diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:46:43 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:46:43 -0700 |
| commit | 04ae27f74bcf342d477114d3dc583c933753d409 (patch) | |
| tree | 42fb9d0eb7e89557241e8b8bd1511c0f6c0708d2 /29070.txt | |
Diffstat (limited to '29070.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 29070.txt | 8149 |
1 files changed, 8149 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/29070.txt b/29070.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8c886f4 --- /dev/null +++ b/29070.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8149 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Brighter Britain! (Volume 1 of 2), by William Delisle Hay + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Brighter Britain! (Volume 1 of 2) + or Settler and Maori in Northern New Zealand + +Author: William Delisle Hay + +Release Date: June 9, 2009 [EBook #29070] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BRIGHTER BRITAIN! (VOLUME 1 OF 2) *** + + + + +Produced by Heiko Evermann and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + + + + + + BRIGHTER BRITAIN + + OR + + SETTLER AND MAORI + + IN + + _NORTHERN NEW ZEALAND._ + + BY + + WILLIAM DELISLE HAY, + + AUTHOR OF "THREE HUNDRED YEARS HENCE," "THE DOOM OF THE GREAT CITY," + ETC. + + "Queen of the seas, enlarge thyself! + Send thou thy swarms abroad! + For in the years to come,-- + Where'er thy progeny, + Thy language and thy spirit shall be found,-- + If-- + --in that Austral world long sought, + The many-isled Pacific,-- + When islands shall have grown, and cities risen + In cocoa-groves embower'd; + Where'er thy language lives. + By whatsoever name the land be call'd, + That land is English Still." + + SOUTHEY. + + IN TWO VOLUMES.--VOL. I. + + LONDON: + + RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON, + + NEW BURLINGTON STREET. + + 1882. + + (_All rights reserved._) + + PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BECCELES. + + + + +PREFACE. + + +This book is descriptive of things as they are in a part of New Zealand, +together with some reference to past history. It does not attempt to +handle the colony as a whole, but refers to scenes within the northern +half of the North Island only. This part of the country, the natural +home of the kauri pine, is what I here intend to specify under the title +of Northern New Zealand. + +I am not an emigration-tout, a land-salesman, or a tourist. When I went +to New Zealand I went there as an emigrant. Not until a few days before +I left its shores had I any other idea but that the rest of my life was +destined to be that of a colonist, and that New Zealand was my fixed and +permanent home. I have, therefore, written from the point of view of a +settler. Circumstances, which have nothing to do with this chronicle, +caused me to lay down axe and spade, and eventually to become a +spoiler of paper instead of a bushman. The materials of this work, +gathered together in the previous condition of life, are now put in +print in the other. + +I trust no one of my colonial friends will feel offended, should he +think that he discovers a caricature of himself in these pages. I have +used disguises to veil real identities, occasionally taking liberties as +regards time, situation, and personality. I think that no one but +themselves could recognize my characters. + +The substance of one or two chapters of this book has, in part, been +already placed before the public in papers that I contributed to _The +Field_ last year, and is used again here by kind permission of the +proprietor of that newspaper. Also, I have made the Kaipara the scene of +several tales and sketches, which have appeared in sundry periodicals. + +If, in writing this book, I had any object beyond that of amusing the +reader, it has been to give accurate information to young Englishmen +belonging to the middle-classes. From this section of home society a +considerable number of emigrants go out who had much better stop at +home. On the other hand, there are many who do not stir, and who would +be much better off in a colony. Perhaps, from the record I am now able +to put before them, some of these young gentlemen will be more able to +decide whether they are personally adapted to become colonists in +Northern New Zealand or not. If one unsuitable emigrant is hereby +deterred from leaving home, and if one capable colonist is added to the +population of "Brighter Britain," my labour will not have been +altogether useless. + +For the rest, I throw myself again upon the indulgence of critics, and +on that of a public which has already abundantly favoured the efforts I +have made to please and serve it. + + THE AUTHOR. + + LONDON, + _June 25th, 1882._ + + + + +CONTENTS OF VOL. I. + + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I. A "NEW-CHUM'S" INTRODUCTION 1 + + II. AUCKLAND 21 + + III. GOING UP COUNTRY 63 + + IV. IN THE KAIPARA 93 + + V. OUR SHANTY 115 + + VI. OUR HOME-LIFE 143 + + VII. OUR PIONEER FARM. I. 174 + + VIII. OUR PIONEER FARM. II. 196 + + IX. OUR SHOW-PLACE 227 + + X. OUR NATIVE NEIGHBOURS 253 + + XI. OUR SETTLER FRIENDS 285 + + XII. A PIG-HUNT 319 + + + + +BRIGHTER BRITAIN! + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +A "NEW-CHUM'S" INTRODUCTION. + + +Three months on board ship seems a long while to look forward to, yet it +is but a short time to look back upon. Emigrants, being for the most +part drawn from among dry-land-living populations, are apt to be daunted +by the idea of a long voyage. People would be more ready, perhaps, to +contemplate becoming colonists, were it not for that dreaded crossing of +the sea which must necessarily be their first step. Their terrors may be +natural enough, but they are more fanciful than real; and once overcome, +the emigrant smiles at his former self. + +After the first week or two at sea, the most inveterate "land-lubber" +begins to feel at home; in another week or two he has become quite +nautical, and imagines himself to have been a sailor half his life; +while, when the voyage is over and the time come to go ashore, there are +few who leave their floating home without regret. + +As things are managed nowadays, there exists no reason for apprehension +of the voyage on the part of would-be colonists. Emigrants who are taken +out "free"--that is, at the expense of the colonial government--as well +as those who pay their own passage, are cared for in most liberal and +considerate style. The rivalry between the various colonies of Australia +has had this effect among others--that the voyage is made as safe, +smooth, and inviting to emigrants as is possible. They are berthed with +an ever-increasing attention to their care and comfort, while they are +absolutely pampered and fattened with abundance and variety of the best +food. + +No one expects to commence life in a new country without undergoing some +amount of hardship and difficulty, and when the emigrant gets on shore, +and begins to experience the various little annoyances that a "new-chum" +must necessarily undergo, he realizes most thoroughly the pleasures and +comforts he has left behind him on board ship; and, very frequently, +vainly endeavours to suppress the wish that he was back on board "the +old hooker" making the voyage out over again. + +As to _danger_, nothing amuses an old salt more than the bare idea of +the "perils of the sea." To him, a railway journey, short or long, +appears an infinitely more terrible and risky undertaking than a voyage +half round the globe; and he will enumerate the various dangers to which +a landsman is exposed as vastly in excess of those which may happen to +the mariner. + +Life on board an emigrant-ship would, it might be thought, be somewhat +dull and monotonous. As a matter of fact, it is scarcely ever found to +be so. First of all, the little community of two or three hundred +souls--men, women, and children--contrives to find sufficient fund for +amusement in itself, in all the varieties of social intercourse. + +The progress of each day is marked by some fresh events that, +insignificant as they may seem when regarded from a distance, do yet +bear the strongest interest to all on board. A glimpse at some distant +land, the signalling or speaking of other vessels, the appearance of +strange birds and fish, the passage into different climates, the +excitement of a storm, or the opportunity which a calm gives for general +junketing; all such incidents are looked upon as a real gain by the +voyagers, while there is always something stirring on board to divert +and enliven them. + +All kinds of games are resorted to, many more, in fact, than landsmen +have any idea of; a vast amount of reading is done; there are sure to be +one or two on board who know how to spin a yarn with due effect; some +are musical, and others can sing. Concerts, lectures, theatricals, and +dances are got up; while, as there is generally a due admixture of the +sexes, not a little flirting and downright courting is carried on; and, +lastly, if there is any quarrelling and bickering, the differences of +those who engage in it afford much amusement to the rest. + +Altogether, the modern emigrant's existence on board ship is a calm, +easy, indolent, well-fed, and cheerful interlude of repose, amid the +storms and worries of the great battle of life. If existence has been to +him hitherto rather hard and thorny than otherwise, he finds the voyage +out a pleasant interval of rest and refreshment; and, in any case, it +recruits and prepares him to better commence the new life in the colony, +with good spirits and high hopes, with invigorated strength, and renewed +health in both mind and body. + +Although it might be thought that social equality would necessarily +prevail on board ship, such is by no means the case. Of course there are +great differences in the social tone of various ships, but, as a rule, +"aft" seldom condescends to mix much with "forrard." Yet there are +generally many interchanges of courtesy, as between upper, middle, and +lower classes; and different messes will sometimes banquet one another. +The "cuddy" will, perhaps, get up amateur theatricals or charades, to +which spectacle the whole vessel will be invited; while the "steerage" +will return the compliment with a concert, more or less brilliant in +performance. + +Thus, a pleasant interchange of civilities goes on aboard most ships, +and serves to help make the time pass away. Differences of rank and +station are supposed to be pretty well levelled down in the colonies. +Most of the time-worn prejudices of the old country, it is true, melt +away before the revivifying breath of colonial life, yet sometimes "Mrs. +Grundy's" awful features will show themselves, hiding the old foolish +face under a new and somewhat strange aspect. + +It would be interesting to note how many of the most prominent and +influential citizens of a colony came there originally in the humblest +possible way; and how many of the dregs of colonial society--the +occupiers of the lowest rung on the colonial ladder--reached their new +home with all the pomp and circumstance of quarter-deck sublimity, and +all the humbug and pretension of real or fancied aristocracy. Is the +result we see--for these contrasts are to be found plentifully in all +the colonies at the Antipodes--what it ought to be, or not? That is the +question. + +In the colonies, and particularly in the younger and newer among them, a +man must perforce be the sole architect of his own fortunes. Industry +and energy, enterprise and perseverance pave the pathway to success, and +yield a real and lasting benefit to him who holds such endowments. A man +must prove what he _is_, not what he _was_; his antecedents go for but +little, and his "forbears" for nothing at all. In the Antipodean +colonies of Great Britain is realized, perhaps, the nearest approach to +true freedom; and, in a wide social sense, the closest approximation to +the ideal republic. + +However, we are still on board ship, and, after an easy and not too +eventful voyage of some three months, are looking eagerly out for the +first sight of the promised land. Bound to Auckland, New Zealand, our +vessel is one of the largest that has yet sailed from Gravesend to that +port; and she carries some three hundred emigrants and passengers on +board. We have grown so accustomed to our good ship, and to our life on +board of her, that we have got a strange feeling that this voyaging will +never end; nor does the idea altogether arouse our discontent. + +We have had one or two births, and, alas! one poor child has been taken +from our little company. There have, of course, been no weddings on +board, but the prevailing opinion is that several have been arranged to +take place as soon as we get on shore. And the time is very near now. + +At last, late one afternoon, as the ship is bowling steadily along with +a ten-knot breeze on the port quarter, the deck is hailed from aloft, +and the cheery, long-expected, and long-wished-for cry of "land ho!" is +taken up by a hundred voices, and rings out across the sea. But there is +nothing to be seen for all that; and though more than three hundred +pairs of eyes keep anxious ward and watch, darkness falls before an +almost imperceptible cloud upon the far horizon is pronounced +oracularly by the mate to be Cape Maria Van Diemen, New Zealand's +north-western-most promontory. + +One may easily imagine that it is difficult to "turn in" on a night when +such a fresh excitement fills every mind, but, I suppose, most of us do +contrive to get to sleep eventually. With the first break of dawn in the +morning there is a stir and commotion all through the ship. Rules are +forgotten, and etiquette broken through, as men, women, and children +rush hastily on deck to take their first look at our future home. + +It is a beautiful summer morning. There is only a slight ripple on the +surface of the water, and not a cloud in the blue sky overhead. The +gentle breeze that just keeps us in motion blows off the land, bearing +with it a subtle perfume of trees and flowers and herbage; how +unspeakably grateful to our nostrils none can tell so well as we, who +inhale it with ardour after so many weeks at sea. + +Yonder, a mile or two to starboard, and seeming within a stone's throw, +is the land we have come so far to seek. A wall of rock, the northern +cliff of New Zealand rises abrupt and imposing from the sea, broken here +and there into groups of pillared, pinnacled islets, nobly irregular in +outline, piled and scarred, indented and projected, uplifted and +magnificent. On the summit of the cliffs, on ledges and terraces, down +at the bottom of the rocks, filling every little bay, and sweeping down +the gullies and ravines, is everywhere abundant the wild foliage of the +evergreen forest. Glorifying the rich and splendid scene, diversifying +with numberless effects of light and shadow the whole panorama, shining +upon the glowing sea, touching the topmost crags with sparkling +grandeur, and bathing in beauty the thousand-tinted green of the forest, +is the sun, which, on the eastern horizon, is rising clear and bright +and steady. And so we gaze rapturously on the wide and beautiful +picture--a picture the remembrance of which will remain with us long: +our first sight of the new land of hope and promise. + +Varied are the emotions that take possession of the individuals of our +company; but I think there are some among us, more thoughtful or +sentimental, perhaps, who, unconsciously to themselves, draw a kind of +inspiration from the noble scene. To such there seems, in those majestic +cliffs, sea-swept and forest-crowned, first seen as lighted by the +rising sun, a nameless sermon preached, a wordless lesson taught, an +everlasting poem sung. And our minds and spirits are calmed, refreshed, +and invigorated; while in some dim way we grasp ideas that the silent +scene irresistibly conveys to us. Rising within us, as we gaze, comes +with fresh new force the knowledge of the qualities that should be ours: +the high-hoping courage, the unshrinking energy, the dauntless +resolution, and the unfailing industry that must animate the colonist, +and be the best endowments of an inceptive nation! + +Later in the day we round the North Cape, and go sailing on down the +coast, with light and rather baffling winds that eventually bring us to +port on the following evening. + +Among our passengers are several old colonists, who are returning from a +visit "home." In the colonies Great Britain is always spoken of as +"home," even by colonial-born people. Talk about the raptures at +returning to "my own, my native land!" that is nothing to the transports +of joy that now infect our colonists. They laugh, they sing, they dance +about the decks, they chatter "sixteen to the dozen," and display every +eccentricity of unbounded delight and satisfaction. + +Probably a good deal of this is put on for the edification of us new +chums, but there is no question that most of it is an expression of real +feeling. All through the voyage these good people have been in great +force, relating numberless yarns of their past experiences, more or less +truthful in detail. But now their self-importance is overwhelming and +superior to all considerations. Every headland, bay, or island that we +pass is expatiated upon, and its especial story told, in which, I note, +the narrator generally seems to have been the most prominent figure +himself. No one is allowed to remain below, even for meals, scarcely for +sleeping; he or she must be up on deck to hear strange-sounding names +applied to every place we sight. + +Cape Kara-Kara is a name to us and nothing more. Whangaroa Heads, that +guard the harbour of that name, with its settlements and saw-mills, is +but little better, though some few, who have been industriously reading +up, remember Whangaroa as the scene of the ghastly massacre of the crew +of the _Boyd_, half a century ago. Capes Wiwiki and Brett we have no +previous acquaintance with, though we have heard of the Bay of Islands, +over whose wide entrance they are the twin sentinels. And then in slow +succession we sight the Poor Knights Islands, Bream Head, the Hen and +Chickens, the Barrier Islands--Great and Little, Cape Colville, Rodney +Point, and the Kawau, Sir George Grey's island home. + +And now, on the afternoon of the second day, we are running closer and +closer to the shore; islands and islets are becoming more numerous, and +the seas are getting narrower. Right ahead a conical mountain top is +perceived, Tiri-Tiri is close to, and it is high time the pilot came +aboard. That mountain top is Rangitoto, an extinct volcanic cone upon a +small island that protects the entrance to Auckland Harbour. Presently +we shall see the similar elevations of Mount Eden and Mount Hobson, that +look down on Auckland from the mainland. + +Of course, we are all on the _qui vive_ of expectation, looking out for +the first signs of life. Hitherto we have seen nothing to rob us of the +notion that we are a veritable cargo of Columbuses, coming to colonize +some new and virgin land, until now utterly unknown to the rest of the +world. The shores we have passed along have presented to us every +possible variety of savage wilderness, rocks and bush and scrub and +fern, but no appearance of settlement at all, not even any signs of +aboriginal life have we descried. + +There is a growing idea getting the better of our common sense--an +impression that there has been some sort of mistake somewhere or other. +For, how can it be possible that we are just outside the harbour of a +considerable city, with the shores of mainland and island as far as we +can see, just as wild as Nature made them, wilder than anything most of +us have ever seen before. The utmost recesses of Scotland, or Ireland, +or Wales would look quite tame and domesticated contrasted with these +rugged solitudes. Not a house nor a hut anywhere, not a trace of the +presence of man, not even--so it chanced--another sail upon the sea! + +It is close upon sunset, the foresail is backed, the pilot's signal is +flying, and the foghorn sounding, and soon we shall see if there is any +life or not in this weird new land. Presently, comes a shout of "Ship +ahoy! ahoy!" apparently from the sea, and a little boat emerges from the +shadow of the shore and makes its way alongside. + +Of course every one rushes to the side to see the pilot come aboard. It +being more than three months since we saw a strange face, we are +naturally consumed with a burning curiosity. It is rather disappointing +though, to have come half round the world only to be met by men like +these. The pilot might be own brother to his fellow-craftsman who took +us down the Channel, and his crew are just the same kind of brawny, +bearded, amphibious-looking men that are to be seen any day in an +English seaport. We had nourished an insane kind of hope that we should +have been boarded by a canoe full of Maoris, in all the savage splendour +of tattooing and paint and feathers; but here, instead of all that +romantic fancy, are three or four ordinary "long-shore" boatmen, with a +pilot who steps on board in the most matter-of-fact manner possible. + +Well, we must make the best we can out of the circumstances; so, when +the pilot has come out of the captain's cabin, where he has shown his +certificate and discussed his "nobbler," when he has formally taken +charge of the ship, and we are once more moving through the water, we +begin to pester him with the question, "What's the news?" + +Now, as we have been between three and four months at sea, isolated from +the rest of the world, we are naturally all agog to hear what has +happened in our absence. New Zealand's news of the old world is at least +a month old, but then that is considerably in advance of our dates. The +pilot has, therefore, enough to do in answering all the questions that +are levelled at him, and as he is probably pretty well accustomed to +similar experiences, he is, I fear, in the habit of allowing his fancy +to supply any gaps in his actual knowledge of the progress of events; +hence we glean many scraps of information that on further inquiry turn +out to be more or less imaginative. + +And now that we are entering the harbour of Auckland, it is +unfortunately getting too dark to see much. There is not a long gloaming +in northern New Zealand--once the sun has dropped below the horizon +darkness succeeds very rapidly; so, though we get an indistinct glimpse +at some houses on the shore as we sail along, it is quite dark as we +round the North Shore and come into Auckland harbour. + +There goes the anchor at last, with a plunge and a rattle! Now the good +ship is swinging in the current of the Waitemata, and the voyage, that +at its commencement seemed so long and that now appears to have been so +short, is fairly terminated. Before us, extending to right and left, and +up and down, are thousands of lights glittering and twinkling over the +shadowy outlines of the city; while into our ears is borne the welcome +hum and stir of city life. There is no going ashore until next +morning--until the health officer and the customs shall have boarded and +inspected us. So that night is devoted to the bustle and confusion of +packing up; and various spoony couples moon about the decks, renewing +promises and vows in expectation of their parting on the morrow. + +When morning comes we make our bow to Auckland. There it lies, this +Antipodean city, looking so white and clean and fair in the morning +sunshine, stretching away to right and left, rising in streets and +terraces from the shore, cresting the heights with steeples and +villa-roofs, and filling up the valleys below. In the far background is +the heavy brow of Mount Eden, whose extinct crater we shall explore +by-and-by, and whence we shall obtain a splendid view of the entire +city, its suburbs, and the surrounding country. + +From our point of view out in the harbour the city presents a scattered +and uneven appearance, that adds to its generally picturesque aspect. As +a central feature are the long lines of wharves and quays with their +clustering shipping; just beyond these is evidently the densest part of +the city. Huge and imposing stone buildings stand thickly here, showing +that it is the centre of the business part of Auckland. To right and +left the ground rises abruptly and steeply, and the streets become +irregular in outline. Nor is the shore a straight and continuous line; +these heights on either hand are promontories jutting out into the +stream, and hiding deep bays behind them, round which, straggling and +irregular, sweeps the city. + +The further our eyes travel from the centre of the picture, the more do +we lose sight of any trace of uniformity in building. Quite close to the +busy parts, so it seems to us, houses stand in their own wide gardens; +the streets and roads are lost amid the embowering foliage of trees and +shrubs. The house-structures are built on every conceivable plan, up and +down the wooded shores; every builder has evidently been his own +architect to a great extent, and there is no lack of elbow-room +hereaway. + +What surprise us most are the evidences of taste and cultivation and +general prosperity everywhere in view. Our previous glimpses at the +shore of our new country had not prepared us for anything like this. It +is decidedly encouraging to new-comers, who are disturbed somewhat by +the prospect of doing battle with the wilderness, to find a sort of +Anglo-Saxon Naples here in the Southern Sea. + +We had an idea that our arrival would have been quite an event in this +little place. Nothing of the sort; Aucklanders are too well used to the +arrival of emigrant ships. One or two enter the harbour every month, +besides other craft; and then the Pacific Mail steamers, large and +splendidly equipped vessels, call here twice a month on their way to and +fro between Sydney and San Francisco. + +There are one or two vessels like ours lying out in the stream at the +present time, others are lying alongside the principal wharf, or its +cross-tees, amid a forest of spars belonging to small coasting craft. +Plenty of shore boats have come off to us on one errand or another; but +it is evident that our arrival has not created that impression upon the +city which we had had a notion that it would have done. + +The morning papers will notice our advent, with a brief account of the +voyage, and will give exceedingly inaccurate lists of our passengers. +Only those people who expect friends or cargo by us will take any +special interest in us; the evening promenaders on the wharf will glance +at our ship with a brief passing interest; and the current of Auckland +life will flow on unchanged, regardless of the fact that some three +hundred more souls have been absorbed into its population. + +Breakfast this morning is partaken of in the midst of a hurry-skurry of +excitement, but, for all that, it is an imposing meal, and comprises all +sorts of luxuries to which we have long been strangers. Beefsteaks, +milk, eggs, fruit, and vegetables, fresh fish just caught over the side, +and other fondly-loved delicacies are on the bill of fare. By-and-by, +all formalities having been gone through, comes the parting with +shipmates and the confusion of landing. + +It is not without a strong feeling of astonishment that we step out of +the boat that has brought us off, and enter the city. We were totally +unprepared for the scene before us. From the accounts we had read and +received, we had pictured Auckland to our minds as little better than a +collection of log-huts, with here and there, perhaps, a slightly more +comfortable frame-house. And here is the reality. A city that would put +to shame many an old English town. A main street--Queen Street--that +might even compare favourably with many a leading London thoroughfare in +all its details. Fine handsome edifices of stone, with elaborate +architecture and finish; large plate-glass shop-windows, filled with a +display of wares; gas-lamps, pillar letter-boxes, pavements, awnings, +carts, carriages, and cabs; all the necessities, luxuries, and +appurtenances of city life, civilized and complete. + +Truly, all this is a wonderful surprise to us. Our preconceived ideas, +gathered from various books dating only a few years back, had led our +fancies completely astray. Learning from these sources that, not much +more than thirty years ago--in 1840,--the first ship-load of British +emigrants landed in New Zealand; that since then the colony had +struggled for bare life against many and great difficulties; that it had +had to wage several desperate wars with the aborigines; had had its +financial and legislative troubles; and was still so very very young, we +were naturally prepared to find Auckland a rude, rough, and inchoate +settlement, pitched down in the midst of a wilderness as savage and +uncouth as those shores we passed along yesterday. + +We know that a very few years ago, Auckland really was but what we had +fancied it still would be, and so we comprehend now how little the +people at home actually realize of the conditions of life at their +Antipodes. Moreover, as we pass along the streets of this British city, +set down here on the shaggy shores of Britain's under-world, in the very +heart of recent Maori-dom, so remote and far removed from the tracks of +ancient civilization, we look around us and are filled with wonder and a +feeling akin to awe. This is what colonization means; this is the work +of colonists; this is the evidence of energy that may well seem titanic, +of industry that appears herculean; this is Progress! The thought +thrills us through and through. We, too, have made our entry into the +new world; we, too, have crossed the threshold of colonial life; and +thus to-day, at the outset of our new life, our minds have opened to +receive the first true lesson of the colonist. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +AUCKLAND. + + +Passing up Queen Street, after landing on the wharf, a party of us +notice--or fancy we notice--a rather singular feature in the Aucklanders +we meet. The men are grave and serious in deportment, and nearly all are +profusely bearded; but one of us draws attention to the fact that all +have strangely aquiline noses. Hebrews they are not--we know, they are +of the same nationality as ourselves--so we seek explanation from a +whimsical fellow-voyager, himself an old Aucklander. + +"Ah!" says he, "that's a peculiarity of the climate. You'll have long +noses, too, after a year or so. There's an Auckland proverb, that a +new-chum never does any good until his nose has grown. You've got to +learn the truth of that pretty soon." + +Following up these remarks, he proceeded to add-- + +"It's like the proverbial cutting of the wisdom-teeth. After inhaling +this magnificent air of ours for a year or two, your nose will grow +bigger to receive it; and about the same time you will have spent the +money you brought with you, gone in for hard work, learnt common-sense, +and become 'colonized.'" + +The reader will understand that a new-chum is, throughout the colonies, +regarded as food for mirth. He is treated with good-humoured contempt +and kindly patronage. He is looked upon as a legitimate butt, and a sort +of grown-up and incapable infant. His doings are watched with interest, +to see what new eccentricities he will develop; and shouts of laughter +are raised at every fresh tale of some new-chum's inexperienced attempts +and failures. Half the stories that circulate in conversation have a +new-chum as the comic man of the piece; and if any unheard of +undertaking is noised about, "Oh, he's a new-chum!" is considered +sufficient explanation. + +However, the new-chum is not supposed to be altogether a fool, since he +will sooner or later develop into the full-blown colonist, and since +sometimes it happens that one of his order will show colonists "a thing +or two." He is one of the recognized characters of colonial society, and +as he affords much material that seems infinitely ludicrous to the older +colonist, so his faults and failings meet with lenient condonation. + +Even the law seems to feel that the new-chum is scarcely a responsible +being. At the time I write of, drunkenness was severely legislated +against in New Zealand. A man who was merely drunk, without being +actually incapable or riotous, was liable, if any constable saw fit, to +be haled before the magistrate and fined one pound; and, on a subsequent +conviction, might be sent to the Stockade (prison), without the option +of a fine at all. The law stood something like that, and was impartially +administered by the Auckland Dogberry. However, if an individual were +pulled up, charged with even the most excessive tipsiness, including +riot, assault, incapability, or what not, and could show that he was a +new-chum, the sacred folly attributed to that state of being was held +sufficient to bear him blameless, and he was always discharged on his +promise not to do it again. I do not know whether this was intended as a +sort of indulgence to newly-arrived voyagers, or whether, in the eye of +the law, a new-chum was held to be an irresponsible being, who had not +yet arrived at the moral manhood of a New Zealander. Certain it is, it +was fact, and was largely taken advantage of, too. + +In order to bear out one of the received theories regarding new-chums, +namely, their utter want of frugality, we, some half-a-dozen young +"gentlemen," who have come out in the cabin, go to put up at one of the +leading hotels of the city. We have looked in at some of the minor +hotels and houses of accommodation, but are daunted by the rough, rude, +navvy-like men, who appear to chiefly frequent them; and we do not care +to go to any of the boarding-houses, where parsons, missionaries, and +people of that class mostly abound, and tincture the very air with a +savour of godliness and respectability that is, alas! repugnant to our +scapegrace youth. + +We are young fellows with slender purses but boundless hopes, an immense +belief in ourselves and our golden prospects; but with the vaguest +possible idea of what manual labour, roughing it, and colonial work +really mean. Therefore, we have decided that there is no reason to +plunge at once into the middle of things, that we will look about a bit, +let ourselves down gently, and taste a little comfort before proceeding +further. + +Our hotel is a solid, comfortable-looking edifice of stone, standing on +a wide street that traverses a high ridge, and commanding a fine view of +the harbour. It is well furnished throughout in English fashion, +resembling any first-class family and commercial hotel of the old +country. There is a long bar or saloon occupying the ground floor, with +a parlour behind it; there are also a spacious dining-room and +business-room. Upstairs there is a billiard-room, smoking-room, ladies' +drawing-room, and bedrooms capable of accommodating thirty or forty +guests. Behind the house is a large courtyard, round which are ranged +the bath-rooms, kitchens, offices, and stables; while further back is +the garden, principally used for strictly utilitarian purposes. + +According to colonial custom there is little or no privacy, no private +sitting-rooms, and if a visitor have a bedroom to himself, it is not +quite such a sanctum as it would be in Britain. People stopping in the +house are free to permeate it from kitchen to attic, if so minded. + +There are three common meals--breakfast, luncheon-dinner, and +dinner-supper--and any one who is not present at them, or who is hungry +between times, will have to go without in the interval, and wait till +the next regular meal-time comes round, unless he dare to invade the +kitchen and curry favour with the cook, or goes down to some restaurant +in the city. + +Generally speaking, the table is furnished in a style most creditable as +to both quantity and quality of the viands. There may not be such a show +of plate and glass and ornament as there would be at a London hotel of +similar status, but there is a plenteous profusion of varied eatables, +fairly cooked and served up, to which profusion the home establishment +is an utter stranger. Fish, fowl, butcher's meat, vegetables, breads and +cakes, eggs, cream, and fruit, appear in such abundance that, when every +one is nearly gorged, we wonder what can possibly be done with the +overplus, especially since we are told that this is a city without +paupers, as yet. + +Fresh from the crystallized decorum of English manners, we are +necessarily struck by the freedom of intercourse that prevails. Class +prejudices have certainly been imported here from Europe, and exist to a +small extent in Auckland society, but there is, withal, a nearer +approach to true liberty, equality, and fraternity, at any rate in the +manners and customs of colonists. The hotel servants show no symptoms of +servility, though in civility they are not lacking. Every one is +perfectly independent, and considers himself or herself on an equal +footing with every one else, no matter what differences may exist in +their present position--new-chums always excepted--while they ever bear +in mind that such differences are only temporary, and may disappear any +day in the chances and changes of life in a new country. + +Our landlord and his wife preside at the meals, and, whoever may or +might be present, comport themselves as a host and hostess entertaining +a friendly party. In common with every one else, they take a lively +interest in our intentions and prospects, and we are bewildered with +conflicting advice and suggestions, some real and some jocular. They +make us feel at home in the house very speedily, and cause us to forget +that we are paying lodgers. + +Not but what the bill will come up with due regularity, and will have to +be met as promptly. And the mention of it reminds me to state that the +tariff is eight shillings per day, inclusive of everything but liquors. +This would be moderate enough in all conscience, according to English +notions, but it is thought to be a luxurious price here. The minor +hotels and boarding-houses in Auckland charge from a pound to +thirty-five shillings per week. At present there is nothing higher than +the price we pay at our hotel. + +Having hinted at the social relations that obtain here, there will seem +to be nothing outrageous in the following slight incident that +illustrates them. One morning, soon after our arrival, I get down to +breakfast rather late, after most of the guests have dispersed. +Something seems to have creased our landlady's temper, for she greets me +with-- + +"Look here, young man! I can't have people walking in to breakfast at +all hours of the day. If you don't come down at the proper time, you'll +have to go without in future--mind that!" + +But at this juncture arrives the waiter, who is kind enough to favour me +with his friendship, bringing with him a dish he has been keeping hot, +and, as he slaps it down in front of me, he observes in a tone of mild +remonstrance-- + +"Leave the man alone. I'll look after him. Now just you walk into that, +my boy, and see if it won't suit your complaint!" + +This is quite colonial style. But fancy an old-country landlady +venturing to remonstrate with her boarder in such terms; and imagine the +pitiable horror of a precise and formal Englishman, who might find +himself so addressed by a waiter, and in the presence of the latter's +mistress, too! + +I am particular in styling Auckland a "city," and not a "town," for were +I to use the latter term I should expect to earn the undying hostility +of all true Aucklanders. It is a point they are excessively touchy upon, +and as the city and its suburbs contains a population of more than +twenty thousand--increasing annually at an almost alarming rate--it were +as well for me to be particular. We take a stroll or two about the city +in company with a colonial friend, who obligingly acts as our cicerone. + +The wharf is naturally the first point of interest to new-comers. It +stretches continuously out into the river from the lower end of Queen +Street, and is over a quarter of a mile in length. It is built of wood, +and has several side-piers or "tees," whereat ships discharge and take +in cargo. The scene is always a busy one; and in the evening the wharf +is a favourite promenade with citizens. + +Out in the river, lying at anchor, is the good ship that brought us +here, and not far from her are a couple of others, one of which will +shortly sail for England. Puffing its way between these vessels is a +little white cock-boat of a steamer, that seems tolerably well crowded +with men, whose white sun-helmets and yellow silk coats give quite an +Indian air to the scene. These persons are probably business men coming +over in the ferry-boat from North Shore, where we can see some of their +villas from the wharf. + +Lying alongside the wharf are one or two vessels of considerable +tonnage, loading or discharging cargo, while at their respective tees, +whereon are offices and goods-sheds, are several fine steamers of +moderate size. These ply in various directions, taking passengers +chiefly, but also goods. Some go and come between Auckland and +Grahamstown, or Coromandel, in the Hauraki Gulf; others go to Tauranga, +the Bay of Plenty, Napier, Wellington, and the South Island; one or two +go northward to Mahurangi, Whangarei, the Bay of Islands, Whangaroa, and +Mongonui. + +The splendid and sumptuously fitted-up Pacific liners that call here +once a month, on their way between "Frisco," Hawaii, Fiji, and Sydney, +are none of them in the harbour at present; but there, at the extreme +end of the wharf, lies _The Hero_, the Sydney packet, and a magnificent +steam-ship is she. All the schooners, cutters, and craft of small +tonnage that fill up the scene, and crowd alongside the wharf and its +tees, are coasting or Island traders. + +There is one from the Fijis with cotton, coffee, and fresh tropical +fruits; there is another from the Friendlies with copra and cocoa-nut +fibre, which she will shortly transfer to some ship loading for England; +and there is the _Magellan Cloud_, fresh from a successful whaling +cruise in Antarctic Seas. There is a vessel from Kororareka with coal +and manganese, or kauri-gum; there are others from Mahurangi with lime, +from Whangarei with fat cattle, from Tauranga with potatoes, from +Poverty Bay with wool, from the Wairoa with butter and cheese, from Port +Lyttelton with flour, or raw-hides for the Panmure tannery, from Dunedin +with grain or colonial ale, and so on and so on. + +Just off the wharf, and facing the river at either corner of Queen +Street, are two large and handsome hotels, while to right and left on +the river frontage are sundry important commercial edifices. Passing to +the left as we leave the wharf, we come to several extensive +timber-yards, and to a long jetty, used exclusively as a timber-wharf. +The immense piles of sawn timber lying here give to us new-chums some +notion of the vast timber-trade of Northern New Zealand, especially +since we learn that much which goes to the South Island and elsewhere is +shipped direct from Whangaroa, Hokianga, the Kaipara, and other ports in +the north. The road along the river front, here, is shortly brought up +abruptly at the base of a lofty bluff, whereon is a church and other +buildings, near the site of old Fort Britomart. + +Retracing our steps, we enter Queen Street, the main street of the city. +All the lower portion of it abutting on to the wharf was, we are told, +reclaimed from swamp and mud only a very few years ago. The street is a +fine one, leading straight away from the river, curving imperceptibly to +the right, and gradually ascending for about a mile, until it branches +off into other streets and roads. Down at the lower end of the street +most of the buildings are of brick and stone; and some of them are of +tolerably fine architecture. There are banks and warehouses and +merchants' stores of all kinds, interspersed with hotels and public +buildings. Higher up Queen Street, and in the cross-streets, stone and +brick edifices are less numerous, and wooden houses more plentiful. + +The broad, well-paved thoroughfare is crowded at certain times of the +day with carriages, cabs, buggies, omnibuses, equestrians, +express-carts, waggons, drays, and every species of vehicle. The +side-walks are thronged with passengers, who pass up and down under the +awnings that stretch from the houses across the wide pavement. Many of +the shop-windows would do no discredit to Oxford Street or the Strand, +either as respects their size or the goods displayed in them. + +Some distance up Queen Street, and turning a little out of it, is the +Market House, where a very fine show of fruit, vegetables, and other +eatables is frequently to be seen; and then there is the United Service +Hotel, at the corner of Wellesley Street, which is a structure that +Aucklanders point to with pride, as evidence of their progress in street +architecture. At night, when the gas is lit in the streets, the shops, +and the saloons, and one mingles with the crowd that throngs them, or +pours into the theatre, the Choral Hall, the Mechanics' Institute, the +Oddfellows' Hall, or other places of amusement, instruction, or +dissipation, it is almost possible sometimes to imagine oneself back in +the old country, in the streets of some English town. + +New-chums are able to notice some of the peculiarities of Auckland +street-life, wherein it most differs from an old-country town. These +arise principally from that absence of conventionality, which, certainly +in many external things, is the prerogative of colonists. There is a +mingling of people who seem on terms of perfect equality, and who yet +present the most extraordinary difference in appearance. The gentleman +and the roughest of roughs may happen to get together on the same piece +of work, and when their temporary chum-ship ends the one cannot entirely +cut the other, such being a course quite inadmissible with colonial +views of life. Only one man _may_ be scouted by any one, and that is the +loafer. + +Of course there are good people here who would fain introduce all the +class barriers that exist in the old country; but they cannot do more +than form little cliques and coteries, which are constantly giving way +and being broken down under the amalgamating process of colonization. +Where these offer most resistance to the levelling influence is where +they are cemented by religious denominational spite, which is, +unhappily, very prevalent in Auckland. + +This general fusion of all sorts of people together produces a very +amiable and friendly state of things. Etiquette is resolved into simple +courtesy, not very refined, perhaps, but which is sufficient "between +man and man," as Micawber would say. Prejudice must not be entertained +against any man on account of his birth, connections, education, +poverty, or manner of work; he is "a man for a' that," and entitled to +the same consideration as the more fortunate individual who possesses +what he lacks. Only if he be a loafer, or dishonest, or otherwise +positively objectionable, will any man find himself under the ban of +colonial society. And this society is not a mere set of wealthy +exclusives banded together against the rest of the world; it comprehends +everybody. + +One sees in the streets abundant evidence of these conditions of social +relationship. In the first place, costume goes for little or nothing. +Men--I am coming to your sex presently, ladies!--men wear just what they +please at all times and in all places, and without remark from others. +One sees men apparelled in all sorts of ways; and it would be impossible +to guess at a man's condition from his coat, hereaway. + +In Queen Street once, I saw a well-dressed and thriving store-keeper +touch his hat to a ragged, disreputable-looking individual, who was +carrying a hod full of bricks, where some building operations were going +on. It was a sudden impulse of old habit, I suppose, which had wrung +that very uncolonial salute from the sometime valet to his former +master, in whose service he had originally come out. I knew of one case +where master and servant actually came to change places, and I may add, +to their mutual advantage eventually. + +A man would not be likely to receive an invitation to the governor's +ball unless he had some pretensions to gentility, or was locally +important. Yet, I suppose that the recipient of such an invite might +turn up at Government House in a grey jumper and moleskins, if he were +so minded, and would pass unquestioned. In such a case it would only be +surmised that Mr. So-and-so was "not doing very well at present." + +Women, as a rule, dress "to death;" and the more gorgeous the toilette +the more likely is it that the wearer is unmarried, and a worker of some +sort. The merest Irish slut can earn her ten shillings a week as a +domestic, besides being found in everything; and better-class girls get +proportionately more; so it is not surprising that they can clothe +themselves in fine raiment. But there is no rule to go by--the +expensively dressed woman may be either mistress or maid, and the plain +cotton gown may clothe either as well. Only one thing is certain, the +Auckland woman of any class will dress as well as she knows how, on her +own earnings or her husband's. + +We new-chums observe one or two peculiarities of this kind as we stroll +about the city, and they are explained to us by our colonial friend. +Some extremely dowdy females we see riding in a barouche are the wife +and daughters of a high official, who is stingy to his woman-kind, so +they say. Two youths we pass are in striking contrast, as they walk +along arm-in-arm. One is got up according to the fullest Auckland idea +of Bond Street foppery, while the other prefers to go about in very +"creeshy flannen;" yet the two sit at the same desk in one of the banks, +and earn the same salary; and neither they themselves, nor anyone else, +seems to notice any peculiarity in the costume of either. + +Then comes along a more remarkable pair still: a "lady" and a "man" +apparently, or so they might be described at home. She is dressed in the +latest fashion and with killing effect--muslin, silk, embroidery, +chains, bracelets, laces, ribbons, the newest thing in bonnets, and the +last in parasols--and has quite the air of a fine lady. He is a burly +rough, bearded to the eyes, the shapeless remnant of a coarse +wide-awake covering a head of hair that has seemingly been long unknown +to the barber; his blue flannel shirt, ragged jacket, breeches, and long +riding-boots, are all crusted deep with mud, while a stock-whip is +coiled round his shoulders. They walk amicably along together, +conversing, though there is something of an air of constraint between +them. Our colonial friend nods to the man as they pass; and we ask him +who the strangely assorted couple may be. + +"Oh! he's a well-to-do stock-farmer," is the reply, "and has just come +in with a herd of fat beasts." + +"And the lady?" we ask. + +"The lady! Ha! That's a new dairy-maid and house-servant my friend's +just engaged. Guess she'll have to leave her fine feathers in Auckland! +Precious little good they'd be to her at his place in the bush!" + +And now for a sample of the native race, but very sparingly represented +in the city at any time. A dignified and portly gentleman is rolling +along, with an air as though the place belonged to him. He is a Maori, +as we plainly see; moreover, he is a chief, and is at present a member +of the House of Representatives. There is no trace of the savage about +him, as he struts along in his patent leather boots, shining broadcloth, +snowy shirt-front, massive watch-guard, and glossy silk hat, unless it +be in the richly decorative tattoo that adorns his brown face, and over +which a gold double-eyeglass has a somewhat incongruous effect + +There is another Maori on the curbstone, looking a horrible +tatterdemalion as he stands there in the scantiest and wretchedest of +European rags, offering peaches and water-melons for sale. Him and his +proffered wares the chief waves off with aristocratic hauteur, until he +suddenly recollects that his humble countryman has a vote at the +elections; then he stops, enters into a brief conversation, examines the +kitful of fruit through his glasses with supercilious disdain, but +eventually purchases a chunk of melon, and goes on his way munching it. + +In the shops the same sense of equality is noticeable. Shopkeepers and +their assistants are not the cringing, obsequious slaves that we know so +well in England. There is none of that bowing and smirking, superfluous +"sir"-ing and "ma'am"-ing, and elaborate deference to customers that +prevails at home. Here we are all freemen and equals; and the Auckland +shopman meets his customer with a shake of the hand, and a pleasant +hail-fellow-well-met style of manner. Not but what all the tricks of +trade are fully understood at the Antipodes, and the Aucklander can +chaffer and haggle, and drive as hard a bargain as his fellow across +the seas; only his way of doing it is different, that is all. + +Auckland possesses a class whose members are akin to the street-arabs of +London and elsewhere, but differ from them in many respects. The +Auckland "larrikin" is a growing nuisance, but he is neither so numerous +nor so objectionable as yet as his fellow in Melbourne and Sydney. +Unlike the street-arab, he is either a school-boy, or earns his living +somehow, or he is a truant from work of either kind. He probably belongs +to some working family, whom he favours with his company only at such +times as pleases himself, for he is utterly unmanageable by his parents. +He has exuberant spirits and an inordinate love of mischief, which shows +itself in manifold ways. He has a sort of organization of his own, and +seems to revel in uncurbed liberty of action. Occasionally some wrathful +citizen executes summary justice upon him, in spite of the fear that +such an act may bring down the vengeance of the whole boyish gang; and +sometimes the youth finds himself in the police-court, charged with +"larrikinism," an offence that is sure to be severely punished. The +"larrikin" easily gets a job, and works by fits and starts when it suits +him, or when he wants money. He lives in the open air, sleeping +anywhere, and getting his food no one knows how. He is not altogether +bad--not so frequently thieving and breaking the law, as intent on +simple mischief and practical jokes of the coarsest and roughest +sort--still, he is a pest that Aucklanders inveigh heartily against, and +would gladly see extirpated by the strong arm of the law. + +We turn out of Queen Street into Shortland Crescent. At the corner is a +large and handsome block of buildings constructed of brick, and having +an imposing frontage on the Crescent. This contains the General +Post-office and the Custom House. Not far distant, on the opposite side +of Queen Street, is the New Zealand Insurance Company's establishment, +more generally known as "The Exchange." It is the finest building in the +city, excepting the Supreme Court, perhaps, and has a tower, and a clock +which is the Big Ben of Auckland. + +At the corner of Shortland Crescent and Queen Street, and just under the +front of the Post-office, is a kind of rendezvous that serves as a +_Petite Bourse_, or Cornhill, to those who go "on 'Change" in Auckland. +Here congregate little knots of eager-eyed men--stock-jobbers most of +them--waiting for news from the Thames gold field, perhaps, or for +telegrams from elsewhere. Ever and anon some report spreads among them, +there is an excited flutter, mysterious consultations and references to +note books, and scrip of the "Union Beach," the "Caledonian," or the +"Golden Crown," changes hands, and goes "up" or "down," as the case may +be, while fortunes--in a small way--are made or marred. + +Toiling on up the steep ascent of the Crescent, we come out on a broad +road that runs along the summit of the range, and close to an ugly +church, St. Matthew's, that crowns the bluff looking over the harbour. +From various points here there are good views of the city obtainable; +and our guide is able to expatiate on most of its beauties and +characteristics. Down below us is the splendid and extensive harbour, +land-locked, and capable of containing the whole British navy. Right +opposite is the North Head, or North Shore, as it is usually termed, on +whose twin volcanic peaks is an Armstrong battery, to defend the harbour +entrance in case of need. There is also the signal station on Mount +Victoria, whence incoming vessels may be sighted outside of Tiri-tiri +and the Barrier Islands. There are the villages of Stokes' Point, West +Devonport, and East Devonport beyond, facing the open Pacific, and +renowned for its salubrious sea-breezes. + +Just beneath us is the railway station, whence the line runs across the +isthmus, connecting Auckland with Onehunga on the Manukau Harbour, +where the West Coast traffic is carried on, and thus placing Auckland, +like Corinth, upon two seas. The railway also extends southwards to the +Waikato.