hope, find pleasure in reading these pages.

F.J.W.G.

List of Illustrations. Major F. J. W. Gascoyne 2 Capture of Kairomiromi 14 Sir Donald McLean 18 Major R. Biggs 23 Captain James Wilson 38 Major Charles Westrupp 44 Dr. Murray Gibbs 49 Renata Kawepo 53 Major Ropata 57 Rescue of a Comrade under fire 66 Plan of Ngata Pa 69 Sketch of Attack on Ngata 73 Colonel Lyon 92 Colonel Fraser 101 H.R.H. The Duke of Edinburgh 105 Te Whiti 111 Captain Wilson Hursthouse, C.E. 120 Lieut.-Col. J. M. Roberts 128 Waitangi, Chatham Islands 138 Mrs. Reihania Te Poki 142 Hon. John Bryce 150 Tapu and His Wife 158 Te Kooti 166 Captain St. George 174

Contents. Chapter I. Birth and parentage—Ferozeshah—Luhoogaut—Natural beauties—We leave India for New Zealand—My first duel—Paingatotara—Farm work—Maraekakaho—Gold digging—I become an officer in the Colonial Defence Force 3 Chapter II. Outbreak of hostilities in 1860—The Waikato campaign, 1863—Fighting on the East Cape in 1865—H.M.S. Eclipse—Waiapu—Capture of Kairomiromi—Two narrow escapes—Pukemaire taken and destroyed—Surrender of Hungahunga-te-roa—Mr. Donald McLean and the Hau-haus of Waerengaahika—Operations in the bush—Omaranui—Turiroa—Good service rewarded 10 Chapter III. The Armed Constabulary—Te Kooti lands at Poverty Bay—Major Biggs—I help to raise a force—We are attacked at Paparatu—Carrying a despatch to Wairoa—Rakiroa guides me—Paku Brown—Dr. Scott—Colonel Whitmore arrives—Westrupp's stand—Retreat from Paparatu—On Te Kooti's track—Bad weather at Waihau—Escape of Te Kooti—Colonel Whitmore's disgust—Trial of three volunteers 24 Chapter IV. Te Kooti vows vengeance—Out precautions against a raid—The old native's warning—Signs of danger—The Poverty Bay massacre—Murder of Major and Mrs. Biggs—Death of the Wilsons—Terror and confusion at Turanganui—Reinforcements arrive—Te Kooti pursued and defeated—Major Westrupp's friendlies—Fight with the Hau-haus—Attacked by fire—Dr. Murray Gibbs—Through the fire—We hold the ridge—Gallantry of Renata Kawepo—Te Kooti wounded—Ropata arrives—We attack the enemy and rout them—Tom Lake's wound 34 Chapter V. Major Ropata—First attack on Ngatapa—Strength of the enemy's position—Hotene—Panic of his men—Blackstock—Mohi—We abandon the attack—The New Zealand cross—I get promotion—Awaiting reinforcements—Second attack on Ngatapa delayed—A dangerous bit of scouting—Captain Newland—The raupo swamp—Rescue of Ateria—Shortt nearly kills me—Second attack on Ngatapa—The siege—Te Kooti escapes—£5 a head for captives. 58 Chapter VI. The Reverses on the West Coast—Te-Ngutu-o-te-Manu—Moturoa—Colonel McDonnell's Despatch 76 Chapter VII. Taurangaika—The fight in the peach orchard—March to Otantu—The Arawas break—Battle in the fog—We are severely handled—Crossing Te Ngaere swamp—Colonel Lyon—The enemy warned—Galatea—Opepe—Malata camp—“Aua”—I am placed under arrest—End of a farcical trial 88 Chapter VIII. Tauranga—Whakatane—Inspector Branigan—Attack on Porere—Captain St. George's death—Colonel Fraser—Hard travelling—Captain Mair—Visit of the Duke of Edinburgh—Rotorua—Taupo—My father's death—My marriage—Many military changes—Tarawera 98 Chapter IX. Te Whiti stirs up trouble—His influence with the natives—Parihaka—Maori superstitions—Murder of Miss Dobie—Strong measures—Dispersing the natives—Effects of Mr. Bryce's firmness—Discomforts of our camp—Opunake—Road to Rotorua—Alexandra—King Tawhio meets Mr. Bryce—Hursthouse and Newsham—Te Kooti saves Hursthouse's party—Mahuki's attack on Alexandra—We defeat it—Te Kooti thanked—Waikato—Serious illness 110 Chapter X. Opunake—Training artillery—Interview with Mr. Ballance—More trouble with Te Whiti—In command of the Field Artillery—Accident to my wife—Point Halswell—Visit of H.M.S. Nelson—Artillery Board—New Government—Retirement of Sir George Whitmore—Discharge of officers—Sheriff of Auckland—Arrest of Hinckley—Mr. Seddon—“Retrenched” 125 Chapter XI. Transfer to the Chatham Islands—My duties there—Waitangi—The lagoons—Fish, flesh and fowl—The Residency—Many pleasant neighbours—Trying climate—We build a church and reading room—Mr. Foster—The wool trips—Visit of H.M.S. Goldfinch—Icebergs sighted—Checking the liquor traffic—Heta and Paki—Visit of H.M.S. Ringdove—Boat building—Death of Mr. Ballance—“Honest John Bryce.” 136 Chapter XII. Visit of H.M.S. Lizard—Peace and goodwill—Wreck of the Jessie Readman—I build a yacht—Bridge over the Waitangi—The Institute—Visit of H.M.S. Rapid—Our regatta—Visit of the Governor, Lord Glasgow—A month in New Zealand—Severe hurricane—Our race meeting—Building the jetty—Constant illness compels me to esign my office—The Massey Government—Military pensions—Farewell 153 Appendix. Pursuit of Te Kooti through the Urewera country 167

Major F. J. W. Gascoyne. Black and white photograph of Major Gascoyne in uniform

The Reminiscences of a Veteran.

Chapter I.

Birth and parentage—Ferozeshah—Luhoogaut—Natural beauties—We leave India for New Zealand—My first duel—Paingatotara—Farm work—Maraekakaho—Gold digging—I become an officer in the Colonial Defence Force.

My name is Frederick John William Gascoyne. I was born at Cawnpore in 1837, my father being Major Charles Manners Gascoyne of the 5th Bengal Light Cavalry, whose uniform, I remember, was light blue and silver braid with scarlet cuffs and scarlet and white feathers. He served throughout the first and second Sutlej campaigns, and was present at the four battles of Moodkee, Aliwal, Sobraon, and Ferozeshah. My mother's maiden name was Campbell; she belonged to the family of Dunstaffnage, being first cousin to Sir John Campbell of Ardnamurchan.

One of my earliest recollections is that of hearing the thunder of the guns at the battle of Ferozeshah, and feeling the ground shaking with the shock of the concussions, while the women of the regiments engaged (including my mother) watched such transport as they had been able to collect in Ludiana. They waited in great anxiety for news from the battlefield, knowing that if the greatly out-numbered British army lost the battle, the only hope for the white women and children lay in being able to escape from the cantonments before the enemy's cavalry, bent on bloodshed and loot, reached them.

Conflicting reports of the progress of the battle were shouted by the excited natives, and many armed and mounted ruffians were galloping about trying to cause a general panic that would leave them free to plunder.

Our carriage was ready and the horses were held by the syces, when an armed man swaggered into the compound and ordered them to unharness the horses as they were “required by authority.” I was standing under the wide verandah, and of course understood the native language better than I did English. I had my Uncle Archie's sword (about two-thirds as long as myself) unsheathed in my hand, and holding it like a bayonet at the charge, rushed at the badmash. He jumped aside to avoid my thrust; but as I at once began to slash viciously at his naked legs, he bolted back to the gate of the compound, yelling threats and abuse in the vernacular.

Meanwhile my mother and sisters, our governess and a couple of ayahs, sat much frightened in a room with such variables as they could carry in their hands, ready for instant flight. At length, as night was falling, reliable news came that the remnant of the Sikh army had re-crossed the Sutlej, and a troop of our cavalry had arrived to take charge of the cantonment.

I date my determination to be a soldier this incident. When some years afterwards, on our journey down the Ganges, en route for New Zealand, Mr. McNaughton offered me a commission in the cavalry, and my father urged me to refuse it (as he wanted me to be a farmer with him in the colony which he had chosen as his future home), I was much disappointed. It took all the charm of a new country and new hopes to reconcile me to the change of career.

About the year 1850 we left Meerut on long furlough, and settled at a hill station in the Kumaon district named Luhooghaut. We spent three years there among the foothills of the Himalayas, where my father was half inclined to start a tea plantation, as the district was suitable for the industry. Here we had a charming home and a perfect climate, and I had the joy of owning my first gun and of shooting at a bear, under the wing of Captain John Lockett, a great shikarri, who had started a tea plantation at Raikot.

My recollections of Lohooghaut include many pleasant and exciting incidents. Once a big tiger paid us a call and left his spoor all over the garden. On another occasion I saw a python sneaking across the garden and the alarmed servants killed it. I remember also a severe earthquake that cracked one side of our house. One day two of our kitmagars quarrelled. One, snatching a tulwar hanging on the wall of their room, struck a blow at the other, who, throwing up his arms in defence, received the cut on his wrists and had the flesh of both forearms sliced clean from wrist to elbow. Hearing an outcry, I ran towards the servants' quarters and met the wounded man coming for help. He had about ten inches of blood-spouting flesh hanging from each elbow. Fortunately a doctor was available, who patched up Panchkauri so successfully that in three months he could use his arms fairly well for such work as washing plates and helping the cook.

On several occasions my father had to doctor villagers badly wounded by a bear or a leopard; and once our letter carrier was killed by a tiger when bringing the mail from Petoraghur.

Our surroundings here were very beautiful. Oak and rhododendron forest covered the upper parts of the hills, and when in blossom the bright scarlet of the rhododendrons was well set off by the green of the oaks. In the valleys the tall and graceful deodar was the chief timber tree. Wild violets, of a lighter blue than the garden sort, were plentiful; and so were bushes bearing very large yellow raspberries. While on the subject of the beauties of Luhooghaut, I must mention our long avenue of apricot trees, the trunks of which averaged from 15 to 18 inches in diameter. The fruit of these, though not so large as those of some of the orchard varieties, was well flavoured and of a deep yellow when ripe. When the yearly crop dropped off the trees, the ground was covered three or four inches deep with the fallen fruit. We had also an avenue of horse-chestnuts which was a beautiful sight when the trees, covered with big sprays of pink and white blossoms, were in flower.

About 1852 my father decided to go to New Zealand, and on our ponies and in dhandies we marched to the foot of the hills, and from there the elephants of the Commissioner Sahib took us to Allahabad. There we boarded budgerows for the long voyage down the Ganges to Calcutta, and eventually took passage on the Marlborough, Captain Young, a sailing ship of 1,600 tons, bound for Melbourne. She had a crew of about a hundred lascars, but with the exception of the native tindals, the petty officers and midshipmen were Europeans.

On the voyage I successfully fought my first duel. My antagonist was a midshipman named Quirll; our weapons were two of the captain's swords that had been taken forward to be cleaned. The condition was that the first man wounded should be declared vanquished. Some of the troopers of our regiment had given me lessons in swordsmanship, and I was easily able to lock my opponent's blade and slightly wound his sword-hand. We managed to keep the affair secret, only the sailmaker and two of the other middies being witnesses of the encounter.

We reached Williamstown, the port of Melbourne, in the height of the gold fever, and the diggings seemed to be the only topic of interest. Here my father was fortunate in meeting Mr. John Tinline from New Zealand, who was about to return to Nelson by the barque Belle Creole of 300 tons. She was sailing in three weeks, and by Mr. Tinline's advice we secured passages in her to Nelson, where we landed. We then crossed Blind Bay to Motueka, and lived for six months in a house at Moutere that belonged to a Mr. Dashwood, awaiting the completion of a dwelling on a very pretty property, known as the Paingatotara valley, on the right bank of the Motueka River, which my father had purchased.

From the time we took possession of our new home I had plenty of hard work in assisting to fence, plough and crop the land. I became fairly expert at farm work in a couple of years; learning to milk cows, drive a bullock team, split and erect fencing, to reap, thresh, sow and mow, and use an axe. My brother Charles helped me as much as his strength would allow. He was only eight years of age when we started farm life, but at twelve he could do as much work as an average man, and was particularly expert with an axe.

About 1855 we experienced the most severe earthquake that I can ever remember. It pushed up the town of Wellington eight or nine feet above the then level, and caused much damage to buildings and some loss of life.

Shortly after this earthquake I left home to find my way to Hawkes Bay in the North Island, where the late Sir Donald McLean had a sheep run. Sir Donald was a cousin of my mother's, and I wished to be employed on the run as a cadet in order to learn something about sheep-farming. I crossed the strait to Wellington and stayed for a week or ten days with Mr. Strang (Sir Donald's father-in-law), and then decided to walk up the east coast to Hawkes Bay, a distance of over two hundred miles. The journey took me a fortnight, as I was compelled to rest for two or three days at Akatio, much walking on soft sand along the beach having blistered my feet. I had to sleep out twice on the track because it was necessary to wait for low tide to cross some of the rivers; but I usually reached an out-station or a shepherd's whare before dark, and was always welcome to a meal and the loan of an empty wool-pack to spread on the earthen floor by way of bed, with my plaid and small swag for pillow and covering.

When I reached Clive I met Mr. Alec McLean, Sir Donald's brother and the manager of his station, who lent me a horse and rode up to Maraekakaho with me. We became great friends and I worked on the station for three years, breaking in horses and draught bullocks, ploughing and shearing, carting wool and fencing timber, until a change in the management made me want a holiday, and I returned to Nelson to spend nine months in a saw-mill belonging to my brother-in-law, John Greenwood.

From there I went to the Wairau to assist Jim Hodson to drive a huge mob of cattle down to the Otago district, a job that occupied several months and made me acquainted with a considerable portion of the east side of the Middle Island, including some of the Lake country.

Then, with my cousin, Fred Gascoyne, I put in a couple of years gold digging about Collingwood and the Upper Motueka River. The work was hard and usually very wet, and though we got some gold, it was not enough to pay for the hard work and incidental exposure. On a stormy night of the midwinter of 1863, just after a heavy flood in the Baton River had destroyed our dam and swept away most of our sluice boxes, together with all the gold of six days' sluicing in them, Fred and I were discussing our bad luck, when a neighbouring digger called in to hand me an official letter, offering me a lieutenant's commission in the newly-raised Colonial Defence Force.

In consideration of the discouraging state of our gold-digging interests, I decided to accept the commission, and to report myself as soon as possible at the squadron's headquarters in Hawkes Bay. Fred at the same time made up his mind to join the recently raised 3rd Regiment of Waikato Militia, in which he was offered an ensigncy.

Chapter II.

Outbreak of hostilities in 1860—The Waikato campaign, 1863—Fighting at the East Cape in 1865—H.M.S. Eclipse—Waiapu—Capture of Kairomiromi—Two narrow escapes—Pukemaire taken and destroyed—Surrender of Hungahunga-te-roa—Mr. Donald McLean and the Hau-haus of Waerengaahika—Operations in the bush—Omaranui—Turiroa—Good service rewarded.

Fighting between the Maoris and the Europeans broke out at Waireka in the Taranaki district of the North Island about the end of 1860, and continued for twelve months or more in the vicinity of New Plymouth. In these operations detachments of the 57th and 40th regiments were engaged, assisted by the local settlers and militia and parties of bluejackets. Then the Waikato tribes began fighting, and in 1863 General Cameron opened the Waikato campaign and gradually drove them back to Orakau, after which the troops were recalled and distributed to garrison the weak points of settlement.

About this time the government of New Zealand decided on using the militia, the forest rangers and the defence forces to put down the rebellion without the assistance of regular troops. My squadron of the C.D.F. was camped at Peka-peka for the defence of Napier, and our time was spent in constant drills. Our commandant was Major Whitmore; the other officers were Captains La Serre and Anderson, and Lieutenants St. George, Gascoyne and Hudson. With us was brigaded a company of military settlers who had been embodies and were then encamped at Puketapu.

In the middle of 1865 hostilities broke out at the East Cape between the loyal and the rebel Maoris, and about 120 militia and volunteers were hurriedly embarked to reinforce the friendly tribes. I was detailed for this service and had a big job single-handed to get the men, baggage and stores on board H.M.S. Eclipse, which landed us at Te Awanui two hours after dark on the following night, 5th July, 1865. The sea being rough we had to creep through a crack in the reef to reach the beach, so that we were very fortunate to get ashore without a mishap. Then we had to fall in by touch, as the order was “strict silence and no striking of matches or smoking.” It was not known if the enemy was aware of our landing, and as we had to march along three or more miles of narrow beach at the foot of a black cliff, a sudden volley out of the darkness would have been disconcerting to a lot of raw men jammed between the foot of the cliff and the sea.

A little after midnight we reached the mouth of the Waiapu River and could see the lights of Hatepe, the stronghold of our friendly natives across the river; but we could only find two small canoes, carrying three passengers each, to ferry us across. I waited to see the last of our party off before I could cross, and was very glad to get into a warm whare in the pa, and find food and tea provided for us.

Evidently the enemy did not know that we had landed until it was too late to attack us; they could easily have trapped us when we were waiting on the shelterless strip of land at the river mouth. Next morning, 6th July, they opened fire on our front and our right flank, but we were almost out of range of their fire, and they did not do us much damage. They wounded one of our Maoris, however, and killed a horse that was tied outside our pallisade; but when we turned out to attack them, they cleared off, and we only got a few long shots at them before we were recalled.

Meanwhile the Eclipse stood in and sent off a boat, and we went to cover their landing on the beach about a mile from the pa. The officer who came ashore arranged with our commanding officer, Captain James Fraser, late of the 73rd Highlanders, that the ship would fire shell at the nearest of the enemy's huts, and at any parties firing on us; we were to signal directions and elevation for the ship's fire, for we should be in the line of most of the shells.

This signalling fell to me, and I climbed into a high look-out platform inside our lines and signalled from there, as I could easily see where the shells burst; but two of the shells exploded just beyond us, and so alarmed our natives that we had to signal “cease fire” to the ship.

On 18th July we heard a great shouting from the direction of the enemy, and could see from the look-out a number of them advancing to attack us. Ensign Arthur Tuke and I took our men out to meet them in skirmishing formation, and were soon warmly engaged. We pressed them slowly back through patches of scrub scattered over old cultivations. I had a narrow escape while signalling the right of our line to move forward. I was leaning against the remains of an old fence, when a bullet struck and glanced off the stake against which I was leaning, hitting it just opposite the buckle of my waist belt.

This was our first experience of a fight carried out strictly in accordance with drill-book instructions, and it was very noticeable that the enemy were much better at taking cover and acting in concert than we were. On the other hand they seemed to be very bad marks-men. We had only two casualties, but the enemy lost seven killed, although I did not know of this till later, for they retired as we advanced. We were recalled by bugle before we got near their strong-hold, our C.O. fearing a trap.

On 2nd August we marched in two parties by different routes to make a surprise attack on their pa, Kairomiromi, timing the assault for

Taking Pahairomiromi at Waipu East Cape. daylight. Guided by the friendlies we felt our way in single file in thick darkness until after some hours we reached our point by a circuitous path. Lieutenant R. Biggs and Ensign A. Tuke were in charge of the left attacking column, and Major Fraser and I of the right. Just as day was breaking we reached the end of a low ridge overlooking the rear of Kairomiromi. Only a shallow stream and about 100 yards of open flat on the farther bank separated us from the enemy.

I led the men across, formed them up behind a large shed which stood on the bank, and passed the word to fix bayonets. Immediately Fraser, who wished to attack before the left column could get up shouted “Charge!” and ran for what looked to be an opening in the stockade. I went straight for the wall in front of me, intending to clamber over. Our men divided and followed us closely.

Many of the enemy must have been sleeping in the rifle pits, for quick as we were in our rush, they fired a volley before we reached the fence, and I had my clothes torn by bullets in two places while getting over. However, I slung myself into the pa, and firing my revolver at the nearest of the defenders, rushed forward, followed by several of our men, to join the party under Fraser, who were fighting by the entrance gate and were hard pressed. Then Biggs' men got in on our right, and the Maoris broke. Private Blackstock, who was fighting close to me, just then threw his rifle like a harpoon at a big Maori running to escape. The bayonet went in between the man's shoulder blades, and, catching in his ribs, supported the rifle which stuck out horizontally from his back, until Blackstock recovered his weapon. In this fight we killed 25 of the enemy, wounded many and took about 30 prisoners. We had eight wounded, some dangerously.

Captain Fraser, who had emptied his revolver in the attack, had a narrow escape. His life was saved by Private Welfitt, who followed him through the opening in the wall and saw a Maori in the act of striking at Fraser with a long-handled tomahawk. Welfitt drove his bayonet into the Maori, who, changing his aim, struck his assailant over the forehead and cut a piece out of his skull, exposing the brain. Welfitt eventually recovered, but he was crippled for life and retired with a pension.

I at once went in pursuit of those who escaped out of the pa, and in doing so came on a fine young Maori, who threw up his hands in token of surrender. I placed my arm across his breast to protect him from my men, but unfortunately two who were following me closely thought that I was wrestling with him, and one of them thrust his rifle under my arm and killed my prisoner. Just then our bugles sounded the “retire” and “assembly,” and we had to stop the pursuit.

Shortly after taking and burning Kairomiromi, we reconnoitred a fighting pa built by the Hau Haus at the end of a long, low hill named Pukemaire. The place was voted too strong to attack without more men, and on 1st October H.M.S. Brisk landed a party of 45 forest rangers under the command of Captain Westrupp and Lieutenant Ross; Thus reinforced we marched on the 3rd to attack Pukemaire at daylight. Unfortunately it rained hard all day; our attack was unsuccessful, and we had to return to Hatepe that night, having two killed and several wounded to carry back with us.

After this the rain and bad weather kept us idle for several days, but during the night of the 8th Captain Westrupp led an advance party to take up a position in the rear of the enemy. The rest of us marched at dawn on the 9th to attack their front, only to discover that the enemy had retreated to another very strongly fortified position named Hungahunga-te-roa, about 20 miles from Waiapu. We burned Pukemaire, and on the 11th reached the new stronghold, which we

Sir Donald McLean. took by climbing to an almost inaccessible point that commanded the interior, thus forcing a surrender. We found 20 killed, many wounded, and took 500 prisoners, but sixty Taranaki warriors escaped by breaking the palisading and sliding down a cliff on the bush side of the pa.

The capture of Hungahunga-te-roa and of the majority of the rebel Ngatiporou, and the seizure of about six hundred firearms, completely settled matters at the East Cape. The prisoners were made to take an oath of allegiance to the Queen and to salute the Union Jack, and were allowed liberty on parole under the general supervision of the chief Mokana (Morgan) and of the resident magistrate, Mr. Campbell, and a guard of thirty military settlers.

On 8th November the rest of our force left Waiapu in the Government steamer Sturt, and were landed at Gisborne for the protection of the Poverty Bay settlers, for the Hau-haus in that district had built a strong pa at Waerengaahika and declared war. On the 9th H.M.S. Esk landed 250 of the loyal Ngatiporou natives at Gisborne, together with his Honour the Superintendent, Mr. (afterwards Sir) Donald McLean, who on the following day sent an ultimatum to the Hau-haus demanding their submission and the delivery of their arms within eight days.

No reply having been received from the enemy by the appointed day, Major Fraser, with a combined force of 600 English and loyal natives, attacked Waerengaahika. Fighting continued day and night until the 22nd, when the enemy after severe loss surrendered. The other forts were then evacuated and all the Hau-hau strongholds were destroyed.

On 1st December the Sturt embarked our whole force under Major Fraser (excepting the loyal natives who were left in charge at Turanganui) and steamed for Wairoa; and on the 9th Mr. McLean, who had come from Poverty Bay in the Sturt, left for Napier after placing the district in the charge of Major Fraser.

On the morning of Christmas Day, Fraser, with 200 whites and Maoris, took the pa at Mangaruke, near Waikaremoana. Captain Hussey, of the military settlers, was killed in that assault.

For the first eight or nine months of 1866 the East Coast contingent continued to patrol the country between Poverty Bay, Hawkes Bay and Taupo, having occasional fights with small bodies of rebels. There was little loss on either side, as the rebels preferred operating in small parties scattered through difficult country to building fortified positions which could be attacked in force. Every now and then a batch of a dozen or two prisoners was taken by our men, and such of them as refused to take the oath of allegiance were deported to the Chatham Islands.

Meanwhile much fighting occurred under Colonel Thomas Macdonnell and other leaders throughout the bush country between the Wanganui River and Mount Egmont, with considerable loss of life on both sides, although, according to the reports of the various actions and skirmishes, the rebels lost more men than we did.

Early in October 70 Hau-haus, under chief Panapa, came to Petane, eleven miles from Napier, and from there took possession of the pa at Omaranui, near Puketapu, and only about six miles from Napier. Reports also came in that more rebels were on the march from Taupo and Upper Wairoa to assist the party at Omaranui. Donald McLean called out all the Hawkes Bay militia, and sent orders for Major Fraser to bring forty military settlers and thirty of the men of Kopu and Thaka te Whanga from Wairoa with all speed. These reached Napier on the 11th by the steamship Star of the South, and on the 12th marched out to Petane to intercept the rebel reinforcements coming down the river, now called the Esk. This operation was successfully carried out, the Hau-haus being met and driven back with a loss of eleven killed, five prisoners, and many wounded. Our loss was one wounded.

On the same morning the militia, under Lieut.-Colonel Whitmore, surrounded Omaranui. Panapa was summoned to surrender within an hour, but he refused to answer and evidently was prepared to fight. After waiting two hours for a reply, orders were given to attack his fortress, which made a vigorous defence for an hour and a half, when a white flag was hoisted in token of surrender. Panapa had been killed with twenty of his men, and as many more wounded. Our loss was two killed and nine wounded.

It is certain that Mr. McLean's prompt and decided action prevented a great disaster. Any hesitation on his part would have been the signal for numbers of local and more distant natives to reinforce Panapa, who in that case would have been strong enough, in the absence of trained men other than Fraser's handful of forty, easily to destroy Napier and massacre all who could not escape by sea.

At this time I was stationed at Awanui, near Waiapu, with a guard of thirty men for the protection of Mr. Campbell, the resident magistrate, and as a check on the behaviour of the many Hau-haus whom we had lately disarmed in that district. I was recalled by the end of the year, and rejoined my company of military settlers at Wairoa. We were in camp at Turiroa for nearly nine months until the company was disbanded, when each of the men received the 50 acres of land which had been promised to them when they enrolled for three years.

Chapter III.

The Armed Constabulary—Te Kooti lands at Poverty Bay—Major Biggs—I help to raise a force—We are attacked at Paparatu—Carrying a despatch to Wairoa—Rakiroa guides me—Paku Brown—Dr. Scott—Colonel Whitmore arrives—Westrupp's stand—Retreat from Paparatu—On Te Kooti's track—Bad weather at Waihau—Escape of Te Kooti—Colonel Whitmore's disgust—Trial of three volunteers.

The Government now raised a force of about 600 armed constabulary, under officers who were called “Inspectors,” with the relative rank of major, and “Sub-Inspectors,” ranking as captain. Nearly all my late comrades, many of them junior to me in rank and length of service, were gazetted to the new force, but owing to the private animosity of two men of influence and position, my name was omitted from the new appointments, so that for several months I was unattached. Thus it happened that I was “at a loose end” when, early in the winter of 1867, Te Kooti, having overpowered the weak guard and seized all the arms and ammunition he could find, broke away from the Chatham Islands with nearly 200 followers, and forced the master of the Rifleman to land his people at Whareonaunga, near Nicks Head on Poverty Bay.

