CHAPTER IV.
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CHAPTER IV.
TWO years passed without the Kaiapoi people hearing anything further about Te Rauparaha, and they were beginning to flatter themselves that he would never return to trouble them again, when they were rudely awakened from their false security in a way they least expected.
Towards the close of 1830 an English brig, commanded by Captain Stewart, entered Akaroa Habour for the avowed purpose of purchasing flax fibre for the Sydney market. The first Maoris who approached the vessel were told that no Maoris would be allowed on board till their Chief Tamaiharanui had conferred with the Captain. The Chief was absent at the time, and a messenger was immediately dispatched to Little River to fetch him; but as he was busy preparing a cargo of flax for one of his Sydney customers, he did not comply with the first summons, and it was not till the eighth day that he came alongside the brig, accompanied by his wife and their little daughter Ngaroimata (tear-drops). He was cordially welcomed by the Captain, who took him below to the cabin, under the guise of hospitality; he was barely seated before a
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cabin door opened, and Te Rauparaha and Rangihaeata, accompanied by several other Kapiti Chiefs, entered. They at once seized and bound Tamaiharanui, taunting him all the while with his simplicity in falling so readily into the trap prepared for him. After the seizure of the Chief the Maoris, who till then had not been allowed to come near the ship, were invited to come on board, and under one pretext or another were induced to go below, where Rauparaha and one hundred and seventy of his warriors were secreted. Canoe loads of people continued to come on board for many hours, there being no suspicion of foul play, owing to its being the practice of the people when trading with vessels visiting the port to remain on board for hours together. On the dawn of the second day after Tamaiharanui's capture, Te Rauparaha attacked his Pah at Takapuneke. The place was unfortified and undefended; and after killing a hundred of the inhabitants, he carried the rest, numbering fifty, away with him as prisoners. The following day the brig sailed for Kapiti. During the voyage Tamaiharanui smothered his little daughter, appropriately named tear-drops, with his mat as she slept beside him one night, lest she should ever become the wife of one of his enemies. His captors were very much enraged with him for doing what he did, and fearing he might commit suicide and escape the punishment in store for him, they bound his hands and
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fastened him securely to a ringbolt in the hold. His vindictive foes watched with cruel satisfaction the suffering their precautionary measures occasioned their prisoner. On reaching the island stronghold of Kapiti, Tamaiharanui was handed over to the widow of Te Pehi, who put him to death by slow and nameless tortures. Base as the means adopted for his capture were, and cruel as his fate was, it is impossible to feel much pity for Tamaiharanui. His punishment was hardly more than he deserved. The treatment he received at the hands of the Ngatitoa was little more than a repetiton of the cruelties which he had himself inflicted on members of his own tribe.
To persons unacquainted with the social customs of the Maori before European civilization obliterated the distinction which prevailed between the noble and the plebian, and upset all social order, and reduced the entire race to one dead level of social inferiority in the presence of the Pakeha, it may appear strange to be told that the Maoris were far more ceremonious in their social intercourse with each other, and more attentive to etiquette than Europeans generally are. But the Maoris have long given up the polite courtesies which distinguished their intercourse with each other, and the respectful demeanour which their ancient customs required them to manifest towards their superiors, for the graceless familiarity of intercourse introduced by the white man. It may be that the
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Maoris carried their punctilliousness to excess, and that too great deference was paid to Chiefs of the highest rank; but that only makes their present mannerlessness the more apparent. The behaviour of the Kaiapoi people to Tamaiharanui who was the Upoko Ariki, Chief Priest and heir of the ancestral honors of Ngaiterangiamoa, the noblest family of Ngai Tahu illustrates the relation which existed between a Chief and his people, and the way in which respect for his person was shewn. As the hereditary spiritual head of the tribe, he was regarded with peculiar reverence and awe. The common people did not even dare to look upon his face, and his equals felt his sacred presence an oppressive restriction upon their liberty of action, for even an accidental breach of etiquette while holding intercourse with him, might involve them in serious loss of property, if not of life. His visits were always dreaded, and his movements, whenever he entered a Pah, were watched with great anxiety by the inhabitants: for if his shadow happened to fall upon a whata or a rua (storehouses for food) while he was passing through the crowded lanes of a town, it was immediately destroyed with all its contents, because it would be an impardonable insult for a commoner to eat food upon which the sacred shadow of an Ariki noble had fallen. There was little in Tamaiharanui's personal appearance to mark his aristocratic lineage. His figure was short and thick set, his
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complexion dark and his features rather forbidding. Unlike most Maori Chiefs of exalted rank, he was cowardly, cruel, and capricious, an object of dread to friends and foes like; and however much his people may have mourned the manner of his death, they could not fail to experience a sense of relief when he was gone.
