CHAPTER II. TE KOOTI ESCAPED AT RUAKI-TURE.
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CHAPTER II.
TE KOOTI ESCAPED AT RUAKI-TURE.
IT was July 31st before I could get fully started from Poverty Bay upon Te Kooti's trail. I had to encounter great difficulties. The weather had been most unfavourable, the rain had flooded the rivers, and I had to improvise a commissariat supply, but I did not allow any of these things to delay me, and moved off directly Major Fraser's reinforcements arrived. I myself, with part of the force, took the direct line by which Te Kooti had marched, but sent the Poverty Bay contingent by the better and easier track to Waihau. It was a service of endurance; two nights we camped in snow, our men consumed their supplies for four days easily in two, and when I offered a few of the Napier volunteers--who were without rations, or even fuel, for they had thrown away the axes I had issued them--an extra allowance of flour, I did so with affected diffidence "because you fellows don't care for flour." "Try us, sir," was the answer. It is, perhaps, unnecessary to say that when I did, no time was lost in converting it into dampers. I started from Poverty Bay with a little more than 200 men; half, or thereabouts,
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consisted of the Napier division A. C. Napier volunteers and Napier natives, in all 118 men; and Turanga natives, Coast natives, and Turanga volunteers to about the same numbers. On August 3rd, after a toilsome march and great obstruction from rain and snow, the two columns united at Waihau. On the 5th the entire force reached Hangaroa River bank, having passed on the march the kainga where poor Paku Brown had been shot; the sight of the dead body produced on the friendlies from Poverty Bay a depressing effect, as he was a person of consequence among them, and it was, therefore, easy for the European volunteers from Turanga to induce them to fall into their views which they then communicated to me. We had seen Te Kooti's watch-fires, and knew he was not far ahead. Hard work and hard knocks were clearly before us, and the Turanga men resolved to leave us from Napier to encounter both alone. They told me they had reached the limits of their district, a ludicrous excuse to make to us, who had left our own district to aid them. But I had had some experience already of these volunteers, and I knew how useless it was to urge the ordinary arguments advanced on such occasions, so I suffered them to go in peace, even ordering them back, ostensibly to keep up the supply of provisions by pack animals. I did not forget what Henry V. said before Agincourt, that "he who has no stomach
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for the fight, let him depart," and away they went with their store of rations, and the boots, blankets, and equipments issued to enable them to carry out the expedition. It was, however, disheartening, for it was evident that their numbers might have just turned the scale if Te Kooti made vigorous resistance; and, as it turned out, even a portion of their rations, had they left them behind, would have altered the results of the next few days' operations. It is, however, fair to state that a few of them, among whom was the only doctor with the force, Dr. Brown, declined to abandon us. I left these men, except the Doctor, who gallantly acquitted himself later on, to take charge of our horses and all impedimenta with which we could dispense, at a sort of camp at the head of the valley leading to the Wairoa, near the scene of Captain Richardson's engagement.
The plain duty of a commanding officer in my position was to push on, unless the odds against me were hopelessly great. As regards the enemy's actual armed force I did not believe that we were outnumbered, notwithstanding the uncertainty existing as to the number of recruits he might have attracted to his ranks, but there were other difficulties even more serious than the numerical force against us, for if we could overtake Te Kooti in the open I had no doubt of easily defeating him; but the winter season was at its worst, and the
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rivers were flooded; we were in high country, and had had to bivouac two nights already in the snow, which our native force had felt very much. We could hardly rely very confidently upon the loyalty of the Poverty Bay force to insure our being supplied with provisions by pack transport, and in addition to the unknown but certain hardships and difficulties of the country before us, and the risks of the weather, the prospect of starvation was by no means enlivening to the Napier men. But, as I have seen on many occasions, the spirit of the Hawke's Bay settlers, most of whom have been inured to hard work and privation on the hill-sheep runs of the Province, rose as the difficulties before them increased, and not one man flinched from his duty; nay, more, their spirit was caught by the native allies from Napier, and they, too, disdained to follow the example of their relatives and friends from the coast. To complicate my personal difficulty in deciding what course to pursue, I now received a despatch from Captain Richardson from the Wairoa, informing me that Mr. Locke, a gentleman often confidentially employed by the Government in native matters, in passing Wairoa, had stated that despatches were on the way to me recalling the expedition. I reflected over all the features of the case, and balanced all the arguments that occurred to me on both sides as I lay awake all
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night, but I could find no justification for turning aside, at all events till I had done my utmost to overtake Te Kooti. The reported recall of the force was, after all, only hearsay, and ultimately proved unfounded.
