1889 - Wilson, J. A. Missionary Life and Work in New Zealand - PART II: TE PURIRI, 1834-35.

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PART II.

TE PURIRI, 1834-35.

April 26th. --After long contrary winds and a bad passage, we anchored to-day off Kopu and landed our families at Puriri. When they had left the vessel, the natives, some naked others nearly so, rushed into the hold, tumbling and rolling over each other in the wildest confusion with great noise, each man taking whatever he could seize of the cargo into his canoe and on to the settlement. When the things were afterwards examined nothing seemed to be missing, and, strange to say, but little damage done to anything.

Sunday, 27th. -- At morning service about 300 natives were present. The Rev. W. Williams addressed them; they listened with attention. The Lord be gracious unto them, poor people! At evening service the mission families partook of the Lord's Supper.

June 12th. --Upon returning at dusk from a walk with Mr. Morgan among the villages, we came upon a number of people standing in a circle near to Mr. Preece's house. They stood with their faces inwards and were wailing over the dead. The men stood close together, so that it was difficult to see what was the matter. I looked over the shoulders of one of them and saw Mapu (a chief) sitting naked, with the exception of a coloured handkerchief round his loins, on which he held a man's preserved head. Before him, with little clothing to cover her, and prostrate at full length on her face, her hair dishevelled and plentifully besmeared with rain and mud, lay a woman, who continued to roll from side to side on the wet earth. She extended her bare arms over her head and endeavoured with hideous cries to pull the head towards herself, passing her hands over the face and through the hair, without looking at what she did. But Mapu, to prevent her removing it, continued to hold the head firm in its place, while he and the bystanders maintained a continuous wail, sometimes approaching to a howl. We were told that this party had just returned from a visit to Tuhua, a distant island in the Bay of Plenty, that when they had left the island a short distance, the gunwale of their canoe gave way, that the men were all saved but one, and this, his head, was brought back to his widow, whose name is Totoia. 1 As we turned from them I could only think of their blank despair, without one ray of hope to brighten the future.

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23rd. --A missionary in New Zealand has often a strange variety of work. Though I am ignorant in such matters, yet of late I have built part of three chimneys (Mr. Williams taught me the art), also fencing, superintending the formation of roads, besides various secular occupations as novel as they are laborious. 2 May the honour of God be sought in all and His strength be my sufficiency.

24th. --To-day Mr. Fairburn and I visited and paid Ngatitamatera for work done on the swamp road between the Puriri and Te Kare (their great fortified pa). My horse had many falls in difficult places by the way, but, as in other times and oft, I escaped unhurt. How often has God been my shield, the "lifter-up of my head."

1st July. --Instructing natives in clearing and fencing land. The Maori is incessantly wanting something or some information, and in the midst of these employments you are suddenly broken off to receive chiefs or visitors from a distance, who must be seen, and who, after a long talk of little profit, always expect some present, however small, before leaving. Then there is the purchase of provisions for some forty or fifty persons belonging to the station, visiting the sick, preparing medicine, etc. This is the daily round, and it leaves little time for reading or self-improvement. Shortly before leaving the Bay of Islands for this station, Captain George Lambert, in H. M. S. "Alligator" (with whom I had formerly served in the "Chameleon" in 1823) visited New Zealand. He came to recapture the wife and two children of the master of the "Harriet" brig. This vessel was lost at Taranaki about a year since. It appears that upon the second day after the wreck the natives came down upon the sailors, some of whom defended themselves behind a shelter they had made with the sails of the brig. They were soon overpowered and killed, and afterwards eaten. The master, named Garde, and a few men escaped in a whaleboat to Cook Strait, leaving the woman and children captives to the Maoris. Captain Lambert was the right man to send on such an expedition--brave, gentle, and humane. He was not a little surprised to find me in this country before him, and above all as a missionary. For a time, indeed, he was too astonished to speak. He came to our house, and I introduced him to Anne, with whom he was at once at ease. She was pleased with him--as well she might be--for none ever