After the shock caused by the startling news of Rauparaha's raid on Akaroa, the Kaiapoi community soon resumed their ordinary occupations.
Every morning shortly after dawn, a stream of persons of all ages might have been seen issuing from the gates, and wending their way along the narrow paths which led to the Kumera and other plantations, which were spread over the district on the sheltered side of the forest which stretched from Woodend to Rangiora. By ten o'clock the women had cooked in the fields the first meal of the day; the smoke of their cooking fires, as it ascended in the still morning air, being the signal to all who wanted a meal to make for the spot. While the strong and able-bodied were occupying themselves in the fields, the old people remained in and about the Pah; the women engaged in weaving mats or baskets, or tidying up their premises, and the men seated singly or in groups, occupied themselves with carving wood or rubbing shapeless pieces of greenstone into meres, axes, or ear ornaments. The Chiefs of highest rank selected a neighbouring sandhill,
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which was called after their names, and known as So-and-So's "look out," where they sat and worked in their solitary grandeur. The boys and girls romped and played in the open spaces round the buildings, after the manner of children all the world over. In imitation of their elders, the boys often engaged in mimic warfare using toy spears and other weapons; and in later times employing occasionally in their encounters with each other Korari sticks, to represent firearms. Having scooped a hole in the part of the stick representing the stock end of the barrel, they filled it with fine wood ash; and when they discharged their imitation guns, they blew the light dust out of the hole to represent powder smoke, and at the same time made a sound to imitate the report of the gun. One boy who lived to sit as representative of the South Island in the General Assembly of New Zealand, in one of these encounters, was seen by his eldest sister to enter a house where a tempting pile of soft wood ash lay upon the hearth just suited for his purpose, forgetting in the excitement of the moment, the wickedness of the act 1 according to the notions of his people, he sacriligeously appropriated the ashes and charged his gun with them; but he had hardly fired it before his sister seized him and forced some detestable filth into his mouth, not so
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much to punish him for the offence as to ensure his cleansing his mouth from every vestige of the sacred ash, which if left anywhere about him would probably have caused his death; and partly to impress upon his youthful mind the enormity of the offence of which he had been guilty, and so prevent his ever repeating it. But it must not be supposed that the children had nothing else to do but to play, and were allowed to grow up in unbridled liberty and ignorance. All boys of Rangatira rank were obliged to attend the classes taught during the winter months in the Wharekura, by persons learned in History, Mythology, and the various branches of knowledge possessed by the Maoris. Though the time spent under instruction was short, the lessons were difficult, and the discipline severe. The following reminiscence of a Maori school-boy's experience, communicated to the writer by one of the last to receive instruction in the old-fashioned way, will give some idea of what an ardent seeker after knowledge had to face in olden times in his efforts to acquire it. The disorganisation caused by Rauparaha's raids interferred to such an extent with the regular routine of Pah life, that the usual classes for instruction were discontinued for a while; and the narrator of the following story, who was then about fourteen years of age, seeing no immediate chance of the instruction classes being resumed, and dreading the thought of growing up in ignorance, begged his father
