“Another weary, weary day—wait, wait—nothing but waiting. There was not even the fun of a war-dance—no water for boilers, so there could be no steam. Now and then yet a hurrah or so of the natives, when someone got prominently hit, but the strength of voice and lung displayed on the first day had made us hypercritical, so that their performance in the vocal department was not appreciated. They made, however, some very good shooting, particularly at unconscious amateurs and spectators. There was poor Major Hurford, of the 3rd Waikato Regiment. He came to me and said that he had just had two very narrow escapes, one ball contusing his breast, another his hip. ‘I am so glad,’ he said, ‘that my wife will not hear of this until all is over.’ The following morning it was all over with him.
“That day the natives began running out a counter-sap to outflank ours, and the firing from each covering party became exceedingly hot. We got all our own lead from those musical Enfield messengers en masse. When it comes to eating, drinking, and sleeping under an unceasing peppering of lead, when it drops into your pannikin, or into the bowl of your pipe—a man may be excused for losing his temper—if he has one to lose.
“The natives in the bush showed again that afternoon, but their spirits were not so high as the day previous. They would not treat us to any more war-dances, and just fired their sullen shots to let their friends in the pa know that they were there. That evening the sapping party of Jackson brought home their first victim of the war—Private Coglan. Having exposed himself rather imprudently in planting a gabion, he was shot dead on the spot.
“I felt a little less anxious that night. More than one hundred revolvers were now in a row, which in half a minute would fire 600 shots, and these at close quarters should tell. At night there is nothing like a revolver for a struggle. [[67]]
THE THIRD DAY.
“The following morning (2nd April) General Cameron made his appearance with a detachment of the Defence Corps and some packhorses with hand-grenades. * * * Our sap was now so far advanced that it entered the old stock-yard fence, which surrounded the pa at some distance. It was in rashly jumping out of the sap and cutting down gallantly one of these posts that Major Hurford received his death-wound in the head. He rallied for a short space of time, long enough to receive the attentions of his poor wife, but the ball, remaining in his head, caused his death at last at Otahuhu. Many gallant deeds were done that day in the sap, but the same being at the opposite extreme of the pa from our position I was not an eye-witness to them. I only know from good testimony that Captain Baker was amongst the foremost to urge the work by word and example; Jackson’s Ensign Whitfield behaved with his usual distinction; Ensign Harrison, of the Transport Corps, did good service with his rifle en amateur; my Sergeant Southee later in the day, still with the 65th detachment, was the first to change his footing from our works into that of the Maoris. (Note.—Poor Whitfield lost his life in one of my engagements in the Wanganui district. He was one of the most gallant officers I have known.)
“The weariness on our post on that third day was becoming to me almost unbearable. There was no excitement to compensate for the constant annoyance of bullets flying about you for three days and two nights, and the constant false reports of the assault going to take place sickened one at last of the whole affair. There had been a demand for volunteers in the morning to go sapping. I knew it did not refer to me, but I thought they might accept me after all when the hottest work commenced, so I took sixteen volunteers from my company and marched round to the sap. I was close to the sap when Baker met me and instantly drove me back in spite of all my expostulations and pleas of the morning’s order. ‘No, no! To your post! To your post!’ And as a sweetener for this disagreeable treatment the cunning Staff Machiavelli told me to come back at four o’clock in the afternoon, when I would be allowed to sap, knowing himself perfectly well that by that time I would have found other work to do. I went back crestfallen and miserable. My return instantly enfranchised Jackson, who took the opportunity of [[68]]trying his rifle skill en amateur in the sap—and his skill in this department is by no means contemptible.
“ * * * what means that shout—that hurrah? ‘Stand to your arms, men!’ Another truly British cheer! They must be assaulting the pa! ‘Forward, men—forward!’ And away I dash with a promiscuous crowd of Rangers and soldiers. But I know the way where we can go in reasonable security. Along the slant of the hill the fern is high, and the level of the ground scarce shows our heads. If we reach the angle of the pa in front of us while attention is concentrated on the diagonally opposite angle where our sap leads to we may get into the pa with little opposition, or shoot down fugitives escaping thence, if there are any.
“We had to go some distance. The Maoris saw us first just on cresting the hill, and sent a heavy fire at us. But all those who followed my guidance were soon safe from it. I saw some heaps of rubbish under some trees, with a half-broken-down pig fence, at 30 yards from the pa. That was a good halting place to breathe my men and count them. Alas! there were not above a dozen. There were my two sergeants, Carron and Toovey, Mogul, and little Keena, and a few of Jackson’s company—but we had lost our tail by the velocity of our flight forward. Well, the place had a very tenable look about it, so, seeing that every man lay well covered, I sent Sergeant Carron back for reinforcements, and saw that my men kept the Maoris’ heads well down the parapet. Our arrival there had in the first instance driven back a few Maoris attempting to escape from the angle I expected they would make use of. After that they kept up a pretty close fire upon us, but we had very good cover, and gave it to them better than they could. Carron returned in a little, and said that Captain Baker wanted me immediately at my post, so nolens volens, I had to return, seeing that a dozen men were not enough with which to assault 300 Maoris behind a high parapet. During my return I was informed by my men that one of those following me had been hit, and was lying in the very path to the pa. This was the first intimation I had of such mishap, for all the men close to me and following my guidance had been untouched. This poor fellow had chosen the main track to walk upon, probably scorning the fern, and had so come by his death. It was Corporal Taylor, an old soldier of the 70th. Sadly we carried our burden to our post, where I found my mentor Captain Baker charged to the muzzle with military reprimands for me. While he and I and Major [[69]]Blyth were argumenting on this subject a tremendous shout arose from the pa—a volley, and then such an incessant rattle of musketry that I perceived at once what the matter was. At last the Maoris had broken cover.