Celebrated Travels and Travellers, Part 3. / The Great Explorers of the Nineteenth Century

by Jules Verne

D'Urville continued to sail northward up the coast until the capes, named by Cook Turn-again and Kidnappers, had been doubled, and Sterile Island with its "Ipah" came in sight. In the Bay of Tolaga, as Cook called it, the natives brought alongside the corvette pigs and potatoes, which they readily exchanged for articles of little value. On other canoes approaching, the New Zealanders who were on board the vessel urged the commander to fire upon and kill their fellow-countrymen in the boats; but as soon as the latter climbed up to the deck, the first arrivals advanced to greet them with earnest assurances of friendship. Conduct so strangely inconsistent is the outcome of the compound of hatred and jealousy mutually entertained for each other by these tribes. "They all desire to appropriate to themselves exclusively whatever advantage may be obtained from the visits of foreigners, and they are distressed at the prospect of their neighbours getting any share." Proof was soon afforded that this explanation is the right key to their behaviour.

Upon the Astrolabe were several New Zealanders, but among them was a certain "Shaki" who was recognized as a chief by his tall stature, his elaborate tattooing, and the respectful manner in which he was addressed by his fellow-islanders. Seeing a canoe manned by not more than seven or eight men approaching the corvette, this "Shaki" and the rest came to entreat D'Urville most earnestly to kill the new arrivals, going so far as to ask for muskets that they might themselves fire upon them. However, no sooner had the last comers arrived on board than all those who were there already overwhelmed them with courtesies, while the "Shaki" himself, although he had been one of the most sanguinary, completely changed his tone and made them a present of some axes he had just obtained. After the chief men of a warlike and fierce appearance, with faces tattooed all over, had been a few minutes on board, D'Urville was preparing to ask them some questions, with the aid of a vocabulary published by the missionaries, when all at once they turned away from him, leaped into their canoes and pushed out into the open sea. This sudden move was brought about by their countrymen, who, for the purpose of getting rid of them, slily hinted that their lives were in danger, as the Frenchmen had formed a plot to kill them.

It was in the Bay of Tolaga, the right name of which is Houa-Houa, that D'Urville found the first opportunity of gaining some information about the "kiwi," by means of a mat decorated with the feathers of that bird, such mats being articles of luxury among these islanders. The "kiwi" is about the size of a small turkey, and, like the ostrich, has not the power of flying. It is hunted at night by the light of torches and with the assistance of dogs. It is this bird which is also known under the name of the "apteryx." What the natives told D'Urville about it was in the main accurate. The apteryx, with the tail of a fowl and a plumage of a reddish-brown, has an affinity to the ostrich; it inhabits damp and gloomy woods, and never comes out even in search of food except in the evening. The incessant hunting of the natives has considerably diminished the numbers of this curious species, and it is now very rare.

D'Urville made no pause in the hydrographical survey of the northern island of New Zealand, keeping up daily communication with the natives, who brought him supplies of pigs and potatoes. According to their own statements, the tribes were perpetually at war with one another, and this was the true cause of the decrease in the population of these islands. Their constant demand was for fire-arms; failing to obtain these, they were satisfied if they could get powder in exchange for their own commodities.

On the 10th February, when not far from Cape Runaway, the corvette was caught in a violent storm, which lasted for thirty-six hours, and she was more than once on the point of foundering. After this, she made her way into the Bay of Plenty, at the bottom of which rises Mount Edgecumbe; then keeping along the coast, the islands of Haute and Major were sighted; but during this exploration of the bay, the weather was so severe that the chart of it then laid down cannot be considered very trustworthy. After leaving this bay, the corvette reached the Bay of Mercury; surveyed Barrier Island, entered Shouraki or Hauraki Bay, identified the Hen and Chickens and the Poor Knights Islands, finally arriving at the Bay of Islands. The native tribes met with by D'Urville in this part of the island were busy with an expedition against those of Shouraki and Waikato Bays. For the purpose of exploring the former bay, which had been imperfectly surveyed by Cook, D'Urville sailed back to it, and discovered that that part of New Zealand is indented with a number of harbours and gulfs of great depth, each one being safer, if possible, than the other. Having been informed that by following the direction of the Wai Magoia, a place would be reached distant only a very short journey from the large port of Manukau, he despatched some of his officers by that route, and they verified the correctness of the information he had received. This discovery, observes Dumont d'Urville, may become of great value to future settlements of Shouraki Bay; and this value will be still farther increased should the new surveys prove that the port of Manukau is accessible to vessels of a certain size, for such a settlement would command two seas, one on the east and the other on the west.

One of the "Rangatiras," as the chiefs of that quarter of the island are called, Rangui by name, had again and again begged the commander to give him some lead to make bullets with; a request which was always refused. Just before setting sail, D'Urville was informed that the deep-sea lead had been carried off; and he at once reproached Rangui in severe terms, telling him that such petty larcenies were unworthy of a man in a respectable position. The chief appeared to be deeply moved by the reproach, and excused himself by saying that he had no knowledge of the theft, which must have been committed by some stranger. "A short time afterwards," the narrative goes on to say, "my attention was drawn to the side of the ship by the sound of blows given with great force, and piteous cries proceeding from the canoe of Rangui. There I saw Rangui and Tawiti striking blow after blow with their paddles upon an object resembling the figure of a man covered with a cloak. It was easy to perceive that the two wily chiefs were simply beating one of the benches of the canoe. After this farce had been played for some little time, Rangui's paddle broke in his hands. The sham man was made to appear to fall down, when Rangui, addressing me, said that he had just killed the thief, and wished to know whether that would satisfy me. I assured him that it would, laughing to myself at the artifice of these savages; an artifice, for that matter, such as is often to be met with among people more advanced in civilization."

D'Urville next surveyed the lovely island of Wai-hiki, and thus terminated the survey of the Astrolabe Channel and Hauraki Bay. He then resumed his voyage in a northerly direction towards the Bay of Islands, sailing as far as Cape Maria Van Diemen, the most northerly point of New Zealand, where, say the Waïdonas, "the souls of the departed gather from all parts of Ika-Na-Mawi, to take their final flight to the realms of light or to those of eternal darkness."

The Bay of Islands, at the time when the Coquille put in there, was alive with a pretty considerable population, with whom the visitors soon became on friendly terms. Now, however, the animation of former days had given place to the silence of desolation. The Ipah, or rather the Pah of Kahou Wera, once the abode of an energetic tribe, was deserted, war had done its customary destructive work in the place. The Songhui tribe had stolen the possessions, and dispersed the members of the tribe of Paroa.

The Bay of Islands was the place chosen for their field of effort by the English missionaries, who, notwithstanding their devotion to their work had not made any progress among the natives. The unproductiveness of their labours was only too apparent.

The survey of the eastern side of New Zealand, a hydrographical work of the utmost importance, terminated at this point. Since the days of Cook no exploration of anything like such a vast extent of the coast of this country had been conducted in so careful a manner, in the face of so many perils. The sciences of geography and navigation were both signally benefited by the skilful and detailed work of D'Urville, who had to give proof of exceptional qualities in the midst of sudden and terrible dangers. However, on his return to France, no notice was taken of the hardships he had undergone, or the devotion to duty he had shown; he was left without recognition, and duties were assigned to him, the performance of which could bring no distinction, for they could have been equally well discharged by any ordinary ship's captain.