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who was a very learned man, to impart to him the knowledge he thirsted for. His father, however, turned a deaf ear to his entreaties, telling him that the "old fashion" was evidently about to pass away, that the Pakeha would soon dominate the land, and then the "Maori-scholar's sacred back would be defiled by having to carry burdens for him." The Atuas would resent the desecration of their consecrated servant, and put him to death; and as he did not wish to have any hand in shortening his own child's life, he would not consent to initiate him. The boy cried and pleaded so hard and so perseveringly for the gratification of his cherished wish, that one old Chief, who was a sort of Maori college don named Taiarorua, took pity upon and agreed to become his instructor. But before doing so, he subjected him to very disagreeable treatment to test the sincerity of his protested love of learning. The old Tohunga took him first to a certain spot in the river-bed of the Selwyn. On the way there, he wrapped up something very filthy and disgusting in a cabbage leaf, which he told his pupil to place on his head. On reaching the river they both sat down in a part where the stream was flowing rapidly, and the Tohunga began to repeat various incantations, pouring water all the time with the palm of his hand over the neophyte's head, who was directed while this was going on to eat the contents of the cabbage leaf; but this he revolted from
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doing, and after touching his teeth with it dropped it into the stream. He was told that the object of the lustration was that his ears might be opened to the instruction he was about to receive. This preliminary ceremony being over, they adjourned to the whare Purakaunui 2 or schoolroom, where the classes met during term time. When the pupils assembled at the usual hour the Tohunga told them to disperse that evening, as he was busy initiating a new pupil. After they had all gone he resumed the initiatory ceremonies. The lad was sent to collect a few wild cabbage leaves, which he was directed to give to his mother to cook in a sacred oven. When it was prepared the old men formed a circle on the sacred ground near the Atuas Shrine, into the centre of which the boy was led. The food was brought into the circle, and one of the old men fed the boy, while his instructor repeated incantations over him; this concluded, the lad was free to attend the classes in the Wharekura. 3
Occasionally there would be a tremendous uproar in the Pah, owing to some gossip while retailing the tittle-tattle of her set to a select circle of her friends, letting out that Mrs. Somebody had said that Mrs. Somebody else need not assume such "airs" when it was well known that the body of her great grandfather had
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served to furnish her own great grandfather with a very good meal. As soon as the candid friend who always officiated on such occasions had imparted to the disparaged lady the spiteful remarks of her jealous rivals, with shrieks and screams she immediately sought the presence of her traducer, at whom she raved in unmeasured terms, flinging back the aspersion cast upon her lineage, by asserting that her family had eaten far more members of the families of those who set themselves up as her equals, and defied them to disprove her assertion. Working herself into a perfect frenzy she would throw off all her clothes, and rush about waving her arms like a maniac. Around her would gather every soul within hearing, the women all talking, and shouting, and screaming together, all giving their opinions at once, and contradicting one another. The men squatted round, watching the proceedings with great amusement, occasionally interjecting a sarcastic remark upon the personal defects of their lady friends which only added fuel to the fire, and increased the confusion of a scene which could only be compared to Bedlam let loose.
The "Artful Dodger" was not unknown in the native community, by whom he was called the grandson of Whanoke. The following is one of the many stories which are told about the clever devices he resorted to in order to gain his dishonest ends. Somewhere in the neighbourhood of Rangiora there was a sort of
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military storehouse, where provisions were kept for the use of warriors who might be suddenly called upon to go out on the war-path. Amongst other things was a large case of potted wood-fowl; Whanoke coveted the delicious contents of the case, but the difficulty was to get rid of the persons placed in charge of it. A happy thought occurred to him one day which led to the accomplishment of his purpose. Rumours were abroad that a neighbouring tribe was meditating an attack, but no one thought that there was any immediate cause for alarm, till one day Whanoke rushed up to the keepers of the storehouse in great alarm, and informed them that he had just met a large war party who would be upon them in the course of a few minutes, and that their only chance of escaping immediate death was to seek the shelter of the nearest fortress. Scared by the statement so cunningly devised, the guardians of the storehouse ran away with all speed, leaving Whanoke to appropriate the contents of the whata at his leisure.