On hearing this news I immediately reported myself to Major Biggs, commanding the district, who accepted my offer to help him to assemble a force of civilian settlers and a few friendly natives, in the hope of retaking the escaped prisoners from the Chathams. We could only muster about 30 settlers and about 40 Maoris: quite half of the last were of doubtful value, for many of the Poverty Bay natives were disloyal at heart. We reconnoitred Te Kooti's camp, and some of our

Major R. Biggs. natives who went among them, shaking hands and rubbing noses, reported that they were well armed with government rifles, and did not intend to fight unles they were interfered with.

After a council of war, in which Biggs pointed out our weakness in number and the evident sympathy of many of the Bay natives with the enemy, our commander determined to take up a position at Paparatu, at a point that Te Kooti would have to pass on his way inland to reach the safety of the Uriwera country. Meanwhile he sent to Wairoa and Napier for all available help.

I had just ridden into camp with pack-horses laden with provisions, and, dismounting, went to report myself to Major Biggs, who was speaking to a group of officers and men of the assembled volunteers and natives. I heard him say, “I will pay £30 to anyone who will carry a despatch for me to Wairoa,” and, turning to the natives, he repeated the offer in Maori. No one seemed willing to go, as a messenger would run the gauntlet of Te Kooti's men hunting for horses and wild pigs along the track, so I said, “I will take your despatch, Major, if you will lend me a fresh horse, and of course I don't want a money reward.” Biggs looked round and said, “You can have my horse,” and added in a lower voice, “I did not like to ask you to do this, as you have been pretty hard at it already.”

Within half an hour I was mounted and off and started to take a short cut over the hills. There was no track, but I depended on my knowledge of the country. I had ridden about five or six miles, when I found that my horse was badly griped. It was plain that he could not do the journey of about sixty miles in that state, but I did not like to return lest it should be thought that I had funked the job. I knew, too, that it was not likely that I could get another horse in camp that would be any good to me. Accordingly I decided to go back to an out-station of Westrupp's at Te Arai and turn Biggs' horse out there, get-a pony of my own from the station paddock and on him fetch a horse that I knew of at Makaraka, owned by a Maori there.

I reached the out-station at sundown, got my pony without being seen, and galloped into Makaraka. It was midnight before I got the horse I wanted, and then I had to promise to give the owner £3 for the loan of him for three days.

However, I got away at last and rode as fast as the darkness would allow, though I had to save my horse in case I was chased. Early in the morning I was twenty miles on the journey, when through the frosty air I heard the sound of firing in the direction of Paparatu, and knew that the enemy had attacked our fellows. In the excitement of the moment I turned to gallop back to help. Then I remembered that I was on special duty and had to get the despatch to Wairoa as soon as possible. It was clear, too, that the fight would be over before I could get back, and that it might help my chance to pass the worst bit of the road. I pushed on, therefore, and reached the bush near Whenuakura a little before dark. There in an open spot in manuka I left my horse and saddle (for the bush track was impassable for a horse in the dark), and soon found that it would take me all night to find the way on foot. I struggled on, however, until I got opposite the native kainga across the river at Whenuakura. The glare of a fire some distance from the river told me that there were natives there, but whether they were friendly or not there was nothing to tell.

I had come to the conclusion that without the help of a guide it was impossible for me to get through the bush before morning, and I might break my neck or leg in trying; so I determined to risk a “coo-ee,” which was answered from the kainga. Soon I could see someone carrying a fire-stick coming down to the river. I drew my revolver and crept down to the waterside to wait for the canoe. When it got close to me I saw by the light of the fire-stick that it was the chief, Rakiroa himself, who was acting as ferryman. Now I did not intend to let him go back and tell his people that a pakeha was by himself astray in the bush, for, knowing them to be Hau-haus, I did not trust their goodwill; so I drew back under cover. When he called out to know where I was and why I did not come down to the canoe, I replied I was afraid to move in the dark and that he must show the way down the bank. The old fellow growled a little and came up the bank with his torch. I then told him that he must take me through the bush. Of course he refused, saying that I must wait till morning; that he would send a man to take me through; that he would have to make several torches (rama-rama) before he could do it. However, I told him plainly that I was obliged to go on at once; that I would not let him go back or call anyone; that there was plenty of dry stuff for torches where we were standing; and that I would pay him well for helping me to find the road. Seeing that I was armed and determined he consented at last to show me the way as far as the end of the first bit of bush.

That was all that I wanted. After that the country was more open and I should be able to get along by myself; so we tied up a couple of manuka torches and started. It was bad travelling, even with the aid of the torches, but at last we got through, and I told the old man that I would bring him anything he liked on my return from Wairoa next day. He looked rather glum at not being paid on the spot, but as I had no money with me he had to put up with it. He asked me to bring him a sheath knife, pipes, tobacco and matches, all of which I promised he should have, and I duly kept my word, to his great delight. It only remains to add that the day after I gave him these articles he and his people joined Te Kooti and fought against us throughout the war.

After parting with Rakiroa, I ran and walked up and down hill till I reached the Waipouiti river about daylight, ten miles from Wairoa. There I caught a horse, and crossing the river found myself in the camp of a party of volunteers under Captain William Richardson, who were on a scouting expedition to the Waihau. I got some breakfast in camp, and then found that the horse I had commandeered belonged to D. Scott who was with the party. He very kindly let me have it and a saddle to go to my destination and back. I reached Wairoa and delivered my despatch by nine o'clock a.m., having then been riding and walking for more than forty hours from the time I left Biggs' camp, and without food till I fell in with Richardson's party.

After three hours' rest and telling the news to eager inquirers, I started back. Having settled up with old Rakiroa and recovered my horse, I spent the night with Richardson's party, whom I overtook at the Waihau. Next day I returned to Poverty Bay in company with Dr. Scott who left Richardson to come with me, though I warned him of the risk he would run. We rode rapidly across the open country by the Waihau lakes, for I was afraid of Te Kooti's scouts. It was fortunate that we lost no time in getting down into the bush by the river, for what happened afterwards suggested that we had been seen, and that an attempt was made to head us off before we got to the river. As we were going down the bank we met Paku Brown, a half-caste, who was carrying a second despatch for the officer commanding at the Wairoa. I just stopped to order him to hurry across the Waihau flats and reach the protection of the ridge on the far side where he would find Richardson's party, and then pushed on. A few days after poor Brown's badly-hacked body was found on the track a very short distance from the spot where we parted from him.

Dr. Scott and I kept going till we reached the high ground sloping down to Patutahi in Poverty Bay, when hearing a whistle we pulled up and drew our revolvers. We returned them when we saw that it was Lieutenant James Wilson. He had ridden out with Paku Brown, but had been taken ill and had been lying in the scrub near the road where we met him. His horse was tied up in the scrub and he mounted and came on with me, and told me what had occurred at Paparatu.

The same day that I left, Colonel Whitmore arrived at Turanganui with Major Fraser and No. 1 division of the armed constabulary. Instead of sending them forward at once to reinforce Biggs' small force of untrained men, Whitmore summoned Biggs to meet him at Turanganui. Biggs left the camp at Paparatu in charge of Captain Westrupp and Lieutenant Wilson. Westrupp took charge of the picket at the head of the spur by which Te Kooti would have to ascend if he left his camp near the beach at Whareanaunga; Wilson with the rest of our settlers and Maoris camped in the little valley in rear of the picket to act as support.

At daylight on the day after Biggs left, Te Kooti attacked in force. Though Westrupp made a stubborn stand, his picket, with three men killed and several wounded, was driven back on the support, of which the Maori portion immediately bolted. The English, cumbered with the wounded, had to retire before the superior numbers of the enemy; but the enemy did not follow them up, and they were fortunate in being able to retreat without severe loss.

On my return from Wairoa I found Whitmore encamped in Te Arai valley with a few local volunteers; No. 1 division of the constabulary had been ordered to proceed to the place along the road to Wairoa, where I had parted from poor Paku Brown.

Whitmore at once sent me with Henare Kakapungo and another native to pick up Te Kooti's trail at Paparatu and locate his where-abouts, as he intended to follow in pursuit of him next morning. We easily found the trail, and at dusk that evening got close to the enemy's camp. We had left our horses hidden about two miles back, and crawled on through high fern till we could hear the voices of the Hau-haus sounding close to us just over a low ridge. We dropped into a small overgrown gully eight or ten feet deep. In doing this I had the bad luck to strain my left knee so severely that I fainted from the pain. When I came to I heard my companions say that I was dying, and that they had better hide my body and get away. I told them that my leg was badly hurt, but that if we kept quiet till midnight they could help me to reach the horses and get away all right. They were good comrades and agreed to stick to me; but my knee was injured for life, and though by keeping it bandaged I could soon walk without limping, I was never able to run fast, jump, dance, or play cricket again.

We reached our horses before daylight, and in the early morning met the head of Whitmore's column on the march. I reported and pointed out the hills behind which Te Kooti had camped the previous evening, and turned away intending to ride to Turanganui to see a doctor; but Colonel Whitmore ordered me to ride with him. When I explained about my knee he said that he must have my services as guide, and that I could be carried on a stretcher. I preferred, however, to trust my good little horse Ngakahi (The Snake) to carry me over or through anything.

The column camped that evening on the side of a bush-covered hill above the Waihau flats, as heavy snow began to fall. Next morning it was still snowing fast, and I was ordered to take two of the mounted constabulary and return to Turanganui to hurry up a supply of biscuits and bacon to meet the column at Whenuakura. I mounted and waited on the top of the hill for the orderlies to join. At last one of them came to tell me that one of the horses was lost, and it was absurd to expect men to travel without a track through such weather. I told them that I was going on and they could follow my horse's tracks if they liked, but I would not wait for anyone. I gave my pony his head and he took me straight back, although the track made by the column on the previous day was obliterated by the snow, except where growth of fern or manuka was unusually high.

Meanwhile Te Kooti pushed on and got his people into the Ruakaturi gorge beyond the Hungaroa river. I thought Fraser's division of constabulary would have stopped him there, but possibly he had orders to wait for Whitmore's column to join him. Te Kooti must have crossed the Hungaroa in the night of the snowstorm, passing between Richardson's Wairoa party on his left and Fraser's division on his right flank. In any case, the policy of allowing him to cross the river without opposition, when there were two separate parties of men more or less between him and his objective, seems to me to be without excuse, and the attempt to overtake him from his rear without arranging to delay his retreat, showed great want of judgment.

To return to my own job. I reached Turanganui early in the evening, and after a meal set to work loading four pack horses with provisions. Next morning at dawn, after a busy night, I started for the front with a man to help me. We travelled fast, and at about 4 p.m. reached the mouth of the Ruakaturi valley, where we met Whitmore's force retiring. They had lost Captains Carr and Davis Canning killed, and were hampered with the carriage of several badly wounded men.

The weather was cold and wet, and the men were so fatigued and hungry that I had to call on the non-commissioned officers to prevent them from rushing the pack horses. A short halt was called; provisions were served out, and the retirement continued through the rain to Whenuakura. It was dark long before we got down to the kainga, and if I had not led Colonel Whitmore and his staff all the way they would have been obliged to camp in the rain. We passed many small parties of our men lying on the track quite exhausted. Several times we stopped while they got dry fern-tree fronds out of the bush on the hillside and made fires to warm themselves. It was quite safe to do this, for there was no chance of the enemy following them up on such a night when quite eight miles from the locality of the engagement. I was tired, too, when we reached the huts at Whenuakura, as I had been on the march and working for 36 hours without a break.

The next morning a parade of all forces was held, and Colonel Whitmore addressed the officers and men. The wounded, including Captain A. Tuke, shot through the shoulder, had started earlier for the Wairoa. His harangue expressed his disgust at not having captured Te Kooti's force. He attributed his failure to do so to want of loyalty and energy of all grades, blaming particularly the Poverty Bay settlers and volunteers, who, being much offended at his accusation of cowardice at Paparatu, had refused to march beyond the Hungaroa river, the boundary of the district within which they were liable for military service. The colonel finished by pointing to me and saying, “This is the only man who has not failed me since I came into the district.”

Major Fraser, with No. 1 division and the Wairoa men, then marched for Wairoa, and the Gisborne volunteers took the direct track to Poverty Bay. Colonel Whitmore with two orderlies and myself returned across the Waihau, heading for the Arai valley; and as it was late in the afternoon before we started, we had to camp in the scrub that night. The colonel seemed afraid lest we should be followed up by some of Te Kooti's men, and the rush of a startled wild pig close to us in the middle of the night made him so nervous that we had to put out our fire and keep on the watch till it was light enough to proceed on our way. When we reached Westrupp's house on the Big River, Whitmore borrowed my pony, to which he had taken a great fancy, and rode on with the orderlies into Gisborne. He returned in a few days and left in the Sturt for Wellington.

Here I must mention a curious episode that occurred immediately after the unfortunate affair at Paparatu. Three of the Poverty Bay volunteers, a man called Donnybrook and two others, were charged with cowardice in having retreated before the enemy, and after trial by drumhead court-martial, were condemned to be shot. Their graves were dug; their eyes were bandaged, and then they were reprieved and discharged “with ignominy.” I was absent on despatch duty when this occurred, so I set down what is perhaps only a camp tale of this farcical affair, but I never heard it contradicted.

Chapter IV.

Te Kooti vows vengeance—Our precautions against a raid—The old native's warning—Signs of danger—The Poverty Bay massacre—Murder of Major and Mrs. Biggs—Death of the Wilsons—Terror and confusion at Turanganui—Reinforcements arrive—Te Kooti pursued and defeated—Major Westrupp's friendlies—Fight with the Hau-haus—Attacked by fire—Dr. Murray Gibbs—Through the fire—We hold the ridge—Gallantry of Renata Kawepo—Te Kooti wounded—Ropata arrives—We attack the enemy and rout them—Tom Lake's wound.

Shortly after the escape of Te Kooti, it became known that he was threatening to exact a bloody revenge from the Poverty Bay settlers who had fought against him. It was decided, therefore, to keep nine men on duty as scouts, to watch for the approach of armed natives along the tracks from the Urewera country. I was placed in charge of these men under the authority of Major Biggs, commanding the district, my pay being that of my rank as lieutenant in the militia.

With the concurrence of Major Biggs, I fixed my chief camp about twenty miles from Gisborne, where the main track to Wairoa descends to the Hungaroa stream. Thick patches of manuka and korimiko surrounding half an acre of grass formed a convenient place of concealment for our horses at night. We did not use a tent, as we preferred the shelter of the thick scrub and plenty of blankets and waterproof sheets. Six men were on guard every night, two being posted at the head of the gully leading down to the river, and I always kept awake from midnight till daylight. We kept our horses saddled all night, and lay or sat fully dressed and armed. In the daytime I kept a look-out with binoculars on the top of a hill rising at the rear of our position, from which a very extended view could be obtained, and often saw the smoke of fires in the Urewera country, indicating a camp or cultivation of the rebels. Daily I sent a patrol out to our left front, and often rode right or ten miles to my right, looking for some sign of movement on the part of the enemy, and reporting frequently to Major Biggs.

This went on for some months, and then a very old native whom I met told me that, in his opinion, if Te Kooti made a raid on the Bay, he would use a very ancient track a long way to the right of our post. On the following day I took two of my men, and after careful search we found a deeply-worn track heavily overgrown with big manuka in a valley some eight or ten miles to our right, and leading towards a saddle overlooking a stream called Manga-Karetu. On the track we found no sign of anything but wild pigs; but from the top of the hill I noted smoke ascending out of timber over six miles away, which my Maori companion thought was probably a fire lighted by pig hunters, as he knew of no settlement in that direction.

On my way back to camp I left my two comrades and rode in to Makaraka at dusk, and reported to Major Biggs what I had seen. I asked his leave to keep three of my men watching the valley where we found the old overgrown track; but Biggs did not approve of my proposal, and told me he knew that Te Kooti was restless, and that he was kept well informed by spies of the rebel's doings. He believed that Te Kooti would advance shortly, but he felt sure that he would use the track that I was watching, and would try to surprise us by the sudden attack of an advance guard. “As long,” he added, “as one or two of you get away and give me the alarm you will have served the purpose for which you are placed there. Now get right back to your post, and be sure not to leave it yourself till you hear from me. Keep a sharp watch every night and scout toward Wairoa daily. If you see armed men or are fired at, all of you are to gallop in at once and give the alarm by scattering your scouts; but come yourself to me as quickly as possible.”

Those were, in as nearly as possible his own words, the last instructions that I received from Major Biggs. He was killed about 48 hours later.

I now come to the sad episode of the Poverty Bay massacre, which I will narrate in the words of the notes that I wrote while the affair was fresh in my memory.

“Late in the evening of 9th June, 1868, a band of Hau-haus entered Poverty Bay district by a long unused and little known track from the Urewera country that came out near Patutahi. It was the only point that the care and foresight of Major Biggs had left unguarded. The officer in charge of the small party of scouts (Lieut. Gascoyne) had in vain requested leave to place a couple of men to watch this track, but the men could not well be spared; the track was overgrown and was supposed to be impassable; and the information (obtained from false spies) of Te Kooti's intended attack by the Te Reinga track was relied on as correct.

“The Hau-haus were aided by the majority of the (supposed) friendly natives of the district, and that night a party of them were guided to the house occupied by Major Biggs. They reached it about two o'clock on the morning of the 10th. Major Biggs was busy writing out orders for all the settlers to assemble at Gisborne on the following day to insure their safety against a sudden attack. He heard a knock at the front door, no unusual thing even at that hour, for messengers reached him at all hours of the day and night. He opened the door and a glance told him what had happened. He called to his wife, ‘Emily! We are attacked: escape by the back!’ when a volley of

Captain James Wilson. bullets through the door made him fall back into the arms of his wife. The next minute the door was burst open and half-a-dozen bayonet stabs stretched both husband and wife dead on the floor, and a blow from a rifle butt or tomahawk knocked out the brains of the poor little baby. Two of their servants, a married couple, were killed as they rushed out of their room in the back part of the house, and another, a half-caste girl of 17 or 18, had reached a clump of flax bushes about 50 yards from the house when she was overtaken, and a couple of bayonet wounds in her back showed how she had been slain. A servant lad escaped by slipping under the house and hiding between the piles till the departure of the Maoris enabled him to run away unobserved. The murderers then went on to Captain Wilson's house, about a mile and a half away. Wilson had probably heard the firing, as he kept the wretches at bay by firing on them through a window. Soon, however, the Hau-haus contrived to set fire to the house; then the treacherous natives belonging to the place, whom he knew well and thought to be most friendly to him and his wife, called out that they had come to conduct him and his family to a place of safety. Probably believing them, and seeing no better chance, he left the house with one of the children on his back, a servant man carrying another, and Mrs. Wilson leading two little girls.

“The natives escorted them a quarter of a mile in the direction of the bush, and then suddenly fell on them and despatched them with numerous bayonet stabs. The little boy James alone escaped death by crawling unnoticed into a scrubby bush. He was afterwards rescued by a scout, who saw the poor little fellow hiding in some low fern a couple of miles from the place where his family had been murdered. Mrs. Wilson, though she had received nine bayonet wounds, was alive when found three days after the massacre, but in spite of every care she died of her terrible wounds shortly afterwards.

“Meanwhile the bloody work went on, and other parties of the Hau-haus, after dragging the bodies of the victims out in front of their dwellings and securing everything they considered valuable, set fire to the houses. The flames of some of these, the shouts of the murderers, together with the sound of the firing at Major Biggs' house, warned some of the more distant settlers to escape. Women and children, many half naked and barefoot, hurried along in the grey dawn to reach Turanganui, before the human tigers could overtake them. Some ran along the beach, and, aided by husband or brother, struggled through brambles and ‘lawyers’ as they escaped by cattle tracks through the bush. One young girl saved herself and her little brother, whom she had to carry on her back, by running a distance of nine miles. She also was the means of saving a family to whom she gave the alarm as she passed.

“Two of the native scouts were in Poverty Bay on leave on the night of the 9th, and these men, having a brother in the camp of the scouts, hurried off to warn their comrades of what had happened. At grey dawn they reached camp, and the officer and men immediately galloped back to the bay. They found themselves cut off by the enemy and surrounded by hostile natives. They had to abandon their horses, seize a boat, and pull across the bay to Turanganui. On reaching the township, Lieutenant Gascoyne beheld a scene of terror and confusion beyond description. Men and women were eagerly inquiring of every new-comer for information of their missing friends: mothers were weeping aloud for their children, wives for their husbands, and husbands for their wives. All the people had crossed to the left bank of the river to seek safety in the old redoubt, and to place the river between them and the Hau-haus, who could be seen in the distance running about collecting plunder and burning the houses at Makaraka.

“Biggs and Wilson being dead, Lieutenant Gascoyne was the only officer left in the Bay, and he at once took steps to restore order and secure the safety of the women and children. A boat was despatched to recall two small schooners that were beating out to sea. All the men were armed with rifles, and sentries were posted along the river bank, the women and children being sent down to the beach to be shipped on board the two vessels and taken to Napier. None of the men were allowed to leave, and a sentry was posted at the landing place to stop anyone trying to get away, though none seemed to be cowardly enough to wish to do so, save the saddler, who having volunteered as sentry over the landing place, threw down his rifle and belts, and contrived to sneak off in one of the boats among the women, several of whom had implored the officer with tears to allow their husbands to go with them, but without success.

“A despatch was written to the authorities at Napier, begging for reinforcements of men, arms and ammunition, and pending the arrival of these the settlers determined to defend the old redoubt against any fresh attack of the enemy. Meanwhile several fugitives reached the township who had been given up as lost by their friends; some arriving next day in a starving condition, having fled to the bush without taking food with them. All were footsore, weary and ragged, and it became known that the settlers on the south side of the bay had made good their escape along the coast to Wairoa.

“The few friendly natives who joined the whites at the redoubt set to work to strengthen and fortify their pa a little nearer the mouth of the river, and this with the redoubt formed a very strong position for the defence. All the men who could be spared from guard duty were employed in securing the valuables left in the township across the river; but no one took the trouble to save the saddler's things. When he came back to the Bay he found that his shop had been thoroughly looted, and he had the pleasure of seeing that many among the friendly natives were riding about with brand new saddles and bridles. ‘Serve you right!’ was all the sympathy he got. “In a few days Major Westrupp and Captain Tuke arrived with a large force of friendly natives from Napier and some of the volunteers of Captain Tanner's troop. The next day, under cover of a strong picket, the scouts went to collect and bury the remains of all the victims that could be found. This melancholy duty was performed by Lieutenant Gascoyne, who, being able to identify the bodies, placed the members of the same family in one grave, and made arrangements so that surviving relatives could find and remove the remains should they subsequently wish to re-inter them elsewhere. “Very many of the Poverty Bay natives joined Te Kooti, so that he had a large force at his command. Having collected a vast quantity of plunder in the shape of store goods and horses, and some firearms and ammunition, he started to retire by the same track that he had used in his attack on the Bay. He was, however, followed up immediately by the friendly natives from Hawkes Bay led by their chiefs, Renata Kawepo, Karauria and Karaitiana, under the command of Lieutenant Gascoyne, and they overtook and defeated him at Manga-Karetu, killing about sixty of his followers.”

The foregoing gives the bulk of the particulars I wrote shortly after the massacre at Poverty Bay; but I have omitted some horrible details out of consideration for the feelings of some of my friends who had relatives among those killed. I must, however, add a few words in defence of the memory of Major Biggs, whom I know to have been

Major Charles Westrupp. the equal for courage, prudence and energy of any officer who has served in the colony. He was mistaken in supposing that Te Kooti would advance by the Reinga road, but the information at his command made him feel certain that he would do so. Blame for the surprise must lie on the niggard policy which only gave him, in spite of his strong representation of the danger, one small party of men to watch an extent of country that required six such parties to watch it efficiently.

Major Westrupp, as I have already mentioned, arrived from Napier with several hundred friendly natives a few days after the massacre, and news being brought that Te Kooti had withdrawn most of his men into the hills behind Patutahi and was fortifying a position there, it was decided that the Napier natives should follow him up and force a fight if possible. I was sent in nominal command of this body of friendlies, who started in pursuit about the 27th November. I use the term “nominal command” because I was powerless to enforce obedience from the chiefs, and had to depend entirely on my powers of persuasion to make my dusky army do their duty should they be called on to face any unusual danger or privation. I knew, moreover, that the greater number of these fat and well-to-do Maoris from Hawkes Bay would rather run than fight; only two of the many big chiefs were really keen to fight at all.

So I had to keep my eyes open to avoid mischance, and endeavoured to keep my men up to the mark by extolling their courage and superiority to the enemy.

On our first day's march we surprised a party of Hau-haus and shot two of them, but the rest being mounted made good their escape. This affair put my army of about 450 men in very good spirits. Next day they went on with great determination, but did not see any more of the enemy. In the evening the chiefs wanted to return, because they thought they had done enough for glory, and found marching very fatiguing work, but I persuaded them to go on for one more day on the condition that if we could not find the enemy then I would consent to return.

About two o'clock next afternoon I had almost given up hope of overtaking the Hau-haus, and sitting down to rest by the side of the track, allowed 40 or 50 of the men to pass me. We were marching as usual in single file, and as we did not keep very close order, our column of march was over a mile long. Where I stopped to rest, the track led up the side of a hill that crossed the valley from right to left. Our leading men had just reached the top of the rise and I was watching the long zig-zag line creeping up the valley through the high fern below me, when a yell and half-a-dozen rifle shots on the top of the spur told me that we had at last stumbled unexpectedly on the enemy.

“Down with your swags!” was the cry, and “Kokiri kokiri! Kia kaha, kia kaha!” I shouted, as I flung aside my swag and scrambled up the hill at the top of my speed. A glance back showed me the swags flying off to the right and left of the track as far as I could see. This meant quick support from the rear, so urging on those near me, in a few seconds we reached the top in time to prevent our leading men from being doubled up by the Hau-haus' picket posted just over the crest of the hill. They had already shot three of our men and were driving back the others. A volley from twenty fresh rifles drove the Hau-haus back in their turn, leaving two of them dead in the track.

From the ridge we could see that the main body of the enemy were entrenched on the bank of a stream at the foot of the long slope, and that their camp was commanded, at long rifle range, by the ridge on which we were. The firing had brought out a crowd of the enemy who could be seen hastening to the support of their pickets with the evident intention of dislodging us from the ridge we had just seized. As our men came up I made them extend to right and left, and keep up a heavy fire on the advancing Hau-haus.

Unfortunately the fern on the ridge was high and dry and the wind was blowing in our faces. To our disgust the enemy fired the fern with the intention of burning us off the hill. A few of our men continued to fire through the smoke, while the rest pulled up the fern along the ridge, and cleared a space twenty feet wide on our front. This only took a few minutes to do, the men working for their lives. The position was very critical. If we had retreated before the fire we should have given the enemy a fearful advantage, and if my men once began to retreat nothing would have stopped them, and the Hau-haus would probably have punished us all the way back to Poverty Bay.

Seeing that the fire would reach the left of our line first, we drew off to the right, and as the flames came roaring up, we kept up a heavy fire to our left front to prevent the enemy following in their wake. When the flames, reaching our cleared lines, began to die down, we rapidly took ground to our left, and digging in the hot ashes with our few bayonets, sticks, ramrods, and even our naked hands (for the lazy beggars had left behind all our spades and most of our stretchers), we soon dug a wide, shallow shelter-trench all along the ridge, from which we managed to hold the enemy in check very well.

It was now getting dark and the enemy drew off to their entrenchments, only sending us a few bullets every now and then to let us know that they were on the watch against a night attack. My men fired away a lot of ammunition in reply, in spite of my efforts to check them.

By this time we had a dozen men wounded, besides four or five killed. We sent the wounded down to a little gully in our rear, where Dr. Murray Gibbs was kept busy patching them up. When it was quite dark I sent off a mounted scout to hurry up a supply of ammunition that I knew to be on the way from Poverty Bay, and to report to the officer commanding there that we had come upon the enemy. I added a request that a supply of biscuit and bacon might be sent as soon as possible, as we had only rations for one day left.