Accordingly, on the morning of the 6th, leaving whatever we could not carry, we crossed the Hangaroa in canoes. We were 118 of all ranks, 76 being Europeans, 42 natives, and the two chiefs Hotane and Te Poro from Poverty Bay, who elected to leave their tribe and accompany us. We were rationed only to the night of the 8th, and, failing the arrival of pack horses by another route, we should after that evening be without food, unless we could find potatoes, or overtake Te Kooti and supply ourselves from his store. I made as light as I could of the defections from our ranks so as not to discourage those who stood to their colours, but it was hardly necessary to take any pains in this direction, so excellent was the disposition and so high the spirits of the men. We pushed on through the fern as fast as we could, keeping the trail of the enemy which was clearly defined, and by nightfall we had reached Te Kooti's camp of the 4th, the fires of which we had seen from Waihau. Husbanding our rations as best we could, we marched again early on the 7th, pushing forward with all possible speed, passing Te Kooti's camp of the 5th, and at sunset
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reaching his camp of the 6th and sleeping there. The enemy had not left us much to get by foraging, for his rearguard had not long left the ground, but one or two small pigs and a few seed potatoes were obtained from a kainga not far off, to assuage the pangs of hunger, for the rations had already been consumed. We were now unfortunately at the edge of the bush, and as our rations were more than exhausted, I felt that I could, without dishonour, turn back and claim to have done all that was possible, but the men themselves were desirous to make another effort, and I was glad to encourage their spirit. Leaving therefore our blankets and empty haversacks, so as to march light, and directing the guard left in charge to shoot and cook a stray colt we had caught, we moved off early by a well-defined track through the bush. By this time, as hunting men would say, the scent was burning hot; we could see, at every step, indications that the enemy had but recently passed. Twigs broken, probably by those in front to mark the track, were still fresh, and every few minutes we heard, not far ahead, the shots of their pigeon shooters echoing along the valley through the forests.
We found also several messages written on the bark of trees, evidently quite fresh, one of which stated that the ex-prisoners meant to make their way eventually to Ahi-Kereru, a settlement on the
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western side of the Uriwera country at a spot sometimes called Te Whaiti. At first these messages suggested a possibility of a detachment of Te Kooti's force being behind us, perhaps being sent towards the Upper Wairoa for recruiting purposes, but I concluded that any detachment shortly expected to return would not have required to know the ultimate destination of Te Kooti, as Ahi-kereru was distant, and encumbered as they were, the ex-prisoners could not reach it for weeks. We therefore hastened on along a hillside overhanging the Ruaki-ture river which we occasionally saw below us, and at length the trail turned down to the bed of the stream and ascended the valley along its banks.
Shot after shot, at short intervals, probably fired at pigeons, proved to us how close we were to the object of our pursuit; at each shot the men pushed forward faster, and became more hopeful. Our advanced guard, led by Mr. Davis Canning, who besides being one of the bravest gentlemen to be met with, was a most excellent bushman, pressed on almost too impetuously, and in each turn in the river all eyes were strained to catch a glimpse of the enemy. It was a fine day, and though the nights were cold, the sun at mid-day was hot, and the men marching on empty stomachs began to suffer from fatigue. At last we came to a spot where Te Kooti had evidently encamped before crossing the stream, the fires being still alight. It was
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past mid-day, well on to one o'clock, and we halted in the bed of the stream. The men took this opportunity to remind me respectfully of my promise. No shots had been heard for some time. Hunger and fatigue began to tell on the bravest and the strongest of the force. The river swollen with snow water did not look inviting to cross, and I felt I had at last reached the limit of what was practicable. Reluctantly and regretfully, I had acquiesced in the justice of my men's representations, and in a few minutes more we should have begun to retrace our steps. My disappointment was I suppose apparent, for Captain Carr, of the Royal Artillery, begged me to allow him to make his way a little further on through the bush upon our side of the river to the next bend in order to reconnoitre, adding the characteristic remark, "And then if I cannot see them we can return, consoling ourselves that we have trailed our coat through the Uriwera country, and nobody has dared to jump upon it." I made no objection, and he disappeared in the bush. In a very short time he returned bright and cheerful, and the men crowded round to hear his report. Not a hundred yards, he said, beyond the next bend, there appeared to be an island in the river, and at that point the enemy was halted, apparently awaiting us. The distance was not great, perhaps four or five hundred yards in all, and no very great obstacle seemed to intervene. This intelligence changed the aspect of affairs. The men,
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anxious before to return, now besought me to lead them on. I waited long enough to satisfy myself whether the enthusiasm was genuine, but when it was clearly the wish of the force to release me from my promise, the advance was ordered, and we plunged into the ford. The water was cruelly cold, at all points up to our waists, and in some spots deeper. To keep our powder dry, the men fastened their pouches round their necks and slung their carbines muzzle downwards. The force of the stream was such that they had to form a sort of chain, six or eight holding hands to steady themselves against the stream, and to prevent falling over the boulder stones of the bed. We found that we had to cross two or three times in all before we reached the next bend where the enemy opened fire directly we came in sight. Taking cover behind some immense rocks until they had put themselves into trim, and had overcome the shivering and teeth-chattering caused by the coldness of the water, the men in a few minutes advanced resolutely to the attack. Captain Herrick, however, with the Maories, I had directed to re-cross the river to take the enemy on the island in flank and reverse. I cannot say Captain Herrick was very well seconded in his efforts by his men. The white volunteers were not trained soldiers and set a bad example to the Maori volunteers, but some of each force did fairly well, and several most gallantly. An old chief from Napier, Paul Kaiwhata,
