Among these natives, as a rule, the laborious work is put upon the women, while the men fill the rôle of idlers. It seems strange that while they were thorough barbarians and cannibals they continued to thrive,—certainly they did not largely decrease in numbers; but with semi-civilization has come almost annual decimation. As we have seen was the case of the aborigines in Tasmania, it is believed by many that the same fate of final complete extinction is in store for the Maoris in the near future.
The entire coast north of Wellington is extremely bold, tumbled together in true volcanic confusion. In the neighborhood of the capital this conformation begins to extend inland; thus the city has no near background of available country for population, from which to draw a certain amount of business,—no suburbs, so to speak. The town impressed us as being a city of shops; and how so many persons can realize a fair living from the amount of local business in Wellington is certainly a mystery. Here the dwellings creep up the hills as we have so often described the case elsewhere; and as the houses are mostly built of wood, fires have proved especially destructive. We found the general Post-Office in ruins by a recent fire, though it was a brick structure; the lofty stuccoed walls were still standing. Some large new buildings nearly finished were also observed to be of brick. For a number of years at first the fear of serious earthquakes prevented the use of any other material in building than wood. Even now there is a frequent tremulousness of the earth, and rumblings as of distant thunder are heard in the hills that run inland from the city toward the high mountains,—all which is quite sufficient to keep the fact in mind that this is a volcanic region. Earthquake shocks are frequent all over the islands, from Cape Maria in the far north to South Cape in the southern part of Stewart Island. It is believed that New Zealand was rent midway, and that Cook's Strait was thus created between the North and South Islands by volcanic explosion. There is known to be an extinct volcano at the bottom of the Strait in front of the entrance to the harbor of Wellington, over which the water is never absolutely calm. Thus it would seem that the city is situated very near a volcanic centre. A fellow-traveller in discussing the matter suggested that it was not just the place to seek for a "permanent" investment; but on the other hand an intelligent elderly resident assured us that these demonstrations are gradually dying out. Fires have latterly been so sweeping and disastrous in Wellington, that this element is coming to be more dreaded than earthquakes; and partially to provide against destruction by flames, stone and brick as building materials in the centre of the town are being almost universally substituted for wood.
The Southern Alps, as the range which runs north and south through New Zealand is called, are believed to antedate the Alps of Europe, while nowhere else is marked evidence of glacial action more clearly defined. The glaciers of to-day, though they are insignificant in comparison to those of ancient periods, are of vast size and full of awe-inspiring effects. In one respect these glaciers particularly resemble those of Norway; that is, in descending so nearly to the sea. The author has seen enormous glaciers in Scandinavia whose lower portions were within a hundred feet of the surface of the ocean, while it is well known that in Switzerland there is no instance where a glacier descends lower than thirty-five hundred feet above the level of the sea.
Willis Street is the fashionable thoroughfare of Wellington, being considerably more than a mile in length and nearly straight; but it is quite irregular in width. This street is lined on either side with stores and public buildings, some of large and pretentious aspect. We counted nine good-sized bookstores upon this avenue, all well stocked with modern literature. One may safely put down this fact as being a significant sign of the general intelligence of the neighborhood. Wellington is certainly growing with the prevailing rapidity of the several localities which we visited; new streets were being laid out, of better width and having more regularity of form, while the roadways were being thoroughly macadamized, and rolled with a heavy steam-rolling machine. In the harbor a large steam-dredging boat was also busy deepening and straightening the course of the channel. Eleven steamships and half-a-dozen large sailing-vessels lay at the wharves, five of the latter from England. It is natural that the trade of the colonies should be very generally retained by the mother country, though there is a considerable commerce carried on with the west coast of America.
The stranger coming to the capital must not omit to visit the Hutt, a pleasant village situated where the Hutt River enters the bay. Here also is located the Wellington race-course; and most interesting of all the attractions hereabout is a famous resort known as McNab's Gardens. The pleasant lawns, flower-beds, and fruit-orchards of this place form a charming resort for pleasure parties out on a ride or drive from the city. Some of the ornamental trees contained in these gardens were the finest we saw in New Zealand. The labyrinth of walks leads through exquisitely kept flower-beds, which specially exhibit the remarkably favorable nature of the climate for floral displays at any season of the year. The many fine exotics which are exhibited here must have been accumulated at a heavy expense. A small admission fee is very properly charged by the proprietor, who is prepared also to supply any desired refreshments at a reasonable price. As we write these notes there steals over the senses a delicious memory of atmospheric sweetness, daintily impregnated with mignonette, lilies, lemon verbena, and roses, at that pleasant resort on Wellington Bay.