[1] Onehunga is only some half-dozen miles from the outskirts of +the city, and the road to it lies between fields and meadows, bordered +with hedgerows, by villa and cottage and homestead, quite in English +rural style. The road also leads by Ellerslie race-course, and the +Ellerslie Gardens, the Auckland Rosherville. + +The coastal traffic that is carried on in the Manukau is nearly equal in +extent to the similar trade done in the Waitemata, hence the commercial +importance of Auckland can hardly be rivalled by that of any other city +of New Zealand. Dunedin, in the far south, holds a similar status to +Auckland in the north, but the cities are too far distant (some eight +hundred nautical miles) to become rivals to the detriment of each other. + +Beyond the railway, we look across the inland sweep of Mechanic's Bay to +the rising ground on its further side, crowned by the popular and +picturesque suburb of Parnell. On the river side the streets descend to +the shore; the houses, most of them pretty wooden villas, standing each +in its terraced garden grounds, embowered in rich foliage. On the land +side a gully divides Parnell from the Domain. This serves as a public +park and recreation ground for citizens of Auckland. It is a tract of +original forest or bush, through whose bosky glades winding walks have +been cut, leading up and down range and gully, furnished with seats and +arbours and artificial accessories. Conjoined to the Domain are the +gardens of the Acclimatization Society, which are beautiful and +interesting on account of their botanical and zoological contents. + +Rising at some distance behind the Domain, we catch a glimpse of Mount +Hobson, upon whose sides nestles the suburb of the same name. To the +right of it lies the Great South Road, whereon is the village of +Newmarket, and beyond it again the scattered suburb of Epsom, and that +gem of lovely hamlets, Remuera. + +Our eyes, slowly travelling round to take in all these points, are now +turned directly away from the harbour. Before us stretches a long road +named Symonds Street, leading past the Supreme Court--a brick and stone +building of considerable architectural pretension--past the wide +cemetery, and allowing beyond a sight of the hospital in the valley +below, on till the large suburb of Newton--hardly disconnected at all +from the city proper--is reached. + +In this direction is situated Government House, a large mansion of wood, +standing in park-like grounds, where the English oak, the American +maple, the Australian blue-gum, the semi-tropical palm, and the New +Zealand kauri mingle their foliage together. Some distance further, and +to the left of the road, rises Mount Eden. On one side of it is the +gaol, a group of buildings surrounded by a wall and palisades, and +situated in a scoria quarry. Among the spurs and declivities of the +mount are many villas of the wealthier citizens, standing in well +laid-out grounds, and making a very pleasing picture. + +We now look right across the densest part of the city, from our first +standpoint near St. Matthew's Church. Below is Queen Street, with the +roofs of the various buildings already noticed in it. Beyond it there is +a corresponding high ground to that on which we are, and behind that +again is Freeman's Bay. On the crest of the eminence is St. Paul's +"cathedral"--so styled; the principal Anglican church of the city. In +the distance the breezy suburb of Ponsonby is pointed out to us, +occupying high ground, from which is visible the winding valley of the +Waitemata, stretching away up into the hills. Here and there can be +seen the spires or belfries of numerous churches and chapels, for +Auckland is an eminently religious city, and has temples and tabernacles +for almost every Christian creed. + +Our companion dilates upon the institutions of the city, which are +highly creditable to so young a community, and are in advance of those +of many European towns of equal population, that can trace back their +history considerably further than Auckland's thirty-and-odd years. In +matters ecclesiastical and educational the young city is indeed well +endowed. There are two bishops, Roman and Anglican, a Presbytery, and +governing bodies of other denominations. There is a College and Grammar +School of the New Zealand University, common schools in the city, +private schools of all sorts and sects, a training school and ship at +Kohimarama, an establishment for young clergymen, and convent schools. +There are asylums, orphanages, and refuges. + +There are institutes and halls belonging to all kinds of societies: +Young Men's Christian Association, Mechanics, Good Templars, Freemasons, +Orangemen, Oddfellows, Foresters, etc. There is the Auckland Institute +and Museum, the Acclimatization Society, Agricultural Society, +Benevolent Societies, etc. There are Cricketing, Rowing, and Yachting +Clubs. There is a mayor and City Council, with Harbour Board, Highway +Board, Domain Board, and Improvement Commissions. There is the Supreme +Court, the District Court, the Resident Magistrate's Court, and the +Police Court. There are public and circulating libraries, two daily +morning newspapers, an evening newspaper, two weekly newspapers, two +weekly journals of fiction, and two monthly religious periodicals. + +The city is lighted by gas supplied by a private company; and the +water-supply is under municipal control. It returns three members to the +House of Representatives, while Parnell and Newton each return one. So +much and more does our cicerone favour us with, until he has, as he +thinks, convinced us that Auckland is really the finest place of +residence in the world. + +We now pass down into the city again, taking a new route past the +Northern Club, a lofty and unsightly building, whose members are +notoriously hospitable, and much given to whist and euchre. Downhill a +short distance, and we come to the Albert Barracks, where newly-arrived +immigrants are housed, and where most of our sometime shipmates now are. +They are comfortably quartered here for the present, but no incitement +is held out to them to remain long, and every inducement is given them +to get an engagement and quit as soon as may be. It seldom happens that +there is any difficulty in this; usually, indeed, there is a rush to +engage the new-comers, so much are servants and labourers, mechanics and +artizans in request. + +There have been times when would-be employers would go off in +shore-boats to the immigrant ship in the harbour, and though not allowed +on board, would make efforts to hire domestics and labourers at the side +of the vessel. Again, when the government immigrants were landed, and +were marched up from the wharf to the barracks, a mob of employers would +escort the procession, endeavouring to hire helps, and with such success +that sometimes the barracks were hardly needed at all. But such scenes +are becoming rarer now, though there must continue, for many years to +come, to be a run upon certain classes of immigrants, notably single +girls for house-servants.[2] + +Turning into the barrack-yard, round which are the various buildings +where the immigrants are temporarily housed, we find an animated scene +before us. Here are assembled most of our immigrant shipmates, some few +of whom have already got engagements and gone off. A considerable party +of settlers and agents are now busily at work trying to hire the people +they severally want; while the poor bewildered immigrants find +themselves treated as though they were goods in an auction-room, and +scarcely know whether they are standing on their heads or their heels. + +It so happens that there is just now a great demand for agricultural and +domestics, so that settlers are actually bidding against each other for +the individuals they want to engage. Our ship-load was no special body +of people, but a motley collection of men, women, and children from all +parts of the old country. Among them are natives of Kent and of +Cornwall, of Yorkshire and of Wales, of Inverness and of Galway. + +Here are a couple of brothers whom we made special friends with on the +voyage, young hardy Scots; let us see how they get on. We find them at a +premium, surrounded by a little crowd of farmers from the Waikato, who +each and all seem intent on hiring them. The lads do not wish to part if +they can help it; and so, as to get one means to get both, the farmers +are all the hotter in their pursuit of them. For these young men are +just the right sort that are most wanted, having the thews and sinews +and power of endurance so necessary for a rough life; having experience +of sheep and cattle and agricultural work from their earliest infancy; +having, in fact, all the qualities most essential and useful to the +pioneer farmer. They come of the right race, too, as all the world +knows--colonists especially--for honesty, sobriety, and patient +industry. + +What a change for them--from the inclement sky, the hostile winter, the +rugged battle for life they have left behind them with their native +Grampians, to this bright clime of everlasting summer, of strange +fertility, to these sunshiny isles of beauty and plenty! Well, well, it +is not a land of indolence either; the work demanded here is stern and +hard and rough; but what a reward may be reaped in the end from earnest +and unshrinking toil! No wonder if, in a year or two's time, our friends +yonder will write to the dear ones they left at home, in the Perthshire +glen, such an account as shall bear witness that they, at least, have +found on earth the Peasant's Paradise! + +There is hot and excited bargaining going on in the group of which the +brothers form the centre. They are a little dazed, and do not venture to +speak; but they are canny for all that, and bide their time. Amid the +babel of voices that surrounds us on all sides, we catch a few +utterances as follows:-- + +"Five shillings a day, and your tucker!" + +"Five and threepence, lads!" + +"He'll give you nothing but salt pork; try me at the same wage!" + +"And you'll have to live on potatoes and pumpkins with him!" + +"Five and six, and as much mutton as you want!" + +"Too much, perhaps, and braxy at that!" + +"Come, a cottage to yourselves, rations, and five and six a day!" + +"Cottage! A tumble-down whare is what he means!" + +"Fresh meat every day with me, boys--beef, mutton, and pork!" + +"Yes; and he'll want you to work twelve hours!" + +"Better engage with me at five and nine; I'll lodge you well, and feed +you first chop!" + +And so on and so on, until at last the brothers pluck up determination, +and make choice of an employer. So our Caledonian friends begin to +gather together their traps and make preparations to accompany their +complaisant and well-satisfied boss to his farm on the banks of the +Waikato. And an indescribable joy is in their hearts, for they are to +receive six shillings and sixpence a day, and to be provided with +comfortable lodging and lavish "tucker" withal; and though, no doubt, +they will prove worthy of that high wage to their employer, yet what +marvellous wealth it is, compared to the most they could have earned had +they remained to toil upon the braes of Albyn! + +Of course, very few of the other immigrants get such a wage as that. The +two young Scots are the picked men of the crowd. Five shillings a day +and "all found" is the ordinary wage for an agricultural, and though +some are worth more, new-chums are generally held to be worth a good +deal less for their first year. The distich-- + + "Eight hours' sleep and eight hours' play, + Eight hours' work and eight bob a day," + +has been, and is, verified literally over and over again in New Zealand; +but the "eight bob a day" cannot be called an ordinary wage. A man must +be worth his salt and something over to get it, and will not do so +unless labour is scarce and in much demand. Those who contract, or do +work by the piece, often make as much and more if they are first-rate +workers; and that kind of engagement is preferred by both employers and +employes, as a rule. + +All sorts of skilled labourers get high wages. Carpenters and +blacksmiths will get ten and twelve shillings a day with their keep; +and when they have saved a little money, and can go on the job by +themselves, they may earn an advance on that. + +I have already noticed the great demand that there is for female +house-servants, and the high wages they can get. Girls cannot be relied +on to stop in a situation very long, as they are sure to receive +numerous matrimonial offers; hence there is a perpetual seeking after +new domestics. Marriage is an institution that turns out uncommonly well +here. There is no such thing as a descent to pauperism for those who +will work. By little and little the working couple thrive and prosper, +and as their family--New Zealand families run large, by the +way--multiplies and grows up round them, they are able to enjoy the +comforts of a competence they could never have attained at home. Some +settlers, who originally came out, man and wife, as government +immigrants drawn from the peasant class, are now wealthy proprietors of +broad acres, flocks, and herds; and are able to send their sons to +college and their daughters to finishing-schools; the whilom humble +servant girl now riding in her carriage, and wearing silk and satin if +she list. Such are the rewards that may tempt the peasant here. +Difficulties there are in plenty, but they lessen year by year; while +comfort and competence are certain in the end, and wealth even is +possible to the industrious. + +Occasionally it happens that among a body of immigrants are one or two +who are decidedly unsuitable. There is an example among our particular +ship-load. Here is a woman, purblind, decrepit, looking sixty years old +at least, and, by some incomprehensible series of mistakes, she has +found her way out here as a "single girl!" What was the Agent-General in +London about, and what could the Dispatching Officer have been thinking +of, when they let this ancient cripple pass them? Yet here she is, a +"single girl" in immigrant parlance; and work she must get somehow and +somewhere, for there are no poorhouses or paupers here as yet. But even +she, useless to all seeming as she is, and unable to bear her part in +the energetic industry of a new country, will find her billet. A +good-natured farmer takes her off, judging that she may earn her keep in +his kitchen, and if not--well! he is prosperous, and should be generous +too. And so old granny toddles away amid the friendly laughter of the +crowd, satisfied enough to find there is a niche even for her in our +Canaan. + +The great question that of late years has been continually asked of old +colonials in England is, what are the prospects afforded by New Zealand +to men of the middle classes? The answer is usually unfavourable, +simply because many colonials cannot disassociate the idea of a +gentleman adventurer from that of a scapegrace or ne'er-do-well. +Secondly, they look at the questioner's present condition; and never +take into consideration the power he may have of adapting himself to +totally different circumstances. I think this view admits of +considerable enlargement, and my experience has led me to believe that +many a man, who struggles through life in the old country in some +exacting and ill-paid sedentary occupation, might have been benefited by +emigration. The colonies have been inundated with ruined spendthrifts, +gamblers, drunkards, idle good-for-nothings, who have been induced to +emigrate in the belief that that alone was a panacea for their moral +diseases. Very very few of them have reformed or done any good, so that +colonists are naturally prejudiced against their class, and look upon +gentleman-new-chums with great suspicion. Again, some go out who are too +delicate or sensitive to stand the roughnesses they are bound to +undergo, and these break down in their apprenticeship the first year or +two, and, if they can, go home again to speak evil of the colony ever +afterwards. + +One thing is certain, the educated man has the advantage over the +uneducated, and his abler mind will sooner or later be of use to him, +although his physique may be weaker than the other's. The +gently-nurtured individual finds the preliminary trials of colonial life +very hard indeed--he is heavily handicapped at the start--but there is +no reason why he may not do well after a time. Gentlemen-immigrants +usually think they may find work of a congenial sort, such as clerking, +assisting in a store, or some occupation of the kind in the city. That +is a mistake; while yet they are new-chums there is but one thing for +them to do--to go away into the bush and labour with their hands. Of +new-chums, only artisans are absorbed into the city population as a +rule; all others have to look to manual labour of some kind, and +generally up-country, for a means of subsistence. All the clerks, +counter-jumpers, secretaries, and so on, are either old colonials, or +colonists' sons. Very rare is it for a gentleman new-chum to find a +berth of that sort, perhaps he may after he has become "colonized," but +at first he will have to go straight away and fell bush, chop firewood, +drive cattle, or tend pigs. About the best advice I ever heard given to +middle-class men, who thought of emigrating to New Zealand, was couched +in some such terms as these. + +"What are your prospects here? If you have any, stop where you are. But +if you have no particular profession, nothing better before you than +laborious quill-driving and the like, at eighty pounds a year, and small +probability of ever rising so high as two hundred, however many years +you stick to the desk, or the yard-measure, then you may think of +emigrating. If you are strong and able-bodied, somewhere between sixteen +and twenty-six years of age--for over twenty-six men are generally too +old to emigrate, I think--I say, emigrate by all means, for you will +have a better chance of leading a healthy, happy, and fairly comfortable +life. But you must throw all ideas of gentility to the winds, banish the +thought of refinement, and prepare for a rough, hard struggle, and it +may be a long one, too. You may please yourselves with the prospect of +competence, comfort, and even luxury in the distance, but you must look +at it through a lengthy vista of real hard work, difficulty, and bodily +hardship. Success, in a greater or lesser degree, _always_ follows +patient industry at the Antipodes; it can scarcely be said to do so in +Britain. + +"Now, _Il n'y a que le premier pas qui coute_, and the worst time you +will have is at the first; also, it is only for the start that you need +advice, after you become 'colonized' you can look out for yourselves. If +you have any particular acquaintance with a useful trade, so much the +better; if you have not, and can do so, learn one before you +go--carpentry, boat-building, blacksmithing, tinkering, cobbling; it +will help you through wonderfully. It doesn't matter twopence _how_ you +go out, whether saloon, intermediate, or steerage, so far as your future +prospects are concerned. If you can compass the means, go saloon--the +extra comfort on a long voyage is well worth the extra price; besides, +you might have some returning colonist as fellow-voyager, whose +friendship would prove useful. When you land, bank any money you may +have brought with you--whether it be ten pounds or ten thousand, I say +the same--and resolve not to touch it, however you may be tempted, for +two years at least. Then go about freely, get into the bush away from +the city, make friends with every one everywhere, and let it be known +that you are in search of work. Very soon you will hear of something or +other. Take the job, the first that comes in your way, and stick to it +till something better turns up. Don't be afraid of it whatever it is; +don't imagine anything will hurt you or lower your dignity in the +slightest so long as it is honest. Even if they make you a +street-scavenger, remember that is better than loafing. In one year, or +two, or three, you will be perfectly at home in the new life, and able +to see, according to your abilities, the path that offers you the best +prospect of the greatest success. During your new-chum days of +apprenticeship you must consider yourself as a common peasant, like the +men you will probably have to associate with; don't be disconcerted at +that, just work on, and by-and-by you will get ahead of them. You will +meet plenty of nice gentlemanly fellows in any part of New Zealand, and +they will think all the better of you if you are earnestly and +energetically industrious. Lastly, don't run away with the notion that +you are going to jump into luck directly you land. Wages are high to the +right people, but you are not among those at the outset. You may be +satisfied if you do anything more than just earn your keep, for the +first six or twelve months." + +I think that that is, upon the whole, pretty sound advice for the class +of men to whom it is addressed; but I will go further, and point out +what advantages the average middle-class "young gentleman" may +reasonably look forward to from emigration to New Zealand. In the first +place, he may expect to enjoy robust health, more perfect and enjoyable +than he could hope for if tied down to a counting-house stool in the +dingy atmosphere of a city. He will exchange the dull monotony of a +sedentary occupation in the chill and varying climate of Britain, for a +life of vigorous action in a land whose climate is simply superb. When +he gets through the briars that must necessarily be traversed at the +outset, he will find himself happier, freer from anxiety, and, on the +whole, doing better than he would be if he had remained at the old life. +He will "feel his life in every limb," and, remote from the world, know +naught of its cares. If he be anything of a man, before ten or a dozen +years are gone he will find himself with a bit of land and a house of +his own; he will be married, or able to marry, his earnings will suffice +for existence, while every pound saved and invested in property will be +growing, doubling, and quadrupling itself for his age and his children. +There is something to work for and hope for here: independence, +contentment, and competence. It is not a stern struggle from year's end +to year's end, with naught at the finish but a paltry pension, +dependence on others, or the workhouse. The gentleman-colonist we are +talking of is working for a _home_, and, long before his term of life +draws to its close, he will find himself, if not rich, at any rate, in +the possession of more comfort and happiness than he could hope for in +the old country. + +I am not an emigration-tout, and have no interest in painting my picture +in too vivid colours, and in these remarks I have transgressed against +some of the ordinary colonial views on the subject; but I have done so +with intention, because I consider them not entirely in the right. The +colonist says--we don't want gentlemen here, we want MEN! But he forgets +that the unfortunate individual he disparages has often more real +manhood at bottom than the class below him. Therefore, the middle-class +emigrant must remember the qualities most required in him--pluck, +energy, and resolution. + +I have met many middle-class men in the colony, and all contrived to +bear out the view I have put forward by their own condition. Those who +come to grief do so from their own failings and deficiencies. Some growl +and grumble a little now and then, and think they would rather be back +in England; but, when they reflect upon the condition they would +probably be occupying at home in the ordinary course of things, they are +forced to admit that they are better off. At any rate, such bitter and +terrible distress as overtook so many thousands in Britain a year or two +ago, could scarcely fall to the lot of the same people under any +circumstances, if they were industrious colonists. But I have digressed +inordinately, and must get back to Auckland forthwith. + +The barracks are empty at last, and all our fellow-voyagers have found +each his or her starting-point in the new life. Our own little party of +cuddy-passengers is dispersed as well. Some have gone off to join +friends in the country, some are gone on to distant parts of the colony, +some have gone this way or that, scattering to work in all directions; +only a couple of us are left, and it is time that we should begin to +follow the plan we have conceived for ourselves. + +Parting with shipmates, with the faces that have been so long familiar +to us, seems to have severed the last link that bound us to the old +country, the old home, and the old ways. We shall meet with many of them +again, no doubt, but then the old "Englishness" will have disappeared, +and we shall be at one with those who now are strangers to us, we too +shall be New Zealanders. Henceforth all before us and around us is +strange and new, an untried, unknown world. We are about to enter on a +life totally different to that we have hitherto led, and it is a life +that we have got to make ours for the time to come; for there is no +thought in our minds of retreat, even if we find the unknown more +distasteful than we think. But, courage! "Hope points before to guide us +on our way," and, as yet, there is nothing in the prospect but what is +bright and inspiriting, surely; nothing to diminish our youthful energy, +nothing to daunt our British pluck! The past lies behind us, with its +sweet and tender recollections, and with a softened sense of +remembrance of those failures and sadnesses and bitternesses that are +linked with them. Now our cry must be "Forward!" for a page in the book +of our lives is completely turned down, and we may imagine there is +endorsed upon it, "Sacred to the memory of auld lang syne!" + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 1: 1882. The railway now runs northward to Helensville, +connecting Auckland with the Kaipara; and is being pushed on to +Whangarei. To the south, it penetrates far into the Waikato country, and +it is only a question of a few years before Auckland, New Plymouth, +Wellington, and Napier will be joined by rail.] + +[Footnote 2: 1882. During the last year or two, there has been some +depression in New Zealand, and, for the first time in her history, many +labourers have had difficulty in getting work. But that crisis is now +past, and things are rapidly returning--as they were bound to do--to +former conditions, such as I have described.] + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +GOING UP COUNTRY. + + +I and my last remaining shipmate certainly came out here without any +very clear idea of what we were going to do. We came to make our +fortunes, of course, after the manner of all new-chums, but as to how we +were to set about it, and what were to be the first steps we should +take, we had the very vaguest notion. + +However, our condition of existence as new-chums sat very lightly upon +us. Hope! We were all hope; we were hope incarnate! We felt that we were +bound to win. It seemed, though, that the beginning must be made in some +fashion that was, to say the least of it, unpleasant, now that we were +face to face with the reality. Plenty of work offered, but none of it +seemed to be of a particularly engaging kind; and, moreover, the wage +offered us was extremely paltry, so we considered. For we belonged to +that much maligned middle-class, which, in the chrysalis or new-chum +stage, is so greatly contemned by colonists. + +But it happened that, long long ago, a certain schoolfellow of ours had +gone forth into the colonial world. He was in the sixth form when we +were in the first, or thereabouts; but, as his family and ours were +neighbours in the old home, there had been enough intimacy between us. +It was owing to his letters home that we had determined on emigration. +He had been apprised of our coming, so now we were not surprised to +receive a message from him through a resident in Auckland. This was an +invitation to join him at a distant settlement called Te Pahi, there to +make a beginning at pioneer farm work, and see what might turn up. + +We found on inquiry that little or nothing was known in Auckland of Te +Pahi. It was a new township in the Kaipara district, lying sixty or +eighty miles north of Auckland. That was about the sum of what we could +learn of our destination, except that there were very few settlers in +the Kaipara, and that communication between it and Auckland was not very +good. Somewhat later than this date--in fact, to be precise, in 1875--an +Auckland newspaper wrote of the Kaipara under the title of Terra +Incognita. So that when we decided on going there, we felt that we were +about to penetrate an almost unexplored country. But we found out what +were the means of transit, and prepared to set out without further +delay. + +Now that we were on the point of starting into the bush, and entering +into the realities of our new life, we began to encounter the +difficulties of our situation. The first that met us would be more +annoying were it not for the ludicrousness of it. It was the baggage +difficulty, a thing that took us quite by surprise; for, till then, we +had never appreciated the word "transport" at its full meaning. Like +most home-living Britons, hitherto surrounded by every facility for +locomotion of persons and goods, we had utterly failed to understand +that in a new country things are wholly different in this respect. One +can get about one's self easily enough; travel can always be +accomplished somehow, even if one has to walk; but it is quite another +thing to move baggage. In a roadless country, where labour is scarce and +dear, the conveyance of goods from place to place is a difficult matter. +It can be done, of course, but the cost of it is frightful. + +Our old schoolfellow, who, by the way, will be known under the +appellation of "Old Colonial" in these pages, had apparently had some +experience of new-chums before. His agent in Auckland had been +instructed to see to us, and one of that person's first inquiries was +regarding our impedimenta. + +We had been out-fitted in London by the world-renowned firm of Argent +and Joy. There being no experience to guide us, we had placed ourselves +unreservedly in the hands of the firm, and had been provided by them +with a sumptuous stock of what they were pleased to term necessaries. +Altogether, these formed a goodly pile. Our bedroom at the hotel was +cram full of boxes, trunks, and portmanteaus; and their contents were +now spread out for the inspection of our adviser. + +"Good gracious!" was his exclamation when he surveyed our property, and +then he mused awhile. + +"Look here!" he said suddenly. "I've got some distressing intelligence +to break to you. Prepare your minds for a shock. This inheritance is a +_dead horse_. Chuck it overboard at once!" And he waved his hand +impressively over our belongings. + +We did not understand; we thought this was some new kind of joke--which +it was, but not to us. We asked for explanations; all that we wanted was +to know how we were to get these things up to the Kaipara. Our colonial +friend sighed deeply, and proceeded mournfully to expound the position. +He told us that we could not afford to possess more personals than were +absolutely necessary, and these ought to pack into one box of easily +portable size. In the first place, the freight of our baggage into the +bush would cost us something approaching to the expense of our passage +out from England. In the second place, we were not going to a house of +our own, but were going to work on different farms, and might be moving +about a good deal. We could not carry such a cargo about with us, for +the cost of doing so would be simply ruinous. It appeared, too, that we +could not even keep the things until we _had_ got a house of our own to +store them in. For, our only resource, with that in view, would be to +warehouse them in Auckland, and the expense of even this dead weight +would make too large a hole in our possible earnings. Finally, there was +hardly anything in our entire outfit that would be of much practical use +to us. + +Aghast and grieving, we comprehended at last that we should have to rid +ourselves of the too heavy burden with which Messrs. Argent and +Joy had weighted us, in consideration of that prodigious and +ever-to-be-regretted cheque. There was no help for it. An Israelitish +dealer, who happily abided in the city, would have to be called in. And +it could scarcely be said that he bought our property of us; it was a +nearer approach to our having to pay him to take it away. + +Our friend contemptuously examined parcel after parcel of things. Dress +suits and white waistcoats, broadcloth and doeskin, scarves and gloves, +white shirts, collars, and cuffs all appeared to move his derision. He +kicked aside a dozen pairs of boots with the remark that-- + +"There's nothing there fit for this country. Rough-hide and hobnails is +what you want." + +Certain tweed suits that the fancy of our London tailor had invested +with the title "New Zealand Specialities" were, said our friend, only +suitable for colonists who intended to settle on the top of the Southern +Alps. Various knick-knacks, dressing-cases, writing-cases, clocks, +etcetera, were regarded by him as contemptible lumber. Some silk socks +he looked upon almost as a criminal possession. + +In the end we were reduced to a single box apiece, containing something +like the following assortment, several items of which had to be +purchased in Auckland. Six flannel shirts, two blankets, two pair +moleskin breeches, one light pilot coat, one light tweed coat and +trousers (which we wore at the time), some handkerchiefs, some socks, +two towels, brush and comb, two pairs of boots, and one pair of +leggings, a wide-awake hat, and a few odds and ends. Such books as we +had we were allowed to retain, for, although the time for reading is +very limited in the bush, yet, books being a rare commodity, are much +prized there. + +Of course, there was much merriment among the colonials at our expense, +but I think the greatest mirth was excited by our cases of revolvers. +These we had brought under the idea that they would prove to be a +necessity, imagining that war with the Maoris was the normal condition +of things, and that society was constituted something like what Bret +Harte writes of in the Rocky Mountains. + +We had had to pay a tax of five shillings each upon our pistols before +bringing them on shore. We were now told that this tax was a main source +of the Government revenue. Again, we were told that the exportation of +new-chums' pistols to the United States was one of the main industries +of the colony. But our purgatory was over at last, and our splendid +outfits had passed into Hebrew hands, leaving a very meagre sum of money +with us to represent them. And now we are ready to start in earnest. + +Low down in the water, almost beneath the timbers of the wharf, is lying +a queer little steam-tub, the _Gemini_, which will convey us on the +first stage of our journey. A loafer on the wharf cautions us mockingly +to step aboard with care, lest we overset the little steamer, or break +through her somewhat rickety planking. She is about the size of some of +those steam-launches that puff up and down the English Thames, but she +would look rather out of place among them; for the _Gemini_ and her +sister boat, the _Eclipse_, which carry on the steam service of the +Waitemata, are neither handsome nor new. They are rough and ready boats, +very much the worse for wear. Such as they are, however, they suffice +for the limited traffic up to Riverhead, and to the districts reached +through that place. When that increases, doubtless their enterprising +owner will replace them with more serviceable craft. + +Punctuality is by no means one of the chief points of the _Gemini_, and +it is an hour or two after the advertised time before we get off. There +is a good deal of snorting and shrieking, of backing and filling, on the +part of our bark, and then at last we are fairly on our way up the +river. We take a last long look at the good ship that brought us from +England, as she lies out at anchor in the harbour, and when a bend in +the river hides Auckland's streets and terraces from our view, we feel +that we have turned our backs on civilization for a while, and are fast +getting among the pioneers. + +On board the _Gemini_ is a face we know. It is that of Dobbs, a sometime +shipmate of ours. He is a farm labourer from Sussex, and he and his +wife have come out among our ship-load of emigrants. There is a chronic +look of wonder on their broad English faces. They are in speechless +surprise at everything they see, but chiefly, apparently, at finding +themselves actually in a new country at all. + +Dobbs touches his hat, and addresses me as "sir," when he sees me, quite +forgetting that we are now in the colonies, where such modes are not +practised; regardless also of the fact that I am on my way to just the +same life and work that he is himself. The skipper of the _Gemini_ +notices the action, and grins sarcastically, while he tells a +subordinate in a stage-whisper to "just look at them new-chums." + +English readers must not suppose from this that colonial manners are +discourteous. Far from it. Colonials will not touch their hats, or use +any form that appears to remind them of servility, flunkeyism, or +inequalities of station. On the other hand, incivility is much more +rarely experienced among even the roughest colonials than it is in many +parts of the old country, in Birmingham, for example. Apart from that, +the new-chum is the incarnate comedy of colonial life. He is eagerly +watched, and much laughed at; yet he is seldom or never subjected to any +actual rudeness. On the contrary, he is generally treated with extra +tenderness and consideration, on account of his helpless and immature +condition. Perhaps I may sum up the analysis by saying, that, if polish +is lacking to the colonial character, so also is boorishness. + +Our fellow-emigrant tells us that he has been engaged as a farm labourer +by a settler at Ararimu, near Riverhead, and that his wife is to do +washing and cooking and dairy-work. They are to have thirty shillings a +week, and they, with their child, will have board and lodging provided +for them as well, and that in a style a good deal better than +agriculturals are accustomed to in England. They seem well enough +contented with things, though a trifle daunted by the strangeness of +their surroundings. Dobbs has misgivings as to the work that will be +required of him. He knows, however, that the labourer's day is reckoned +at only eight hours here, and is much consoled thereby. Very likely we +may find him a thriving farmer on his own account, and on his own land, +if we should chance to meet again in a few years' time. + +There is little or no attraction in the scenery along the eighteen or +twenty miles of river between Auckland and Riverhead. Great stretches of +mud-bank are visible in many places at low tide, varied by occasional +clumps of mangrove, and by oyster-covered rocks. The land on either side +is mostly of very poor quality, though a good deal of it has been taken +up. Here and there, we pass in sight of some homestead; a white +verandah-ed wooden house, surrounded by its gardens, orchards, paddocks, +and fields. The steamer stops, and lies off three or four such places +while her dingey communicates with the shore, embarking or disembarking +passengers, mails, or goods. Generally, though, when the river-banks are +low enough to permit of a view beyond them, we see nothing but very +barren and shaggy-looking tracts, not unlike Scottish moorlands in +general aspect. Occasionally there are poor scrubby grasslands, where +the soil has not done justice to the seed put upon it; and where cattle, +horses, and sheep appear to be picking up a living among the fern and +ti-tree. + +As we get nearer to Riverhead the stream narrows. This is the point to +which the tide reaches. Beyond it the Waitemata is supplied by two +creeks, the Riverhead Creek and the Rangitopuni. Here the banks are +steep and high, somewhat picturesque, with varied ferns and shrubbery. +On the north side the ranges rise into a background of hills. + +This is the end of our river journey, as is evidenced by the Riverhead +wharf, built out from the bank. Here we land, and are received by two +men, who represent the population of the district, and who apparently +are idle spectators. By their advice we shoulder our traps, and climb up +some steps to the top of the bank. Right before us here is an +unpretending house, built in the usual rambling style of architecture +peculiar to frame-houses in this country. A board stuck up over the +verandah announces that this is the hotel; and, as the arrival of the +steamer is the signal for dinner, every one makes for the open French +windows of the dining-room. + +Dinner is ready we find, and we are ready for it. Perhaps about a dozen +passengers came up from Auckland in the boat, and as many of these as +are not at home in the immediate neighbourhood sit down to the table. +The party is further augmented by the skipper and his assistants, the +wharf-keepers, one or two residents in the hotel, and the host and +hostess with their family. Quite a large company altogether, and of very +promiscuous elements. The only persons not entirely at their ease are +Dobbs and his wife. They find themselves dining with the "quality," as +they would have said at home, and have not yet learnt that that word is +written "equality" in this part of the world. + +At the head of the table sits somebody who is evidently a personage, +judging by the flattering attentions paid to him by the daughters of the +house, and by the regard with which all but we strangers treat him. It +is Dandy Jack, afterwards to become one of our most intimate and +cherished chums. As I shall have more to say about him, perhaps I may +here be allowed to formally introduce him to the reader. + +The first glance at him reveals the origin of his sobriquet. Amid the +rawness and roughness of everything in the bush, its primitive society +included, the figure of Dandy Jack stands out in strong relief. +Contrasted with the unkempt, slovenly, ragged, and dirty bushmen with +whom he mostly comes in contact, he is the very essence of foppery. Yet, +as we are afterwards to learn, he is anything but the idle, effeminate +coxcomb, whose appearance he so assiduously cultivates. Here is a +photograph of Dandy Jack. + +Five feet six inches; broad and muscular, but spare and clean-limbed. +Curly black hair, and a rosy-complexioned face, clean shaven--contrary +to the ordinary custom of the country--all except a thick drooping +moustache with waxed ends. A grey flannel shirt, with some stitching and +embroidery in front; and a blue silk scarf loosely tied below the +rolling collar. No coat this warm weather, but a little bouquet in the +breast of the shirt. A tasselled sash round the waist; spotless white +breeches, and well-blacked long boots. A Panama straw hat with broad +brim and much puggeree. An expression of affected innocence in the eyes, +and a good deal of fun about the mouth. Such is the figure we now look +upon for the first time. + +Dandy Jack is a character; that one sees at once. He is generally +understood to have passed lightly through Eton and Oxford, to have sown +wild oats about Europe at large, to have turned up in Western America +and the Pacific, and to be now endeavouring to steady down in New +Zealand. He has a considerable spice of the devil in him, and is at once +the darling of the ladies and the delight of the men. For to the one he +is gallantry itself; while, to the other, he is the chum who can talk +best on any subject under the sun, with a fluency and power of anecdote +and quotation that is simply enchanting. + +Just at present Dandy Jack has charge of the portage, as it is called, +between the Waitemata and the Kaipara rivers.[3] He drives the coach, +carries the mails, and bosses the bullock-drays that convey goods +between Riverhead and Helensville. And he is rapidly becoming the most +horsey man in the whole of the North, being especially active and +prominent in every possible capacity on the local race-courses. + +Dinner is over very soon, and a very good one it was, well worth the +shilling each of us pays for it. Then we take leave of Dobbs and his +wife, whose future boss has arrived in a rude cart drawn by two horses, +in which to drive them and their traps over to his place in Ararimu. We +ourselves are going on to Helensville in the coach, a distance of about +eighteen miles. + +The coach partakes of the crudity which seems impressed upon everything +in this new locality. The body of it is not much larger, apparently, +than a four-wheeled cab, and does not seem as if it could possibly +accommodate more than eight passengers altogether. Yet Dandy Jack avers +that he has carried over a score, and that he considers sixteen a proper +full-up load. On the present occasion there are not more than half a +dozen, besides my chum and I. Glass there is none about the coach, but a +good deal of leather. Springs, properly so-called, are also wanting. The +body is hung in some strong rude fashion on broad, substantial wheels. +Altogether, the machine looks as if it were intended for the roughest of +rough work. + +As strangers, we are invited to occupy the seats of honour--on the box +beside the driver. There are no lady passengers to snatch the coveted +post from us. Dandy Jack says to me-- + +"Of course, I should prefer to have a lady beside me, but, somehow, I'm +always glad when there arn't any. It's a grave responsibility--a grave +responsibility!" + +Whilst we are endeavouring to evolve the meaning of this mysterious +remark--it is not until a while later that we fully comprehend +it--preparations are being made for the start. Four ungroomed, unshod +horses are hitched on, and their plunging and capering shows they are +impatient to be off. Our driver's lieutenant, Yankee Bill, mounts a +fifth horse, and prepares to act as outrider. Then Dandy Jack, loudly +shouting, "All aboard! All abo-ard!" springs to his seat, gathers up the +reins, without waiting to see whether every one has obeyed his +injunction or not, bids the men who are holding the cattle stand clear, +gives a whoop and a shake of his whip, and then, with a jolt and a lurch +and a plunge, off we go. + +Hitherto we have seen nothing of the settlement, except the hotel and +the goods warehouse on the bank above the wharf. These appear to have +been shot down into the middle of a moorland wilderness. But now, as the +coach surmounts some rising ground, several homesteads come into view, +scattered about within a distance of one or two miles. Beyond the +paddocks surrounding these, all of the country that is visible appears +to be covered with tall brown fern, and a low brushwood not unlike +heather. + +As we go lumbering up the rise we are passed by a young lady riding down +towards the hotel. Very bright and pretty she looks, by contrast with +the rough surroundings. Quite a lovely picture, in her graceful +riding-habit of light drab, and her little billycock hat with its +brilliant feather. So think we all, especially our gallant Jehu, who +bows profoundly in response to a nod of recognition, and turns to look +admiringly after the fair equestrian. + +Then, upon the right, we look down upon the great feature of the +district, Mr. Lamb's flour-mill and biscuit-factory. In this +establishment are made crackers that are well-known and much esteemed +far beyond the limits of New Zealand. The Riverhead manufacture is known +in the South Sea and Australia. The factory stands on the bank of the +creek, having water-power and a water highway at its door. It is a large +structure, mostly of timber, with a tall chimney of brick. Near it is +the residence of the proprietor, and a row of houses inhabited by his +employes. The whole is surrounded by a grove of choice trees and shrubs, +by gardens and paddocks, evidently in a high state of cultivation. +Beyond tower the brown and shaggy ranges, and all around is the uncouth +moorland. It is an oasis in the desert, this green and fertile spot, a +Tadmor in the wilderness. + +Yet when we make some remarks, as new-chums will, about the apparent +richness of the land down there, a settler, who sits behind, takes us up +rather shortly. He appears to consider Mr. Lamb's estate as a positive +offence. "Bone-dust and drainage!" he says with a snort of contempt. It +seems that the land about us is considered to be of the very poorest +quality, sour gum-clay; and any one who sets about reclaiming such sort +is looked upon as a fool, at least, although, in this case, it is +evident that the cultivation is merely an ornamental subsidiary to the +factory. + +But these poor lands are only bad comparatively. Much of the soil in +them is better by far than that of many productive farms at home; only +our colonial pioneer-farmers have no notion of any scientific methods in +agriculture. They have been spoilt by the wondrous fertility of the rich +black forest mould, and the virgin volcanic soils. They will continue to +regard manuring and draining and so forth as a folly and a sin almost, +until the population becomes numerous, and all the first-class lands are +filled up. + +Fresh from high-dried systems and theories of agriculture as practised +in Great Britain, we are dumbfounded by the tirade against manuring, and +the revolutionary ideas which our coach-companion further favours us +with. We are evidently beginning to learn things afresh, though this is +our first day in the bush. + +By the way, I must explain this term to English readers. "Bush" has a +double signification, a general and a particular one. In its first and +widest sense it is applied to all the country beyond the immediate +vicinity of the cities or towns. Thus, Riverhead may be described as a +settlement in the "bush," and our road lies through the "bush," though +here it is all open moorland. But, in a more particular way, "bush" +simply indicates the natural woods and forests. A farmer up-country, who +says he has been into the "bush" after cattle, means that he has been +into the forest, in contradistinction to his own cleared land, the +settlement, or the open country. + +Our road lies at first through the fern lands beyond Riverhead, and we +soon lose sight of the settlement. We appear to be travelling at random +across the moor, for not a trace of what our English eyes have been +taught to regard as a road can we discern. The country is all a rugged +wilderness of range and gully: "gently undulating," you say, if you want +to convey a favourable impression; "abruptly broken and hilly," if you +would speak the literal truth. There is not a level yard of land--it is +all as rough and unequal as it is possible for land to be. + +The road is no macadamized way: it is simply a track that, in many +parts, is barely visible except to practised eyes. Further on, where we +pass through tracts of forest, the axe has cleared a broad path; and +down some steep declivities there has been a mild attempt at a cutting. +Where we come upon streams of any size or depth, light wooden bridges +have been built; and fascines have made some boggy parts fordable in wet +weather. Such is our road, and along it we proceed at a hand-gallop for +the most part. The jolting may be imagined, it cannot be described; for +the four wheels are never by any chance on the same level at one and the +same time. + +When we have proceeded eight or nine miles, Dandy Jack seems to be +preparing himself for some exciting incident. Yankee Bill gallops +alongside, exchanging a mysterious conversation in shouts with him. + +"Better take round by the ford, Cap!" + +"Ford be blanked!" answers Dandy Jack. + +"The rest of the planking's sure to be gone by this time," continues the +cavalier. + +"Then I reckon we'll jump it. Ford's two miles round at least, and we're +late now." + +Our dandy charioteer glances round on his passengers, and remarks-- + +"Hold on tight, boys; and, if we spill, spring clear for a soft place." + +So saying, he plants his feet firmly out, takes a better grip of the +reins, and crams his hat well on to his head. We ignorant new-chums sit +perturbed, for we don't know what is coming, only we do not admire the +grim determination of our driver's mouth, or the devilry flashing from +his eyes. The rest of the passengers say nothing. They know Dandy Jack, +and are philosophically resigned to their fate. + +And now we plunge down the side of a gully, steep and wooded, with a +brawling torrent pouring along its bottom. The road runs obliquely down +the incline, and this descent we proceed to accomplish at a furious +gallop, Dandy Jack shouting and encouraging his horses; his mate riding +beside them, and flogging them to harder exertions. Then we see what is +before us. + +Right at the bottom of the steep road is a bridge across the creek; or, +at least, what was once a bridge, for a freshet or something seems to +have torn it partially up. Originally built by throwing tree-trunks +across from bank to bank, and covering these with planking, what we now +see seems little more than a bare skeleton; for nearly all the planking +is gone, and only the rough bare logs remain--and of these several are +displaced, so that uncomfortable-looking gaps appear. Some feet below +the level of this ruined bridge a regular cataract is flowing. Across +the frail scaffolding--you can call it no more--that spans the torrent, +it is clearly Dandy Jack's intention to hurl the coach, trusting to the +impetus to get it over. We shut our eyes in utter despair of a safe +issue, and hold on to our seats with the clutch of drowning men. It is +all that we can do. + +Meanwhile the four horses, maddened by the whoops and lashes of our +excited Jehu and his aid, are tearing down the slope at racing speed. +The coach is bounding, rocking, jolting at their heels in frightfully +dangerous fashion. We dare not glance at Dandy Jack, but we feel that he +is in his element; and that, consequently, we are in deadly peril. Then +the chorus of yells grows louder and fiercer, the swish of the whips +more constant and furious. There is a tremendous rattle, a series of +awful bumps that seem to dislocate every bone in my body, a feeling that +the coach is somersaulting, I appear to be flying through space among +the stars, and then--all is blank. + +When I recall my shocked and scattered senses, a minute or two later, I +find myself half-buried, head downward, among moss and fern. I pick +myself out of that, and stupidly feel myself all over, fortunately +finding that I have sustained no particular injury. Then I survey the +scene. + +We are on the other side of the stream--so much I discover--but we have +evidently not attained it without a mishap. Not to put too fine a point +upon it, we have experienced a most decided spill. The coach has +overturned just as it crossed the bridge, and passengers and baggage +have been shot forth into the world at large. Fortunately, the ground +was soft with much vegetation, so that no one is much hurt; the +"insides" alone being badly bruised. There is a confused heap of +plunging hoofs, and among them Dandy Jack and Yankee Bill are already +busy, loosening the traces and getting the horses on their feet. + +The passengers go one by one to their assistance, and much objurgation +and ornamental rhetoric floats freely through the atmosphere. Presently, +the coach is got on its wheels again by united effort, and it is found +to be none the worse for the accident. In truth, its builder seems to +have had an eye to such casualties as that we have suffered, and has +adapted the construction of the machine to meet them. + +But with the horses it is different. Three of them are speedily got on +their legs and rubbed down, being no more than scared. The fourth, +however, cannot rise, and examination shows that one of its legs is +broken, and probably the spine injured as well. It is evident the poor +creature is past all further service. So Dandy Jack sits on its head, +while Yankee Bill pulls out his sheath-knife and puts the animal out of +misery. I overhear our eccentric driver murmuring-- + + "Woe worth the chase, woe worth the day + That cost thy life, my gallant grey!"