But though Cook offered presents, and though Tupia charmed never so wisely with his Tahitian tongue, the Maori would have none of the Pakeha. They no doubt feared these white visitors. Te Tanewha, a chief who was a boy when Cook paid his first visit, described many years later the astonishment of the Maori at the approach of what they took to be "a whale with wings." Then, as the Endeavour's boats were pulled ashore, the bewilderment of the natives deepened; for it appeared to them that the Pakeha had eyes in the back of their heads. This, of course, was due to the position of the rowers, which was exactly the reverse of that assumed by the Maori in propelling their canoes.
The appearance of the natives became threatening, and some of them tried to make off with one of the calves of the "whale with wings," that is, with the ship's pinnace. Tupia warned them that they ran the risk of being severely dealt with, but the words of a man of their own colour moved them not at all. Their hostile demonstrations continued, and Cook—who was determined to pursue his researches—very reluctantly drove them back with violence.
Cook was so kindly, so humane, so unused to oppress another merely because his skin was coloured, that his action caused comment even in his own day. That the great navigator himself regretted the impulse which had led him to depart from his usual magnanimous methods, is evident from the excuses he afterwards put forward in explanation of his conduct.
During the next six months Cook circumnavigated the islands, discovering the strait which bears his name between the North and the Middle Island. Stewart Island he presumed to be the southern extremity of the Middle Island and, as regards the country, this was one of the very few errors he made.
Fully alive to the warlike disposition of the Maori, Captain Cook yet recognised their generosity, their agreeable behaviour to strangers who did not presume too far, and the unusual gentleness of their attitude towards their women. "The Englishman who marries a Maori," he tells us, "must first obtain the consent of her parents and, this done, ... is obliged to treat her with at least as much delicacy as in England." In many passages Cook shows how clearly he perceived the superiority of these "Indians" over ordinary savages. Moreover, despite certain pronounced faults, and the prevalence of one odious custom, he readily admits their chivalrous nature.
Yet he occasionally fell into the common error of crediting the race with the disposition of the individual, so that, if one lied or thieved, the natives in that particular part are set down as "lying and thievish." But, though they opposed his efforts to explore the interior of the country, and so disappointed him, Captain Cook's experience among the Maori left him little to complain of; while the failings they displayed might well have been recognised as, first, the faults of their age and race, and second, the faults common to all men, white, brown, yellow, or black.
Still, for all his criticisms, Captain Cook was never personally harsh in his dealings with the Maori, and it would have been well had his subordinates imitated more exactly his fine magnanimity. The following account of an Englishman's hasty temper, and the cool judgment, not to say generosity, of the Maori chiefs, is very instructive.
On one occasion, when a party of Maori visitors were leaving the ship, Lieutenant Gore missed a piece of calico, which he was possibly endeavouring to exchange for native articles. Confident that a certain Maori had stolen the stuff, Gore deliberately fired at the man as he sat in the canoe, and killed him. The lieutenant was right in his belief, for, when the canoe reached the shore, the blood-stained calico was found beneath the dead man; but his action was that of a savage—worse, since he, no doubt, claimed a higher order of mind. The only excuse that can be offered for Gore is that he lived at a time when even children were hanged for stealing trifles, and he may have believed himself entitled to mete out this rough-and-ready justice.
What followed? The Maori—admittedly savages—did not at once return and clamour for revenge; though an eye for an eye and blood for blood was one of the strongest articles in their creed. No; the chiefs took the matter in hand, calmly and dispassionately judged the dead man and found him guilty of theft. Therefore, they determined that utu should not be exacted on account of the killing of their tribesman. That they were perfectly sincere, and did not seek to disguise sentiments of hatred and desire for revenge under a mask of forgiveness, is entirely proved by the fact that Captain Cook landed after this unhappy occurrence and went about among them just as if nothing had happened.