All night we worked hard improving our shelter, and by morning had a good three hundred yards of our ridge very fairly entrenched, considering that we had no spades or shovels for the work. Our position was fairly strong. It could not easily be turned, and the top of the ridge formed a half circle with the convex side to the enemy. If the Hau-haus had held the ridge and entrenched the top, they would have had a stronger position than that which they had taken up by the stream, but they would have been further from water.

The enemy also had been busy during the night. They had dug a rifle pit on each of two hills that flanked our ridge about 800 yards away; but we did not worry much about them, though fire was opened from both pits as soon as it was daylight. We suffered a good deal from thirst, because the nearest water was 300 yards away in the gully where the wounded were, a long way to carry a supply of water up a steep hill.

All the rations had been lost or eaten during the night, and this was our first day of starvation. Worse still, our ammunition began to fail. In spite of all I could do, our natives wasted a fearful amount. So about 9 a.m., the firing on both sides having nearly ceased, I took a strong party and went to meet and escort the pack-horses bringing up ammunition from the Bay. To my great relief I met them only a few miles down the track, and learned at the same time that the orderly

Dr. Murray Gibbs. whom I had sent for provisions had passed them safely early in the morning on his way to headquarters.

I pushed on the pack-horses with all speed for our ridge, but on our way back we met with an ugly obstacle. The fire that the Hau-haus had lighted on the previous evening had burned its way round to the rear of our position and was now flaming furiously for a hundred yards on both sides of the track between us and the ridge. It was impossible to drive the pack-horses at a gallop up the fiery lane, yet going fast was the only way of getting safely through. Accordingly the horses were unloaded, and a man mounted each horse with a keg held in front of him wrapped in a sack, and with his coat or shawl tied over his head. Then in close, single file we galloped through the fire. I led on a fine old pack-horse, which was more afraid of my spur than he was of the fire.

When I got back to the ridge it was decided that we could do nothing but hold our position till we got the supply of food which we expected to arrive next day. Meanwhile all who could be spared from the trenches set to work to dig fern root and gather sow-thistle for supper. I found that I could not swallow fern-root, though I extracted some juice by chewing it. The sow-thistle was eatable, but would have been better with salt; however, that and a couple of biscuits that Dr. Gibbs shared with me was the only food I had for four days and a half. The couple of pack-horses left in camp would have given us a good meal, but the native owner would not allow them to be killed.

The reason that we were so long without food was that the enemy sent a strong party ten miles to our rear and attacked the convoy, who all bolted and allowed the Hau-haus to collar everything, including, unfortunately, 12,000 rounds of ammunition, but of this we afterwards recovered 8,000 rounds. Meanwhile we sent one hundred men back for twenty miles to act as escort for the next supply, and some of our wounded went with them bound for the hospital.

All this time we exchanged shots with the Hau-haus pretty constantly by day and night. On the third day of the fighting they attacked our ridge in force, but we beat them back at all points, though not without considerable loss. Old Renata Kawepo charged a strong party of the enemy that had advanced up the gully on our right, but his men fell back before the heavy fire they received. Renata was nearly surrounded by the Hau-haus, when Karauria from our right and I from the centre rushed forward with a few men each and drove them back from within a few yards of the plucky old fellow, who had been too proud to retreat with his men. Poor Karauria was severely wounded, and I had my forage cap split across by a bullet. Karauria being a chief of note, his men insisted on carrying him down to Poverty Bay two days after he was hit, though the doctor told them he could not survive the journey, which indeed killed him. My servant, a powerful young fellow named Eruera, was shot through the body, but I would not allow him to be carried down for a week. Though his kidneys had been injured and his lower limbs were paralysed, to the surprise of the doctor he eventually got quite well again.

When the rations arrived, news came that a body of the Ngatiporou tribe under the leadership of Ropata-waha-waha, Lieut. G. A. Preece and Hotene, would reinforce us in a couple of days. As the Ngatikahunga (Renata and Tareha's people) were disheartened by their losses, we determined to await their arrival before attacking the Hau-hau entrenchments. Meanwhile both sides kept up their rifle practice, and I had a careful shot at a fellow in a black frock coat whom we supposed to be Te Kooti. When I fired he jumped out of sight as if he were frightened or hurt, and as Te Kooti was wounded

Renata Kawepo in the foot about that time, it is possible that mine may have been the lucky shot.

On the afternoon of 23rd December, 1868, Ropata and his men arrived. We had arranged that he should come up on our right, and that as soon as his men were in line our whole force would advance to the attack. It was a beautiful sight, a line of fire and smoke half a mile long, with both flanks thrown forward rapidly descending the hill: the men closing to the centre as they got close to the enemy's entrenchments on both sides of the stream. Our concentrated fire must have been terrible. But the Hau-haus fought until we were within forty yards of them, when our advance became a rush. Nevertheless when we leaped over the banks into their trenches there were none but dead and dying to be seen. A stream of water ran at the back of their position, and a dense bush covered the opposite bank. Into this the enemy rushed, and the sun having set, darkness put an end to our pursuit. However, they left over sixty dead in the trenches, and in the short pursuit one of my scouts, named Henare Kakapango, killed one of their chief fighting men, called Nama, a man noted for his courage and ferocity.

Just as we rushed the trenches, two of my half-dozen white volunteers, Bill Howard and Tom Lake, were hit. Howard was shot through the shoulder. Lake got a bullet clean through his head; it entered just below his left eye and came out close behind his right ear. Strange to say he eventually recovered from the wound, though he was slightly paralyzed in one arm and leg.

Chapter V.

Major Ropata—First attack on Ngatapa—Strength of the enemy's position—Hotene—Panic of his men—Blackstock—Mohi—We abandon the attack—The New Zealand cross—I get promotion—A waiting reinforcements—Second attack on Ngatapa delayed—A dangerous bit of scouting—Captain Newland—The raupo swamp—Rescue of Ateria—Shortt nearly kills me—Second attack on Ngatapa—The siege—Te Kooti escapes—£5 a head for captives.

Next morning, in pursuance of an agreement arrived at during the night, the combined forces started in pursuit of the enemy, but by noon Ropata's Ngatiporou and Tareha's Ngatikahunga came to loggerheads over the disposal of a prisoner.

It had been decided that no quarter should be given before we attacked Ngatapa, Te Kooti's new stronghold. Unfortunately the first prisoner taken by the advance guard turned out to be a connection of Tareha's, who insisted on his life being spared. There was angry shouting between the tribes, because sparing a prisoner under the circumstances was considered certain to entail bad luck, and Lieutenant Preece and I feared that blood would be shed before the question was settled. In the end our natives, after firing a volley in the direction of the enemy, marched back to camp, and Tareha's men went several miles further towards Turanganui that evening before they halted.

Preece and I stayed with Ropata, and that night we held a council of war with him, Hotene, and several of the leading men of the tribe. Though Ropata supported us, it was with difficulty that we obtained the consent of the leaders to attack the following day.

I was very anxious to know for certain if Ngatapa was really the

Major Ropata almost impregnable stronghold that vague native gossip had stated it to be. It was believed that in consequence of our success of the previous day Te Kooti had retreated to the safety of the unknown country towards Ruatahuna; correct information was, therefore, of great importance. Unfortunately we were short of ammunition, having only from 30 to 40 rounds a man, and could not risk more than a short, sharp fight.

At break of day we started in two companies of about 150 each. The right column, commanded by Ropata and Preece, was to follow up the bed of the stream that would lead them through thick bush to the foot of the bluff on the summit of which Ngatapa was built. The left column, under Hotene and myself, was to advance along a wooded spur that ended in an open crest crossed by the palisades of the Maori fort.

Before we reached this spur we had to cross a creek in the dividing gully. Here Hotene, on the plea of feeling ill, decided to stop, retaining about thirty men as a body guard. I pushed on with the rest, and when we reached the more open flax and manuka scrub that gave cover to within a hundred yards of the enemy, we formed a line across the spur. Peeping over the tops of the bushes we could see the palisading about seventy yards off, with loop-holes every six or eight feet about five feet from the ground, showing that a bullet-proof bank was behind the timber. We could not see a movement or hear a sound of life, and my men began to whisper that the fort might be empty. I passed the word to keep cover closely, and moved forward cautiously on the right till I was only twenty yards from the angle on my right, where I was in full view of any watching defender. I then walked across the front of the pa nearly to the middle, when a slight noise made me throw myself down behind a flax bush, barely in time to escape a heavy volley from the palisade. For a minute or two the bullets kept flicking the leaves of my flax bush in a way that warned me to move to a safer spot: so I slid down the slight slope on my stomach back to our alignment. Then to my disgust I found myself alone, with two recently killed men crumpled up near me; the only sign of my men was a very distant sound of the breaking of a passage through the bush. Presently one man came back towards me. He was a white named Blackstock, who had fought with me at Waiapu. When he found that I had not gone with the retreating natives, he supposed that I must have been wounded or killed, and was looking for me.

“Every wan of auld Hotene's Maoris is running like hell,” he exclaimed, “and won't stop for anyone.”

Hastening on I overtook Mohi, a staunch old fighting man. I tried to persuade him to stop the men, as Ropata was firing and might want help. He pushed me aside, saying contemptuously, “Don't you know that it is a whati (panic), and the result of the bad omens that you and Preece would not listen to?” Then I went on to Hotene and asked him to get some of his men to go back and join Ropata. He also refused, so Blackstock and I started to go round to Ropata, but we met one of his men who said that the chief was also retiring and would soon join us. This turned out to be true, and shortly after we marched back to camp, unmolested by the enemy who were deterred from following us by their knowledge of Ropata's closeness to their flank.

Our party had lost six killed. When the men saw me walking across the front of the pa without being fired at they raised their heads above the cover and presented too tempting a mark for the enemy to resist.

Ropata had not lost any men. Preece and he, followed by a dozen men, crawled up the precipice over a hundred feet by the aid of shrubs, to the end of the ditch behind the front wall. Ropata fired along the ditch and cleared the enemy out of it for some distance, Preece handing on loaded rifles to him and passing back those discharged. But the enemy was so well posted inside that it was impossible to get further, and to remain clinging in single file to the face of the cliff was simply to invite slaughter. So orders were passed down for the party to retire the way they had come, and, followed by Ropata and Preece and a rearguard of good shots, they rejoined Hotene's men, and all returned to our last night's camp.

Our small residue of ammunition and the encumbrance of our wounded made it necessary to make a very early retirement to Turanganui next morning, and we were extremely fortunate not to have to fight our way back.

I had directed that all wounded who had to be carried were to be sent off at daylight. Thinking that all were well on the track, with my mounted orderly and a bugler lad I was busy setting fire to provisions that we had no means of carrying back with us, when Dr. Murray Gibbs reported that Lake, the wounded white man, had been abandoned by the natives who were told off to carry him.

The only thing to be done was to carry him ourselves, so Gibbs and I picked up the stretcher and doubled along as fast as we could, the orderly relieving one of us in turn, and the bugler keeping a sharp look-out for any sign of pursuit. At last we reached a dense patch of high manuka scrub, and being quite exhausted by the labour of running with such a heavy weight as this fellow Lake (who cursed at us all the time), we carried him deep into the scrub. Leaving the three others to watch for the Hau-hau scouts who would be sure to follow us for some miles, I galloped to overtake a dozen or so of our natives and force them to return and act as bearers. I had to threaten that they would lose the whole of their pay for the expedition if they refused the duty, and finally got twenty men to return with me to where I had left the doctor, and very glad we were to get going again away from a very dangerous position. If we had been noticed by any of the enemy's scouts, we should have had but a slight chance of getting away safely.

Both Ropata and Preece, on my recommendation, were awarded the New Zealand cross for their plucky attempt on Ngatapa. Later I recommended Doctor Gibbs for the cross for his action in assisting to carry the wounded man, Lake, at great risk of being overtaken by the enemy.

We pushed on with the wounded for Turanganui, and in the afternoon struck a camp of armed constabulary and reported to Colonel Whitmore. We met a lot of old comrades and were very glad of a good meal, and the chance of a wash and change of underclothing after a fortnight of most strenuous marching, fighting, night watching, and short commons.

I was here notified that I was gazetted captain and sub-inspector in the armed constabulary, and attached to Colonel Fraser's No. 1 division.

Colonel Whitmore's intention was to attack Ngatapa forthwith, but Ropata refused to co-operate until he had recruited a fresh lot of his tribe, as most of his men were footsore and tired. Whitmore was very angry and wished to attack without waiting for Ropata's men and the 6th and 7th divisions of A.C. who were on their way to join him. However, my description of Te Kooti's strength at Ngatapa helped towards the more prudent course of awaiting reinforcements, and two days later we moved camp back to Makaraka, four miles from Gisborne.

About this time a foolish rumour got abroad to the effect that Te Kooti had burned Ngatapa and retired to the Urewera country. He was, however, so well informed in regard to Whitmore's plans and strength, that the Hau-haus grew very daring, making several incursions into the Bay at night, stealing horses and doing other mischief. Early in December they actually murdered some members of the Wylie family at the Big Bush, only five miles from our camp.

One night I was on duty with the outlying picket under Captain Newland, and hearing dogs barking far away on our right front, where I knew no friendly natives would venture after dark, I left the picket and went by myself in the direction of the sound. Advancing cautiously, I heard Maori voices quite distinctly, but as the natives were on the opposite side of the river, I could not ascertain their number. However, I judged there were a good many, and knowing that they must be enemies, reported accordingly.

When he received the picket report next morning the commanding officer declared that my ears had deceived me; he could not believe that the Hau-haus would venture within ten miles of his camp. However, by way of testing the truth of my report, he ordered me to go as guide to Captain Newland and nine or ten mounted men, who were to patrol to a point in our front about ten miles off, where the track from Ngatapa forked on the bank of a creek. We were to examine the crossing of the creek for signs of Hau-haus having passed down on the previous day.

Newland and I were well aware of the useless risk that our party ran. We knew that the enemy was in force somewhere near, and that we might be caught in an ambush or cut off from the open country by a force that we could not tackle. However, we had to carry out our orders and depend on a sharp look-out.

It was a mere cattle track up a long narrow valley that we were on, between a deep creek and a steep hillside, leading in places through bush where we had to jump our horses over logs and push our way through vines and supplejacks. This was the most dangerous part of the track, for we could only move slowly in single file; if attacked there, we could neither form line to charge, nor move quickly enough to make running away of much use.

At length we got through and were within a mile and a half of the fork. Here to save time and risk we halted the party. I galloped on by myself to the fork and examined the track, and returned to tell Newland that there were scores of fresh marks of foot and hoof, pointing both up and down, but too much mixed to tell more than that many men had passed within the preceding twenty-four hours.

Having obeyed orders we thought that the sooner we got back to the open country the better; but the men were tired, having been on duty all the previous night, and they begged leave to stop for some biscuit and tea. Newland gave them half an hour, and this delay was the cause of our being very nearly trapped by the Hau-haus. After the hurried meal we continued our march down the valley, Newland leading and I bringing up the rear. We had nearly got through the biggest bit of bush, when, looking ahead, I could see the leading men suddenly stop as they reached the more open fern-land. Fifty yards beyond them, where the track went over a spur of the hill on our left running our across the main valley, I could see a line of black faces looking at us over the top of the fern. Where the track came out of the bush we had the impassable creek on the right and a raupo swamp on the left filling the mouth of a little glen that branched off the main valley at this point. In the morning I had noticed that cattle had made a track through this swamp. The bottom, therefore, was hard and could be ridden on; once over this and the ridge beyond, the

descent into the flat country on the other side was fairly easy.

As soon as I caught sight of the line of dark faces, I knew that we were in a tight corner, and that our best chance was to get round the flank of the Hau-haus. I had just time to shout to Newland, “Through the swamp to your left,” when we received a tremendous volley from the enemy. How we escaped annihilation at such a short range I do not know, but I only saw one of our men fall from his horse. The others dashed into the raupo to our left, while the Hau-haus rushed forward, reloading as fast as they could. The man who fell was a young native scout named Ateria. He was unhurt, and as his horse plunged after the others, the brave fellow faced the Hau-haus with his carbine at the “present,” determined, as he afterwards told me, to get one life as utu for his own. Meanwhile, just as his horse, which was only slightly wounded, reached the edge of the swamp, I caught the brute by the bridle and called to Ateria to run for it. He lost no time in jumping on his horse's back, and dived into the raupo just as some of the Hau-haus had reloaded their muzzle-loaders. Those nearest to us made a rush to seize us, but we were too quick for them.

The bullets flew thick as we made off, but we were not touched. As we cleared the swamp and made for the ridge, I noticed that some of the enemy had run up the hill behind their first position and were firing at us from the higher ground, while others had followed us through the swamp. We soon caught up with the rear men of our party, who were spurring their horses through the fern to gain the top of the ridge, and I called to those who had reached it to halt and fire over our heads at our pursuers. Newland repeated the order and fired himself, upon which the Hau-haus gave up the chase, greatly to my relief, for if they had followed us up in the bad ground we were in, they would probably have got some of us. But an over-excited man, named Shortt, just in front of me fired his carbine so close to my head that he scorched my face. Years after I was having my hair cut in a saloon at Auckland when I heard the proprietor telling a customer how he had nearly shot his officer when he was soldiering in Poverty Bay. I remarked that his yarn was quite true, and that I was the officer he spoke of. He seemed delighted to meet me again, and wanted me to sample all the whiskey in Queen Street.

When we reached camp at dusk we learned that the first division had had a skirmish with the mob that fired on us and had lost Sergeant Read, a very fine young fellow. We were also told that shortly after we started in the morning it was known that a force of Hau-haus were in the Bay, and No. 1 division had been sent to reconnoitre them, but that no steps had been taken to cover our patrol or to bring us out of the muddle. So tired, hungry and sulky, we fed our horses and ourselves, and blessed the C.O.'s eyes.

Next day we moved camp to Patutahi on the Ngatapa track, and the following day the whole force marched some ten miles up the Big River, but we saw nothing of the enemy and returned to camp. The following day Ropata with a fresh contingent of Ngatiporou, and Colonel Roberts with the 6th division joined us, and the day after the force marched to the siege of Ngatapa.

This promised to be a tough job, as the Maori fort had been much strngthened since my visit to it. A high sod wall, loop-holed, was built right across the front, and a third palisade had been added on the inner side. The flanks could not be scaled, and the rear approach was a steep, knife-like edge commanded by loop-holed rifle pits that could only be reached by climbing in single file. It was decided to keep a strong division watching the rear, with a few of our men clinging to the ladder-like path wherever they could get foothold and keep

the enemy's marksmen busy. More than one New Zealand cross was won at this point.

A flying sap was dug in the front approach with the intention of blowing up a bit of the new wall, and we had two Cohorn mortars throwing shells over the wall: so for three days and nights the fight went on. Captain Brown of No. 7 division was killed, and Captain Capel of the same division was shot through the shoulder. I had to leave my own party and take Capel's place, and by this time we had many wounded and some more killed among our casualties—a busy Christmas day!

The third day of the siege was very wet and stormy, and I was ordered to be in readiness that evening to lead a forlorn hope of thirty men of No. 7 division against the fortress. I selected my men and wedged them under shelter of the top of the cliff on our right, about forty yards from the outer wall of the stronghold. The ground being open and level from the cliff to the wall and exposed to the fire of the defenders, we waited till it was nearly dusk. Then the major commanding No. 7 division ordered me to rush my party across to the foot of the wall and take some shovels and axes with me, and wait there for further orders. My two sergeants and the men heard these orders given and so knew what we had to do.

The major then squeezed himself into the shelter-hole which I had made while waiting for the order to advance, remarking, “A major was more valuable than a captain.” On his order, “Charge to the wall!” I sang out, “Follow me, lads!” and rushed across to the wall and crouched under the shelter of it; but I was alone. Through the din of the firing and the noise of the storm, I could hear the senior sergeant swearing at the men; then he rushed over and joined me under the wall. Presently two more ran over to us; then four or five; so by degrees the party got over, and keeping close to the wall we were fairly safe from the bullets of the Hau-haus.

No more orders came, so we just squatted in the wind and rain till long after midnight. Meanwhile Mr. Edward Hamlin and a body of our native allies took post further along the wall to our right.

Just before dawn I heard, through the howling of the wind, the voices of women screaming something about Te Kooti having left the pa, and I called to Hamlin to know what was the matter. He answered that the women said, “Stop shooting; there are only women and wounded here. Te Kooti and his men have got away down the cliff by flax ropes.” Hamlin said, “I am going in to find out.” I called, “Look out for a trap; I will support.” Then the “cease fire” sounded, and as the day dawned the cry of the women was found to be true. A good many badly-wounded men and some women were soon in the hands of the surgeons; the dead were very few.

The nearly perpendicular cliff down which the enemy escaped, dropped steeply into dense bush on the west side between Fraser's division and the right attack. The darkness and the noise of the wind and the rain favoured their escape.

After breakfast I was ordered to march No. 7 division back to Gisborne, but when about three miles down from Ngatapa I met the Hon. J. C. Richmond, who halted me to learn the news. He asked what steps had been taken to pursue Te Kooti. I told him that I knew of none, but that plenty of men, both whites and Ngatiporou natives, would readily volunteer for pursuit, especially if head money were offered.

Mr. Richmond ordered me to follow him back to Ngatapa and rode on with his orderlies: so we wheeled right-about and started up the track again. I halted at the edge of the timber some 200 yards

Sketch of Attack of Ngatapa. from the pa, as I wanted a clean spot to camp on, and went on to report my return and get leave to let my men fall out and boil their billies for tea with their biscuit and cold bacon. Fresh rations had been served out that morning, and very welcome they were, for we had been without meat for several days. I was lucky, for on the previous day a native friend had given me a chunk, as big as my fist, of boiled horse that someone had shot. I found it such good eating that I saved half wrapped in paper to keep it clean in my pocket, at the risk of being shot before I had another meal of it.

Presently two excited natives came to ask me if it was true that the Government had promised £5 a head for all Hau-haus caught. On my saying that I believed the offer was genuine, one of them slapped his thigh and remarked, “My word, I get some of that money.” Sure enough next morning he produced a sack with three heads in it, and his mate another sack with two heads! However, I do not think that many of the Hau-haus were caught, though one or two noted men were captured. A few women were overtaken, but their heads were not wanted.

The following day we again marched down the track bound for Turanganui (Gisborne), and half a mile from Ngatapa I noticed between twenty and thirty prisoners drawn up near the track. They seemed a fine lot of young men and I was told that they were to be shot. Afterwards I heard that the sentence had been carried out on the spot where I had seen them, except that one of them made a dash into the bush, but was run down and tomahawked in the creek below the track by some of the Ngatiporou young men.

Chapter VI.

The reverses on the west coast—Te-Ngutu-o-te-Manu—Moturoa—Colonel McDonnell's despatch.

As I am writing of the Maori war, I must mention the sad reverses our force suffered at Te-Ngutu-o-te-Manu and Moturoa, on the west coast.

At the first-named fight our casualties were forty-four in number, and among the sixteen killed were five officers: Major von Tempskey, Captain Buck, Captain Palmer, Lieutenants Hunter and Hastings.

Very early on 7th September, 1868, a force of about 400 men, under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Thomas McDonnell, marched from Waihi camp to attack the fortified Maori pa called Te-Ngutu-o-te-Manu, situated at the head of a clearing in the bush, but nearly surrounded by forest. Avoiding the more open track to Te Ngutu, the force advanced through rough forest country much cut up by gulleys and hills. After a toilsome march of eight hours, pushing their way through supple-jack and under-scrub, they caught sight of the palisading of the pa, and came immediately under heavy fire from the enemy on all sides. Many were the casualties before the men entangled in the bush could be collected to repel the attack and remove the wounded.

Major von Tempskey's party found themselves facing the enemy's left rear. The major, leaving the men in charge of Captain Roberts, went round to the left front (it is presumed to obtain instructions from the colonel), but was immediately killed by shots fired from a platform on a rata tree, growing against the palisading. In trying to recover his body, several more of our men were killed. The colonel then directed the carriers of the wounded to retreat down the track towards Waihi, and all the spare men that could be collected were ordered to cover their retreat. But the tired and confused men, forming small groups in the bush and offering an easy mark to the concealed enemy, were with difficulty persuaded by the officers and non-commissioned officers to form a rear fighting line. By now the wounded out-numbered the stretchers. The retreat, under a galling fire as far as the Waingongoro river, moved but slowly towards Waihi camp, which Colonel McDonnell reached late at night, to find that about a hundred men had got there before him, and that Roberts and eighty men were missing.

Meanwhile Captain Roberts, hearing that his senior officer, von Tempskey, was killed, sounded the “halt” and the “officers' call,” and on being joined by Captain Buck, asked him to hold the position while he tried to ascertain the truth. “If I am not back in fifteen minutes,” he added, “you will know what has happened to me, and you must do the best you can to get the men away from here.”

Roberts then made his way back to the edge of the timber on the left flank of the pa where he had last seen von Tempskey; there he found Lieutenant Hunter's body, but no sign of von Tempskey's, which he concluded had been dragged away by the enemy.

He then returned as quickly as possible to his party, being followed closely and fired at by two or three Hau-haus. On reaching his men he found that Captain Buck had been killed, and that a number of the enemy had come out to attack his company, and looked as if they intended to make a rush.

Roberts at once formed up the men in a crescent-shaped line in the bush, and received the advancing enemy with three or four crashing volleys that not only checked their rush, but drove them back to the shelter of their palisade. Roberts was loyally assisted in doing this by Lieutenant Hastings, Ensign Hirtzel, and Sergeant-Major Livingston, the last-named being tireless in his cheerful activity and helpfulness during all that trying night.

I am sorry to add that in assisting Captain Roberts to bring in the bodies of Captain Buck and Captain Palmer, Lieutenant Hastings was mortally wounded and shortly afterwards expired. Here also Corporal Russell, another good man, was killed.

It was now getting dark, and as the enemy had ceased firing, Roberts withdrew his men a little further into the bush, waiting there until the rising of the moon, a little after midnight, enabled him quietly to withdraw his men, carrying or assisting the wounded; the dead they had to leave.

They reached the crossing of the Waingongora river without any further fighting, and got to Waihi camp early on the 8th, after a ceaseless task of thirty hours' duration.

Shortly after this, Colonel McDonnell having resigned his command, Colonel Whitmore took charge of the West Coast force. On 7th November, 1868, he directed an attack on the strongly fortified position of Moturoa; but he had under estimated the great strength of the pa and the attack failed. We lost many men, including Major Hunter, who was killed while gallantly leading the charge up to the stockade.

On the 12th July of this year the Hau-haus surprised the Turi-Turi-Mokai redoubt, and slew most of the weak garrison of twenty-five men. It was here that Captain Frederick Ross was killed.

Not having been present myself at these three fights in which our forces were defeated by the rebel natives, I find it difficult to write of them more fully. And the few survivors of those engaged are reluctant to describe those battles in any detail, because a full description would necessarily refer to mistakes and oversights of men long dead and incapable of explanation or defence. I append Colonel McDonnell's despatch in order that the official narrative may fill up the gaps in my incomplete summary of the events of those tragic days.

Camp Waihi.

9th September, 1868.

