CHAP. IV.
THE RANGE FROM MERCURY BAY TO THE BAY OF ISLANDS; AN EXPEDITION UP THE RIVER THAMES: SOME ACCOUNT OF THE INDIANS WHO INHABIT ITS BANKS, AND THE FINE TIMBER THAT GROWS THERE: SEVERAL INTERVIEWS WITH THE NATIVES ON DIFFERENT PARTS OF THE COAST, AND A SKIRMISH WITH THEM UPON AN ISLAND.
I continued plying to windward two days to get under the land, and on the 18th, about seven in the morning, we were abreast of a very conspicuous promontory, being then in latitude 36° 26ʹ, and in the direction of N. 48 W. from the north head of Mercury Bay, or Point Mercury, which was distant nine leagues: upon this point stood many people, who seemed to take little notice of us, but talked together with great earnestness. In about half an hour, several canoes put off from different places, and came towards the ship; upon which the people on the point also launched a canoe, and about twenty of them came in her up with the others. When two of these canoes, in which there might be about sixty men, came near enough to make themselves heard, they sung their war-song; but seeing that we took little notice of it, they threw a few stones at us, and then rowed off towards the shore. We hoped that we had now done with them, but in a short time they returned, as if with a fixed resolution to provoke us into a battle, animating themselves by their song as they had done before. Tupia, without any directions from us, went to the poop, and began to expostulate: he told them, that we had weapons which would destroy them in a moment; and that, if they ventured to attack us, we should be obliged to use them. Upon this, they flourished their weapons, and cried out, in their language, “Come on shore, and we will kill you all:” Well, said Tupia, but why should you molest us while we are at sea? as we do not wish to fight, we shall not accept your challenge to come on shore; and here there is no pretence for quarrel, the sea being no more your property than the ship. This eloquence of Tupia, though it greatly surprised us, having given him no hints for the arguments he used, had no effect upon our enemies, who very soon renewed their battery: a musket was then fired through one of their boats, and this was an argument of sufficient weight, for they immediately fell astern and left us.
From the point, of which we were now abreast, the land trends W. ½ S. near a league, and then S. S. E. as far as we could see; and, besides the islands that lay without us, we could see land round by the S. W. as far as N. W.; but whether this was the main or islands, we could not then determine: the fear of losing the main, however, made me resolve to follow its direction. With this view, I hauled round the point, and steered to the southward, but there being light airs all round the compass, we made but little progress.
About one o’clock, a breeze sprung up at east, which afterwards came to N. E. and we steered along the shore S. by E. and S. S. E. having from twenty-five to eighteen fathom.
At about half an hour after seven in the evening, having run seven or eight leagues since noon, I anchored in twenty-three fathom, not choosing to run any farther in the dark, as I had now land on both sides, forming the entrance of a straight, bay, or river, lying S. by E. for on that point we could see no land.
At day-break, on the 19th, the wind being still favourable, we weighed and stood with an easy sail up the inlet, keeping nearest to the east side. In a short time, two large canoes came off to us from the shore; the people on board said, that they knew Toiava very well, and called Tupia by his name. I invited some of them on board; and as they knew they had nothing to fear from us, while they behaved honestly and peaceably, they immediately complied: I made each of them some presents, and dismissed them much gratified. Other canoes afterwards came up to us from a different side of the bay; and the people on board of these also mentioned the name of Toiava, and sent a young man into the ship, who told us he was his grandson, and he also was dismissed with a present.
After having run about five leagues from the place where we had anchored the night before, our depth of water gradually decreased to six fathom; and not choosing to go into less, as it was tide of flood, and the wind blew right up the inlet, I came to an anchor about the middle of the channel, which is near eleven miles over; after which I sent two boats out to sound, one on one side, and the other on the other.
The boats not having found above three feet more water than we were now in, I determined to go no farther with the ship, but to examine the head of the bay in the boats; for, as it appeared to run a good way inland, I thought this a favourable opportunity to examine the interior part of the country, and its produce.
At day-break, therefore, I set out in the pinnace and long-boat, accompanied by Mr. Banks, Dr. Solander, and Tupia; and we found the inlet end in a river, about nine miles above the ship: into this river we entered with the first of the flood, and within three miles found the water perfectly fresh. Before we had proceeded more than one third of that distance, we found an Indian town, which was built upon a small bank of dry sand, but entirely surrounded by a deep mud, which possibly the inhabitants might consider as a defence. These people, as soon as they saw us, thronged to the banks, and invited us on shore. We accepted the invitation, and made them a visit notwithstanding the mud. They received us with open arms, having heard of us from our good old friend Toiava; but our stay could not be long, as we had other objects of curiosity in view. We proceeded up the river till near noon, when we were fourteen miles within its entrance; and then, finding the face of the country to continue nearly the same, without any alteration in the course of the stream, which we had no hope of tracing to its source, we landed on the west side, to take a view of the lofty trees which every where adorned its banks. They were of a kind that we had seen before, though only at a distance, both in Poverty Bay and Hawke’s Bay. Before we had walked an hundred yards into the wood, we met with one of them which was nineteen feet eight inches in the girt, at the height of six feet above the ground: having a quadrant with me, I measured its height from the root to the first branch, and found it to be eighty-nine feet: it was as straight as an arrow, and tapered but very little in proportion to its height; so that I judged there were three hundred and fifty-six feet of solid timber in it, exclusive of the branches. As we advanced, we saw many others that were still larger; we cut down a young one, and the wood proved heavy and solid, not fit for masts, but such as would make the finest plank in the world. Our carpenter, who was with us, said that the timber resembled that of the pitch-pine, which is lightened by tapping; and possibly some such method might be found to lighten these, and they would then be such masts as no country in Europe can produce. As the wood was swampy, we could not range far; but we found many stout trees of other kinds, all of them utterly unknown to us, specimens of which we brought away.
The river at this height is as broad as the Thames at Greenwich, and the tide of flood as strong; it is not indeed quite so deep, but has water enough for vessels of more than a middle size, and a bottom of mud so soft, that nothing could take damage by running ashore.