1935 - Stack, J. W. Early Maoriland Adventures of J. W. Stack - CHAPTER III. TE PAPA, p 117-127

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CHAPTER III

TE PAPA

THE first thing in my life that I can remember is playing with other children on the beach at the Bay of Islands, beside the stern-post of a small vessel sticking up in the sand, and watching a little schooner sailing down the harbour with my father and several other missionaries on board. That was in 1838, when I was three years of age.

Paihia 1 was at that time the most important European settlement in New Zealand. It consisted of a church, and several substantial dwelling houses and outbuildings, all facing the sea, and close to the beach, and standing a little apart from one another.

The smell of lemon-scented geranium always recalls Paihia to my mind, because the white shell-strewn paths leading up to the several houses were bordered on either side by that geranium, which filled the air with its fragrance. Bright blue skies, warm sunshine, and the sound of rippling wavelets along the beach are always associated with my recollections of the place.

I can remember one morning passing the open French window of the room where all the older

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children were being taught their lessons, and wondering why they could not come out and wander about the place with me as they did at other times.

Two little children who lived round a point just out of the Paihia Bay used to come occasionally to play with me. One day I was told they were both dead, and in the afternoon I was taken to see them. They were lying side by side on one bed, and I thought it so strange that they could never play with me again, when they seemed to be fast asleep. On our way back we had to cross a deep stream of water by a very narrow bridge. I had often been warned not to go alone on to this bridge lest I should be drowned, and I can recollect the thrill of fear that passed through me when I looked down into the dark water, and realized for the first time that being drowned meant that I should become stiff and cold, and never speak or play again.

On my father's return from the missionary expedition down the East Coast, it was decided that he should join the Rev. Alfred Brown 2 and Mr. Wilson 3 at Tauranga, and in course of time we proceeded there in the mission schooner,

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Columbine. Tauranga 4 had been selected as the best site for a mission station, not only because it gave ready access to the large native population of the lake district and Thames Valley, 5 but because, being a harbour, it was thought a safer place of residence for the missionaries' families.

The country was in a very unsettled state at the time, and fighting was continually going on amongst the different Maori tribes; and in the event of an attack being made upon them the missionaries felt that it would be easier to get their women and children away from a port than if they were stationed somewhere inland.

On a tongue of land jutting out into the harbour, and called Te Papa, 6 houses were built by

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the Maoris for the use of the missionaries. Ours was about thirty feet long and twelve feet wide. The walls were about seven feet high, and the ridge pole on which the rafters rested was about eleven feet from the floor. The inside of the house was lined with toetoe 7 reeds, the outer covering consisted of raupo (bulrush blade) and the roof was thatched with wiwi (rushes) and toetoe. The floor was covered with boards, imported, I think, from Sydney. A short distance from the house, stood the "kauta" or kitchen, the native servants' huts, and the storehouse where our provisions for bartering with the Maoris were kept.

One of the first things I can remember at Tauranga was being taken by my father to see a fort, which the Maoris were building under the direction of the missionaries, as a place of refuge. It was close to our houses, and on the edge of a cliff. A wide and deep ditch was being dug, and

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the earth taken out of it was formed into a wall; to prevent the soil, as it was being heaped up, falling back into the ditch, alternate layers of fern and soil were placed one above the other, till the wall reached the desired height. It was a busy and noisy scene, but I was too young to realize from what I saw being done that it betokened the near approach of danger to our lives.

But I was soon to be further enlightened upon the subject. That very night when I was put to bed, instead of a nightgown, I was dressed in another set of day clothes, and those which I had worn during the day were made into a bundle and placed under my pillow, and I was told that, if called during the night, I was to take up the bundle and run to my father's bedside. I slept soundly enough the first night, but after awhile I began to remark the anxious looks on my parents' faces, and heard them speaking in subdued tones, which made me suspect that something to be dreaded was about to happen. Several nights in succession my father called me, and told me to come to his bedside, where I was caressed and otherwise rewarded if I remembered to take my bundle with me. In this way I grew accustomed to these midnight calls, and awoke readily to do my father's bidding without being at all frightened. I had two little sisters, and they, as well as my parents and myself, were nightly attired in readiness for immediate flight. Fortunately the dreaded attack on the mission station did not take place, and the troublesome precautions were soon laid aside.

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When I was still in frocks I had a severe attack of typhoid fever, the effects of which did not leave me till after I was fifteen years of age. Of the illness itself I have no recollection, but I can recall most vividly what happened when I was able to be taken from my sick-bed.

The mission schooner Columbine was in Tauranga Harbour under order to take my father and Mr. Wilson to visit the Maoris at Mercury Bay, 8 and it was thought that if I went with them the change of air and scene might revive me. I was too weak to like the idea of going away from home, and to reconcile me to it I was clad in a new green tartan frock, new socks and shoes, and a new cap. I so well remember whining fretfully as my nurse, Ani, carried me down in her arms to the boat--I felt too weak to cry. On reaching the vessel I was placed on a mattress on the cabin floor, and a pewter basin put beside me. I was very sea-sick during the short voyage to Mercury Bay, and right glad when the tossing motion ceased, and I was taken on shore and set down in a shady spot near the beach, close beside a babbling stream making music under the overhanging trees, and where I could watch the vessel.