-- + +Adding, in a louder voice-- + +"Twelve pounds I paid for that critter; but I reckon I've had the profit +out of it, anyhow!" + +The horse that Yankee Bill was riding is now unsaddled and hitched up +with the others, in place of the dead one. For baggage and passengers +are being collected again, and it seems we are going on as though +nothing had happened. + +It is, perhaps, not strange that no one should express surprise at the +accident; but it is certainly singular that no one shows any resentment +towards our driver, or blames him in any way. The prevailing feeling is +one of simple congratulation that things are no worse. One would think +the accident was quite a usual affair, and had even been expected. A +passenger remarks quite seriously-- + +"I will say this for Dandy Jack: he always contrives that you shall +pitch into a soft place." + +They seem about to offer a vote of thanks to this reckless madman, for +having overturned us without hurt to any one! It occurs to us two +new-chums that our life in this country is likely to be eventful, if +this kind of thing is the ordinary style of coaching. And we begin to +understand what our driver meant, when he alluded to the grave +responsibility of having a lady among his passengers; for his driving is +only comparable to the driving of the son of Nimshi. + +Before we proceed on our way, the foppery of our charioteer reasserts +itself. Of course, his neat and spruce trim has been considerably +disarrayed, so now he proceeds to reorganize his appearance. Gravely and +calmly he draws brushes and so on from a receptacle under the box-seat, +and commences to titivate himself. This is too much. Laughter and jibes +and energetic rebukes fall on him thick as hail. At first he pays no +attention; then he says slowly-- + +"Look here! If any one wants to walk the rest of the way, he can do it. +I'm willing to split fares for the half journey!" + +There is a covert threat in this, and as no one cares to quarrel with +the speaker, his eccentricities are allowed to develop themselves +without further interference. Then we resume our drive on to +Helensville. + +For the most part the road passes through open country, but we now more +frequently see scrub and bush in various directions. At one place, +indeed, for about two miles, we pass through forest. The trees, mostly +kahikatea, seem to our English eyes of stupendous proportions, but we +are told they grow much bigger in many other parts. Signs of human life +are not altogether wanting in these wilds. We pass a dray coming down +from the Kaipara, laden with wool, and pull up, that Dandy Jack may have +a private conversation with the driver of it. This dray is a huge +waggon, built in a very strong and substantial style, and it is drawn by +twelve span of bullocks. + +Here and there among the fern, usually in the bottom of a gully beside +some patch of scrub, we have noticed little clusters of huts. These are +not Maori whares, as we suppose at first, but are the temporary +habitations of gum-diggers, a nomadic class who haunt the waste tracts +where kauri-gum is to be found buried in the soil. In a few places we +pass by solitary homesteads, looking very comfortable in the midst of +their more or less cultivated paddocks and clearings. These are usually +fixed on spots where the soil, for a space of a few hundred acres, +happens to be of better quality than the gum-lands around. At most of +these settlers' houses somebody is on the look-out for the coach, and +there is a minute's halt to permit of the exchange of mails or news. For +travellers along the road are very few in number, and the bi-weekly +advent of the coach is an event of importance. + +The afternoon is wearing late, and the rays of the declining sun are +lengthening the shadows, when we emerge on the top of a high hill that +overlooks the valley of the Kaipara. A wide and magnificent prospect +lies spread before us. Far down below the river winds through a broad +valley, the greater expanse of which, being low and swampy, is covered +with a dense thicket of luxuriant vegetation. In parts we see great +masses of dark, sombre forest, but even in the distance this is relieved +by variety of colouring, flowering trees, perhaps, or the brilliant +emerald of clusters of tree-ferns. Right out on the western boundary a +line of hills shuts out the sea, and their summits glisten with a +strange ruddy and golden light--the effect of the sun shining on the +wind-driven sand that covers them. To the north the river widens and +winds, until, far away, we get a glimpse of the expanding waters of +the Kaipara Harbour. Successive hills and rolling ranges, clothed with +primeval forest, close in upon the valley. + +About the centre of the broad-stretching vale, we discern a little patch +of what looks like grass and cleared land. There is here a cluster of +houses, whitely gleaming beside the river, and that hamlet is +Helensville--the future town and metropolis of the Kaipara. + +The road, from the hill-top where we are, winds in a long descent of +about two miles down to the township. It is scarcely needful to say that +Dandy Jack considers it incumbent on him to make his entrance into +Helensville with as much flourish and _eclat_ as possible. Accordingly, +we proceed along the downhill track at breakneck speed, and come +clattering and shouting into the village, amid much bustle and +excitement. We are finally halted in an open space before the hotel, +which is evidently intended to represent a village green or public +square, the half-dozen houses of the place being scattered round it. + +The entire population has turned out to witness our arrival: a score or +so of bearded, sunburnt, rough-looking men, three or four women, and a +group of boys and children. A babel of conversation ensues. We, as +new-chums, are speedily surrounded by a group anxious to make our +acquaintance, and are eagerly questioned as to our intentions. + +Several persons present are acquainted with Old Colonial, and when it is +known that we are going to join him, we are at once placed on the +footing of personal friends. Hospitality is offered, invitations to take +a drink at the bar are given us on all sides. We accept, for we are not +total abstainers--or sich!--and are in that condition when the foaming +tankard is an idea of supreme bliss. + +The hotel is larger and more pretentious than that at Riverhead. It is +better built, and has a second storey and a balcony above the verandah. +It is furnished, too, in a style that would do credit to Auckland--we +particularly noticing some capital cabinet-work in the beautiful wood of +the mottled kauri. + +And then we are treated to a dissertation on the wonderful advantages +and prospects of Helensville, some day to be a city and seaport, a +manufacturing centre and emporium of the vast trade of the great fertile +tracts of the Kaipara districts. We are assured that there is no place +in all New Zealand where it could be more advantageous to our future to +settle in than here. And so to supper, and finally to bed, to sleep, and +to dream of the wonders that shall be; to dream of cathedrals and +factories and theatres rising here, and supplanting the forest and scrub +around us; to dream of splendid streets along the banks of the Kaipara, +but streets which ever end in rocky wooded gullies, down which we plunge +incessantly, behind a rushing nightmare that is driven either by a demon +or by Dandy Jack. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 3: A railway across this portage was opened for traffic in +1876. It has since been continued from Riverhead to Auckland, and is +now--1882--being pushed forward to the north, from Helensville on to +Whangarei.] + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +IN THE KAIPARA. + + +The next morning after our arrival at Helensville, we go down to the +wharf, close behind the hotel, and embark on board the steamer _Lily_. +This vessel is the only regular means of communication, at present, with +the young settlements lying round the Kaipara. She is a much larger +craft than the _Gemini_, but she is of the same ancient and ruinous +character. One would have thought that, on these new waters, such craft +as there were must necessarily be new also.[4] Such does not appear to +be the case, however, for the steam service on the Waitemata and the +Kaipara is conducted by very second-hand old rattle-traps. Where they +were worn out I know not. Bad as they are, they are considered a local +improvement, for, until quite recently, settlers had to depend on small +sailing-boats, that plied very irregularly. + +The Kaipara is a name applied rather indiscriminately to a river, a +harbour, and to a tract of country. The Kaipara river is that on which +Helensville stands. It waters an extensive valley, and, flowing +north-westerly, falls into the Kaipara Harbour, some miles below +Helensville. It is tidal to a short distance above the settlement. + +The harbour is a vast inlet of the sea, almost land-locked, since its +entrance, the Heads, is only about three or four miles wide. Opening +from the harbour are sundry great estuaries, resembling the sea-lochs of +Western Scotland. They are the Kaipara, the Hoteo, the Oruawharo, the +Otamatea, the Wairau, the Arapaoa, and the Wairoa. Several of these have +branches. Thus the Pahi, to which we are going, branches out of the +Arapaoa. They are fed by creeks--that is to say, by freshwater rivers, +as one would call them at home. The tidal estuaries are here called +rivers; and the freshwater streams, of whatever size, creeks. + +All these waters have the generic name of the Kaipara. The united +water-frontage is said to be over a thousand miles; and nearly two +million acres of land lying round are comprised within the so-called +Kaipara district. Ships of heavy tonnage can get up to Tokatoka on the +Wairoa, to Te Pahi and Te Otamatea, and within a short distance of +Helensville, these places being, respectively, from twenty-five to +thirty-five miles from the Heads. Smaller vessels can, of course, go +anywhere. The Wairoa creek is navigable for schooners and cutters for +more than eighty miles, as well as its tributaries, the Kaihu, Kopura, +Tauraroa, and Maungakahia. + +We have come into a district admirably adapted for pioneer settlement. +For nature has supplied water-ways in every direction, and thus the +first great difficulty in opening up a new country, the want of roads, +is obviated. Here, indeed, as we shall find, no one walks to his +township, or rides to see a neighbour, he jumps into his boat and rows +or sails wherever he wants to go. + +As the _Lily_ steams down the Kaipara, we get a better idea of the bush +than our previous day's coach-ride had given us. There is no more of the +brown and shaggy gum-land, but, instead of it, such glorious woods and +jungles and thickets of strange beautiful vegetation. Mile after mile it +is the same, the dense evergreen forest stretching away over the ranges +as far as one can see. Here it is the light bush, woods of young trees +that have grown over what were once the sites of Maori cultivation; +there it is the heavy bush, the real primeval forest. + +One great feature of the Kaipara tidal estuary is the quantity of +mangroves. Immense tracts are covered with water at high tide, and are +left bare at low tide. These mud-banks are covered with mangroves in +many places, forming great stretches of uniform thicket. The mangrove is +here a tree growing to a height of twenty or thirty feet, branching +thickly, and bearing a dark, luxuriant foliage. At high water, the +mangrove swamps present the appearance of thickets growing out of the +water. When the tide recedes, their gnarled and twisted stems are laid +bare, often covered with clinging oysters. Below, in the mud, are +boundless stores of pipi (cockles), and other shell-fish and eels. + +The channel of the river is broad and deep, but often, to save some +bend, the _Lily_ ploughs her way along natural lanes and arcades among +the mangroves. It is a novel experience to us to glide along the still +reaches among these fluviatile greenwoods. We are embosomed in a +submerged forest, whose trees are uniform in height and kind. All round +us, like a hedge, is the glossy green foliage, sometimes brushing our +boat on either side. And we scare up multitudes of water fowl, unused to +such invasion of their solitudes. Wild duck, teal, grey snipe, shags, +and many kinds that no one on board knows the names of, start from under +our very bows. Not gay plumaged birds, though, for the most part; only +now and then a pair of kingfishers, flashing green and orange as they +fly, or the purple beauty of a pukeko, scuttling away into the depths of +the swamp. + +By-and-by we emerge into the expanse of the harbour. Once out in it we +could almost imagine ourselves at sea, for, from the low deck of the +_Lily_, we only see the higher grounds and hill-tops round, looking like +islands in the distance, as we cannot descry the continuity of shore. +And now we have leisure to make closer acquaintance with the boat that +carries us. + +The _Lily_ is a queer craft. Though old and rickety, she gets through a +considerable amount of work, and is sufficiently seaworthy to fight a +squall, when that overtakes her in the harbour. Not that a gale is by +any means a light affair, in this wide stretch of water. When one is +blowing, as it sometimes does for two or three days at a time, the +_Lily_ lies snugly at anchor in some sheltered cove, and settlers have +to wait as patiently as may be for their mails or goods. She knows her +deficiencies, and will not face stormy weather, if she can help it. + +Three times a week she visits certain of the Kaipara settlements, +returning from them on alternate days. The arrangement is such that each +township gets--or is supposed to get--one weekly visit from her. She is +a boat with a character, or without it, which means about the same thing +in the present instance. She has also a skipper, who is something of a +character in his way. + +The Pirate, or Pirate Tom, as he is indifferently called, is a gentleman +of some importance locally, for he is the channel of communication +between the Kaipara settlers and the outside world. He is a man of +ferocious aspect, black-bearded to the eyes, taciturn, and rough in +demeanour. In his hot youth, he is credited with having borne his part +in certain questionable proceedings in the South Sea, and hence his +appellation. + +Freights run very high on the _Lily_, and it is by no means certain how +far the Pirate may be concerned in keeping them so. He is apt to be +captious, too, as regards the transit of cargo, and will refuse to do +business if it is his whim, or if any particular individual happen to +offend him; for he is lord paramount over the river traffic, and well +does he know how to turn that to his own advantage. Apparently, he +considers that he does you a personal favour if he carries you or your +goods, and you have to keep on his good books, lest he should not +condescend to do either. + +Besides the playful way in which he manipulates the commerce of the +district, Pirate Tom has another mode in which he adds to his gains. At +some of the river townships and stations there is no hotel, or store, +where liquor can be obtained. The only immediate facility that settlers +and bushmen at such places have for procuring it, is such as is afforded +by the boat. The Pirate is always ready to dispense the vile compounds +he call spirits to all comers--sixpence per drink being his price, as it +is the established tariff of the colony. It is held to be manners to ask +him to partake himself, when any one desires to put away a nobbler; and +the Pirate, being an ardent disciple of Bacchus, was never yet known to +refuse any such invitation. He also sells, at seven shillings a bottle, +the most atrocious rum, brandy, or "square" gin. + +To assist him in the management of his craft, the Pirate has under him +an engineer and a Dutch lad. The former of these has, of course, his +special duties; the latter is cook and steward, sailor, landing-agent, +and general utility man. He goes by the name of "The Crew." To beguile +the tedium and monotony of constant voyaging, "The Crew" is wont to +exercise his mind by conversation with such passengers as there may be. +He is of a very inquiring disposition, and asks leading questions of a +very personal nature. Seeing that I am a new-chum, he begins to ask me +my name, age, birthplace, who my parents were, where I formerly lived, +what I did, what my cousins and aunts are, their names, and all about +them, and so on, a series of interminable catechetical questions on +subjects that, one would think, could not possibly have any interest for +him. This would be gross impertinence, were it not that "The Crew" is +perfectly unconscious of giving any offence. He only asks for +information, like Rosa Dartle; and this questioning is his idea of +polite sociability. + +Among the points of interest about the _Lily_, the most noticeable are +the engines with which she is supplied. These are fearfully and +wonderfully contrived. How such rusty, battered, old-fashioned, +rough-and-ready machinery can be got to work at all, it is hard to say; +but it does. Of course the engines are continually breaking down, or +bursting, or doing something or other offensive. But whatever may +happen, the Pirate and his two aids consider themselves equal to the +emergency, and make shift to tinker up the mishap somehow. Such unlooked +for examples of misapplied force are constantly occurring, the +consequence being that repairs are as often called for. Thus it is that +the engines present a very extraordinary and uncommon appearance. Report +has, perhaps, added somewhat to the truth, but numerous legends are +current in the Kaipara about the _Lily_, her engines, and her captain. + +These amateur artificers are not in the least particular as to the +materials they use for effecting their repairs, nor are they given to +considering the relative differences of the metals. On one occasion, +rust had eaten a hole through the boiler, and leakage ensued. Promptly +they set to work, and soldered the lid of a biscuit-tin over the weak +place. Then the boat went on as usual. + +Once again, so it is said, something or other gave way--some screw, or +cock, or lever failed to act. The boat became unmanageable, could not be +stopped, or slowed, or done anything with. In short, she ran away. But +Pirate Tom was not to be imposed on by any such feeble tricks. He +immediately steered the _Lily_ slap into the nearest bank and tied her +up to a tree. Then the three went on shore, with a bottle of rum and a +pack of cards, and sat down at a respectful distance to await the +progress of events, and to enjoy a game of cut-throat euchre. + +The engineer bet Pirate Tom a note--colonial for a sovereign--that the +engines would blow up, and the latter laid on the chance that the rebel +craft would spend herself kicking at the bank. After churning up the +mud, plunging at the bank, and straining at her tether for an hour or +so, the _Lily_ quieted down, all her steam having worked off. So the +Pirate won and pocketed the engineer's note; and then the party +adjourned on board again, to resume their ordinary avocation of +tinkering up. + +In the log of the _Lily_ there is supposed to be an entry, which would +seem to indicate that the Pirate is not invariably so lucky as on the +last-mentioned occasion. It is his rule never to spend any more money on +repairs than what cannot possibly be avoided. There was an unsafe +steam-pipe, which might easily have been replaced at a trifling cost; +but, of course, the Pirate would spend nothing on it, and relied on his +own usual resources. One day the steam-pipe burst, when a number of +passengers were on board, and a woman got her legs scalded. After that, +the Pirate found it absolutely necessary to get a new steam pipe; and +was, besides, heavily mulcted in an action brought against him by the +injured lady. The entry referred to probably runs like this:-- + + L s. d. + To a new steam-pipe 0 10 0 + To fine and costs 3 12 6 + To damages awarded to Mrs. ---- by the Court 5 0 0 + To doctor's fees for attendance on Mrs. ---- 4 0 0 + +On the whole, Pirate Tom did not take much by his economy on that +occasion. But the lesson was not of any lasting use. He will go on in +his old way, and will take his chance of accidents. + +The defects of the _Lily_ do not cause us any annoyance, on this +occasion of our first voyage aboard of her. She is on her best +behaviour, for a wonder, and neither breaks down, nor bursts up, nor +runs away. We steam over a great stretch of the harbour, noticing here +that strange effect, when the distant land seems to be lifted above the +horizon, and to have a belt of sky between it and the water. + +Then we pass into river after river, proceeding up each some miles, to +the townships, or stations, where we have to call, then descending into +the harbour again, only to go on to the entrance of yet another river. +The scenery is very varied, and there is much in it to attract our +regard. Sometimes we pass below lofty bluffs, by wild rocky shores and +islets, sometimes along great stretches of mud-bank or mangrove swamp. + +The land on all sides is a primitive wilderness for the most part. Range +after range sweeps and rolls away, while ravines and gullies and basins +open upon the rivers, with tumbling creeks or graceful cascades pouring +through them. One might suppose that some giant of yore had ploughed out +this country and left it. A newly-ploughed field must seem, to an ant's +vision, something like the contour of this to ours. + +The land is richly wooded. Here and there we see the heavy bush, mammoth +trees soaring up, overhung with creepers and ferns; but the heavy bush +is chiefly at some distance from the waterside. What we see most of here +is the light bush; dense thickets of shrubs, and smaller trees, +resembling our remembrance of the denes and copses of England, or Epping +and the New Forest. + +To us new-chums it seems absurd to call this bush "light," but we can +see that it is so by comparison with the primeval forest, where the +tree-trunks run from ten to forty feet in girth. Once upon a time, when +they numbered millions, the Maoris inhabited these shores pretty +thickly. They preferred to be near the water, as settlers do now, for +the same reason of convenience in communication, and also because fish +was a chief article of their diet. All the land near the rivers has been +at some time under their cultivation, and the light bush has grown up +upon it since. + +So late as fifty years ago, the Ngatewhatua tribe, who were lords of the +Kaipara, were very numerous; but were then nearly exterminated in a war +with the Ngapuhi of the north. Still, numerous as they may have been +then, they could not have held the immense tracts here under +cultivation. That must date from a more remote period. But the places +where their villages stood, in the early part of this century, are now +buried under such a wealth of scrub and shrubbery, as to show very +clearly how rich is the soil and how fruitful the climate. + +We see at last what we have long been looking for, hitherto to no +purpose, namely, Maoris and their habitations. Brown, gypsey-like people +they appear in the distance, wearing ordinary clothes like Europeans, +only dirty and ragged usually. Here and there we pass a cluster of their +whares, low down near the beach--brown huts of thatch-like appearance, +for they are made of raupo grass. Some of them are very neat, with +carved and painted doors and fronts. Near them is usually some fenced-in +cultivation, and possibly a rough-grassed clearing, on which may be a +few cattle or horses. There are always pigs and dogs visible, and brown +naked children disporting themselves on the beach, where canoes are +drawn up, fishing nets spread out, and a scaffolding erected to dry +shark-meat upon. + +Few and far between are these evidences of the native race, and few and +far between, also, are evidences of the new nation that is supplanting +it. Frere, the statesman, speaking of Spain, said--he loved it because +God had so much land there in His own holding. If he could say that of +Spain's bare sierras and bleak barrancas, what would he not have said of +this land, whose splendid woods and forests clothe the hills and fill +the glens with verdure. + +Here and there we lie off some settler's station, a white wooden +homestead, perhaps with a few outbuildings beside it, perhaps alone; +round it the pastures won by the axe and the fire, a mere bite out of +the boundless woods behind. At such places "The Crew" paddles ashore in +the dingey, or possibly a boat comes off to us, bearing two or three +bushmen, who, may be, think that the opportunity for getting a nobbler +ought not to be suffered to pass by. + +We have three or four townships to call at, places where the Government +has set aside a certain tract of land for a future town. A township site +is cut up--on paper--into allotments, which are sold, or kept in the +Land Office until wanted. From what we see of the Kaipara towns, they +are very much in embryo as yet. Te Otamatea, for instance, is a single +house and nothing more. This is our ideal of a bush settlement; it is as +it should be--not too much humanity and crowd. The house, a rambling, +wooden building, is of a good size though, being an hotel and store. +Round it are several hundred acres of grass. Sometimes it is very +festive, for a large Maori kainga is not far off; and at Te Otamatea a +race-course has been made, where the annual races of the Kaipara +districts are held. + +Altogether, we like Te Otamatea, with its beautiful situation and lovely +views, better than Port Albert. This is a sort of bloated Manchester or +Birmingham of the district. No less than six or seven houses are +visible close together. If you count barns and byres, and such more +distant houses as are visible from the steamer's deck, there must be +over a dozen. It is horridly populous. Moreover, one sees here, so +strongly marked, that uncouth rawness that attends incipient +civilization. Nature has been cleared away to make room for the art of +man, and art has not yet got beyond the inchoate unloveliness of bare +utilitarianism. The beautiful woods have given place to a charred, +stumpy, muddy waste, on which stand the gaunt, new frame-houses. +Gardens, orchards, cornfields, and meadows are things to come; until +they do the natural beauty of the place is killed and insulted. But what +have we to do with sentimental rubbish? This is Progress! Bless it! + +Of course we did not expect to get to our destination all in a minute, +for Te Pahi is more than forty miles from Helensville, in a straight +line. We started about five o'clock in the morning, but it is late in +the day before we get into the Arapaoa. By taking advantage of the +tides, the _Lily_ manages to accomplish ten knots an hour. But the going +in and out of different rivers, though we do not go far up any of them, +and the various stoppages, short though they be, make it late in the +afternoon before we sight Te Pahi. + +We are coming up the broad Arapaoa, and before us we suddenly see Te +Pahi, a vision of loveliness, "our" township, as we are already calling +it. A high, wooded bluff, the termination of a hill-range behind, rushes +out into the tranquil, gleaming water. Round the base of the bluff, on a +little flat between it and the white shingly beach, are the houses of +the settlement. Four families live here at this time; and besides their +abodes, there are a row of three cottages, called immigrant barracks, a +boatbuilder's workshop, and an assembly hall. The neatest, fairest, +best, and to-be-the-most-progressive of all the Kaipara townships. We +say this "as shouldn't;" but it is so. + +The broad, lake-like expanse of water over which we are moving--four +miles across from shore to shore--parts before Te Pahi. It stretches +away to the left in a wide reach, to form the Matakohe, out of which +opens the Paparoa, hidden from sight at this point. Before us, bearing +to the right, is the Pahi river. It is a vista of woodland scenery, +glorious in the rays of the declining sun. Its shores are steep, and +broken into numberless little bays and promontories, all clothed with +bush to the water's edge. Far up, the towering ranges close down and +terminate the view. + +On the left of our position the shore is not so high, and we can see a +good deal of grass, with the white homestead of a settler's station. +Beyond is what appears to be a chain of distant mountains. Looking to +the right an exclamation bursts from our lips, for there is the +loveliest view we have yet seen. + +A deep, semi-circular bay falls back from the river, bordered with a +belt of dazzling shingle. Beyond and round it rises a perfect +amphitheatre, filled with bush more sumptuous and varied than any we +have gazed upon all day. The range seems to rise in terraces, and just +one abrupt gap about the centre discloses the peak of a conical hill +behind. The whole is a perfect idyllic picture, not to be described in a +breath; for this is the showplace of the Kaipara. It is Te Puke Tapu, +famous in Maori history as the scene of a great battle. + +Beautiful as this place is, it would doubtless soon have been marred by +the pitiless axe and fire of the settler, but that it is sacred soil. +The Maoris will not enter it, and they prohibit Europeans from +transgressing within its boundaries. Nor will they sell the land, +although its superb fertility has induced some settlers to offer almost +fabulous prices. For, under those rich greenwoods, caressed and buried +in ferns, lie scattered the bony relics of the flower of Ngatewhatua +chivalry. + +So much and more a fellow-passenger tells us, while we gaze at the view, +inwardly wondering whether wandering artist will ever present this +glorious landscape now before us to people at home. But the story must +be reserved for another time, until we are able to do justice to it. + +At last the _Lily_ is lying right off the beach of Te Pahi township, and +her whistle is echoing among the woods on the ranges above, scaring the +shags, kingfishers, and rock-snipe on the oyster-beds and beaches. Very +speedily, two or three people appear at the township, and one of them +puts off in a boat to board us. + +To him we are shortly introduced by the Pirate, and handed over to his +care, as candidates for a berth in the immigrant barracks. We discuss a +nobbler, which is at once a farewell one with Pirate Tom, "The Crew," +and the rest of our fellow-passengers, and an introductory ceremony with +our new acquaintance, "The Mayor." + +A merry, athletic, thoroughly healthy and hearty Englishman is our +friend, the Mayor, always in a hurry and bustle of business, for his +avocations are startlingly numerous. He is the oldest inhabitant of the +township, and was called the Mayor when he dwelt there solitary, a few +years ago. Now he is postmaster, storekeeper, justiciary, +acting-parson, constabulary, board of works, tax-gatherer, customs +officer, farmer, dealer in everything, town clerk, lawyer, doctor, and, +perhaps, a score of things beside, as they reckon such in Te Pahi. + +The Mayor hurries us and our traps ashore in his boat, and deposits us +on the beach. Then he hastens back to the steamer, bidding us wait +there, as "he'll be back to fix us before we can have time to wink." +Half a dozen men and boys--the entire population--stand at a little +distance, regarding us shyly, but inquisitively, with pocketed hands. +Some young children are also apparent. + +As we stand gazing about us, and wondering how to make acquaintance with +the group, a little girl comes running up to us. It is always the +superior sex, you see, even in the bush, that make the first advances. +She offers us peaches, the little bright-eyed, sunny-faced thing; and +readily submits to be kissed; indeed, appears to expect it. Then she +prattles away to us in right merry fashion. + +The little incident breaks the ice. The group of men come forward and +enter into conversation. Perhaps a trifle constrained at first--for +dwellers in the bush necessarily lose the readiness of people more +accustomed to society--they show themselves anxious enough to be +hospitable and welcoming. They are eager to know who we are, naturally, +what we are going to do, and so forth. When it comes out that we have +advented to join Old Colonial, we are admitted as chums at once, and +formally accepted as free citizens of the soon-to-be prosperous and +thriving town of Te Pahi. + +By-and-by the Mayor gets back; and the _Lily_ steams off again on her +way to Matakohe, where she will anchor for the night, returning to +Helensville next day. Old Colonial, it seems, is away up the river +somewhere, but is expected at the township that night, as he knows that +the steamer is due, and that we were likely to come by it. + +And now what are we to do? Go to the immigrant barracks, we suppose, +since they are expressly designed for the accommodation of such +new-chums as ourselves. Barracks be hanged! Is it likely that we are to +be allowed to go there while the Mayor has a comfortable house in which +to receive guests? Not likely! Why, others of the citizens are intent on +hospitality as well, and any of the four homes of the place may be ours +for the present, if we will. + +But the Mayor is not going to be choused out of his guests; don't you +believe it! What is he Mayor and boss of the township for, he would like +to know, if not to look after new-chums? Besides, on his own sole +responsibility, he has turned the immigrant barracks into a warehouse +for produce, since no immigrants ever seemed to be coming to occupy +them. So, he is in a measure bound to take possession of us, don't you +see? and, by Jove, he means to, what's more! + +Then we walk along to the Mayor's residence, and a comfortable, +well-furnished house it is, quite a surprise to us, who hardly expected +home-comforts in the bush. But then the Mayor is a thriving man, and has +a wife to look after him. + +A cheerful, amiable lady bids us welcome, with a heartiness as though +she were only too glad to see us, although it would appear as if her +hands were full enough of housework already, without the additional care +of looking after a couple of helpless, unready new-chums. But strangers +are so rare up here, that much must be made of them when they do come; +therefore, the fatted calf is killed, so to speak, and we are regaled in +handsome fashion. + +Later, after supper, there is a sudden arrival in the darkness of the +night. We hear a stamping on the verandah outside, and a loud, lusty, +half-remembered voice addressing the Mayor. + +"Have they come, I say? Where are they, then?" + +The door of the room we are sitting in bursts open, and a burly, bearded +man, rough and savage enough in outward appearance, sooth to say, +rushes in upon us. He seizes our hands in a grip that brings the tears +to our eyes, he shakes them up and down with vehemence, and while we are +trying to make out whether this Old Colonial can really and truly be our +sometime schoolfellow, he exclaims-- + +"Well, this _is_ good! I _am_ glad to see you! _Now_ we'll have a +splendid time! Now we'll _make_ this old place hum round! Oh, but this +is glorious!" + +Thus, and much more; and so, with the true, hearty good-fellowship of +the bush, are we welcomed to our future home. + + * * * * * + +And now that we have arrived at the scene of our future work, let this +chapter close. No need any longer to pursue our history as new-chums. In +the pages that follow we will resume the story at a further date, when +we have arrived at the full estate of settlers and colonists. Such +thread of narrative as these sketches possess shall henceforth be +unwound off another reel. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 4: It must be remembered that this is ten or twelve years ago +though it holds good down to 1876. Since the railway was made more +colonists have come into the district, and two fine new steamers now ply +on the Kaipara waters.] + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +OUR SHANTY. + + +Several years ago now, we bought our land from the Maoris, and settled +down here upon the Pahi. Necessarily, our first proceeding was to +construct a habitation. We might have employed the carpenter and +boat-builder, who resides at the township, to put up a good and +well-made frame-house for us, for a price of a hundred pounds or +upwards. But we had entire confidence in our own abilities, and besides, +there was something enticing in the idea of building our future home +with the actual labour of our own hands. + +Moreover, there was another reason, possibly of chief importance: we +could not afford to pay for a house. After paying for our land, paying +for our farm-stock, and calculating our resources for meeting the +current expenses of the first year or two, we found there was but slight +margin for anything else; therefore we decided to build a shanty +ourselves. Meantime, we were camped on our new estate in a manner more +picturesque than comfortable. A rude construction of poles covered with +an old tarpaulin sufficed us. It was summer weather, and this was quite +good enough for a beginning. From step to step, that is the way to +progress, so we said. First the tent or whare, temporarily for a few +weeks; then the shanty, for a year or two; then, as things got well with +us, a well-finished frame-house; finally, a palace, a castle in the air, +or anything you like. + +There are shanties and shanties. It is necessary to explain. Primarily, +in its Canadian and original sense, the term means a log-house--a hut +made of rough squared logs, built up upon each other. Such log-huts are +not common in this country, though they may be seen here and there. The +mild climate does not require such a style of building. The labour of +cutting and squaring logs for the purpose is great. The native whare of +thatch is quickly and easily raised, serves all requirements, and lasts +for years. In most parts hitherto settled, water-communication places +the settler within reach of a saw-mill, where he can obtain boards and +so on at very moderate cost. A shanty here, is a name applied to almost +any kind of nondescript erection, which would not come under the +designation of whare, or be honoured by the ambitious title of house. +Rough edifices of planking are the common form. + +We went up to Tokatoka on the Wairoa, and there we purchased enough sawn +timber for our purpose, for about twelve or fifteen pounds. We hired a +big punt, and fetched this stuff down to our place, a distance of some +forty miles or so by water. Then we set to work at building. + +The site we selected was an ambitious one; too much so, as we were +afterwards to discover. From the first Old Colonial objected to it. It +was too far from the river, he said, and would necessitate such an +amount of "humping." Bosh about humping! returned the majority. It was +only a temporary affair; in a year or two we should be having a regular +frame-house. Old Colonial gave way, for he perceived that, as our +acknowledged boss, he would have but little of the humping to do +himself. And the chosen site was central for the first proposed +clearings of our future farm. + +The selected spot was a rising ground in the centre of a broad basin, +nearly a mile across. Steep ranges surround this basin, and the whole +was then covered with light bush. Half a mile in front is a mangrove +swamp, beyond which flows the river--the mangroves filling up a space +that without them would have been an open bay. The prospect in this +direction is bounded by the forest-clothed ranges on the opposite side +of the river, which is here about a mile in breadth. The land within the +basin is nothing like level, and English farmers might be frightened at +its ruggedness. To colonial eyes, however, it seems all that could be +desired. + +Knolls and terraces gradually lead up to the ranges, which sweep away to +run together into a high hill called Marahemo, about three miles behind +us. The little eminence, on which stands the shanty, slopes down on the +left to a flat, where originally flax and rushes did most abound. +Through this flat a small creek has channelled a number of little ponds +and branches on its way to the river beyond. + +On the right the bank is steeper, and upon it stand a number of +cabbage-tree palms. Down below is a little rocky, rugged gully, with a +brawling stream rushing through it. Just abreast of the shanty this +stream forms a cascade, tumbling into a pool that beyond is still and +clear and gravelly. It is a most romantically beautiful spot, shaded and +shut in completely by fern-covered rocks and overhanging trees. This is +our lavatory. Here we bathe, wash our shirts, and draw our supplies of +water. This creek flows down through the mangrove swamp to the river; +and, at high-water, we can bring our boats up its channel to a point +about a quarter of a mile below the shanty. + +The site of the shanty has its advantages; but it has that one serious +drawback foreseen by Old Colonial. Somehow or other, year after year has +flown by, and still we have not got that frame-house we promised +ourselves. It is not for want of means, or because we have not been +quite so rapidly successful as we anticipated. Of course not! Away with +such base insinuations! But we have never any time to see about it, and +are grown so used to the shanty that we do not seem to hanker after +anything more commodious. So all these years, we have had to hump on our +backs and shoulders every blessed thing that we have imported or +exported, from the shanty to the water, or the contrary--sacks of flour, +sugar, and salt, grindstones, cheeses, meat, furniture. Oh, misery! how +our backs have ached as we have toiled up to our glorious site, while +Old Colonial laughed and jeered, as his unchristian manner is. + +Our work began with the timbers of the shanty itself, and with the heavy +material for the stockyard. But humping was then a novelty, and we +regarded it as a labour of love. Now we know better, and, when we do get +that frame-house, we are going to have it just as near to the +landing-place as we can possibly stick it. You may bet your pile on +that! + +Of course, in building the shanty, we employed the usual fashion +prevalent in the colony. Because, when we set to work we said we were +going to build a proper frame-house, _not_ a shanty. That is a name for +our habitation, which has since grown up into usage. We were none of us +practised carpenters; but what did that matter? We knew how to use our +hands; and had so often seen houses built that we knew precisely how to +do it. + +First of all, then, are the piles. These are of puriri wood, tough, +heavy, and durable. They are rough-split sections of the great logs, +some two feet thick, with squarely-sawn ends. They are fixed in the +ground two or three feet apart, so as to bring their flat-sawn tops upon +a uniform level. The irregularities of the ground are thus provided +against, while a suitable foundation is laid. + +The next process is to build a scaffolding, or skeleton frame, of +scantling and quartering. When that has been done, the floor is planked +over, the sides weather-boarded, doors, windows, and partitions being +put in according to the design of the architect. Lastly, the roof is +shingled, that is, covered with what our chum, O'Gaygun, calls "wooden +slates." + +Our shanty is thirty feet long by ten in width. The sides are seven feet +high, and the ridge-pole is double that height from the floor. There are +a door and two windows, the latter having been bought at the township. +There is a partition across the shanty, two rooms having originally been +intended; but as this partition has a doorway without a door, and is +only the height of the sides, being open above, the original intention +in raising it has been lost, and it now merely serves for a convenient +rack. There is no verandah on the outside of the shanty, for we regarded +that as a waste of material and labour. + +The fireplace is an important part of the shanty. Ten feet of the side +opposite the door was left open, not boarded up. Outside of this a sort +of supplementary chamber, ten feet square, was boarded up from the +ground. The roof of this little outroom slopes away _from_ that of the +rest of the shanty, and at its highest point a long narrow slit is left +open for a chimney. There is no flooring to this chamber, the ground +being covered with stones well pounded down. Its level is necessarily +sunk a little below that of the shanty floor, which is raised on the +piles, so the edge of the flooring forms a bench to sit on in front of +the fire. The fire used simply to be built up on the stones, in the +middle of this chimney-place; but, after a year or two, we imported an +American stove, with its useful appliances, from Auckland. + +Our shanty is the habitation of some half-dozen of us, year out and year +in. There are in the district a good many settlers of the +middle-classes. Men of some education, who would be entitled to the +designation of "gentleman" in Europe. Of such sort are we. Some of us +are landowners, and some have no capital, being simply labourers. Which +is which does not matter. I shall not particularize, as each and all +have the same work to do, and live in exactly the same style. There is +brotherhood and equality among us, which is even extended to some who +would _not_ be called by that old-world title just alluded to, anywhere +at all. We do not recognize class distinctions here much. We take a man +as we find him; and if he is a good, hearty, honest fellow, that is +enough for us. + +A good many of us come from the classes in England among whom manual +labour is considered low and degrading. That is, unless it is undertaken +solely for amusement. Out here we are navvies, day-labourers, mechanics, +artisans, anything. At home, we should have to uphold the family +position by grinding as clerks on a miserable pittance, or by toiling in +some equally sedentary and dull routine of life. If we attempted to +work there as we work here, we should be scouted and cut by all our +friends. + +Out here we have our hardships, to be sure; we have got to learn what +roughing it really means. It is no child's play, that is certain. But +here, an industrious man is always getting nearer and nearer to a home +and a competence, won by his toil. Can every one in the old country, no +matter how industrious, say that of himself? Is it not too often the +poor-house, or the charity of friends, that is the only goal of +labouring-class and middle-class alike, in overcrowded Britain? Does +patient industry invariably lead to a better fortune for the declining +years in England? We know that it does here. + +This is enough for one digression, though. Be it understood, then, that +we are not horny-handed sons of toil by birth. We were once called +gentlemen, according to the prevailing notions of that caste at home. +Here, the very air has dissolved all those ancient prejudices, and much +better do we feel for the change. Only occasionally does some amusing +instance of the old humbug crop up. I may light upon some such example +before I lay down my pen. + +It is now some years since our shanty was built--seven or eight, I +suppose. The edifice certainly looks older. Not to put too fine a point +on it, one might candidly call it ruinous, rather than otherwise. This +is singular and surprising; we cannot account for it. Frame-houses in +this country ought to require no repairs for twenty years at least. That +is the received opinion. We dogmatically assert that the house we built +ourselves, with such infinite labour and trouble, is as good as any +other of its size and kind. Consequently, it will not want repairing for +twenty years. _But it does._ It looks as old as the hills, and seems to +be coming to pieces about us, though only eight years old. Nevertheless, +we will not forswear ourselves, we will _not_ repair our shanty till +twenty years are gone! + +As for allowing that there could be any fault in our workmanship, that +our inexperienced joinery can have been the cause of the shanty's +premature decay, that, even Old Colonial says, is ridiculous. No, the +wood was unseasoned; or, perhaps, it was over-seasoned. We admit so +much, but our handicraft was certainly not to blame. + +The imperfections of the shanty are many and grievous. The door and +windows have quarrelled desperately with their settings. On windy nights +we get no sleep, as every one is engaged trying to fasten and wedge them +into noiseless security. The door developed a most obstreperous and +noxious habit of being blown into the middle of the house during the +night, with much hideous clatter and clamour. We stopped that at last by +nailing it up altogether, and making a new entrance through the side of +the chimney-place. + +Then, each particular board in the sides of the shanty has somehow +warped itself out of place. We are thus enabled to view the lovely +scenery lying round the place from our bunks, without the trouble of +rising and going to the window. Old Colonial says that free ventilation +is one of the great blessings of life. He thinks that the chinks in our +walls are absolutely a provision of Nature, since, he says, we would +certainly be choked with smoke if there were none. + +Sometimes the cattle, feeding on the clearings round the shanty, come +and thrust their noses through the gaps in the boards, or stand and eye +us as we are taking our meals. The Saint says he has invited them to +breakfast with us, on the first of April next, by which time he expects +that the chinks will have gaped wide enough to permit of the passage of +cattle. + +Of course, the smoke of the fire will not go up the chimney as it ought, +but floats freely about the shanty. This is good for the bacon and hams, +when there are any, that depend from the rafters. It is also a wholesome +thing, says Old Colonial, and sweetens and preserves everything. "None +of your gassy, sooty coal-smoke, but the fragrant vapours of the burning +forest!" so he remarked one night, when we were all blinded and choked +by the volumes of smoke that rolled through the shanty. O'Gaygun is +often funny, but not always original. He says that the smoke floats +about our habitation because it never knows which hole it ought to go +out at! + +On rainy nights--and that is nearly every night during some three months +of the year--there is perpetual misery in the shanty. One hears some +choice varieties of rhetorical flowers of speech; there is a continual +shifting about of beds; and often unseemly scuffling for drier places. +O'Gaygun says that he loves to "astthronomise" when lying comfortably in +bed; but he adds, that, "a shower-bath is a quare place to sleep in." + +It will be surmised from this that our roof is leaky. All roofs are +that, you know, in a greater or lesser degree, only ours in a greater, +perhaps. Those shingles _will_ come off. We are sure we put them on +properly and securely. The nails must have been some inferior rotten +quality, doubtless. Loose shingles lie about all around the shanty. They +come in useful as plates, as our crockery is generally short. In fact, +O'Gaygun prefers them to the usual article, and always goes outside to +pick up a plate for any stranger who may happen to drop in to lunch. To +use his words, "They fall aff the shanty roof loike the laves aff the +tthrees!" + +Somehow or other all these things go unremedied. It would, of course, be +an admission that our work had been unsatisfactory, if we were to +earnestly set about repairing the shanty, and thereby formally allow +that it required such renovation. No one will dare to initiate such a +serious thing. Besides, it is no one man's particular business to begin +the work of mending; while we are always busy, and have acquired such an +amazing notion of the value of our time, that we consider the necessary +repairs would not be worth the time it would take us to effect them. + +Moreover, Old Colonial is a bush-philosopher, and delivers himself of +moral orations in the shanty of nights. His views on some subjects are +peculiar, and they are always hurled at our heads with the utmost scorn +and contempt for all who may differ from them. This is his theory on +repairing-- + +"We are pioneers; it is our special duty and purpose to make, to