He knew neither hunger, thirst, nor cold, nor fear, nor jealousy, and approached as near as it lay in fallen man to the estate of our renowned ancestor in the garden before the presentation of Eve. He was content, wanting no Eve, or Cain, or Abel. And for ten solitary years his wish was gratified: he was unapproached, and reigned unchallenged.
In 1839, the captain of a vessel from Sidney offered to buy of Mate-oro a portion of the island of Ware-kauri that lay about the bay of Waitangi, then owned and possessed by a branch of the tribe commanded by Nga-te-Toma. The terms were agreed upon, payment to be made on delivery. But the Nga-te-Toma could not be prevailed upon to deliver their possessions of black loam on demand, the more especially as Mate-oro was to handle the purchase-money. War was declared, and the contumacious Te-Toma were driven in the following spring into their stronghold near the beach, and regularly invested.
At this juncture, the bark Cuba, having on board one Dieffenbach, a naturalist, dropped anchor in the bay, entered into negotiations with both parties, and, moved by the spirit of Christian charity, ended by taking off the Te-Toma at night in boats to their ship—first the women and children, followed by the naked warriors, stained with ochre, armed, feathered, and equipped. The last to leave set fire to the huts and abandoned property. The flames gave the alarm to their opponents, who rushed through the fort to the beach, where they arrived just too late, and presented, illuminated by the burning village in the background, a vivid picture of baffled rage, going through the war-dance with fearful yells and contortions. But they danced in vain, though the exercise may have afforded them a melancholy gratification. The Cuba forthwith put to sea, and landed her human freight on the northeastern shore among friends; but not until she had taken from them deeds in fee of all their possessions in the west. Then, judging wisely that Mate-oro would be found in no mood at that moment to discuss their lately acquired title, she put to sea and bore down on Rangi-haute, being the first vessel to cross the channel since Koche passed over in his canoe ten years before.
Dieffenbach landed with a party, and in botanizing the isle was led to the bower by a small spiral column of white smoke that arose from the oven. No inhabitant was to be seen. The summer-house was ransacked of nets, pearl-hooks, knives, and baskets; the oven opened, and a spread of roast duck, hen, and karaka highly relished. The dark, transparent water of the spring reflected the faces of the robbers, as they bent over to drink, with a distinctness of outline unattainable by the white water of other lands; but when Koche returned to his habitation, which he did when the ship was well at sea, the reflection had vanished from his mirror, the dinner from his oven, and the furniture from his bower. As from a rock he watched the receding bark, freighted with his peace of mind, he hoped and prayed she would pass Ware-kauri without touching; but she ran in nevertheless, communicated with her friends, and related the visit to the isle. The news that Rangi-haute was inhabited soon reached Mate-oro, who read the riddle at once, and soon after went over in person in pursuit of his quondam slave.
The party landed before noon, and, separating, closed in upon the bower from different directions to find it empty. They soon, however, struck a fresh trail, which led them down the coast to a small inlet, in which it disappeared. Finding it did not issue on the opposite side, they ascended either bank, watching closely for signs, until the bed of the stream dwindled to a rivulet and entered a thicket; when the trail was taken up and followed with difficulty through bushes and underwood, matted with vines, until it failed totally. Circuits were made, and much time wasted in fruitless search, but the thread was lost, when the leader suddenly ordered the party back on the trail to the mouth of the inlet, which they crossed, and moved down the beach looking for footprints in the sand. Late in the afternoon they arrived opposite a coral rock that stood out a mile in the sea. The water was smooth, and a man swam out to reconnoitre. They watched him until he disappeared behind the rock, which presented a bluff to the shore, and waited patiently to hear from him, but an hour had elapsed and he made no sign. The general opinion was that he had been devoured by a shark. Mate-oro thought otherwise. He sent back a couple of men with orders to bring down the boat at daybreak, set a watch on the beach, built a fire, and went into camp.
A favorable breeze springing up, the boat came in early, took aboard the party, and rowed out. In a deep fissure in the rock, from which he was unable to extricate himself, they found the Indian who had swum out the evening before. He told them that when he turned, and was about to land, he was seized by the foot and drawn under the water, and, being tired and out of breath, almost instantly lost consciousness.
When he recovered he found himself in utter darkness, and thought he had passed into the spirit-land and was imbedded in a mountain for punishment. After a time he had looked up and seen the stars, but could make nothing of his condition. He had seen or heard no one, but as well as he could recollect, the grasp on his ankle felt like the hand of a man. Several pieces of fresh broken coral were found, but no footprints.
The party hastened ashore, and, leaving a man with the boat, moved down the beach, and an hour later struck the trail coming out of the water, and pursued it up a frightful chasm in the mountain, apparently without an outlet. But as they neared the head they discovered the point at which the trail began the ascent, and abandoning their dogs, the men, after much difficulty and danger, gained the summit; when, to their inexpressible astonishment, the trail led them directly back to their camp on the beach—on reaching which they found their boatman lying on the sand bound hand and foot with a running vine, gagged, and stunned by a blow on the head, and the boat gone.
The rage of Mate-oro was excessive, and expended itself upon the ill-starred boatman, whom he ordered to be tossed into the surf—a step he speedily regretted and attempted to rectify; but when dragged out to be cross-questioned, the body could return no answer; its shade had quitted it, and was paddling a phantom canoe over the Stygian river to the shadowy fishing-grounds.
The pursuers, full of wrath, set to work and built a korari, in which, when the wind became favorable, they made their way home, calling down maledictions upon the head of the rebellious runaway. During their stay they scoured the island for Koche, and kept a lookout for their lost boat, but saw nothing of either.