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conversed with him without recognising the high-bred Christian Englishman; and I may add to his praise, the frank and simple mien of a naval officer. He afterwards invited me on board, where we had a long conversation on the past. In the evening he mentioned that, before leaving India, the Governor had asked him to give a New Zealand boy a passage to Australia, with the hope that he might finally reach his own country. He now wished me to take charge of him, and if his tribe could be found, to return him. The lad was about nineteen years of age, and his story was this: --That when a small boy a vessel took him from some part of the west coast, probably Kawhia, to Sydney (in 1820). Here he was neglected and cast away. In course of time he found his way to the barrack-yard in the centre of the town. A soldier observing the boy's want and destitution day by day, had compassion on him, and when his regiment moved to India took the lad with him, but the climate told upon his health, and the soldier then influenced those in power to send him back to his native country. This humane and good man had taken much interest and pains with the boy. He had him instructed in Christianity and baptized, and in parting he gave him a letter, in which he asked the favour of any who should see him in his own country to write a few words assuring him of the boy's safety, and expressing his sympathy and interest in all that might concern his future well-being, etc. When the youth showed me his protector's letter, I had only time to glance rapidly at it. The letter was shortly afterwards lost, and I could not remember the writer's name nor the number of his regiment. It was perhaps well that it was so, for as things soon after turned out, all that I could have told him would have proved sad and unwelcome to his kind nature. When I took him (Jack) from the frigate he had forgotten the Maori language, and spoke English indifferently; but in a month or two he acquired sufficient Maori to make himself understood. At the Puriri, far from all civilized influence, Jack at once threw off his European habits and clothes, took to the native garment and vices, and among his new friends he soon sunk below the ordinary Maori.

July 30th. --My third son, Francis Hawker, was born.

August 21st. --Jack, who left me a few days since, took away with him some of my things, which he knew would be acceptable to his friends. To-day I went to the house of the rangatira-- Matapihi--where he was living. As I approached, Matapihi, who had a counterpane of mine thrown over his shoulder, placed himself in the doorway of his house to prevent my passing. He was a

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young man of about thirty years of age, and he assumed a defiant attitude; he knew that I was seeking for Jack. I demanded my counterpane, which he knew was stolen, but he obstinately refused to restore it and behaved with much insolence and intimidation. On looking round I saw a box belonging to my young friend and was going home with it but Matapihi soon overtook me. He seized the box, and I also held fast, and in the struggle he tore off the lid which broke in two pieces. One of these he flourished over my head with Maori defiance and gesture, but I carried off the box and its contents. Now, we were ignorant of this man's character and should have avoided such an encounter. It was not till the evening that we heard who and what he was--the son-in-law to the old priest of Ngatimaru, and had the honourable distinction of toa --warrior of his tribe; one, in fact, whose obstinate courage and evil disposition was fully established. Nevertheless we were obliged to take notice of pilfering and theft, or nothing would have been safe in the settlement for a day. As I neared my house there was a great tumult, many calling out that I was already dead, killed by Te Matapihi, etc. The noise brought out my colleague, Mr. Fairburn, to meet me. Mr. Fairburn having been seven years in New Zealand before me, I considered him an experienced man, and now, upon hearing what had occurred, he urged my return, as it would never do to allow Matapihi to keep the stolen things. We went back together and found our friend barricading his door and preparing resistance. As soon as we arrived he sat himself quietly down, sullen and determined. Mr. Fairburn now asked me: "Where are your stolen things." I said, "The counterpane is mine." "If he will not give it, take hold of it," he replied. Now, as Mr. Fairburn understood the language and habits of the people, I foolishly obeyed, and in doing so the garment between us rent. Mr. Fairburn now saw his mistake in the character of the man we had to do with. In an instant he stood naked before us, and seizing a long, straight knife from among his clothes, he ran directly at me, but strove to stab us both. It was well for us that some guests had just arrived from Maketu, and this had drawn many people together. They were sitting at the end of the house, and, unknown to us, had been watching our proceedings. They knew Te Matapihi better than we did, and no sooner saw him naked than they rushed in, and the house was densely filled with naked men, and before he could strike me some of them were between us. The place was perhaps 14ft. by 16ft., and so jammed and closely packed by the people who came to the rescue, that my assailant could not force his way