begin, +to originate. We inherit nothing; we are ourselves the commencement of a +future society, just as Adam and Eve were in the Garden of Eden. Our +whole time and labour must be given to the one purpose of hewing out +the new path. We cannot stop to repair our faults and failures. For _us_ +that would be a waste of energy and of time. It is for those who inherit +the commencement we have made to do that; not for us, the pioneers. They +will improve our beginnings; we must continue onward. _Never mend +anything_, except your manners, boys! Put up with discomforts and +hardships, as pioneers should!" + +The furniture and internal arrangements of our shanty are more simple in +construction than elegant in appearance. We go in for utility, and not +for show. As a central feature is the table. It is our pride and glory, +that table, for it was made in Auckland, and imported by us from +Helensville. It is the one piece of furniture we possess that displays +an art superior to our own. Solid, strong and large, made of stout kauri +wood, it has borne a great deal of rough usage, and is capable of +bearing a great deal more. + +Besides all the customary uses to which a table may be put, this article +of ours fulfils even another purpose. It comes in very handy sometimes +as a bedstead. I have known two men to sleep upon it on occasions; its +breadth being considerable. For a long time it went by the name of +O'Gaygun's four-poster, that gentleman having a predilection for +sleeping on it. He is a huge, bony Irishman, and somewhat restless in +his sleep. Accordingly, it was no unusual thing for him to roll off the +table in the night, and descend upon the floor with considerable uproar. +This was got over by inverting the table at night, and making him +recline on the inside of it, with the legs sticking up around him. He +does not like this position, though, for he says the rats run across him +all night. + +Chairs we have none, except two curious contrivances belonging to the +Saint and the Little'un. We use empty kegs and boxes, sawn logs set up +on end, and the sides of our bunks, when we sit at table. When at our +ease and our tobacco, we either recline in our bunks, or sit on the edge +of the floor opening into the chimney-place. + +The two curious contrivances alluded to are styled armchairs by their +manufacturers, and somewhat remarkable objects they are. The Saint's is +made out of the section of a cask set up on four legs. It possesses a +fifth leg, or outrigger at the back, and has cushions of flour-bags, +stuffed with turkey's feathers. The owner doubtless finds it to his +mind, but he has to guard against leaning to either side, or collapse is +always the consequence. + +The other armchair is the Little'un's. Now, this young gentleman, though +the most youthful of our party, is by no means the least. He is, in +fact, six feet six inches in height, and is of broad and muscular build. +His private seat is therefore of the ponderous kind. At first sight it +would seem to be of immense strength, since it is made of heavy stakes, +cut in the adjoining bush. These are abundantly jointed with bars and +bolts of the same solid and substantial kind; the seat and back being +composed of sacking. But, in spite of the apparent power displayed by +this fabrication, disastrous accidents are continually happening. The +Little'un has no inborn genius for joinery. + +Sometimes it has happened that, as we sat at a meal, a loud crack would +be heard, some part of his throne would give way, and the Little'un +would disappear from view. Shouts of laughter from the rest. Old +Colonial, in high delight, would proceed to show how cleverly the +Little'un had adapted his armchair to his exact weight; and how it was +unable to support the addition of the great load of victuals which that +individual had unthinkingly stowed away. The Little'un would arise +silent and perplexed; and, by-and-by, we would find him deeply pondering +over the manufacture of his scaffolding, and probably shaping another +small tree with his axe to add to it. + +The most important items of the shanty's plenishing are the bunks and +beds. The former are made in this way, having been constructed by the +carpenter at the township. A simple folding trestle at head and foot +supports two parallel bars. Across these is stretched and nailed stout +canvas. Each of us has one of these bedsteads, which are very convenient +in the limited dimensions of our shanty, for they can be folded and +stacked out of the way when necessary. + +The beds themselves are curiously fabricated. Old potato-sacks, +flour-bags, and the like have been utilized. The stuffing is of fern, +feathers, mounga, and sundry other matters. Each of us has two or more +blankets, which, I regret to say, are a trifle frowsy as a rule. +O'Gaygun's call for special remark. + +This descendant of Hibernian kings is content to undergo even greater +inconveniences than he necessarily need do, since he has determined to +make his fortune in the shortest possible space of time. Moreover, he +professes the profoundest contempt for luxury and even comfort. He holds +that almost anything civilized is an effeminacy, and out of place in the +bush, where he considers that life ought to be lived in a stern and +"natchral" way. He is intensely conservative in the primitive usages and +habits of the roughest pioneering times, and emphatically condemns any +innovations thereupon. He works with furious zeal and unflagging +energy, and saves all the money he earns, generally investing it in +gold-mine scrip, or something that rarely turns out well. + +In the matter of blankets and bedding, the spirit of O'Gaygun's economy +and self-sacrifice is apparent. His bedding is like that of all of us, +except that it is less bulky--O'Gaygun asserting that a soft bed is a +sin. His blankets have long been worn out; in fact, they are the mere +shreds and tatters of what once were blankets. Bunk he has none. It +would go against his principles to get one. If any of us is absent, +O'Gaygun borrows his bunk for the time. When all are present he contents +himself with the inverted table, his especial four-poster. + +To see this eccentric Milesian settling himself for the night is +invariably a mirthful spectacle, and, it may be added, that, no one of +us is more volubly humorous and laughter-loving than O'Gaygun himself. +Reclining on the sacks which he has spread out upon the table, he +proceeds to draw his tattered blankets carefully over his lengthy limbs. +Piece by piece he spreads the coverings. First one foot and then +another, then the waist, and so on, until at last he is entirely +covered. The process is troublesome, perhaps; but when it is finished +O'Gaygun lies as warm and comfortable as need be. Why should he go to +the expense of new blankets? + +Of course there is in the shanty a litter of cans, kegs, old +packing-cases, and the like, which come into use in various ways. Among +them are the remains of former state, in the shape of certain trunks, +portmanteaus, and boxes. These receptacles held our wardrobes, when we +possessed such things, and the sundry personals we brought with us from +England years ago, and imported up here. + +We have long got over the feeling that it is imperative to hoard up +clothes and things in boxes; in fact, we have no longer any clothes and +things that require such disposal. But in the bush everything must serve +some purpose or other; and so all these now disused trunks are turned to +use. One grand old imperial is now a brine-tub, within whose dank and +salt recesses masses of beef and pork are always kept stored ready for +use. Other cases hold sugar, salt, flour, and so on; a uniform case is +now our bread-basket; each has its proper purpose, and is accomplishing +its final destiny. There is a fine leather portmanteau, or what was once +such, now the residence of a colley bitch and her litter of pups. +Mildewed and battered as it is, it still seems to recall to mind faint +memories of English country-houses, carriages, valets, and other +outlandish and foreign absurdities. There must be magic in that old +valise, for, the other day, Dandy Jack was looking at the pups that +live in it, and remarked their kennel. A fragment of schoolboy Latin +came into his head, and, to our astonishment, he murmured, "_Sic transit +gloria mundi!_" + +To avoid the possibility of any mistakes arising from an admission just +made, I hereby beg to state that we do _not_ consider clothing as +entirely superfluous. But we no longer regard it from any artistic or +ornamental point of view; that would be to derogate from our character +as bushmen. We are not over-burdened with too large a choice of +clothing. Such as we have is pretty much held in common, and all that is +not in immediate use finds a place on the partition-rack, or the shelves +upon it. We are supposed to possess _another_ change of garments apiece, +but no one knows exactly how he stands in this matter, unless it be the +Little'un, whose superior amplitude of limb debars him from the fullest +exercise of communal rights. + +Our ordinary costume consists of flannel shirt and moleskin breeches, +boots, socks, leggings, belt, and hat. In chilly and wet weather we +sling a potato-sack, or some ancient apology for a coat, round our +shoulders. When we visit the township, or our married neighbours, we +clean ourselves as much as possible, and put on the best coat we can +find in the shanty. We do not entirely dispense with such things as +towels and handkerchiefs, though the use of them is limited, and +substitutes are employed. Razors, of course, were discarded long ago, +but some antique brushes, and a small piece of cracked looking-glass, +represent the toilette accessories of the shanty. + +Our custom is to wear our clothes just as long as they will hold +together, before we renew any garment by purchasing another of its kind +at the township store. There is no time for mending in the bush, so we +are often rather ragged. Washing is a nuisance, but we feel bound to go +through it sometimes; and very knowing laundrymen are we, up to every +dodge for economizing elbow-grease, and yet satisfactorily cleansing the +things. But we do not undertake this work too often. Old Colonial has +laid down a law upon the subject. He says-- + +"Frequent washing spoils clothes, and causes them to rot sooner. +Besides, it is unnecessary where there are no women about, and a loss of +time if it trenches on more important work." + +Dandy Jack is an exception to the common sumptuary habits of the bush. +In fact, he is an exceptional character altogether. Place him where you +will, and he always looks fit for a drawing-room. How he manages it, no +one knows. Many have tried to imitate him, but without success. They +have expended much money, and time, and thought, in the endeavour to +compete with our dandy chum, but have had, sooner or later, to give up +in despair, and return to tatters and grime like the common run of folk. +Dandy Jack always carries a small swag about with him from place to +place, wherever he may temporarily pitch his tent. If he rides, it is +behind his saddle; if he boats, it is beside him; if he walks, it is on +his back. Yet it is not only this that enables him to appear as he does. +Other people can carry swags as well as he. But Dandy Jack has a +peculiar genius which other persons lack. That must be it! + +There is one portion of our domicile that we are accustomed to speak of +with a certain fond and lingering reverence. This is THE LIBRARY. High +up in one corner, festooned with cobwebs, are a couple of shelves. Upon +them are a pile of tattered newspapers and periodicals, a row of greasy +volumes, mostly of the novel sort, one or two ancient account-books, and +the fragmentary relics of a desk containing pens, ink, and paper. Such +as it is, our library is more than every establishment like ours can +boast of. There is precious little time for reading or writing in the +bush. + +The smaller half of the shanty, divided from the rest and from the +chimney-place by the incomplete partition already spoken of, is termed +by us the dairy. It is not in any way separate from the rest of the +house, though, since we use it and sleep in it as part of the general +apartment. But here, arranged on shelves all round the walls, are tin +dishes and billies, a churn, a cheese-press, and the various +appurtenances of a dairy. Humble and primitive as are these +arrangements, we do yet contrive to turn out a fair amount of butter and +cheese. At such seasons as we have cows in milk, this makes a fair show +to our credit every week, in the ledger of the township storekeeper, our +good friend the Mayor. + +It will be readily understood that our table equipage is not of the best +or most sumptuous description. It fluctuates in extent a good deal from +time to time, and always presents the spectacle of pleasing variety. We +are never without appliances and substitutes of one kind or other; and +members of the society now and then add to the stock such items as they +severally deem desirable, or happen to pick up cheap "down the river." + +Experience has taught us that meat is meat still, although it may be +eaten direct out of frying-pan or stew-pot. It is just as good, better +we think, as when served up on Palissy ware or silver. Knives and forks +are distinctly a product of civilization; custom holds us to the use of +them. But what are a sheath-knife and a wooden skewer, if not +everything that is needed? + +Those ultra-conservatives among our number, those rigid adherents to the +most primitive bush-life, of course despise all the refinements of the +table. Plates, forks, and spoons are to them degeneracies,--things that +no noble bushman needs or requires. They scorn any leanings towards +luxury and ease. Give _them_ a life that is totally free from the petty +trammels and slavish conventionalities of the old world! + +At one time we were possessed of but a single plate, an iron one, which +had lost its enamel, and was half eaten through by rust; we had only one +fork, and that had only a prong and a half remaining. But we had our +cooking-pots and billies, our sheath-knives, wooden skewers, fingers, +and O'Gaygun's shingle-plates. What more could any one want? And if +there were not enough pannikins or mugs to hold our tea all round, there +were empty preserve-cans, gallipots, and oyster-shells! We were content +and happy. But this blissful state was to be rudely broken. + +One day, a member of our party had been down Helensville way. There had +been an auction of the effects of a settler, who was moving off to the +South Island. Our chum had not been able to resist the temptation, and +had invested all he was worth in an assortment of goods. It was night +when he returned, and we were all in the shanty. He came up from the +boat, staggering under the weight of a great kit full of crocks and +such-like. + +Of course, the excitement was great as we surveyed the heap of new +treasures we had acquired. Even O'Gaygun was enchanted for a moment, +till he remembered himself, and assumed the stern and savage bearing +befitting the leader of our conservatives. His scorn was withering. + +"F'what might this be?" he would ask, fingering contemptuously first one +thing and then another. + +"An' f'what do ye do wid it, at all?" he inquired, as article after +article was reviewed, affecting the airs of wonderment supposed to +belong to a child of nature. + +Presently his humour changed, and he passed into the declamatory stage. + +"'Tis a sinful exthravagance! a temptin' av Providence!" he exclaimed. +"Plates! an' faaks! an' dishes! an' sacers! did ivver anny wan see the +loike? F'what do ye expict nixt? Kid gloves to work in, maybe! That +ivver I'd see the day whan sich degrading emblems av the ould +superstitions of sassiety was brought into the bush! Ough!" + +So much and more the O'Gaygun. But there is a sequel to the incident. + +Some time after, when we had learnt to love and cherish these +acquisitions, the Little'un was one day detailed as hut-keeper. It so +happened that he had our entire stock of crockery to wash up, as we +generally work through the set before any one will act as scullery-maid. +The Little'un got through his task; he washed every plate and cup we had +got; but, not finding any towel or cloth handy, he disposed the things +on the stones in the chimney-place, round the stove to dry. There he +left them, and went off to chop firewood, forgetting to fasten the door. + +Directly the Little'un's back was turned, a wandering pig arrived on the +scene. Seeing the open door, he resolved to prospect a bit, and +accordingly entered the shanty. What followed can now never be precisely +known, but conjecture allows us to arrive at the probable truth. + +The pig's first discovery was a number of comical objects, whose purpose +he could not divine, stuck about among stones and gravel. He ruminated +over these awhile, and at last inquisitively snouted one dish that stood +alone, like a small monument. Down went the strange thing and smashed. +The pig thought this was singular, and was somewhat startled. Still, he +resolved to persevere in his investigations. He inserted his nose into a +long, hollow thing that lay there, but could not get it out of the jug +again. In his horror and fright at such an extraordinary accident, he +plunged round and round the place; and, as he went, things fell and +cracked and crashed under his feet in an awful and terrifying manner. At +last he hit the thing that covered his snout against something hard, and +it, too, broke. But a splinter wounded his nose, and made him squeal and +fairly scream with pain and fright. At last, executing one final +pirouette and gambado, while the strange things crunched and crackled at +every move of his, he rushed out through the door, oversetting a man who +was coming in with a bundle of firewood. + +It was a scene of woe when the rest of us arrived from work. Concern and +consternation sat on every brow, as the Little'un unfolded his tale, and +we surveyed the universal smash of our crockery. Only O'Gaygun showed +signs of levity. In stentorian tones he shouted:-- + +"A jedgment! a jedgment on ye, bhoys! The very bastes is sint to prache +aginst yer exthravagance an' lukshury! The pigs is tachin' ye as they +tached the howly St. Anthony av ould! O glory, glory! 'tis grand!" + +But his remarks were ill-timed. Conservatism was out of favour just +then, and the Liberals were in power. The wrath of the assembly was +turned upon this audacious prophet; and, excommunicated from the shanty, +it was very late before humanity compelled us to let him have his +supper. And I may mention that fresh pork chops were added to the bill +of fare that night. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +OUR HOME-LIFE. + + +Among the friends of colonists at home in Britain, among those who talk +most and know least of this land of the blest, I specify three classes. +First, there are the people who talk of "roughing it" with an air of +rapturous enjoyment, and a Micawber-like roll of the voice, as if that +were really something good, something both pleasant and praiseworthy in +itself. Again, there are those who shudder at the bare idea, and who +conceive it, perhaps, to be a good deal worse than it really is. Lastly, +there are some who are quite vacuous in the matter, either because the +term conveys no meaning to their minds, or because Nature has made them +indifferent to personal comfort and discomfort. + +Now, in the first place, roughing it is not a nice process. There is +nothing at all delightful or charming about it. Plainly, it is +suffering. Suffering of numberless discomforts and privations, slight +in themselves as a rule, though not invariably so, but certainly a +serious matter in the aggregate. Nor is there anything grand or glorious +in the prospect of roughing it. Merely in itself it does not add to a +man's good in any particular way. It has to be got through in order that +certain ends may be achieved. That is about the sum of it. + +On the other hand, there is nothing to daunt healthy young fellows in +the prospect of roughing it. Only those who are delicate, or who are of +sensitive nature, need turn back from the possibility of it. And it must +be remembered that, to succeed eventually in any path of life +whatsoever, some sort of hardship, toil, and self-sacrifice must be +undergone. + +Of course, you cannot carry the drawing-room with you into the bush. +That side of life, with much of the refinement belonging to it, is swept +completely out of your reach. And what is of more importance still, your +existence is apt to grow somewhat unintellectual. Yet these are matters +that are already remedying themselves. As comfort and competence are +gradually achieved, and as society becomes large, so do the higher +results of civilization follow. And as pioneering progresses into the +more advanced stages of improvement, so do the opportunities and +possibilities for mental work and culture become more generally and +readily appreciable. + +To us, when we first came out from England, the life here seemed utterly +delightful, because it was so fresh and novel. We were quite captivated +with it. Our existence was a perpetual holiday and picnic, to which the +various difficulties and discomforts that cropped up only seemed to add +more zest. But we soon got over that. We soon began to find that it did +not rain rosewater here. A rude picnic prolonged day after day, year +after year, soon lost its enchantment, and merged into something very +like suffering. We began to yearn after those flesh-pots of Egypt which +we had left behind us; and there were times when we have regretted that +we ever emigrated at all. + +Now we have settled down to a calm and placid contentment with our lot. +We begin to see what results are possible to us, and there are signs +that our chrysalis condition is finite after all, and that some reward +for our toil will be ours ere long. The days of our worst poverty and +difficulty lie behind us, and better things are in store. + +We have been thankful for one thing. Our society in this district is +limited; but it comprises persons of some small amount of cultivation +and intelligence. We appreciate this at its fullest, for most of us +have, at one time or other, had to work in other parts of the colony, +where our only associates were of the rudest and dullest mental +organization. We are kindred spirits, and are happy in our way, making +light of difficulties, laughing at hardships and privations, and mocking +at poverty and toil. By this means we believe that we enjoy to the +utmost all the good that there is in this life of ours, and that we +measurably lessen the struggles and troubles that have to be gone +through. + +And now to revert more particularly to our home life in the shanty. + +The insect world is a great feature in Northern New Zealand, both as to +variety, which is extensive, and as to quantity, which is illimitable. +Within our shanty there are certain species which make themselves felt, +smelt, or otherwise apparent to our annoyance, without taking into +consideration the hosts that, as far as we are concerned, are innocuous. + +St. Patrick is reported to have driven all the snakes out of Ireland; +and, according to O'Gaygun, he afterwards journeyed over here, and +performed the same service in these islands. The deed was done, says my +informant, in order that this Canaan of the South Sea might be made +ready for descendants of Hibernian kings, when the proper time should +come; and that time, he continues, was when loyal and true sons of Erin +should be seeking afar for a home, where the Land League would cease +from troubling; and the landlord be at rest! + +Well, we have no snakes, thanks to St. Patrick, but if that gentleman +had only continued and completed his work, so far as to have excluded +certain insect pests as well, we could have felt more beholden to him. +We have them both out of doors and indoors, but it is with the invaders +of our sanctuary that I have at present to deal. + +First, there is the mosquito. We have them here of all sorts and sizes. +Sometimes they come by twos and threes, and sometimes they come in +swarms. They are a deadly nuisance anyway, and a most obnoxious addition +to the inhabitants of our shanty. The peculiar delight of a mosquito is +to arrive just at the moment when you are falling off to sleep, properly +fatigued with your day's work. You hear a long, threatening boom, which +finally ends with a sharp jerk, like buzz-z-z-z-z-z-zup. Then you wait +in anxious expectancy for what you well know will come next. It does +come, a sharp prick on some part where you least expected it. You slap +angrily at the place, and hurt yourself, but not the mosquito. O no! he +is gone before you can satisfy your just vengeance, and he leaves a mark +of his visit that will worry you for days after. + +Wise people envelope themselves in gauze mosquito-bars, but we are not +wise, and we do not. Conceive the fury of O'Gaygun at such an +innovation, such pampering, effeminacy, luxury! Who would venture to +introduce a mosquito-bar into a community of which he is member? What +might not be expected from this most conservative of pioneers? Even Old +Colonial says it is better that we should "harden ourselves to it." But +occasionally, in the stilly watches of the night, I hear a hasty remark +from his corner of the shanty, which leads me to believe that, with all +the years of his mosquito experience, he is not wholly hardened yet. + +Then there is the sandfly, another enemy of our peace. This creature is +not so bad as the first, though. It is true his sting is sharp, and +always draws a drop of blood, but there is no after irritation. +Sometimes, when sandflies abound about us, we make them contribute to +our amusement in moments of leisure. Bets are made, or a pool is formed, +and we stretch out our closed fists together and wait. By-and-by a +sandfly settles on the back of some one's hand, and proceeds to browse. +Once his proboscis is buried in the skin, the hand is opened, and he is +caught, for he cannot withdraw his weapon from the now contracted skin. +Then the capturer pockets the stakes, and executes the bloodsucker. Such +is one of our simple pastimes. + +Another insect foe of ours is one not wholly unknown in other parts of +the world. It is the nimble flea. St. Patrick is not to blame for +leaving this reptile here. He is not indigenous. He was unknown to the +Maoris until the coming of the Pakeha; but he has naturalized himself +most thoroughly now. The "little stranger," as the natives playfully +term him, is to be found in abundance in every Maori whare. Excluded +with the greatest difficulty from the best appointed houses in the +colony, in the humbler residences of the bush, and in our shanty, for +example, his name is Legion. Why this should be so, we have never +troubled our heads to inquire; we simply accept the fact as it is. +Possibly our floor, that, in spite of a daily brooming and a weekly +sluicing, is ever well carpeted with dust and mud, is one source of +these pests. And, now I think of it, there is a nightly scuffling +underneath the boards, which leads to the conclusion that pigs, dogs, +and fowls, are harbouring among the piles beneath. + +Every night, before turning in, we are accustomed to shake whole +regiments of fleas out of our blankets. Not infrequently we sprinkle the +blankets with kerosene oil; and, sometimes, in hot weather find it +necessary to anoint our bodies all over with the same thing. That keeps +off the crawling plagues until we have time to get to sleep, and then +we do not care for them. But I think we really have got hardened to the +fleas. We feel the annoyance of them but little now. + +One of the chums, a harmless, peaceable fellow yclept "The Fiend"--I +know not for what particular reason--has lately invented a new game for +our evening's diversion. He calls it flea-loo. After supper it is our +usual custom to sit on the edge of the floor, where it abuts upon the +fireplace. That part of our domicile, it will be remembered, is paved +with a sort of gravel of loose stones, and, sooth to say, with a good +deal of _debris_ of every sort and kind. The stove stands in the middle. +As we sit there, the sensations in our legs remind us that fleas like +warmth too, and that the gravelly bottom of the chimney-place is a +favourite assembly-room of theirs. But they are of aspiring nature, and +this fact was known to the Fiend. Under his advice, each man plants a +stick upright in the gravel before him. Then we make a pool and await +the result. The fleas soon come out, and begin to crawl up the sticks; +and, by-and-by, some individual of the race reaches the top of the +stick. The owner of that stick takes the pool. Here is another gentle +and Arcadian sport. + +And now, with considerable trepidation, and with something verging +upon veritable awe, I approach a subject that I feel myself scarcely +competent to handle. Fraught with the deepest interest to every +new-chum, and a matter of no light concern to even the oldest colonist, +it is one that demands an abler and more facile pen than mine to do full +justice to it. Some one has boldly asserted that, throughout the +infinite treasure-house of Nature, every separate and single thing has +its particular and well-defined purpose. Without attempting to dispute a +proposition so emphatically and dogmatically brought forward, it will be +sufficient for me to say that men have asked in shuddering horror, and +must still continue to ask, what part in the economy of creation is the +sphere of duty or usefulness of that malignant thing we call the +KAURI-BUG.[5] + +We do not know whether this insect is known to naturalists or not. That +is a slight matter, and not particularly pertinent to the question of +its interest for us. We believe, however, that no naturalist has yet +been found of sufficiently ardent temperament, and of sufficiently hardy +nerves, to attempt to classify or examine this most infamous of bugs. + +Appearances are deceptive very often; they are so in this instance. +Nothing could look more innocent and inoffensive than the kauri-bug, yet +few insects rival it in crime. It is an oval shape, anything under and +up to the size of a crown piece. It is flat, black, hard, and shiny, and +resembles a cross between the English black-beetle and the woodlouse or +slater. It stinks. That is all it does, but it is enough. Look at it, +and it is harmless enough. But tread on it, touch it, disturb it never +so slightly, and instantly the whole surrounding atmosphere is permeated +with a stench more infernally and awfully horrible than anything else +this side of the Styx! + +The kauri-bug inhabits dead-wood of various kinds, but chiefly does it +love that of the tree from which it derives its name. It invades houses +built with open joints like ours in regiments and battalions, bringing +all its family and luggage with it. The best class of houses are here +built in a fashion styled bug-proof, but even they cannot wholly exclude +this fearful thing. It comes in hidden in the firewood, and once in the +house it stops there, since no one is courageous enough to turn it out. +It appears to be indifferent as to whether the house is new or old, +well-built or ruinous. If the structure is of kauri timber the kauri-bug +will be there, and it will put up with any other wood if kauri timber +is not available. It is one of the peculiar products indigenous to +Northern New Zealand, and it is the least attractive of all. + +Dandy Jack, who has been in North America, is my authority for stating +that the celebrated odour of the skunk is mild and refreshing, compared +to the unutterable loathsomeness of that of the kauri-bug. I can well +believe it. How well I remember one of my first nights in the bush! It +appears that one of these diabolical insects had got into my blankets. I +rolled over and crushed it in my sleep. Inured as I had been by +circumstances to bad smells, this conquered me. I awoke perspiring from +a frightful nightmare. I rushed from my bed, from the room, from the +house, to escape the hideous effluvium; and--well, darkness veiled the +rest! + +Nature has in this insect achieved the very acme and culmination of +repulsive villainy. Fortunately she has mitigated it in two ways. The +stench is volatile and soon disappears; while settler's noses get used +to it in a measure. Were it not for these merciful provisions, +colonization in this land would be an utter impossibility for people who +had olfactory nerves at all. The kauri-bug would have driven us back to +England long ago. + +As an instance of an earnest but mistaken striving after the true +colonial fertility of invention and readiness of resource, I put on +record the following. The Fiend once evolved from the obscurest depths +of his inner consciousness a truly fearful and alarming plan. In this +gentleman's somewhat feeble intellect there floats a sort of hazy +reverence for a mysterious force denominated by him "kimustry." And to +this occult power he appears to ascribe a magical potency, that recalls +memories of the "Arabian Nights." + +We conclude that, at some time or other, the Fiend had been told, or had +read, that a certain delightful perfume, _eau de millefleurs_ I think it +is called, was derived by chemical agency from sewage, or some equally +malodorous matter. He appears to have formed the idea that any +disgusting stink could be turned, by "kimustry," into a delicious +perfume; and, further, that the more horrible the original stink might +be, the more ravishingly delightful would be the perfume to be derived +from it. + +One night, when the parliament of our shanty was assembled in full +conclave, the Fiend enunciated his views. Seriously and circumstantially +he put forward his proposition. This was that we were to form ourselves +into a joint-stock company; that we were to cultivate and make +collections of kauri-bugs; that we were to find a "kimust" who could "do +the trick," and employ him; and that we were to introduce to the world, +and grow rich by, the sale of a sort of celestialized essence of +kauri-bugs. In proof of good faith, the Fiend produced a box full of +kauri-bugs that he had collected for experiment, and handed them among +the midst of us. + +Conceive our horror and consternation at this unnatural and appalling +proposal. Springing instantly to his feet, O'Gaygun demanded that the +Fiend be forthwith taken out and hung from the nearest tree. But the +Fiend saved his life by immediately withdrawing his proposition and his +bugs, humbly suing for mercy. It was then thought that our duty to +humanity would necessitate our sending the unhappy Fiend for +incarceration in the Whau Lunatic Asylum, where they were in want of +"subjects," as Old Colonial significantly remarked. That point is still +under debate. Meanwhile, the Fiend still lives, but is kept under strict +surveillance. + +There is another of our insect enemies which must have special mention, +and that is the Maori blow-fly. We have flies of many sorts, house-flies +and blue-bottles among them. The latter, the blue-bottles, get very big, +and have an increased propensity for multiplying themselves, and that in +their usual unpleasant manner. But over all the blue-bottles' +old-fashioned systems the Maori blow-fly soars supreme. It is a +colonizer with a vengeance. It does not go to the trouble of laying +eggs or nits; it carries its family about ready hatched. The blow-fly is +always ready, at a moment's notice, to deposit an incredible number of +lively, hungry maggots upon any desirable surface. + +The difficulty of keeping fresh or cooked meat, and various other +provisions, will be readily appreciated. The blow-fly will cause its +disagreeable offspring to take part in every meal. Maggots are showered +down on your very plate. A string of them may be deposited on the +mouthful on your fork. The blow-fly is not particular. If you have a +wound, cover it up, or the maggots will speedily be in it. The eyes of +cattle and sheep are often full of them. If blankets or clothes are hung +up to air in the sun, they will soon be white with living organisms; +though, for want of moisture, they cannot live more than a few minutes +in such a situation, luckily. There is little or nothing we can do +against these foes. We get used to them, and try to forget their +existence. We keep them out where possible. We salt our food, which they +do not like. But we are unable to keep them down, or fight with them. +Even argument with a blow-fly is inadmissible. + +We have spiders as big as walnuts, with great hairy legs two or three +inches long. We would rather encourage them, as they help to keep down +the flies, and they do no harm, though not pretty to look at. There is +said to be a poisonous spider in the country, but no one in the North +seems to know anything about it. We regard it as a myth. Other insects +we have in profusion, but none that affect us like those I have +specially spoken of. + +After all, we have no great cause for complaint. Some trivial annoyance +is the worst we have to suffer in this way. We have no scorpions, +snakes, poisonous centipedes, or any other vile thing of that sort. I +have told the worst of our indoor plagues. Rats and mice we have, of +course, as they swarm in the bush; but our dogs, and a cat or two, keep +the shanty fairly clear of them. + +Our commissariat is plentiful and varied enough. With slight exception +we are our own providers, living almost entirely on our own produce, as +farmers should. Sometimes the pressure of work leads to carelessness in +catering and cooking, and we are consequently reduced to short commons, +for which there is no sort of need. In the worst times of poverty we +should not starve. The river is always full of fish; and things must be +more than bad if one could not get credit for a sack of flour or +potatoes with the Mayor, or with some other storekeeper on the rivers. +And, after the first year, the garden ought to produce enough +vegetables, potatoes, kumera, taro, pumpkins, and maize, to keep the +family going, even if everything else failed them. + +Pig-meat, in its various forms, is our staple article of food. We breed +and fatten a large number of pigs on the clearings round the shanty. +These we butcher in batches of six or eight, as required, and turn into +salt pork, bacon, and ham. We have occasionally sent a cask or two of +pork, some flitches or hams, to market; but as a rule we consume our +pigs on the farm. Pig-meat is most reliable as a staple. One does not +tire of it so utterly as one does of either mutton or beef, if one of +these be the invariable daily food. + +Beef we rarely see in our shanty. The steers we breed are too valuable +to be used by ourselves; they have to go to market. Only occasionally we +find it necessary to slaughter some unmanageable rusher, a cow, or +bullock, and then we have beef, fresh and salted down. Mutton was just +as scarce for several years, as we could not afford to kill out of our +small flock; and mutton is not good to salt down. Now, we kill a sheep +every week, sometimes a couple, as the township will take the surplus +meat, and so it pays us. + +We keep a great number of turkeys on the clearings, as also a less +number of ducks and poultry, to diminish the crickets, caterpillars, and +other insect foes. These birds are now practically wild, and give us +something like sport to shoot them. There are hundreds of turkeys, as +they thrive amazingly, consequently we often have them at table. Eggs, +too, are plentiful enough, whenever any one takes the trouble to hunt up +some nests. + +As to wild game of any sort, we get little enough of that; for we cannot +spare time to go after it. Sometimes we may shoot some of the splendid +wild pigeons, some kakas, parrots, tuis, wild duck, teal, or the +acclimatized pheasants. Wild pig is nauseous eating, so that is not +sought after. + +Every now and then we go in for fish. There are schnapper, rock-cod, +mullet, mackerel, and herring, or species that answer to those, to be +had for very little trouble. There are also soles, which we catch on the +mud-banks and shallows at night, wading by torchlight, and spearing the +dazzled fish as they lie. When we make a great haul we salt, dry, or +smoke the capture for lasting use. The endless oyster-beds, and other +shell-fish, we rarely touch, they are not worth the time and trouble, we +consider. + +Tea is the invariable beverage at every meal, and almost the only one, +too. Milk is generally available in our shanty as a substitute, but +somehow we stick to the tea. We drink quarts and quarts of it every +day, boiling hot, and not too weak. Throughout New Zealand and all the +Australian colonies this excessive tea-drinking is the universal +practice. Even the aboriginal races have taken to it just as kindly. It +is such a good thirst-quencher, every one says, so cooling in warm +weather, and so warming in cold seasons. + +We had an earnest medico on a visit to us lately. He inveighs strongly +against tea-drinking, which he says is the curse of these countries. I +think he would preach a crusade against it if he dared; for, of course, +he would have to join issue with Good Templars, Sons of Temperance, and +all the fanatical anti-alcoholists. These zealous reformers are so +blindly infatuated with their hatred for alcohol, that tea seems to them +its natural antithesis, and they vaunt it as if it were a celestial +boon. And such people are a political power out here--worse luck! + +The doctor declares--"Tea-drinking is one of the most serious mistakes +of our age and race in these new countries. It produces, first of all, a +low form of chronic dyspepsia, whose effect is immediately perceived in +early decay of the teeth. It often seriously affects the great +organs--the liver, kidneys, stomach, and heart--predisposing them to +derangement, and aiding the progress of organic mischief in them, should +that arise from other causes. It affects the nerves, causing +irritability and debility in them. Nervous power becomes impaired, +reacting with evil effect upon the ganglionic centres and the brain. +Hence the mind must become insidiously affected also. I am quite sure +that the character of our colonists is being modified by their practice +of excessive tea-drinking, and I cannot believe that the change will be +for the better. I believe that we may trace to tea, gloominess, +misanthropy, loss of cheerfulness, a restless energy without fixity of +purpose, a sour temper, a morbid and abnormal simplicity, leading to +intellectual retrogression instead of progress, and to a tendency to +yield to superstitious fancies, with loss of control over reason and its +advancement. What will be the future of these young tea-drowned +nations?" + +Fortunately, we only understood a fraction of this tirade, yet we +trembled and shivered ever afterwards as we drank our tea. +Then the doctor showed us how to make sugar-beer, treacle-beer, +cabbage-tree-root-beer, honey-beer, peach-cider, corn-cider, and various +other drinks of a more or less unlicensed kind. So now we have usually +something else to quaff besides tea. Peaches we have in any quantity; +and the cider they make is capital stuff. Honey abounds in every hollow +tree; and the mead or metheglin we compound is a fine drink. + +Flour and meal we have to buy. By-and-by there will be a flour-mill at +the township, for already some of the more forward settlers near are +growing wheat. Maize we do not use ourselves, except as a green +vegetable. Some people grind it and use the meal for cakes, but we +principally turn it into pig-meat or fowl-flesh. + +Our garden department, though not always so well managed as it might be, +yet adds largely to our food supply. The principal crops are potatoes, +kumera (sweet potatoes), and pumpkins; good substantial food that will +keep, and, should we have a surplus, will sell. We don't bother with +green vegetables; they don't pay, we think, and boiled green maize-cobs +suffice us for that class of thing. But, in such seasons as it has +occurred to any one to go in for more extensive gardening, we rejoice in +a profusion of carrots, turnips, parsnips, onions, taro, beet-root, and +sundry other things. + +Fruit can hardly be looked on as a food; it is merely an ornamental +accessory to it, in our opinion. We are great fruit-consumers, but we +look on such trifles as only refreshers for odd moments, and not as +having anything to do with the serious business of eating. We have +pretty well all the fruits that are seen in English gardens, and besides +them we have quantities of various sorts of melons and peaches, also +specimens of oranges, lemons, shaddocks, grapes, loquats, quinces, +pomegranates, guavas, Cape gooseberries, figs, almonds, and some others. +We have even bananas, which are a success in most seasons. The +marvellous profusion and richness of our fruit-crops, leads to the +belief that industries connected with fruit-growing will eventually be +found to succeed best in the North. + +Of course, long practice in cooking has made us tolerably proficient in +the simpler processes of the art. Several of us are very fair all-round +cooks, but Old Colonial is supreme in this, as in most things. He is a +veritable Soyer of the bush. When he chooses to exert his skill he can +turn out the most wonderful dishes. Where he learnt, and how he learnt, +no one can tell; but he seems to be a perfect master of cookery in every +shape and form. + +In spite of the peculiarities of our table-service, we fare sumptuously +often enough, much more so than many people who would disdain to feed +without linen and dishes and plates, forks, spoons, and other things +that we hold in slight regard. Old Colonial's name has gone abroad +through the country. When any one of our neighbours goes in for the +luxury of a wife, Old Colonial is not infrequently called in to educate +her in culinary matters. He is a past master in endless wrinkles, +dodges, makeshifts, and substitutes of all sorts; and has, besides, an +unbounded faculty of invention that is highly satisfactory to our little +commonwealth. + +One hot and blazing Christmas-tide we invited all the married people, +who lived within anything like reasonable distance, to visit our +shanty--Bachelor's Hall, as the ladies termed it. Such an entirely novel +and unusual event as the visit of some of the gentler sex to our shanty +was an occasion of no light moment. Old Colonial determined to banquet +our visitors in the superbest possible style, and vast preparations were +at once undertaken. + +Two days before the expected arrival, all hands set to work in the +arduous and unavailing endeavour to render the shanty approximately +clean and respectable. Such a turn out as that was! Such an unlooked +for bringing to light of things that must be nameless! We broomed and we +scrubbed, we washed and we sluiced, we even tinkered and mended, we +cleaned and we swore, and made our lives temporarily miserable; and yet, +with all this, how grimy, and dirty, and mean, and wretched, that shanty +of ours would continue to look! + +Never had our household property been subjected to such a cleaning up as +that was. Gradually some order was introduced into the chaos, and at +last we began to think we should convey a favourable impression after +all. But our chief concern was in the matter of table equipage. + +One of us was sent over to the township, with orders to beg, borrow, or +steal, all the crockery and table-cutlery in the place. Another was +dispatched on horseback through the bush somewhere else, and on the same +errand, that something like proper table furniture might grace the +feast. Then our wardrobe underwent inspection. Some one had to go over +to the township and buy new shirts for all of us, with several pairs of +trousers, and other things. O'Gaygun stormed and wept at this outrage; +but our boss was firm for the proprieties, as he estimated them. The +worst of it was, we had to contemplate frightful expenditure. And more, +it was humiliating that our previous condition should be made known to +the Mayor, who, with his wife, were to be among our guests. But, what +matter? The Mayor is a good fellow, and a friend; and what can be too +great a sacrifice to make for England, Home, and Beauty!--especially the +last. + +We all had our tasks. There was the path between the shanty and the +landing-place to be put in proper condition; various muddy places in it +to be covered with fascines; a certain watercourse we were in the habit +of jumping to be newly-bridged, and so forth. Then there was the +catering. Two of us were out with guns, shooting turkeys, pheasants, +pigeons, fowls, and anything else that was eatable. Others were +butchering the fairest and fattest pig in our drove, and doing the same +by a lamb. Two were out on the river diligently fishing, or collecting +oysters and cockles. Some, too, were employed in the garden, picking +fruit, gathering vegetables, and so forth, and so on. + +All day and all night the stove was redhot, while a supplementary fire +blazed outside the shanty. Between them oscillated Old Colonial, pipe in +mouth, hirsute and unkempt, grim, grimy, and naked to the waist. His two +aids, the Saint and the Fiend, had a bad time of it. They were his +scullions, marmitons, turnspits, or whatever you like to call it. They +had to keep up the supplies of firewood, to prepare the fowls and fish, +and generally to do all the dirty work; and the way that Old Colonial +"bossed" them round was an edifying sight to see. + +The preparations were stupendous. Victuals enough had been laid in to +feed a regiment, and the variety of them was endless. But Old Colonial, +once having given way to the mania of extravagance, was determined to +lay under contribution every conceivable thing, and to turn out more +dishes than even an American palace hotel would put on its bill of +fare. + +Finally, it was discovered that the shanty was far too small a place for +our banquet. So, on the appointed morning we were up at sunrise, and, +from then till noon, we laboured at the construction of a bower; while +Old Colonial was busy with his hot meats and confections. The bower was +an open shed, running all along the shadiest side of the shanty and +beyond. It was a rude erection of rough poles, latticed and +thatched--Maori fashion--with fern-fronds and flax. Under it was _the_ +table, supplemented by another of loose boards on such supports as we +could fabricate; and round it planks resting on kegs and boxes made +sufficient seats. + +Hardly were our preparations finished when the first boat was descried, +coming through the mangroves from the river down below, and a parasol +was visible in the stern. Then there was a hasty stampede down to the +gully to wash; an agonized scuttle into the new shirts; and a hot and +anxious assumption of restful calm. And so we welcomed the guests as +they came. + +What a feast that was, and how it astonished everybody! And such a party +as our shanty had never witnessed before! For curiosity brought half a +dozen ladies--all there were in the district--and fully a score of +masculine friends honoured our establishment with their presence. + +It is not to be supposed, of course, that all our neighbours inhabit +rude shanties like ours. Some are further forward, or had more capital +at the start; and men do not bring wives into the bush until they can +manage to furnish forth a decently comfortable house for them. Our +married friends live in respectable comfort. Still, the ladies, living +in the bush, get to know its more primitive ways, though they may not +experience them themselves. So, our domestic arrangements, though made +the occasion for a great deal of banter and fun, were neither unexpected +nor novel to our lady visitors. But the banquet that was provided for +them made them open their eyes indeed. It was something altogether new +to the bush. Such a miracle of catering! such marvellous unheard of +cookery! It surpassed anything any one of them had ever seen before, +anywhere. + +The table was covered with white linen, borrowed at the township, and +all the equipage we could muster was displayed upon it. Plates, forks, +spoons, and knives, there were in plenty; but we had not been able to +collect enough dishes and bowls for the profusion of viands Old Colonial +had provided. Some parts of the service were therefore peculiar, and +caused much addition to the merriment. There was always such incongruity +between the excellence of the comestible and the barbaric quaintness of +the receptacle that happened to contain it. Soups in billies, turkeys +in milk-pans, salads in gourd-rinds, custards in cow-bells, jellies in +sardine-boxes, plum-pudding in a kerosene case, vegetables, fruits, and +cakes in kits of plaited flax; anything and everything was utilized that +possibly could be. + +High enthroned upon a pile of potato sacks, Old Colonial presided over +the feast he had created; while, as vice, sat O'Gaygun, his barbaric +conservatism laid aside for the nonce in favour of grace and gallantry. +What glorious fun we had! What a flow of wit beneath the august +influence of ladies' smiles! And we were cool in our ferny bower, out of +the strong hot sunshine. And in the intervals of eating and drinking, we +could look about us on the splendid perspective of bush and river, +across the clearings, where the air shimmered in the heat, where the +crickets whistled and hummed, and where the cattle were lazily lying +among the stumps. It was a magnificent picnic, so everybody declared. +There never was anything to match it in all New Zealand! + +I can fancy, that in days to come, when the full tide of civilization +has overtaken this fair country, some of those ladies will be sitting in +boudoirs and drawing-rooms talking to their children; and they will tell +them of the early pioneering days. And one of their best-remembered +stories will be that of the Christmas-time, when they were banqueted by +Old Colonial and his chums at our shanty in the bush. + +To a certain extent we are of musical tastes, and, though our time for +practice is limited to an occasional half-hour of an evening, we +consider ourselves no mean instrumentalists, and sometimes give public +performances, as will appear hereafter. We have two flutes, a clarionet, +a cornet, and a French horn, often supplemented by two violins and a +concertina. Old Colonial does not play, neither does O'Gaygun. They +fiercely decline to add to what they term the beastly uproar. + +If we have a failing, it is to be found in an inability to hang together +in our play, and an incapacity for comprehending the said fact. Set +either instrumentalist by himself, and he will manage to stumble through +a tune; but put the whole orchestra together, and the result usually +falls short of what should be harmony. The hornist is our feeblest +musician. He has not yet succeeded in eliciting more than two notes and +a half out of his instrument, and these he lets off in spasmodic puffs, +governed by a curious notion of the proper places for them to fit into +the general performance. The flutes are a little unsteady and +unreliable; the clarionet always squeaks in pathetic parts; and the +cornet imagines that loudness is the chief thing to be desired. + +There was a newly-married couple recently established a few miles away +up the river. Of course, they were received in the district with great +acclamation, when they first came up here, after being tied up in +Auckland. Bonfires blazed on the ranges, guns were fired, and a +procession of boats escorted theirs home. As a strictly bachelor +community, we felt some hesitation about going to call and congratulate +the couple. This was owing to our own shyness and uncouthness, you +understand, not to any disfavour with which we looked upon matrimony as +an abstract thing. For we were previously unacquainted with the bride. +However, some demon prompted us to give them a midnight serenade. + +By dint of tremendous practice, we had mastered, as we thought, those +three famous melodies, "Home, Sweet Home," "Juanita," and "God Save the +Queen." The orchestra was equal to _them_, anyhow, we considered. +Neither of our two unmusical associates cared to be left out of the +proposed excursion, so a drum was manufactured for Old Colonial, by +stretching a sheepskin over the open ends of a cask; O'Gaygun was found +incompetent to play on any other instrument but the ancient comb and +piece of paper of his happy youth. Then we started, rowing up the +river, and anchoring silently off the beach opposite our victim's +residence, one night soon after their arrival. + +The moon was at the full, throwing sombre shadows down from the woods +upon the gleaming water, and making the splendid scenery of the river +mysterious and romantic. The husband and wife were out on their +verandah, enjoying the calm beauty of the night, and sentimentalizing, +as newly-married couples will. + +Suddenly, from the river below them, rises the melancholy and discordant +clamour of our performance. Quickly, the voices of the night awake in +earnest protest against it. Roosting shags and waterfowl fly screaming +away. In the swamp a bittern booms; and strange wailing cries come from +the depths of the bush. On the farm dogs bark energetically, cattle +bellow, horses neigh, sheep bleat, pigs grunt, ducks quack, and turkeys +gobble. Frightful is the din that goes echoing among the woods. And then +the outraged bridegroom gets out his gun, and commences rapid +file-firing in our direction. + +But nothing daunts us, or makes us flinch from our fell purpose. +Perspiring from every pore, we labour manfully on to the bitter end. +Cornet and clarionet strive for the mastery, the flutes tootle along in +the rear, the violins screech and squeal, the horn brays with force and +fury, and Old Colonial pounds at his drum as if he were driving piles. +Not until the last notes of "God Save the Queen" have been duly murdered +do we cease; then, breathless and exhausted, we row down river on our +homeward way, rejoicing in the performance of a meritorious deed. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 5: A species of _Blatta_, or cockroach, called by +entomologists _Polyzosteria Novae Zealandiae_.] + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +OUR PIONEER FARM. + +I. + + +Of course, all farms are not the same, even in the North. Nevertheless, +there is a good deal of similarity in the work that has to be got +through at the outset. The modifications in it are various, consisting +in the character of the land, the amount of capital available, the +labour employed, and so forth. But, generally speaking, most settlers +must go through pretty much what we did before they get the wilderness +reclaimed into an orderly farm. + +People who commence with plenty of capital have naturally a great +advantage. They can employ more labourers, and get the first operations +over more quickly. But, more than that, they are not hampered by the +necessity of making a living as they go along. They can afford to wait +until the farm is in thorough working order before they expect any +returns from it. + +Not many of this class have settled in the North. When a man has large +capital, his chief idea is sheep or cattle. And he is not impressed with +the notion of making a home, but with the desire to make a great pot. +So, if he comes to New Zealand, he goes South as a general thing, and +leases a vast run of natural pasturage. In ten or twenty years he has +made his pile, and gives up farming altogether. Then he either goes +home, or settles down in one of our cities. + +We were circumstanced very differently from that. When we made up our +minds to work for ourselves, instead of acting as labourers to others, +we were not blessed with much capital. Our joint purse contained just +enough, as we calculated, and it did not contain more. But our notion +was to make ourselves a comfortable home, primarily, though, of course, +we had our golden dreams as well. + +The bulk of the land in the North Island belongs to the Maori tribes, +who sell tracts of it to Government or private individuals occasionally. +In the South Island all the waste land is the property of the Crown--a +nice little estate of about the size of England and Wales. Most of the +Kaipara district belonged to the Ngatewhatua tribe when we came on the +scene; and the early settlers bought their stations from them. + +We had our korero with the chiefs, and arranged to purchase a block, or +section of a block rather, on the Pahi. We selected our location--from +such a creek to such a creek, and back from the river as far as such and +such a range. We offered ten shillings an acre for it, the then +market-price. The chief said, "Kapai!" and so that was settled. + +Then we got up the Government surveyor for the district, and to it we +went with billhook and axe, theodolite and chain, fixing the boundaries +and dimensions of our slice of forest. Said the surveyor, after plotting +and planning and making a map, "There you are! Two thousand and +twenty-one acres, two roods and a half!" "Right," said we; and proceeded +to the next business. + +A Land Court was held by the Crown official at Helensville. Thither +proceed the Ngatewhatua chiefs, with the surveys and maps of the section +we had chosen. They make out their claim to the land, according to +established usage, and receive a Crown grant as a legal title. This is +then properly transferred to us, in lieu of our cheque. Various +documents are signed and registered, and we stand the proud possessors +of so much soil and timber; while the Maoris make tracks straight to the +hotel and store, with much rejoicing. + +Not that we paid in full at the time. Such a simple arrangement would +not have suited our pockets, any more than it would have suited the +Maori idea of a bargain. A part of the land was paid for and bought +outright, the rest was to be paid off in certain terms of years, or +sooner, if we liked. Meanwhile, we were to pay interest on the sums +remaining due, which was actually a sort of rent for the balance of the +estate. As a concession on their side, the Maoris gave us the right of +running cattle free over the unpaid-for acres. And as there were no +fences, of course, this really meant that we might run our cattle over +the whole country side, which was practically what we paid the interest +or rent for. Then we entered into possession, and built the shanty. But +observe what we had to do in the forthcoming years. We had to get a +living, first. We had to pay the annual sum agreed on as a sort of rent, +second. We had to provide for the purchase of implements, sundry +accessories, and stock, third. Lastly, we had to lay by to meet the +future large payments for the land, which would make us proprietors of +the whole of it, and, of course, annul the annual rent. + +Perhaps it will be better understood now why we live in a shanty, and +why the furniture of it is so unique in quality and restricted in +quantity. How we have got on so well is a marvel, and shows what hard +work will do in this country. A thousand pounds would have bought our +station outright. But we had not a thousand pounds among us, or anything +like it; and we had to reserve money to live on for the first year, to +buy our axes and spades and milk-pans, and to buy the nucleus of our +future herds and flocks and droves. We have done all we had to do, and +now we are beginning to see that our joint work during all these years +will eventually produce for us homes and comfort. + +It is a hard and difficult thing to make money without capital to start +with. It is as hard a thing to do in the colonies as it is at home, +though people at home are apt to think differently. And it is always the +early years of toil that are the worst. + +Money is like an apple-tree. At first it grows but slowly, and there is +no fruit. Then there come little scanty crops, increasing year by year, +until at length the tree attains maturity. Then there are full crops, +and you realize a handsome profit on your planting. + +Our station--or, as you may choose to term it, our estate, selection, +place, farm, location, homestead, or run--may be reckoned a choice bit +of land. + +The soil is not all of one character, it seldom is so on any one farm in +this country, but it is all good class. Most of it is a rich black +humus, resting on clay and mountain limestone. In configuration it is +of the roughest, like the country generally, being an abrupt succession +of ranges, gullies, and basins, in every variety of form and size. + +When we took possession, nearly every inch of the property was covered +with what is termed light bush. It might have been a slice out of the +New Forest. The light bush is just as dense a wood of small trees, +twenty to fifty feet in height, shrubs, creepers and undergrowth, as can +well be conceived of. Where the thicket is thinner the trees are larger, +and the smaller they are the denser the covert. If you wish to journey +through this light bush, where there is no semblance of a track, it will +take you perhaps two hours to make a single mile, so thick is it. To +ride through it is, of course, impossible, unless a track has been cut. + +Two or three miles back from the river--at our back, or behind us, as we +say--the heavy bush begins. This is the primeval forest: endless miles +of enormous timber-trees, girthing ten feet, twenty feet, thirty feet, +forty feet, and even more, and of startling height. People cannot make +farms out of that; at least, not all at once. The timber is slowly +encroached upon to feed the saw-mills. Then the land so denuded can be +done something with. The stumps can be fired and left to rot, which they +do in about twelve or fifteen years, or they can be stubbed up with +infinite labour, or blown out with dynamite, the quickest and least +expensive way. + +We have not much big timber on our section. Here and there are groves of +larger trees amidst the jungle, and most of this sort we shall leave +standing, for it is not good to totally clear a large farm. Patches of +bush are wanted for shade, for cover, and to keep up the supply of +moisture. Settlers before us, who have inconsiderately made a clean +sweep of everything, have found out their error, and are now planting +out groves. + +But when you get a slice out of miles and miles of pathless woods, and +have to hew your future farm out of them, you are apt to forget the more +distant future, and go at everything before you with axe and fire. You +want to see grass-paddocks and plough-lands. Time enough to think of +planting again, or of saving bits of bush. + +Our first operation was to clear some twenty acres or so, as a primary +clearing, wherein our shanty might be built, and a little grass provided +to keep the milch-cows near home. We had two or three weeks chopping, +then, in the height of the dry season, managed a successful burn of the +fallen stuff, letting the fire run among the standing bush where it +would, and which it would not to any great extent, as the undergrowth +always keeps fresh on such rich soil. Thus we had a small clearing ready +to be sown with grass-seed directly the rains should come. And then we +were occupied with the erection of the shanty, as already described. + +After that we had our first stockyard to set up. It is a simple +enclosure, measuring a chain or two square; but had to be made of great +strength, in view of the contingency of unruly mobs of charging cattle. +To procure material we went six or eight miles off, to a creek that ran +through heavy bush. There we felled certain giant puriri trees, cut them +into lengths, and split them up with wedges into posts and rails. Puriri +timber is terribly tough stuff to work. It is harder than oak, and very +heavy, too, so that transporting it is serious toil. We groaned over +this job, and spoilt numerous axes; but we did it. + +Terrible work it was getting this material on to the ground. After we +had finished cutting, and had split out all the posts and rails we +wanted, it was comparatively easy work to punt the stuff into our own +water. But then the carrying up from the landing-place, a quarter-mile +or so, to the spot selected for the stockyard, was a labour indeed. It +took six of us to lift one of the posts, so solid were they, and so +heavy the timber. Old Colonial said-- + +"We are giving over work, and taking to humping." + +This is a bit of pleasantry that only those who have tried it can +understand, for humping timber is one of the most undesirable +occupations possible; as many a galled shoulder and aching back could +testify. + +Puriri timber is the strongest and most durable of any in the country. +We knew that kauri would give us less work, but the result would not be +so lasting or satisfactory. Therefore, we elected to go in for puriri. + +The posts stand about eight feet above ground, and are sunk some three +or four into it. Their average thickness will be from nine inches to a +foot. They carry five rails almost as substantial as the posts, both +being of roughly split timber. The rails are fixed into holes, bored and +wedged in the posts. Slip-panels form an entrance. Such was our first +stockyard--a substantial, thoroughly secure, and cattle-proof enclosure. +And it is as good now as it was eight years ago. For a long time it +served all our needs; but, subsequently, we have put up other yards, a +milking-shed with bails, sheep-pens and hog-pens, all constructed of +rough material, cut by ourselves in the bush. + +Having now got our habitation and our stockyard completed, and it being +well on in the wet season, with the newly-sown grass springing green +over the charred surface of the clearing, obviously it was time to +introduce stock. Our agent in Auckland bought for us a dozen good, young +cows and a bull, which were despatched to us on a small schooner. She +brought them up the river; and then they were dumped into the water, and +swum ashore. The whole lot cost us about a hundred pounds, freight and +other charges included, the cows being four or five pounds apiece, and +the bull forty, he being a well-bred shorthorn from the Napier herd. + +The cows were belled, and the whole little herd turned loose in the +bush. But the cows were tame, some of them being in milk, and we had not +much trouble in keeping them near home. The bull would not wander far +from the cows, and we drove them up and yarded them, with a good feed of +fresh koraka, every now and then. Besides the cattle we introduced some +pigs, fowls, and a dog or two. Before long we were milking daily, and +beginning to turn out butter and cheese; for the cows throve on the +plenteous feed in the bush. + +Although the wet season is not the usual time for felling bush, yet we +went to work at that at once. We were anxious to get as much grass as we +could the first year, so that we might get some sheep on it. For, though +cattle find plenty of feed in the bush--leafage, and shoots of +trees--sheep must be provided with grass, and there is no grass suitable +for pasturage indigenous to _Northern_ New Zealand. Accordingly, we +worked steadily at bush-falling right along to the end of the succeeding +summer; and when the next wet season came round again, we were able to +contemplate a hundred and forty acres sown down with grass. + +Axe-work was our principal daily toil, and it is a somewhat different +thing as practised here, to what the English woodman has to do. A +bushman's work is severe and energetic, altogether in contrast with the +lazy stop-and-rest methods of too many labourers at home. It is a fierce +but steady and continuous onslaught upon the woods. Everything must fall +before the axe, and everything does fall. Once I was watching the +prostration of a Worcestershire oak. It was a tree that might have had +some twelve feet of girth. Three men and a boy were employed at it, +armed with ropes and pulleys, wedges, saws, and all sorts of implements, +besides axes; and it was two days and a half before they got the tree to +earth. If a single bushman could not have knocked that tree over before +dinner-time, he would not have been worth wages in this country; I am +sure of that. + +Of course, it is an understood thing that England cannot turn out an +axe. If you want an axe that is really good for anything, you must go to +America for it. Here, in the bush, all our tools come from the land of +the Stars and Stripes. Why it should be so ask English cutlers. English +tools and cutlery of all sorts cannot find a sale here; for bitter +experience has taught us what inferior and unreliable goods they are. +American things never fail us. We do not buy them because they are +cheaper, but because they are better. They are exactly what we want, and +of sterling quality. + +Now, Sheffield can turn out the best hardware in the world, no one can +deny that. Then, why do we not get some of it out here? Some settlers, +who have furnished themselves in Sheffield itself, can show tools of +finer make than the American ones. But all the cutlery that we see +anything of in the stores, if it be English, is thoroughly worthless. +Why will English traders continue to suppose that any rubbish is good +enough for the colonies? We are afraid to buy English implements and +tools out here; and every experienced colonist prefers to trust America. +Our patriotism is humiliated, but we cannot afford to be cheated. +Surely, trade interests must suffer in the long run, by the pertinacity +with which English traders send inferior goods to the colonies. + +In felling bush, or "falling" it, as we say here, advantage is taken of +the lay of the land. To make the burn which is to follow a good one, the +stuff must all lie in the same direction. The tops of the felled trees +should point downhill as much as possible. The trees are gashed at about +three feet from the ground. This saves the bushman's back, obviating the +necessity of his stooping, and, moreover, allows him to get through more +work. Also, in after years, when the stumps are rotten, they are more +easily pulled out of the ground. By a simple disposition of the +direction in which the gashes are cut, the bushman is able to bring down +his tree to whichever side he wishes. A bill-hook, or slasher, +supplements the axe, for the purpose of clearing all the undergrowth. +Nothing is left standing above waist-height. + +The usual time for bush-falling is the dry season, that is to say, from +August till March, in which last month the burn is usually accomplished. +By that time the fallen stuff has been pretty well dried in the summer +sun, and will burn clean. Fires are started along the bottoms on days +when the wind is favourable. Some experience is needful to ensure a good +burn. Should the burn be a bad one, after work is much increased, and +wages consequently spoilt. + +After the burn comes the logging, that is, the collection into heaps of +such _debris_ as lies about unburnt, and the final burning of these +heaps. During April and May the rains begin; and then grass seed is sown +broadcast over the charred expanse. It soon sprouts up, and in a couple +of months there will begin to be some pasturage. Before next season a +good strong turf ought to have formed among the stumps. Every farmer has +his own particular ideas as to the kinds of seed to use. We used a +mixture of poa pratensis, timothy, and Dutch clover, and have abundant +reason to be satisfied with the result. + +When bush-falling is performed by hired labour, it usually goes by +contract. The bushman agrees to fall, fire, and log a specified tract, +at a fixed price per acre. Such bush as ours would go at thirty +shillings to three pounds an acre, according to the size of the trees on +the average. A bushman reckons to earn five shillings a day, taking one +day with another, so he ought to knock down an acre of stuff in from +five to ten days. Thirty or forty acres represent one man's work for the +season. + +A good deal of judgment is required in making these contracts. Where +there is a great deal of supple-jack, or tawhera scrub, the work may get +on as slowly as if the trees were comparatively large. And there is a +good deal of luck in the burn, for if it be a bad one there may be +weeks of logging afterwards. Sometimes, at the end of the season, a +bushman may find that his contract has not paid him much more than the +worth of his tucker during the time; or, on the other hand, he may find +he has made ten shillings a day clear out. + +New-chums often find a job of bush-falling is the first thing they can +get hold of, and a bitter apprenticeship it is. Their aching backs and +blistered hands convey a very real notion of what hard work and manual +labour means. And this goes wearily on day after day, while, very +likely, they find they are not earning a shilling a day, do all they +may. The ordinary English agricultural labourer, transplanted here, does +not seem to do better at this work at the start than the "young +gentleman." His class take a lot of teaching, and anything new appears +to be a tremendous difficulty to them. Moreover, they have to learn the +meaning of an Antipodean ganger's frequent cry, "Double up, there! +Double up!" And they do not like to work so hard that every now and then +a stop must be made to wring out the dripping shirt. Worst of all, there +is seldom any beer in the bush! + +After we had got some grass clearings, the next thing to do was to fence +them in. A very necessary thing that; first, to keep the sheep in--and, +second, to keep the wild pigs out. Two most important reasons, besides +other lesser ones. + +Fencing of many kinds has been tried in the colony, the question of +relative cost under different circumstances mainly influencing settlers +in their choice. I need only mention four varieties as being general in +the North. They are post-and-rail, wire, wattle, and stake. + +The first is undoubtedly the best of any, but the labour of cutting, +splitting, getting on the ground, and setting up is so great, that the +cost of such a fence is very heavy. It may cost two to five pounds a +chain, or more; but it should require no repairs for ten or twelve +years, and is proof against cattle, sheep, or pigs. The materials, +whether kauri, totara, or other timber, is much the same as that we used +for our stockyard, only, of course, it is not needed anything like so +strong. But it is the same sort of rough stuff, procured in the same +way. + +As to wire fences, they are useful enough for keeping sheep in, and come +in well for inner fences, being sufficiently cheap and easily set up. +But they will not keep out wild pigs, and cattle, accustomed to force +their way through the thickets of the bush, mistake wire fences for mere +supple-jack, and walk straight through them. Wattles interlaced on +stakes make first-rate protection, but they can only be used with +economy when the supply of them is close handy. + +The fence most commonly seen on new farms, and that may fairly be termed +the pioneer's mainstay, is a simple one of stakes. This is the kind we +went in for, as we had the material for it in any quantity upon our own +land. + +The stakes are the trunks of young trees, either whole or split. They +are about four inches diameter at the thickest end, and are set up at +three or four inches apart. The stakes are connected by one or more +battens nailed along them, or by wires. They are cut eight or nine feet +in length, so as to allow of a good six feet above ground when set up. +Red, black, and white birch are used, also red and white ti-tree, the +last variety being most esteemed, as it is more durable. A stake-fence +ought to be proof against both pigs and cattle, and is reckoned to be +good for seven years; if of white ti-tree it will last ten or twelve +years. It will cost, in labour, from eight shillings a chain and +upwards, according to the distance the cut stakes have to be moved. + +Our work in fencing was as follows. The first clearing we set about +enclosing was on the side of a range, and included forty or fifty acres. +If this were a square there would be some eighty chains or a mile of +fencing required to enclose it. Practically, there were nearer a +hundred chains of boundary. Each chain required from a hundred to a +hundred and thirty stakes. This is about the number that one of us could +cut in the day, and bring out of the adjoining bush on to the line. For +we got our material in the standing bush close to the clearing, working +along the edge of the woods, and seldom having to go further than five +chains away from the edge of the clearing to find suitable trees. + +Two or three men were engaged in pointing the stakes, and dumping and +malleting them into the ground. Sometimes they would put up four or five +chains in the day, sometimes only one; it depended on the nature of the +ground. When the weather was wet, and the ground soft, the work was +naturally lighter. After the stakes were set up we had to batten them +together. We bought several boatloads of battens--rough outside boards +split up, and the like--for next to nothing, at the Wairoa saw-mills, +and got them down to our place. Then we had to hump them up to the +ground; no light work, for a load had to be carried often nearly a mile +uphill. We purchased a keg or two of nails, and finally fixed up the +fence. + +We were proud of our clearings when they were new, and we are proud of +them still. But they would look strange sort of paddocks to an English +farmer's eye. The ground is all hills and hollows, lying on the sides of +ranges, or stretching across the gullies. Amidst the grass is a dazzling +perspective of black and white stumps, looking like a crop of +tombstones, seen endways; and round the whole careers, uphill and down +dale, the rough, barbarous, uncouth-looking stake fence. Never mind! Off +that gaunt and unseemly tract has come many a good bale of wool, many a +fair keg of butter, or portly cheese. What have we to do with trim +appearances? + +In the course of fencing operations, the Little'un developed a wonderful +aptitude for the manufacture of gates. Whether he had learnt the whole +art of carpentry from his practice upon a certain chair, elsewhere +described, I do not know; but his gates are a marvel of ingenuity, and +really very capital contrivances. Only, he is so vain of his +performance, that he wishes to put a gate about every hundred yards. A +constant warfare is waged upon this point, between him and Old Colonial, +who does not seem to approve of gates at all. + +In subsequent years we have done something towards making live-fences. +We have dug ditches and banks within some of the fences, planting them +with thorn, acacia, Vermont damson, Osage orange, and other hedge +material. We have now some very good and sightly hedges. Luckily, we +never tried whins, or furze, as here called. This is a vile thing. It +makes a splendid hedge, but it spreads across the clearing and ruins the +grass; and it is the worst of weeds to eradicate. + +Whins and thistles are the only bad things that Bonnie Scotland has sent +out here. They, and sweetbriar, are given to spreading wherever they go. +In some localities in the North there are clearings submerged under +whins or sweetbriar, and there are forests of thistles, which march +onward and devour all before them. Whins you cannot clear, unless by +toil inadequate to the present value of land. But thistles can be +effectually burnt, I believe. At any rate, they die out after a term of +years, and, it is said, leave the land sweet and clean. So they are, +perhaps, not an unmixed curse. + +We think that thorn makes the best hedge. But there are objections to +it. It is not easily or quickly reared, and it straggles on light soils; +moreover, it is always needing attention. We have no time to spare for +clipping and laying and all that sort of thing. Labour has to be +severely economized on pioneer farms. + +Of course, all the time these things were proceeding, we were +simultaneously busied with other matters. Chiefly were we providing for +our own immediate sustenance. The pigs were bred and well looked after, +fattened, butchered, made into pork, or cured. Poultry was also +carefully regarded, especially the turkeys, which are so valuable in +keeping down crickets, and make such an important addition to the +commissariat. Then there was the garden. + +We have several gardens at present, as we follow the custom of enclosing +any particularly choice bit of land, and using it for our next year's +crop of potatoes, kumera, or maize. Some of these enclosures are +afterwards turned into the general grass, or are converted into +orchards, and so on. + +The first garden we made was set apart for the purpose directly after +the shanty was finished, and certain of our party were engaged +exclusively upon it for the time being. It comprehended two or three +acres on the shoulder of a low range, and was once the site of a Maori +kainga, or village. Hence, the scrub that covered it was not of large +growth, while the soil is exceptionally loose and rich, consisting of +black mould largely intermixed with shells. This space we cleared and +fenced in. Then we went to work with spade and pickaxe and mattock. + +We cut drains through the garden, and laid it off into sections. These +were planted with potatoes, kumera, melons, pumpkins, onions, and +maize. Digging was, of course, a hard job, the ground being full of +roots. We threw out these as we dug, or left them; it does not matter +much, for as long as we just covered the seeds anyhow, the rest was of +small concern. After a crop or two the ground gets into better +condition, and what we put in thrives just as well among the stumps as +not. + +Round the sides of the garden we planted peach-stones, which have now +developed into an avenue of fine trees. We also set cuttings of +fig-trees, apples, pears, loquats, and oranges, obtained from some +neighbour. + +Thus, before we had been a year on the land, we had gone a good way +towards providing the bulk of our food-supply for the future. We have +since seldom had to buy anything but our flour, tea, sugar, salt and +tobacco, so far as important and absolutely needful items are concerned. + +And now that I have recorded the manner of our start, I may go on to +speak of things as they are, seven or eight years later. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +OUR PIONEER FARM. + +II. + + +We have a large farm, and a great deal of work to get through, but then +there are eight or nine of us to share in the first and to do the +latter; yet we find that we never have time to do all that we ought to +do, and all that we want to do. Every year brings with it an increasing +amount of labour, just to keep things going as they are, consequently +the time for enlarging the farm becomes more and more limited. Thus it +is, that though we cleared and grassed a hundred and forty acres in our +first year, yet we have now only five or six hundred acres of grass in +our eighth. + +Hampered as we were by the lack of capital, and by the necessity of +scraping and pinching to meet those payments spoken of, it is little +wonder that we seem as poor and pauperized as we were at the +commencement. But we are by no means really so. We are actually in very +good circumstances. Our farm is immensely increased in value, and is now +beginning to pay substantially. Another year will see the sum completed, +which will close the purchase of the land. After that, we shall have +means to make outlays of sundry kinds, be able to build a fine house, go +in for marriage. Who knows what else? + +The grass on our clearings is rich and abundant, and, owing to the +nature of the soil, keeps fresh and green all through the dry season, +when other districts are crying out against the drought. In spite of the +standing stumps, the rough ground, and the mere surface-sowing, our +grass will carry four sheep per acre all the year round; some of it +more. It is not all fenced in--that would be too much to expect--but +most of it is; and what is not gives the milch cows plenty of feed, and +so keeps them from wandering off. The clearings are not all in one +piece. They are divided off into paddocks, and there is a good deal of +standing bush among them, some of which will eventually come down, and +some of which will be left. + +We have now seven or eight hundred head of sheep. We had to buy our +original store flock on credit, but the increase and wool has enabled us +to pay that off long since. Similarly, grass-seed, some stock, and +other things were bought on credit, which has since been liquidated. +What we have is our own. We have had years of incessant toil, the +hardest possible work, with plenty of food, but little comfort and no +holidays to speak of. Two or three years more of it, and then we shall +be in a condition to really enjoy the prosperity we have laboured for. + +Except at shearing and lambing seasons, our Lincolns and Leicesters give +us but little trouble. We did try the merino breed, but they broke +through the fence and ran away into the bush, where we occasionally see +traces of them, and have once or twice caught one and turned it into +mutton. Shearing is a great business, but we are all accomplished hands +at it now, and our bales are larger every year as the flock increases. +Wool is ready money here, being an article that can always be negotiated +at once with the Auckland dealers. Our wool is reckoned of even better +quality than that grown on the great sheepwalks of Canterbury and Otago. + +During a great part of the year we are milking ten to twenty cows daily, +and, in spite of the seeming inefficiency of our dairy arrangements, we +send a goodly store of butter and cheese to the township, whence it goes +to Auckland and elsewhere. We fatten pigs, too, on skim-milk, maize, +pumpkins, and peaches grown by ourselves. A score or two are usually to +be seen on the clearings round the shanty. We are able butchers and +curers; and Old Colonial excels in the manufacture of brawn, sausages, +collared head, and the like. Most of the pig-meat is consumed by +ourselves. In one form or other it is our staple food. But occasionally +we sell a barrel of pork, or some flitches and hams, to such local +buyers as the bushmen employed at the saw-mills. + +Dandy Jack talks of introducing Angora goats. I do not know exactly why, +but he appears to think the project a good one. He has long ago given up +mere coaching. In fact, people began to have doubts about entrusting +themselves to his driving, though I hesitate to record such a +disagreeable matter. He joined our society some years ago, though he is +not always with us, gravitating invariably towards all the races, horse +and cattle fairs of the country. But he has set up as a horse breeder +and trainer, keeping his stud on our clearings, and thus adding another +industry to the various others of our pioneer farm. This is a good thing +for us, as Jack's horses come in very usefully sometimes, for carrying +or dragging purposes. + +Our largest source of income just at present is the herd. First there is +the dairy business, which I have already spoken of. The milch cows keep +on the clearings, or near to them, and soon get tame enough to come up +when called. They are brought to the bails morning and evening, fastened +up, and given a feed of koraka. All cattle are very fond of the leaves +of the koraka-tree, and it is used to entice them with when that is +required. Of course, it will be understood that, as there is no cold +winter here, we do not require to house our cattle at any season, nor do +we need to provide them with hay or root food. They find their own +living all the year round, either in the bush or on the clearings, and +the most we do is to give them maize-stalks when we have some. + +The bulk of the herd, numbering now upwards of two hundred head, runs +free in the bush. There is no native grass, as I have before mentioned, +and the feed is tree leafage. This suits the cattle, and they fatten +well upon it, though not turning out very large beasts. But the +pasture-fed cattle of the South are not in prime condition for market +during the dry-season. Our bush-raised beasts are, and this gives us a +pull. + +The best part of one man's time is always taken up with stock duty. To +keep the cattle from becoming unmanageably wild, and from getting too +far away, they must be constantly driven up to the yards, and accustomed +to discipline. It is our practice to give every beast a night in the +yard at least once in six weeks. And it is also essentially necessary +to keep an eye on calving cows, for if the calf is not brought up at +once, branded, and so forth, it will be sure to turn out wild and a +rusher, and then it would have to be shot at once, to prevent its +infecting other beasts. + +Of course, we are all stockmen more or less; but Old Colonial and the +Saint are the chief hands at this work. The latter gentleman did not +receive his appellation, as might be supposed, from any relations which +his character bore to it. He was intended for the Church at one time; +but, perhaps, the Church is to be congratulated in that it did not +receive him. There is nothing mild or milk-and-watery about our Saint, +though he has his own peculiar moral code, and is strictly scrupulous in +its observance. + +The Saint is the most elaborate swearer I ever heard. That is, when he +is driving cattle. At other times he most conscientiously refrains from +everything but abstract rectitude of speech. He says that you cannot +drive cattle without swearing; that they understand you so far, and +never think you are in earnest till they hear an oath. Whip and dogs and +roaring will not do without some good hearty swearing, too. The Saint +says so, and he ought to know. He declares that he could never bring up +cattle unless he swore at them. I think I have heard something similar +from other drovers. Perhaps some naturalist will be good enough to +explain this extraordinary characteristic of cattle. + +The cattle associate themselves into mobs. Each such mob is headed by an +old bell-cow, sometimes by two or three. Bulls, of which we have now +two, are sometimes with one mob and sometimes with another. Individual +beasts, belonging to neighbours of ours, are to be found running with +certain mobs belonging to us, and the reverse is also the case. We have +to look after the strange beasts with our own, and our neighbours do the +same by us. At musters, or when drafting for market, we make the +necessary exchanges. But we have only two neighbours on this side the +river who run cattle in the bush; one lives six miles off, and the other +fifteen. + +We keep a stock-book, in which every beast is entered. Each cow receives +a name when she becomes a mother, and her offspring are known by +numbers. Steers are never named. They have only four years of it, being +sent off to market at the end of that time. Then a line is drawn through +the "Beauty's third," or "Rosebud's fourth," which has designated their +individuality in the stock-book; and the price they have fetched is +entered opposite. The various mobs are known by the names of the old +cows that lead them. Thus, we speak of "White Star's mob," or "Redspot's +mob." + +It is the stockman's duty to know each individual beast, and also to +know the members that compose each mob. He has to go out with the dogs +almost every day to hunt up some mob or other. Our bush is much too +dense to admit of riding, except along certain narrow tracks, partly +natural and partly cut with the axe, which serve as bridle-roads, and +keep open communication with distant settlements or settlers' places. So +the member of our fraternity who happens to be stockman has to go +cattle-hunting afoot. + +Cattle-hunting, as we term this employment, has a certain charm and air +of sporting about it; but it is by no means light work, especially in +warm weather. The stockman has to travel through pathless woods all the +time, and has an area of twenty to thirty miles round our place in which +to search for his cattle. He takes some fixed route to start with, +making for some distant locality, where experience has taught him such +and such a mob are likely to be feeding. On his way he takes note of any +cattle he may come across, marks the gullies they are in, and thus, +having knowledge of the ways of cattle, is able to guess within a mile +or two where those mobs are likely to be found when wanted. + +Moreover, a good stockman gets to be experienced in tracking. He reads +"sign" in every broken bough or trampled water-hole, and this guides him +in finding the mob he wants. We know the bush around us pretty well by +this time, about as well, in fact, as a cabman knows the streets of +London. It is all mapped out in our minds, and we talk of various spots +by name, either their Maori names, if they have such, or fancy titles we +have given them. + +Of course, the dogs are our main reliance, though, even without them, +such able hands as Old Colonial and the Saint can get on well enough. +But clever, well-trained cattle-dogs are a treasure beyond price in the +bush; and this we know, taking great pains with our colleys. The cattle +lie very close in the dense thickets of foliage, and hide themselves +from sight. One may run slap into a beast before it will move. But the +dogs traverse the gullies on the stockman's flanks, and start up any +cattle that may be in them. Here is where the value of the dogs +consists, for, if they are not well-trained, they may run after wild +pigs, or rats, or kiwis, and give a lot of trouble. + +Sometimes, after tracking the forest for many a weary mile, the stockman +will have to return without finding the mob he wanted. Occasionally he +will have to camp out, not because of losing himself--that seldom +happens to us now--but because of the distance he is from home. So a +stockman rarely goes out without three requisites about him--food, +matches, and tobacco. Except in wet weather, camping out is no +particular hardship to us. One can always make oneself comfortable +enough in the bush, if one has those three articles, that are the +bushman's "never-be-withouts." + +When the cattle are found, belonging to a mob that the stockman thinks +proper to drive home, comes some very heavy and exciting work. We call +our beasts tame, and so they are in a sense; still, compared to the +gentle creatures one sees on English meadows, they are scarcely to be so +characterized. + +At one time a mob will head for home, and go straight and quietly +enough, needing only the dogs at their heels to keep them in the right +direction. At another time the mob will scatter, and the members of it +prove very unruly. They will charge and rush in every direction but the +right one, and the very devil seems to be in the beasts. Scrambling up +steep ranges, dashing down precipitous ravines, and always forcing a +passage through dense undergrowth and jungle, plunging through marsh and +bog, chasing to right and to left, it is a wonder how dogs and men get +through the work they do. And often there are miles and miles of this +before the welcome clearing comes in view. + +What is the condition of a stockman after he has brought up his mob and +yarded it for the night? He has walked and run and scrambled, perhaps, +twenty or thirty miles during the day, and that not over a plain road, +but through the rough and hilly forest. He is totally tired out and +exhausted. He is dripping with sweat, caked with mud from head to foot, +his shirt torn to rags, his skin scratched all over, and very likely +some nasty bruises from tumbles. He has hardly energy enough left to +wash himself. Supper does not revive him, though he stows away an +appallingly large one. And then he stretches himself in his bunk and is +happy. Only, when morning comes again, he awakes stiff and sore. But, no +matter for that, inexorable duty claims him for the same toil. And so +wags our daily life--hard, unremitting, unromantic labour, day after +day, year after year. Still we say it is a glorious life, and we believe +what we say. Anyhow, it is better than being chained to a desk, or +growing purblind "poring over miserable books." + +If you can only realize what cattle-hunting means, the shouting and +roaring after them and the dogs, the loss of temper that fatigue +induces, and the consequent aggravation when beasts are unruly, perhaps +you will forgive the Saint for his "exuberant verbosity" in relation to +cattle. Even a real saint might swear under the circumstances, and be +held excused by his peers in the celestial hierarchy. + +Our four-year-old steers do not show very large, considered from English +farmers' points of view. Fifteen or sixteen hundred lbs. is about the +maximum of our fat beasts. But the beef is of first-rate quality; and as +bush-fed beasts are in good condition at the end of the dry season, when +pasture-raised cattle are poor, we do as well by them as could be +desired. The bush is always cool and fresh and moist, even when all the +grass is withered and brown on the pastures; and this is one of the +reasons why we prefer bush-land to open-land for pioneer farming. + +There is a standing controversy waged among settlers, as to whether it +is better to take up such land as ours or to go in for a tract of open +fern-land. On open lands you can easily clear the ground, and, though it +will not, as a rule, yield grass for mere surface-sowing, yet the plough +can be put into it within a year or two. But the cost of fencing it is +much higher; and the open-land farmer must wait longer for returns such +as will keep him. He has no bush-feed for cattle as we have, and it is +cattle that the pioneer relies on for his support at first. It is eight +or twelve years before the bush-farmer gets a chance of ploughing; but +then his cattle keep him going from the outset. Also, our burnt +clearings will yield us good grass for surface-sowing, which will feed +sheep until the stumps have rotted and the plough can be used. The sum +of it is that open-lands will pay a man with good capital quicker, while +bush-lands are the only possible thing for such poorer folk as +ourselves. + +We send steers to Auckland market two or three times a year. Once or +twice we have driven them overland, a distance of eighty miles or so by +the map. This is not so far, certainly; but then there are no proper +roads, and most of the way lies through thick bush. There is a faint +apology for a bridle-track through the forest, not very easy to find, +which strikes the Great North Road about twenty miles from here. And +this same Great North Road, in spite of a pretentious title, and also in +spite of being marked in the maps with a heavy black line, as though it +were a highway of the Watling Street description, is just a mere +bridle-track, too, hardly discoverable at all for the greater portion of +its length. + +Two or three of us ride along these tracks with the cattle. One or two +have to be most of the time on foot, while the third leads their horses. +They are plunging through the otherwise impenetrable scrub after dogs +and cattle, which last will not keep the line. The whole journey takes +about a week. We camp down at night, and half the next day is taken up +with hunting for some of the beasts that have strayed. Usually one or +two are lost altogether before Auckland is reached. + +This sort of thing hardly pays, unless a considerable number of beasts +have to be sent at once; and then the steers have lost condition before +they can be got to market. I have had some experience of this +cattle-driving work; and of all the aggravating jobs I know, it +certainly is the very worst. + +We usually send up our fat steers in batches of a dozen or so at a time, +and prefer now to have them conveyed by water. When we have arranged to +do so, there is a grand muster of the herd. Mob after mob is brought up +and enclosed in the fenced clearings, until we have collected together +all we deem necessary. + +Then comes the job of drafting out the steers selected for market. This +is a work of difficulty. All hands are required to achieve it, and often +several neighbours will come over to assist. A small paddock, or a +stockyard, opens out of the larger one wherein the herd is assembled. +The slip-panels between are guarded by four men. Others on horseback, +armed with the formidable loud-cracking stock-whips, drive the cattle +slowly towards the gate. Then comes the tug of war. Each man uses all +his endeavours to drive the chosen steers through the gate, while the +rest are excluded. + +A regular battle is fought over every steer; for the guardians of the +gate often fail in preventing other beasts from getting through as well, +as they will not separate. Then the driving is renewed from the other +side. The cattle get wild and furious, charging and rushing at +everything and everybody, and the men on foot have to look out for +themselves very warily. The racket and row make up an indescribable din. + +As each four-year-old is finally drafted out, it is driven into a +separate yard, until all are secured there. Then the bulk of the herd +are turned loose into the bush again. By-and-by, perhaps a day or two +later, comes the job of shipping the steers. In order to effect this +they are transferred to a stockyard on the beach. + +We have chartered a sea-going cutter, and she lies off in the river, +possibly two or three hundred yards from the beach. A rope connects her +with the beach; and the noosed end of this is passed over the horns of +one of the steers in the yard. Then comes a tussle to get that +particular beast out of the yard while the others shall be kept in. +Often, in spite of the dreaded stockwhips, one of the guardians of the +slip-panels gets knocked over, and then away goes the mob of terrified +beasts, tearing along the beach, and giving no end of trouble to get +them back again. Once, I remember, a heavy steer bounded clean over the +eight-foot fence of the stockyard, and got away. + +When the roped animal is got out on the beach, a ring of men drives him +down to the water, the people on board the cutter hauling at the rope +meanwhile. By this means he is easily got alongside of her, when once he +is off his legs and swimming. Then a sling is passed under his belly, +tackle is affixed, and, with a "Yeo, heave ho!" he is lifted on board +and deposited in the hold. Then the process begins afresh until all the +batch is shipped. + +The cutter sails down the river and out through the Heads into the open +sea. She then coasts down and enters the Manukau Harbour, going up to +Onehunga to unload. Onehunga is only six miles from Auckland, of which +it is practically a part, being the port of the city on the west coast. +It is connected with Auckland by railway and macadamized carriage-road. + +In Auckland market fat cattle sell at twenty to thirty shillings per +hundred lbs., sometimes even a little more. Our beasts usually fetch us +ten or twelve pounds apiece, after deducting freightage, and our +agent's charges for receiving and selling them. This year, our herd of +two hundred head yielded us three batches of four-year-old fat steers, +each batch containing about a dozen head. + +When cattle breed wild in the bush they may be a source of considerable +annoyance and loss. This does not matter in remoter districts, such as +the recesses of the Hokianga forests. Wild cattle abound there, possibly +in hundreds; and the Maoris make a good thing by hunting them for their +hides. There are no settlers' cattle running in the bush there; but +where there are, wild cattle would make them as wild as themselves, and +would spoil a herd in no time. When they appear in a district, +cattle-farmers have to combine to hunt them down and extirpate them. + +Once there were some wild cattle in the bush between Te Pahi and +Paparoa, on the opposite side of our river. The settlers of Paparoa were +hunting them down, and we were warned to look out, for fear the beasts +should take to the water. They did do so, and a whole mob of them tried +to swim over to our side. + +Fortunately we were on the look-out. At once a party took to the boats, +while others watched along the shore. We were in a great funk about the +matter, for if the wild bulls got over to our side it might mean almost +ruin for us. So we charged gallantly at them in the water, and strove to +head them back to the other side, where the Paparoa men were waiting for +them. + +Such guns as we had were brought out, but they were little good, not +being rifled, and we had no ball cartridge. Dandy Jack performed +prodigies of valour with an old harpoon; and O'Gaygun used his axe with +great success. Altogether, the excitement was great and the sport good. +One bull overturned a boat, as it rowed alongside him; but the Fiend, +who was in it, adroitly clambered on to the animal's back as it swam, +and, with great difficulty, managed to open its throat with his knife. +Seven or eight were killed in the water. Even the despised new-chums' +pistols were brought into use, and in this emergency they proved really +valuable. The beasts that effected the crossing were slaughtered on the +beach; and altogether we killed some eighteen or twenty. We prevented +them thus from getting into our bush, so saving our own herd from +contamination. This has been our only experience of the kind in this +district, luckily. + +There was an incident that happened once, in connection with cattle, of +rather an unusual sort. So much so, in fact, that most people to whom we +have at times spoken of it have doubted our veracity. I suppose it will +add but little weight to the story if I premise it with the assertion +that it is simple truth. Nevertheless, it _is_ actual fact, believe it +or not who list. + +There was a grand assemblage at the station of a friend and neighbour of +ours, on one of the Kaipara rivers. He had been running a large herd, +over a thousand head of cattle, and was now going to dispose of the +greater number. This was because the feed for them was getting short in +his immediate neighbourhood; and because his land was now becoming ready +for sheep and the plough. + +Nearly all the men in the district had been asked to come and assist at +the mustering, drafting, and so on, of the herd. It was a gathering of +the kind known in America as a "bee." And as a bee usually winds up with +festivity, feasting, dancing, and the like, such femininities as the +district possessed were brought over by their respective husbands or +male relatives. While we busied ourselves with the cattle in the yard +and on the run, the ladies were occupied with industries peculiar to +themselves indoors, giving the mistress of the house the benefit of a +sewing, scandal, and cooking bee, probably. + +We had been all day hard at work, and had pretty well got through all +there was to do. Most of the cattle had been drafted into yards, had +been branded or handled as required, and the work was nearly complete. +Towards sundown we came to be most of us assembled about one of the +yards. + +This was a stockyard, or paddock, of about two acres in extent, and +within it an obstinate young bull remained solus, holding his own +against us. It was necessary, for purposes which need not be specified, +that the beast should be thrown and tied down. We usually accomplish the +overthrow of big beasts by noosing their legs, and so tripping them up; +but this bull was far too wary to let any one get near him, and was wild +and vicious, moreover. Several of us had been fruitlessly trying, for an +hour or more, to do something with him, and our host was now saying the +beast had better be shot out of hand; but we had spent so much time over +him already that we did not like to give in, and resolved we would throw +him anyhow. None of us could stay inside the fence, so fierce were the +rushes of the bull, and he was too cunning to let himself be caught by +coming near the rails. + +As man after man concluded his other tasks, and came up to assist, our +perplexity seemed to increase. Various plans were discussed, and put in +operation, but the bull baffled them all. There was beginning to be a +good deal of ill-temper and swearing among us. + +And now Dandy Jack appeared on the scene. He had not been with us during +the day, having just rowed over from somewhere else. Of course he had +gravitated towards the house when he arrived, and had been sunning +himself in the ladies' smiles. Now he was strolling out to have a pipe, +and to see what we were about. + +Tired, ill-tempered, and covered with muck as we all were, there was a +tendency among us to resent this late arrival of Master Dandy Jack's; +and this feeling, you may be sure, was not lessened by a contemplation +of the extravagant cleanliness and daintiness of apparel that, as usual, +pervaded this spruce lady-killer's outward man. + +He was hailed with a volley of sarcasm and personalities, amid which he +stood, hands in pockets and pipe in mouth, placidly surveying us and the +situation. At length, when a pause in the tempest of words gave him an +opportunity of speaking, he said, in his softest and most delicate +tones-- + +"I see before me a number of gentlemen with whom I have the honour to be +more or less acquainted. They are all hot, dirty, and disagreeable. I +also see a stockyard, and within it four quarters of fresh beef, +likewise hot, dirty, and disagreeable. There would seem to be a +difficulty somewhere. Can I assist in removing it?" + +He was answered by a burly giant of a bushman, a Wairoa man, who had +scant knowledge of our dandy. + +"P'raps you'll be so blanked polite as to show us how to capsize that +blanked beast," he said, adding with bitter irony, "if it ain't too much +to ask from such a blanked, pretty, drawing-room ornament!" + +"Oh, certainly! with all the pleasure in life!" responded Dandy Jack +urbanely. "Will you kindly keep my pipe alight for a minute?" + +Then, to everybody's amazement, he vaulted over the fence and approached +the bull. Instantly that animal saw him, down went his head, of course, +and up went his tail, as he charged upon the sauntering figure. But Jack +dodged the rush with the nimbleness of a practised picador; and the bull +crashed against the fence. Again and again the same performance was +repeated, while we all watched round the fence, calling to Jack at +intervals to come out of his dangerous situation. He only nodded +carelessly, and continued to saunter about as if no bull was near him. + +Presently, the bull stood stock-still, then commenced pawing the ground, +tossing his head and tail, bellowing, and eyeing Jack, who was leisurely +moving towards him right in front. He had apparently grown tired of +charging this figure that always eluded him, and was uncertain what to +do next. So Dandy Jack walked on till he was within a yard or two of the +bull's nose. Then the beast thought it was time to do something, and +concluded to try the effect of one more rush. + +But he was too late. Directly that his angry head went down, with a +preparatory sweep, Dandy Jack, whose assumed carelessness really covered +a preternatural degree of alertness, sprang at him. + +It was all done so quickly that we spectators could hardly distinguish +what was happening. We saw Jack seize one of the bull's horns with both +hands, we saw him place his foot upon the other. Then came a wrench and +a wrestle, all in the space of one moment, and then Jack was whirling +through the air, to fall lightly enough on the soft ground half a dozen +yards off. + +But the bull lay rolling on his back. That twist of his head had +overbalanced him. And before he could recover himself and scramble to +his feet, we had sprang over the fence and got him securely tied with +our ready ropes. + +A few minutes later, our eccentric chum was quietly sitting on the +prostrate and helpless carcase of his late antagonist. With his usual +dainty care he was ridding himself of the dust and dirt that had soiled +him when he fell. The Wairoa man was regarding him in blank +astonishment. Clearly, Dandy Jack was an entirely new species of the +_genus homo_ to him. Thus spake the bull-fighter, with elaborate +affectation of languor and softness-- + +"Look here, old fellow! You don't understand what a bull is. I'll tell +you. It's a thing that some people look at from the safe side of the +fence, and that other people take by the horns." + +This was hardly fair upon the giant, perhaps. But after his doughty +deed, Dandy Jack was to be excused if he improved the occasion, and +revenged himself for the sneer that had previously been cast upon him. + +Oh! we are getting on fast and famously now, with our farm. The stumps +on the first clearing are now completely rotten; so we have pulled them +out, piled them in heaps, and burnt them. This clearing is ready for the +plough. Besides, there is a piece of flat, marshy ground below our +shanty on the left, and this was only covered originally with flax, +swamp-grass, and small shrubs. In the dry season we have burnt this off +as it stood. The soil is not deep, but it is good, and we shall plough +this in with the other. There will be about fifty acres of plough land +altogether, and twice as much more next year, or the year after. + +We have borrowed a plough and harrows from a neighbour, and are going +to work. Ploughing is quite a new industry up here. There are some of +the settlers round who have got lands under plough before this; but not +to any great extent. To us it seems to open up a boundless vista of +opulence, and there is no end to our speculations, and to the general +excitement in our shanty. + +Wheat! We must grow it, of course; and a flour-mill at the township is +an imperative necessity. Somebody must start one, and that quickly. Why +should we go on eating Adelaide flour, when we are growing wheat +ourselves? They have reaped sixty and eighty bushels to an acre, in the +South Island, and their average is thirty! So Old Colonial tells us. +Well, our land is richer than theirs, and our climate is better too, so +much cannot be gainsaid. _Ergo_, we shall have better crops. South +Island corn has been sold in London at a profit; and has been judged +first-class in quality. _Ergo_, again, ours must infallibly top the +markets of the world. That is, what we are _going_ to grow, you +understand. + +Then there is the great sugar question. Government is always offering +divers incentives to new industries. It has offered a bonus of L500 to +whomsoever produces the first fifty tons of beet-root sugar in New +Zealand. That is, over and above what the sugar may fetch in the market. +We say, why should not we go in for it? So many acres of beet, a +crushing mill, a few coppers and some tubs, and there you are! Wealth, +my boy! Wealth! + +But O'Gaygun has misgivings. "This is not a whate-growin' counthry," he +declares. It is far too rough and hilly. There are too many difficulties +in the way. You can grow wheat to a certain extent, of course. The North +can produce enough for its own consumption, and more. It will pay as one +among other operations and productions. But we must not think of it as +our principal or staple industry. + +And then as to sugar. You must have a couple of hundred acres of beet at +least, to begin with. A mill and appliances that are to be of real use +would cost L2000 or so. Your bonus would be but a small thing if you got +it. If all the farmers in the district were to combine to grow beet-root +on every acre they could plough, and nothing else, even then it would +hardly pay the sugar-mills, or possibly the farmers either. Stick to +cattle and sheep, to pigs and potatoes, "Ontil ye're able to give ye're +attintion to fruit. Fruit! Whativver ye can do wid it, that's what this +counthry's made for! Wine! an' ile! an' raisins! an'----" + +"Oh, shut up, O'Gaygun! Get out, you miserable misanthrope!" + +Nevertheless, I think our Irish chum was about right in what he said, +after all, especially in the last part of his remarks. + +Dandy Jack had been training horses, and Old Colonial had been gentling +bullocks; so we had a choice of draggers for the plough. We ploughed in +those fifty acres, fenced them round, and put in potatoes for a cleaning +crop, to thoroughly break up the old turf. We hope to get two crops in +the year. The second will be maize and pumpkins. Then, next year, wheat. + +The new-ploughed land is surveyed with rapture by us; but it is +something different from an English field, after all. The ground was so +irregular and rough; our beasts were not too easy to manage; and +then--but this is unimportant--it was our first essay at ploughing. The +furrows are not exactly straight, and there is a queer, shaggy look +about them. But the potatoes are in, and a crop we shall have, no doubt +about it. What more can possibly be needed? + +I have mentioned that we have several enclosures that may be termed +gardens. So we have, and what they produce fully bears out O'Gaygun's +opinion, as to this being essentially a fruit country. Of course our +spade industry gives us all the vegetables we require, when we lay +ourselves out for it. The worst of growing anything except roots is the +immense amount of weeding required; the weeds spring in no time; and +they are of such a savage sort in this fertile land. + +We grow large quantities of melons--water-melons, musk-melons, +rock-melons, Spanish melons, pie-melons, and so on. Also, we grow +marrows and pumpkins in profusion, as the pigs are fed on them as well +as ourselves. These plants do not want much weeding. They may be grown, +too, among the maize. Kumera, or sweet potatoes, we grow a good deal of; +also many other vegetables, when we think we have time to plant them. + +But in fruit we excel. There is a neighbour of ours who goes in for +tree-culture exclusively, and who has a nursery from which he supplies +Auckland. To him we owe a greater variety than we should otherwise have, +perhaps. + +First, there are peaches. We have a great number of trees, as they will +grow from the stone. We eat them in quantities; pickling, preserving, +and drying them sometimes. But the principal use to which we put them is +to fatten our pigs. We have several kinds of peaches, coming on at +different seasons. The earliest kind are ripe about Christmas, and other +sorts keep on ripening to March or April. Then we have some few +apricots, nectarines, plums, cherries, loquats, etc., all yielding +bounteously. + +The last are a very delicious fruit, ripening about October or November. +Figs we have till late into the winter, and they begin again early; we +are very fond of them. Oranges, lemons, and shaddocks grow fairly well, +and are fruiting all the year round. Apples do badly, being subject to +blight, though the young trees grow rapidly, and, if freely pruned, will +yield enormous crops. To obviate the blight we keep a constant +succession of young trees to replace those that are killed. Pears are +not subject to the blight, and do well. Grapes are very luxuriant; and, +no doubt, this will be a wine-country in the future. Already, some +people at Mangawai have made good wine, and have started a little trade +in it. Of strawberries, guavas, Cape gooseberries, and other small fruit +we have a little. The former fruit so plenteously here, that the leaves +are entirely hidden by the clusters of berries and blossom. The second +is a bush; and the last a plant like a nettle, which sows itself all +over. The fruit is nice. + +Both the gardens and the clearings are subject to a horrible plague of +crickets. They are everywhere, and eat everything. But turkeys and ducks +fatten splendidly on them, acquiring a capital gamey flavour. +Cricket-fed turkey would shame any stubble-fed bird altogether, both as +to fatness and meatiness and flavour. We have hundreds of turkeys wild +about the place, which keep down the crickets a good deal. Although we +eat them freely, they increase very rapidly, like everything else here. +The worst of it is they will not leave the grapes alone, and if they +would the crickets won't, which is a difficulty in the way of +vine-growing. But notwithstanding that, some of us are convinced that +wine-making is the coming industry of the Kaipara. Then there is the +olive, and the mulberry for serici-culture. Both these things are to +come. Experiment has been made in growing them, but that is all as yet. +Tobacco, too, will have its place. It grows well; and the Maoris +sometimes smoke their own growth. We prefer the Virginian article. A man +at Papakura has done well with tobacco, we hear. Government has bonused +him, so it is said; and his manufactured product is to be had in all the +Auckland shops--strong, full-flavoured stuff; wants a little more care +in manufacture, perhaps. + +Tobacco, like some other things we have tried--hops, castor-oil, spices, +drugs, and so on--needs cheap labour for picking. That is the _sine qua +non_ to success in these things. And for cheap labour we must wait, I +suppose, till we are able to marry, and to rear those very extensive +families of children, which are one of the special products of this +fruitful country, and which are also such aids to the pioneer in +getting on. + +Take it altogether, we--the pioneers of Te Pahi--are of opinion that +pioneer-farming here is a decided success. We are satisfied that it +yields, and will yield, a fair return for the labour we have invested in +it. We think that we are in better case, on the whole, than we should +have been after eight years' work at other avocations in the old +country. Putting aside the question of the magnificent health we +enjoy--and that is no small thing--we are on the high road to a degree +of competence we might never have attained to in England. Not that we +wish to decry England; on the contrary, we would like to return there. +But for a visit, merely. Here is our home, now. The young country that +is growing out of its swaddling clothes, and that we hope, and we know, +will one day be a Brighter Britain in deed and in truth. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +OUR SHOW-PLACE. + + +We have a show-place, and one of which we are excessively proud. It is +not a castle, a baronial hall, or ruined abbey, as one would expect a +properly constituted show-place to be--at "home." In this new country, +it is needless to say, we have no antiquities of that sort. Yet this +place, of which we are so proud, and that it delights us to extol to +strangers, has a history that renders its singular picturesqueness +additionally striking. + +Mere scenery is never so effective if it has no story to tell. There +must be something, be it fact or fiction, to attach to a place before +its beauties can be fully appreciated. The charm of poetry and romance +is a very real one, and can add much to one's enjoyment of a particular +view. I suppose that something is needed to interest and attract the +intelligence, at the same moment that the sense of sight is captivated, +so that a double result is produced. + +Scotland is one fair example of this. Fine as the scenery there may be, +is it to be supposed that alone would attract such hordes of tourists +every summer? Certainly not; it is the history associated with each spot +that throws a glamour over it. Much magnificence of nature is passed by +unheeded in Scotland, because history or tradition has conferred a +higher title to regard upon some less picturesque place beyond. The +fiction and poetry of Scott, and of Burns and others in less degree, +have clothed the mountains and the glens with a splendid lustre, that +causes people to view their natural beauties through a mental magnifying +glass. Nature unadorned seldom gets the admiration bestowed on it that +it does when added to by art. + +But why pursue this topic? Every one knows and feels the power that +associations have of rendering picturesque nature more picturesque +still. Therefore, a show-place, to be regarded as such in the true sense +of the word, must possess features of interest of another kind, +underlying the external loveliness of form and outline that merely +please and captivate the eye. + +Here, in our Britain of the South Sea, we have abundance and variety of +the most glorious and splendid scenery. So far as wild nature is +concerned, there is nothing in Europe that we cannot match. Our Alps +might make Switzerland envious; one or two of our rivers are more +beautiful than the Rhine; the plains of Canterbury are finer than +midland England; the rolling ranges and lakes of Otago may bear +comparison with Scotland and with Wales; Mount Egmont or Tongariro would +make Vesuvius blush; the hot-spring region of Rotomahana and Rotorua +contains wonders that cannot be matched between Iceland and Baku; and +here in the North our forest country is grander than the Tyrol, and more +voluptuously lovely than the wooded shores of the Mediterranean. At +least, that is what those who have seen all can say. + +But, though nature has given us such sublime triumphs of her raw +material, these have no history, no spirit. They tell to us no story of +the past; and poetry has not crowned them with a diadem of romance. +Hence their effect is partly lost, and when we New Zealanders go "home" +for a trip, we find a charm in the time-hallowed landscapes of the Old +World, above and beyond all our greater scenic glories here. + +Still, here and there in this new land, we have contrived to invest some +special spot with a kind of infant spirit or baby romance of its own. +Here and there our short history has left a landmark, or Maori +tradition a monument. Already we are beginning to value these things; +already we are conscious of the added interest they give to our scenery. +But to our children's children, and to their descendants, some of these +places will speak with more vivid earnestness. They will appreciate the +stories that as yet are so new, and will take a rare and lively pleasure +in the scenery enriched by the tale of their pioneer ancestors, or by +legends of the native race that then will be extinct. + +New Zealand has even now what may be termed its "classic ground," as +will be found in another chapter. But there exists a great deal of Maori +tradition connected with various spots, and some of us do the best we +can to preserve the tales that adorn certain localities. Some of the +legends are mythological. Of such sort is that which gives such vivid +interest to lonely Cape Reinga; the place where the spirits of dead +Maori take their plunge into the sea, on their way from earth to the +next world. Such, too, is the dragon legend, the tale of the Taniwha, +which graces the volcanic country in the interior. + +Besides these are the numerous stories of a more historical sort, +incidents of love and war, which hang around the places where they +happened. A country like this, so rich in natural beauties, so filled +with the glories and magnificences of the Creator's hand, is surely-- + + "Meet nurse for a poetic child." + +It is not surprising, then, that we find the Maori character actively +alive to such impressions. The oldest men absolutely revel in the +abundance of the tales, both prose and poetry, that they are able to +relate about the scenes around them. But Young Maori is more civilized, +and does not trouble his head so much with these old narratives. It is +well, then, that some should be preserved while that is possible. + +Old Colonial is a great hand at yarns. He loves to hear himself talk, +and, in truth, he can tell a tale in first-class dramatic fashion. +O'Gaygun and Dandy Jack are both given to the same thing a good deal. +They run Old Colonial pretty close in all respects save one, and that is +when he gets into a peculiarly Maori vein. There they cannot follow him, +for neither has achieved his command over the intricacies of Maori +rhetoric, nor has that intimate experience of the natives, which enables +Old Colonial to enter so thoroughly into the spirit and character of +their narrations. + +As I know that Old Colonial's hands are more accustomed to the axe than +to the pen, and that he will never take the trouble to give his +wonderful collection of anecdotes to a larger audience than his voice +can reach, I have made notes of his narratives, and some day, perhaps, +shall put them in print. In the meantime, I may as well mention, that, +it was from his lips that I heard the tale of our show-place. + +One day, some lime was wanted on the farm for some purpose or other, and +it became a question as to how we had better get it. The usual method +employed in the neighbourhood was to utilize oysters for this purpose. A +rude kiln would be constructed in the bank, where it sloped down to the +river-beach. In this would be placed alternate layers of dead wood and +of living oysters, with a proper vent. The burn usually resulted in a +fair supply of good shell-lime, than which there can be no better. + +But on this occasion we wanted a tolerably large quantity of lime, so +that there were objections to the plan I have just detailed. For though +oysters abounded on our beach, and covered the rocks that low-tide laid +bare, yet, when a good many tons of them were wanted, all of which must +be gathered with a handshovel and carried on men's backs to the kiln, it +became evident that a considerable amount of labour must be undergone +before our ultimate object could be attained. + +Now, one of the first and chiefest considerations of the pioneer-farmer +is always how he may most closely economize time and labour. It is +particularly necessary for him, because of the scarcity of the latter +commodity, and the consequent pressure upon the first. It is usually a +strictly _personal_ question. + +On this occasion the subject was debated at one of our nightly +parliaments in the shanty. Then the Saint broke out with one of those +quaintly simple remarks that used to amuse us so much. He said-- + +"I don't think it can be right to burn oysters, you know. It must hurt +them so awfully, poor things!" + +Of course, we all laughed long and loudly. It seemed too ridiculous to +consider the possibilities of an oyster feeling pain. + +"Well done, Saint!" was the general exclamation; "that's a good excuse +to get yourself off a job of humping over the rocks." + +The Saint flushed up, and proceeded argumentatively, "Look here! +Wouldn't it be better to burn dead shells?" + +"F'what did shells is it, me dear?" asked O'Gaygun, in a wheedling tone. + +"Well, there's plenty on Marahemo, for instance." + +Marahemo, I may mention, is a hill about three miles back from the +river. It is about one thousand feet high, I suppose, and lies behind +our land. + +"Did ye ivver hear the loike av that, now?" roared O'Gaygun, +boisterously. "Here's the bhoy for ye! Here's the bhoy that's afraid to +ate an eyester fur fear av hurtin' the baste, an' that's goin' to hump +Marahemo down to the farrum, aal so bould an' gay! Shure now, thim's the +shouldhers that can do that same!" + +After a brief, friendly passage of arms between the two, the Saint +continued hotly-- + +"Well, all I can say is, it seems to me more sensible to burn our lime +on Marahemo and to hump it down here, than to hump oysters along the +beach, and then have to hump the lime again up from there." + +"By Jove!" broke in Old Colonial, "the boy's right, I believe. Shut up, +you Milesian mudhead, and listen to me. Right from the old pa on the top +of Marahemo down to the very foot, there's the Maori middens: a regular +reef of nothing but shell, oysters and pipi and scollops and all the +rest. There must be hundreds and hundreds of tons of pure shell. All +we've got to do is to make a kiln near the bottom and shovel the shell +into it; and there's any amount of firewood, dead stuff, round about." + +"Well, but look at the long hump from there down to the farm." + +"I know; but won't it be simpler to do that than to collect oysters on +the beach? We should have to hump treble the weight of the lime we +should get after burning them. And then we should have to hump the lime +at least half a mile up from the beach. There is a track through the +bush up to Marahemo, and we could easily open it a bit. Half a day's +work for the lot of us would make it passable for a bullock-sled; or we +might pack the lime down on some of Dandy Jack's horses. Then the stuff +we should get there would be easier burnt and make better lime. And we +could make enough to supply the neighbourhood. A few boat-loads sold at +a fair price would pay us for our work, and we should have the lime we +want for our own use as pure profit. If we didn't find a market on the +rivers, I'm certain it would pay to charter a schooner, load her up, and +send her round to the Manukau. Auckland has to get all her lime from +Whangarei or Mahurangi as it is." + +So the thing was settled, and we went to work on Marahemo as +lime-burners. + +One day when we were "nooning," Old Colonial and I chanced to be +together on the top of Marahemo. We were looking at the splendid +prospect, glorious under the mid-day sun. All around us was bush--a +dense jungle of shrubs and trees. The conical hill on which we stood was +thickly clothed, and all round, over the steep, rough ranges, the +abrupt ravines and gullies, with their brawling streams, was spread the +one variegated mantle of gorgeous foliage. + +Since then I have seen certain of the far-famed forests of the tropics, +but I must candidly say that the scenery they offer is, on the whole, +far less striking and beautiful than that of the bush of Northern New +Zealand. The colouring is not so good; in the mass, it is not so +lustrous, nor so varied. The rich flowers are hidden away, so that the +fewer and less gaudy blossoms of our bush are more conspicuous, because +severally more plentiful. But a woodland scene in England, the old home +across the seas, even surpasses all in the glory of its autumn dress. + +From where we stood on Marahemo we could see for considerable distances, +where the ranges did not intervene. Here and there, through some vista +of wooded gullies, we could catch a glimpse of shining river reaches, +and, in one or two directions, could make out the house of some +neighbour, easily distinguishable in the pure atmosphere, though +possibly ten or twelve miles distant. + +Looking towards the west, we could see our own farm. The distance was +just enough to mellow the view softly. The shanty looked neat and tidy; +the grass in the paddocks bright and fresh; the fences appeared regular +and orderly; the asperities and irregularities of the ground were not +seen, even the stumps were almost hidden; and the cattle and sheep that +dotted the clearings might have been browsing on English meadows, so +fair and smooth was the picture. As we looked on our home thus, the +growth of our labour, we realized our independence of the outer world. +And I dare say that, for a moment, "our hearts were lifted up within +us," to use the Scriptural phraseology. + +I believe I was guilty, under the inspiration of the scene, of uttering +some sentimental nonsense or other, in which occurred reference to +"primeval forests," or something of the sort. Old Colonial took me up +shortly-- + +"'Tain't primeval," he said. "There's the heavy bush, the real primeval +stuff," pointing to a well-marked line that commenced about half a mile +further back. + +"No," he continued; "all this round us is only about fifty years old." + +"Only fifty years!" I exclaimed wonderingly, for the woods looked to me +as old as the New Forest, at least; judging by the size and luxuriance +of the trees." + +"Oh, here and there, there are older trees; but half a century ago all +this land was under Maori cultivation." + +Then he showed me the old ramparts that had defended the crest of the +hill. A double bank of earth, now all overgrown with trees and shrubs, +not unlike the outlines of ancient British and Roman encampments. On +every point around us similar traces could be found, showing that the +district had been thickly inhabited. As the Maoris had no grazing stock +in those days, and no grass in these parts, their lands were solely +spade-cultivations. Some thousands of acres between the Pahi and the +Wairau had once grown their taro and kumera and hue, together with +potatoes and other things introduced by Captain Cook. + +Marahemo Pa was the capital of the district. Its position, occupying the +crest of a sugar-loaf hill, defended by earthworks and stockades, must +have made it seem impregnable to people unacquainted with artillery. The +space enclosed was considerable; and the immense quantities of shells +thrown down the sides of the hill attested the numbers of its +population--for all the shell-fish would have to be brought up here on +the backs of women and slaves from the beach, which is over three miles +distant; and shell-fish was by no means the principal item of the Maori +commissariat. + +"That must have been the way they went," said Old Colonial, looking in a +direction where a strip of the Arapaoa was visible through a gap made +in the ranges by a narrow gully. + +"Who went?" I asked, for I did not follow his thought. + +"Hoosh!" cried he. "Do you mean to say you've never heard the story of +the battle and capture of Marahemo, the tale of Te Puke Tapu?" + +No, I had not heard it. At least, I remembered only some confused +account of a conflict having taken place at the latter spot, which, +being our show-place, I had often seen and knew well. + +"Well," said Old Colonial, "there's no time now; but we've got to get +some schnapper for supper to-night, so you and I will go and fish down +the Arapaoa yonder; then I'll tell you." + +In the evening we were sitting in the boat, anchored in the river nearly +opposite our much venerated show-place. We were fishing with line and +bait, diligently securing a supper and breakfast for ourselves and the +rest of the company who make our shanty their home. Every now and then +either of us would pull up a great pink slab-sided schnapper, a +glistening silvery mullet, or a white-bellied whapuka; we were in a good +pitch, and the fish were biting freely. Our minds were relieved from the +anxiety of a possible shortness of provisions. The scenery around us is +truly magnificent, if only it were possible to describe it. I must, +however, try to convey an idea of its outlines. + +We are lying in the Arapaoa Firth, at the point where it loses its +distinctive name and divides into three heads. These three lesser +firths, together with the main creek that flows into each above the +point where the tide reaches, are respectively the Pahi, the Paparoa, +and the Matakohe. + +Our boat seems to be floating in a lake, rather than in a river, for +here the Arapaoa is between three and four miles across. Looking down to +the right we see it stretching away, between bold, high banks of +irregular outline, flowing down to the harbour and the sea thirty miles +off. To our left is our own river, the Pahi, narrower than the other. It +is, perhaps, a mile across at the mouth. Its shores present a +diminishing perspective of woods; and, as mangroves line the beach on +either side, the leafage and the water seem to melt into one another. +Five or six miles up, the ranges rise higher and run together, so that +the beautiful Pahi appears to lose itself in the forest. + +The opposite shore of the Pahi ends in a high bluff that, from our point +of view, appears like an island in the expanse of gleaming water. Round +the base of the bluff are gathered the white houses of Te Pahi township; +and the masts of several small sailing-craft are seen off the beach. +Behind and above is a bold sweep of dark woods, forming a background to +the baby town. + +The township bluff hides from us all view of the Paparoa, which lies +just behind it. But we have a full prospect of the wide reach of the +Matakohe, which has quite a lake-like look. Just within it, on the +further shore, are some low mud-banks, partially covered with stunted +mangrove. Here great flocks of grey snipe continually assemble, together +with kingfishers, shags, wild duck, teal, and other waterfowl. The high +bank conceals all behind it; but in one or two places we catch a glimpse +of some settler's house, cresting the bold bluff, or half hiding in its +orchards. + +And now we face to the east, with the setting sun behind us sending its +rays full upon the central interest of the view, and thus we gaze our +fill upon Te Puke Tapu. A small but deep bay forms a bend in the shore +of the river, guarded by steep heights on either hand. On the left a +long promontory runs out into the Pahi, as though to meet the township +bluff upon its further shore. On the right a towering scaur shows the +abrupt termination of the range behind it. The tide in the Arapaoa flows +swiftly by, but within the bay the water lies smooth as glass. + +Between these two points may be a distance of about a mile straight +across. The curving line of the shore, sweeping round from one to the +other, forms a complete crescent. No rocks or mangroves, no mud-banks or +oyster-beds spoil the effect of a narrow belt of white and glittering +shingle, which lines the beach of the little bay. And right at the edge +of this border-line begins the mingled green of fern and forest. + +The land slopes upward gradually from the beach, rising by regular steps +into a grand semicircle of heights. The general shape is that of an +amphitheatre. And here so rich is the soil, so sheltered the situation, +that all the wild vegetation of the country seems growing with magnified +luxuriance. + +The colouring is brighter and more brilliant than it often is in the +bush; and there is a more extensive mingling of different trees and +shrubs, a more picturesque grouping of forms and tints. There are +emerald feathery fern-trees, copper-tinted "lancewoods," with their +hair-like tufts, the tropic strangeness of nikau palms, crested +cabbage-trees, red birch and white ti-tree, stately kauri, splendid +totara, bulky rimu, dark glossy koraka, spreading rata, and half the +arboreal catalogue of the country besides. + +And, in their several seasons, the blossoms which all the evergreen +trees and shrubs put forth bloom more brightly here than elsewhere; +and, while creepers of strange and beautiful forms twine and suspend and +stretch from tree to tree, the woodland greenery is set with a rich +variety of scarlet cups and crimson tassels, of golden bells or +flesh-pink clusters, or the darker depths are lit up by showering masses +of star-like clematis. + +Terrace above terrace, receding from the water's edge, the encircling +lines of bush rise upwards and away, until at last the leafy mantle +flows over the summit of the topmost range. Far back, and central, in +the wide sweep of the amphitheatre is a sudden dip in the outline. It is +the opening of a little gully, through which a hidden stream comes down +below the trees and babbles out across the shingle; and that opening +just reveals Mount Marahemo behind. His wooded crest has caught the +tinted radiance of the sunset, and stands out in glorious relief against +the purpling background of sky, framed in the glowing beauty of the +nearer Puke Tapu. + +Such is our show-place, the "Sacred Soil," where sleep the departed +warriors of the Ngatewhatua. The bell-bird and the tui sing a requiem +over them by day, while the morepork and the kiwi wail for them at +night. And the wonderful loveliness of this spot, where they fought and +died, might well inspire a Tennyson to pen another "Locksley Hall." + +"Jee--roosalem!" sighed Dandy Jack. "Only put _that_ on canvas, and hang +it in Burlington House, and what an advertisement it would be for us!" + +Old Colonial goes on to tell the tale of Te Puke Tapu, in the intervals +of hauling up schnapper. He says-- + +"The boys call it 'The Burying Ground,' because of the bones and skulls +that are lying about or stuck up in the trees. That's rather misleading, +though, for it was never a wahi tapu, or native cemetery. This bay was +evidently the landing-place or port for Marahemo, and the subordinate +kaingas on the ranges yonder. You can see it was naturally that. As such +there would be constant traffic through it, even if there were no whares +in the place itself. Now a wahi tapu was so sacred that no one but a +tohunga dared to approach its boundaries, even under pain of death and +damnation; so that such a place was always in some very out-of-the-way +locality, certainly never near a spot so much frequented as this would +be. + +"It's tapu enough now, though, and has been ever since the battle, +which, I opine, must have been fought somewhere about 1825. The chiefs +won't sell an inch of this piece to any one; and not a Maori dares go +near it. Lots of people have tried to buy it, and have even offered as +much as five pounds an acre for its magnificent soil; but the Maoris +are not to be tempted, and, what's more, say they'll have utu from any +Pakeha that goes into it. + +"Once, some years ago, I was out pig-hunting, and killed a big one just +on the top of that scaur. The carcase rolled down into the water, and +the tide carried it away down river. It was washed up at Tama-te-Whiti's +place, six miles below this. Now Tama, although he's an ordained parson, +still retains most of the old superstitions, as all the older Maoris do. +He was in a terrible stew when this pig, killed on tapu ground, and +consequently tapu itself, stranded on his beach. His wife and he came +out with long poles and pushed it into the water. Then they got into +their boat, and managed to get the pig out into the channel and set it +floating off again. Afterwards they carefully burnt the poles that had +touched the dreadful thing. Finally, Tama came up to me and demanded +utu, which I had to pay him. If we had not been such good friends, and +if Tama had not been more sensible than the other Maoris, I believe the +district would have been too hot to hold me. + +"Tama told me the whole history of the place; and gave me a graphic +account of the battle, in which he took part. He is one of the 'last of +the cannibals,' one of the few survivors of the old fighting days, +before the missionaries caused the abolition of cannibalism. + +"You know who Hongi was, I suppose? The great chief of the Ngapuhi, who +was so friendly with Marsden and the first missionaries, who went to +Sydney and then to England, was presented to King George and made much +of. When he got back to Sydney, this astute savage 'realized' on all the +fine things that had been given him, and turned the proceeds into +muskets, powder, and ball. Then he loaded up a trading-schooner, +chartering her with a promise of a return cargo of pigs, timber, and +flax, and joyfully sailed back to New Zealand. + +"All his life, Hongi was very friendly to the missionaries, as well as +to traders from Sydney. But the former never converted him. He remained +a ferocious manslayer and cannibal to the last. Yet it was owing to this +chief that missionaries gained a first footing in the country. + +"Hongi's great idea was to make himself king of all New Zealand. In +pursuance of this plan he armed his fighting men with fire-arms, and +when they were drilled in the use of them, he started on a grand maraud +all through the island. His notion of kingly power seems to have been to +kill and eat, or enslave, every other tribe but his own. He certainly +slew his thousands; and utterly depopulated the country wherever he +went. + +"The Ngatewhatua, whose country lay all round these waters, were the +ancient foemen of the Ngapuhi; consequently, they were among the first +to experience Hongi's new mode of civilizing. A great battle was fought +up on the Wairoa, where two or three thousand of our fellows were +discomfited by Hongi's army. The fugitives came down the rivers and +rallied again. Every man of the Ngatewhatua who was able to bear arms, +took up his mere and patu and spear, and went forth to fight for his +fatherland. They fought the invading Ngapuhi all the way down from the +Wairoa, as they marched through the forests between this and Mangapai. + +"But badly-armed bravery had little chance against the superior +equipment of Hongi's bands. Do all they might, the Ngatewhatua could not +stay the progress of their foes. When, at last, the invaders drove them +as near as the Maungaturoto bush, our tribe gave way in despair, and +came back to this place. They had still one hope, one refuge, the +hitherto unconquered Marahemo Pa. + +"Into that pa, then, where we stood this morning, crowded the whole +population of the district--men, women, and children. Here they would +make their last despairing stand. The attack would come from the +north-east, consequently this bay would be in rear; and in it the canoes +were drawn up for flight, if that were necessary. + +"Then Hongi and his ruthless army swept out of the woods, and rushed +upon Marahemo. They surrounded the hill, and, advancing to the +fortifications, poured in a hot fire. Frightful were the losses among +the besieged; and little could they do in return, spears and stones +being their only missiles. Still, they held out for three days, their +crowded ranks gradually thinning and thinning. + +"At last, at daybreak on the third day, Hongi delivered a grand assault. +The Ngapuhi came up in three columns on the eastern slope of the hill, +where the principal gate of the pa was. The two outer flanks +concentrated all their fire on the point, while the centre, headed by +Hongi himself, wearing a helmet and breastplate that King George had +given him, constituted the storming party. + +"The struggle at the gate must have been terrific. At close quarters +fire-arms were no longer of service, and the Ngatewhatua would be equal +to their assailants. Both sides fought with all the fierce courage of +their race. Tama says that the bodies of the slain lay in piles, and +that their blood flowed in streams down the hill. + +"Tuwhare was the name of the ariki or supreme chief of the Ngatewhatua; +he was also a tohunga, or priest. A lion-like old man he seems to have +been, from Tama's description. Seeing that all was lost, when the +conquering Ngapuhi had forced their way into the pa, and were +mercilessly slaughtering men, women, and children, he did the only thing +left to be done. He took from its perch the palladium of the tribe, an +heitiki ponamu, or greenstone image, and, summoning around him the +remnant of his men, together with some of the women, they fled from the +western side of the pa, hotly pursued by the victors. + +"The fugitives came down through that little gully, here to the bay, +intending to take to their boats, and escape down the river. Tama was +among them, and he afterwards concealed himself in a tree, and, thus +hidden, was a witness of the final scene; for a band of Hongi's men had +come along the beach, and had captured the canoes beforehand, so that +retreat was cut off. + +"But a short time was there to consider what should now be done. The +pursuing Ngapuhi were close at their heels. The sacred tiki was placed +in the branches of a tree for safety. And as the yelling and elated +victors came bounding down the gully, brave old Tuwhare and his +remaining warriors, with mere in hand and war-cry ringing through the +woods, hurled themselves against the foe. Overpowered by numbers, and +by superiority of weapons, the grim fight was soon over, and the last of +the Ngatewhatua were slain. But, beside their bodies, many a Ngapuhi +corpse showed that the vanquished had died as warriors should. + +"The Ngapuhi who had slain Tuwhare, cut off the dead chiefs head, and +placing it in the nearest tree, rushed back towards Marahemo to summon +Hongi. Now Hongi was brave as man could be, but, like all Maoris then, +he was intensely superstitious, and held all the Maori gods and devils +in the very highest respect. + +"Hongi and his principal warriors were led across the field of battle by +the lucky slayer of the Ngatewhatua chief, in order that they might +insult and taunt Tuwhare's head, as was their custom. When they were all +assembled round the tree, with the bodies of the dead lying about where +they had fallen--'There! that's the place, to the left yonder, where the +koraka trees are thickest!'--the branches were drawn aside to expose the +grim trophy of the conquered chief. There it was, sure enough, just +where the victor had put it, fresh and gory, with its white locks and +richly tattooed features. But, oh, horror of horrors! right above the +head, with all its hideous fluttering adornments of feathers and +tassels, was the horrible, grotesque, and grinning idol! + +"Chance had led the slayer of Tuwhare to put his head into the self-same +tree where the dead ariki had, a short time previously, disposed the +tiki. There it now appeared, stuck in a fork, just where he had put it +for safety. None of the Ngapuhi knew how it had got there, and to their +superstitious minds it seemed to have come by supernatural means. And +this thing was tapu in the most deadly degree. + +"The mighty and terrible Hongi trembled and shrieked when he saw the +unlooked-for wonder. He and his men turned and ran out of the +amphitheatre of the bay as fast as they could, shouting, 'Te tapu! te +tapu! The gods have taken to themselves the bodies of the slain!' + +"So they left this part of the battle-field, not daring to carry off the +bodies as usual for a cannibal orgy. A long time afterwards, Tama, and +certain priests of the almost exterminated Ngatewhatua tribe, ventured +to return here. With much solemn karakia and propitiatory sacrifice, +they tremblingly crept into the precincts of the bay. They placed the +remains of their kindred in the forks of the trees, and hid the sacred +tiki for ever from mortal eyes. Then they departed, and the aegis of a +holy place invests for posterity Te Puke Tapu. + +"It is a charnel-house if you like, under those trees there, but a very +beautiful one as is evident. We ought to keep alive the memories that +make the place romantic. It would be a pity if utilitarian axe and fire +were to spoil the beauty of Te Puke Tapu. There is plenty of other good +land to be had. No need for us to covet this, fertile as it is; no need +to make a commonplace farm out of that picturesque old battle-ground. +May it long remain just as it is now--a lovely natural monument to +ancient Maori valour, a quiet undisturbed resting-place for the warrior +dead, the patriot chivalry of the Ngatewhatua!" + +Such is our show-place and its tale. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +OUR NATIVE NEIGHBOURS. + + +A great friend of ours, and a near neighbour, is Tama-te-Whiti, the old +Maori. He is not _the_ chief of the Ngatewhatua, but as he comes of the +royal stock he is _a_ chief. He belongs to the caste styled tana, or +chieftains, a degree above that of rangatira, or simple +gentlemen-warriors. In the old feudal times--for the ancient Maori +system may be so designated--Tama would have held a delegated authority +over some portion of the tribe, just as a Norman baron did in the elder +world. + +Now the tribe is very small, having been almost exterminated by the +Ngapuhi fifty years ago. Three or four families form the section over +which Tama presides. But civilization and European colonization have +abolished the old order of things, so that even a head chief's authority +is now more nominal than real. + +In his youth Tama was a warrior, having taken part in the battle which +ended with the affair at Marahemo, as described in the previous chapter. +A fugitive from his own district, his hopes of one day becoming a lordly +ruler over some large kainga of his own being shattered by defeat, he +fell in with Samuel Marsden, and by that Apostle of New Zealand was +converted to Christianity. + +So now, in his old age, Tama is a worthy exponent of the new +dispensation. Born to warfare, he is now an ordained deacon of the +Anglican Church; instead of cannibalism, he has taken to thrifty +farming; instead of fighting, he preaches among his countrymen; instead +of leading a ferocious taua, he finds himself the venerated pastor of a +little community of earnest Christians. + +Tama's place is some seven or eight miles away, down the Arapaoa. He has +a very comfortable little kainga, a fenced-in enclosure, wherein are +raupo whares built in the best styles of Maori architecture, with little +verandahs in front of them, and curiously carved doors and fronts. + +Here reside Tama and his wife, and one or two others; while just across +the river is a larger kainga, where live the remainder of Tama's flock. +Round about his whares is a plentiful clearing, whereon are to be seen +pigs and poultry, a few cattle, and a horse or two. On a well-selected +hill-side close by are his cultivations--some few acres of maize, +potatoes, kumera, melons, taro, fruit-trees, and so on, surrounded by a +strong stake-fence. A few yards below the kainga is the beach, where a +capital boat shows that Tama prefers Pakeha workmanship to the native +article--a canoe that also lies near. Nets and other matters prove that +he reaps a harvest in the water as well as on land. + +A very "comfortable" man is our Maori friend, for he has a claim over +many hundred acres of good land around, some of which has already been +sold to the Pakeha. Much of this is heavily timbered with valuable kauri +and puriri. Bushmen cut on his land to a small extent, and pay him a +royalty of a pound per tree. We often say, jokingly, that the old fellow +must have a tolerably well-filled stocking somewhere. + +Tama is amazingly industrious. He and his wife together get through an +immense amount of work. The produce of the farm is amply sufficient to +provide them with all necessaries. More than that, the surplus produce +probably pays for all the groceries, tools, and clothes required by the +family. His seventy years weigh lightly on him. He is as strong and +active as most men of forty, and is never idle. He fully understands the +duty that devolves on him of setting an example to his flock, as well +as of preaching to them. + +Tama's ordinary costume is much the same as ours, except that he prefers +to go barefooted. On Sundays and occasions of state he dons the black +cloth and white choker of an orthodox clergyman; but even then he avoids +boots. Only on very special occasions, such as when there is a grand +gathering at the township, or on the rare occurrence of an English +clergyman's visit, only then does Tama put on boots; even then he brings +them in his hand to the door of the place of meeting, puts them on +before entering, and takes them off with evident relief directly he +feels free to go. + +Tama is about five feet ten inches in height. He is broad and square, +very muscular, and without an inch of fat on him. His body is long and +his legs short; the usual Maori characteristic. His face bears the +elaborate moku that denotes his rank, and is without hair. The hair of +his head is grizzly; but his features, the shape of his head, and the +expression of his eyes, bespeak an intelligence superior to that of many +Europeans who come in contact with him. + +Tama visits us very frequently, and often brings his wife with him. She +is a pleasant, buxom body, with a contented smile always on her face. +Though not young, being probably between thirty and forty, she has not +yet grown at all hag-like, as Maori women generally do. She dresses +cleanly and nicely--cotton or chintz gowns being her usual wear--but she +leans to an efflorescence of colour in her bonnet, and has a perfect +passion for brilliant tartan shawls. I think I once saw her at the +Otamatea races in a blue silk dress. But, both she and her husband have +discarded all the feathers and shells and pebbles that are purely native +adornments. + +Astute and intelligent as Tama really is, it is, of course, to be +expected that he cannot comprehend all the novelties of civilization. +His deportment is always admirable, and he would carry himself through a +drawing-room without any sensible _gaucherie_. He would be calm, +composed, and dignified among any surroundings, however strange to him; +only his keen and roving eyes would betray his internal wonder. Like +Maoris in general, he is critically observant of every little thing +among his Pakeha friends, but, with true native courtesy, endeavours to +hide from you that he is so. But the extraordinary mixture of grave +intelligence and childish simplicity in him is perpetually leading to +very quaint little incidents. + +One day, when routing among the "personals" I had brought with me from +England, I discovered at the bottom of my chest an umbrella. Now, in +England, I suppose most people consider an umbrella as quite an +indispensable article of attire, and even in colonial cities its use is +by no means uncommon; but I need hardly say that in the bush such a +thing is never seen. + +I brought out my relic of other days, and displayed it to the boys in +the shanty. It was received with great applause, and I was unmercifully +chaffed. It pleases our community to regard all the comforts and +luxuries of a more complete civilization as effeminacies; and it is the +received theory among us that we live the purest and highest life, +having turned our backs upon all the corrupting influences of an effete, +old world. + +There is among us a party, headed by O'Gaygun, who take the position of +ultra-conservatives; the object of their conservatism being the keeping +alive of all the most primitive usages of the bush. To them anything new +is an insult; the introduction of imported comforts and appliances a +horrible iniquity. It will be remembered how fierce was O'Gaygun's wrath +on the occasion when forks and spoons were brought into the shanty. Now, +his sublime indignation was roused to the utmost at the spectacle of +such an outrageous incongruity as an umbrella, in the pure and holy +atmosphere of our shanty. An umbrella! Did it not convey an instant +recollection of all the worst emasculating tendencies from which we had +come out? Why, it was almost as bad as that acme of horrors, a +chimney-pot hat! + +"Smash it! Burn it!" he shouted. "Mother av Moses! f'what nixt?" + +However, it was eventually decided that I should give the umbrella to +old Tama, it being a handsome one, with carved ivory handle, silver +mounting and crest, etc. This would ensure the removal of the obnoxious +invention from the shanty; and, moreover, so O'Gaygun declared, the vile +thing would be an acceptable addition to a museum of Pakeha curiosities, +which, he said, Tama was collecting. + +The next time that Tama visited us I formally presented him with the +umbrella, giving him the minutest instructions concerning the spreading +and furling of it. He had taken a strong fancy to me; and was much +pleased with the gift. His first inquiry was, naturally, what I expected +to get out of him by such a splendid gift. Knowing that it would be +futile to attempt to persuade him that I gave the thing freely, and +without expecting any return, I said that, although the umbrella was +worth a mere ponamu,[6] at least, yet that I should be satisfied if he +would give me a kitful of taro in exchange. + +This thoroughly jumped with the old man's humour. Not only did he shake +hands with me, but he also accorded me the nose salutation. The rubbing +of noses is now disused; and when a Maori confers it on a Pakeha it +means an extra display of feeling, almost a making brotherhood. It was +the highest honour old Tama could pay me. + +I thought I had fully explained to the reverend gentleman the uses of an +umbrella. I had over and over again hammered into him that it was meant +to protect one from rain. But it appears that the idea failed to reach +his mind. + +When Tama left the shanty it looked threatening to rain, so I unfurled +the umbrella, and placed it open in his hand. He stumped off proudly +with it held above him. We watched him go down the clearing towards the +river, where his boat was moored. Presently it came on to rain in +earnest. Then Tama seemed to hesitate, it evidently occurring to him +that something was wrong. In an undecided sort of way he inverted the +umbrella, and held it handle upwards in front of him; but as the rain +came thicker and faster, even this seemed unsatisfactory. + +At last he stopped altogether, having apparently come to the conclusion +that the wet would injure the umbrella. After a prolonged struggle, for +the catch was a mystery to his unaccustomed fingers, he managed to +close it. Then he took off his coat, laid it flat upon the ground, and +placing the umbrella upon it, wrapped that up in the coat. Lastly, he +cut some strips from a flax-bush close by, and carefully tied up the +parcel. Then he put it under his arm, and marched off in his +shirt-sleeves contentedly, evidently feeling that he had got the better +of the pouring rain. + +Tama keeps the umbrella stowed away in the recesses of his whare. He +often tells me, with a quiet, good-humoured sneer, as of one talking to +a child, that it does not keep off the rain. His view is that I, in my +incomprehensible Pakeha way, imagine the thing to be an anti-rain +fetish; a notion which superior Maori wisdom has found to be erroneous. + +I saw that umbrella once again. It was a fine moonlit night, and two or +three of us were rowing up the river on a return from some excursion. On +the way we passed a boat-load of Maoris coming down. In the stern of +their boat sat Tama, and above him he held the umbrella open. As the +boats crossed, he called to me:-- + +"It is not raining to-night. But it is not this thing that keeps it off; +it is God only who does that!" + +And so the good man went on his way, doubtlessly glowing at the thought +that he had fitly rebuked my folly; for, like some other Christians, +though he might retain some superstitions of his own, yet those are +real, and all other people's false. + +On another occasion Old Colonial had been away in Australia. On his +return, Tama and his wife came up to welcome him home again. Old +Colonial had brought back presents for all our Maori friends; and he had +selected for Tama a silver watch, with a gorgeous guard and seals. This +pleased the old fellow mightily; and for three mortal hours did Old +Colonial strive to instruct him in how to tell the time, and how to wind +it up. He thought at last that he had thoroughly succeeded in +enlightening the Maori about his new acquisition. Tama departed with +ill-concealed glee, stopping every now and then, as he went, to listen +to the watch ticking. + +However, the next morning, as we sat at breakfast, Tama appeared, with a +serious and sad expression on his face. He would eat nothing; but, +drawing Old Colonial aside, communicated to him the distressing +intelligence that the watch had _died_ during the night. Without +betraying any amusement, Old Colonial wound up the watch again, and +proceeded to give another lecture on its action to the ancient child. + +He went away apparently satisfied, and much lightened in his mind; but +we began to have a fear that the watch would prove an injudicious +present. The next morning Tama appeared again, with the same sad and +serious aspect, this time complicated with a look of intense puzzlement. +He contemplated Old Colonial's hands as he wound up the watch again and +set it going. This was a total mystery to the old fellow. He said he had +been "doing that" to the watch all night long, talking to it, and +telling it not to die. We opined that he had not succeeded in opening +the case of the watch, but had sat twiddling the key about the outside +of it. + +The same thing went on day after day. Tama began to grow weak and ill. +He was haggard with anxiety, spending his days in listening to the +regular tick-tick of the watch, and his nights in trying to keep it +alive. In vain he sat up with it night after night, holding it in his +hands, caressing it, wrapping it in warm clothes, and laying it beside +the fire, even, so he told us, reading the Bible and praying for it. In +spite of this generous treatment the watch invariably died about five +o'clock in the morning. Then the miserable proprietor had to take his +boat and row up the eight miles of river that lay between his place and +ours. + +At last the old fellow began to get a better idea of the hang of the +thing. He essayed to wind the watch at night, but failed, and in some +indescribable way managed to break the key. Then the charm was +dissolved. Feeling that his health was becoming impaired by his devotion +to this Pakeha fetish, and that consideration finally overcoming his +pride in its possession, he returned the watch to Old Colonial. He said +it was "Kahore pai;" or, as a Scotsman would put it, "no canny." + +Tama keeps the guard and seals to wear on festive occasions. But the +watch, no. He has had enough of such silly things. Henceforth, as +formerly, the sun will suffice him for a timekeeper. That is not given +to dying, nor does it require sitting up with at night and such like +attentions, and it manages its own winding up. + +We have other Maori neighbours besides Tama and his immediate following. +There are several families living on the different rivers and creeks +round about, and with them all we are on friendly terms; with some we +are passably intimate, though with none quite so affectionately at one +as with Tama. Perhaps our next best friends would be found at Tanoa. + +Tanoa is a large kainga on the Otamatea river, and lies about sixteen +miles across the bush from our farm, or somewhat more by the water-road. +It contains a population of two or three hundred; men, women, and +children. This Maori town may be considered the metropolis of the +Ngatewhatua tribe. + +Tanoa is prettily situated, for the Otamatea, though a larger river than +the Pahi, is very picturesque in parts. The kainga lies embosomed in +orchards of peach and pear, cherry and almond, and extensive +cultivations and grass-paddocks surround it. Most of the houses are, of +course, the usual raupo whares, but there are carpentered frame-houses +in the kainga as well. + +A Wesleyan mission has been established in this place for about a score +of years; and an English minister and schoolmaster reside permanently at +it. The former has great influence with his flock, who are fervent +Christians to a man. The latter is bringing up the rising generation to +a standard of education that would put to shame many a rural village of +the old country. + +The ariki of the Ngatewhatua lives at Tanoa. He is between forty and +fifty, if as much, a very tall and very portly personage. He is a great +man, corporeally certainly, and, perhaps, in other ways as well. Arama +Karaka, or Adam Clark in Pakeha pronunciation, has had more English +education than Tama, and is altogether of larger mind. Nevertheless, we +do not feel that we can like him quite so well as our dear old +barbarian. + +Arama rules his little community in paternal and patriarchal spirit. He +understands the Pakeha better than many Maoris; and in most things +accepts the guidance of his friend, the missionary. He carries on +affairs of state in a manner blended of Maori and Pakeha usages. He is, +of course, a politician, and takes a leading part in the local +elections. But he adheres to Maori customs in their modified and +civilized form, and may be called a Conservative in such things. + +Arama has a pet theory, on which he often enlarges in picturesque style +to such Pakehas as he considers as of more than common note. Pre-eminent +among these is Old Colonial. Indeed, our chum is generally looked upon +by the Maoris as a sort of chief among the Pakehas of the district. His +experience and acumen have made him a general referee among the Kaipara +settlers; and, in all important matters, he is usually the interpreter +and spokesman between them and the natives. Moreover, he is now the +oldest settler in the district; that is, he is not the oldest man, but +has been in the Kaipara longer than any other Pakeha, having come here +before any settlement had been made in this part. And so he is an old +and intimate friend of the Maoris. + +To him, then, I have heard Arama discoursing on his project for the +regeneration of the Maori race, talking as one chief among men may talk +to another. For the ariki is thoroughly aware of the gradual extinction +which is coming for his race. He sees and knows that the Maori is dying +out before the Pakeha, and his great idea is how the former may be +perpetuated. + +Says he to Old Colonial, for example, somewhat as follows:-- + +"Oh, friend! What shall be for the Maori? Where are they now since the +coming of the Pakeha? The forest falls before the axe of the Pakeha; the +Maori birds have flown away, and strange Pakeha birds fly above the new +cornfields; the Pakeha rat has chased away the kiore; there are Pakeha +boats on our waters, Pakeha fish in our rivers. All that was is gone; +and the land of the Maori is no longer theirs. God has called to the +Maori people, and they go. The souls of our dead crowd the path that +leads to the Reinga. + +"Lo! the Pakeha men are very many. It is good that they should see our +maidens, and it is good that they should marry them. Then there will be +children that shall live, and a new race of Maori blood. So there shall +be some to say in the time to come, 'This is the land of our mothers. +This was the land of the Maori before the Pakeha came out of the sea.' + +"Oh, friend! send your young men to Tanoa, that they may see our +maidens, and may know that they are good for wives. The mihonere and the +kuremata[7] have taught them the things of the Pakeha. It is good that +we should cause them so to marry." + +Thus does Arama propound his plan for a fusion between the races. Still +more to further it, he proposes to endow certain young ladies of his +tribe with considerable areas of land, in the event of any +Pakeha--_rangatira_ Pakeha--who may be acceptable to the tribe, offering +to marry any of them. We have tried to urge the Little'un, or the Saint, +or even O'Gaygun into some such match; but they are shy, I suppose, and +do not seem to fancy taking "a savage woman to rear their dusky race." +Yet it would be unfair to call the brunette beauties of Tanoa savages. + +_Place aux dames!_ Let us get on to consider the ladies. + +Ema, and Piha, and Ana, and Hirene, and Mehere; there they are, the pick +and particular flower of all that is beautiful, fashionable, young, and +_marriageable_ in Tanoa. Bright and cheerful, neat and comely, pleasant +partners at a bush-ball are these half-Anglicized daughters of the +Ngatewhatua. They can prattle prettily in their soft Maori-English, +while their glancing eyes and saucy lips are provoking the by no means +too hard hearts of Pakeha bushmen. + +Ah! live in the bush, reader! Live and work from month's end to month's +end without even a sight of a petticoat, and then go slap into the +middle of a "spree" at some such place as Tanoa or Te Pahi. Then you +would appreciate the charms of our Maori belles. Under the influence of +music and the dance, supple forms and graceful motions, scented hair and +flower-wreaths, smiles and sparkling eyes, the graces of nature not +wholly lost under the polish of civilization, you would say our Maori +girls were very nice indeed. And so say all of us, _although_ the Saint +and the Little'un and O'Gaygun hold aloof from matrimony--as yet. + +These Maori maidens are not to be thought of as savages. Far from it. +They can read and they can write, in English as well as Maori. They can +read the newspaper or the Bible to their less accomplished papas and +mammas. They can cipher and sew; have an idea of the rotundity of the +earth, with some knowledge of the other countries beyond the sea. They +are fully up in all the subjects that are usually taught in Sunday +schools. They can play croquet--with flirtation accompaniment--and wear +chignons. Oh no! they are not savages. At least, _I_ should say not. + +But far pre-eminent among the young ladies of Tanoa is Rakope. She is +the daughter of Mihake, the nephew and heir of Arama, and who is himself +a great favourite and good friend of ours. Mihake is a jolly, +good-tempered kind of man, very knowing in stock and farming matters, +and a frequent guest of ours. His daughter, as Arama is childless, ranks +as the principal unmarried lady of the tribe, and most worthy is she to +bear such a dignity. + +O Rakope! princess of the Ngatewhatua and queen of Maori beauty! how am +I to describe the opulence of your charms, your virtues, and your +accomplishments? How am I to convey an idea of what you really are to +the dull and prejudiced intellects of people in far-off foggy Britain? +Yet have I sworn, as your true knight, O beautiful Rakope! to noise your +fame abroad to the four corners of the earth, with the sound of shouting +and of trumpets! + +Prepare, O reader! with due reverence, with proper admiration, to hear +of our Maori paragon. + +For she is a beauty, our Rakope; and more, her intelligence amounts +almost to what is genius, by comparison with her companions. You can see +it in her broad, low brow, in her large, clear, liquid eyes, shaded with +their black velvety fringe of lashes. Her features may not be good, +judged by Greek art standards; but what do we care about art and its +standards here in the bush? We can see that Rakope is beautiful, and we +know that she is as good as she is beautiful. + +Her colour is a soft dusky brown, under which you can see the blood +warming her dimpling cheeks. Her figure is perfection's self, ripe and +round and full, while every movement shows some new grace and more +seductive curve. Her rich brown hair reaches far below her slender +waist, and when it is dressed with crimson pohutakawa blossoms, the +orange flowers of the kowhaingutu kaka, or the soft downy white feathers +that the Maoris prize, then it would compel the admiration of any London +drawing-room. And what is it in Rakope's cheeks and chin, and rare red +lips and pearly teeth, that makes one think of peaches and of rosebuds +and of honey, and of many other things that are nicest of the nice? + +Away, away with your washed-out, watery Venuses, your glassy-eyed Junos, +your disdainful, half-masculine Dianas! Away with all your pretended and +pretentious beauties of the older Northern world! We will have none of +them. Give us our Rakope, our Rakope as she is, glowing with the rich +warm colour, the subtle delicacies of form, and all the luxuriant beauty +that is born between the South Sea and the sun! + +And is she not clever? Words fail the schoolmaster when he attempts to +sound her praises; for she has learnt nearly all that he can teach her. +She is the apple of his eye and the crown of his labours. To hear Rakope +sing is to believe in the Syrens; to chat with her and receive her looks +and smiles, to dance with her--ah! + +She is the pet of the tribe. Men and women, girls and boys are never +weary of admiring or caressing or spoiling her. She can coax and wheedle +her father and Arama, mihonere and kuremata alike, to do almost anything +she desires, and through them she may be said to reign over the +Ngatewhatua. She is the delight and darling of all the settlers round. +She is the idyll of our shanty, and our regard for her approaches to +idolatry. O Rakope, Rakope! I hope you will some day marry a Pakeha +rangatira, and endow him with your ten thousand acres; for if you mate +with even an ariki from among your own people, your lot will be but a +hard one when age has dimmed the brighter glories of your beauty! + +There was a spree at the township; an event that had been looked forward +to by everybody for months past. English people are given to associating +the idea of a "spree" with that of a bacchanal orgy. Not so we. With us +the word is simply colonial for a festivity of any kind, private or +public. And whatever may be the primary object of the spree, it is +pretty certain to conclude with a dance. + +On this occasion "The Pahi Minstrels," who had advertised themselves for +long beforehand, were to give a musical entertainment, disguised as +niggers. It is, perhaps, unnecessary to explain who these personages +were, since it will be remembered that our shanty was given to sending +out serenading expeditions. _We_ were the Pahi Minstrels; having +laboriously trained ourselves in a certain _repertoire_, and having been +reinforced by one or two other amateur instrumentalists. + +In the bush a very little is accepted as an excuse for amusement. The +public festivities of our district are confined to two events in the +year--the Otamatea races and the Pahi regatta; so that any addition to +these is received with unanimous pleasure and applause. Our present +intention had met with a hearty reception. + +On the appointed evening, just about sundown and after, there was a +grand gathering at the township. All along the beach boats lay drawn up, +and the number of people walking about made the place seem quite +populous. Of course, everybody was there from our own river, and from +Paparoa and Matakohe besides. There were people, too, from the Wairoa +settlements, from the Oruawharo, even from Maungaturoto and distant +Mangawai. Our hearts sunk into our boots when we saw the prodigious +audience that was assembling to hear our crude attempts at minstrelsy. + +Our Maori friends were there in full force. Rakope, Piha, Mehere, and +the rest of the girls, a blooming band of native beauty, escorted by a +large contingent of their male relatives. All the married settlers round +had brought their wives, and--theme of all tongues!--there were actually +as many as four young single ladies! This was evidently going to be a +spree on a most superb scale. Dandy Jack fairly beamed with rapture, and +the gallant O'Gaygun almost burst with the overflow of his exuberant +feelings. + +The scene of the spree was, of course, to be our Assembly Hall, although +every citizen of Te Pahi township kept open house that night. The +Assembly Hall has been already mentioned, but must now be more +particularly described. + +Although the township is all parcelled out into town and suburban +allotments, yet, for the most part, it remains in its original +bush-covered condition. There is a piece of flat land round the base of +the bluff, and this is all under grass; the half-dozen houses of the +citizens, with their gardens and paddocks, being here. But all beyond is +bush, with a single road cut through it, that leads up and along the +range to Paparoa and Maungaturoto. + +When it occurred to us as advisable to build a hall, and when we had +subscribed a sum for the purpose, a site was selected further along the +beach up the Pahi. Here there is a little cove or bend in the shore, +and, just above it, a quarter-acre lot was bought. This was cleared, and +the hall built upon it. All around the little patch of clearing the bush +remains untouched. A track connects it with the houses on the flat, +about a quarter of a mile off; and the beach just below is an admirable +landing-place for boats. + +The hall is simply a plain, wooden structure, capable of containing two +or three hundred people. The Saint, when describing it in a letter home, +said it was "a big, wooden barn with a floor to it." However, we voted +this statement to be libellous, and cautioned the Saint on the misuse of +terms. The Pahi Town Hall is not to be rashly designated with +opprobrious epithets. Such as it is, it serves us well, by turns as +chapel, court-house, music-hall, and ball-room. + +On the night in question the hall was brilliantly illuminated with +candles and kerosene lamps. The benches were filled with an eagerly +expectant audience, brown and white, who applauded loudly when the Pahi +Minstrels emerged from a little boarded room in one corner, and took up +their positions on the platform at the end of the hall. Then, for two +mortal hours, there was a dismal and lugubrious travesty of the +performances of that world-famous troupe which never performs out of +London. + +But our audience were not captiously critical, and received our +well-meant but weak attempts to please them with hearty pleasure and +vigorous applause; and when we finally took ourselves off down to the +river to wash our faces, every one declared we were a great success, as +they busied themselves in clearing the hall for the dancing that was to +follow. + +It is not my purpose to describe the entire spree. I have merely alluded +to it in order to record one of its incidents, which may fittingly +conclude this brief account of our Maori neighbours; moreover, it is an +illustration of something I said once before about caste and class +prejudices. + +Of the four young English ladies who were present at the spree, three +were known to us as the daughters or sisters of settlers in the +district. The fourth was a visitor from Auckland, who was staying with +some friends in the district, and had come with them to the township. +Miss "Cityswell" I will call her, the name will do as well as another. + +Now, it is the praiseworthy custom of settlers' wives in the bush, to +ask their unmarried lady friends from the city to visit them as much as +possible. There is a dearth of feminine society in the newer districts; +and the most insignificant miss, on her travels from house to house up +country, receives pretty nearly as much homage and attention as did the +Queen of Sheba on her visit to King Solomon. If she be matrimonially +inclined--and, to do them justice, our colonial ladies are not backward +in that respect--she has an infinite variety of choice among suitors +eligible and ineligible. But on that head more anon. + +Every woman is a lady in the bush, and Miss Cityswell was, of course, no +exception to the general rule. We were aware, however, that her father +and mother were of the English peasant class, though he had prospered +and was now an Auckland magnate. She was a fairly educated young woman, +passably good-looking; but her head was evidently turned by the +attentions of which she was the recipient. Certainly, if mannerisms, +affectation, vanity, and dress have anything to do with it, her claim to +be called a lady was a most emphatic one. + +Auckland city people know little or nothing of Maoridom. In fact, the +generations born and bred in Auckland seem to be as ignorant about the +natives as people at home. They never come into contact with them. They +see an occasional Maori in the streets, or perhaps witness a native +canoe-race at the regatta. But as for knowing anything of Maori life and +character, past or present, that they do not. And they are generally +absolutely ignorant of the history of the colony. They are given to +looking on the Maoris much as people at home regard gypsies--as quite an +inferior order of beings, in fact. + +Miss Cityswell was naturally imbued with these notions. She regarded the +Maoris who were present at the spree with sublime contempt and gathered +skirts. During the early part of the evening, she confined herself to +saying that she thought we took too much notice of our native +neighbours. But when it came to the dancing, and when she saw the Maori +girls making ready to take part in it, then the storm burst. + +"Pray, are you gentlemen actually going to dance with those creatures?" + +We intimated, mildly, that such was our explicit intention. + +The lady's indignation was almost too great for words. She regarded us +with mingled horror and disgust, replying-- + +"Well, all I can say is, that I shall certainly decline to dance with +any gentleman who demeans himself by taking one of those brown wretches +for a partner." + +Here was a terrible to-do. Expostulations, explanations, entreaties, all +alike failed to move Miss Cityswell's determination. The matter began to +assume a darker complexion as we thought it over. Under ordinary +circumstances, every gentleman present would consider it his privilege +to lead out the fair stranger for at least one dance, an honour he would +not concede on any account, and would fight and bleed for if necessary. +But now we began to perceive that we were between the horns of a +dilemma. + +An eager and excited group of us withdrew to consider the matter. +Something like _lese majeste_ must be committed either way, that was +apparent. To give up the chance of a dance with Miss Cityswell was to +forego a rare and exquisite moment of ecstasy; and yet, to qualify +ourselves for it, we were required to put an insult upon, and to +neglect, our beautiful Rakope and her sisters. Whatever was to be done? + +Dandy Jack, O'Gaygun, the Fiend, and another, in spite of their +exuberant gallantry, declared themselves firmly for the belle of the +Kaipara, _versus_ her white and more sophisticated rival. Probably, +these gentlemen were actuated by a sneaking expectation that Miss +Cityswell would not be able to hold out against the advances of such +magnificoes as themselves, all night. But the Saint, Yankee Bill, and +Whangarei Jim headed a party who were all for the Auckland lady. Her +slightest wish was to them an absolute law, for that evening, at least. +They would dance with no one else, look at no one else, speak to no one +else, if this heaven-descended apparition so desired it. + +Then there was a party of moderates, represented by Little'un, the +Pirate, Wolf, Dark Charlie, and the Member. These were all for a +compromise of some sort. And at last they were inspired with a plan that +seemed the best that could be done under the circumstances, and that was +finally, after much dispute, accepted as our line of action by all +parties. It was this. Each one of us was to go in rotation and to lead +out Miss Cityswell for a single dance; after that he would be free to +devote himself to all and sundry. No one was to dance with any other +until he had had his turn with the haughty Aucklander. We hoped that +such homage to her would appease her pride; while we relied on the good +sense of all the other ladies, to put our singular conduct down to a +whimsical desire on our part to pay a fanciful attention to a fair +visitor and stranger. + +But there was one factor we had entirely forgotten to reckon. As we were +proceeding in a body back to the hall, we met all the Maori girls coming +out, and a high state of indignation they seemed to be in. Some +officious person had carried Miss Cityswell's dictum to their ears, and +up went all the brown noses in the air as a consequence. _They_ were not +going to stop in the hall to be grossly and gratuitously insulted! No, +thank you! If they were not good enough for Pakeha men to dance with, +they had no further business there! It was time for them to be going +home! + +Here was another nice little mess. All the Maori girls, from Rakope +downwards, were as wrathful as such brown darlings could be. They would +go straight home at once, they said, and never, never again come to a +Pakeha spree! And their masculine friends were siding with them, and +already making for the boats, though, for the most part, indignantly +silent, waiting to see what we would do. + +Several of the Pakeha ladies present tried to pacify the outraged Maori +feeling, but without avail. On the other hand, it appeared that Miss +Cityswell was inwardly somewhat frightened at the turn things had +taken, and at the excitement every one was in. She would not move from +her silly standpoint, however; but when Dandy Jack blandly, and with +many elaborate compliments, proceeded to lay our proposal for compromise +before her, she eagerly grasped at it as an escape from the awkwardness +of the situation. + +So far that was settled, then; but how the Maori beauties were to be +pacified it passed our understanding to conceive. Old Colonial was at +last discovered behind a flax-bush, deep in a discussion on beet-root +sugar-making with a stranger, and wholly oblivious of the row. He was +instantly dragged forward into the light, and every one turned to him as +the one person who could save our honour and our partners. + +When the case had been fully explained to him, Old Colonial's eyes +twinkled with fun. "I see my way to square matters," he said, "but you +must leave me to do it by myself." + +He then went down to the beach, where the Tanoa ladies were sitting in a +group in the moonshine, waiting for the tide to turn before they +embarked to return home. He sat down amidst them, and after some +desultory chat, and flirtation perhaps, he brought the talk round to +Miss Cityswell and her proceedings. + +"Yes, she's a niceish girl," he drawled meditatively, "rather foolish +and ignorant, though, I think. You see, she is a visitor up here, this +Auckland person; and we are bound to be hospitable and attentive, and to +put up with her whims." + +His auditors assented to this, but intimated that _they_ were not bound +to put up with Miss Cityswell's arrogance, and did not intend to. + +"Of course not," returned Old Colonial, with a wave of his pipe-hand, as +he reclined at Rakope's feet; "of course not. But then, you see," and +here he glanced cautiously round to make sure that no Pakehas were +within hearing, "she's not worth thinking about, _not being rangatira_." + +"Oh!" cried Rakope, with round open eyes; and "Oh!" cried Piha and +Mehere, and all the chorus. + +"No," continued he, lazily contemplating a smoke-ring in the moonlight; +"her father and mother were only kukis, or something not far off it, and +she, of course, is not rangatira, not a lady." + +"Oh!" cried Rakope and the others briskly, and joyously jumping to their +feet, "that alters the case. We thought she was a lady, and were +offended at what she said; but as she is not, it does not matter--she +knows no better, and what she says is nothing. _We_ are ladies, and +don't mind what common persons say or do." + +So, back to the hall came the whole body, romping and laughing round Old +Colonial, the acute and wise diplomatist, who had made matters straight +and pleasant once more. And we, standing in a body near the hall, heard +the rippling laughter of the merry band, and saw their white muslin +dresses and bright ribbons glancing among the trees. From within the +lighted hall came the sound of fiddles and of stamping feet. We forgot +all about Miss Cityswell; we left her to the care of Saint and Whangarei +Jim; we forgot the terms of our compromise. We rushed into the bush to +meet our partners, as they came up from the beach, with streaming hair +and eager eyes. And presently twenty couples took the floor--we Pakeha +men and the dusky daughters of the land; and Old Colonial and Rakope +waltzed fast and furiously at the head. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 6: A battle-axe of polished green jade. One of the most valued +of Maori possessions.] + +[Footnote 7: Missionary and schoolmaster.] + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +OUR SETTLER FRIENDS. + + +I think I need hardly say that we are not aesthetic here in the bush. In +point of fact, we have no sympathy whatever with aestheticism or high art +culture. We are, to put it shortly, Goths, barbarians, antithetics, what +you will. The country is not aesthetic either; it is too young yet to use +or abuse intellectual stimulants. There exists among us a profound +contempt for all the fripperies and follies of fashion and civilization. +We hold these things to be wrong--to be a sort of crime against manhood. + +In a measure we are Puritan; not altogether in a religious sense, but in +a moral and social one, certainly. We regard our horny hands with pride, +and talk about "honest labour" with something more than a virtuous glow. +We are apt to be rather down on city foplings and soft-handed +respectabilities. All such people we despise with positively brutal +heartiness. When we read of what is doing in London and Paris we swell +with indignation and contempt. We look upon the civilization we have +come out of as no fine thing. Life is a serious matter-of-fact business +to us, and we hold in stern derision the amenities of more sophisticated +communities. + +I think that we must look upon things at home much in the same light as +the Norsemen of old did upon the frivolities of Rome or Byzantium. The +spirit of O'Gaygun's philosophy pervades the colonial mind a good deal, +and, possibly, we may be prone to cultivate it as a means of stifling +any regrets we may have after the old life. We are very natural men, you +see, very simple and childlike, unused to the artificialities of larger +and organized society. Our characters have been reformed back to primary +essentials; and the raree-show of civilization dazzles and frightens our +primitive nervous systems. We may have our little failings, but we ask +no pity for them from people whom we so utterly scorn, as we do the +denizens of the elder world. Art! Culture! AEstheticism! Bah! Pouf! Away +with all such degrading, debasing, dehumanizing trumpery! We are men of +a harder, sterner, simpler mould than the emasculate degeneracies of +modern England! We are the pioneers and founders of a new Britain, of a +stronger and purer life! + +When describing our farm I gave some hint as to the causes which have +kept us from building a better house hitherto. Some day we shall have +one, of course; or, possibly, we shall have more than one, for some of +our chums have been showing a tendency towards matrimony of late; and if +any of us marry they must have houses of their own, I suppose. We should +need a barrack else, you understand, for families _do_ run large out +here. + +Some of our neighbours live in very comfortable houses; and by visiting +them we are kept from becoming reformed into the uttermost savagery +altogether. Other people had more capital than we, or spent what they +possessed in a different manner. There are those who have laid +themselves out to render their homes more in accordance with the taste +that prevails among--I had nearly written _decent_ people, but will say +worldly instead. They have got nicer domiciles than our shanty; but, +then, it takes a woman to look after things. There must be a mistress in +a house that is to be a house, and not a--well, shanty, let us say. Even +Old Colonial is sensible of that. + +A frame-house here is built upon exactly the same plan as ours, so far +as regard the piles, framework, outside wall and roof; but the plan of +it varies much. Every man is his own architect, or at least that +business lies between him and the carpenter who builds for him. One sees +some very singular examples sometimes. Rows of isolated rooms connected +by a verandah; houses all gable-ends and wings; all sorts in fact. + +A good house will have the outside walls boarded up and down, with +battens covering the chinks, instead of weather-boarding like our +shanty. The inside walls and ceilings will be lined with grooved and +jointed planking, so as to make the house what is styled bug-proof. +There is a broad verandah round the whole or part of the house. There +are brick chimneys inside the house, though, as they are usually an item +of considerable expense, this is not invariable, and chimney out-puts +like ours will be seen not infrequently. There are various rooms, and +possibly an upper storey, which may or may not have a balcony above the +verandah. It is a common practice to have French windows, opening upon +the verandah, instead of doors. + +Such houses can be made very elegant as well as comfortable. They are +painted and decorated with carvings outside, and the inside walls may be +painted, papered, or varnished. Furniture and upholstery of all kinds +is, of course, procurable in Auckland; so that one can have all the +comfort of an English home, if one is able to pay for it. + +Necessarily, the cost of house-building will vary considerably, +according to the style and size of residence. A cottage with two to four +rooms will cost L100, or less. The average price paid for houses in our +district--large roomy houses for prosperous family-men, contracted for +with a carpenter, to build, paint, and thoroughly finish off--runs from +L250 to L500, or something like it. Kauri timber is used almost +exclusively in the North, so that we may say we live under the shadow of +the Kauri pine. + +We keep up the usages of society so far as to pay visits occasionally, +especially to houses where there are ladies. You have got to live in a +country where petticoats are few and far between, where there is not one +woman to twenty or thirty men, as is the case here, in order to +thoroughly appreciate the delights of feminine society. People at home +don't know how to treat a lady; they are too much used to them. Why, +there are actually more women than men in England! + +We treasure our ladies, because they are so rare among us in the bush. +Good creatures they are, these settler's wives. How kind and benevolent +they are to us, to be sure! And how they do delight to "boss" us about! +But we like it, we enjoy it, we revel in it. We would lay ourselves down +for them to trample on us, and be truly grateful for the attention. +That is our loyal feeling towards the married ladies resident in the +district. Conceive, if you can, how much more extravagant is our +gallantry when certain other persons are in question--young ladies whom +the irreverent covertly term "husband-hunters!" + +Those good lady dwellers in the bush--how it does delight them to +promote the matrimonial felicity of others! How they do enjoy +matchmaking! + +Every settler's wife, so soon as she has got over the exclusiveness of +honeymoon happiness, does her best to induce her girl friends from the +city to come and visit her. She is so lonely, she says--poor thing! No +one but her husband, and his neighbours and workmen; her devoted slaves +every one of them, but still, all rough men, you know. She pines for a +companion of her own sex. Oh yes; very much so! It would be a charity, +indeed, if dear Ada or Fanny would come and stay with her a bit. + +Dear Ada or Fanny is only too glad of the opportunity. She did want to +see what the bush was like, for she has never been out of Auckland yet, +except a trip to the hot lakes, or so. In fact, her school-days are +scarcely over yet. And then she is so sorry for her friend's loneliness. +It must be dreadful to be isolated in the bush like that. She will +certainly come and see her. + +So Miss Ada or Fanny packs up her box. Sweet, amiable creature! She +flies to alleviate her friend's hard lot. She constrains her +inclinations, and sets out bravely for the bush, solely at friendship's +call; for, of course, there is no _arriere pensee_ in her mind. Oh no; +how could there be? + +The young lady was not considered exactly a belle in the city, perhaps; +but the bush receives her as an incarnation of Venus herself. Directly +she gets beyond the confines of the city, into the rough, primitive, and +inchoate wilderness, she finds herself elevated to a rank she never knew +before. Coach-drivers, steamboat-captains, hotel-keepers treat her with +a deference and attention that is quite captivating, rude examples of +male humanity though they may be. + +Some settler is introduced, or introduces himself, who is travelling +too. He will be delighted, honoured, to be permitted to act as her +escort. Perhaps he has been deputed by her parents, or by her friend, to +look after her. Whether or no, he almost suffocates with importance if +she graciously accords him permission to act as her courier and footman. + +Other men who are journeying on the roads or rivers somehow become +attached to Miss Ada's luggage. It appears that they are going in the +same direction. They say so, at any rate. They form themselves into a +sort of bodyguard to look after this wonderful visitant. Mysterious +dangers, not to be explained, are darkly hinted at, in order that cause +may be shown for their attendance. They are necessary as porters to look +after her traps, as purveyors to fetch her milk and fruit, and so on. + +Miss Ada may not unnaturally be a little timid at first, but she soon +gets over that, finding that these big, bearded men are a good deal more +timid of her. Some of them actually colour up when she looks at them. +She discovers that she is a wit; her little jokes being applauded +uproariously, and repeated by one of her bodyguard to another. Every eye +is upon her, gazing at her with undisguised admiration; and every ear is +humbly bent to catch the slightest whisper that falls from her lips. +Really, these bushmen are very nice fellows, after all, in spite of +their rough looks. Quite different from the affected young fops of the +city. + +As the young lady journeys onward her train swells, like a snowball +gathering snow. Somehow or other, it seems that the whole district is +meditating a visit to the place that is her destination. And everybody +is so polite to her, so embarrassingly attentive, and so determined she +shall enjoy her trip, that she begins to think the bush is the most +delightful part of the habitable globe; while the scenery grows more and +more enchanting every minute. + +By-and-by the end of the journey is reached. The settler's wife comes +out to meet her guest, while a long procession files up from the river, +actually quarrelling for the privilege of carrying Miss Ada's various +impedimenta. The ladies are embracing and kissing with effusion, to the +manifest discomfiture and perturbation of the crowd, who try to look +indifferently in opposite directions. + +"_So_ good of you to come, dear, to these far away solitudes; so _kind_ +of you, and so _disinterested_, for I'm sure there's nothing here to +attract you in the _least_!" + +"Oh, I think you've got a _charming_ place! And the gentlemen have been +_so_ kind. I didn't mind the journey at _all_, I assure you. And, of +course, I would come to keep _you_ company, you poor, banished thing!" + +Thus do these innocent creatures chatter to each other in their +hypocritical fashion. But the wife just glances slyly at her husband, +and he looks guiltily away at the far horizon; for the dear schemer has +been making a confidant of him, for want of a better. + +And Miss Ada's tail makes itself at home, after the free hospitable +manner of the bush. And the men are received with greater unction than +ever on the part of their hostess; albeit they profess to have called +casually, on some mysterious business or other with her husband. And +they are housed for the night, at least, and to each of them separately +the good little woman finds an opportunity of saying-- + +"Isn't she a sweet, pretty girl? And such a capital manager, I do assure +you. Be sure you come up on Sundays, and every other day you can spare, +while she is with us. It will be so dull for her, you know, coming from +all the gaieties of the city!" + +Rumour flies about the country, apprising it of the fact that a young +lady visitor is stopping at So-and-so's. The district incontinently +throws itself at her feet, and worships Beauty in her person. Each of +the few married ladies round invites the stranger to come and stop with +_her_, after a bit, and to lighten _her_ heavy load of solitude, and +_her_ craving for a companion of her own sex. And Miss Ada finds it +impossible to refuse these invitations; and so the district entraps her, +and keeps her in it. + +What wonder that when she does return to the city, it is only to make +ready for an impending event; for she was really obliged to take pity +on one of those poor bachelors, you understand. And the bush is so +charming! And she will be near her dear friend! And so--it comes about +that there will be one "husband-hunter" the less. + +One season there had been an entire dearth of lady visitors. In our +shanty people were going melancholy mad. The district was losing its +charm for us. We had not set eyes upon any young lady of flirtable +estate for months and months. Old Colonial and the Saint had taken to +making their cattle-hunting expeditions invariably lead them to Tanoa; +where they said they went to talk to Mihake about stock, but where, it +was remembered, too, pretty Rakope and her sisters dwelt. O'Gaygun's +conversation was burdened with constant reference to "purty gurls," whom +he had seen in former days; and he became so violently attentive to the +wife of one of our neighbours, that, we began to think he would have to +be seriously expostulated with. Dandy Jack was restless, betraying less +interest than usual in his personal appearance, and talking of going to +Auckland for a spell. All of us were getting gloomy and dispirited. Our +life didn't seem to be so glorious a one as usual. But relief came at +last. + +One Saturday, the Fiend had been over to the township, taking our weekly +consignment of butter, and bringing back such news as there was, and +such stores as we required. He returned with intelligence that set our +shanty in a ferment. A young lady had come up from Auckland on a visit! + +The Fiend had found a note at the township, left there for our community +generally. It was from the wife of a settler whom we speak of as the +Member. She informed us that her friend. Miss ---- Fairweather, let it +be, was on a visit to her; and she invited us to go there on Sunday, the +next day, and whenever else we could. The epistle concluded with some +adroit reference to the charms and graces of her guest, conveyed in that +vague and curiosity-exciting manner so peculiarly feminine. + +Full parliament of the shanty was instantly summoned, and we proceeded +to discuss the matter. It was decided, without opposition, that we +should accept the invitation, and should spend the following day at the +Member's. Not a dissentient voice so far as that was concerned. The +whole parliament would pay its respects to Miss Fairweather, somehow or +other; no question about _that_. And then we had to take into +consideration the important subject of dress. + +Every one wished to make the best appearance he possibly could, and Old +Colonial peremptorily commanded that we should turn out in our best +attire. But our best was a poor thing. + +The common wardrobe of the shanty was overhauled; and it became evident +that we were worse off than we had at first supposed. Under ordinary +circumstances, not more than two or three of us would require a +go-to-meeting rig-out at one and the same time. Even a full change of +garments was scarcely ever called for by the whole party at once. +Commonly, when going to visit one of our married neighbours, we thought +it enough to clean ourselves a bit and put a coat over our shirts; that +was all. But something more killing was needful on this occasion; and, +to our consternation, we found we had not got a square change of clothes +to go round. + +It was too late to go to the township to buy some additional clothes; +besides, we could not afford such extravagances just then. Three or four +of us might have turned out pretty decently, perhaps, but not the whole +crew. And no one would hear of any plan that might keep him at home. We +would all go, making shift as well as we could. + +All other work was at once put aside, and we were soon briskly at it, +washing out shirts and trousers. A roaring fire was kindled outside the +shanty, for the purpose of quickly drying the cleansed integuments; for, +some two or three were reduced to the temporary necessity of draping +themselves in blankets, _a la_ Maori, while the only clothes they had +were being washed and dried. + +Two of the boys had canvas breeches, that were supposed to be white when +they were clean. Now canvas goes hard and stiff when wet, and is +therefore not readily washed. Our chums were dissatisfied with the +stained and discoloured appearance their nether garments presented, +after all the washing they could give them. Pipeclay was suggested, but +of pipeclay we had none. In lieu of it the boys got some white +limestone, which they first calcined, and then puddled up into a paste +with water. This mixture they rubbed into the fabric of their breeches. + +The effect of this could not be very well made out by firelight, and +next morning there was no time to alter it if it did not suit. However, +the ingenious whitewashes were satisfied. They had what Dandy Jack +called "stucco breeches," which had a dazzling effect at a distance, +certainly. The worst of it was that the plaster cracked and peeled off +in flakes, and that the four whitewashed legs left visible traces upon +everything else they touched. Still, we do not go courting every day, +you know, and some little variation from conventional routine is +excusable when we do. + +We had all to take to tailoring, sewing, mending, and cobbling. +Everything we had was tattered and torn; and had to be patched and +repaired somehow. We could not confront the gaze of Beauty with great +rents in our shirts. This was a fearful business, the materials for +effecting it being exceedingly limited, and our fingers unused to the +work. It was a sight to see O'Gaygun, his philosophy and gallantry at +war with one another, sewing blue flannel patches on a red shirt, and +groaning lamentably over the task. + +Old Colonial officiated as barber, and, one by one, we all passed under +his hands, he himself being operated upon by the Saint. With a pair of +wool-shears, and the relics of the common comb, he clipped our flowing +tresses close to our heads, reducing the unruly touzles to something +like order; and he trimmed our beards to a uniform pattern, such as he +considered was neat and becoming. We did not want to look like savages, +he said. + +Unfortunately, the Saint was not such a good hand at the hair-cutting +business, so Old Colonial looked rather singular, the white scalp +showing in patches among his raven curls. But the boss could not see +this himself, and no one mentioned the matter to him, out of merciful +consideration for the Saint. + +Then Old Colonial manufactured pomatum out of lard and beeswax, scenting +it with lemon-peel and a sweet-smelling leaf. This stuff he styled "Te +Pahi Brilliantine," and with it he plentifully bedaubed our hair and +beards. + +As a customary thing we never dream of cleaning our boots. It is +altogether a waste of time, and it would be entirely useless to do it. +Moreover, our boots are of rough hide, and not adapted for blacking. We +merely scrape the mud off them with a shingle; that is quite enough. +But, on this unusual occasion, it was decreed that we should black our +boots and leggings. The tide would be full when we started in our boat, +therefore we could get on board in the creek; and, not being under the +necessity of plodging through the deep mud that is laid bare at low +tide, we should reach our destination with passably clean feet. + +Blacking we had none, of course; that had to be made. We did not know +exactly how to do it, so we tried various experiments. We prepared +charcoal, and we scraped soot out of the top of the stove. We mixed +these with kerosene oil, and, as some one said there ought to be +sulphuric acid in blacking, we put in some vinegar instead of it. This +mess was held to be the most effective, and was consequently used. Our +foot and leg-gear was ridded of the mud of many weeks, and was smeared +with the newly invented blacking. + +Behold us next morning ready to start! A line of nine ruffianly-looking +scarecrows, under review by Old Colonial, head-master of the ceremonies. +Our shirts are clean, though elaborately embroidered in many colours. +Our trousers ditto. Our boots, whether high ankle-jacks, or lace-ups and +leggings, are black, if not polished. Each man wears a coat. Rather +ragged, rather ancient are these coats, originally of very varied kinds. +But the etiquette of the bush does not demand much in coats. So long as +your shirt is clean and whole, your coat may be a little off colour, so +to put it. People are not so particular about the coat. It is an +excrescence, not an essential garment like the shirt and breeches. + +There is one coat short, but Dandy Jack gracefully waives any claim he +might have had, and goes without. He can well do so. Such is the force +of habit, that, somehow or other, he looks more elegant than any of us. +He is even well dressed, as we estimate that condition. It is +aggravating, because----But no matter! + +There is one garment that has been the cause of introducing "hatred, +malice, and all uncharitableness" among us. It is a coat of brown +hemp-cloth, faced with leather. A coat of English make, with many +pockets, such as sportsmen and gamekeepers wear sometimes. It had been +thought too good to be used, and had been stowed aside in the library. +Such as it is, it is the best garment we have got. After much wrangling +we had to draw lots for it, and, much to his satisfaction, Old Colonial +acquired the right to wear it. + +A box of paper collars had been discovered, so our unaccustomed necks +are all tightly throttled in them. They do not fit, of course, and have +to be fixed up with string and slips of flax; still, the effect is +dazzling. The wet had got into the box, however, and a brown patch +appears on the left side of each collar. This does for a trade mark, or +badge of the shanty. Scarves or neckties we have none, nor any +substitute or apology for them. + +Our newly-cropped and pomatumed heads are thatched with strangely +ancient and weather-worn hats. These are of three general varieties, or +were, when they were new. First, come soft felt wide-awakes, +broad-brimmed and steeple-crowned, now presenting every diversity of +slouch. Next, are hats of the same original shape, made of coarse +plaited straw or reeds, now very much broken and bent. Finally, there +are the remains of one or two pith helmets and solar topees. + +We have striven to make our head-gear look as jaunty and fresh