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Potona or Unknown New Zealand

Chapter IX. Winter Weather and Irksome Waiting—Boat-Building—Seal-Hunting

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Chapter IX. Winter Weather and Irksome Waiting—Boat-Building—Seal-Hunting.

We had now been over six weeks ashore on this coast.

The winter had fairly set in. Occasionally we had a fine day, but very rarely indeed. As a rule, if it wasn't raining it was drizzling; if it was neither raining nor drizzling, it was hailing; if it was none of the three, it was snowing, and very often all four at one and the same time.

The lake rose higher and higher, until at last it was within a few yards of the hut door. As, however, we were situated on a rising ground, we felt very little anxiety on that account.

During all this time we had not forgotten the projected building of a boat to carry us to the settlements when the fine weather returned. Accordingly, when everything was made snug and comfortable in the hut, we employed part of page 54 our time in cutting planks and other timber necessary for that purpose, and which we were able to work at inside the hut to a great extent. Thus, on fine days it was only necessary for us to bring in straight pieces of wood of different sizes and lengths, so that all we should have to do when the time came would be to transport the pieces to the beach of the bay below us, and there put them together.

One day, it having been tolerably fine, two of the men, Spanish Joe and Smith, started down for a ramble to the site of our old camp at the head of the bay, and returned in the evening with the report that they had observed numerous seals and sea-lions on the rocks and swimming about, the stormy weather having no doubt driven them in for shelter. As their skins would be of no little value to us, and would fetch a high price at the settlements, we determined to undertake an expedition against them at as early an opportunity as possible, and procure as many skins as we could. A fortnight, however, elapsed before we were able to carry out this object. The heavy rains which prevailed during this time, though they prevented us descending to the beach, did not deter us from fashioning rude harpoons and other instruments necessary to wage war against the seals. What caused us most trouble was the want of rope for lines, but we managed to manufacture a tolerable substitute with native flax, of which we found great quantities growing in our neighborhood. Everything was at length ready for our expedition—knives had been sharpened and heavy clubs made, with which, together with our harpoons, two fowling-pieces, and the rifle found in the seaman's chest, we hoped to spread dire destruction amongst the unoffending seals.

The morning arrived at last, when the cook, who had risen as usual at daybreak, woke us with the announcement that there was every prospect of a fine day. This joyful page 55 news was hailed with every demonstration of delight by all the party, and had the effect of turning everyone out of bed in a twinkling. The excitement grew still higher when the sun rose in all his glory above the mountains behind us, promising us a lovely day.

After a hurried breakfast, everyone, except the cook, armed himself with his especial weapon; and when all was ready, off we started downwards. On our way we noticed huge trees which had been uprooted and washed away by the torrent. In some places they formed natural bridges across it; in others they formed dams, blocking up the stream until it had flooded its banks for yards on each side, and then rushed over its impediments in waterfalls. When we reached the site of our first camp, we found the small flat covered with debris brought down by the floods.

On arriving within view of the bay, our hearts were gladdened with the sight of great numbers of seals and sealions basking on the rocks which formed the shores on each side, or swimming about in the water.

“Oh! for a boat!” was the general exclamation, but that not being procurable just at present, we were obliged to do without it, and conduct our warfare on shore only.

Dividing into two parties, one under Harry's leadership, the other under mine, we began very cautiously to approach the animals, Harry taking the left side of the bay, and I the right. It was no easy matter to make our way along the slippery rocks or through the thick underwood without alarming the seals; but at last we found ourselves within a few yards of a group which, evidently asleep, lay basking in the sun on a smooth flat rock. Rushing amongst them, the men began striking right and left, each selecting a separate victim. Peter Smith with the rifle, and I with my fowling-piece, easily knocked a couple over without a page 56 struggle; not so with Joe and Moroney. The former, after some manœuvring, managed to put his victim hors de combat, and turned his attention to another; but Moroney, after dealing a tremendous brute some fearful blows on the head with his club, and making no impression on it, seized a harpoon and buried it almost up to the socket in its body. The seal then commenced making for the water, and Pat, not being able to hold it by means of the harpoon, placed himself between it and the sea, and began belaboring it across the snout and head with his club. The seal made at him with open mouth, causing Pat to slip, and the next thing we saw was him and the seal disappearing together over the edge of the rock.