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as he would. Twice, however, he got so near that the point of the knife nearly touched my breast. And now the difficulty was that he being a chief living with a very sacred priest, everything about this man was tapu also, and no one present dare disarm him. At last the son of Tuma (chief of the tribe), after a long struggle to force his way through the press, came behind him, and as he was again endeavouring to strike (though much exhausted), gently took hold of his wrist, and Te Matapihi let go the knife to him. The house was then cleared by the chiefs, and we were escorted by some of them to our homes. While this attack of Te Matapihi upon myself was going on I felt ashamed to move or make any effort to get out of his way, and though unarmed, quietly abided the result. This, I still think, was quite necessary with such a people as the Maoris. What became of my colleague in the confusion I know not, yet he must have been in the house; but there was no possibility of my turning or looking about--it was a life and death struggle. These, and things like these, are some of the trials which missionaries are exposed to in such savage places as this. Yet the "Lord reigns," and the promise to Abraham is equally sure to them, "Fear not, I am thy shield."

22nd. --Some of the men and boys came early this morning to see if I was yet alive. Their kind anxiety kindled in me feelings not unknown in missionary life. Since yesterday at noon, the village and settlement has been full of noise and confusion. The two tribes which live near us--Ngatimaru and the Ngatitumutumu-- are divided about the affair of yesterday. Part of the people, among whom is the principal chief Tuma, espouse our quarrel, and about an equal number are on the other side; both are making ready to do battle. It may, end in a serious kind of tournament, which sometimes finishes in a general engagement. At noon, Mr. Fairburn and myself visited Tuma to dissuade him from violence. We found him and his people actively preparing. Some had just cleaned and burnished their weapons; others, like the Greeks of old, were sitting in the open combing their hair and anointing themselves, decorating their heads with a few choice feathers, or trying their arms; all equally busy and cheerful for the encounter. At first they were unwilling to regard anything we had to say, and to the last, notwithstanding our persuasions to peace, they would make no promise. This gave us concern, as a false or severe act on the part of our friends might lead to the destruction of the settlement. So, leaving them, we went over to the enemy, among whom Te Matapihi was one of the leaders. We found them already fully armed and ready for

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their opponents. They said little, and took less notice of us. We then took up a position a few yards from where the fray was to take place. Our adversaries now moved out a short distance, then crouched down and formed an oblong square, the right knee resting on the ground ready to spring, and their arms, which were double-barrelled guns, muskets, and war hatchets, advanced in front. They were all quite naked, with the exception of a leathern strap round the waist. We had been standing but a short time when the Ngatimaru, under our friend Tuma, appeared. They stood for a moment in front of my house, and after arranging their order, rushed on to the attack, discharging their pieces at the run. Seeing no one fall among our opponents, I concluded the affair would end well. Meanwhile the enemy remained unmoved, quiet and determined. But when the attacking party had arrived within a hundred yards in front of them, they with gun, axe, and spear, closed on the adversary, who also sprang from the ground (where they had crouched) and came forward to meet them. At this instant the women and even the big children of both tribes rushed in, regardless of danger, and seizing their arms, dragged them forcibly away, the men gradually letting them go. A fierce unarmed conflict ensued. They fell to with their hands and fists; some wrestled, and were violently thrown down and trampled in the mud, without distinction of age or rank, rolling fiercely over each other. Others grasped the long hair, and the weaker were thrown with heavy falls. All did their best, both young and old. rangatira and ware, without distinction of any kind. A sort of savage tournament, which any mishap would have turned into a dire reality. When they had given and received enough, they suddenly formed up into one solid body, presenting one front, and commenced the war dance with an effect which Maoris, only when excited, can give to it. This passage of arms was, according to Maori etiquette and chivalry, the greatest compliment they could have paid us. It was intended as a mark of distinction and honour; also as a satisfaction for the outrage of the previous day. When quiet was restored and the people seated in due order on the ground, many speeches were delivered by the rangatiras, eulogising the missionaries and reprobating the conduct of Te Matapihi. Their language was most disinterested and friendly, and their kindness restored our confidence. After their addresses Mr. Fairburn answered in reply, assuring them that the only motive which brought us to this country to live among them was not for our own sakes, but simply to instruct them in religion and virtue, that they might live happy in this life and in that beyond