Sir,

I have the honour to state, for the information of the Hon. the Minister for Colonial Defence, that I left here at 4 a.m. on the 7th inst. with a force as per margin:— The whole of the force was under Lieut.-Col. McDonnell. No. 2 Division A.C., 16 men; Patea Rifle Volunteers, 14 men, under Captain Palmer; No. 5 Division A.C., 59 men, under Sub-Inspectors Brown and Roberts; the Wellington Rangers, 45 men, under Lieutenants Hastings and Hunter; Taranaki Volunteers, 26 men, under Lieutenant Rowan; Waihi Volunteers, 2 men. Total 142 men. This detachment was under the command of Major von Tempskey; Dr. Walker as surgeon. The following companies were under the command of Inspector Hunter:—No. 3 Division A.C., 32 men, with Sub-Inspectors Newland and Young; Wellington Rangers, 65 men, with Capt. Buck, Lieutenant Fookes, and Ensign Hirtzell; Pate Y.C., 11 men, with Captain O'Halloran; Dr. Best as surgeon. Total 108, chiefs and men; Kupapas 110 men with Captain McDonnell. intending to reach Te Rua-aruru through the bush, attack that village and return by Te Ngutu-o-te-Manu. On reaching Mawhiti-ahiti we struck inland on the main track to Te Ngutu-o-te-Manu and to seaward of the track that is supposed to exist and marked out on the map, to Te Rua-aruru. After proceeding some distance on a very old trail, it ceased altogether; we then headed in the supposed direction of the place named. We got into very rough country, intersected with gullies and streams, and a perfect network of supple-jacks. About 1 p.m. we ascended a bush ridge, and, on the advice of Honi Papara, our guide, struck for the sea to try and hit a track. After struggling in the bush for another hour we heard voices ahead, and I sent a native up a tree to investigate. He could only see smoke. Pushing on in the direction of the voices, we came upon three or four bark huts, which were rushed by the Kupapas, who fired into them, the inmates rushing away, leaving two killed, and three children, who were taken. I then left the Kupapas to bring up the rear, and directed Major von Tempskey to lead on the men under his immediate command, sending Honi Papara and a few friendly natives on in front. We soon got into a fair track, and, after proceeding about 400 or 500 yards we saw some more huts and a tent to the right of the path, and afterwards, to our surprise, found it was Tikowar's sleeping place. Of course there was no one inside, the shots that had been fired having warned them. Following sharp on the track, we crossed a creek, and on rising the opposite bank we received a sharp fire. As fast as possible I got the men formed up and returned it. In a very few minutes we were fired upon from front, right and rear, but except within the palisading in the clearing in our front, we could see no enemy. In examining the place more closely I found we were at the rear of Te Ngutu-o-te-Manu, and not at Rua-aruru, and that a new stockade had been erected and the old one rebuilt. As I could see that it would be impossible to rush, and, even if successful, to hold the place, as the enemy were not only occupying but around three sides of it, and up in the rata trees, some of which were hollow at the butt and loop-holed, I determined to collect the wounded, now seven in number, and endeavour to push to my left, the only point that appeared open. There was no track, and the few natives that were with us not knowing of one, I directed Inspector Hunter to accompany the wounded with Captain Newland, instructing the latter to keep Honi Papara in view, who had promised to strike a way out. I was obliged to trust to his knowledge of the country, he having lived there for some time. I then returned to Major von Tempskey, and sent Kemp to collect as many of his men as he could, and send them to join Captain Newland in front. I then desired Major von Tempskey to collect the rest of the men to form a rearguard and come on at once. I told Captain Cumming to come on with me. During the whole of this time the enemy were firing heavily at us in every direction. Our way had to be cut through supple-jacks and undergrowths, which, with the eight stretchers we now had, was a work of toil and difficulty. We at length reached the creek that runs through Timaru, but still no track. Presently the news was brought to me that Major von Tempskey, Captain Buck, Captain McDonnell (N.C.), and Lieutenant Hunter were shot dead; but just then Captain McDonnell came up and stated that Major von Tempskey, Captain Buck, and Lieutenant Hunter were killed, and that he had told Lieutenant Hastings that the only chance was to carry out the orders that had been given to Major von Tempskey; at once his reply was that “Captain Buck is senior,” and he would consult him. Captain McDonnell then went to see Captain Buck, but found that he was killed, and the enemy by this time in possession of the place where the bodies of Buck, Major von Tempskey and two men lay. He returned then, and pointed out to Mr. Hastings the necessity of retiring. The fire at this time was very heavy from the front, rear, and right, and from the tops of the rata trees. He then followed on my trail, with eight natives and ten Europeans, and reported as above. I had now with me about 80 men, including natives—hardly sufficient to carry our wounded, now increasing in number, and to keep down the fire from our right. Knowing that a large proportion of the force was in rear, and several good officers, I moved on, feeling sure they were covering our retreat; but I presently found that the enemy had got between us, and it appears from what Sub-Inspector Roberts tells that soon after Captain McDonnell had left, the Hau-haus succeeded in completely surrounding the rearguard, and it was only with the greatest difficulty they cut their way through them. The Hau-haus then left him (as he struck to the left further into the bush) and came after us, overtaking us just before we struck the main track leading into Te Ngutu-o-te-Manu (as in map). Captain McDonnell meanwhile had taken up a position at Te Maru to keep our front open; our wounded had by this time increased to twelve, who had to be carried, beside several who had been hit but could walk. The men with our party worked hard, but were so done up as to require every persuasion and advice I and my officers could think of to keep the majority from abandoning the wounded; one man killed dead I had to leave, and Dr. Best was badly hit in going to ascertain his state. The doctor had to be carried off on rifles, having no more stretchers in my party. The natives now swarmed in our rear, and kept up a heavy fire, which I was obliged to return only occasionally, as my ammunition was very short, Captain Cumming and myself loading and firing now and then. I was afraid the enemy might have got round to the crossing of the Waingongoro river before I could reach it. We attained the opening at Ahi Pai pa just at dusk, and here received a parting volley from the enemy. They followed on yelling, and commenced a war dance in the open ground out of the bush. I caused my men to cheer and gave them a volley which I should think took effect, as their dance ended rather abruptly, and they did not molest us any more. I may state that for some time I had not heard any distant firing, and therefore concluded the remainder of the force had got in advance of me. I pushed on across the river and found a few friendly natives holding the crossing. We got the men and wounded safely across and reached camp about 10 p.m. A mixed party of natives and Europeans, the latter numbering about 80, had arrived before me, and reported that all the officers were killed or wounded and left behind, myself included. On roll being called, I found that Sub-Inspector Roberts, Captain Palmer, Lieutenant Hastings, and Ensign Hirtzell, with about 80 men and four natives, were still absent. I caused three rockets to be fired, and sent a party to the heights above the river and they sounded bugles, but no response was heard. Being satisfied that I could do nothing till day-light, and the officers and men being exhaused, they were dismissed. I had arranged to start the natives to hunt up the missing men in the morning, and just as they were about to start, a party was seen approaching the camp, which proved to be Sub-Inspector Roberts, Ensign Hirtzell and 62 men, with four natives, who reported Captain Palmer and Lieutenant Hastings as having been killed. I enclose the statement of Sub-Inspector Roberts of what took place from the time when he became senior officer of the rearguard. It is, I feel, a most difficult task to do justice to the conduct of the brave officers I have had the honour to command on this occasion. I can simply say they did their duty like Englishmen. Their gallant conduct under the most galling fire; their inspiring and cheerful demeanour to encourage men when weary, exhausted, and almost giving up, saved many lives, and commanded respect and obedience in situations rarely exceeded for difficulty and danger; and I feel confident that if Major von Tempskey or Captain Buck had lived a few minutes longer, I would not have to regret for ever the loss of so many gallant comrades whose services at this time the colony so much requires. The conduct of the men was excellent, until they found that the enemy was in force on all sides, when some of them became dispirited; but the noble example of many of their number, with the assistance of many of their officers and non-commissioned officers, helped to instil fresh heart, notwithstanding seven hours scrambling through dense forests had almost exhausted them before they reached the enemy. Of the conduct of the Kupapas I can speak hightly: I never saw them behave better. Kemp, Power, and their small party with us, and the guide Horo Papara, deserve the special thanks of the Government. The services of Ngatiapa, under Hunai, Hakiki Pirimona, Peete, Hunta, and others in assisting Europeans through the bush when cut off from us, I consider deserve to be recognised by Government. The five men who remained with Sub-Inspector Roberts when they might have left him and party to their own resources are Hakeru, Tarei, Te Waikuine, and Waikitoa or Pita; the men were so grateful for the conduct of the Kupapas that they subscribed some money and presented it to them. Amongst the non-commissioned officers and men whose conduct deserves special notice was Sergeant-Major Scannell (for whom I would be grateful if the Government would do something in the Armed Constabulary); Sergeant Davey, No. 2 Division A.C., who got up a tree and fired at the enemy; Sergeant Bennett, No. 3 Division A.C.; Corporal Cahill, No. 3 Division A.C.; Constables Ready, Kelly, Percy, and Quigley, No. 3 Division A.C.; Corporal Boyd, No. 5 Division A.C.; Sergeant Fleur, Wellington Rangers; and Volunteers Sergeants Livingston, Blake, and Pope. And now, in conclusion, I would beg most strongly to represent to the Hon. the Minister for Colonial Defence the fact that the natives who accompanied me and who, it is known, killed fifteen of the enemy, yet themselves suffered no loss, not even a man wounded; this, I trust, will prove that, to fight natives successfully in a bush, every tree and track of which is known to them, requires men who have been long and carefully trained to such difficult work. Instead of my men dispersing and taking cover, they could not be prevented from huddling together in small lots, affording a good target to the enemy. My efforts, and those of my officers, were in most cases without effect in convincing them of the mistake they were making. Though willing and anxious to do their duty, their short training had not been sufficient to teach them how.

Mr. Pringle, late of the 18th Royal Irish, accompanied the expedition as a volunteer. On the way back I desired him to take charge of some men, which he did in such an excellent manner that I promised him, on the field, to recommend him for a commission in the force.

I beg to enclose a list of my casualties which I deeply deplore are very heavy, but I am satisfied that the enemy's is much heavier. The Kupapas killed fifteen, and the known killed by the Europeans was thirteen, making a total of twenty-eight. This does not include the loss they must have suffered when we were fighting our way out.

I have the honour to be, Sir,

Your most obedient servant,

Thos. McDonnell, Lieutenant-Colonel.

N.B.—I omitted to mention that Father Rolland again accompanied the force and shared the same dangers. He also assisted to carry the wounded with my party, and his example was a great incentive to my men to persevere. For fear there might be any mistake, I regret to state that the dead had all to be left behind.

Thos. McDonnell,

Lieutenant-Colonel.

Killed. No. 3 Division, A.C. Corporal Russell. No. 3 Division, A.C. Constable Elkin. No. 3 Division, A.C. Constable Fennessy. No. 3 Division, A.C. Constable Hart. No. 5 Division, A.C. Major von Tempskey. No. 5 Division, A.C. Constable Gilgan. No. 5 Division, A.C. Constable Davis. No. 5 Division, A.C. Constable Farram. Wellington Rangers Lieutenant Hunter. Wellington Rangers Lieutenant Hastings. Wellington Rangers Private Dore.
This man was reported dead in error. He came into camp two days later, having been wounded in the arm.
Wellington Rangers Private Hughes. Wellington Rifles Captain Buck. Wellington Rifles Lance-Corporal Lumsden. Wellington Rifles Private Grant. Taranaki Volunteers Private Deekson. Patea Rifles Captain Palmer.

Wounded. No. 2 Division, A.C. Constables O'Brien and Houston. No. 2 Division, A.C. Constables O'Connor and Burke. No. 3 Division, A.C. Constable Hogan. No. 3 Division, A.C. Constable Watton. No. 3 Division, A.C. Constable Futton. No. 5 Division, A.C. Sergeant Towey. No. 5 Division, A.C. Constable Shanahan. Wellington Rangers Private McGenniskin. Wellington Rangers Privates Harris and Caldwell. Wellington Rangers Privates McManus and Goddard. Wellington Rifles Corporal Walden. Wellington Rifles Private Griffiths. Wellington Rifles Privates Loder and Jansey. Taranaki Volunteers Lieutenant Rowan. Taranaki Volunteers Privates Wells and Hamblyn. Taranaki Volunteers Privates Melville and Holloway. Taranaki Volunteers Privates Hyland and Flynn.

Missing. Privates Darlington and Downe.

Chapter VII.

Taurangaika—The fight in the peach orchard—March to Otautu—The Arawas break—Battle in the fog—We are severely handled—Crossing Te Ngaere swamp—Colonel Lyon—The enemy warned—Galatea—Opepe—Matata camp—“Aua”—I am placed under arrest—End of a farcical trial.

A few days after we reached Gisborne, a Government steamer carried my division round to Wanganui, and directly we landed we marched off to Woodall's redoubt, near which we camped. We were fired at during the night, but did not turn out, and the next day, 2nd February, our force under Colonel Whitmore invested a very strong pa called Taurangaika, a stronghold belonging to Titokowaru. We had two field guns, and we shelled the place and kept up a hot rifle fire all day; but we could not surround it, and next morning found that the enemy had left during the night and had crossed over the river, on which it was situated, into bush country.

Taurangaika was very well built with flanking angles at each corner and two look-out towers, strong double palisading well loop-holed, with solid inner bank and earthworks, the ditch carefully traversed, and all inside quarters bomb-proof, sunken chambers.

After its evacuation we camped on the bank of the river (Weraroa, I think, was the name), and as soon as the tents were pitched (we East Coast fellows had nearly forgotten what tents were like), a dozen or two of our men got hold of a canoe and crossed over to a peach orchard two or three hundred yards off. On their reaching the grove sudden firing broke out and we knew what that meant Calling for men to arm and follow, I ran down to the river and got a man to swim across to get the canoe. Then 20 or 30 men followed me to the peach grove, but we saw nothing of the enemy through the orchard and along a track leading into the bush for half a mile further. Hearing more firing behind us we raced back only to find that one of our men was sitting in the bottom of an old pit firing in the air. I disarmed and made a prisoner of him, as he seemed to be half-witted. If I remember rightly, we must have lost eleven men in this most regrettable affair.

For many weeks after this our force moved slowly through very rough country in the vain attempt to surprise the enemy. Almost daily our scouts exchanged shots with them, and a few men were killed on both sides, but our hard night marches were productive only of disappointment and fatigue. Titokowaru's men moved too quickly through the bush for our main body to catch them, and, in my opinion, our commander-in-chief was not good enough in strategy or tactics for warfare of this sort.

At last we camped for three weeks close to the little township of Patea, to rest the men and wait for news of Titoko's whereabouts. Then, hearing that he was camped at a place called Otautu, about ten miles up the Patea river, our whole force marched at midnight on March 13th in two columns, the left under Colonel St. John going up the right bank of the Patea river, and the right column under Colonel Whitmore following a track up the left bank to Otautu.

This was the most dismal march that I remember. The night was dark and a thick wet fog rolled over us from the river. We marched in single file, and had to halt every fifteen or twenty minutes to allow the rear end of the column to close up, and I had the greatest trouble to keep awake. At last as daylight appeared through the dense fog, the 8th division, Captain Gundry's Arawas, who were leading, formed up in open order and crept forward, with my division, No. 1, in support. I ordered my men to open out well and to lie down and let the Arawas run through them if the latter broke. The Arawas suddenly received a volley, and, as I expected, ran back through us, whereupon I, with Sub-Inspector Tom Withers, crawled forward leading our division through the still dense fog till we reached the edge of what seemed to be a low cliff. Immediately several of our men were knocked over by bullets from the foe hidden by the fog. I guessed that the Hau-haus were on lower ground at the foot of the cliff, and that we should be in good cover so long as we lay on the edge of the cliff. We could see nothing, and could only fire at where the sound of their guns seemed to come from; anyone getting up on his knees was quickly hit.

Just then Colonel Whitmore and several orderlies rushed forward, the colonel shouting to me, “Why don't you go on, sir? Charge instantly!” I called, “Down with you, Colonel, or you will be shot.” He seemed furious and began to talk, when one of his orderlies, a man named Savage, got shot through both sides of his jaw and fell against the colonel with blood pouring down his chest; another orderly fell across the colonel's feet; at the same moment another of my men who stood up was hit. I had pulled Whitmore down by this time, and he changed his tune to “Oh, my poor men—my poor men—retire: retire your company, sir.” I replied, “Somebody must hold this point, and we are all right here. Only the fools who stand up can be hit. The fog is lifting and we can ‘give them fits’ directly.” I added, “I wish, sir, that you would advance No. 6 on to the low ground to the right: that would flank our friends just below us.”

The colonel saw the force of this, and went off to give the order, and in ten minutes we were able to clear out the enemy, who retreated

Colonel Lyon. rapidly through the bush. We, however, could not pursue them, as we were hampered by many wounded. Captain William Gundry's young brother was mortally wounded in the groin, and it was only with the aid of my brandy flask that we managed to keep him alive as far as to Patea. His brother was heart-broken over his loss, and our return march was a melancholy procession.

A somewhat laughable incident occurred before we started. A string of men was observed moving on the hills on the far side of the Patea river, and our commander, thinking that they were foes, hurriedly gave orders to meet the supposed danger. It took a good field glass to convince him that the men were part of Colonel St. John's column trying to attract our attention.

Our next move was to beat up Titokowaru's rumoured refuge at the back of Te Ngaere swamp. We marched through bush country at the back of Mount Egmont, and reaching the swamp set to work to make hundreds of hurdles out of long saplings laid parallel and laced together with supple-jack. When these were ready we waited for a dark night and proceeded to lay half a mile of them across the swamp, which was a deep, quaking bog, with a deep, sluggish stream in the middle. Then crawling slowly over the hurdles in single file, we got all the men safely across before daylight without opposition from the enemy.

During the crossing our fine old one-armed soldier, Colonel Lyon, slipped off the long, springy hurdle into the stream. I happened to be just ahead of him, and hearing the splash turned quickly, and leaning over a toi-toi stump, reached out my carbine for him to lay hold of the muzzle, and drawing him to the side of the creek with the help of a couple of men, got him safely out. As soon as we reached solid ground I wrapped him in blankets, and setting him on a fallen tree with my flask in his one hand, told him to stay there till the hospital orderlies I would send arrived to look after him. I had to hurry on to my division, and joined our line waiting for orders to open fire on the huts now visible in the increasing light.

This native village was located on a clearing between the big swamp and a stretch of heavy bush about a hundred yards from the houses. As we got ready for a rush at the place, to our disgust and astonishment a voice from the group surrounding our commanding officer shouted a summons to the people of the village. Next minute we could see many men running into the big timber, while a voice answered from the houses that Titokowar's people had left on the previous day, and were then many miles away in safety in the bush.

We were ordered to advance, and two divisions went in pursuit of the men seen running from the settlement, but, of course, with little chance of bagging any of them. We were told next day that the scouts had overtaken and killed a few—old cripples probably, if there was any truth in the story.

It was common “gup” that the Civil Commissioner with the headquarters was responsible for the warning cry which let the rebels know that we were close to them.

The next day we re-crossed the swamp at a point some miles to the north, and continued our march along the same line of country that had been followed by General Chute in his famous march round the back of Mount Egmont to New Plymouth. We struck the coast at Waitara, and then marched to New Plymouth, news being received that trouble had broken out afresh on the east coast. The Government decided to send a strong column into the Urewera country, and my division was sent from New Plymouth to Auckland, and thence to Whakatane, from which place our column marched up the gorge of the Whakatane river into the heart of the Urewera country. It was here that Lieutenant White was killed while leading the advance. From Ahikereru the column debouched into the open country on the Taupo side of the Tuhua ranges, and camped on the left bank of the Rangitaeki river at a spot which we named Galatea.

Owing to defective commissariat arrangements our food supply was very bad at this camp for a week or two, and one day, at any rate, the lucky owners of spare tucker could get 2s. 6d. for one ration biscuit from extra hungry comrades.

It was while we were camped here that Te Kooti, passing Opepe on his way to the Kaimanawa hills, surprised a small party of Bay of Plenty mounted volunteers, and killed eleven out of fourteen of them, three men only escaping into the thick bush alongside their camp. One of them, the officer in charge of the party, was wounded in the foot as he ran into the scrub; when picked up by one of the parties which we sent to search for survivors, he seemed to be demented from his sufferings and fright. He was decorated for this affair.

Nearly all the young men who were killed at Opepe belonged to Tauranga families, and their death cast a sad gloom over the district. The party were surprised without their arms and belts and had no sentry out!

The field force was now ordered to move from Galatea to Matata, and at our first camp on that march a curious incident nearly cost me my commission. We had just got our tents pitched, and after our evening meal I spread a bundle of fern inside the tent, and three of my brother officers came in to share a bottle of brandy that a friend had sent to me. We had a pannikin of water and another pannikin to drink out of, and lying on the clean fern felt cosy and cheerful after the fatigues of the day. A passing senior officer poked his head into my tent to ask what the “joke” was. Of course I asked him to come in and passed the pannikin and bottle over to him, and he was very glad to have a good nip and join our gossip, lying on the fern and smoking a peaceful pipe. Then in a pause of the conversation he asked, “Does anyone know what has delayed those pack-horses?” As he addressed no one in particular and nobody spoke, I from a sense of the politeness due from a host replied, “Aua,” that being Maori for “I do not know”: most of us had got into the habit of frequently using Maori words in ordinary conversation.

I had nothing to do officially with the pack-horses, and under the circumstances did not think that the question referring to them could be meant officially; but to my surprise the senior officer was offended at my using a Maori term and placed me under arrest “for insubordination and want of respect to a senior officer,” refusing to listen to any explanation or apology.

Next day we continued our march to Matata, where I wrote to the officer commanding the field force, respectfully stating exactly what had occurred and that no want of respect had been intended by me, as could be attested by the other officers who were in my tent at the time I was placed under arrest.

After I had been under arrest for six weeks, Lieutenant-Colonel Harrington took over the command of the East Coast field force, and a board of officers assembled by his order to try me on the charge of gross misconduct and insolence to a superior officer.

Next day I appeared before the board under escort and pleaded “not guilty,” though I admitted having used the Maori expression to which my accuser, in ignorance of its meaning, had taken exception. The board having found the charges proved, Colonel Harrington proceeded to inform me that he had hoped that a severe reprimand would meet my case, but that the late commandant had sent him a memorandum to the effect that I had written a letter to headquarters on the subject of my arrest, in which I had aggravated my offence by referring most improperly to the officer who had placed me under arrest. He added that in order to maintain proper discipline he felt it his painful duty to dismiss me from the service with the loss of my commission.

At this stage I remembered that the rough copy of the letter he referred to was probably in my swag, and I requested to be allowed to fetch it that he might form his own judgment as to its supposed impropriety. After some hesitation the board allowed me to produce the copy. Having read it, Colonel Harrington passed it on to the officer who had placed me under arrest. When he had read it he walked over to me and shook my hand, and then the new commandant told me, with his hearty congratulations, to return to my duty.

As all the officers who took part in this farcical trial, with the exception of myself and perhaps one other, are dead, I will abstain from further comment.

Chapter VIII.

Tauranga—Whakatane—Inspector Branigan—Attack on Porere—Captain St. George's death—Colonel Fraser—Hard travelling—Captain Mair—Visit of the Duke of Edinburgh—Rotorua—Taupo—My father's death—My marriage—Many military changes—Tarawera.

From Matata the force marched to Tauranga for a short spell in winter quarters and to obtain a much-needed supply of clothing. Very few of us possessed a decently whole pair of trousers, and nearly all, officers and men alike, wore a kilt of some sort, mostly a shawl worn kilt fashion just long enough to reach the knee. In many cases a sack split lengthways was used in the same way as the shawls, so we presented a very ragged and war-worn appearance as we formed line of divisions on the sea front at Tauranga, before being marched to our camping ground on the open terrace above the town.

We had easy times in Tauranga for a couple of months. To the best of my recollection Colonel William Moule was in charge of the district, and Colonels Harrington and James Fraser of the field force.

The Arawa Division (No. 8 Maoris) in time became troublesome in town in spite of plenty of drill, and were accordingly sent to build a stockade at Whakatane. But they had quite got out of hand; I was despatched to take command of them and managed somehow to make them behave decently.

While I was there the late Inspector Branigan suddenly landed at Whakatane on a tour of inspection. He walked into camp and inquired where the men were. I told him, “In the swamp, cutting material for the stockade” (now nearly built). He wished to inspect them, so the “retire” was sounded, and presently the men came into view doubling up to camp. I asked for a quarter of an hour for the men to dress for parade and clean their rifles. Mr. Branigan wished them to parade at once, as he believed in constables being always ready for inspection, and I gave the order to my sergeant-major in accordance with his wish.

Now when in tents I allowed the men to keep their arms well oiled to prevent rust. On parade and for guard mounting the men always turned out smart and clean, with arms and belts bright and polished, but it may be imagined how things looked when they had to fall in with arms snatched from the tent poles and in their fatigue dress. Mr. Branigan said that in all his experience he had never seen arms kept in such a filthy condition, actually covered with grease and oil inside and out. I suggested that in wet weather and damp tents it was the best way to keep the arms fit and ready for instant use, and ten minutes would suffice to clean them bright inside and out.

Mr. Branigan stared very hard at me for venturing to express an opinion differing from his own, and I felt sure that his report of Whakatane would not be flattering to me. He was a very good officer in his own line, but bush-fighting and navvy work appeared to be somewhat outside of his experience.

About this time Te Kooti had built a fighting pa at Porere, south of Lake Taupo, and two divisions of armed constabulary and a strong native contingent under Renata Kawepo and Major Keepa, of Wanganui, were ordered to march against him, Colonel Macdonald being in chief command of the column.

In the attack on Porere on 4th October, 1869, I lost my best friend and comrade, Captain J. C. St. George, who fell dead, shot through the forehead, leading a charge against the pa. Jack St. George and his brother Fred were my chief chums from our first meeting in 1856. Jack joined the Hawkes Bay squadron of the Colonial Defence Force in the same month as myself, his brother joining the Forest Rangers in Taranaki, where he was wounde slightly in one of the scrimmages. Jack was buried on the shore of a beautiful little lake called Rotoaira at the foot of Ruapehu. Two years afterwards I brought his remains from there to be interred with military honours in the cemetery at Napier. He was brave to rashness, and the finest horseman I ever knew.

I was so much cut up at the news of his death that I was unconcerned when relieved of my command and sent to Tauranga under arrest, owing to the adverse report of Mr. Branigan, who objected to my method of keeping rust from the rifles by a liberal use of grease and oil.

On reaching Tauranga I found that my division, No. 1, was under orders for the front, and I was sent on advanced picket duty at once. Such trifles as greasy arms did not count when a fight was in prospect.

We got in touch with the enemy about 18 miles from Tauranga on the Tapapa track, but only our advanced guard was engaged; their main body scattered and made off to the westward so rapidly that we could not overtake them in the dense bush. On regaining the edge of the timber we struck a few huts, and seized an old native and questioned him for information. The enemy had evidently been there that morning, but we could get nothing out of him. Some of our natives rubbed noses with him, and claimed him as a relative. I had been interpreting for Colonel Fraser, and as we turned away from the old man, meaning to leave him unhurt, some young brutes among our natives suddenly emptied their carbines into his body before I noticed

Colonel Fraser. their intention or had a chance to save him. When reprimanded for their cruelty, they grumbled at the fuss “over a useless old man.”

As it was supposed that Te Kooti's men were making back to the Tuhua country, Colonel Fraser thought to intercept them somewhere about Rotorua or Ohinemutu, and called for volunteers for a rapid march to try to get ahead of them.

Captain Archibald Turner and I presently collected about forty Europeans and eighty natives, who all volunteered for the attempt. We started at once, carrying one day's rations and a blanket each, and marched rapidly, reaching the beach track to Maketu before sunset, mostly travelling at a sort of jog trot. Up to then the natives had kept the lead next to Turner and myself, but now the staying powers of the white men told. Gradually the natives, who during the afternoon had got a mile ahead, began to lag, and when we reached the mouth of the Maketu river a little before midnight, the white men had a long lead. The two Maori girls, however, who had come with their husbands, kept up with Turner and myself. When we threw ourselves down on the sand to wait for the ferry canoe, I fell asleep at once thoroughly exhausted, and was only aroused by the kindly-meant pommelling of one of the girls, afterwards well known as Sophia, the Rotorua guide. She gave me a pannikin of tea, and then helped me down to the ferry canoe, where I found that Turner had been looking for me, fearing that I should be left on the beach till next morning if he allowed the canoe to take him across the river.