as was +possible. We have blacked the hats or whitewashed them, and have stuck +feathers and flowers in them to give an air of gaiety to our otherwise +sombre and sedate aspect. And thus we stand, while Old Colonial examines +the regiment, giving a finishing touch here and there, where he deems it +requisite. Then he draws back and proudly surveys us, and, bearing in +mind the contrast we present to our customary everyday appearance, he +says-- + +"We shall do, boys! Proceed to victory, my Pahi lady-killers!" + +We have a good distance to go, for the Member's place is fully twenty +miles off; but we have plenty of rowers, and have wind as well as tide +in our favour. Locomotion by water being our customary means of getting +about, we think nothing of the distance, and get over it in fair time. + +The Member's place is a very different style of thing to ours. He has +been some years longer here than we have on the Pahi; and has had plenty +of means to enable him to do as he liked. In former times some of us +worked for him, and we are all very good friends. But it is a year or +two since most of us visited here, and so we are much struck with the +improvement that has been effected since we last saw the place. + +To begin with, we land upon a little wharf or causeway of planks laid +upon piles, which runs out over the mud to low-water mark, and enables +people to land or embark at any time, without struggling through the mud +first of all. For, on all these rivers, mud is the general rule. Shingle +and sand appear in places, and there is often a belt of either above +high-water mark; but below that, and as far as the ebb recedes, is +almost invariably a stretch of greenish-grey sticky ooze. It is in this +that the mangroves flourish, and it contains the shell-fish which the +Maoris largely eat. Our boats are usually built flat-bottomed, so that +they may be readily hauled up from, or shoved down to the water on the +slippery surface of the mud, as may be required. + +The Member's house stands close to the beach, but on a little elevation +just above it. It is placed in an irregularly shaped basin, that opens +out upon the river. Round the basin run low ranges, covered still with +their original bush. But all the undulating extent between them and the +river, some seven hundred acres or so, is under grass or cultivation. It +is all enclosed with a boundary fence of strong pig-proof +post-and-rail, and divided off by well cared for hedges, or wire fences. +There are other and newer clearings beyond the ranges and out of sight, +but here all that is visible is very much trimmer and neater in +appearance than our farm. + +Over three parts of the basin the plough has passed. About one-half is +under wheat, maize, and other crops, while the grass on the remainder +looks wonderfully rich, freed as it is from stumps, drained, and, to a +measurable extent, levelled. Cattle, sheep, horses, and pigs are feeding +in the paddocks. + +We eye the scene with great admiration, and even envy. This is the sort +of thing our farm ought to be, and will be. It is what it might have +been already, perhaps, if we had been capitalists. But then we weren't. + +The Member has got beyond the stage where we are still stuck. He is +scarcely a pioneer farmer any longer. He has made his home, and a +beautiful home it is, though shut out, seemingly, from all the world +beside. The ranges, dark with woods, sweep round the fertile fields, the +river flows below, and beyond it the untouched virginity of forest is +again picturesquely apparent. + +But we are in a hurry to get up to the house, and so we walk at once +from the landing-place. A well-made gravelled path leads up from the +waterside, not straight to the house, which is rather to the right, but +along a neat paling, which encloses the gardens round it. On the left is +an orchard of some extent, within which we see a great many more +fruit-trees than we possess ourselves; they have been grown with care, +and the varied produce of that fruit-yard would be a mine of wealth in +Covent Garden. + +Beyond the orchard, which is divided from the path by a hedge of orange, +lemon, and quince, cut down into a dense shrubbery, we catch a glimpse +through the trees of several labourers' cottages, and some barns or +wool-sheds. The path is shaded by an avenue of fine trees, very large +considering how young they are. Among them may be seen English oaks and +beeches, American maples and sumachs, Spanish chestnuts, Australian +blue-gums, Chinese and Japanese trees and shrubs, tropic palms, and some +of the indigenous ornaments of the bush. + +A hundred yards up this avenue, and we pass to the right through a gate +in the garden paling. There we find ourselves in enchanted ground, for +there is surely no garden in the North, except, perhaps, that of the +Horticultural Society at Auckland, which is superior to this. It is +beautifully laid out, and to us, fresh from the uncouth barbarism of our +shanty and its surroundings, this place seems to breathe of the "Arabian +Nights." And is there not a certain princess within, into whose +seraphic presence we are now entering? We inhale a new atmosphere, and +tread lightly, almost on tiptoe, speaking unconsciously in whispers, and +with the blood running quicker through our veins. + +The Member has money, as I have mentioned, and here, as elsewhere, money +is a magician's rod that will work wonders. To the Member labour and the +cost of it bear other relations than they do to us. He is able to look +on life in a different light, and may expend toil on other matters than +such as are of bare utility. And he has done so, wisely and lavishly, +and so his home is what a home should be in this fair land--an Eden of +natural beauty. + +In this garden there are smooth lawns and dainty flower-beds, winding +walks and blossomy banks, trellised arbours and shady groves. Taste and +elegance are manifest all round us, from the scented rosery to the +well-kept melon-patch. The rich and splendid hues of countless flowers +delight our eyes, while their unwonted sweetness sends a mild +intoxication into us with every breath we draw. We pass up to the house +along a straight, broad path, smooth and white with shell-gravel. The +path divides the garden in a part of its length, and has a hedge on +either side. But these hedges are of ornamental rather than useful kind. +One is of geranium and the other of fuchsia. Here those beautiful +plants, which are guarded so carefully in English conservatories, grow +into trees in the open air. These geranium and fuchsia hedges are +composed of many varieties of both. They are about eight or ten feet in +height, and are constantly and carefully pruned to keep down their too +exuberant tendencies. They are loaded with blossom, while the fuchsia +fruit is a palatable addition to the many dainties of garden and +orchard. + +The house before us carries about it the same air of comfort and ease as +the garden, not to speak of elegance. It is a large villa, similar to +some of the mansions one may see about colonial cities. Of what style +its architecture may be I cannot say. It appears to partake of the +character, externally, both of a Swiss chalet and a Norwegian country +house. + +Of course, the material of the building is entirely kauri timber, with +the exception of the chimneys, which are of brick, and the piles, hidden +from sight, which are of puriri wood. There are many angles, corners, +gables, wings, and outputs, designed for utility as well as appearance. +Round the whole house runs a broad verandah, following the +irregularities of the edifice. Above it is a balcony, forming a verandah +for the upper storey, and the high, steep roof extends evenly over this. +Between the pillars of the verandah is a light rail or trellis, upon +which flowering creepers are twined, passion-flowers, with their +handsome blossoms and refreshing fruit, conspicuous among them. Openings +give admittance from the garden here and there; while light staircases +connect the upper and lower verandahs outside the house. + +There has been some care in the ornamentation and finish; suitable +carvings and mouldings adding beauty to the general design. The walls +are painted white, picked out with green, while the shingled roof, being +coloured red, looks passably like tiling. Altogether, the Member is to +be congratulated on his domicile. It is a very different affair to ours. +It would be honestly called a mansion in any country. + +This is the sort of house _we_ intend to have, we say, as we walk up to +it. And this is the kind of garden we will have round it, too. O'Gaygun +sniffs at the flowers with pretended disrespect, and mutters something +about "taters" being more useful and to the purpose. But even he is a +little quelled by the surroundings, and we hear no more of his barbaric +philosophy for a time. + +Still, mark this, there is an air about the place that makes it +different from so many old-country habitations. You do not feel that you +may look but mustn't touch. You are not reminded that everything is for +show, and not for use. There is no primness in the garden. There is an +honest degree of orderly disorder, and an absence of formality. You do +not feel as if you ought not to walk on the grass for fear of hurting +it. There is no artificiality apparent; no empty pretences whatsoever. + +The house partakes of the same characteristic. It looks homely, and as +if it was meant to be lived in. As we reach the verandah we notice a +saddle or two carelessly slung over the rail; we see a hammock hung in +one corner; and some clothes drying on lines in another. A couple of +colley dogs come barking to meet us from their kennels on a shady side; +and various other slight details betoken that we are still in the +unsophisticated bush. + +We tramp heavily along the verandah, a formidable gang of uncouth +barbarians. Old Colonial, at our head, gives a gentle coo-ee to intimate +our arrival. Then out pops our hostess from somewhere. A merry, +bright-eyed little woman is she, such as it does one's heart good to +behold. She comes forward, with two of her children beside her, not a +whit dismayed at the invasion. She gives us a hearty welcome, shaking +hands religiously all along our lengthy line. + +This is one of those women who always make you feel gratified and +contented with yourself and all the world, after you have shaken hands +with or spoken to her. "Magnetic," some people call it. She is every +one's sister, and you feel an instinctive affection for her, of that +sober and yet warm kind which may be termed loyalty. She is queen in the +Kaipara; and all of us think it the greatest pleasure in life to obey +her behests. + +Chatting gaily, our hostess leads us through an open French window into +the drawing-room, and we follow her, with a pleased and yet bashful +sense of expectancy. Into the drawing-room, mark you! and a real +drawing-room, too; not a visible make-believe, like the library in our +shanty. This is a large room, furnished as people do furnish their best +reception-chamber in civilized lands. Pictures hang on the varnished +walls; books and book-cases stand here and there; tables loaded with +knick-knacks, vases of flowers, workboxes, albums, and so forth; chairs +and sofas and lounges; ornaments, statuettes, brackets, and various +etcetera, betoken a life of greater ease than that of our shanty. + +We sit around in an uncouth semicircle, awkward and somewhat ill at +ease, for we feel ourselves a little out of place in that room. One +cannot live the life that we have lived for years past, without feeling +strange and uncomfortable when once again brought within the influence +of refinement. So we look at our boots with a sense that our hobnails +do not match with the white Japanese matting that covers the floor; and +we sit on the edge of our chairs just as other rustics would do at home. +Our hats removed, the results of Old Colonial's tonsorial operations are +made fully apparent. Our hostess surveys us with a puzzled air. I think +she is struggling with a desire to laugh at the quaint simplicity of the +communal wardrobe of our shanty, as it is now displayed on our persons +before her. + +We have been petting the children, and, like other children, these are a +trifle too observant. One of them, who is sitting on Old Colonial's +knee, suddenly becomes aware of the state of his poll, and, pulling his +beard to attract attention, asks-- + +"What made you cut your hair off?" + +Old Colonial looks across at the Saint; and then, catching Mrs. Member's +eye, he and she and all of us go off into peals and roars of laughter. +In the midst of this the door opens, we catch sight of another lady +entering, and we stumble confusedly to our feet. It is _she_! + +Miss Fairweather comes forward, escorted by the Member, and followed by +a straggling crowd of half a dozen men, similar barbarians to ourselves, +who have got here before us. She is a pretty girl, a very pretty girl, +would be considered so anywhere. Here, in her dainty elegance of +costume, to our rude senses she appears almost too beautiful. She +dazzles us altogether; we know no longer whether we are standing on our +heads or our heels. + +We are being severally introduced with all due ceremony. The little +beauty is not by any means disconcerted at the ordeal; she is evidently +used to the position she occupies; used to being regarded with awe as a +superior being by ranks and regiments of bearded bushmen. She receives +our reverential bows with an amused expression in her blue eyes, and +shakes hands with us, one by one, with the air of a princess according +gracious favours to her subjects. And a funny little incident occurs. + +Miss Fairweather remarks to the Little'un that she thinks she has met +him before; in Auckland, probably. Either she is mistaken, or, the +Little'un has forgotten, and is shamefaced. He blushes the colour of +beet-root. His huge frame wobbles in confusion; and, awkwardly trying to +shrink out of sight, as his bashful habit is, he steps backward, and +plants a giant heel upon O'Gaygun's toe. That outraged individual +startles the assemblage with the sudden exclamation, "Gosh!" +Endeavouring to extricate himself, he lumbers against the Saint and Dark +Charlie, whom he sends flying into a centre-table. The table overturns, +of course, and Dark Charlie's short, thick person sprawls and flounders +heavily over it. + +The ice is now thoroughly broken. The ladies fall into seats, fairly +screaming with laughter, and all of us, except the unlucky ones, begin +to feel more at home. Then Mrs. Member tells her friend all sorts of +wild legends about our shanty, such as obtain among the feminine public +of the district. She says we are just a pack of overgrown schoolboys, +who are rapidly turning into absolute savages. And they banter us +deliciously to their hearts' content. + +But we are not noisy visitors, you know, on such occasions as these. On +the contrary, the ladies do most of the talking, as some of us are +absolutely tongue-tied. We can do nothing but sit and gaze at the young +lady in our midst with all our eyes. She is a houri straight from +Paradise, and we poor mortals just get a glimpse from beyond the gate, +as it were. + +Then more arrivals keep dropping in by twos and threes, neighbouring +settlers and chums of ours. So at last a circle of some thirty more or +less rough-looking men form a court about those two ladies. Then we go +to dinner in another room. Most of us dine chiefly off Miss Fairweather, +devouring her with our admiring gaze, listening enraptured to her chat, +and pulsating with wild joy if she do but smile or speak to us +personally. Many can hardly eat anything; they are too love-sick +already. + +After dinner our shyness has disappeared, and our native manhood +re-asserts itself. The men of the Pahi must not be cut out by rivals +from other rivers. They must do all they know to find favour in those +beautiful eyes. We go strolling about the place in little knots, +admiring the garden, eating fruit in the orchard, visiting the paddocks +to see the stock and the crops, and generally enjoying ourselves after +our manner. + +Each of our ladies has a little group around her, which goes off +separately. The component parts of Miss Fairweather's immediate train +may change from time to time; men may come and men may go, as it pleases +her; but the gallant O'Gaygun, the devoted Dandy Jack, the obliging Old +Colonial, and the fascinating Fiend are ever hovering around her, +deferent, attentive, and adoring. Whether she is strolling or sitting, +walking or talking, one or all of them seem to be by her side. They will +not leave the field open to their numerous rivals, not for one minute, +if they know it. + +How it was managed I cannot tell, but I have the fact on the best +authority, Mrs. Member's in good sooth, that something happened very +much. That is to say, my informant tells me that the young lady +received no less than sixteen distinct proposals of marriage that day, +nearly all of which were renewed on subsequent occasions. It can only +have been for the barest fraction of a minute that any gentleman could +find himself alone with her. But, whenever any one did get the chance, +he must have jumped at the opportunity. + +You see, it is the custom of the country, of the bush at all events. We +have no time for courting, scarcely any opportunity for it. We propose +first--marry first if we can--and do the courting afterwards. We have to +be spry about these things if we ever intend to get wedded at all. It is +the result of competition. A great many men are hungering and yearning +for wives, and there are very few girls for them to choose among. So +matches are made without very extensive preliminaries. The ladies appear +to like this celerity. Perhaps they are unwittingly philosophic, and +reflect that, with months of courting, they can really know little more +of a man than they did the first hour they met him, because he is +naturally on his best behaviour then. Marriage is a lottery any way you +can work it. It is only afterwards that each partner can obtain a true +knowledge of the other. And I am bound to say that you will not find +better wives or better husbands anywhere, than you will in the bush. + +So, as I have said, Miss Fairweather received sixteen offers that day. +In point of fact she took all hearts by storm. Not a man in the Kaipara +who would not have laid down and died for her. Not a bachelor among us +who would not have felt exalted to the seventh heaven if he could have +won her for his wife. But I dare say no more on this topic, and no more +about the dear little beauty either, lest the too fortunate and +ever-to-be envied gentleman, who now calls himself her husband, should +come after me with his stock-whip. + +When the sun has set and evening has come, supper over, we sit in the +lamp-lit drawing-room, enjoying the sweet intoxication of the ladies' +presence. Or we lounge on the verandah outside the open windows, +listening to the chat within, hearing around us the whispers of the +forest, or the ripple and risp of the moonlit river, gazing at the +profound shadows of the wooded ranges opposite, and inhaling the +fragrant sweets of the sleeping garden. Peaceful and silent is that +starlit night in the bush. + +Then, it being Sunday, the Member gives us service. And as the piano +sounds, and we all join in singing the 23rd Psalm-- + + "In pastures green, He leadeth me, + The quiet waters by," + +I think, that to even the most irreligious or most careless among us, +the words, under the influences of our situation, come fraught with +homely inspiration. + +Later, we are rowing back home with the tide. But we carry with us +renewed hope and energy for our daily toil; for we have had, as it were, +a foretaste of what is to be ours, some day, not so very far hence. +We, too, shall have a home like that, as a reward for years of toil and +hardship. And, God willing, it shall be graced for each of us with a +wife like--_her_. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +A PIG-HUNT. + + +It is a beautiful morning in March, when an unusually large party +assembles at "our shanty." The sun is just rising, and is not yet +visible above the sheltering ranges which hem in the central flat that +forms the farm. The sky is cloudless, the air still and fragrant with +the odours of the awakening woods. + +Day-dawn is always the most beautiful time in New Zealand. It is +especially so on this occasion, for a few showers had refreshed the +thirsty earth on the previous day; and to us, as we emerge from our +blankets eager with expectation, all Nature seems to wear a fresher and +more blooming aspect. + +Half a mile below the shanty rolls the river, broad and blue, while the +wooded shore opposite seems scarcely a stone's throw distant. The smoke +curls lazily up from the fire within the shanty, where men are +breakfasting and girding themselves for the fray. + +Outside on the clearings the hum of the crickets is as yet scarcely +perceptible, but a party of turkeys can be seen advancing across the +grass in line of battle, commencing their day's onslaught on the insect +tribes. Cattle and sheep, pigs and poultry, have withdrawn from the +immediate neighbourhood of the shanty, and are assembled in groups at a +respectful distance, wondering and frightened at the unusual gathering +of the human species. + +For with the sun come settlers and Maoris from all sides, some brought +by boats and canoes upon the river, some galloping on horseback along +the beach, others on foot struggling through the woods and across the +ranges on either hand, all converging upon the shanty with shouting +salutations, that are responded to with loudly demonstrated welcome. + +A rough and wild-looking assemblage we are, I make no doubt, yet fitting +well into the foreground of the scene, with its rude and incipient +civilization insulting the dominant wildness of Nature all around. Long +before the sun has had time to climb above the ranges our muster is +complete, and a larger party assembled than a stranger would imagine it +possible to gather from so sparsely populated a district. Some thirty, +settlers and their workmen, are there, together with about twice as many +natives. + +All are equipped for the hunt in the lightest possible marching +order--shirt, trousers and belt, boots and leggings, with an apology for +a hat to crown the whole--such is the costume; a sheath-knife and +tomahawk the weapons; with a store of food, tobacco and matches, to +provide against all emergencies--such is the provision. Our native +allies are attired in much the same guise, only slightly more ragged and +dirty--if that be possible--and, generally speaking, barefooted. They +are in a state of suppressed excitement, shown by their gleaming eyes +and teeth, and in their wild exclamations and gestures. + +And I must not forget the most important members of the hunting +party--the dogs. Some two dozen have been collected for the occasion, +most of them belonging to Maoris; of no particular breed, but all large +and heavy, strong-jawed and supple-limbed animals, wolfish-looking +fierce creatures, but all more or less trained to the work before them. +Good pig-dogs are not easily met with, and in the bush they are esteemed +a prize. Our lot are a scratch pack, made up of any that can be induced +to seize a pig, and have weight sufficient to hold on to him; a few are +thought to be more experienced and capable. + +The men, on assembling, mostly go into the shanty to get some +breakfast, in the shape of tea, bread, smoked fish and pork, and then +straggle about the place, smoking, chatting, and waiting for the order +to start. Picture the rough grassy slopes, covered with the standing +stumps among the new grass, the rude shanty in the middle of the lower +ground, as I have described it, the background of bush-covered heights, +with the sun just coming up from behind them into the brilliant sky; and +people this scene with the groups of men--Maori and Pakeha, uncouth in +appearance as the shaggy cattle that are looking on from a corner of the +clearing, or as the clumsy-looking but savage dogs that roam about, or +are held in leash by their owners. Such is a "meet" in the bush. + +"Rather a different affair from the last meet of the Pytchley that you +and I rode to," remarks one brawny, blue-shirted and ankle-jacked giant +to another, as they squat on a log, comfortably enjoying an early whiff +of "Venus" from their short, black clays. + +"What would they say at home, if they could see us now?" replies his +friend, pushing back the battered relic of a "topee" from his unkempt +hair and somewhat dirty face. Truly, the pair would scarcely appear to +advantage in an English huntingfield, in their present trim. + +And now, while the last preparations are being made for the start, let +us see what it is we are about to attack. The New Zealand wild pig of +the present day is the descendant of animals introduced by Captain Cook +and other of the early voyagers from the old countries. These people +gave pigs to the natives with whom they opened intercourse, and the +Maoris, not being used to live stock, lost a good many of their new +acquisitions, which ran away into the bush and easily eluded pursuit in +its dense coverts. Here they bred and multiplied to such a degree that +immense droves of them are now to be found in all parts of the islands. +In the fern-root and other roots of the bush they find an endless supply +of food, which, if it does not tend to make their meat of good quality, +at any rate seems to favour an increase in their numbers. + +Whatever may have been the original breed of these animals, the present +representatives of the race are neither particularly good-looking or +useful. They are lank and lean, with large heads and high shoulders, +narrow, spiny backs sloping downwards to the short hind legs; hams they +have none. They are thickly covered with bristles, and are mostly black, +brown, and grizzled in colour. The mass of them are not large, but the +patriarchal boars attain a great size, some of them standing over three +feet in height. These fellows have enormous tusks curling on each side +of their massive jaws, sharp as razors and strong as crowbars. + +Wild pigs are usually shy, and keep well out of the way of human +invaders of their solitudes; but boars have occasionally been known to +"tree" some incautious wayfarer, while, when hunted, they become +exceedingly ferocious. One of our stockmen, out riding on open ground, +was attacked by a boar that suddenly rushed upon him from a thicket; his +horse was ripped up in a moment, and he only escaped by nimbly climbing +into a tree that was fortunately near. + +In hunting the pigs it is necessary to go afoot, on account of the +density of the bush, and accidents sometimes occur. Some dogs are sure +to be killed; while now and then a too rash hunter may get the calf of +his leg torn off, and might be otherwise injured, even fatally, though I +never knew of any case of so grave a nature. + +Settlers regard wild pigs as vermin, only made to be exterminated; and +they have, I think, considerable reason for their hatred. The pigs are +capable of doing a great deal of damage. Fences must be strongly and +closely put up to keep them out, and they must be continually examined +and carefully repaired when necessary; for one rotten stake in a fence +has often been the cause of a loss of great magnitude. In a single +night the wild pigs may devastate many acres, if they once gain +admittance, and destroy tons of potatoes, maize, or any sort of crop. + +But there is also another way in which they are prejudicial to the +farmer, and peculiarly so to the newer settler. I have said that they +are excessively lean and ill-shaped beasts, and I may add that their +flesh is not only very tough, but it also has a strong smell, and a +peculiarly nauseous flavour. The old pigs, both male and female, are +absolutely uneatable in any part, though very young sows are appreciated +by the Maoris--when they cannot get domestic-bred pork--and are eaten on +a pinch by settlers and bushmen, whose vigorous appetites overcome all +fastidiousness. + +Pork--fresh and salted, bacon and ham--is the natural and invariable +food of the settler. Beef and mutton are too valuable as marketable +steers, dairy cattle, and wool-growers, and are not so conveniently +prepared into keeping forms; hence the pigs he breeds on his clearings +are looked upon by the bush-farmer as the regular source whence to draw +his household provision in the meat way. Now, if the wild boars out of +the bush get among the brood sows upon the clearings, the result is +deplorably manifest in the next generation, which will display more or +less of the evil characteristics of the wild race. Thus, both the older +farmer and the newest settler are nearly touched, and both unite in a +common warfare with the enemy. + +It is often possible to stalk down and to shoot individual wild pigs on +open ground, but that is looked upon merely as a cheerful interlude of +sport; it has no deterrent or scaring effect upon the bulk of the +droves, and is a waste of time, so far as regards the clearance of a +district. A grand and well-organized drive, such as that we are about to +see, will often result in not a single wild pig being visible in the +district for six months and more afterwards. It is good sport, too; very +arduous, since the hunter has to run and scramble through miles of +forest. It has in it a good spice of danger, such as Britons love, and +is, on the whole, pretty popular. Pig-hunting may be described as a sort +of national sport in New Zealand. + +But here is Old Colonial issuing from the shanty, and a start seems +imminent. The plan of campaign has been arranged between him and Mihake +Tekerahi, the Maori, and another settler from a neighbouring river. The +straggling groups of men and dogs are divided into three bodies, two of +which will proceed to right and left respectively, and the third will go +directly "back" from the farm. All the parties will become subdivided +into smaller gangs, in the course of the day, but all will converge upon +a given point in the bush, which will be the limit of the hunt. + +The block of land on which we are lies between three large rivers, and, +owing to the conformation of the country and the winding of the rivers, +its fourth side is a narrow neck of land not more than a mile and a half +wide. Here there is a very lofty and rugged range, and it is the spot +agreed on as our final rendezvous, being some fifteen miles distant from +our shanty. + +Besides the men who have met at the farm, there are several parties who +will start from more distant places, and who will also make for the +range as their terminal point. We hope, by this concentrated drive, to +kill as many pigs as possible, and to cause the rest of them to retire +beyond the narrow space between the rivers; then the whole of our block +will be free from them for some time to come. We have thought of running +a fence across from river to river, but the rough nature of the ground, +and the absence of suitable material quite close to the required spot, +would make this rather too arduous--and therefore too expensive--a work +for us to perform just yet, in our incipient stage of settlement. So we +content ourselves with an annual hunt on a grand and conjoint scale, +and with such minor forays as it pleases individuals to make from time +to time. + +Our way at first--I speak of the band which regards Old Colonial as its +chief director--lies up the clearings, through the bush above, and so to +the elevated ground behind the shanty. Here a halt is called, and our +band is again subdivided into two divisions, which are to take along the +two ranges that commence from this point, hunting the gullies on both +sides of them as they go. Then there is a loud fire of coo-ees, to +ascertain the position of the brigades that started under Mihake and the +other man. Their answering coo-ees come faintly but clearly out of the +distant bush on both sides of us, denoting that they have severally +reached their appointed starting places. + +And now the work begins in earnest. There is a tightening of belts, a +putting out of pipes, and a general air of alertness on every face. For +a time we go plunging on among the trees and brushwood, encouraging the +dogs that are hunting the gullies below with frequent shouts of "Hi, +there, Rimu! Go in, Shark!" and so forth. We have not yet started any +pigs, though here and there we pass tracts of ground ploughed up by +them. + +But, soon, there is a sudden burst of barking from the right, and some +of us rush frantically off in that direction. But the loud voice of Old +Colonial is heard calling in the dogs and shouting-- + +"Ware cattle! Ware cattle! Keep back there, it's Red Spot's mob!" + +And presently, with flying tails and tossing horns, a score of great +beasts go lumbering and crashing by, pursued by that ill-conditioned +Shark, who never will remember his duty, and persists in chasing pigs +when his business is to be after cattle, and so, to-day, is earnestly +and conscientiously driving cattle when he ought to give his mind only +to pigs. + +All the roaring and swearing that goes ringing through the trees only +serves to convince Shark that he is in the right; and he is only stopped +in his wild career by the fortunate fact that the Saint, who has lagged +far in the rear, steps in the way, cajoles Shark into listening to his +advice, and, with a big stick and a few of the most gorgeous expletives +of which he is eminently the master, persuades the errant hound of his +mistake. Deep and dire are the maledictions heaved at the unhappy Shark, +and in which his companions, Rimu and Toto, Wolf and Katipo, have +unjustly to share. For the row occasioned by the episode has been enough +to scare away all the pigs in the district; or, as a Maori near me +mysteriously phrases it, "Make te tam poaka runny kanui far hihi!"--a +sentence that I put on record, as a specimen of the verbal excesses to +which education may lead the once untutored savage. + +However, the most knowing may sometimes be mistaken, and so it luckily +proves in the present instance, for scarcely have we recovered from our +disgust at Shark's misconduct, and resumed our hunting operations, than +again the canine music breaks merrily out, followed by shouts in a dozen +voices of-- + +"Pig! pig! Lay up there, dogs! Good dogs! Lay up there, Rimu, Rimu, +Toto! At 'em, boys! At 'em! Lay up! Pig! pig!" + +And then the hot excitement seizes upon us all, and, as we hear the +unmistakable grunting, squealing, and hough-houghing of pigs, we plunge +madly down to the scene of action. It is no time for considering one's +steps; we go straight for the point where the noise leads us, crashing +against trees, stumbling over logs, regardless of every obstacle. We +pitch headlong into holes hidden by treacherous banks of ferns; we swing +over little precipices by the help of supple-jacks and lianes; we press +through thorny bush-lawyers, heedless of the rags and skin we leave +behind us; we splash through mud and water up to our waists; hot and +breathless, torn and bleeding, bruised and muddy, we come tumbling, +crashing, plunging, bounding down the sides of the gully, mad with the +fierce excitement of the moment. + +A number of pigs are rushing wildly about among the flax and fern-trees, +not knowing which way to escape. The dogs are at them gallantly, seizing +them by the ears, laying up against them flank to flank, and holding on +like grim death. The din is terrific, every one is shouting +encouragement to the dogs, or to himself; the pigs are squealing and +crying as only pigs can. + +Half a dozen dogs have fastened on to as many pigs, growling and +worrying, but holding fast in spite of the twisting and shaking of their +prey, in spite of the clashing of tusks and the savage snorting of one +or two boars among the drove, in spite of being dragged and scraped +through brushwood and timber, keeping always flank to flank with the +pigs they hold, like good dogs as they are. + +I see Old Colonial bounding on before me, after a huge pig that is +dragging the great dog on his ear as a bull-dog would drag a rat in a +similar position. The pig heads up the bank, but Old Colonial is upon +him; he grabs at a hind leg and seizes it with both hands. + +He is down, and is also dragged on his face for a moment; but he still +keeps his grip in spite of kicking and struggling; keeps a firm, hard +hold, regardless of the bruises and scratches he is getting; never +leaves go till he gets his opportunity, till he can put foot to the +ground; and then, with one mighty heave, over goes the pig on his back. +Then triumphantly does Old Colonial put his knee on the boar's belly, +calmly he presses back the snout with one hand, while, in the other, his +knife glitters for a moment in the sunshine, and is then driven well +home. + +In another minute, with Old Colonial's whoop of victory ringing in my +ears, I, too, am engaged. A great, heavy sow passes close before me, +with Katipo tearing at her ear. Simultaneously a couple of Maoris and +myself charge after her. One of them stops behind to tomahawk such of +her litter as he can catch; the other man and I hurl ourselves down upon +the animal, after chasing her a hundred yards or so among the scrub. + +I seize at a leg and am thrown violently to the ground, getting a kick +in the face that sets my nose bleeding. The Maori comes to my aid and +gets a hold, and together we are rolled over on the ground. + +Alas! we have not between us Old Colonial's knack and activity, nor are +we endowed with muscles of such steely fibre. We keep our clutch +determinedly, desperately, and we are flung and bumped among the +tree-roots and brushwood. The pig is screaming like a hundred railway +engines; kicking, plunging, stamping, tearing, twisting from side to +side in a vain endeavour to rid herself of us, or to get at us with +those formidable jaws; shaking Katipo--a big mastiff-like cur--about, as +a cat would shake a mouse. But still we two men hold on to that hind leg +of hers, careless of our hurts, prone on our faces, but straining every +muscle to keep the grip. Presently we get a chance; together we get our +knees upon a log, together we put our backs into the effort, and heave. +Over she goes. + +Hurrah! On to her at once! Sit on her belly and keep her down! Never +mind the kicking legs in the air! Get a hand between the struggling +forelegs, gently, along the neck! Now then, out with the ready +sheath-knife, and dig it in! There! Right to the heart, till the blood +spurts out over us! Hurrah! Good! There's another mother of a family the +less! + +And now we may take breath for a minute or two, praise old Katipo, and +cut off the pig's ears as a trophy. Only for the shortest possible +minute, though, for the hunt is going on with headlong haste and hurry. +We must be up and off after more pigs, and must rejoin the rest of the +scattered party, whose shouts may be heard in various directions; there +must be no loitering when pigs are near, for _they_ will not wait, we +may be sure. + +As we run and scramble on through the scrub, making way upwards along +the gully, we pass several dead pigs at intervals, which show that the +rest of the boys have been well employed. Presently we come upon the +Saint, in the midst of a gloomy thicket of birch, sitting astride of a +great dead boar, and employed with his tomahawk in endeavouring to chop +out the tusks. + +Then Katipo discovers a small family of pigs comfortably stowed away +among the dense vegetation of a little marshy hollow. These give the +three of us some diversion; we manage to kill two of them, and drive out +the remainder upwards through the bush. Following them up hotly for +about a mile, Katipo lays hold of one after another, which we turn over +and stick as we can, killing two or three more in this way. + +But the work is very arduous, and the day is wearing towards noon, and +is consequently very hot--March being here equivalent to an English +September, but much warmer and drier. We are dripping with sweat, our +shirts torn and muddied, blood all over us--both pigs' and our own--and +we feel well-nigh exhausted for the time being by the tremendous and +violent exertions we have been making. + +After the next pig is finally, and with desperate fighting, slaughtered, +there seems to be a general tacit advance towards taking a rest. Katipo +and another dog that we have picked up have taken to lapping at the +creek in the gully, and laying themselves down near the stream, seem +inclined for a brief snooze. The two Maoris are hacking at some nikaus, +and extracting the pith therefrom; and the Saint and I think it well to +do likewise. + +After munching away at the refreshing stuff for a considerable while, we +guiltily put on our pipes; guiltily, for we know that our earnest +leader, Old Colonial, will persevere with unflagging zeal and untiring +energy, and will continue the chase without a moment's cessation. Many +of the settlers will do the same, though probably but few of the +natives, for they have not a fine power of endurance, and it pleases +them usually to do things by spurts. + +However, we are all the better for the temporary relaxation, and pursue +our course with renewed vigour. We have now reached the recesses of the +heavy forest, after passing through various gradations of lighter bush. +Here and there, on our way, we have come across stretches of open +fern-land; but in this district bush is the most prevalent +characteristic of the vegetation. + +Now and then we come upon some gully or flat that has been fired at some +previous period, either by Maoris or settlers. These old burns are now +covered with a dense and uniform jungle of ti-tree second-growth, +through which it is often not easy to pass. The cane-like stems of the +young ti-tree grow close together, like a field of corn, bearing a +feathery green foliage and a white flower, and having a pleasant +balsamic odour. High above the soft green surface of the second-growth +are lifted the bleached trunks and skeleton arms of dead trees, standing +gaunt and grim at intervals among the younger growths below. + +These ti-tree coverts afford very close harbourage for pigs. In them +pigs may hide so well that the hunter might touch them before he saw +them; nay, cattle even may hide as closely. Through the ti-tree there +frequently run narrow paths, or irregular tracks, worn by pigs and +cattle; and, as the wayfarer passes along any one of these tracks, he +has the pleasant excitement of knowing that at any moment he may come +face to face with a boar, in a position where the boar naturally has all +the advantage, if he chooses to avail himself of it. + +In the course of the day our little party makes way onward through the +bush, in the direction of the general rendezvous. Occasionally we start +up pigs, sometimes losing them, and sometimes getting one or two; but +the details of the capture and sticking of those we manage to catch do +not differ very much from the account already given, except that we have +not killed any pigs of particularly large size. + +About noon, or somewhat after, we make a decided halt for the purpose of +getting our dinners, of which we begin to feel very much in need. +Unhappily, no one has brought a tin pannikin along with him, so we +cannot make ourselves any tea; but we light a fire at the bottom of a +shady gully, beside some running water, and commence to cook our repast. + +Each man has got his little parcel of bread or biscuit and meat, tied up +firmly in flax, and fastened to his belt; but besides this, the bush is +affording us other kinds of tucker. Katipo killed a kiwi in the course +of our morning's hunt, and this bird is now being skinned, cut up, and +roasted on sticks. We wish it had been a weka, or bush-hen, as that is +more succulent eating; but we have hearty appetites, and will do justice +to the kiwi, anyhow. + +Then the Maoris have cut out the livers of a couple of young pigs, and +these are toasted in strips, and are not such bad eating after all. By +way of desert we have some berries from the trees around, that prove +very nice. + +After our appetites are satisfied, and the digestive pipe duly smoked, +we resume our hunting operations. But luck is no longer with us, and +when, after walking and scrambling for two or three miles, and feeling +that the time is fast slipping by, we do come upon pigs, we get +separated in the chase that ensues, and I find myself very shortly after +that completely alone. + +I keep walking on, however, in the direction I judge will bring me out +upon the place of assembly; and, after an hour or two, I begin to hear +sounds of life. I am on somewhat high ground, which gradually slopes +downward in the direction I am taking. It is all heavy bush in this +part; huge trees, covered with ferns and creepers, soar upwards on all +sides. The sunlight falls in patches here and there, through the canopy +of branches far overhead, and occasionally there occur little glades and +dells and openings, quite open to the light. + +Below the great trees are many smaller ones, among which I notice +nikau-palms, cabbage-palms, fern-trees, and tingahere, attracting the +eye with their stranger forms. Below these, again, is a thick jungle of +shrubs of many species, masses of creeping-plants matting the bushes +together, or depending from the trees and ferns in infinite profusion +and luxuriance. + +The late afternoon sun is slanting from behind me, so that when its rays +shoot through the branches they light up the scenes in front, and thus +the picture I presently witness comes before me with proper artistic +effect. I hear sounds of life coming through the trees in advance of +me--the sounds of men shouting and yelling in excitement; the noise of +dogs barking and yelping; and through it and above it all, clearer and +clearer heard as I run hastily forward, the horrid hoarse +"hough-hough"--that sound so hollow and booming as heard in the "echoing +woods,"--with the sharper metallic clashing of savage jaws, that I know +can only proceed from some patriarchal boar. + +A minute later and I come out upon the scene of action. It is a +comparatively open glade, surrounded on all sides by the dense forest, +and having, near the opposite extremity, a small, abruptly-rising knoll, +that is crowned by a single gigantic rata-tree. The little glade is full +of unwonted life; nigh a score of the hunting party, and eight or ten +dogs, are making things pretty lively within it. + +The cause of all the uproar and excitement is seen among the spreading +and massive roots of the rata; it is a boar, one of the largest any of +us ever saw, and he is now "bailed up" below the great tree. + +To say that he seems as big as a donkey but feebly expresses the +apparent size of the beast. His stern is set back against the tree; but +the mighty and ferocious head is turned full upon his foes. Every +bristle on his crest stands erect with rage. The small but fierce eyes +take in every movement, and survey dogs and men with desperate and +fiend-like animosity. The long snout is pointed straight forward, +showing the gleaming teeth below it, while the great tusks, curving up +from the jaws, shine like scimitars. + +Nor is the huge brute one moment still; his fore-feet are pawing and +tearing at the ground; his head is turned first in one direction and +then in another; his whole body is quivering and shaking; foam flies +from his grinding jaws; while his continued snorting, with its roaring, +bellowing, and shrieking intonations, is horrible to hear. + +Yet as this savage king of the forest stands there at bay, there is a +something grand and majestic about him, something of barbaric and +unconquerable pride and courage, despite his demoniac and ogre-like +ugliness; but, I am afraid, no one sees anything but a big fierce pig, +who must be slaughtered as speedily and cleverly as possible. + +Most of the men keep at a respectful distance, not caring to get too +close to those formidable tusks; but they are actively employed in +shouting and brandishing knives and tomahawks. Close in front of the +pig, amid a whirling circle of barking dogs, Old Colonial, O'Gaygun, and +one or two Maoris appear to be performing an exciting kind of war-dance. +They are endeavouring to urge in the dogs, and are trying to draw the +pig out from among the tree-roots; while, at the same time, they are +springing actively about in order to avoid each fancied and expected +rush of the boar. + +But the boar is not to be drawn out from among the high branching roots +that protect his flanks and stern. At every near approach of dog or man +he feints to charge, lowering and tossing his head, uttering yet fiercer +notes of wrath, or tearing up the ground, and sending splinters flying +from the tree with blows from his tusks; such threatening movements on +his part effectually deterring his foes in their advance. Sticks and +stones, large and weighty, are hurled at him from all sides. What does +he care for such puny projectiles? Even a well-aimed tomahawk, that +strikes him full and fairly, fails to hurt or penetrate his armour of +bristles and tough hide. Like Achilles, his weak place is in his +heels--his rear, and that is well protected behind him. + +But another foeman to the swinish champion now appears upon the scene. A +man, whom I have come close to in the hurry-skurry, suddenly calls to +me-- + +"Look at old Tama up there behind the tree!" Then he shouts in +stentorian delight-- + +"Te toa rere, te toa mahuta! Go it, Tama, old boy! Hopu te poaka! Jump +in and kill him!" + +Looking up at the great trunk of the rata, with its extensive pedestal +of gnarled and twisting roots, that for six or eight feet from the +ground branch down all round its base, I see peering round the stem, and +from above the roots, a face that I know well; it is that of +Tama-te-Whiti. He has made a circuit, got behind the tree, and is now +climbing over and among the extended roots, cautiously and silently +stealing upon the pig, with intent to drive it out of the cover of the +tree. + +Old Tama's grey hair hangs loosely over his brows; his elaborate +tattooing looks unusually conspicuous; his arms are bare to the +shoulder; and, as he gradually draws himself into our view, we see his +body is almost bare, except a few fluttering rags of shirt that still +remain about him. The other day I saw Tama at the township, elaborately +attired in black broadcloth and white linen and all the rest of it, +looking a perfect picture of smug respectability and aged innocence. +Now here he is, grasping a tomahawk in his sinewy hand, with a knife +held between his teeth, and--albeit 'tis only a boar he is +attacking--with a fire dancing in his eyes like that which shone there +in his hot youth, when, here in these self-same woods, he and the young +braves of his tribe met in deadly conflict with the invading Ngapuhi. + +The boar is unconscious of Tama's approach; he is occupied with his +adversaries in front, who are redoubling their efforts to attract his +attention. And at this moment another of the hunters is seized with an +heroic impulse. + +It has at last come home to the mind of that impetuous and much +objurgated dog, Shark, that his destiny in life is to be a boar-hound. +Hitherto, his experience of the manners and customs of pigs has not been +great; but the conviction has come to him that he knows all about the +business; and, too, he is probably anxious to retrieve his disgraceful +conduct of the morning. Shark is a fresh arrival on the scene, having +just come in with one of the straggling parties. He is not contented to +join his canine companions, who are warily waiting their opportunity to +dash in on the boar's flanks and rear; but, like all high-couraged and +impetuous youth, Shark dashes, barking, to the front, and blindly, +quixotically, and madly, he charges on the boar. + +Alas! poor dog! great as was his bravery, his size, his strength, what +could they avail in such foolhardy strife? One jerk of the black snout, +one flash of the white tusks, and, with a last yelping scream, the body +of poor Shark goes whirling up into the air, and falls a bleeding, +bisected, lifeless lump. Poor Shark! with all his faults, I think we +loved him well! + +But even in his death he is avenged. The boar darted a few feet forward +in his onslaught upon Shark, and the opportunity has been seized upon. +The war-cry of the Ngatewhatua goes echoing through the forest, as old +Tama springs down in rear of the boar; his swinging tomahawk inflicts a +gaping wound, and he seizes a hind leg of the pig before that animal can +back itself among the roots. + +Other Maoris, Old Colonial, and more of the party rush to his aid. Dogs +seize on the boar's bleeding ears. For a minute there is a scene of +direful confusion, an indescribable struggle in which men, dogs, and pig +are mingled in a twisting, shouting, panting, wrestling heap. Another +dog gets his flank slit up, a man has his legging and trouser torn off +his leg, and then the giant brute is conquered. Overturned and +shrieking, kicking, biting, struggling desperately to the last, till +half a dozen knives are buried in his heart. + +With the slaughter of the monster boar the day's hunt comes to an end. +The spot is close to the rendezvous, and most of the parties have +arrived, or are not far off. There is an interchange of gossip over the +doings of the day among the various groups; and, by-and-by, a count up +of the number of pigs killed. Ears and tails are produced as vouchers, +and about three hundred and fifty pigs, big and little, are thus +accounted for, while half a dozen pair of tusks, of more than ordinary +size, denote the killing of as many large boars. The tusks from the last +slain monster become the property of Old Colonial, and, gaily mounted in +silver, they may now be found among the ornaments of an English +drawing-room. + +But now evening is upon us, and many of the party are tramping homewards +in divers directions through the bush. Others make their way to a point +on one of the rivers, a mile or so from the rendezvous, where boats have +been brought up, and whence they will have a long row to their various +places. But by far the greater number are too much fagged out with the +exertions of the day to move from their present resting-places. + +So a camp is formed in a suitable spot, and one or two of the least +tired set about getting some supper ready, and gather fern for +bedding. And when night deepens overhead, and the shadows of the forest +fold round us, recumbent forms are stretched around the roaring +camp-fire; supper, rude and rough, but hearty, has been eaten, pipes are +lighted, and while some are snoring, others are lazily recounting their +doughty deeds, and enjoying to the full the well-earned rest that fitly +terminates a pig-hunt in the bush. + +END OF VOL. I. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Brighter Britain! (Volume 1 of 2), by +William Delisle Hay + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BRIGHTER BRITAIN! (VOLUME 1 OF 2) *** + +***** This file should be named 29070.txt or 29070.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/0/7/29070/ + +Produced by Heiko Evermann and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |
