Nearing the coast a bay was discovered into which the ship sailed, and let go her anchor near the mouth of a small river, not far from where the town of Guisborne now stands. Plenty of smoke was seen, showing the country was inhabited, and the pinnace and yawl were manned and armed, and Cook landed on the east side of the river. Some natives were seen on the other side, and, to try to open communications, the yawl, pulled by four boys, entered the river, whilst Cook followed up the natives, who had retreated towards some huts about 300 yards away. Some Maoris, thinking the boys would be an easy prey, tried to steal on the yawl, but the coxswain of the pinnace observing them called the boat back. One of the Maoris raised his spear to throw, and the coxswain fired over his head, causing a moment's pause of surprise; but, seeing nothing further, he again prepared to throw his spear, so the coxswain shot him, and his friends retreated at once, leaving the body behind. Cook at once ordered a return to the ship, as it was now getting dark.
The next morning, seeing some men near the same place, Cook again landed with Banks, Solander, and an armed party; and Solander went forward to the brink of the river to try and speak with the natives, but was received with a threatening waving of spears and a war dance. Cook retired to the boats, and landing the marines, again advanced with Green, Monkhouse, and Tupia. The latter spoke to the natives; and, to the great delight of the party, found he could make himself understood. After a little parley an unarmed native swam across the river, and was then followed by twenty or thirty more with their arms. Presents were given, but they seemed dissatisfied, and wanted arms. At last one stole Green's hanger, and they all became very aggressive and insolent, whilst more were seen to be preparing to cross; so Cook, thinking the position was getting too serious, ordered the one who had taken the hanger, and who was apparently the leader, to be shot, whereon the rest beat a hasty retreat.
The next day the boats tried to find another landing-place, but the surf was too heavy; and when two canoes were seen coming in from the sea, Cook determined to intercept them and try to come to friendly terms. However, they would not stop when called on, and on a musket being fired over them, the occupants seized their weapons and fiercely attacked the nearest boat, its crew being compelled to fire in self-defence, and Cook says two natives were killed. Banks gives the number as four, and the Maori account agrees with him. Three jumped overboard to swim ashore, but were picked up by the boats and taken on board ship. They were at first very depressed, but soon recovered their spirits on finding themselves well treated, and after eating and drinking enormously, entertained the crew with songs and dances. Cook deeply regretted this incident, and candidly confesses that he was not justified in trying to seize the canoes, but having once committed himself, he was obliged for his own safety to go to the bitter end. Banks says the day is "the most disagreeable my life has yet seen; black be the mark for it, and heaven send that such may never return to embitter future reflection."
The next day a party landed to cut wood, and was accompanied by the three captives, whom they tried to persuade to join their friends. The suggestion was declined, as they professed to be afraid of being eaten, and after a time went and hid in some bushes. Cook, noticing several parties of armed natives advancing in a threatening manner, retired his woodcutters across the river. About 150 to 200 Maoris gathered on the opposite bank. Tupia was put forward to parley, and some presents were shown, and at length one man came over who received a present from each of the British and then rejoined his friends. Cook then returned to the ship, taking with him the three youths, who still seemed afraid of their own countrymen. They were again landed the next morning as the ship was about to sail, and though they still professed to be frightened, were soon seen walking away in friendly converse with some who had come to meet them.
NATIVE ACCOUNT.
Mr. Polack, a New Zealand resident, gives an account in his New Zealand, which he gathered from the children of natives who were present at the landing of Cook. The tribe then living in the neighbourhood were recent arrivals, their leader being Te Ratu—the first man killed by the English. The natives were anxious to avenge him, but were afraid of the "thunderbolts which killed at a long distance," some indeed went so far as to say they felt ill if an Englishman looked at them. The idea of revenge was only ended on the vessel leaving. Mr. Polack's chief witness was the son of a man who was wounded by a ball in the shoulder, but survived his wound till within a year or two of 1836, the time the information was obtained. Before the ship left, a sort of peace was patched up by means of presents, and the dead bodies which had been left where they fell, apparently as a protest, were removed.
Cook describes the country as a narrow slip of low sand, backed by well-wooded hills, rising in the interior into high mountains, on which patches of snow could be seen. That it was fairly populated was evident from the smoke rising through the trees, more especially in the valleys leading into Poverty Bay as he named it, because they were unable to get anything but a small quantity of wood.
At Hawke's Bay, whilst trading was going on, a large war canoe came up, and the occupants received some presents. Cook noticed a man wearing a cloak of some black skin, and offered a piece of red cloth for it. The owner took it off, but would not part with it till he received the cloth, and then his boat was pushed off from the ship, and Cook lost both his cloak and his cloth. Soon after a determined attempt was made to steal Tupia's boy, Tayeto, who was handing some things down to a canoe; the Maoris had to be fired on, and in the consequent confusion the boy jumped into the water and swam to the ship. The point off which this occurred was named Cape Kidnapper. As there was no appearance of a harbour, Cook altered his course to the north at Cape Turnagain, 40 degrees 34 minutes South, to see if he could not do better in the other direction.
All the canoes seen along this coast were well made, far in advance of anything they had seen before, and the grotesque carving and ornamental work was admirably executed. The dresses warn were usually two cloak-shaped garments, one warn round the shoulders, the other round the loins, and were made of a substance like hemp, some being very fine. Banks had purchased something like them at Rio de Janeiro, for which he gave thirty-six shillings, thinking it cheap, but these were as fine, if not finer, in texture. Dogs, which were used as food, and rats were the only quadrupeds seen. Whilst Banks and Solander were collecting, they discovered a large natural arch, which the former describes as the most magnificent surprise he had ever met with. It was sketched by Parkinson, and is engraved in the History. Cook also made a pen-and-ink sketch of it, which is in the British Museum.