About this period the Kaiapoi people became acquainted for the first time with European food and clothing, through the Sydney traders, who visited Whangaraupo (Port Cooper) and other harbours on the coast, to barter with them for flax fibre. It soon became the ambition of every Maori of standing to secure something Pakeha; but owing to their ignorance of the nature of many of the things offered to them for sale, the
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selection which they made sometimes led to very amusing results. One Chief chose a case of what he understood contained the preserved fat of a large land animal--corresponding to the whale of the ocean--which was highly esteemed as an article of food by Europeans. On the occasion of a great feast, to which the whole Pah was invited, the case was brought out from the Whata with a great parade of hospitality by the owner, and opened amidst the plaudits of the guests who were all eager to taste the Pakeha food. The host explained that, like their own potted birds' flesh, this preserved meat required no cooking and was fit for immediate use. As the number of persons who wished to taste it was so great, the contents of the box were broken up into small pieces which were served out to the guests who commenced to munch them at once; but great was their surprise on finding the meat so difficult of mastication owing to the froth which accumulated in their mouths. Some, thinking themselves more knowing than the rest swallowed their portions without attempting to chew them, but the after effects did not encourage them to add soap to their dietary, and they continued to marvel how the white man contrived to swallow and keep down the fat of oxen, till further intercourse taught them the proper use to which soap was put.
Though the trade between the Pakehas and Maoris was on the whole fairly conducted,
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the temptation to take advantage of their ignorance sometimes proved too strong to resist, and a cask of sugar on being landed would sometimes be found to contain more sand than sugar. These traders were the pioneer importers of animal and vegetable pests. The Norwegian rat, which they unwittingly introduced, soon overran the country, and supplanted the native rat which was a harmless creature, very like the field mouse of Europe. The vegetable pest was knowingly introduced with the intention of defrauding the Maoris, who having learnt that tobacco was made from the leaf of a plant, became very desirous to secure some seed, and the traders promised to procure it for them, provided they were well paid for their trouble. But as no tobacco plants grew in Australia something else had to be substituted, and docks being plentiful a supply of the seed of that plant was collected and brought to
New Zealand, where the Maoris paid a high price for it, and cultivated it with the greatest care, under the impression that it was the "fragrant weed" they had learnt to love.
The Kaiapoi people knew nothing at this time about any animals but dogs and native rats, never having seen or heard of the Captain Cook variety of porker, which up to that time had not appeared in the country districts, where it afterwards became so numerous. From those who boarded the trading vessels they heard a good deal about some strange animals--
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altogether unlike the only quadrupeds they were familiar with. Great was the excitement in the Pah caused by the news that two of these strange creatures were about to arrive, having been purchased by an enterprising Chief, belonging to the place. On the day they were to reach the Pah all business was stopped, and the oldest and gravest persons in the community were as excited and agitated as the youngest. The whole population went outside and waited by the road along which they understood that the pigs were to come. Many hours passed, and the younger people kept running backwards and forwards along the road leading to the Waimakariri to try and get tidings of the approaching strangers. The patience of the crowd was well nigh exhausted when loud shouts were heard in the distance, and the news was soon passed along that Hinewaitutu and Tahututua, the names bestowed by the owner on his new purchases, had arrived. Immediately the cry arose, "Come! Come! Come! and see these strange creatures. There was a general rush to the spot, and the narrow path was soon completely blocked. The exclamations of wonder and astonishment which those who first caught sight of the pigs gave vent to, served to heighten the curiosity of less fortunate persons in the rear, who craned their necks and pressed with all their might to catch a glimpse of what was causing those who enjoyed a better view so much wonder. As the pigs came waddling
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along from side to side, jerking at every stride the string by which their drivers held them, the crowd made way, and formed an admiring circle round them. The old people gazed wonderingly upon them, and expressed in warm terms their feeling of satisfaction at having seen what former generations had never seen. The excitement was intense, and the noise caused by everyone shouting their comments at the same time, deafening. All were remarking upon the appearance of the strange creatures, drawing attention to the curious shape of their snouts and ears and tails and feet, when the pigs began to grunt, "Silence, silence," roared the immediate bystanders. "Silence, that we may listen to the voice of the pig." The silence was of very short duration, for no sooner did the crowd hear the grunting than there rose from their lips the simultaneous exclamation, "Ananah! Ananah! verily the voice and language of the pig are as strange as its appearance."