I had just despatched a second animal as it was nearing the water, and on seeing what had occurred to Pat, I seized the flax rope attached to the harpoon, which was still sticking in the seal, and made fast the end round a tree close by. I then returned to the edge of the rock in time to see Pat's red poll appear above water. Knowing him to be a good swimmer, I paid no attention to him, but began hauling at the seal, which, having risen to the surface, was plunging and struggling about a few yards from the shore. Finding it could not free itself, it turned its attention to Pat, who had just reached the rock underneath me, and was proceeding to climb out. Rushing at him with open jaws, it was evidently determined to wreak summary vengeance on him for the pain he had caused it. Fortunately, however, he managed to clamber up the rock out of its way before it could reach him. The seal, finding Pat had escaped it, turned upon one of its fellows which had risen close by, and they began a most terrible fight. Soon the wounded one became exhausted from loss of blood, and we had then no difficulty in pulling it close up to the rocks and despatching it.

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We harpooned two others in the water, and finished them off in a like manner; after which, the remainder having all disappeared, we proceeded to reckon up our slain, and found we had killed nine large seals.

After a short rest we began the work of skinning them, a not very pleasant job. Having finished this, we stretched the skins out to dry on the rocks, placing heavy stones along their edges to keep them from shrinking. It being still early, we lighted a fire and roasted a duck which we had shot just before leaving the hut. This, with a biscuit each, formed a very acceptable repast, to which we did full justice. While thus engaged, we heard a “cooey” from the opposite shore, and on turning our attention in that direction we saw our comrades busy at work with their prey.

“How many have you got?” sang out Harry.

“Nine!” I answered. “How many have you?”

“Six!” he replied.

Fifteen seals—not a bad day's work—and if the weather continued fine, we intended having some more battles with the grim monsters.

About an hour before sundown we rolled up the seal-skins, and hung them up to the branches of a tree, intending, when we had procured a good number, to build a raft and convey them to the head of the bay.

We rejoined our comrades where we had parted, and lost no time in making our way up to the hut. We found Swabs waiting for us, with a savory supper spread on the table. After a good wash we all sat down, and proceeded to make sad havoc with the roast ducks and boiled fish, which our good cook had served up to perfection. After a short discussion of the day's adventures and future occupations, we retired to our respective couches, and were soon in the land of Nod.

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For several days after this we continued to make raids upon the seals, until at last we had collected over a hundred skins. These we had brought, by the means of a small raft, up to the head of the bay, where we cured them as far as lay in our power.

It is most likely we should have kept up seal-hunting until there was not an animal of the species left in the bay, had not our expeditions been put a summary stop to by the recommencing of stormy weather, which drove us to seek amusement and adventure as best we could inside our hut, having first erected a rough cover near the beach, under which we placed the skins.

Once again the rain came down in a steady pour, without intermission, day after day and week after week, until we wondered we were not washed into the sea. But however hard it rained the lake never came within some yards of our hut.

All this dreary time it was tedious enough to us having to remain so much indoors. I believe we should have died from sheer ennui if it had not been for Pat's “jackass” and Smart's parrots, which were an unfailing source of amusement to us.

Pat had never been able to teach his bird to say a word, but the parrots did nothing but chatter, partly intelligible and a great deal of unintelligible nonsense all day long.

“Swabs! Swabs! Breakfast, breakfast!” was heard the first thing in the morning from one or other of them, usually eliciting a not very polite but expressive response from the cook.

“Oh! Swabs! Swabs! Naughty Swabs! Swabs! Black sweep, sweep, sweep!” and other choice sentences issued from the birds' beaks. Almost everything, however, they said, or rather chattered, was an objurgation against

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“Rory” or his master. Sometimes the two parrots would quarrel with each other, and then the language was something extraordinary.

One morning the cook having given one of them a larger piece of biscuit than he gave the other, Parrot No. 1, who had the small share, after examining each piece with a critical eye, turned away from its own with a most disgusted and injured air. Flying on to Smart's shoulder, it yelled out—

“Swabs! Swabs! Black jackass! Swabs!”

Parrot No. 2 having finished his own piece of biscuit, now began on Parrot No. 1's piece, which, the latter seeing, flew at the former in a fearful rage, took the biscuit away, and called No. 2 all the names in his extensive vocabulary, rattling out one after the other with a glibness and emphasis that would have done credit to the neighborhood of Billingsgate; after which, perching itself again on its master's shoulder, he kept muttering—

“No you don't! You don't! No! no! no! Not if I know it! Black sweep! sweep! sweep!” And then, as if lauding up its own high knowledge of respectability, it sang out, “Pretty Poll! Pretty Poll! Gentleman Poll!”—all the while ruffling its feathers up and looking the picture of integrity.

To tell the truth I never saw two birds who could say as much as these two; and as for laughing, why they put poor “Rory's” nose quite out of joint at last.