“About half an hour after this we saw a canoe, paddled by four natives, coming up the river. We knew from the way they used their paddles that something was wrong. Their faces were as green as the French Emperor’s at Solferino, and their teeth were chattering with terror. They were so panic-struck that it took some time before we learned from them that the rebels had formed an ambuscade, and attacked them while off their guard. Mr. Armitage and two white men had been killed, and all the friendly natives dispersed or slain; these four only survived to tell their fate. Thirty or forty men, women, and children, had perished.
“We are pretty well used to such things out here, so no time was wasted in idle words. In half an hour we had a party, consisting of Lieutenant Butler, myself, two sergeants, one bugler, and fifty rank and file, under arms, the whole under the command of Captain Swift. We were all too eager for the fray to care much for eating, so we snatched a hasty dinner and were off by one o’clock. People at home can have no idea of a march through the bush. We had to cross nine or ten miles of swamp, intersected by rivers scarcely practicable for regular troops, so as to strike the foot of the wooded range of hills on a spur of which stands the pa of Camerontown. We had to creep through the dense bush, but there is no difficulty persistent pluck may not surmount. We were all tired enough when we reached a small clearing about half-past four o’clock in the afternoon, and felt the need of the evening tot of rum which was now served out. One sergeant and ten privates, on receiving theirs, were sent on in advance; the main body followed a little after. On proceeding a few hundred yards they discovered that the advanced guard had strayed from the right path, and we could not shout without attracting the notice of the natives. We felt it rather hard to be deprived of their services, as we had no men to spare, but it was decided that we should go on. Our force was now reduced to two officers and forty-three men, but Captain Swift was a host in himself; we would have followed him anywhere and against any odds.
“It was at this juncture that I had an opportunity of showing some qualities which have brought me under the notice of General Cameron, and procured for me such honours as have rarely, if ever before, been bestowed on a British soldier. There are as good men as I am in the ranks, unknown to fame, but time and chance happeneth to all. I never dreamed of honours—my only desire was to do my duty. I asked and obtained leave from Captain Swift to advance forty or fifty yards in front of the men to act as scout, an office for which I was well qualified from former experience. I took a direct course through the bush towards the spot where the natives were supposed to be. About five o’clock I reached a large opening, where I could plainly see the rebels’ encampment in the bush, about four hundred yards in advance. Crossing the clearing in a stooping position and at a smart pace, I again made for the bush, followed by the whole detachment. Five minutes after we could distinctly hear the sound of the rebels’ voices, and Captain Swift, imagining that they were advancing by the same path to attack us, threw his men into ambush. On finding that they refused to advance, I crept stealthily up to within a few yards of them. Unlike most Maori war parties, they were laughing and chattering, which led me to think they had been making free with the rum they had seized in the canoes. I returned and reported this to Captain Swift, who came to the same conclusion as myself, that they were all drunk. The order was at once given to fix bayonets and charge. Our men advanced, led by Captain Swift, Lieutenant Butler, and myself, three abreast, the path not admitting more. When we had stolen up to within a few yards of the rebels, our leader gave the word ‘Charge!’ The word had scarcely passed his lips when, as if by enchantment, the whole bush was lighted up with a terrific volley. It seemed as if one of the extinct volcanoes so common here had suddenly opened its crater and begun to belch forth flames. The enemy were so close when they fired that some of their coarse powder was actually found sticking in the faces of our soldiers. For a moment our men staggered beneath this heavy fire, but it was only for a moment, for, immediately recovering themselves, they closed up in a line of skirmishers in the bush, and brought their rifles to bear on their dusky foes. I had taken cover behind a tree close to Lieutenant Butler, for the purpose of reloading my rifle, and even in that hour of danger I could not help admiring his bravery. He stood at the left front, a little in advance, cheering on the men by his voice and still more by his example. I saw him discharge his revolver right and left; three Maoris fell beneath his fire, and were dragged into the bush by their friends. I was still admiring his heroic courage and gallant bearing, when all at once I saw him sink slowly to the ground, as if his spirit were struggling against some mortal blow. I sprang forward with two others to his assistance, and on raising him in my arms he said, ‘Lead on the men, McKenna.’ Surprised at such an order, I looked round to see where the captain was, and there he lay by his side mortally wounded. No language can express the anguish I felt on seeing one who, though my superior officer, had always treated me with the greatest kindness, in this condition. If he had been my own brother I could not have felt it more. Poor Captain Swift! I shall never forget the last look you gave me, or cease to regret your loss.
Captain Swift directing M’Kenna to take command of the detachment.
“‘Are you wounded, sir?’ was my first exclamation.
“‘Oh, yes, McKenna; very severely,’ he replied.
“On seeing me loading my rifle, he said—
“‘Never mind loading. Take my revolver and lead on the men.’
“These were the last words this good and gallant soldier ever spoke to me. I mechanically took up the revolver, gave one last look at my dying officer, and then shouted, like one possessed—