THE ISLAND OF TAHITI AND ITS EXTRAORDINARY DOUBLE CANOES: AS SEEN BY CAPTAIN COOK

The New Zealanders were told that all the white men wanted was provisions and water, and that they would give them iron in exchange. The properties of iron were then explained to them. The Maoris replied they were willing to trade, but declined to lay by their arms, and insisted on the white men coming into their midst. However, after some further exchange of shouted messages to and fro, one of the Maoris put down his weapons, stripped off his clothing, and swam over the intervening river, and with great bravery (considering all the circumstances of the case) walked into the midst of the white men, and was soon followed by other Maoris to the number of twenty or thirty. Some of them were armed. To all were given presents of iron and beads. But they set very little value on either, particularly of iron, of which they had not the least idea. In exchange they gave a few birds' feathers, which they considered ornaments. They then offered to exchange their weapons for those of the white men, and, when the latter refused, made attempts to snatch them from the hands of the officers and soldiers. They were plainly told that if they did not desist the white men would be obliged to kill them. However, a few minutes afterwards, one of the officers happening to turn his back on the Maoris, one of them snatched away his hanger (sword), and, retiring to a little distance, waved it above his head with a shout of exultation. The rest of the savages now became extremely insolent, and called to their friends across the river to join them. The invitation being accepted, it was necessary for the white men to defend themselves. Thereupon Banks fired at the Maori, who was still waving the hanger above his head. The gun was loaded with small shot, which peppered the man at a distance of about 15 yards. He still continued to flourish the sword about, but began slowly to retreat to a greater distance. Whereupon the midshipman named Monkhouse, who figures prominently in Cook's narrative as a person very ready to fire on natives, and who was responsible for the death of the first Tahitian (see p. 196), fired at the Maori with ball cartridge and killed him. The main body of New Zealanders, who in their advance had halted on a rock in the middle of the river when the first gun was fired, began to return to the other shore, while two of those still remaining on the side where the white men were snatched the weapon of green jade (see p. 215) from the dead man, and another endeavoured to secure the naval officer's sword. This was prevented by Mr. Monkhouse. Once again the whole body of Maoris attempted to cross the river and attack the Englishmen, but they were met by a discharge of small shot, whereupon they recrossed the river and retired slowly up country, whilst Cook and his men returned in their boats to the Endeavour.

This river was probably the little Ormond River, which flows into Poverty Bay. Near the sea it was salt, so that Cook and his party, unable to furnish their ship with fresh water, made an expedition in boats round the head of the bay to search for fresh water. On their way they saw two canoes coming in from the sea, one under sail and the other worked with paddles. It was decided to intercept these canoes and seize the people in them, so that they might be conveyed to the ship, given presents, and, as it were, forcibly made friends with, and then return on shore to open up negotiations with their fellow countrymen. The two canoes, however, escaped the cordon of boats by desperate paddling. A musket was fired over their heads. Upon the discharge of the piece the men of one of the canoes ceased paddling, stripped off their garments, and actually tackled the boat that came up to seize them, fighting, with their paddles, stones, and other weapons which they had, so vigorously that Cook's party was obliged to fire on them in their own defence. Four, unhappily, were killed, and the other three—boys or youths—leaped into the sea. With great difficulty they were seized and hauled into the boats.

On reaching the ship they had already regained their composure, and evinced a most intense curiosity as to everything they saw, taking especial pleasure in eating bread and salt pork. During the night, however, they gave way to sadness, and sighed very loudly, but Tupia, the invaluable interpreter from Tahiti, came and talked to them so soothingly that they regained their cheerfulness, and to pass the time sang a song with a degree of taste that surprised the crew. The tune was solemn and slow, like that of a psalm, and contained many notes and semitones. The names of these three young Maoris are recorded as Taurangi, Koikerange, and Maragovete. Next morning, after eating another enormous meal, and having been dressed in European clothes and adorned with bracelets, anklets, and necklaces, they were taken on shore by Cook and his party, but evinced great fear when they found they were to be landed at the mouth of the little river, since at that spot the natives were the enemies of their own tribe. However, amongst the large party of Maoris which began to advance on the landing party the boys discerned a relation. Eventually peace was made between the white men and the Maoris, and the boys probably returned to their relations.

As the result of this turn in events a canoe came off from Poverty Bay before the Endeavour left the vicinity, others from the neighbourhood followed, and soon there were fifty Maoris on board, who sold everything they had, even the clothes from their backs and the paddles from their boats. Cook sailed southwards at first as far as the point which he named Cape Turnagain. The rumours of his kindly treatment of Maoris on board the Endeavour having fortunately spread in all directions, whenever the Endeavour came to an anchor canoes would come off to visit the ship and to bring produce for trade, and although one or two disagreeable incidents occurred, such as when the natives attempted to kidnap a Polynesian boy on board for the purpose of eating him—for their cannibalism began to be patent to Cook and his officers—the relations between the Englishmen and the Maoris became so friendly that frequent excursions were made on shore, the houses of chiefs were visited, and meals were taken with them.

The food of these New Zealanders consisted mainly of fish, with which they ate, as a kind of bread, the roots of a bracken fern. These roots were scorched over a fire, beaten with a stick till the bark fell off, and what remained was a soft substance, somewhat clammy and sweet, though not unpleasing to the taste, but very fibrous and stringy. The natives, being tidy in their eating, kept baskets by them into which they spat out the fibrous refuse of the bracken-fern roots. They had no domestic animals except dogs, which were very small and ugly. (The black, bear-like skins which Cook saw being worn occasionally were probably skins of sea-lions or seals.) But they had plantations of sweet potatoes, taro yams, and gourds. The surroundings of their houses were kept scrupulously clean, and there were regular places in which all litter, offal, and refuse was piled up in regular dunghills. The women were not so good-looking as the men, and made themselves uglier by painting their faces with red ochre and oil, an adornment which was very disagreeable to Europeans, because they found out the favourite salutation of the New Zealanders to be that of rubbing noses, so that any attempts to get into friendly relations resulted in most of the officers having their faces smeared with greasy red paint. As a rule, the men confined their decorations to the elaborate tatuing, which has since become so famous, yet there were some who liked to cover their faces, bodies, and clothing with red ochre, and went about carrying pieces of this earth with which to renew the colouring wherever it was removed by contact. Each woman wore a girdle made of sweet-smelling grasses and leaves, and over this a petticoat of roughly plaited Phormium fibre.

They found the country luxuriantly clothed with forest and everywhere a beautiful verdure. The species of trees in the woods were unknown to them. They specially noticed here and there cabbage-palms, which they cut down for the cabbages.[76]

The woods abounded in birds of great variety, some of them exquisitely beautiful, but all quite unknown to the Europeans.