Camp Fire Yarns of the Lost Legion

by G. Hamilton-Browne

With one half of them he could have saved the Huke Pah, and cut up the Hau Haus, very many of whom had sacked the public-house and were lying about dead drunk; but he did nothing, for on receipt of the news, which was quickly confirmed, and although he was quite aware of the weakness of the pah’s garrison, he asserted he still had doubts as to the truth of his information and only despatched Trooper George Hill, of the Armed Constabulary, to see if Te Kooti was really playing high jinks at the Mohaka.

Trooper Hill left Te Wairoa, on horseback, and rode in the direction of the Mohaka. About half-way he met two mounted settlers, Lamplough and Burton, who, having heard of Te Kooti’s advent, were doing a scout on their own; these men at once offered to accompany him, and did so. On reaching the vicinity of the Mohaka they dismounted, tied up their horses and crept up a ridge from which they could observe the place. From this point of vantage they could see the Huke Pah, with the flag still flying, and also the puffs of smoke from the rifle pits of the enemy, so that they were fairly able to judge the number of the attackers and locate the positions they occupied.

As there could now be no longer any doubt that Te Kooti and his gang were on the warpath, Trooper Hill, leaving the two settlers, both of them good men, on the ridge to observe the enemy, mounted his horse and returned towards the camp as fast as he could get his horse to go. Unfortunately his horse knocked up, but just then he met three of his comrades, who had been sent out to look for him. Despatching one of them to Te Wairoa with his report, Hill and the other two men, Tew and Mitchell, returned to Mohaka. Here they tied up their horses and joined the settlers on the ridge, so as to keep the enemy under observation and be able to supply the O.C. of the relieving force with information.

Of course the A.C. troopers never doubted that a relieving force would be sent at once, probably wondered why there was not one on the job already; but they were not accustomed to militia officers. Their own officers had no use for timidity, and regarded prudence and discretion as very good horses only to be trotted out at long intervals; anyhow, not one of the men on the ridge would have believed an angel, had he informed them that no relieving party would be sent at all.

The five men remained on the ridge till after dark, and then descended to the flat where they had tied up their horses. They had, however, been guilty of an act of folly, insomuch that they had not left one of their number in charge of their mounts, for on reaching the place where they had left them tied up they found one of them had broken his tether rope and had levanted. As it was necessary to find the brute, Hill and Tew started away on foot to do so, each man taking his own line of search. The other men, instead of remaining quiet, waited a few minutes, then mounted their horses and rode over the flat to assist in the hunt. While doing so, in the pitch darkness, they stumbled over Tew and foolishly challenged him in Maori. He promptly answered with a carbine shot that killed Lamplough’s horse. Burton, fancying Tew to be a Hau Hau, returned the fire, his horse at once bucking him off and galloping away. The third man, Trooper Mitchell, hearing the firing and the galloping of the horses, thought they were attacked by the enemy, so, shouting to Hill to run, he rode as hard as he could in the direction he fancied his comrade had taken, in order to assist him. He had not gone far when his horse turned turtle over a flax bush, fell with him, getting away and galloping off. All of the five men were now dismounted, each man thinking he was surrounded by Hau Haus, so they all bolted for an adjacent flax swamp and hid in the water all the remainder of the night—a just punishment for their carelessness and folly. Daylight revealed the fiasco, and as they were dismounted they took cover and waited for the relief party that did not come.

Towards midday 100 Maoris turned up under the command of a grand old fighting chief, Ihaka Whanga, but less than 30 of them were to be relied on, the rest semi Hau Haus, as much to be feared as trusted.

At once the ridge was lined and Hill saw that the Huke Pah had fallen, but that the Hiruharama Pah still held out though closely invested. The garrison, seeing friends on the ridge, shouted to them for assistance, as there were not enough men to hold the place should it be rushed. Among Ihaka Whanga’s party were twenty-five Mohaka men, and these were the boys ready and willing to grasp at any plan, no matter how desperate, to relieve their relations and save the honour of their pah. George Hill was the man for the emergency. He explained the only plan was to cut their way through the besiegers. He was game to lead, were the twenty-five game to follow? Of course they were. So, without any thought of prudence, discretion, or even modesty, Hill whipped off his boots, tunic, and riding breeches, so as to be able to run the better, and the gallant twenty-six, shouting their war-cry, charged the Hau Hau rifle pits.

A MAORI GIRL.

Yes, they charged and charged home, for they broke their way, by sheer pluck and hard hitting, right through the ranks of the enemy (Hill killing his man en route) and reached the gate of the pah, which they entered, only two of them being wounded during the rush.