When we reached Ohinemutu next afternoon, we found that Te Kooti had passed two hours earlier, and that Captain Gilbert Mair had had a running fight with his rearguard and slain several of them, among others a notorious ruffian, a half-caste named Baker.

Captain Mair fell ill, and orders came for me to relieve him and take charge of the Arawa contingent. Thus I happened to be in command of it when acting as escort for H.R.H. the Duke of Edinburgh, who had arrived in H.M.S. Galatea and come up with his suite to see the wonders of the Hot Lakes district and the Rotomahana Terraces. The visitors enjoyed themselves thoroughly, swimming in the hot pools and seeing Maori war-dances and hakas; and copying my shawl costume went about in kilts with bare legs. Lieutenant Herbert Way, the subaltern lately attached to the contingent, thought fit to follow the fashion, but not being used to it got his long, thin legs so terribly sunburnt and swollen that he was laid up for a fortnight.

The Duke was well tattooed on the arms, breast and legs with coloured flowers, birds and dragons, in the Japanese style, but Lord Charles Beresford was the most elaborately tattooed man I have ever seen. He had coloured designs, besides the usual nautical emblems, anchors, ships and dolphins, all over his body. He was of medium height, very powerfully built, and of good figure.

On parting the Duke gave me a signed photograph of himself in memory of his visit, and expressed himself as greatly pleased with the arrangements for his comfort, protection and amusement. He seemed to be somewhat shy and awkward in manner compared with the members of his suite.

Soon after this visit I was recalled to Tauranga. Colonel James Fraser, after a short illness, had died of typhoid, and I had to take charge of the district until another senior officer should be appointed to the command, which did not happen for three or four months. Then I was again sent to Rotorua to patrol the open country about Kaiteriria and intercept parties of Te Kooti's followers, who were supposed to be passing between the Urewera country and Waikato, or the “King Country,” as it was called.

H.R.H. The Duke of Edinburgh

Hearing that a strong party, armed and led by one of Te Kooti's chief supporters, intended to go through, I made my plans for surprising and capturing them, and duly forwarded the information and my plan of action to the officer commanding at Tauranga on the Bay of Plenty. This brought the officer in a hurry to Rotorua, and sending for me he told me that unless I wished to lose my commission I was on no account to fire on Te Kooti's men, but was to arrest them without bloodshed, as the Government wished to avoid any further fighting.

After receiving these (to my mind silly) instructions, I took no further steps to arrest Te Kooti's people, for I was certain that they would fight, and equally certain that I should give them shot for shot and volley for volley, regardless of whatever blame might follow my action.

My next move was to Taupo, where we built a redoubt close to the outlet of the Waikato river from the lake. For two years the chief employment of the armed constabulary was road-making, and the officers and sergeants became experts at grading and forming roads and building bridges and culverts.

Early in this year (1872) my father died at the farm at Paingatotara, and family affairs necessitated my going on leave for three months. On Christmas Day, 1872, as the Maori war was ended and peace had been maintained for the past twelve months, I was married at Napier by the bishop of Waiapu to Marion Carr. She was the only daughter of an old friend who had died two years before, and we had long been engaged. I took my wife up to Taupo, where we lived in the redoubt. In spite of the absence of female society, she was well contented with our surroundings. Indeed, the varying interests and mild excitements of a soldier's life, in a country with a delightful climate and full of natural wonders, made monotony impossible.

We saw many tourists and travellers, who were frequently people of wide experience and information and left pleasant memories behind them.

A cousin of my wife, who was engaged to my old comrade, Dr. Murray Gibbs, and later two of my sisters, spent some months with us, and helped to make our life very pleasant and full of interest. We made excursions on horseback to places of romantic beauty and startling wonders, such as Roto-Mahana, Tokaano, and the Huka Falls, and enjoyed boating on the great lake and bathing in the numerous hot springs and creeks. Indeed, time usually seemed too short for our many schemes of interest and recreation.

In the winter of 1875, matters affecting the military force of the colony were very unsettled: officers were continually transferred from one post or district to another for no important reason, and they and the colony were thus put to needless expense and inconvenience. Major Scannell was transferred to Waikato; I had to move to Opepe to take charge of the district headquarters. Four months later Scannell was sent back to Taupo, and I was ordered to the Tauranga district, commanded by Lieut.-Colonel J. M. Roberts, where for six months or so we lived close to Ohinemutu at a very pleasant spot named Poutu. I was once more in charge of the Arawa contingent, who were employed on road work. We enjoyed the six months we spent here, having plenty of riding, and seeing many tourists and friends who came to visit the beautiful Rotomahana Terraces.

From Ohinemutu the road party was shifted to Oropi, where we camped. We stayed here about twelve months, and I built a nice two-roomed cottage with a verandah, which was far more comfortable than the tent in which we had to live at first. At that time Tauranga was a very pleasant town. Its situation on the splendid harbour, with the fine mount guarding the entrance, is extremely beautiful, and the townsmen and adjacent settlers were a respectable and reputable community, untroubled in those days by the noisy vapourings of place-seekers and spoilers.

April, 1877, saw us transferred to Tarawera in the Taupo district, and I bought a cottage there, as we were likely to remain for twelve months. I was in charge of road work again, and there was plenty of that to do in order to get a coach road through from Pohue to Tapuaeharuri at the north end of Lake Taupo. I liked the work, and on my daily visits to the several road gangs I always carried my gun, and used to secure plenty of game.

Tarawera is on a terrace in the deep gorge of the Wai-pongo river, and originally consisted of a few huts surrounded by an old stockade. It is the half-way rest-house for the night of the Napier-Taupo mail coach, and there is a good hot spring in the vicinity. We saw plenty of the travelling public, and time never hung heavily. My men were a quiet, well-behaved lot, and I think that the three years we spent there were the most enjoyable time I had while in the service of the Government.

Chapter IX

Te Whiti stirs up trouble—His influence with the natives—Parihaka—Maori superstitions—Murder of Miss Dobie—Strong measures—Dispersing the natives—Effects of Mr. Bryce's firmness—Discomforts of our camp—Opunake—Road to Rotorua—Alexandra—King Tawhio meets Mr. Bryce—Hursthouse and Newsham—Te Kooti saves Hursthouse's party—Mahuki's attack on Alexandra—We defeat it—Te Kooti thanked—Waikato—Serious illness.

During 1880 the Maoris at Parihaka, near the foot of Mount Egmont, began to give so much trouble, under their leader and prophet, Te Whiti, by ploughing up paddocks belonging to settlers, destroying the fences and putting others across the roads and highways, that the government decided to put a stop by force to their lawless conduct. As the turbulent natives were about 1,500 in number and possessed of arms, six divisions of the A. C. Force and nearly 300 volunteers were assembled at a spot called Pungarehu, about a mile and a half from Parihaka, and strong patrols kept on the road daily to try to stop or prevent the damage done to settlers' property.

I was ordered to Parihaka on 1st September, 1880, and leaving my wife with friends at New Plymouth, I reported myself at Pungarehu in the middle of the month. Next morning I took twenty men to stop, and, if necessary, arrest, a gang of Maoris fencing across the main road to New Plymouth. There was always a rough and tumble bout of fisticuffs and cudgel play on these occasions, and their prophet Te Whiti must have had great power over them to prevent these bitter and daring natives from resorting to firearms to resist our men. I thought that a sudden attack would be made on our camp, and we heard that

Te Whiti Te Whiti had sent to the Waikato tribes for a supply of ammunition. A big meeting of natives from distant parts was held at Parihaka every month, when the prophet addressed the crowd in very ambiguous language, of which our interpreters vainly tried to gain the real meaning.

It is characteristic of the Maori race that they readily place unquestioning faith in the supernatural powers claimed by their prophets and leaders. I have known hundreds of them to charge in close column, holding up their right hand open with palms to their front, and shouting “Hau! Hau!” in the belief that their bare hands would stop our bullets, and only retreating when the gaps in their ranks convinced them that something was wrong with that particular karakia.

A Maori war-party is always on the watch for omens, and the cry of “Aitua!” will generally cause an immediate stampede of even seasoned fighting men, as I learned to my cost when I had a narrow escape of losing my life in our first attack on Ngatapa.

On 25th November, Miss Mary Dobie was murdered by a young Maori when she was out sketching near Opunake, and as her murderer took refuge in Parihaka from the police, we officers at Pungarehu thought that the murder was possibly the arranged signal for open rebellion. However, the murderer, a man named Te Tehui, was arrested, tried and hanged in due course, about two months after the crime was committed.

Early in January, 1881, Mr. Bryce retired from the Ministry of Defence, and the Hon. William Rolleston took his place. I believe that this gentleman was an authority on educational matters and a fair amateur farmer, but he did not know anything about military matters, or about Maoris and their ways.

Of course Te Whiti was well posted in regard to ministerial doings in Wellington; the Maori members of the House took care of that; and doubtless the government of the day was anxious to avoid any risk of bringing on another native war. Anyhow, the stupid business of knocking down the fences erected by the Maoris, and seizing their ploughs and bullocks when they broke up a settler's paddock, went on for eight or nine months. Then Mr. Bryce again took charge of affairs. On the morning of 5th November, 1881, four hundred armed constabulary in column of divisions marched into the middle of Parihaka and made prisoners of the leading men, Te Whiti, Tohu, and Hiroki. They then proceeded to camp in open order on the rising ground in front of the village, ready at a moment's notice to suppress any attempt at insubordination by the Hau-hau community.

Several hundred volunteers were camping on the low spurs commanding the village on the north side, and strong pickets were told off to remain under arms all night. I was in command of the guard over the prisoners. Everything went off without a hitch, the big population of the native settlement quite understanding that any attempt at hostile action would be hopeless under the concentrated fire of the force surrounding them.

The next day, Sunday, was a pouring wet day, and not at all pleasant for over a thousand troops without shelter. On the Monday we pitched tents on the various camping grounds. The chief prisoners had meanwhile been taken to our main camp at Pungarehu, and we proceeded to collect some three hundred stand of firearms, and nearly as many more on the following day; at the same time we made prisoners of Titokowaru, Rangi, and five other chiefs, and about eighty of the common people.

In the following week we drafted out the natives who belonged to distant settlements. I marched 350 men, women and children belonging to Waitara down to New Plymouth, and then took them by train to Waitara. There I turned them loose, to the alarm of some of the settlers; but the natives promised me that they would at once disperse to their homes, which they did.

I returned that night to Parihaka, and next day took another big party to Opunake, bound for Wanganui. In this way we soon reduced the number of natives (over 2,200) to the six hundred that properly belonged to Parihaka. By 15th November Mr. Bryce, having put an end to the Parihaka danger, was able to return to Wellington, and though the natives continued to attend the monthly meetings, the strangers always returned to their own settlements when the meetings were over.

Knowing that I should be stationed at Parihaka for some time with my division to keep the natives in good behaviour, I now had a whare built for myself there. I intended to let my wife come to the camp as soon as matters were fairly settled, for boarding in New Plymouth was too costly for our purse, and I was confident that the natives would give no more trouble while Bryce was Defence Minister.

The ground on which our camp was situated had been bush, and had plenty of logs and stumps on it, and the camp swarmed with “Maori bugs,” as the men called them. The Maori's name for these horrible insects is kekerengu. They are about one inch and a half long and resemble a black cockroach in appearance. They used to crawl up the inside of the tents and cluster round the top of the tent-pole, and when a breeze shook the canvas the creatures emitted a most horrible smell of at least a thousand bug power. By burning a kerosene-soaked rag in the tent one could make them drop down, but then they got into the blankets and clothing, so it was voted best to leave them alone.

While we had charge of old Titokowaru as a prisoner, he went on “hunger strike,” but when after two days Dr. O'Carroll produced a flexible tube to pump porridge into him, the threatened indignity broke down his resolve to starve himself.

On 27th February I received orders to march on the following day with one hundred men to Opunake, and to ship from there to Waikato, so we were busy packing up till late into the night. Next morning we started in pouring rain, which obliged us to leave our tents standing, as it would never do to pack wet tents. We reached Opunake at 7.30 p.m., and then found that we should have to wait nearly a week for steamship transport. We left by s.s. Stella for Manakau on 4th March, and got a special train next day (Sunday) for Ngaruwahia. From there a river steamer took us to Cambridge, where we arrived before daylight on Monday morning.

We, the 6th and 7th divisions, marched on the 13th for the road camp, and reached Waitaki after four days' march in heavy rain. There was no reason for marching in such bad weather, but in those days the A.C. Force were supposed to be weather-proof, and to act when required as if they were bullet-proof.

We began making the road through to Rotorua on the 20th, cutting down the timber for a width of two chains. The country was rough and broken and covered with blocks of a very light volcanic rock which gave out a metallic sound when struck with a tool. We had much trouble in getting a water supply for the camp, as the creeks in this part ran in deep, narrow gullies and often underground for long distances, the country being severely cracked up by volcanic action. We could only get sufficient room for camping on the top of the ridges, the sides being generally too steep for pitching tents. However, I found a place where by using a powerful ram and nearly 300 feet of iron pipe, I raised the water 100 feet up from the gully to a 500 gallon tank placed high enough to be reached by a water-cart.

We worked on this road until June, when all the men were ordered back to Cambridge, and shortly after I was sent to take charge of Alexandra, relieving Captain Capel. I was pleased to have this shift, for Alexandra was a good place for pheasants and rabbits and promised good shooting, and I was glad to be near my good friend, Mr. J. D. Hill, who owned a large trading concern there.

Alexandra is on the boundary line of the (so-called) King Country, and only separated by the Waipa river from the Maori king's town of Whata-whata-hoe, about two miles from our redoubt.

At this time the government was very anxious to establish more friendly relations with King Tawhio, in the hope of bringing about a greater degree of security for the Waikato townships and the isolated farmers. The latter, located near the boundary of the King Country, ran a special risk of losing life or property in the event of an outbreak of the hostile feelings still cherished by a very large body of the Ngati-maniapoto tribe, who gave refuge to Te Kooti and all the murderers and natives “wanted” for theft, and other malcontents and scalliwags. I was well aware that I had been selected for this command on account of the minister's favourable opinion of my ability to act quickly on my own initiative should serious trouble arise, while my experience of Maoris and my knowledge of their language would make me cautious in acting on reports from excited and frightened people.

Very shortly after my arrival, a half-caste named Barlow, who had enemies among the Maoris, came to Alexandra though warned that he did so at risk of his life. Next day he was fired at in the township by an unseen hand. I arrested Barlow and sent him under escort to Hamilton, and reported the occurrence to Inspector McGovern, requesting him to prevent this man and certain others from coming to Alexandra, as they might cause dangerous excitement ending in bloodshed.

On 4th October, at 3.30 a.m., we saw the great comet, a most wonderful sight on account of its great size and brilliancy.

About the end of the month Mr. Butler and I arranged a very important meeting between King Tawhio and Mr. Bryce, the Defence Minister, for the settlement of many matters, to promote a more friendly feeling on the side of the natives, and to permit Europeans to pass unmolested through the King Country on their way to Kawhia or Mokau.

For the next six weeks or so old Tawhio was constantly in our quarters, often dining with us. We always had two or three of his followers with him, and sometimes his wife; and we found our position as hosts most unpleasant, for the old schemer wanted to collar anything which he saw in the house that took his fancy. Of course my wife put most of the ornaments in our sitting-room out of sight, but we had to be careful not to offend the old scamp. He seemed a curious mixture of cunning and childish greed and self-importance. He seldom said anything; but his secretary, Te Whero, a big chief, would tell us that he would like us to give him such and such things. The Government gave him a free railway pass, and offered him a pension of £300 a year and to build a house for him; but he finally refused everything but the pass, evidently believing that by holding back he would get more valuable offers.

About six hundred of his people assembled to meet the Defence Minister at Whata-whata-hoe, and of course there was much talk with

Captain Wilson Hursthouse, C.E. but little immediate result; still the after effects of the meeting were in the direction of bringing influential chiefs such as Wahanui and others into a more friendly attitude towards the Government.

On 5th February, 1883, Mr. Bryce, with Mr., Mrs. and Miss Rolleston, and others arrived from Kawhia by way of Hikorangi. Mr. Rolleston, his wife and daughter left next day for Auckland, but Mr. Bryce and the remainder of the party stayed at Alexandra for the purpose of meeting Te Kooti.

Mr. Bryce duly met the rebel leader a week later at a kainga called Maunga-rongo, and promised him an amnesty for his past crimes on condition of his good behaviour in the future. Many people found fault with this action of Mr. Bryce; but it was a wise step to take, for it practically insured the peace of the colony, and was shortly to result in Te Kooti saving the lives of Captain Wilson Hursthouse and Mr. Newsham.

On 12th March these two gentlemen with a friendly chief, named Te Rerenga, started to go through the King Country to Mokau, but were turned back by a party of Te Whiti's followers who called themselves “Te Kau-marua” (The Twelve). On hearing of the occurrence Mr. Bryce came from Auckland to see Wahanui and arrange that Hursthouse and his companions should be given safe conduct through to Mokau. This was agreed to, and Mr. Bryce returned to Auckland the following day.

Hursthouse and Newsham left for Mokau under the protection of a party of Ngati-maniapoto on the 19th, and the same day their chief, Whahanui, sent me word that the white men had been seized by the Kau-marua, who also had taken Wetere prisoner.

Next day we learned that the prisoners were heavily bound with bullock chains and were shamefully treated, being thrown on the ground in an open shed, with no food but a few raw potatoes, and only some blood-stained water in a filthy bucket for drink. I reported to Mr. Bryce and asked for reinforcements and leave to rescue the prisoners by force; but on the 23rd news was sent to me that Te Kooti with a party of Wahanui's tribe had on that day liberated Hursthouse and his two companions, who would be escorted to Alexandra by Te Kooti's people on the following day.

Two days afterwards a report reached me that the Kau-marua, led by Te Mahuki, intended to attack Alexandra and tie up all the Europeans and loot the town, so I sent my mounted men to ask the officer commanding the Awamutu cavalry volunteers to come to my assistance immediately. I also sent to Cambridge for some constabulary, but could only get six, who reached me by daylight next morning. At 7 a.m. on 26th March, 1883, four of the Awamutu horsemen whom I had sent to watch the road at the bridge over the Waipa, rode in with the news that a body of mounted natives was approaching. I quickly stationed fifteen men with fixed bayonets in a shop at one end of our short main street, and another fifteen in a building at the other end of the street, a hundred yards off; the rest of my men (about twenty) I sent into cover midway between the others. These last were in their shirt sleeves and provided with short lengths of light rope, and had orders to pull the attacking raiders off their horses and tie their hands.

At 8 a.m. Mahuki with twenty-six followers galloped into the town, and loudly called on the white people to surrender. In a moment the raiders were between two lines of bayonets. As they turned to escape, they were pulled or knocked off their horses and had their hands tied behind their backs, with but a few blows struck and a bit of rough wrestling. I marched them straight into our redoubt, inform- ing them that I would shoot on the spot any of them who resisted or attempted to escape.

The townspeople, the women especially, were wild with joy, for they had been much frightened, not knowing if my plan would be successful. However, I was able to report to Mr. Bryce that I had caught and tied up the whole gang of the Kau-marua and their leader Mahuki.

Mr. Bryce, who arrived next day, having come by train as far as Te Awamutu, was much pleased at the capture of all the boastful Kaumarua; and as he had brought some police with him and a sack of hand-cuffs, we marched the prisoners to the train at Awamutu and started them off to Auckland in charge of a guard of fifteen men and two sergeants. I am sorry to have to add that at the subsequent trial of these men the sentences seemed to me to be shockingly light in view of the cowardly cruelty with which they had treated Wilson Hursthouse and his companions.

Te Kooti came into Alexandra with forty followers to see Mr. Bryce and receive his thanks for his prompt delivery of Hursthouse and party. Te Kooti got very drunk, but his men kept sober and took him back to Kopua next morning. Mr. Bryce also went to Kopua to see Wahanui, and then returned to Auckland the following morning.

On 3rd April I handed over charge to Captain Capel and went to Auckland, taking eleven natives with me, to give evidence in regard to Mahuki and his gang. I returned to Alexandra on the 9th, and Mr. Bryce came back on the 11th. On the 17th Mr. Bryce, Hursthouse, Butler, Lewis, Wilkinson, Newsham and two orderlies left for New Plymouth by way of Mokau to open up the road. I was to be ready to go to their assistance with a strong party of my men, if news came that they had been obstructed, but on the 21st Captain Messenger tele- graphed that Bryce and his party had reached New Plymouth without mishap, and Mr. Wilkinson and the orderlies and horses had returned from Mokau.

On 11th May I turned out a guard of honour to receive his Excellency Sir William Jervois, and the Governor and party inspected the detachment and redoubt, leaving in the afternoon.

On 20th May I was much grieved to hear of the death of Major Withers in Auckland. He was a gallant soldier, a warm friend, and a good comrade. His death made it necessary for Colonel Lyon to take charge of Auckland, and I was sent to Waikato.

A couple of months after this I was taken seriously ill with peritonitis and hernia, due, according to the diagnosis of the doctors who attended me, to internal injury and strain suffered in the rough and tumble struggle of arresting Mahuki's gang, in which I was foolish enough to take an active part. For eight months I had a hard fight for my life, and when I was able to return to duty I was permanently crippled. My former physical strength and activity were gone; I was unable to lift a weight, run, jump, or ride a horse; and it was intimated to me that the Military Pension Act did not provide for a case of injury sustained otherwise than by bullet or weapon of war. I do not care to write further of this protracted period of suffering and anxiety.

It was the end of February, 1884, when I returned to my post at Alexandra, and again took up the routine of road work and drill. Things went on without any incident of special interest to the end of the year, when we were transferred to Opunake, and took possession of the quarters on the cliff overlooking the little bay.

Chapter X.

Opunake—Training artillery—Interview with Mr. Ballance—More trouble with Te Whiti—In command of the Field Artillery—Accident to my wife—Point Halswell—Visit of H.M.S. Nelson—Artillery Board—New Government—Retirement of Sir George Whitmore—Discharge of officers—Sheriff of Auckland—Arrest of Hinckley—Mr. Seddon—“Retrenched.”

Opunake is unpleasantly windy; there is usually a gale from the sea, and flax was the only shelter that we could grow for the protection of the garden. Even such hardy trees as poplar and willow will not live near the coast, though they may perhaps be grown a few miles inland. However, under the shelter of the flax we grew beautiful geraniums and pelargoniums.

There was a change of government about this time. Mr. Ballance became premier, and many changes and alterations were made with regard to the military force of the colony. Peace being assured with the Maoris, the attention of the country had turned to the question of defending the chief ports against a foreign enemy. Big guns were imported for the forts, and it became necessary to train artillery-men to work them. The authorities decided to select the men required for the Field and Garrison Artillery from the Armed Constabulary, to draft men of the old Field Force or A.C. who were of suitable height and weight to the civil police, and to discharge the rest.

It was an easy matter for our officers and men to acquire a good working knowledge of artillery drill, but it was obviously necessary that an expert artillery officer capable of supervising the minutiæ of drill and munitions connected with the new work should be appointed to the chief command of the new force. The Imperial Government ought to have been asked to lend or recommend the officer required; but with that want of common sense and patriotism which is a persistent characteristic of the people who in England and her dependencies dub themselves Liberals, our Government appointed an ex-subaltern of Engineers, who had wandered into the colony, to the command of the artillery and the new torpedo corps, with the rank of colonel. He did not teach us anything worth knowing.

About this time I was startled by receiving a letter from head-quarters informing me that by direction of the Minister of Defence, Mr. Ballance, my “services would be dispensed with as from date.” I at once went to Wellington, and having with difficulty obtained an interview with Mr. Ballance, I demanded to know if my discharge from the service was in consequence of an adverse report from the officer commanding the New Zealand forces. The Minister was somewhat indignant at being questioned by such an unimportant individual as myself, but finally he admitted that my surmise was correct.

I submitted to him that if guilty of any military fault I was entitled to a specific accusation, and that an opportunity of replying to it ought to be allowed to me. Mr. Ballance would not admit that I had any “right” as claimed; he consented, however, to give me three days' grace before deciding on my discharge.

I forthwith telegraphed to three civilians of known respectability and position, asking them to wire their personal recollections of my actions in the matters referred to by my accuser. On the following day, after over two hours of obstinate demand in his office, I wrung a written statement from my accuser, Sir George Whitmore. This and the replies to my telegrams I laid before Mr. Ballance, who when he had carefully perused and compared the documents, simply directed me to return to my duties at Opunake.

Lieut.-Col. J. M. Roberts. About a week afterwards the Gazette recorded my promotion to the rank of major, and again I was as a “bird escaped out of the snare.”

Mr. Ballance was an honest and just man, worthy of the honour and respect accorded to his memory, but he was handicapped by humanitarian ideas, and lacked the firmness and tenacity of Mr. Bryce.

Towards the end of 1885 the Ballance Government allowed Te Whiti, Titokowaru, and the other leaders detained as prisoners by Mr. Bryce under very easy conditions after the dispersion of Parihaka, to return there. Forthwith they renewed the monthly gatherings and preachments, adding to their programme a march out in force for several days, going as far as Hawera and camping to the great annoyance of the settlers on private land. Early in January, 1886, they started the game of “marching round the walls of Jericho,” and on the 15th Te Whiti and Titoko with six hundred natives, of whom 250 were on horseback, passed through Opunake, having first encircled the township. They tried to march round my quarters, but as my fences abutted on the cliff, they could not get round without entering the garden, which I would not permit.

They continued to annoy the settlers for many months, until in July we arrested Te Whiti, Titokowaru, Ngahina, and seven others, and committed them all for trial, sending them under guard in the s.s. Hinemoa to Wellington. I do not remember the result of their trial, but I suppose they were bound over to keep the peace, with the usual alternative of a term of imprisonment in default.

Early in October Colonel Roberts, N.Z.C., was ordered to take command of the Auckland district, leaving me in command at Opunake.

Shortly afterwards I was offered and accepted the command of the Field Artillery, but as regarded the Opunake portion of the force, the name was the only difference made, for all the artillery munitions were kept in Wellington. However, watching the vagaries of the followers of Te Whiti, and road work, kept the men busy enough.

My wife had now been laid up with a badly strained knee, the result of a trap accident, for over four months; and though three doctors had attended the case, using plaster of Paris bandages, etc., no improvement had resulted; she could not use her leg at all. Now a neighbour who was aware of her crippled state, asked her to let him treat the knee with rhus toxicodendron, a homœopathic remedy, assuring her that if she persevered with the treatment which he prescribed, she would be able to walk in two weeks. My wife consented, and actually did walk without much difficulty at the end of a fortnight.

Early in January, 1887, I was ordered to Wellington to take charge of the artillery stationed in the forts at Point Halswell near the entrance of the harbour.

We rented a house in Adelaide Road which I afterwards bought, but I lived mostly at the Heads, as Point Halswell was usually called. The men stationed there were employed in building the forts, gun pits, and bomb-proof chambers, Lieut.-Colonel Boddam, the recently appointed ex-subaltern of Royal Engineers, being in general supervision of the work. I remember a curious oversight on the part of the person responsible for the building plans of these chambers. The walls were of solid concrete reinforced with heavy railway irons, and when the largest of the bomb-proof walls had reached the height intended, it was discovered that no provision had been made for windows in the rear wall for light and ventilation. I had to keep four men at work for many weeks cutting a couple of window holes with cold chisels, a horrible job for the workers' eyes and fingers.

I greatly appreciated the change of employment, and was interested in the study of gunnery, torpedoes and mines; but I still felt the effects of the illness from which I had suffered at Alexandra; and the efforts which were still being made to prejudice Mr. Ballance against me caused me some anxiety, though fortunately for me they were without effect.