The last scene witnessed at the capital, as we were about to embark on a steamer for the north, was an attempt at a parade by some "Salvationists." The procession moved in single file, consisting of three poke-bonnets with an equal number of young women under them, two men in red coats, and two in dark clothes, very shiny and greasy. There were also four or five small boys, who so straggled from the line that it was by no means certain whether they belonged to it or not. One of the girls vigorously pounded a cracked tambourine, one of the red-coated men blew occasional blasts upon a tin fish-horn, and all sang psalms much out of tune. The sight would have been ludicrous, had it not been saddening. In the midst of the chorus, "Glory, Hallelujah," the foremost girl, at the most critical moment of her performance upon the tambourine, made a misstep and fell at full length in the middle of the muddy street, while her noisy instrument rolled away through the slush. "There is something in the misfortunes of our best friends which is not entirely displeasing to us," says a certain French philosopher; and so the Salvationists supplemented their companion's misfortune and their "Glory Hallelujah" with uproarious laughter. As the poke-bonnet became once more elevated, both it and the wearer presented a wofully dilapidated appearance. It seems incredible that fanaticism can make such ninnies of men and women, for some of these ill-conducting persons are probably sincere.
Napier is situated about two hundred miles north of Wellington, upon an open roadstead and a very dangerous coast,—a fact sadly impressed upon us by the wreck of a large ship, the "Northumberland," an English freighter which was destroyed here a few days before our arrival and portions of which were still visible. With two anchors down, this fine vessel was driven on shore and completely wrecked, involving the loss of several lives and much valuable property. Almost superhuman efforts were made in behalf of the sufferers by the local life-saving boat's crew, but only with partial success.
The business portion of Napier is quite level, and regularly laid out; but the residences of the population creep up, tier upon tier, on the surrounding hills, one of which forms an extraordinary promontory extending into the roadstead. The six thousand persons who constitute the population of the town seem to be taking life very easily; indeed, there did not appear to be much of any business going on in the place, and the quietude of it was not a little oppressive. There were small crowds of men and youth loafing before the bar-rooms upon the corners of the streets, and among them were observed quite a sprinkling of half-castes and full-blooded natives. There was also a number of native women strolling about listlessly, wrapped only in their high-colored blankets and wearing a single skirt. The tattooed faces rendered these women and girls needlessly hideous,—an aspect which was partially redeemed by their fine eyes, the beauty of which nothing can efface; they are large, black as night, and brilliant, full of feeling and tenderness. If the term "ox-eyed" ever applied to humanity, it is appropriate to the Maori women, who possess this one feature in perfection.
We obtained some noteworthy and interesting information relative to these aborigines. For instance, they never eat salt; they have no fixed industry, and no idea of time or its divisions into hours and months; they are, like our North American Indians, constitutionally lazy; they are intensely selfish, and care nothing for their dead; they have a quick sense of insult, but cannot as a rule be called pugnacious; they excite themselves to fight by indulging in a hideous war-dance and by singing songs full of braggadocio, and when thus wrought up to a certain pitch they are perfectly reckless as to personal safety. The Maori is not however a treacherous enemy; he gives honorable notice of his hostile intent, warring only in an open manner,—thus exhibiting a degree of chivalry unknown among our American Indians. Money with the Maori is considered only as representing so much rum and tobacco. Alcohol is their criterion of value; bread and meat are quite secondary. They live entirely from hand to mouth, to use an expressive term, and never take heed for the morrow. As a rule they seem entirely thoughtless and happy in the present, so long as their necessities are satisfied and their animal pleasures are not interfered with. After all, this semi-barbarous race are like children, who follow bad example sooner than good. "White man drink whiskey, why not I?" said one of them to us at Ohinemutu when we declined to give him "drink money." As a rule the Maoris are not beggars, except for strong drink. They will importune a stranger for rum, but not for bread. We were told by an official of the district at Napier that it is quite impossible to imbue these Maoris with a sense of the importance of chastity; the idea is ignored altogether. But it is with them as with the Japanese; after a woman is married she becomes sacred, and to treat her with unchaste violence then is to incur the penalty of death. It would be impossible to imagine a more immoral people, when judged by the conventionalities of our civilization, than these New Zealand natives.
Ancient traditions are fast fading away among this people, dying with the elders of the tribes in whose memory they are locked up. Though the missionaries half invented and half transcribed an oral Maori language, it is almost solely applied to a translation of the Bible, and there cannot be said now to exist any native literature. Yet, could their legends be properly recorded, they would form a sort of barbaric literature by no means without considerable poetic value. Sir George Gray has attempted something of the sort, but with indifferent success. He speaks the native tongue fluently, however, and has always sympathized heartily with the aboriginal race, who call him their English Father.