When I stated to him that since the formation of the colony one law and one sovereign reigned from one end of New Zealand to the other, and that that applied to the King Country as well as to any other part of the island, he replied, "That may be so. But," he continued, "you have your queen, and Tawhiao is our king. Whatever Tawhiao says, we must do."
At this stage Te Kooti burst forth with a wild chant—a kind of song of welcome, which was intended as a compliment to our visit. As Te Kooti sang, his voice was singularly clear and mournful, and his intonation very distinct, while every word, as it fell from his lips, appeared to be uttered with the wild impulse of a fanatic. During this time his followers, as they had in fact done all along, sat listening in mute attention, as if anxious to hear the words of one whom they appeared to look upon as a kind of deified man, or as one endowed with a charmed life that had made him the hero of brave and extraordinary exploits, which recalled to mind some of the most daring and bloody deeds of Maori warfare, and as I listened to his wild refrain, and marked the earnest yet animated expression of his features as he sang, I could well realize the influence which such a man would exercise over the superstitious minds of the Maoris, and yet when I recalled to mind his remarkable career, his marvellous escape from the Chatham Islands with his devoted band, his desperate and bloody raid upon the settlers of Poverty Bay, and the series of daring achievements which rendered the name of Te Kooti a terror and a menace during the war that followed, I could not but help thinking that many of the Cæsars and Napoleons of history must have been made of much the same stuff as this fanatical Hauhau leader.
Our last night in the King Country was celebrated by a haka in Te Kooti's camp. Never had I seen anything so wild or so exciting. When the moon was up we went to a secluded spot surrounded by forest, where huge fires had been lit to assist the doubtful light of the Queen of night. The spectators squatted about in a semicircle, the ex-rebel chief taking up his position in the midst of his swarthy followers. At a signal given about fifty men entered the arena and nearly as many women. All were lightly clad; so lightly indeed that the costume of our first parents had not been greatly encroached upon. At a signal given from the leader the dancers formed themselves into ranks, and the first step was made by striking the feet heavily upon the ground, and, as the excitement produced by this movement gradually increased, the limbs trembled from the feet upwards, until every muscle in the body appeared to shake and twist, as if from the thrilling effects of a galvanic current. Then they turned their bodies to the right with a swinging jump, keeping the elbows close to the ribs and stretching out the fore-part of the arm until the hands and fingers shook and trembled as if strung together by wires. Then, they swung the body to the left in the same attitude, and then, facing to the front, threw back their heads, thrust out their tongues to the fullest extent in a menacing way, and turned up their eyes until nothing but the whites could be seen, and which, gleaming beneath the bright glow of the fires, imparted to their distorted countenances a singularly ghastly look. Next a wiry, tattooed savage jumped to the front with a loud yell, thrusting out his tongue, and distorting his features until the blue lines formed a quivering network over his face. He challenged the best dancer in the throng, at which a woman appeared upon the scene, when the pair performed a dance which no pen or pencil could describe. Then they returned into the ranks, and another couple followed, and then a third, and a fourth, until the whole crowd mingling together danced and yelled in a marvellous yet diabolical way. The dark, streaming hair of the women fell over their well-turned shoulders or swept round their heads in a circle, as the dark syrens went through the most extraordinary gyrations, with the rapidity of electrified humming-tops, while the men, twirling their weapons furiously in the air, yelled in a loud chorus which terminated in a long, deep, expressive sigh. Again and again these movements were enacted with protruding tongues, distorted faces, and fixed, staring eyes, time being marked by striking the thigh with the open left hand, so as to produce a sound which, mingling with the loud shouting of the furious dancers, added a curious effect to the wild and boisterous scene.
It was a bright morning when we left Manga-o-rongo to do the last stage of our eventful journey. Although our horses had rested for two days, it was clear that they were utterly exhausted from their past fatigues, while their legs were so swollen that we could hardly get them to move along. Leaving the settlement, the whole broad valley of the Waipa lay stretched before us in the form of a wide expanse of open plain, through which the winding river, from which it derives its name, meandered in the direction of the north.
The Waipa has its source on the southern side of Mount Pukeokahu, which is situated a little to the eastward of Mount Rangitoto. It winds round the western end of the Rangitoto ranges, and finally pursues its way along the Waipa Valley. Besides receiving, however, a large portion of the watershed of the Rangitoto Mountains, most of the streams from the ranges of the Kuiti flow into it, while to the west it is fed by numerous watercourses from the high coast ranges. Its principal tributaries are the Mangapu, Manga-o-Rewa, and Mangawhero, with the Puniu as the chief. Beyond the head of the river the watershed falls towards the Mokau, south of which the country is open for a considerable distance in the direction of the Tetaraka Plains, until the great central belt of forest country is reached.
The whole wide valley of the Waipa lies very low, its altitude near the margin of the stream being scarcely 100 feet above the level of the sea; but the country rises gradually towards the west into undulating fern-clad hills, which mount in a kind of terrace formation, one above the other, until they reach the high wooded ranges which border the West Coast. The plains of this valley are composed for the most part of rich alluvial soil, which is everywhere covered with a dense growth of low fern. Many native cultivations and settlements are dotted about along the whole course of the river, and, taken altogether, this valley is one of the most densely populated portions of the King Country. From every point of view the scenery is most attractive, especially when looking in the direction of the north, where the tall forms of Pirongia, Maungatautari, and Kakepuku tower high above the surrounding plains.
It was already night when we had nearly reached the end of our journey, and just as we drew rein at a native whare to inquire the best point at which to cross the Waipa, my horse sank under me from sheer exhaustion as I sat on his back. A little coaxing got "Charlie" on to his legs again, and we hastened down to the banks of the Waipa to find that the river was almost at high flood. There was a canoe at the ford, but, as ill-luck would have it, it happened to be on the opposite side of the stream. We shouted lustily, in the hope that some one would hear us, and come and ferry us across, but there was no response but the echo of our voices, and it seemed that we would have to pass another night in the open, or swim our horses at the risk of our lives. The night was bitterly cold, and we were naturally anxious to reach our long looked-for goal, and, just as we were making preparations to swim the river, voices were heard on the other side, and in a few moments more the canoe shot across the water under the skilful guidance of three young Maori girls. It did not take us long to unsaddle, and, putting everything into the canoe with ourselves, we swam our exhausted animals across, but not before "Tommy," by being swept under the frail craft, by the force of the current, had nearly succeeded in upsetting it in the centre of the rapid stream. Once on the opposite side, we pressed upon our dark deliverers all the money we could muster, and, entering the King's settlement at Whatiwhatihoe, we crossed the aukati line forming the northern boundary of the King Country, when the moon was high, on the night of the 18th of May, after a journey, which, taking all distances traversed into account, was not short of 600 miles.
FOOTNOTES:
[73] The Maoris count time by nights, moons, and stars. There appears to have been a kind of division of the nights into decades, as ten nights to the full moon, ten to its disappearing. The Maori year begins with the first new moon after the star Puanga is seen in the morning, which is in May.