The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 13, Issue 10 (January 2, 1939)

The Eviction

The Eviction.

Our small steam-yacht, the Nautilus, on the trip to the Island in 1895, took officials from Auckland to serve summonses to shift on the die-hards who had repented them of the bargain forced on them by the Government. The venerable Paratene was found sunning himself in front of his wharé. The bent, tattooed old fellow regarded his summons with great aversion. He would not touch it, so it was laid on the ground at his feet, after the Crown Native interpreter had translated it, and he picked up a manuka stake and war-danced feebly around the objectionable blue paper, making jabs at it as if he were spearing a foe. “Go to your Court!” he cried. “I won't go to your Court! This is my island, and I'll never leave it. I shall die on my island!” Then he threw down his stick, having sufficiently exhibited his defiance, and, with a change of tone, made request “Ho mai te tupeka.” He got his tobacco, squatted down at his door, lit up and was happy.

The poor old boy couldn't do the birds much harm; indeed it was not the Maoris who slaughtered the rare species on Hauturu, but mercenary pakehas, who were paid for the work by collectors who called themselves scientists. At least half the interest of the island lay in its Maori life. However, evicted Paratene was; he died at Whangaruru, on the mainland, a few months later. Tenetahi, too, and his wife Rahui te Kiri, were cleared off, and I have always thought that the manner of their clearance was not altogether fair, and that the question of compensation should have been readjusted. Tenetahi was a sailor and a scow-owner, a real old sea-dog. Well, I remember his round, merry face and his rolling walk—and his sturdy wife, too; Rahui was a first-rate sailorman herself. The pair of them, with a tattooed old Maori seaman named Te Maré, and a brace of boys ran their centreboard schooner, the Ida, carrying kauri logs in to the Auckland mills.

So, the Maoris, their few cattle and their goods having been cleared out of the island, the Lands and Survey Dept. set about making it a sanctuary for native birds. Some of us in Auckland thought Tenetahi and his wife should have been appointed custodians,
(Photo. by courtesy of Dr. W. R. B. Oliver, Dominion Museum.) Looking towards Herekohu Peak, Little Barrier Island.

(Photo. by courtesy of Dr. W. R. B. Oliver, Dominion Museum.)
Looking towards Herekohu Peak, Little Barrier Island.

because of their natural affection for the island, their knowledge of all its wild corners, and their interest in the bird life. I know that Tenetahi prevented hives of bees being landed on the island, for fear of harm to the honey-eating birds. Next time I visited Hauturu (it was in a three-masted schooner built for the South Sea trade, with Captain Frank Worsley, later of Polar exploration fame, as skipper), there was a pakeha family there. The Government Custodian had five or six daughters, and jolly fine, petticoated sailorboys they were, able to knock about in a boat in any kind of weather with the old man, and climb anywhere over their mountain-island home. That was many a year ago, too, and the laughing Nereides have gone.