The Blue Ribbon movement appears to have taken a singularly firm hold among the race. The so-called ‘king’ himself donned the badge with great ceremony at the solicitation of Sir George Grey, before leaving for England in 1884; and in every village are to be seen numbers of the young Maori ‘braves’ wearing the ‘bit of blue’ as among the most cherished of their decorations.
The outlook, then, as regards the conflict in which the race is at present engaged, is so far satisfactory. The question will, however, naturally be asked, whether the beneficial effects of the educative process are permanent, or whether, after the Maoris leave school, they relapse into their old habits and customs. The savage nature, we know, is very apt to reassert itself. Miss Bird tells us how the Ainos of Japan educated at Tokiô relapsed into barbarism on returning to their own people, retaining nothing but a knowledge of the Japanese language. Another writer recounts how an Indian girl, one of the most orderly of the pupils at a lady’s school, has been known, on feeling herself aggrieved, to withdraw to her room, let down her back hair, paint her face, and howl. Something of the sort, it must be confessed, is not altogether unknown in New Zealand. I once went to see a Maori haka or dance, interesting in its way, but not more edifying than native dances usually are. To my amazement, I saw among the performers a young lady whom I had known as a well-educated Maori girl, living in good circumstances, possessing excellent taste in dress, and who had been in the habit of taking her place with advantage in European ballrooms. On this occasion her costume, although not more décolletée than European evening dress frequently is, would have created considerable sensation in an English gathering, consisting as it did simply of a loose calico gown. A very handsome, well-informed half-caste, one of the most lady-like persons I ever met, once confessed to me that she could never look on at a Maori tangi or wake without feeling an irresistible inclination to rush in and tear her hair and howl like the rest. In fact, she admitted that she had to leave such scenes, or her emotions might have become too strong for her self-control. Again, I shall not soon forget the surprise created, a few years ago, when one of the most promising young Maoris in Wellington, who had been brought up with Europeans from childhood, who was being educated for a barrister, and who promised to be one of the ornaments of the profession, suddenly disappeared, and was next heard of as having flung off his European clothes and joined the fanatical followers of a half-demented Maori prophet known as Te Whiti. No inducements could prevail on him to return to civilisation, and he became one of the most devoted and credulous of the prophet’s adherents.
These, however, are exceptions, and not the rule. We have Maori members both of the Upper and Lower House who are a pattern to some other legislators in many respects, and can take their place in any European society. We have Maori clergymen both Anglican and Wesleyan who appear to make pastors of the most exemplary kind. There is as yet no Maori lawyer in practice, but some native lads are being trained in solicitors’ offices, and there is every prospect of their naturally keen wits enabling them to take a good position in the profession. So far as I am aware, they are not ambitious of becoming doctors; and some malicious people may be cruel enough to suggest that as regards the longevity of the race this is rather an advantage than otherwise.
Some of them are being trained to trades; and it is suggested by the organising inspector that every boy, after he has gone through the village school course, should, if his parents wish it, be apprenticed to some trade by the government, so as to insure his obtaining a proper industrial training. With the Maoris grounded in a proper knowledge of social and sanitary laws, with their moral and intellectual instincts properly guided and cultivated, there seems yet to be a hope that the prophecy so often made, that the race must speedily die out, may be falsified. This is the opinion of a medical man to whom I have already referred. In his Report to the native Minister, Dr Ginders, after mentioning the prevalent diseases among the Maoris, says: ‘In my opinion, the production, and severity, and the spread of these diseases are determined by two main factors: first, the influence of the wharepuni (sleeping-hut), and secondly, the consumption of putrid food. Compared with these two gigantic evils, alcohol is nowhere. Were there no wharepunis, I believe the Maori would be a successful rival of his European neighbour in sobriety and industry; but with his blood vitiated by the foul air of these hotbeds of disease, he has neither strength nor inclination to work, and it would be odd, indeed, if he had no craving for stimulants. I am inclined to credit the wharepuni with more than half the infant mortality. Not only is the child injured directly by this devitalising influence, but indirectly through the mother, whose milk is diminished in quantity and impoverished in quality by the same cause. I believe the growing intelligence of the rising generation of Maoris has already checked the rapid decadence of the race. I believe, too, that these evils will gradually die out, and we shall find the native population increasing pari passu.’
New Zealand at the present time, it will be seen, has a grand opportunity for assisting in the achievement of a civilising feat which, if successful, will go very far to confute those pessimists who declare that our modern civilisation is a delusion and a snare, utterly destructive to the weaker races with whom it is brought in contact.
BY ORDER OF THE LEAGUE.
CHAPTER VIII.
The first act in the drama was about to be played—the puppets all arranged, all acting for themselves, never heeding the hand of fate in it. Hector le Gautier triumphant, but troubled occasionally by the loss of his device, yet trusting to his own good fortune and matchless audacity to pull him through.
The curious in such matters, the idle folks who dream and speculate, had food for reflection in their Times next morning, for on the front sheet on the second column appeared an announcement. It was vague; but one man understood it. It ran:
Moidore.—How reckless of you to throw away a life on the hazard of a die. They are all safe but yours. Where is that? In two months you will have to deliver, and then beware of the wrath of the Crimson Nine. It is not too late yet. Under the clock at C. × at nine—any night. Use the sign, and good will come of it.—Eastern Eagle.