CHAPTER II. THE ARRIVAL.
[Image of page 25]
CHAPTER II.
THE ARRIVAL.
FROM Sydney we took ship to New Zealand, in the the brig Patriot. Besides ourselves, were the Rev. N. Turner, Mrs. Turner, and their large family; also Mr. and Mrs. Monk, with their little boy. We had been told that we were bent on a hopeless task, in seeking to convert cannibal savages. "There was nothing for it," men said, "but to polish them off the face of the earth." But we had "counted the cost." We knew who had commanded the gospel to be preached to every creature. From Him we had our "marching orders;" and in obedience to His word, and in hope of His presence and blessing, we entered upon our work, and "in the name of the Lord set up our banners."
We made the N. W. coast of New Zealand, April 21st, 1836. It was off the Hokianga, S. lat. 35 deg. 32', and E. long. 173 deg. 27'. On the next day we tried, in vain, to cross the bar at the entrance of the harbour. The wind was from the shore, and we had to "back ship." We came near to the Heads again on the Saturday; but again the "wind was contrary." A small dark speck was seen to emerge from the river; - came towards us. Very soon we found it was the little schooner Tui (parson bird). One of our mission-
[Image of page 26]
aries was on board her. He was on his way to the south, to visit two stations that had lately been planted at Kawhia and Waingaroa. He stayed with us till we were safe at anchor, and his local knowledge was of no little use. At night, the wind freshened into a gale, so that we were driven far out to sea.
It was not till Wednesday, the 27th, that we could take the bar. On the afternoon of that day, the pilot (Martin) succeeded in reaching us in his whale-boat. Before dark, we had passed between the bold heads of the noble river--mountains of rolling sand on either side of us. And now we felt how true are the Psalmist's words: "Then are they glad because they be quiet: so He bringeth them into their desired haven;" and, accordingly, we "praised the Lord for His goodness, for His wonderful works to the children of men."
Next morning, we were early on deck to see the land. It was a clear, balmy, autumnal day. Nothing can exceed the loveliness of April weather, in that exhilirating climate. Lady Barker, in one of her books, naively but truly says: "In no other country does Nature know how to make a fine day, as she does in New Zealand." Less sunny than Australia, more stimulating than England, it is a climate of rare excellence. At all events, our first day was a bright one. Native villages were perched on the hill-sides. Stalwart Maories came alongside, in their canoes. They were clothed in rough mats, or in dirty blankets. Fish, potatoes, etc., were brought on board, in exchange for pipes, tobacco, and the like.
As we glided up the river with the flood-tide, they were, here and there, eyeing us from their low huts,
[Image of page 27]
squatting on their haunches. Covered with the Ngeri (a coarse flax mat), they looked like so many thatched bee-hives. A gentle breeze favoured our progress, so that before dusk we cast anchor abreast of the Mission Station, twenty-three miles from the Heads.
The river is winding in its course. Fed by many tributary streams, it shows a fine sheet of water at full tide. Those streams flow through rich alluvial valleys, in which the bulk of the natives live, in the midst of their cultivations. The mid-channel is deep enough for the largest ships, but flat shoals of mud are laid bare when the tide ebbs. On those shoals the women gather cockles (pipi), and at night the men, with torches in their hands, spear the patiti (a flat fish like the plaice). Wild fowl skim the surface of the water, or dive beneath it. The main river flows between lofty and woody hills. Bold mountain ranges, clothed with evergreen forests of varied hues, line the banks on both sides. These are broken, at many points, by the openings which lead to the well-watered and fertile dales. Through the vista, as far as the eye can reach, mountain seems piled upon mountain, in wild confusion, and all are crowned, to their summits, with large trees.
At nearly every bend, a rude and lonely hut was standing. This was made of slabs, and thatched with grass. A boat, or a canoe, floated in front of it, or was lying on the beach. It was the home of some white man, living in a semi-barbarous style, with a Maori woman, and surrounded by their half-caste progeny. He was perhaps an escaped convict, or a runaway sailor. About two hundred of these classes were living on the shores of the river. They worked
[Image of page 28]
as axe-men, sawyers, etc, for the few traders who were located on their respective establishments. Too generally, the poor fellows were the slaves of drunkenness: the arrival of a ship was usually their time for unbridled indulgence in this vice.
Happily for the Maories, they had not yet acquired a taste for ardent spirits. There were from three to four thousand of them, scattered over the hills and dales, in this district. Among them were many chiefs of great fame. Intercommunication was confined to boat or canoe;--there were no roads. Three or four timber depots had been formed on the river. The largest of these was at Te Horeke, about three miles beyond the Mission Station. This belonged to the late Lieutenant M'Donnell, R.N. He owned a large tract of broken country, by virtue of purchase; he had built two vessels in his yard, and he lived in a good house, with gardens around it of some pretensions. Mounted on an elevation, he had several pieces of cannon, and the booming of their report would sometimes echo along the surrounding hills.
Rafts of long spars, or of sawn timber, were floated down to the ships--the former to be taken to England, the latter to New South Wales, or to "the colony," as it was then called. There was likewise some trading in flax and potatoes. Such was the place to which we had come. Landing from the boats, we were carried over the mud-fiat to the pebbly beach,--the gentlemen on the backs, and the ladies and children in the arms, of strong natives. They were chattering and good-tempered. We were thankful to be once more on terra firma, and on a spot which shall be described in the next chapter.