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the present, etc. Towards the close of the day there was a general feeling of regret for what had happened, and presents were brought to us, but Te Matapihi made no advances. All thanks and gratitude to God for the mercies of the past day.

September 23rd. --Late this evening a messenger came from the Thames with bad tidings, and Tini, the ariki of the various tribes, caused an alarm to be sounded to gather the people from the villages and hills. It appears that two nights since, the Waikatos made a sudden descent on Whakatiwai. The surprise was complete, fifty slain on the spot and about the same number taken away as slaves. It was a bright moonlight night, and Mr. Fairburn and myself remained long with the natives. The cause which led Waikato to make this assault occurred before we came to the Puriri, when a man and woman were barbarously killed by a chief named Kohinaki, and afterwards eaten near our present settlement; these unhappy people were at the time on a visit to some friends. Hence the retribution, which too often falls heavily upon the innocent. No sooner had the karere finished his story than men were posted at the mouth of the river and the outskirts of the tribe, the people remaining under arms all night. It is a singular feature in the character of the Maoris, that Kohinaki, who had been the cause of this slaughter at Whakatiwai and who belongs to that tribe, is not considered responsible for this calamity thus brought upon his relatives; on the contrary, he is mentioned and treated with greater respect than before.

24th. --Mr. Brown and myself have been appointed by the Committee at the North to form a station at Matamata, about fifty miles from this. To make all necessary arrangements for this move, Messrs Brown, Preece, and myself have left for the Bay of Islands in the boat.

Sunday, 28th. --Pitched in tents at Mangawai. A day of rest! Mr. Preece spoke to the natives at morning service from Heb. xii. 2. How sweet and tranquil are Sabbaths thus spent in the solitary bush. The coast-line from Whakatiwai to the Bay of Islands is almost uninhabited, and, with the exception of occasional fishing parties, unfrequented. In this wide extent nothing is to be seen or heard but the birds, trees, and sea, with the fresh breeze "breathing soft or loud;" so profound is the solitude that it makes the day of rest doubly solemn. Peaceful hours!

October 2nd. --Cape Brett is the bold eastern headland of the Bay of Islands. It is a sort of little Cape Horn to open boats and canoes. An immense and imposing rock about a third of a mile from it forms a deep water passage. The natives in their

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war expeditions generally managed to pass through this channel at daylight, as then there is little wind and less swell on the sea. In rounding it this morning the water was very broken. We reached the station at Paihia by four o'clock in the afternoon. Received by kind friends. Found all well. 3

Puriri Station, June 18th. --This morning, accompanied by my son John, we left the Puriri to visit the new station recently formed by Rev. A. N. Brown and myself at Matamata. We had with us two chiefs of some consequence belonging to Waikato, who wero in some danger, owing to the unfriendly terms existing between Waikato and the tribes among whom we live. On this account Tuma and his brother Tohi (chief men at the Puriri) undertook to convoy us past the Kare pa, a fortified village of the Ngatitematara. The river in front of this place is not broad, and as we were pulling past, Potiki, their chief, hailed the canoes; so we rested on our paddles. He then commenced a most violent harangue. The theme was war. In person this man is a model in physical proportions, and few Europeans possess more dignity and natural ease; but now all his soft qualities were laid aside, his rage was unbounded, and though some sixty-five years of age, to give emphasis to all he said, he sprang from the ground with the strength and activity of a young man. Tuma, like a wise strategist, allowed him fully to exhaust himself, and when Potiki had sat down and could say no more, he replied kindly, speaking on the excellence of peace, the evil of malice, and wishing the past to remain past, etc. But Potiki would have none of this, and instead of noticing anything Tuma had said, he urged him to kill the men. This he refused to do. We remained quietly on our paddles to see what would follow. After a while they allowed us to row on without firing.