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got into position behind a rock in the bed of the stream and fired away as fast as he could load, though recognized by the ex-prisoners who knew him well, and addressed him by name. Captain Herrick, with a portion of his force, at length gained the position assigned to him, and fired upon Te Kooti's right rear. Upon this I directed the advance guard to move on, and unfortunately Captain Carr and Mr. Canning went with it. I had not regained the front of the column, as the scramble along the river bed was difficult, and I had been obliged to go back to despatch Captain Herrick's force to make the movement I have described. By the time I did reach the spot the advance guard had been driven back with the loss of both Captain Carr and Mr. Canning. The former suffering from the infirmity of deafness, had not in all probability heard the voices of the advance guard calling them back, and thus fallen among the enemy. Mr. Canning was, however, shot dead leading the men. I at once pushed on again and recovered the ground, though unhappily we could not find Mr. Canning's body. The enemy were now retiring, and in so dense a bush we could no longer see distinctly as the winter evening was closing in. There was nothing for it therefore but to return. We had no food and several wounded. If there was a road or any dry spot to encamp we could not see to find it; so I had to draw off the men before the twilight changed to dark. Luckily Te Kooti himself had
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been wounded, and had experienced losses heavier than our own. He had been driven from the island, and was in full retreat towards Puketapu, a mountain in the Uriwera country, at the foot of which the action was fought. Had we had another hour's daylight we should probably have turned his retreat into a flight and captured some of his pack horses with provisions. As it was, we had to return ignorant of his condition, and only guessing it by the fact that no attempt whatever was made, except a few desultory shots, probably from a few men left as a rearguard, to molest us as we retired. We bore off our wounded, however, getting them across the river with the greatest possible difficulty. We were wholly unable to carry away the dead. No one knew in what direction poor Captain Carr had fallen, and our search for Mr. Canning had been unsuccessful. We knew him to be dead, as he had fallen with the advance guard, and had even sent back his revolver and carbine to me with the message that he had died doing his duty. It took sixteen men, eight on each side, to steady each bearer of a wounded man in crossing the river, and the few remaining of our force were required to protect the rear from attack, if it should be attempted. It was a great effort of endurance marching back to our blankets with the wounded through the night. The natives did not assist in this labour, but they provided a huge fire to dry the men after they had crossed the river for the last time. All
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the night our men toiled up the hill, carrying the wounded, a hill so easy to descend in daylight and in high spirits, but at night with the groans of several seriously wounded men ringing in their ears, after the reaction from great excitement had set in, when hunger began to press upon them, and the hard frost of the Uriwera country chilled them to the marrow of their bones, the long ascent at a snail's pace was trying and painful to a degree. It was mid-day before we reached the blankets. In ten minutes the cooked colt was devoured by the ravenous men, and the bleeding shank bones were struggled for to complete the meal. At 4 p.m., I ordered the force to march, and by that time a few hours' rest had restored the strength so much tried in the twenty-nine hours of the previous day. Happily Mr. Gascoigne had not failed us, and by marching two hours back towards the Hangaroa, the men were enabled to obtain a decent meal. The indecisive engagement of the Ruaki-ture undoubtedly tempered the triumph with which Te Kooti presented himself to the Uriwera; wounded, with a considerable loss, he had not quite the prestige which after Paparatu and Waihau he had gained. It was all we could do, and it had a certain moral effect, hardly worth the cost of so many valuable lives to a superficial critic, but to the Maori mind a great deal nevertheless. To us who had come in brotherhood to help our fellow-countrymen of Poverty Bay, it was grievous to
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think, that what we, by ourselves, could only partially perform, must have been decisively successful had we had the assistance of the men whom we had gone so far and risked our lives to help. But it had been a feat of human endurance as well as of ordinary "pluck" such as the Colonial force had never before accomplished. To this day those who underwent the hardships and privations of those few days are wont to talk of them as Arctic travellers do of their more painful trials. Hardly as we Colonial troops can expect to meet with sympathy or encouragement in a Colony as yet too young to possess a national spirit, still it was with disgust even more than disappointment that our men found that the trade of politics had so influenced the leading professors of the art in the Colony, that no credit was given to them for their exertions, and that the honour which was their due was withheld by those who opposed the Government.
The massacre three months later of those they knew best, and, alas! many helpless ones whom they loved, was the direct consequence of the conduct of the Poverty Bay men, and doubtless they have regretted it since. We at the moment were sorrowing over the untimely death of our two gallant friends, Captain Carr and Mr. Canning, and felt very bitter, and could see no justification for the treatment we had experienced.