About this time my wife had a very severe and prolonged illness. The doctors believed that she was suffering from Addison's disease and gave no hope of her recovery; she was much wasted and very weak for more than a year.

On 19th February, 1888, H.M.S. Nelson, Admiral Tryon's flagship, arrived in harbour, and during her stay kept things lively with dinners, parties, balls, and inspection parades.

In May, Colonel Roberts came from Auckland to hold a board to draft new regulations for the artillery. Major Messenger, Captain Colman and I were on the board, and we had plenty of work for a month, considering and making arrangements with regard to such matters as rates of pay, strength, uniform, and discipline. We got our new uniforms from England about this time at a cost of £70 apiece.

In this year there was another political upheaval. Mr. Fergus became Minister of Defence; and I think it was at this time that the long period of misrule established under the maxim of “spoils to the victors” commenced. For over twenty years New Zealand was governed by a cabinet who kept possession of the Treasury Bench by aid of the deciding votes of a fourth of the population. These voters, who form the more ignorant portion of the community, are easily influenced by a liberal use of catch phrases such as “trust the people,” “the toilers of the land,” “the workers who create all the wealth of the country,” and many like expressions, which have long formed the stock-in-trade of candle-box orators and the drones of the labour unions, and are believed by the manual labourer to apply only to himself.

Looking back for nearly thirty years, it seems to me that the outstanding result of twenty years' legislation under a so-called Liberal government is the creation of a bitter and unreasoning hatred on the part of the younger employees against all wage-payers. This regretable fact can be traced, I think, to the presence, for most of that period, in the House of Representatives of a number of vote-hunting chatterers chosen from an ill-educated class lacking legislative capacity.

At the end of January, 1888, Sir George Whitmore retired from the command of the colonial forces, and Colonel Boddam resigned that of the artillery.

Within a month the Government, having obtained the loan of an Imperial officer to take command of the artillery, dispensed with the services of Colonel Roberts, Major Tuke, myself, Major Scannell, and five other officers, several non-commissioned officers being promoted to carry on the duties. Colonel Roberts was made stipendiary magistrate at Auckland. I was appointed sheriff of Auckland; but the remuneration, which depended solely on fees, was so poor that it did not provide a living income. We rented a large apple orchard beyond Remuera, in the hope of making a profit by the sale of the fruit, but with apples selling at one shilling a case, our orchard did not pay expenses.

We made many friends in Auckland, and our nearest neighbours at Remuera, Captain H— and family, were a source of much pleasure during our stay in the district.

The failure of apples as a help to provide an income and the distance of our house from my offices, decided us to shift our quarters into Auckland, and at the end of the year I was placed in charge of the government arms store and magazines, at a salary of £200 a year.

On 25th April, 1891, while I was sheriff, I had an exciting experience in arresting under writ of the Supreme Court an absconding Yankee skipper named Hinckley. His ship had been seized for a debt of £3,500, and he concealed himself on board a big American ship lying at the wharf. When I boarded this vessel with my bailiff, the captain refused to allow me to search his ship for the debtor, on the ground that his deck was American territory, and his flag protected all Americans on board. I insisted that my authority was good within a radius of three miles from British land. While we argued the point, my bailiff, unknown to the captain, searched the ship and discovered his quarry in a little dark cabin at the end of a long passage between decks. Presently my bailiff showed himself among the hands working cargo and made me a sign; so I left the captain, saying I would look into the saloon for form's sake. As soon as I was down the companion steps, the bailiff and I slipped along the passage which he showed me, and I knocked gently at a locked door at the end of it. As the door was cautiously opened an inch I pushed in and hustled the man I wanted into the passage, in spite of his resistance and the outcries of his wife. Then as the bailiff and I filled up the passage behind him, we ran him down the passage and over the gangway, on to the wharf and into the waiting cab, before the bystanders realised what we were doing. By this time the American consul appeared with the captain of the ship, and threatened dire results if I dared to profane the sanctity of the flag overhead. However, I had got my prisoner and did not care for international complications. In the afternoon my prisoner found the required bail, and I released him in time for him to rejoin his wife on board the American before she sailed.

We had a pleasant time in Auckland. The Governor, Lord Onslow, liked the place and spent much time there; and owing to a kind memorandum from Lord Salisbury to his Excellency, we were often at parties at Government House.

On Saturdays we frequently chartered a small steamer in conjunction with a party of friends, and went out to the entrance of the harbour for a day's fishing, and usually caught hundreds of medium-sized schnapper. On our return to the wharf there were always plenty of people who were willing to accept our spare fish.

Altogether we had much reason for regret when another turn of fortune's wheel obliged us to leave Auckland.

About this time the department of Justice thought that if they made the registrar of the Supreme Court in Auckland perform the duties of sheriff, they might occasionally pick up a fat fee that otherwise would go into my pocket; so, to the disgust of the registrar and my loss, they saddled him with the sheriff's work, in addition to his own.

On 5th December, 1890, the general election returned the Ballance Government to office, and Mr. R. J. Seddon took the portfolio of Defence Minister. Alas! for my chance of escape. My little billet was certain to be wanted for a man of the “right colour.”

Mr. Seddon arrived on a tour of inspection in May, accompanied by the usual staff of anxious officials. He walked into my office, ignoring my civil greeting in his boorish way, and addressed his questions and remarks to the arm-cleaners. On this hint I returned to my desk, and in spite of the kindly meant signs and whispers of the officers who were with him, I took no further notice of him till he repassed through my office, when, of course, I paid his official rank the compli- ment of standing to “attention.”

A few days after this I received notice that I was “retrenched,” and my billet was duly bestowed on a man more in sympathy with the Government.

Chapter XI.

Transfer to the Chatham Islands—My duties there—Waitangi—The lagoons—Fish, flesh and fowl—The Residency—Many pleasant neighbours—Trying climate—We build a church and reading room—Mr. Foster—The wool trips—Visit of H.M.S. Goldfinch—Icebergs sighted—Checking the liquor traffic—Heta and Paki—Visit of H.M.S. Ringdove—Boat building—Death of Mr. Ballance—“Honest John Bryce.”

Of course we moved into a cheap house, and I was looking in various quarters for work, when news came of an outbreak of trouble among the Maoris at the Chatham Islands. The Premier, remembering my knack in the management of natives, asked me if I would go to the Islands and relieve Mr. Deighton, the resident magistrate. Mr. Ballance could only offer £200 a year salary and a residence, and to send me down by a Government steamer. The salary was miserably inadequate, but “half a loaf,” etc.

He further promised that I would not be asked to remain there for more than three or four years, and that when I had restored peace and order on the Islands, a more suitable district, carrying a larger salary, would be given to me in the North Island of New Zealand.

Before leaving for the Chathams I was presented with a sheaf of appointments and commissions. Besides being resident magistrate, I was postmaster, collector of customs, registrar of births, deaths and marriages, receiver of wrecks, licensing officer, and paymaster; and I had not been very long on the Islands before I was the principal doctor, engineer of wharfs, bridges and roads, referee of all connubial disputes and quarrels, etc., etc.

Waitangi, Chatham Islands.

We were landed at Waitangi roadstead, Chatham Islands, on 2nd September, 1891, with a couple of boatloads of luggage, and were very kindly received by the islanders and one or two of the chief Maoris. The natives, however, who were mostly connected with Taranaki tribes, were all followers of Te Whiti, and with the exception of Pango-Pango, a leading man, and one or two of the very few surviving aboriginal Maoris, were generally surly and aloof in manner.

Waitangi Bay is a very open anchorage, and the only harbour is Port Hutt in the north-west corner of the main island, but there are only two or three settlers in that vicinity. There are two villages on the island, a store and public house at Te One, about three miles east of Waitangi along the beach, and the local school, church and library.

A store, a public house, the local court-house and post office, and a lock-up comprised the buildings on the beach at Waitangi. Most of the Maori population had their huts a little distance back from the beach on higher ground. The Residency was on a bit of table-land overlooking the bay from the west.

We found the climate to be mild but very damp. There is very little frost in winter and only on some higher points inland, but hail often falls and sometimes sleet.

Quite half of the area of the island is occupied by two huge lagoons in the middle. These swarm with eels, and at one time had thousands of duck on them. The destruction of cover round the lagoons, and the influx of vast numbers of black swan seem to have driven most of the grey duck to other islands. The swamps have pukeho in numbers, supposed have been blown over from New Zealand, but there are no kiwi or wood-hens. Very fine specimens of the New Zealand pigeon are occasionally seen, but they are never numerous.

There are immense quantities of blue cod, hapuku and tarakihi on the fishing grounds, but no schnapper, and the islets off shore are the breeding places of albatross and mutton birds.

The aki-aki timber, of which there used to be a good supply, is a kind of sandal-wood which retains its strong scent even when kept for many years. If shaved or cut with a knife, it emits a strong but pleasant perfume, however old or dry it may be, but unlike the sandal-wood of commerce, it has no perfume unless a fresh surface is exposed to the air. When used as a fencing post the heart timber appears to be immune from decay. A German settler who had lived on the island for fifty years once said to me, “Aki-aki will last for ever: I have tried it!”

In the timbered parts of the Chathams there are many karaka trees, which grow to a great size. There is also plenty of flax and kareao or supple-jack.

I caught a pair of torpedo skates on the rocks one day; they are now in the Christchurch Museum, neatly stuffed. Sharks are plentiful. Captain Gommerell, who ran the mail steamer Kahu three times a month to the islands for many years, told me that he once saw a shark over thirty feet in length, close to his ship. Until he got a good clear view of it, he thought that it was some variety of whale; he was sure that he had not over-estimated the length.

The Chathams have a good deal of interest for geologists and naturalists. There is a small and very handsome shag that is peculiar to the islands, and several small birds, including a rail, that are not found elsewhere, as far as I know. Mosquitos, and perhaps katipo spiders, are the only venomous insects. Rats seem to be fairly numerous.

We landed in September, and after we had bidden Captain Fairchild and the retiring magistrate, Mr. S. Deighton, farewell, I

Mrs. Reihania te Poki. found plenty of work to do. We had to have the garden fenced and dug over and seeds sown for spring vegetables, and to buy a cow, for we could not go on accepting milk and butter from the settlers. The mail boat was expected about 5th October, so there were plenty of letters to be written and reports to be prepared. I also found a few court cases to settle, and a hasty marriage to be arranged.

The Residency, as our house was called, was built on slightly sloping ground above the cliff overlooking Petre Bay from the west. A small conical hill about fifty feet high on the edge of the cliff, about sixty yards from the house, was an ideal spot for a flagstaff, and I very soon found a suitable spar and had it properly rigged and stayed, with the Union Jack flying from the mast head.

Old Paina te Poki proved to be the chief native among the Maoris. He was very surly and suspicious when I called on him first; but the second in influence, old Pango-Pango, was more civil and inclined to be friendly. I could see that it would require tact and patience to secure the good opinion and goodwill of the leading Maoris; but I was confident that I could overcome their unfriendly attitude in time, if I did not show any doubt of their readiness to assist me in maintaining order equally among the Pakeha and the Maori population of the islands.

The Kahu duly arrived on 5th October, bringing the mail and stores for the islanders, and nearly all the inhabitants (about five hundred in number, half of whom were Maoris) must have assembled to meet the steamer. For the few days before she left I was kept busy, and Waitangi court-house and post office and the beach in front presented an animated spectacle. All the Europeans were in a hurry to put their business through before the ship sailed; and we had a good opportunity of becoming acquainted with the principal settlers. Mr. R. Chudleigh, J. P., seemed to be the most influential, and I soon discovered that my predecessor had been in the habit of consulting him on all important happenings on the island, and that I was expected to do the same.

Mr. A. Cox, another J.P., had been at one time in the army. I liked and respected him greatly; and I never had occasion to alter my high opinion of his rectitude and unselfish character.

Mr. Alex. Shand, Mr. Cox's partner, was a recognised authority in regard to Mori-ori traditions and history, and many of his letters are to be found in the Transactions of the New Zealand Institute.

Mr. Engst was an interesting person, being the last survivor of the two or three German missionaries, who were among the first white men to make a home on the Chathams. He had many extraordinary experiences to relate of early hardships and dangers endured, and he often reminded me of what I had read of Cromwell's Ironsides and the dour old Scotch Covenanters: bigoted and narrow and perhaps merciless in upholding their opinions of right, but with the courage and determination of a bull-dog.

Captain H. Hood was another noticeable personality, who owned a fine property on the Chathams when I first met him. He was full of energy, and had made much money in trading between the island and New Zealand; but he took up sheep farming, and lack of the necessary knowledge finally brought him to financial grief.

We were well settled down in our new home by the end of the year, and had got used to the exigencies of an island life and surroundings. The damp climate kept me suffering from a kind of influenza peculiar to the island and called mare-mare by the natives. It was many months before I got acclimatised; but my wife kept well and gained in health and strength, and enjoyed the open air and quiet life and the busy interests of our farmyard and garden.

We encouraged the neighbours to provide a little church and a reading room at Te One village, where the state school was situated; and the schoolmaster, Mr. Foster, gave us valuable help in this work. He was very musical and well read, and clever at carving and carpentering, and did most of the building and ornamentation of the church himself. During our stay in the Chathams I always found in him a loyal supporter of any scheme for the advancement and benefit of the settlers and their children.

In January, 1892, the Kahu made four or five journeys, locally known as the wool-trips, in quick succession between our island and Lyttelton. This was the busy season of the islanders, and they availed themselves of these opportunities of making a short visit to Christchurch and a quick return to their homes.

We had a succession of heavy gales and much rain towards the end of February; but the weather settled again in early March, and we had good sport catching huge cray-fish, which at this time of year frequent the rocky shallows to spawn.

On 3rd May we had a visit from H.M.S. Goldfinch, Captain Floyd, and after due interchange of compliments and calls, my wife and I accepted the invitation of Captain Floyd to go in the warship across to Port Hutt, where the commander intended to spend a few days in field drill, etc. At Port Hutt (or Whangaroa) we slept ashore in the Papens’ homestead, and from there had a good view of the evolutions of the blue jackets; and I showed the officers where they could easily load a boat with scores of big hapuka and cod.

On the 13th the man-of-war took us back to Waitangi after a very pleasant ten days’ enjoyment of the hospitality of Captain Floyd and the Papens.

On 29th October we saw two huge icebergs drifting north across the mouth of Petre Bay. A third was visible disappearing on the northern horizon; news came that still another berg had grounded on the south-west side of Pitt Island, and that a fifth had broken up into several small bergs further to the westward.

These vast islands of glittering ice were awe-inspiring from their size and height. One was shaped like a long and narrow promontory, with a castle-like hill at its northern end. It is curious that we heard of only one vessel having sighted these bergs, and yet they had less than five hundred miles to drift to pass close to Hawkes Bay, if they kept to the course they were on when seen by us. Possibly they may have broken up and melted; but as only about an eighth of their bulk was visible above water, it is difficult to believe that a berg that looked to be at least half a mile long could melt entirely in the few days’ drift to abreast of Napier. Probably the explanation is that westerly currents and wind set them a hundred miles or more to the east of the coast of New Zealand.

Our Maoris had a bad custom of buying a few cases of ale and having a big drinking bout on the occasion of the death of one of them. For some time I had been quietly recommending the chief men to discourage the practice, but without much success. Though they admitted that trouble sometimes resulted from drunkenness, they considered that the white men were mostly to blame. About the end of the year a death occurred and the usual drinking took place. Two of the natives, named Heta and Paki, quarrelling, Heta nearly killed Paki with an axe, and several others were hurt in the row.

I determined to stop the sale of liquor for awhile, and swearing in a few special constables whom I could depend on, I closed both the public houses, locking the doors of both bars and including, of course, the combined stores. The owners were furious; so were some of the settlers; but I was firm, though I allowed some food to be moved out for immediate use. There were loud threats of legal actions and petitions for my removal from the Islands, and my friends thought that I had made a mistake. No step of the kind had ever been made before, and I should be liable for heavy damages, etc., etc. But I knew my powers. I declared that in future I would also prohibit Sunday trading, and that I would not only stop the sale of drink whenever I considered it advisable, but would take away the licences from the owners of the houses if they opposed my orders.

Thus it happened that on New Year's Day, 1893, no drink was sold on the Chathams, a record indeed.

My next anxiety was to know what to do with Heta. If Paki died I should have to send him for trial to Christchurch with a number of witnesses and a special, at great expense to the Government. If I arrested Heta before the mail-boat, which was due to arrive in two days’ time, was about to sail, there might be serious trouble and an attempt to rescue him. Meanwhile I found that Paki would probably recover from his wounds, and I told my friend, chief Pango-Pango, as a great secret, that I intended to arrest Heta if he could be found before the steamer left. I guessed that Heta would hide on board the ship when she was at the other side of the island, where he was believed to be, and try to get away to Parihaka in North New Zealand, and I had no intention of searching the steamer for him. Things happened as I wished. Heta hid on board and got away on the 6th, and as he knew that a warrant was out for his arrest I did not expect to hear anything more of him for a year or two.

A man named Henderson came to tell me that he was going to Christchurch to get legal advice as to my liabilities for having closed the public houses and stores. When I retorted by warning him to be careful of what he said, or I might give him a free passage in charge of a constable, he took himself off swearing hard.

Then a party of rowdy Maoris broke the windows of a house belonging to the old chief Paina te Poki, and I fined eight of them twenty shillings each and the cost of repairs. After this I seemed to have gained the confidence and support of the head Maoris, and had no further trouble to speak of with the natives. A few days later I fined three drunken men, as well as the captain of the steamer, for selling grog to non-passengers.

In short I made myself rather unpleasant to quite a number of people, but the big regatta that came off three days afterwards was singularly successful and free of drunkenness and rows.

We felt a mild shock of earthquake on 12th February, the only one that I remember during my five years' stay on the Chathams.

We had the usual heavy gales and much rain during the end of February and the early part of March, and a sharp attack of island fever laid me up for a week.

On 28th March, H.M.S. Ringdove, Captain Bain, anchored off Waitangi, bringing a heavy mail. We exchanged the usual compliments, and Paymaster Webb and Lieutenant Sykes came to lunch with us. On the following day we went on board to pay our respects and brought Captain Bain back to tea.

Next day I arranged that Captain Bain should be taken for a day's shooting, and Lieutenant Collingwood and I went fishing. On the Sunday my wife and I lunched on board with the captain and wardroom officers; and on Monday evening the captain and Mr. Webb came to bid us farewell, as they were to sail early next morning for Port Hutt, leaving there for New Zealand on the Thursday. On the Saturday the Kahu took our mail and left for Lyttelton.

Hon. John Bryce.

Mr. Odman, a Swede who owned the store and public house on the beach at Waitangi, was a good sailorman, and he and I were very friendly, as we were both fond of boating and fishing. He was a very decent, honest fellow, and I liked him much. He had an attack of quinsy every year, but I always cured him with a few doses of homœopathic medicine, for, as I have said, I was chief doctor of the Islands, as well as chief engineer and boat-builder.

At this time I built two flat-bottomed boats of the Canadian pattern, from plans and measurements in a book on boat building and boat sailing that I got from Whitcombe & Tombs at Christchurch. They were most useful boats for fishing in the bay and would live in quite a lively sea. Later on I built a 22-foot half-decked yacht, fit to sail round the island, but that was a three months' job.

The natives owned four huge whale boats, kept hauled up into sheds on the Waitangi beach. They used these boats for birding expeditions to Pitt's Island and outlying rocks in the month of March, when they brought back hundreds of albatross and mutton birds.

In April the s.s. Ohau came for a load of sheep and brought a mail. She made a second trip the following week from Port Hutt.

On 4th July of that year we received the news of the death of the Hon. John Ballance, which grieved me much, for I esteemed him as the one honest man in the cabinet. Peace to his memory!

In looking over some papers of a later date, I came across a speech made at a public dinner by the late Hon. John Bryce, well known as “Honest John Bryce.” It is too good to be lost, so I make no apology for inserting here the report that appeared in the Wanganui Chronicle. “Mr. Bryce proposed the toast of Her Majesty's Opposition, and in doing so spoke at considerable length. He said that it was with great regret that he had to admit that he did not regard the House of Representatives with the same esteem with which he had once regarded it, but no one had ever heard him say that he felt sorry for having entered politics. While he strongly desired to see Sir John Hall remain in politics, he admitted that no one was more entitled to rest. The present Government had gone in largely for tax and experimental legislation. He regretted that the Premier had not paid more attention to strict accuracy in regard to facts which he had put before the public. The Premier's position was such that he should verify his facts to a greater extent than he had done. When Sir John Hall was leader of the House, if he had made a statement in positive terms as to facts and figures within his knowledge, no one in the House would have doubted his word. What a contrast (said Mr. Bryce) there was now, when a statement that came from the Government benches had to be verified before it could be believed. He thought that the present Premier must have some phrenological development bearing the same relation to facts as kleptomania bore to honesty. The policy of the present Government was a policy of fads tempered by deception. He thought it improbable that he himself would re-enter politics.” Mr. Bryce had resigned his seat in the House of Representatives to mark his disgust and contempt for the political methods of the Government of the day, and could not be persuaded to seek re-election.

Chapter XII.

Visit of H.M.S. Lizard—Peace and goodwill—Wreck of the Jessie Readman—I build a yacht—Bridge over the Waitangi—The Institute—Visit of H.M.S. Rapid—Our regatta—Visit of the Governor, Lord Glasgow—A month in New Zealand—Severe hurricane—Our race meeting—Building the jetty—Constant illness compels me to resign my office—The Massey government—Military pensions—Farewell.

Early on 10th December, H.M.S. Lizard, Captain Hancock, dropped anchor off Waitangi, and left for Port Hutt in the evening. She returned on the 12th, when I paid my official visit on board, and Captain Hancock and four of the officers came ashore with me. The ship sailed for Dunedin that evening, taking a mail for us.

The school children of the European parents had a grand picnic just before Christmas; so to make things even we gave a picnic to all the Maori children and parents. It proved a great success and pleased the latter immensely. Thus the year ended in peace and goodwill between the races.

On 23rd December I was informed that the wool ship Jessie Readman, 960 tons, Captain Burton, had struck at 4 a.m. in a dense fog at Wharekauri on the east side of the island, and was hopelessly wrecked. Being too ill to mount a horse, I sent Mr. Raynor, the clerk of the court, across the island to see the wreck and collect information in view of the inquiry which would have to be held.

Eventually I sent a full report to Wellington. I wished the final inquiry and finding of the court to be held there, because I could not myself exonerate the master of the ship from the blame of rash navigation.

On 7th January, 1894, the mail steamer brought a party of Napier acquaintances, Messrs. Frank Bee, Russell Duncan, Newton, Dempster, and Master Todd. They were holiday-making, and were able to give us much interesting news about mutual friends in Hawkes Bay.

At the end of February we had the usual spell of bad weather. Much rain fell, and there was a succession of heavy gales between west and south until the middle of March.

I had started to build my yacht, and having got the loan of an empty boat-shed on the beach from the Maoris, I was able to work in shelter and got on well with the job. I was also collecting money and timber to build a bridge over the Waitangi river, about 300 yards from the mouth, where we were able to get a width of about one hundred feet. When at length the New Zealand Public Works Department, who approved my design and measurements for the bridge, advanced £500, I was in a position to commence driving the piles for the structure. But it was some time before our two carpenters could be induced to undertake the contract for the work. They had no experience of bridge building and were afraid of the risk. Finally I had to give them my personal guarantee against loss should the time required for the job exceed my estimate. I used 20ft. piles, 12in. by 10in., heart of totara, and the caps and stringers also were heart of totara, 8in. by 12in., for though the bridge was for the use of equestrians in the meantime, I intended the underwork to be strong enough for a cart traffic deck when such should be required.

I kept a record of the strength and direction of the wind, barometric and thermometric readings and weather conditions daily throughout 1894, and Mr. Cox kept the rain gauge, for the information of the Weather Department in New Zealand.

At about this time I called a public meeting to consider the possibility of building an institute and hall at Te One. The settlers responded to the idea very well. One gave a site for the building; most of them promised money or labour assistance; and I undertook to get help from the Government towards the cost of building, with the result that, when finished, the Chatham Islands Institute, with its hall and library, was a piece of work to be proud of, and one that proved to be a boon much valued by the inhabitants. Mr. Foster, the schoolmaster, Mr. Raynor, my clerk, and Messrs. Wishart and Fougere assisted me loyally in carrying out this enterprise, and the size and importance of the building added greatly to the appearance of the village.

Mr. Odman, my friend and brother fisherman, had an exciting experience at this time. He was out in the bay fishing in the smaller of my two punts, when he saw a huge shark considerably longer than the boat—about 18ft.—which came close alongside with the evident intention of capsizing it. Luckily the boat was not anchored, so Odman snatched up the oars and pulled smartly for shore, but the shark followed him up closely until he got nearly to the beach.

Two men, Williams and George Clugh, were reported as missing, and the surmise that they were drowned in the big lagoon proved to be correct.

On 28th June H.M.S. Rapid, Captain Sir Henry Ogle, arrived at 4 p.m. She was searching for the missing schooner Ocean Wave. Sir Henry landed and had tea with us. Lieutenant Martin, Paymaster Alton and Surgeon Sparrow also landed, and next day the captain and Lieutenant Martin dined with us, and we went aboard for afternoon tea. Dr. Sparrow and Lieutenant Alton spent the evening with us, and the following day the Rapid sailed for Lyttelton at 4.30 p.m. Sir Henry gave a subscription, as well as some books, a swing lamp, and four water-colour paintings to the Institute.

After the Rapid left we held a regatta. The Maoris won the sailing race for big boats with their large surf boat; my whaler finished second; but the weather became so rough that we were compelled to postpone the last three sailing races.

At last I got Mr. Daymond and William Bowke to sign the contract for building the Waitangi bridge; the work to be completed by 26th November. The weather during the first half of September was dreadful. There were furious gales from the south-east with snow, hail and much rain; and it was near the end of October before the under-work of the bridge was finished, leaving a bare month to complete the decking, railing and painting within the contract time. The bridge, however, was actually finished on 24th November in a most satisfactory manner, thoroughly good work being put in every part; but as the men had not previously done any bridge building, I had to be clerk of the works and superintend every detail and explain the right position of every brace and bolt used in the construction.

About this time a weather prophet in New Zealand predicted a huge earthquake wave, and the islanders got busy removing their heavy boats on to high ground. Several of the settlers on the sea front at Waitangi brought boxes of valuables up to the Residency, requesting me to give them room for safety in case the dreaded tidal wave came along.

We finished the year with a grand fancy dress ball in the Te One Hall in aid of the library. It was a great success and we netted £16.

On 3rd January, 1895, the Kahu arrived, bringing a very large mail. The Rev. R. A. Woodthorpe and his wife came in her to pay a visit to the island, and incidentally, I believe, to see what prospect

Tapu and his wife, the last of the Mori-ori race. there was of the Maoris giving a welcome to a native clergyman, should the bishop decide to send one. The Maoris being all followers of Te Whiti, I did not think that many of them would extend a welcome to the suggested Maori cleric.

At the end of January we had notice that his Excellency the Governor, the Right Hon. the Earl of Glasgow, G.C.M.G., etc., would visit the island in the course of the next month; so I called a public meeting to arrange for giving him a good reception.

On 15th February, H.M.S. Ringdove, Commander Bremer, anchored in Port Hutt, and brought a mail for us.

Four days later the Government steamer Hinemoa, Captain Fairchild, arrived with Lord Glasgow on board, and the assembled population of the island gave him a loyal reception, with speeches of welcome from both races. His Excellency, who honoured us with a visit to the Residency, offered to give us a trip to New Zealand. Of course we accepted joyfully and began at once to pack up.