19th. --Delayed by a thick fog on the river. At sunset arrived at Houkahukura, a pa of the Whakatohea. As we opened on it from the last bend of the river, the chief Patupo, to give us

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welcome, stood on a high whata which, overlooked the river. As our men pulled rapidly to the landing-place the last light of the evening sun fell directly on his figure, which, having the dark forest as a background, had a striking effect. He waved his hani. passing it from right to left, as only a skilful native can. This from the head chief, as he stood alone, was Maori usage and welcome to Houkahukura. There is something chivalrous in the custom.

20th. --Here the Puriri chiefs bid us farewell. They told me to to be kind (atawhai) to the people among whom I was going (so recently their bitter enemies), and then turning to the Matamata men, desired them to protect and show kindness to me. I regretted parting with these good men; they have on all occasions proved themselves true friends. In the afternoon it began to rain, and having pulled fourteen miles, we landed and made preparations for the Sabbath. Pitched on the edge of the river in a forest, everything wet, but spot well situated and comfortable. In the evening endeavoured to explain to the Maoris the birth of Moses and the deliverance of Israel from Egypt. The Maori always manifests much interest in Scripture narrative.

23rd. --Late in the evening we reached the mission-house in the woods--cold, wet, and hungry.

25th. --Sharpened my pit-saw. I had learned to do this shortly after arriving in New Zealand, but it is a dreadful occupation to a beginner. We then got a log on the pit, a very nice operation, having the assistance of natives only, and knowing nothing about such matters. However, we succeeded pretty well, and no limbs were broken. In the evening spent some time with the sick.

26th. --Took a long walk with Wharau (a native priest) to see the sick. Afterwards cleared a place for a garden, and superintending the sawyers, etc. In the evening conducted the service. Enable me, blessed Lord, in every labour to look and depend on Thee, without which all is naught!

July 1st. --The number of sick increase--it appears epidemical. Priestcraft and superstition attribute the number of deaths lately, and present sickness to this new religion. They say our God has done all this.

2nd. --Te Waharoa, Mr. Brown, and myself went round the boundary of the settlement previous to the purchase. It appeared to be about thirty-five acres. The old chief seemed unsatisfied with the offered payment, which consisted of blankets, shirts, spades, iron pots, axes, adzes, etc., and he made some shrewd remarks on the durability of the land contrasted with that of the

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payment. "These," he said, "will soon be broken, worn out, and gone, but the ground will endure forever to supply our children and theirs." The keen old man might have been familiar with Solomon's "Wisdom," indeed his words were nearly the same-- "One generation passeth away and another generation cometh, but the earth abideth forever."

4th. --This afternoon Te Waharoa sold the land. He looked at the various goods, merely selecting two spades for himself, and the rest of the trade (as it is called) was received by the proprietor.

5th, Sunday. --At morning service Te Waharoa suddenly interrupted us by asking whether Mr. Brown or myself had ever been in heaven and seen the things we spoke of. Mr. Brown replied, No; but that God had made known what we taught by sending His Son from heaven. The service then went on.

Puriri, August 14. 14th. --Mr. Fairburn and myself examined an old pa called Te Totara, to ascertain what advantages it possessed for a mission station (the Puriri being low and unhealthy). The Totara pa some years since was taken by Ngapuhi through treachery. When it fell there wore 2,000 natives within; 1,000 were slain, many of whom were eaten. The principal chief and his two sons perished in the assault. We found the place unsuitable for a station.

