Hakiro belonged to the Ngatirehia tribes, being the son of Tareha, but on this occasion he essayed to speak for Titore,[73] though it is highly questionable whether he reflected the sentiments to which that chief would have given utterance had he been still with the living. Titore was justly regarded as one of the noblest of the Nga-Puhi chieftains, and his early death was generally mourned, not only as a personal loss, but as a misfortune to the cause of national unity. Be that as it may, his illustrious representative on this auspicious occasion, swayed by other influences, elected to throw the weight of his great name into the opposite scale to which he would almost certainly have thrown it himself.
"To thee, O Governor! this. Who says sit? Who? Hear me, O Governor! I say, no, no."
As he shouted these questions and answers he ran swiftly backwards and forwards brandishing a taiaha as he ran.
"Sit indeed! Who says sit? Go back, go back. Do not thou sit here. What wilt thou sit here for? We are not thy people. We are free. We will not have a Governor. Return, return, leave us. The Missionaries and Busby are our fathers. We do not want thee, so go back, return, depart."
Tareha, who followed, was easily one of the largest natives in the North, and had been one of the most ferocious of cannibals.[74] He seldom burdened himself with much clothing, and on this occasion, as if to show how independent he was of such European luxuries, he appeared with nothing more than a dirty piece of old matting fastened round his waist. In the one hand he carried a canoe paddle, and in the other a small bunch of fern-root, tied by a piece of string, for the purpose of further demonstrating that he and his people still had the food of their fathers to rely upon. Tareha never became a Christian—dying as he lived, a heathen—but under the influence of Hongi he had always shown considerable solicitude for the Missionaries, whose interests he had invariably protected, both with his personal and tribal power. His particular protégé at this time was Bishop Pompallier, to whom, in common with Rewa, Moka, and Hakiro, he lived near at Kororareka. Whether this association in any way affected the views of Tareha and his associates is probably a matter best left to individual opinion, but it has been observed as an interesting coincidence that the natives who were in closest contact with the Bishop were the most aggressively hostile to the treaty.
This fact had already been so much in evidence that when Tareha rose, and in his deep sepulchral voice shouted, "No Governor for me—for us native men," no one who was taking a keen interest in the proceedings was very much surprised. With much of the gesticulation peculiar to Maori oratory and a clever application of the arts involved in native elocution, Tareha began to develop his pronouncement against the Governor. "We, we only are the chiefs—the rulers. We will not be ruled over. What! thou, a foreigner, up and I down! Thou high, and I, Tareha, the great chief of the Nga-Puhi tribes low! No, no, never, never. I am jealous of thee; I am, and shall be until thou and thy ship go away. Go back, go back, thou shalt not stay here. No, no, I will never say 'Yes.' Stay! Alas! what for? Why? What is there here for thee? Our lands are already all gone. Yes, it is so, but our names remain. Never mind, what of that—the lands of our fathers alienated! Dost thou think we are poor, indigent, poverty-stricken—that we really need thy foreign garments, thy food? Look at this!"
Here he dangled his bunch of fern-root in the air as proof that his argument was not without foundation.
"See, this is my food, the food of my ancestors, the food of the native people. Pshaw! Governor, to think of tempting men—us natives—with baits of clothing and food! Yes, I say we are the chiefs. If all were to be alike, all equal in rank with thee; but thou the Governor up high—up, up, as this tall paddle[75] and I down, under, beneath! No, no, no. I will never say 'Yes, stay.' Go back, return, make haste away. Let me see you (all) go; thee and thy ship. Go, go, return, return."
The speech of Tareha with its forceful opinions and dramatic delivery had a marked and visible effect upon the native section of the audience, so much so that Captain Hobson began to regard the result with considerable trepidation. He expressed these fears to Mr. Williams, who, knowing the delicacy of the situation, advised him not to betray his anxiety, but at the close of the meeting to recommend the treaty to their deliberate consideration, and to say that he would give them three days in which to finally make up their minds upon it.
For this advice Captain Hobson thanked the Missionary, and then a more favourable turn was given to the debate by a humorous sally from Rawiri, a chief of Ngatitautahi, who, anxious to display his smattering of newly acquired English, opened his speech with the salutation, "Good morning, Mr. Governor, very good you." This was as far as his linguistic accomplishments could carry him, and for the remainder of his oration he relapsed into his native tongue, in which he made an earnest appeal for established authority and a law that would maintain them in peace. "Our Governor, our Father! stay here, O Governor! Sit that we may be in peace. A good thing this for us, my friends, native men. Stay, sit. Do thou remain, O Governor! to be a Governor for us."