On the following day Lord Glasgow and his suite lunched with us to meet the principal settlers, and after seeing the regatta got up in his honour, we all went on board the Hinemoa. Early next morning we steamed round to Te Wakaru and landed to call on Mrs. Shand, the widow of the first magistrate of the Chathams. It blew very hard during the night, and the ship sheltered under the lee of Wakaru Point. At 8 a.m. H.M.S. Ringdove left for New Zealand, and early next morning we steamed round and lay to off Owenga, as his Excellency wished to see Tapu, the last of the old men of the Mori-ori race.

We left the Horns at noon for Lyttelton in fine weather, but during the night a heavy sea from the south was encountered, and our ship rolled so tremendously to the beam sea that our three lady passengers were very ill. We reached Lyttelton at 10 a.m. on the 24th, and after a visit to the mission ship Southern Cross, left for Wellington in the afternoon and arrived there next morning.

We spent a most enjoyable month in New Zealand, visiting relatives and friends, exchanging news and experiences, and attending to sundry business matters. But my interviews with departmental officials were depressing. I felt convinced that the Justice Department intended to keep me at the Chathams as long as possible, and the death of Mr. Ballance made my chance of a transfer to New Zealand, in accordance with his promise, a very remote possibility. In fact I had succeeded in producing too good a state of affairs in regard to the Maori inhabitants of the Chathams, for the realisation of my desire for the magisterial charge of a native district in the North Island.

On 1st April we left Lyttelton to return to the Chathams, and owing to very bad weather had a most miserable trip across, arriving at Waitangi anchorage at 10 a.m. on 4th April, all more or less ill and weak from the effects of the passage.

Our island friends, including the Maoris, were genuinely glad to welcome our return, and a very few days sufficed to settle us down in the old grooves.

Early in June we were much saddened by the death from pneumonia of Effie, the youngest daughter of Mr. A. Cox. I did not know of her illness until too late for my limited knowledge of medicine to be of use. I feel sure that had the services of a doctor been available when the young lady was taken ill, she might have been saved. Her father was much grieved at her untimely death.

On 30th July we had a severe hurricane from the north-west with a tremendous sea; but though the waves ran up the river as far as the new bridge it stood the combined force of wind and sea without damage. The gale ended in heavy rain, and was the worst experienced at the Chathams for many years: barometer 28 40, thermometer 46. The weather continued cold and miserable until the end of August, with a low barometer and a temperature frequently down to 40° and 38°.

There was much sickness on the island during the latter part of this year, chiefly among the children. I was kept pretty busy acting as doctor, and was happily successful in pulling the little ones through.

A race meeting in December was so successful that we formed a club and decided to hold a meeting every year in future. We had excellent sport and absolutely straight running, every jockey trying his best to be first past the post. Hurdles were barred on account of the lack of a surgeon to set broken bones.

The beach at Waitangi is firm sand and runs up to the foot of the cliff under the Residency plateau which here juts out at right angles to the shore. In the corner about a quarter of an acre of paapa rock is exposed at low water, with plenty of depth for a laden boat up to the edge of the paapa. So I set a couple of men to work with shovels and crowbars to jump holes four feet deep in the soft rock at low tide. Into these holes I dropped the ends of 8in. by 6in. piles of iron-bark, 10ft. apart, in two rows. The wash of the tide packed the spaces round the piles tightly with sand that acted like cement and held them rigid. When these were braced and connected by stringers bolted about a foot below their tops, with strong decking bolted across the stringers, we had a good strong landing jetty, about four feet above high-tide mark, and running out to water deep enough to float a laden boat at less than half-tide.

The oldest inhabitants were very sure that, except at an enormous cost, no wharf could be built that would last through a northerly gale. Twice in years past, they told me, a rough landing stage had been built, but both structures had been swept away by the first northerly sea of any force.

Both of these stages, however, had the piles sunk in sand and placed where the full force of the waves broke on the beach. But the position which I selected was partly sheltered by outlying rocks; the paapa ledge extending fifty yards beyond the jetty broke the waves before they reached it, and so the run of the seas lost half their force.

This jetty has proved most useful. It is well built with the deck clear of waves even in heavy seas, and will last until the iron-bark piles rot, when they can easily be replaced as required. Since I left the island the structure has been enlarged, and it has stood the heaviest seas without damage.

My frequent attacks of illness now warned me that it would be unwise and even impossible for me to retain my post at the Chathams, and accordingly we left for New Zealand by the mail boat on 10th June after a stay of nearly seven years on the Chatham Islands. We had made many friends there among all ranks of both races, and felt much grieved at parting from many whom we could not meet again.

A few days after reaching Wellington I was taken ill with congestion of the lungs, and had to lie up for so long that I was compelled to ask for an extension of sick leave without salary. I also applied for a transfer from the Chathams to a New Zealand district. Both applications were refused. The retired Auckland grocer who posed as minister of the Justice Department, the Hon. Something Thompson, declared that he had never heard of “leave without pay” being given to anyone, and that I must return to my post or resign my appointment. Being too ill to fight the matter, I resigned on the understanding that later I might be appointed to a native district in the North Island.

When I was well enough to travel, we went to eke out a living on five acres that I owned in Hawkes Bay, and we have resided at Hastings since my resignation in 1897.

The Massey Government has the grateful thanks of all the veterans of the Maori war for having given effect to their petition that a special military pension might be given to the men who actually were under fire. The Ward Government, being too ignorant and careless to understand the wide difference between a public reward for good service done and a dole for which the sole conditions of claim were advanced years and poverty, considered that the old soldiers' claim on the country ought to have been satisfied by the charitable old age pension.

Although the petition was only on behalf of such veterans as had served as privates and non-commissioned officers, the Massey Government went one better and made the pension payable to men of all ranks whose possession of the medal was proof that they had been under fire from the enemy. This enabled officers to participate, and was a boon to those of narrow means. Of course a pension according to rank would have been more equitable and more in accordance with military usage, but even two shillings a day for an old major may be very welcome.

I can hardly believe that it is nineteen years since I retired from the service of the Government. The time has passed with little more of interest and excitement to mark the years than the irksome endeavour to keep out of debt to the butcher and grocer.

Old friends and acquaintances have passed away with appalling rapidity, and the loss of them reminds me forcibly that I must hear the “last post” before very long.

Hoping that these reminiscences will not prove too tedious for younger friends to peruse, I will just add from my heart, Farewell!

A synoptical narrative of the Maori war, from the middle of 1865 to the end of 1872, must necessarily include a history of the prolonged pursuit of Te Kooti through the rough and difficult country of the Urewera tribes; and I wish to record my gratitude to Captain G. A. Preece, N.Z.C., for his interesting story of a year of very arduous work, in which he was one of the chief actors. He kept notes of the continuous bush fights and marches, and is one of the few men now living who can give a trustworthy account of the forces employed and the work done by them.

With much pleasure I add the following notes contributed by himself, as an appendix to my book.

F.J.W.G.

Te Kooti.

Pursuit of the Kooti Through the Urewera Country.

Having been invited to describe the operations against Te Kooti in the Urewera country from August, 1870, until his escape to Waikato in May, 1872, I must first give a short account of the events that led up to them, as well as of the Taupo campaign under Herrick and McDonnell, and the fighting at Tapapa in January, 1870, under Colonel McDonnell. I have only my memory to guide me with regard to the dates of this campaign, but as that is fairly good I do not think I shall be far out. So far as I know, no account of the Taupo campaign has been published. The stories of the Urewera and West Coast campaigns have been given in Gudgeon's and Whitmore's books.

In July, 1869, fighting on the west coast had practically ceased. Titokowaru had been driven out of the Patea country by the field force under Colonel Whitmore, and had taken refuge in the Ngatimau country at the back of Waitera. Some two hundred of the Pakakohe tribe under the chief Tauroa had been captured by Major Noake up the Patea river, and the armed constabulary with a division of Ngatiporou occupied New Plymouth and the coast from Patea to Waihi. Armed constabulary were stationed at several positions up to White cliffs; but no actual hostilities again occurred in these districts, though they were in a very unsettled state for many years.

The expedition under Colonel Whitmore moved by way of Auckland to Tauranga and Matata on the Bay of Plenty to take action against Te Kooti. The rebel chief had recently raided Whakatane, capturing a friendly native pa and killing a number of natives and a Frenchman, his wife and half-caste daughter, who occupied a fortified place outside the pa and made a very gallant defence.

The Urewera force moved up in two columns, one along the Whakatane river into Ruatahuna, the other under Colonel Whitmore by way of Ahikereru. At the end of April or early in May, 1869, another column advanced from Wairoa to Waikaremoana, under Lieut.-Colonel Herrick. It was intended that the three columns should concentrate at Ruatahuna; if, however, Colonel Herrick could not cross the lake, the other columns were to move on after occupying Ruatahuna.

Colonel Herrick's command consisted of the 2nd, 3rd and 5th divisions of armed constabulary, a large contingent of Arawa natives under the chiefs Te Pokiha, Matene, Henare and Petera Te Pukuatua and others, and the corps of guides attached to the staff under Captain Swindley and his able assistant, Sergeant Christopher Maling.

The other force under Colonel St. John comprised the first division of armed constabulary and other detachments, with a large force of Ngatiawa and Ngaitai tribes under Major Mair and the friendly chiefs Wiremu Kingi and Hohaia. Both columns met with heavy fighting, that experienced by Colonel St. John, who captured five native forts on the way to the Whakatane valley and Ruatahuna, being especially severe.

The forces joined at Ruatahuna about the middle of May. Several small indecisive engagements followed in the bush during the next few days, though five natives were killed in one of them. Colonel Whitmore had to abandon his intention of joining Colonel Herrick at Waikaremoana, as his Maoris absolutely refused to go further. They declared that the country was very difficult; that winter was approaching; that the Huiarau might get covered with snow; in fact any excuse was better than none. In the circumstances Whitmore decided to retire to his base at Fort Galatea on the Rangitaike river, there to await a more favourable opportunity of dealing with Te Kooti and the Urewera, Herrick being ordered to hold his ground at Lake Waikaremoana.

There is no doubt that the Ruatahuna expedition had the effect of proving to the Urewera that their country was not impregnable, and that European forces could fight them in their fastnesses. Considering the nature of the country our losses were very few. Colonel St. John lost Captain Travers, Lieutenant White and five or six men. The bodies of these men were afterwards dug up by order of Te Kooti, who said that they should be food for the beasts of the field and the fowls of the air; I re-interred their bones on my first expedition to Ruatahuna in 1871. The other column lost only one killed, a Taranaki guide named Hemi, who had distinguished himself in many fights at Taranaki, and three wounded, including the late Tom Adamson of the constabulary.

The whole force retired to Fort Galatea and the intervening posts on the coast between there and Matata. Colonel Whitmore left the district in charge of Lieut.-Colonel St. John, and went on to Wellington after interviewing Colonel Herrick at Wairoa with regard to further movements.

A change of government having taken place in the month of June, active hostilities were suspended for a while. I had been sent by Colonel Whitmore to Patea with a fresh contingent of Ngatiporou who had been enrolled for service in the armed constabulary on the west coast. After handing them over to Major Noake at Patea, I returned to Wellington, and then received instructions to proceed to the Bay of Plenty with Colonel Harrington, who was to take command. On our arrival at Matata, Colonel Harrington ordered Colonel St. John and Colonel Fraser with the whole force to abandon the redoubts from Matata to Fort Galatea, and to fall back on Tauranga, where he intended to put them through a course of drill for a few months.

Just before this, Colonel St. John, under instructions from Colonel Whitmore, had proceeded to Taupo for the purpose of arranging for the occupation of that country, and making a further line of forts from Galatea to Taupo. Unfortunately he went up with a very few men. Leaving most of a small detachment of troopers at the Opepe bush, he went on to Tapuaeharuru on the lake to consult with the friendly chief, Poihipi Tukairangi. On his return the next day he found that Te Kooti, with a large body of men, had come up behind him, occupied the bush and surrounded the troopers, who were all killed with the exception of three who escaped towards Fort Galatea.

I afterwards heard from natives who were with Te Kooti that they had no idea that our forces were moving towards Taupo. When they came on their tracks, and saw there was only a small party, they decided to cut it off. They worked their way round to their camp through the edge of the bush, sending by the track a friendly native who had been taken by Te Kooti to get into conversation with our people and put them off their guard. The plan acted well. Trooper Gill, knowing the man as a friendly, but unaware that he had been taken prisoner by Te Kooti, got into conversation with him, and was told that he was with some other friendly natives who had come to scout. A few more came up and engaged our men in talk, thus giving the main body time to surround them, with the result as stated above. Te Kooti moved on to Waikato, getting the adherence of Te Heuheu and all his people.

Subsequent events proved that the occupation of Taupo was the right policy, but it was unwise to send forward a small body of men a distance of over forty miles from the main body. The withdrawal of the troops from Fort Galatea to Tauranga was another insane act, as will be shown hereafter.

About the beginning of August I was ordered by Colonel Harrington to proceed from Tauranga to join Captain St. George, who was in command of the friendly natives at Tapuaeharuru, where all the Maoris at the northern end of the lake and surrounding districts had assembled, under their chiefs, Hohepa Tamamutu and Te Poihipi Tukairangi. After some time word came up from Napier that the friendly natives under Henare Tomoana were advancing with the field force which had been withdrawn from Waikaremoana under Colonel Herrick. This caused great joy in camp, for it was known that Te Kooti had returned from Waikato to Tokaanu, at the south end of the lake, and was there in considerable strength.

There was the usual delay in moving up into new country. Towards the middle of September we got orders to proceed to the south end of the lake by water and co-operate with Henare Tomoana and Colonel Herrick. They were to move on from Runanga where the bulk of the force had arrived; Henare Tomoana was to take the lead, Colonel Herrick was to follow. Tomoana, however, pushed too far ahead and engaged the enemy at Tauranga, a pa on the Taupo lake, before we could join him. We were delayed by adverse winds and arrived on the following day, too late to take part in the fight, to find that Te Kooti had lost several men and had abandoned his position during the night. If the whole of our force had got there he would have been in trap; but Tomoana's party was not strong enough to take the fort unaided, and we had the mortification of seeing another good opportunity lost.

Tomoana's party and ours moved on to Tokaanu, Te Heuheu's place, the same day, and we heard of the arrival of Colonel Herrick and his force at Tauranga early next morning. The rebels had abandoned Tokaanu before our arrival, and were traced towards the upper end of Lake Rotoaira. Colonel McDonnell sent word that he had arrived at the northern end of the lake with Renata Kawepo and his men from Hawkes Bay, and that he expected to be joined in a few days by Major Kemp with the Whanganui contingent.

In the course of the morning our scouts found signs of the enemy on Te Pononga hill at the back of the settlement. I moved out at once with the Arawa contingent, Captain St. George having gone to Rotoaira to meet Colonel McDonnell. We did not then think that the enemy was in force, but at the edge of the bush they had entrenched themselves in rifle pits, and we were soon involved in a hot engagement. Henare Tomoana advanced with his men and we had a stubborn fight, driving the enemy from point to point. Captain St. George came up with reinforcements, and quickly grasping the position, gave orders to charge. It was all over in a few minutes. The rifle pits were filled with dead. Amongst them was Wi Popata, one of Te Kooti's best men, who had followed him from the Chatham Islands. We lost one man killed, and a young chief of Maniapoto mortally wounded. Colonel McDonnell came up just in time to see the finish of the fight and to congratulate us on our success. On our return to camp we found that Colonel Herrick had arrived with the armed constabulary field force. I think the date of this fight was 27th September, 1869.

A few days were spent in scouting the enemy's position by Captain Northcroft and myself with natives and the corps of guides

Captain St. George. under Sergeant Christopher Maling, N.Z.C. We ascertained that the enemy occupied a settlement called Papakai at the southern end of Lake Rotoaira. When the Whanganui natives arrived under Major Kemp, the whole force moved up to Poutu at the same end of the lake. On 3rd October we advanced with the combined columns, only to find that the enemy had retired from Papakai and were holding two hills and a strong earthwork redoubt called Te Porere at the end of the bush. It was arranged that Major Kemp was to move to the left under cover of a hill, and that after he had had two hours' start, he, with the Europeans in the centre and the Hawkes Bay natives on the right flank, was to make a combined attack on the three positions held by the rebels. This was done and the two small positions were taken. Just as we were crossing the Whanganui river Captain St. George ordered me to take the Arawas to the right flank. It was soon over; the pa was stormed and about forty of the enemy were left dead on the field. We lost Captain St. George, two Whanganui natives named Winiata and Pape, both very brave men, and Komene, an Arawa sub-chief. St. George, one of the bravest men that ever lived, was a great loss to the force.

During the next few months Te Heuheu and his natives surrendered to us at Poutu, and reported that Te Kooti was wounded in the hand and side and was in the bush. We made numerous expeditions and had some small engagements up to the middle of January. Colonel Herrick had left and Colonel McDonnell remained in command. Kemp returned to Wanganui to get more men.

Two very brave actions performed at this time by members of the native contingent are worthy of record. It was necessary to send a despatch to the Premier, Mr. (afterwards Sir William) Fox, who was at Hiruharema on the Whanganui river. I was in charge of the Taupo and Arawa contingents after Captain St. George's death, and Colonel McDonnell instructed me to send a native orderly with a despatch more than 90 miles, of which 30 were open to the enemy. None of the Taupo natives knew the road, so I said to Te Puia (who was partly a Whanganui and partly an Arawa), “The colonel wants a despatch carried to Hiruharema; do you know the country?” He replied, “Yes, give me a trooper's horse, and let me take any horse I see on my way.” He faithfully carried out his instructions, and on his return got through in one day and part of one night; he had used five horses on his way there and back, picking up his troop horse to get to camp. I often quoted this man as an example to other natives, but they only replied, “That is not bravery; he was a fool; he did not know he was in danger.”

The other incident occurred when we wanted to get accurate information as to Te Kooti's movements. He was known to be in the neighbourhood of Taumaranui, and two men, Te Honiana and Wiremu (I forget his other name), volunteered to go through on a scouting expedition. They went fully armed with carbines and revolvers, travelling the open part of the track by night, and the bush part by day, a distance of forty miles, mostly bush. They reached the ridge just above the settlement at Taumaranui, where, lying hidden part of a day, they heard all the speeches of the enemy. At the end of five days they returned to report that the rebels were moving along the west side of the lake to Tapapa at the back of Tauranga. I do not think that this valuable service of theirs was ever recorded.

No sooner was this information obtained than news came that Major Kemp and Topia (an up-river Whanganui who had recently left Te Kooti to join us) were on their way to us with 200 men. Moving by the eastern side of the lake we crossed the Waikato river at Whakamaru. There Colonel McDonnell decided to halt for the arrival of Kemp and Topia. I was sent on through the bush with an advance party to locate the enemy, and managed to surprise and capture a party of Ngatiraukawa, who were local Hau-haus. They said that Te Kooti was at Tapapa in great force, but they did not want to join him. Although some of the tribe had done so, they themselves only wished to be left alone. I sent back to inform the colonel that I thought it advisable to stay where I was, and to keep the natives under control. We camped there and kept a good guard. Late in the night we heard a call some way off on our front. We challenged, and after a little while we heard an English voice, to which I replied, and found that it was Sergeant Maling, who, with a native orderly named Raimona, had been sent from Tauranga by Colonel Fraser with despatches to Colonel McDonnell. They had crossed Te Kooti's trail on the Tokoroa plains and had got between us and the enemy. This was only one of Maling's many plucky acts. Two days after, lying low by day and marching at night, we attacked and took Tapapa. On the following day Te Kooti reversed the order and attacked us just as we were about to move out against him. It was fortunate he attacked us when he did, for if we had moved off he would only have found a small force there.

I need not mention all the little engagements in the Tapapa bush during the month we were there. Suffice it to say that after getting through our lines and Fraser's, Te Kooti made for Ohinemutu, and would probably have taken the place, if it had not been for the determination of Captain Mair who forced an action while Petara Pukuatua and other natives were parleying with him. The result was a running fight and his escape into the Urewera country after severe loss.

The force then moved to Tauranga, and thence to Matata with the intention of working against Te Kooti with the Ngatiporou under Major Ropata and Captain Porter from the Poverty Bay side, and from the Bay of Plenty by way of Waimana or Ruatahuna and Ahikereru.

The Whanganui natives had moved to Whanganui under Major Kemp, and Colonel McDonnell proceeded from there to interview the Minister of Defence, Mr. (afterwards Sir Donald) McLean. I was instructed to go to Tarawera and then on to Fort Galatea with a body of Arawas, and, as soon as a column arrived, to make a movement on the Urewera through Ahikereru. After a short while we were ordered back to Tarawera, and shortly afterwards to Te Teko.

It had then been decided by Mr. McLean to relieve Colonel McDonnell of his command. The field force of armed constabulary was sent to occupy a line of posts at Taupo and several points on the Bay of Plenty. Meanwhile the field work was to be carried on by natives under their own chiefs and a few European officers.

I received instructions about 26th March to disband the Arawa and Taupo native contingents, and to enroll a special corps of not more than a hundred picked Maoris, who should be drilled in the same way as the European force. I was to be stationed at Te Teko and work from there as a base. Captain Mair had been instructed to raise a similar number and would be stationed at Kaiterirea. He and I were under the officer commanding the Tauranga district. We were ordered to act together and meet at Fort Galatea patrolling the country, and at the same time to keep in touch with Major Roberts commanding the Taupo district; but a good deal of discretion was allowed us. I picked my men from all tribes and avoided choosing any chiefs in order that I might have them under my own control, as I had previously had a sickening of native chiefs. I had considerable opposition from the chiefs, but I selected good men in spite of them, and was fortunate in getting some excellent European and Maori non-commissioned officers. I never regretted the composition of the force. The men worked well together; my Europeans were experienced armed constabulary men, and one of the native sergeants had been many years in the Auckland police and was well drilled.

In the meanwhile the Whanganui natives, under Major Kemp, Ropata Wahawaha and Captain Porter, the loyal Ngatai tribe under the chief Wiremu Kingi, and the Ngatiawa under Hohaia and Hori Kawakura, attacked Te Kooti at Maraetai in the Waioeka gorge after he had raided Opepe, a settlement near Opotiki, where he had captured a number of the Whakatohea tribe and taken them inland with him. These operations were very successful. Ropata drove the natives out of their stronghold, and as they escaped from him they fell into the hands of Kemp and his men. The local Maoris who had been taken prisoners, or had joined him recently, were spared, but the Chatham Islanders belonging to Te Kooti's band got no mercy. A great many were killed; Hakaraia, a noted old ruffian, was among them. Of Te Kooti's Whakatohea captives, 270 men, women and children were taken by us, and we discovered a letter from one of their chiefs to Te Kooti inviting him to make the raid, which explained why he had spared their lives when he took them.

From 6th April, 1870, Captain Mair and I made expeditions on the borders of the Urewera country, and had a few unimportant skirmishes with the enemy in different places. On 17th April a Ngati-whare, named Paraone Te Tuhi, and four others who had been in one of the skirmishes, came in under a white flag and surrendered. Paraone said to us: “I am the rope; pull me and the horse will follow,” intimating that he was the first to give himself up, and that if we sent him back to his tribe they also would surrender. Shortly after this the whole of the Ngatiwhare tribe from Ahikereru, under their chiefs Hapurona Kohi and Hamuera, came in, and under instructions from the Government, they were conveyed to the coast near Matata and located there. Subsequently natives of the Warahoe tribe surrendered under their chief Wi Patene, and were settled near my redoubt at Te Teko, the Government providing them with food until they could gather their crops. In all cases they gave up their arms.

Here I must mention that when Kemp and his Whanganui advanced from Ohiwa up the Whanganui river, Tamaikoha, the Urewera chief of Waimana, who had been the leading spirit in the rebellion in the Opotiki country in 1867 and 1868, met Kemp and made peace. He declared that he had never joined Te Kooti, and promised that our troops could go through his country in pursuit of the rebel chief without being molested by his men

Some time after the junction of Kemp's party with Ropata's and their successful fight at Maraetai, and after they had left the neighbourhood, Colonel St. John, who then commanded the district, heard that rebels were afoot, and had made a raid up the Waimana. He fired on some men he saw, killing one, who unfortunately turned out to be one of Tamaikoha's men. This naturally caused trouble, because Tamaikoha said that we had made a treacherous peace and then attacked him. Colonel St. John was removed from the district, and Major Mair was sent to try and patch matters up. His efforts were successful, and Tamaikoha was ever afterwards our firm friend. I mention this for a reason that will appear later.

The Urewera tribe as a whole were growing weary of allowing themselves to be used by the rebel leader. Early in May I had heard that the chiefs Paerau Te Rangikaitipuaki and Te Whenuanui of Ruatahuna were inclined to break away from Te Kooti, who, after his defeat at Maraetai, had taken up a position with the remnant of his followers at Te Hautapu at the head waters of the Waioeka and Hangaroa rivers, about midway between Opotiki and Wairoa on Hawkes Bay. I accordingly sent letters to them telling them that if they would come in and give up their arms, we would merely go through their country in pursuit of Te Kooti, and would not harm them. They replied that the peace made with Tamaikoha had resulted in blood being spilt, and that they would not surrender. However, shortly after this Te Whenuanui met Major Mair at Ruatoki, and peace was made with his party. A little later Paerau met me at Ahikereru, and his people made peace and opened their country to us. After these important surrenders the only chief of the Urewera on the Ruatahuna side of the country who supported Te Kooti was Kereru, who occupied the lower end of the valley and Maungapowhatu; one chief of the latter place had surrendered to me with the Ngatiwhare.

About this time a body of Wairoa natives under Mr. F. E. Hamlin took up a position at Onepoto Waikaremoana, and the Urewera wrote to me saying that we were fighting them on one side of their country, and making peace on the other. After a few skirmishes the chief. Hona Te Makarini, and his people gave themselves up to Mr. Hamlin, and with a few other chiefs went to Napier to confer with Mr. Ormond.

This ended the war against the Urewera, although a small section of them from Maungapowhatu under Te Whiu were still out with Te Kooti at Te Wera or Te Houpapa. Among them was Kepa Te Ahuru, a trooper of No. 1 Division A.C., who had been captured by Te Kooti at Rotorua just before Mair's engagement with him. This man afterwards escaped during a skirmish when Te Kooti raided Tologa Bay. He made his way through the country to Maungapowhatu and surrendered to me at Horomanga. I sent him to Tauranga to report himself to Colonel Moule, who, having satisfied himself that he was forcibly detained and had taken the first opportunity of escaping, sent him back to duty and gave him his back pay. Kepa was then attached to my force. He served in it for several years, and was on all the subsequent expeditions through the Urewera country.

Te Waru and his tribe of Wairoa natives, who dared not show themselves at Wairoa on account of the murder of four scouts at their pa, Whataroa, in October, 1868, surrendered unconditionally to me at Horomanga and laid down their arms. These people were sent under escort to Tauranga as there were murderers among them, but the Government decided to place them on the coast at Maketu under charge of loyal Maoris. They were afterwards settled at Waiotahi, near Opotiki, on land allotted to them by the Government, and were never allowed to return to the Wairoa district.

On one of the many expeditions that we made during the latter part of 1870, scouring the borderlands of the Urewera, we intercepted a party of Te Kooti's men trying to get through to Waikato, and drove them back into the bush near Heruiwi. One of these men, Paora Wakahoehoe, was afterwards killed at Waipaoa in May, 1871. Another, named Maka, was captured by Captain Ferris in the early part of 1872. He was one of the ringleaders of Te Kooti's butchers who committed the atrocities at Poverty Bay, and was tried at Napier and condemned to death. The sentence, however, was commuted to penal servitude for life, and after serving ten years he was released.

From the latter part of 1870 to April, 1871, we, in conjunction with Captain Mair's contingent, patrolled the country from Te Teko as far as Heruiwi, and through the bush from Waiohau to Horomanga and Ahikereru, keeping in constant touch with the constabulary under Major Roberts at Taupo and Major Mair at Opotiki. Then orders came that we were to hold ourselves in readiness to take the field against Te Kooti, as it was reported that he was making for Waikaremoana to avoid Ropata and Porter, who were moving up towards Te Houpapa from Poverty Bay.