Puriri Sfation, Sunday, August 23rd. --After morning service Mr. Fairburn and myself visited Kopu village. There were not many natives present. We were told that some of the people had left with the chief Kohinaki to cut off a party from Waikato who had come to Whakatiwai with the intention of making peace. A Christian native living at Kopu also informed us that the Waikato chief was Te Wharepu; that he had left his canoes and the women of his party, with a few men to protect them, at a swampy river called Maramarua, there waiting the chief's return; that Kohinaki was about to destroy these, and would leave for the place in the night. We at once purposed to frustrate his design. The day was fine, but there was a strong wind from the west, direct against crossing the Thames. It was now about three o'clock in the afternoon, so we determined to wait till night, when the wind would either slacken or go down and the tide be on the ebb. Knowing our cause to be just and good, we returned to Te Puriri, and made our preparations. After dark we pulled down the river, and in a few hours were standing across to the opposite coast. The night became gloomy and the sea unpleasantly high, but the hope of saving those appointed to death did away with all discomfort, and we toiled on, rowing till daylight.

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24th. --About o a. m. we found that we had kept too far down the Thames, and with a slight breeze stood more to the western side. As daylight came on the boat neared the shore, taking the sand about a mile and a-half out, and here we had to wait till the flood enabled us to enter a small creek which was the landing-place. After a hasty meal, with a quick foot we commenced our journey. I went on in front of our party, and as soon as I had gained the summit of the first hill, I saw two canoes on the sea, evidently steering for the mouth of the river, and there could be no doubt that this was Kohinaki. We had thus got a short start of him; but how he would meet us, if we warned his intended victims and disappointed his enterprise, we knew not. We were now obliged to quicken our pace into a run, and continued ascending and descending hill and valley until about two o'clock in the afternoon, when coming to the first streamlet, which was too deep to ford, and having no time to undress to swim it, we managed to cross by climbing a tree, and passing through its many branches, descended through the boughs of an opposite tree. The land now became less hilly, but there was scarcely the vestige of a pathway, and this was our difficulty. Yet we pushed on till four o'clock in the afternoon, the taua still behind us, and then we were obliged to sit down from sheer exhaustion, sending on our guide to reconnoitre. The wind had now veered to the east and the rain fell freely, the commencement of an easterly gale. At this moment one of our men, who had been behind the rest, came up and said that Kohinaki was close at hand. Our guide also returned and reported that he had caught sight of the Waikatos at Maramarua--about forty women and children with a few men, not more than three or four. We started up and moved rapidly on, but our way was overgrown with shrubs and fern, making it not a little difficult. We had not gone far when the report of a gun on our left caused us to throw away our cloaks and run in that direction. We could just see, through the thick rain, men surrounding a low dingle, stepping slowly and looking about, as sportsmen look for game. This mistake of Kohinaki's caused them a short delay, and this delay saved the Waikato people. Mr. Fairburn continued on towards these men, and the guide and myself pushed on for the canoes. The hills being clay, and the rain rushing down them with the gale, made it very difficult to keep one's footing; but when we reached the top of the hill overlooking the landing-place we saw the Waikatos seated in their canoes, paddle in hand, waiting, listening as to whether their alarm had any foundation. They were only a few yards from a temporary shelter they had

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made of raupo. On our shouting to them they appeared to understand, and were soon hid from pursuit in the tall raupo. As we reached the front of their hut the first man of the taua 4 came rapidly round the end of it. I knew they had all escaped, which he did not, and I saw his eagerness with indifference. He was a strong built man in his prime. He was naked, his face blacked, and armed with a battle-axe. He looked at me sternly as he passed swiftly, but said nothing; then continued his search, looking about for any that might have been left. He was instantly back at the door of the shed. I watched him, and he seemed nearly afraid to enter. This was but for a second; and with a bound he sprang in obliquely, making a parry with his weapon as he entered. On finding the place was empty he was out in a moment, and searching wildly for any straggler. This man was quickly joined by another. But the prey was delivered, and after in rage killing a pig, found at the back of the place, they were less violent. They now sought for arms, garments, etc., but, with the exception of the pig (which the first man had killed with his axe), the women had taken away everything. Kohinaki and his men now came up, followed by Mr. Fairburn. They were evidently aware that all was lost, and they came slowly and in silence, as men defeated of expectation. Kohinaki was more conspicuous than the rest of his party, his person fair, strong and active, and his head dressed with feathers--as Maoris only dress when war or mischief is before them. It was now nearly dark, the rain and wind increasing, and the only shelter was the long narrow shed, partly finished-- half of the roof still uncovered. This hovel was about eighteen feet long, nine wide, and seven feet in height. The natives, to make up for the rain which came through in every direction, lit two fires with green wood, near each end of the house, which filled it with smoke. Into this the taua, about thirty men, entered, and began to take off their wet garments and crouch round the fires,