It was a lovely, calm, bright day, and I enjoyed the sunshine, and breathing the fresh air filled with the fragrance of the flowers and aromatic leaves of the wild plants about me, and listening

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to the melodious notes of the tuis and korimakos 9 as they darted backwards and forwards with rustling wings amongst the honey-laden stems of the flax-bushes which lined the seashore. A boy named James Wilson, who was one of the Tauranga party landed from the Columbine, kept coming every now and then most kindly to see how I was getting on, and to supply me with ship's biscuits, which I munched with zest.

When my father got back from visiting the Maoris he brought me some pretty pebbles which he had found, and a piece of beautiful flowering moss, which I treasured for thirty-four years. It was lost when our house was burnt at Kaiapoi in 1870.

I got strong very quickly after that pleasant day on the beach at Mercury Bay, and felt very happy when I got back to my dear mother.

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The beach at Tauranga was the resort for all sorts of sea-gulls, large and small, and their graceful forms and neat plumage attracted my notice, and excited the desire to possess some of them. As the birds were never hurt or disturbed, they allowed people to walk close up to them without showing any signs of fear. I tried several times to catch one, wishing to make a pet of it. A grown-up friend told me that the reason I failed was because I did not put salt upon the bird's tail. So one day I filled a piece of paper with salt and went down to the beach, accompanied by my little sister, whom I had told, in the confidence of anticipated success, that I was going to bring home a sea-gull, as I now knew the secret of catching them. We went down together to the Waihirere beach and after filling my hand with salt I had brought with me I approached a sedate looking old sea-gull, who took no notice of me till I threw the salt upon his tail, and bent forward to pick him up, when he stretched out his neck, and ran quickly forward along the sands, chuckling to himself as much as to say, "No, no, no, none of that." I was very mortified at the failure of my plan, and felt aggrieved at having been deceived by a grownup person. Until then I had always thought that what grown-up people said must be correct, and I never quite forgave the person who first taught me to doubt my elders' statements. It gave me from my babyhood a great dislike to practical joking.

This was the period of my awakening to the fact that there is a serious side to human life, and that boys and girls were made to do something

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more than eat and drink and sleep and play, that they were made to think and learn, and to do many things so that they might grow up to be useful and not idle and worthless people.

I had now to spend part of every morning trying to learn the alphabet out of Mavor's Spelling Book, and part of every afternoon trying to form letters with a slate and pencil. I used at first to pay far more attention to the little pictures which illustrated the alphabet than to the letters themselves, and when I had to say the letters I persisted in mixing up P's and B's and M's and N's, till even my darling mother lost her patience, and used to threaten me with a formidable strap which she dangled before me. When the tone of her voice indicated that the threat might be carried into execution, I used to take refuge under the table, and cling to one of the legs till she promised to let me off. But my father took me in hand, and the result of a severe spanking was that I mastered the difficulty between one letter and another, and soon learnt to read.

One day my lessons were interrupted by a great commotion outside. Loud-voiced Maoris in angry tones were declaiming about something. Presently my father came in and told us that the chief of Otumoetai was demanding the surrender of my nurse Ani, who was one of his wives--for heathen chiefs at that time always had more than one wife. But Ani was unwilling to go back to him, and had hidden herself in the manuka scrub which grew all about the place. The men sent to fetch Ani declared that my father knew where she was hiding, and that if he did not tell them they would

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burn his house down. My father went out, and succeeded so far in pacifying them that they went away without carrying their threat into execution. But the next day about noon two war-canoes filled with armed men came over to the station. My father told us all to keep indoors, and then went out to parley with the leader. I watched from the window what was going on outside, and saw the Maori warriors throw off all their clothes, and range themselves in a row about a hundred yards away from our house, where they danced a war-dance, stamping and leaping, and flourishing their weapons over their heads, keeping time with the tune of a loud chant. Every movement was performed simultaneously by the whole company. 10

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Their yells and shouts were appalling, and when they rushed forward with wild cries towards our house I jumped off the chair on which I was standing, and took refuge under a bedstead, which would have provided a poor shelter had they set fire to our house. Seeing my father standing near the "kauta," they made for him, but as he stood his ground, they made a feint of setting fire to the "kauta." The mission servants, however, pulled out the burning thatch wherever it caught fire, and so saved the building.

My father's quiet remonstrances after a while calmed the excited men, who dispersed all over the station in search of poor Ani. Her hiding place was at last discovered in a clump of manuka close to a steep cliff about thirty feet high. She sprang out of the cover and ran like a frightened hare straight for the cliff, from which she leaped on to the sands below, where she lay apparently dead. Her pursuers returned and reported to the main body what had happened, when a large number of them, accompanied by several people from the mission station, went to the spot where poor Ani was lying insensible. She was placed on an amo and carried up to our house, where her pursuers agreed that she should remain till her death or recovery took place. Fortunately her injuries did not prove very serious, and she did recover. But as she showed an invincible dislike to the man who claimed her, the missionaries induced him to give her up for some blankets and axes, which he accepted in exchange for Ani.