On 27th May, 1871, Captain Mair and I started from Fort Galatea on our first expedition after Te Kooti through the Urewera country. We had about 50 men of each contingent and had brought up three weeks' rations from Te Teko. We arrived at Ahikereru the following day and then got deep into the Urewera mountains, where the knowledge of the country that we had gained on Colonel Whitmore's Ruatahuna expedition was of great service to us. On our arrival at Ruatahuna we were welcomed by the natives under Te Whenuanui and Paerau, this being the first visit of troops to their country since we had made peace with them in 1870. We camped there one day and buried the remains of Captain Travers, A.C., and the five men who had been exhumed by Te Kooti in May, 1868. With us was old Hapurona, the chief of the first Ureweras who surrendered to us. He was a man of great influence with the Urewera, and could be trusted to give us reliable information. Our passage through the country was not without risk of opposition from the more irreconcilable members of this wild hill tribe. Indeed, just before we left Ruatahuna we received a defiant message from Kereru, a chief who occupied the lower end of the Ruatahuna valley, warning us to return or we might get into trouble; this man's influence extended as far as Maungapowhatu.

Our first march was over the Huiarau range, and thence through rugged country and down the river-bed to Hereheretaunga on the Waikaramoana lake. We had previously sent an Urewera native with a message to Te Makarini, the chief who had surrendered to Mr. F. E. Hamlin in the latter part of the previous year, bidding him to have canoes to take us over to his settlement and to be ready to meet us. We found the canoes duly provided, and having crossed to Waitohi, sent them back for Mair and his men. On the following day we went over to Tikitiki, Makarini's settlement. Mair remained there with his men while I crossed with Sergeant Bluett, twelve men, and a prisoner named Hone Pareha, one of Te Kooti's men who had recently turned up at Tikitiki. Other Wairoa natives were there who had left Te Kooti, and they promised to surrender to Major Cumming at Wairoa, Makarini undertaking to take them out. I proceeded to Wairoa to get further provisions and boots for our men. Though we had exceptionally bad weather we got back ten days later with a good supply.

Taking with us Hapurona, who proved very useful as a guide, we crossed the lake to the Whanganui arm towards Maungapowhatu, travelled for one day up the Hoporuwahine stream, and then ascended the range by a very old track. On the third day we arrived at Maungapowhatu, surrounded the settlement of Te Kakari, and then sent Hapurona to tell the natives that we had no quarrel with any one but Te Kooti's people, who must surrender. When they found that we were in possession of their place they made no trouble. We afterwards learned that as we marched in, Kereopa, the murderer of the Rev. Mr. Volkner, escaped out of the other side of the fort.

We then pushed on through the bush to Tauaki, the next settlement, by a good well-used track. Our intention was to go as far as Te Wera, at the head of the Waioeka and Hangaroa rivers, where Te Kooti was believed to be. But bad weather set in again, and we halted until Tamaikoha arrived on 21st June. He advised us not to go on to Te Wera as supplies were running low, but to make for Opotiki by way of Waimana.

It was now late in the season, and the weather being unfavourable we decided to follow his advice. We went on to Opokere and from there to Te Whakaumu, where the track to Te Wera parts off, thence to Tawhana, the junction of the Tauranga and Tawhana creeks which form the Waimana valley. Our next point was Tauwharemanuka, where Tamaikoha had built a large whare. It had been named Runanga to commemorate the making of peace, but he, with grim humour, renamed it Tipene after the man who was shot by St. John's party after peace had been made. A long march down the stream, which we crossed no less than forty-two times, took us into the Waimana valley proper, and here is an extract from my notes: “The Waimana is a very fine valley for small farms; the land is of the best quality.” On the 26th we arrived at Opotiki, and after some bad weather reached Te Teko on the 2nd July.

We had been over a month going through some of the roughest country in New Zealand, and although we had not achieved much in the way of fighting, we had shown the Urewera that we could get through their country in the depths of winter. After events proved that it was fortunate that we did not go to the Te Wera country, for Te Kooti was close to Waikaremoana at the time we were there, and had a distant view of us as we returned.

On 17th July we received a telegram stating that he was at Waikaremoana, and that Ropata and Porter were seeking for him in that direction; Major Cumming and fifty men were also going to Waikaremoana, and we were instructed to keep a sharp outlook on our side. On the 19th instructions came that we were to proceed to Ruatahuna. We got the men ready and started the same day for Fort Galatea, where we met Captain Mair with his men. The weather was fearful. Flooded rivers forced us to make a detour of over twenty miles before we crossed the Rangitaike river by the natural bridge at Te Arawhata, and then we were compelled to fell trees to make a crossing over a branch of the river. We had to send to Major Roberts for a further supply of rations.

In spite of the weather which still continued to be very bad, we were constantly busy. Captain Mair started with twelve men to scout the country towards Runanga where Captain Gudgeon was stationed. I sent a sergeant to scout towards Ahikereru. Mr. Ormond telegraphed that Te Kooti was supposed to be at Ruatahuna. Captain Scannell arrived with a body of constabulary to take up a position at Okaromatakiwi between us and Captain Gudgeon to prevent Te Kooti breaking through. On the 29th the rations arrived by pack-horses from Opepe. In the meanwhile, in reply to a message which I had sent to Urewera to enquire if Te Kooti had been heard of near Ruatahuna, word came that he had not been in that locality, but that it was reported he had disappeared from Waikaremoana on the 31st. Captain Mair returned from Runanga, but had found no traces of him in that direction. On the same day a telegram arrived instructing us to march for Waikaremoana with the least possible delay by whatever route we thought advisable.

We started at once, making for Pareranui through the bush. The Whirinaki river was flooded, and we had great difficulty in crossing, but in the open valley of Ahirinaki we found good marching for about five miles. Then we took to the bush again and camped at Manawahiwi. The next day we marched over the ranges to Oputao in the Ruatahuna valley, and thence to Te Whatakoko where we camped, and sent a message to Paerau at Ruatahuna telling him to keep his people together for fear Te Kooti should get hold of them. Starting at daylight next morning we marched through bush, crossed the Huiarau range at 11 a.m., and soon reached Hereheretaunga on the lake. There were no canoes, although we had wired to Wairoa before we started that canoes were to await our arrival there. Consequently we had to cut our way through the bush, skirting the lake over very rough country to Maungarerewai, where we fired guns to attract the attention of Makarini's people at Tikitiki. No other course was open to us. It was impossible to get further round the lake owing to the nature of the country. We had, therefore, to take the risk that Te Kooti might hear our guns and make off. Two men came over in canoes. They reported that Major Cumming was at Onepoto on the other side of the lake, and though his men had followed Te Kooti's trail on the Whanganui-a-Parua arm of the lake, they could see no fires. All that night and all next day it snowed heavily, and there was a heavy sea on the lake. Fortunately our camp was on a point which had been an old potato cultivation, and the men were able to get a few potatoes by digging through the snow.

On 4th August two men arrived in a small boat with a letter from Captain G. McDonnell. Mair remained with the men and I went in the boat to arrange with Captain Cumming for rations. We were unable to get to Onepoto owing to the heavy sea and remained at Makarini's pa at Tikitiki for the night. Early next morning I got over to Major Cumming's at Onepoto, secured three days' rations and arrived at Mair's camp to find his people nearly starving. Next day we moved over in canoes to Whanganui-a-Parua, and leaving ten men to guard the canoes, started through the bush to the top of the range from where we could see Lake Waikareiti. Sergeant Bluett was the first white man who ever saw it. He climbed a tree and called down to us that he had located it.

We thought it likely that Te Kooti might be making in that direction. Captain Mair returned with ten men to search the edges of the lake towards Te Onepoto, while I went over the range and followed the trail of one man until it joined others, and at last brought us to a camp which appeared to have been left about four days. From there I sent word back that we were on the trail. That night we caught a dog, and then knew that we were not far from the enemy. Early next morning we started to follow the trail, and had only gone a short distance when a volley was fired at us as we were going up a ridge. There were no casualties as they fired too high. Our men returned the fire, but the enemy soon got away into the bush. We followed for some distance, but found they had scattered, and as we only had food for one day we deemed it advisable to let them know that we had retired. It was evident that they were making along the Matakuhia range. Knowing the country well I thought that if we returned to Onepoto and got fresh supplies we could make for the same direction as the enemy by keeping on the Waikareiti side of the range, while we should avoid ambuscades if we did not follow directly in their track. At Onepoto, to our surprise, we found Captain Mair, with Sergeant Bluett and the whole of his force, and decided to go back over the same ground with all the men. After a forced march we came upon a camp of Te Kooti's at the base of Matakuhia range, and found there a letter from him, which ran as follows:— “Ki Nga Kawanatanga Katoa. E hoa, ma he kupu tenei naku kia koutou, me mutu te whaiwhai i au notemea kei taku nohonga ano au e noho ana, kei te puihi, engari ka puta au ki te moana whaia, ko tenei mahi kohuru a koutou me te kiorete ketu and i te hamuti me whakarere, he whai na koutou i au tonoa mai he tangata kia haere atu au ki waho na tatou riri ai. Kapai. He kupu ke tenei ko taku mahara ko te maungarongo te oranga ko te mahi kai hoki kati kei te whakarite ahau i enei mahara kia oti. E hoa, ma ko tena mahara a tatou ko te riri kaore ano i tae mai ki au engari ka tata ahau te whakarite ia koutou mahara, engari kia tupato kei ki koutou kaore. <hi rend="i">Heoi ano</hi>. E hoa, ma i tonoa atu e au aku tamariki ki te kawe i taku pukapuka whakahoki mo koutou tahuri ana koutou ki te whawhai. Kati kauaka hei haku ki to koutou matenga, ko aua tamariki hoki ko Hata Tipoki ko Epiha Puairangi ko Patoromu ko Ruru he tamariki end i tohia ki te tohi o Tu i whangaia ki te whatunui a Rua. He tamariki hoki e whakaaro nui ana ki te whenua. Heoi ano. Ki te kino koutou ki ena korero me aha mo koutou na ano ia. Na to koutou hoa riri, Na Te Turuki.” (Translation of <name type="person" key="name-100152">Te Kooti</name>'s letter). To all Government men. Sirs. This is a word of mine to you. You must give up chasing me about because I am dwelling in my own abiding place, the bush. But if I come out to the coast then pursue me. This murderous purpose of yours in pursuing me is like a rat rooting dung: you must give it up. Send a man to tell me to come out to you in the open where we can fight. That would be fair. This is another word. My thought is that in the maintenance of peace and in the cultivation of food is safety. I am trying to carry out these thoughts and to accomplish them. Sirs, that idea of yours that we should fight has not come to me yet; but I am about to adopt your idea, so beware. Do not say it will not be. That is all. Sirs, I sent to you some of my young men to carry my letter warning you and you attacked them. Cease then to complain about your own killed. Those young men, Hata Tipoki and Epiha Puairangi and Patoromu and Ruru, were young men consecrated by the rites of Tu and fed with the bread of Rua. They were young men who loved their country. That is all. If you dislike these words what does it matter? All the worse for you. From your enemy, Te Turuki.

We are indebted for the translation of this letter to the Rev. Canon James Stack, who adds the following interesting note. “The letter has a special interest for me, as I happened to be the translator of the first letter received by the New Zealand Government from Te Kooti after his escape from the Chatham Islands. The man was a political fanatic and announced his ‘deliverance from captivity by Jehovah.’ He warned the Government not to interfere with him in future but to leave him in peace. No heed was paid to his warning, and troops were sent to capture him on landing at the East Coast. The letter I have just translated is Te Kooti's protest against the policy adopted by the Government towards him.”

We camped for the night, but not wishing to attract the attention of the enemy, did not light fires until 9 a.m., and then only with dry supple-jacks to boil tea. On the following morning Mair and I went forward with forty men without swags, and came to an old kainga a few miles from Eripeti on the Ruakituri river. We struck back into the bush where we heard a dog bark, but, not finding it, kept along the bush parallel with the track. No traces of people who had been pig hunting were found. Te Kooti's party appeared to have broken up into small parties in their usual way, and we were at a great disadvantage in not being able to get supplies without going back for them.

On the following day I went out with Sergeant Bluett and thirty men. We climbed the Matakuhia range, and after crossing several gullies, at length struck the enemy's trail which we followed until we found his camp, which seemed to have been abandoned three days earlier. The trail appeared to go down towards Papuni, but there it scattered again. We then returned to camp. The following day Captain Mair and I decided to go back to Onepoto for a fresh supply of rations, and to follow the course that I at first thought of as the only means of overtaking the enemy, namely, from Whanganui-a-Parua across country at the back of the Matakuhia range towards the Waipaoa river.

On 13th August we drew ten days' rations from Major Cumming, intending to get across the lake next day; but the sea was too high, and we were obliged to make our way round through very rough country. We then struck across through the trackless bush, guided by compass and cutting our way, till we reached a high table land where there was no undergrowth and travelling was easier. Heavy snow fell and we had to camp early. On the following day we marched through more difficult country. The men complained of cold, but were still cheerful, believing that we were making for Maungapowhatu. Next morning it was still snowing when we reached the top of a dividing range, and sent a man up a tree to observe the country in the Waipaoa valley. To our delight he beckoned to Mair and me to climb up, saying that he saw smoke. We soon saw that he was right, and at once began to descend the range into the Waipaoa valley. It was necessary to go carefully and with as little noise as possible, and it took us four hours to reach the valley across an intervening ridge. At the river we found a camp a day old. Leaving a guard of thirty men there we hurried on, and after two hours came on the trail. Kepa Te Ahuru, N.Z.C., captured a woman named Mere Maihe, from whom we ascertained that the camp was not far off, though many of the men were out in different directions hunting pig, and might come in from any side. Te Kooti and some of his followers, however, were in camp, and as it was already late and there was no time to be lost we decided to attack at once.

The enemy were taken completely by surprise and made no stand. Four men, Paora Te Wakahoehoe of Wairoa (who I recognised), Mehaka Hare, a Bay of Islands native, Petera and Wi Heretaunga, two Chatham Islands men, were killed; and we captured four women and three children, took nine rifles, two B.L. rifles, three revolvers, four fowling pieces, and a greenstone mere. We also found Te Kooti's shoulder belt full of Spencer ammunition, a trophy which I still have. Two men were in a hut on the left. One of them named Paora was shot as he was swimming across the stream; the other got over up the bank, fired one shot, and then disappeared into the bush. This, as we afterwards found, was Te Kooti himself, who thus narrowly escaped us. If most of the men had not been away pig hunting, our success would have been greater. We followed the few who had escaped, but night was falling and we had to abandon the chase.

We left camp next day, and after two days' hard marching got out of the bush into the fern country, where we camped on an old potato cultivation; this helped us as we were again getting short of food. We had made arrangements with Major Cumming to send a party with pack-horses with supplies along the open country towards Whataroa, as we knew we should have to make for that district, and seeing their fires in that direction we sent a corporal and nine men to meet them and advise them of our whereabouts. In the meanwhile as our men had had a very hard time we determined to try to communicate with Ropata and Captain Porter, who were believed to be in the vicinity of Te Papuni with the Ngatiporou tribe.

It was decided that I with forty men should make a forced march up the Ruakituri river and endeavour to overtake them. I knew the country well, having been through it during the fighting in 1865 and 1868. Heavy rain, however, prevented me from getting away till the 22nd, and I was again delayed on the 24th at Erepeti by flood. We crossed the Ruakituri river by bridging a narrow place, and had a hard march over the hills by Colonel Whitmore's track. Then cutting the track to escape the river, we met seven sick Ngatiporou with Ropata and Porter ahead. On the morning of 25th August we reached Papuni, and left Sergeant Bluett and forty men in camp there. The rest of us hurrying on caught up the Ngatiporou on the range nine miles from Papuni, where they had just found a trail of one man. After reporting our engagement to Ropata and Porter, and telling them we thought Te Kooti was making for Maungapowhatu, we returned to Papuni that night and got back to Mair's camp the next night, covering six Ngatiporou camps in one day. At last, on the 28th, we reached Wairoa, having been constantly on the move from 17th July through the roughest country in New Zealand and carrying our supplies.

From Wairoa we had to march to Whangawehi on the northern side of Mahia, where we shipped for Whakatane, getting back to Te Teko on 8th September. On 14th we got news that after we left them, Ropata and Porter followed Te Kooti's trail to Opokere at Maungapowhatu, where they surprised him early one morning, killing four men and taking seven prisoners, including one of Te Kooti's wives.

On 22nd September, Captain Mair and I with some fresh men in place of those unfit to march, met at Fort Galatea and started on another expedition up the Horomanga gorge. Our way thence lay over rough country to Omaruteane on the Whakatane river, one of Keruru's settlements, where we were met by Paerau, Te Whenuanui and other Urewera chiefs, but not by Kereru. On the 26th we got a letter from Te Purewa, a chief at Maungapowhatu, saying that he had found Te Kooti's trail and was following it. We reached our old camping ground at Te Kakari next day and were well received by the Maoris, who reported that some of Te Kooti's men who had left him had got guns and rejoined him.

Then we started for Neketuri for the purpose of hunting up Kereopa, who we heard was there, and to endeavour to pick up Te Kooti's trail. Sergeant Huta and ten men went in another direction, but Te Kooti had four weeks' start of us, and the heavy rain had obliterated his tracks. For several days we divided our men into small parties under Huta and Bluett, Captain Mair and myself, each going in a different direction through the bush, our main camp being at Te Kakari. On the 30th, Mair sent word that he had found a trail leading towards Ruatahuna or Waikaremoana, and Bluett came in with his party and reported that Hemi Kakitu and twenty men of Tamaikoha's tribe had joined in the pursuit of their own accord. We now spread out our men in three parties to follow up the trail, Mair moving by Tatahoata with the main body. One day we passed two camps. Te Kooti had about twenty followers and was avoiding the settlements of Urewera, keeping away from the tracks.

When we reached Tatahoata we found that a trail had been found at Paterangi, inland from Ahikereru, and that Mair had started by the ordinary track with thirty men and intended to sleep at Tarapounamu. Within half an hour we were off once more, and reached Tahuaroa that night. On the following morning we made a splendid march over the ranges to the foot of Pukiore, where we found that though Mair had not passed, Paerau with ten men had gone by. The river being low we decided to go by the Okehu stream. Mair caught us up about one mile and a half from Ahikereru, and we arrived there at 11 a.m. Paerau and his Maoris there reported that the trail had been seen on the 30th on the Okehu stream beyond Paterangi, evidently several days old; so sending the sick to Fort Galatea under Sergeant Matutaera, we marched to Whataroa.

It was evident that Te Kooti was making for Waikato. We started next morning in heavy rain and had trouble crossing the Whirinaki river. Mair went with his column by way of Tapiri, and I struck through the bush by an old track. At Ohihape we struck a trail, but it was old. After we had followed it for some time, one of our men caught sight of a Maori, but we lost his track, though we found a place where Te Kooti had camped about six days before; the man whom we saw was evidently in search of Te Kooti and had slept there the previous night. Here Mair joined us. He went off again with 35 men and Bluett with ten; I started with my column to Arawhata to communicate with Captain Morrison and get fresh supplies from Opepe, and went on to Ngahuinga. Next day Mair had a brush with Te Kooti in the bush. There were no casualties on either side, but we knew at least that he had not escaped to Waikato.

The weather continued very bad for several days, and we had so little food that we could not move. Starting again on 10th October for the bush in very cold weather with snow and hail, we found a trail of Te Kooti's people in small parties of twos and threes, which we followed until we lost it on open ground. Tamaikoha's men reported that they had seen signs of the enemy in a creek in the bush, and had followed them until night.

Tamaikoha with twenty Ureweras now joined us, and Rakuraku, another of the Urewera chiefs, went to Ruatahuna to cut in ahead of Te Kooti in case he should double back that way. Next day we followed the trail through dense bush along the ranges beyond Ahikereru, coming in the afternoon on his camp where we slept: we thought he would be at Weraiti by that time. As we were short of food, Mair and I decided to return, leaving Tamaikoha to follow up the trail, and we went out into open country to await supplies from Opepe. On 17th October word came in that Hemi Kakitu had attacked Te Kooti in Okehu at the back of Ahikereru, wounding one man, capturing one rifle and a woman; so we went on to Ahikereru with 43 men and interviewed Huhana, the captive woman, who stated Te Kooti was trying to get to Waikato, but that some of his men were not willing to venture it. Scouting parties were sent out right and left. Sergeant Huta, finding traces of three men, for several days scoured the bush at the back of Ahikereru and towards the head of the Okahu stream, but came upon no more signs of the rebels. On 24th October some of our scouts returned, reporting a trail up Okahu leading towards Te Weraiti. We followed it for three days beyond Weraiti at the back of Ruatahuna, where we met Netana, Rukaruka's brother, who said that their party had surprised three men; they had, however, escaped down the creek, leaving cooked food behind them. At Ruatahuna one of Te Kooti's men had surrendered to the chiefs. He was a young Urewera chief from Maungapowhatu named Te Whiu. The Urewera were not inclined to hand him over to us, and as they had given us help in the chase and promised to be answerable for his future behaviour, I allowed him to remain with them.

Heavy rain set in for several days and we were obliged to make for Ahikereru once more. Then starting again from the head of the Whirinaki valley we crossed the ranges at the head of the Ngamate and Okehu streams and on to the dividing range over the head of Waiau. The heavy rains, the flooded streams and shortness of food combined to make it dangerous for us to remain in the bush, so we made back to Ahikereru, and on 4th November returned to Te Teko, leaving men at Galatea. On the 22nd it was reported that Ropata and Porter had been to Ruatahuna and had captured Kereopa who was being sent to Wairoa, Hawkes Bay. On 7th December I sent Sergeant Raimona, with a small party, on our last track, with instructions to go further on towards the head of Okehu stream and then to turn down stream. Instead of following my directions they crossed the range into the Waiau valley, where they lost themselves. Then going down the Waiau for four days, they came out at the western end of Lake Waikare-moana, and managed to communicate with Captain McDonnell at Onepopo Here they were supplied with rations and they got back to camp on the 15th, just as I was starting with a party to search for them. They had followed the tracks of two white men and a woman in the Waiau, and this gave us a clue as to the whereabouts of Te Kooti.

On 17th December Ropata and Porter with their party reached Whatatane from Ruatahuna after sending Kereopa under escort to Napier. A month passed quietly, and on 18th January, 1872, Captain Mair and I made an expedition up the Horomanga gorge, on a rumour that Te Kooti was in the vicinity of Tutaepuke-puke. We captured two men, who denied that he had been in the locality. However, we detained them and surrounded the settlement at daylight next morning. They were very indignant at being made prisoners and stoutly denied all knowledge of Te Kooti, and after they had prepared plenty of food for us and invited us to stop a month and search the country, they convinced us of their good faith. We scoured the whole country for days without result, and on our return heard that Te Kooti had burnt Mr. Dolbel's wool-shed at Maungaharuru. On 31st January we left Akikereru, travelling first by our old trail of October, and then through rough, rocky country following the bed of the river we cautiously proceeded by the trail which our men had made into the head waters of the Waiau.

On the following day, still following the river, we discovered a hot spring just above the junction of the main stream. I mention this because during recent years it was claimed that the Tourist Department had made a most important discovery of a hot spring which was even unknown to the Maoris of the district. As a matter of fact we came across several hot springs, one hot creek, and one place where hot water bursts up in the middle of the river. The Waiau proper comes in on the left, rising at the head waters of the Whakatane behind Ruatahuna.

We saw the camp that Sergeant Raimona had found, and on the following day came upon the tracks of a man and a dog, and then on a plantation of potatoes. For two days we followed those tracks, and then came on a new camp only two days old, where we lost them. Then striking Raimona's trail we made for the Marau end of the lake, and found traces of natives there. On our arrival at Marau we lighted a fire, the first that we had had in daylight for six days, and followed the tracks to a canoe. Tanira and Urewera and his wife came across and told us that the last tracks we had found were made by their people; those which we had seen in the Waiau were not made by them. On this I communicated with Captain Ferris at Onepoto, and arranged with him to take his men along the other side of the lake and work in concert with me. We got Raharuhe, an old native acquainted with the country, to accompany us. On the 10th Ferris and I joined hands, but neither of us had any success to report; the rain had obliterated all tracks. For one day Ferris stayed there, co-operating with me and scouting the country. He then left for Ngaputahi, while I worked towards Te Putere. Heavy rain set in, and that day I was compelled to allow the men to light fires to warm themselves. On the following morning, 13th February, I sent out parties scouting right and left. One of them returned with news that they had found a trail and a camp about seven days old. The heavy and long-continued rains had made the river too high to cross, but we marched early the following day and passed three more camps. I sent Bluett up the Mangaone stream, and Huta up a small creek where a camp was found with the fires still quite warm. The occupants had only recently left, so sending Huta to cut them off, I recalled Bluett and followed the trail with him and seven men for seven miles to the mouth of the Mangaone, leaving our main body to come on with the swags. We came up with the fugitives as they were climbing a cliff on the opposite side of the stream. I called on them to surrender, but, receiving no reply, fired on them. Unfortunately our ammunition had been damaged by the rain and was very defective, and the enemy got safely up the cliff and made good their escape. We followed them for two miles and then gave up the chase, but they left their food in our hands, and it proved very acceptable.

This was the last engagement in the New Zealand war. Both Captain Ferris and I continued to follow Te Kooti, but we never came actually across him, although Ferris captured Amaru Matete and Maka, Te Kooti's head executioner, near Te Reinga some weeks after. We followed the trail next day to Whataroa, where Captain Ferris took it up; my party remained at the lake for a few days to rest after our long and trying marches. When we arrived at Fort Galatea on 26th February, we had been for a month constantly travelling through trackless country. If we had been armed with Sniders instead of Terry carbines we should have been able to reap the benefit of out toil; but it was not until 2nd April that I got the men armed with the Snider rifles for which I had asked for a long time in vain.

On 19th April I started on my last expedition for Waikaremoana by way of Ahikereru and Maungapowhatu. Puketapu, where I found Ferris' trail, was reached on the 27th after very hard marching in continuous rain. We worked our way out to Marumaru and from there sent to Wairoa for rations and a fresh supply of boots. Having news that Te Kooti had crossed the Maungapowhatu and Ruatahuna road and was making back for Waiau, I marched to Waikaremoana through Whataroa, and found that Ferris had started from the Marau end of the lake with ten armed constables and ten natives. Te Kooti was now making for Waikato, so I wrote to Captain Mair to come up to Heruiwi, telling Lieutenant Way to bring ten men from Galatea to keep watch from that side. On 6th May we left the lake, going towards the Hoe river, over the ground we had traversed in February. We worked down towards Ngatapa and Mangaharuru, where Te Kooti had spent some time in the summer. Finding no trace of him there, I determined to work out to the constabulary post at Te Haroto, and then make a forced march round by road to co-operate with Ferris and Mair from the Heruiwi side. On our arrival at Te Haroto and Tarawera on the 13th, I sent Sergeant Bluett ahead with a small party to get rations from Runanga and then to work through the edge of the bush towards Ahikereru and try and strike the trail there; I was unable to push ahead myself owing to a sore leg. On the 17th a telegram arrived from Mr. McLean, the Defence Minister, stating that Te Kooti had got through to Arowhenua on the 15th and left for Te Kuiti on the 16th.

So ended all our expeditions. Ferris followed the trail as far as Heruiwi, but got there too late; Way, who met me at Tarawera, had seen nothing of the trail.

I cannot close this without stating how well Captain Mair and I worked together. There was never any question of seniority between us; we consulted one another on every detail and worked loyally together for the public good during a very trying time.

G. A. Preece, N.Z.C., Capt. N.Z.M., Ret. List.