Maori and Settler: A Story of The New Zealand War

by G. A. Henty

"Of course they would be much better without him, for I can foresee he will give them an awful lot of trouble. He will go mooning away among the natives, and will be getting lost and not heard of for a tremendous time. Still, I don't know that he will come to much harm. The Maoris have fine traits of character, and though they have been fighting about what they call the king question, they have seldom been guilty of any acts of hostility to isolated settlers, and a single white man going among them has always been received hospitably; besides, they will probably think him mad, and savages have always a sort of respect for madmen. Still, he will be a terrible worry to his family. I have taken a fancy to the others, and if I can do them a good turn out there in any way I will."

As the voyage went on Mr. Atherton's liking for Mrs. Renshaw, her son and daughter, increased greatly, while his contempt for Mr. Renshaw became modified as he came to know him better. He found that he was really a capable man in his own particular hobby, and that although weak and indecisive he was very kind and affectionate with his wife and children, and reposed an almost childlike confidence in his wife's good sense.

Madeira had been sighted lying like a great cloud on the horizon, and indeed the young Renshaws had difficulty when they came up on deck in the morning in believing that it was really land they saw. No stay was made here, nor did they catch a glimpse of the Canary Islands, being too far to the west to see even the lofty peak of Teneriffe. The first time the ship dropped anchor was at St. Jago, one of the Cape de Verde Islands; here they took in a supply of fresh water, meat, and vegetables. The passengers all landed, but were much disappointed with the sandy and uninteresting island, and it was no consolation for them to learn from the captain that parts of the island were much more fertile, although the vegetables and fruit came for the most part from the other islands. "Now," he said, "if all goes well you will see no land again till you get to Rio. We shall keep to the east of St. Paul, and unless we get blown out of our course we shall not go near Ascension."

As the wind continued favourable the ship kept her course, and at twelve o'clock one day the captain, after taking his observations, told them that he expected to be in Rio on the following evening. The next morning when they came up on deck land was in sight, and in the evening they dropped anchor in the harbour of Rio, one of the finest ports in the world.

"Yes, it is a splendid harbour," Mr. Atherton agreed as he listened to the exclamations of delight of the Renshaws. "I do not know that it is the finest, but it is certainly equal to any I have ever seen. As a harbour New York is better, because even more landlocked. San Francisco is, both in that respect and in point of scenery, superb. Bombay is a grand harbour, but exposed to certain winds. Taken altogether, I think I should give the palm to San Francisco."

A few minutes after the anchor had dropped a number of shore-boats came alongside filled with luscious fruit, and rowed for the most part by negroes, who chatted and shouted and gesticulated, making such a din that it was impossible to distinguish a single word amid the uproar. Wilfrid, the Allens, and others quickly ran down the ladders, and without troubling themselves to bargain returned with quantities of fruit. Several negresses soon followed them on to the deck, and going up to the ladies produced cards and letters testifying that they were good washerwomen and their terms reasonable. The captain had the evening before told them it would take him three or four days to discharge his cargo for Rio, and that they had better take advantage of the opportunity if they wanted any washing done. They had, therefore, got everything in readiness, and in a few minutes numerous canvas bags filled with linen were deposited in the boats.

In addition to the fruit several great bouquets of gorgeous flowers had been purchased, and the cabin that evening presented quite a festive appearance. After it became dark and the lights of Rio sparkled out, all agreed that the scene was even more beautiful than by daylight. The air was deliciously balmy and soft, the sea as smooth as glass. The moon was nearly full, and the whole line of the shore could be distinctly seen. Boats flitted about between the vessels and the strand; fishing-boats, with their sails hanging motionless, slowly made their way in by the aid of oars. The sounds of distant music in the city came across the water.

There was no singing or dancing on board the Flying Scud that evening. All were content to sit quiet and enjoy the scene, and such conversation as there was was carried on in low tones, as if they were under a spell which they feared to break. The next morning all went ashore soon after breakfast; but upon their assembling at dinner it was found that the general impression was one of disappointment. It was a fine city, but not so fine as it looked from the water. Except the main thoroughfares the streets were narrow, and, as the ladies declared, dirty. The young people, however, were not so critical; they had been delighted with the stir and movement, the bright costumes, the variety of race and colour, and the novelty of everything they saw.

"The negroes amuse me most," Marion said. "They seem to be always laughing. I never saw such merry people."

"They are like children," her father said. "The slightest thing causes them amusement. It is one of the signs of a low type of intellect when people are given to laugh at trifles."