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and into this pleasant abode for the night, we too, with our four natives, had to creep; it was either this or remain outside in a winter easterly gale. After a time we attempted to dry some of our clothes by one of the fires, but the smoke was so intolerable, and the heat of the place so great, notwithstanding it was only half roofed, that we were obliged to lie down with our faces nearly touching the earth. We remained in silence a long time, perhaps two or three hours, not a word being addressed to us, either by the chief, or his followers; this by no means a good omen in native etiquette and custom. We had brought no provisions with us, supposing Maramarua to be nearer to the coast, and after long waiting to see the mind of the taua and how things would be. we at last were about to lie down to try to sleep, to forget our hunger, lodging and society. Now it is an established custom in New Zealand never to begin or end the day without prayer, and though in this wretched predicament, Mr. Fairburn proposed that we should thus close the day. The armed men were sitting moodily by the fires, when we signified our wish to our people, who were all Christians. This night's service will never be forgotten by me; it was commenced by singing the sixth native hymn, the first words of which are:

The hymn, an invocation to Christ for the Holy Spirit's aid to regenerate the natural heart, and impress it with love to God, I had often heard and sung, but never before had it come home to me with such reality, or sounded with such sweetness and power, as in this solemn appeal to the Most High. It is a sacred and precious thought that the presence of God is not confined to any particular place or locality. We then prayed for this dark world, its sorrowing and erring children--that the God of mercy would be graciously pleased to bring them to a knowledge of Himself; and after thanks for the mercies of the day, we commended ourselves to God. Our simple service over, we said no more. For a time all remained quiet; none seemed willing to interrupt the silence in this strange place and on this still stranger occasion--nothing was heard but the storm, which appeared to be tearing the remainder of the roof from the shed, and the rain rattling against the raupo. The taua seemed as if struck by the fabled wand of some mighty magician. Their former reserve and low whispering ceased, and after a while they began to talk quietly to each other, and shortly afterwards they spoke to ourselves and to our natives. The gloom had passed away--their countenances became altered--and they now began to

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prepare some refreshments. Each of the taua had carried at his back a small flax basket of potatoes, containing some three or four handfuls. Of this slender stock they passed along (for there was no moving, for want of room) a liberal share for ourselves and our natives. After this the pig was cut up and roasted; but faint and hungry as I was it was nearly impossible to eat it. And now all restraint was thrown off, and the Maoris conversed freely and pleasantly. So the night wore on better than it had begun. At last, cold and weary, overpowered by the smoke, I fell asleep on a bundle of bullrushes, and when I awoke I found that I had been sleeping unconsciously on one of the men's heads as a pillow.

25th. --We slept but little during the night, chiefly owing to the intense smoke of the fires kept up by the taua, and it was with no little pleasure I saw the first signs of returning day. As it dawned the morning looked dark and watery, and though the storm had ceased there was the appearance of more rain. We gladly left the hut on our way back to the boat. The day was cold, and, as it advanced, the wind again rose with occasional heavy thunder and lightning. A great part of our way was covered with water, sometimes a foot deep; yet, such inconveniences as these were well repaid by the safety of the fugitives yesterday. Kohinaki, strange to say, walked with us most of the morning, conversing on many subjects, and occasionally touching on our religion. This continued till noon, when he and his party took another direction. This was to drag a canoe which they had taken from the Waikato into a stream that empties itself into the Thames. But before he left he sat down with us on the fern where we were resting after a stiff hill, and said, "If Te Waharoa and Waikato will desist and remain peaceable, I will, for the future, do the same, and this taua shall be the last that I will lead against them. As soon as I return to Kaueranga, I will get you to write a letter in my name to Te Waharoa, to assure him of my intentions, and to urge him and Waikato to sit still for the future that war may cease between us." His manner left no doubt of his sincerity, and we were only too happy to promise our help. Shortly after this we parted, he to help his friends with the canoe. When we came to the streamlet which was in our way yesterday, it was much swollen, so we constructed little rafts of flax stalk (moki). The moki only carries one person at a time. You sit as on horseback, the legs dangling on each side in the water act as ballast; the moki being very light it requires great steadiness in the person who astrides it to prevent a mishap. During the afternoon the rain fell in torrents, and the thunder rolled along the heavens in terrific peals. In passing over the last ridge of hills,

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Mr. Fairburn, unable to plod on, sat down and fainted from hunger and fatigue. As I sat by him I could see the taua in the far distance dragging their ill-gotten gain not far from the river we had passed on our mokis, and, as I looked at them, I thought of the day when louder thunder should roll, and man should render an account of his actions unto Him who made him.

26th. --Rose early on our way. At 8 a. m. we were on board of our boat, and at noon landed at Whakatiwai, our object being to prevent Te Wharepu and his party from returning to Maramarua until Kohinaki had recrossed the Thames. The chief heard of the act of Kohinaki, and the loss of his war canoe, with an assumed indifference, as though nothing had occurred. He said neither good nor bad, but made preparations to return. Not so the chief who had entertained him. He started up, and in a violent speech declared he would bring Kohinaki to combat for what he had done. Then he rushed to his magazine and shortly returned with 800 rounds of ball cartridge for Te Wharepu 5 and his friends, to protect themselves with in the event of their meeting Kohinaki. After a short stay we set sail for the Puriri, thankful to God for the success of our enterprise.

29th. --With Mr. Fairburn visited Horita, the chief of this part of the Thames. He had seen the great navigator, Captain Cook, and was always a friend of Europeans. Horita is about six feet three inches high, good-natured, and truly noble in appearance. The object of our visit was to read to him a letter from Te Waharoa. This letter of Te Waharoa's expresses goodwill and peaceable intentions towards Horita and his tribes. The old man is sick and tapu, and his people for some time prevented our seeing him, but, as the letter is of importance, they at last yielded, and conducted us through high brushwood to the solitary shelter of a rough booth, formed of branches of trees, where the old chief was lying in a sort of quarantine, not even allowed to feed himself, and few permitted to approach him. Te Horita looked haggard and worn, and was slowly recovering from a severe illness. He expressed his pleasure at seeing us, and when the letter had been read, he and two other chiefs, who were present, were pleased and satisfied with the proposed peace. They asked Mr. Fairburn to answer it on the spot. While he was engaged in this I went into

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the pa and visited our friend Kohinaki. 6 He was perfectly friendly, without the least reserve, and said he had not forgotten his promise to write to Te Waharoa, and that he was going to the Puriri for that purpose.

NOTE. --In 1860, while pulling down the Waikato with a Taranaki native, I observed to him that some of the tribe we had just passed on the banks of the river were twenty-five years ago saved from immediate destruction through the interposition of two Europeans, but now seemed to have forgotten their benefactors, that I feared it was not the custom in this country to remember an obligation with gratitude. My companion pulled on in silence for some time and then said, "The Maori does not forget an obligation of that kind any more than the Pakeha does; the Europeans you speak of could not have been recognized or they would not have been allowed to pass without a welcome." Then in vindication of his countrymen he continued: "In former times, if a rangatira fell badly wounded in fight and was rescued from falling into the hands of his enemy by the valour of other and borne on their shoulders out of danger to his home, his first thought after recovery would be, 'What can I give to my friends--they saved me, I have no riches, but I have land. I will give them some land,' which accordingly he would do." --J. A. W.