Other formats

    Adobe Portable Document Format file (facsimile images)   TEI XML file   ePub eBook file  

Connect

    mail icontwitter iconBlogspot iconrss icon

Henry Ancrum: A Tale of the Last War in New Zealand, Volume 2

Chapter XVI

page 197

Chapter XVI.

Yes, Henry Ancrum had escaped, he had got away from an existence amongst barbarians, to all the pleasures of civilized life; but was he happy? Ah, my friends, who honour me by reading this book, if you look back into your past lives have you ever achieved any great success and not found that there was some drawback to it? Have you ever mingled in some pleasure and not discovered a thorn amongst the roses? If you have not experienced these things you must have been lucky, for they are the general lot of mortals.

page 198

Henry had escaped, but Henry could not call himself happy; Celia had loved and trusted him, and he had deserted her; true he had acted on the impulse of the moment, true he had acted without reflection, but was that an excuse? He could hardly allow it,—others might forgive him but he could scarcely forgive himself. But there was no going back now—the die was cast; had he attempted it he would be considered a deserter from the British army, and even if he braved that peril he would merely have met death at the hands of his late associates. No, there was nothing for it but to wait, and see what fate would bring.

It would be impossible to describe Celia's despair, when the Maories returned from their fruitless chase and Henry Ancrum did not return with them. She rushed frantically about from one person to another page 199asking news of him, but she could hear nothing. Those who had been in front pursuing the fugitives had of course not seen him, and those who had abandoned the chase when half-way across the swamp had lost sight of him. What could have become of him? Celia thought;—that he should voluntarily have tried to escape never crossed her imagination—that he should now try to leave her, impossible! The worst that occurred to her was that, possibly tired and weary, he might have fallen into the hands of the Pakehas, and that they would not let him come back. But ah, she thought, even if this is the case, he will come back some day. But she did not really believe even this. What she considered must be the case was, that he must have strained or hurt himself in crossing the swamp, and that he would crawl back after dusk.

page 200

The whole of the Maori forces crossed the Whahi river that day and built a pah, and made rifle-pits just at the spot where we have mentioned the wharies were seen in the morning. They remained there that night, but Celia spent her night on the borders of the swamp searching for Henry. Ah, poor wounded bird! how sad, how weary, how ill she looked in the morning. She had not found him; still she said to herself, "He will come back to me, nothing can have happened to him, the Almighty Being the good missionary taught me to worship would not take him from me. He sees all things, He knows that Henry was all I had in the world, that I had nothing else, that I cared for only him, that if I lost him I could prefer death to life. Oh, no, He would not take Henry from me!"

On the morning of this the second day the Maories had advanced to a hill about page 201eight or nine hundred yards from the fort, where they had made rifle-pits; these they had constructed in a very ingenious way, by commencing to dig on the other side of the brow, furthest from the fort, which was rather steep, and digging on till they could just see over the summit, being covered from fire all the time. From these rifle-pits they kept up a fire on the fort all day, which did not do much damage, though a few of the defenders were wounded. The garrison also fired at the Maories whenever they saw one show himself, which was not often.

On the following morning, which was the third after their arrival, the Maories appeared to be determined on a serious attack on the fort, as their whole force turned out from the pah they had first constructed, and moved towards it; but just at this moment some of the chiefs observed out at sea towards Tauranga two long black page 202lines of smoke, which they immediately fancied might proceed from steamers, and it was not long before their conjectures proved to be correct, and two men-of-war steamers were observed moving rapidly down the coast. The effect was instantaneous. The Maories well knew that from the depth of water off the coast the steamers could approach as near as they chose, and could then shell their position, which was quite defenceless, as, although the ground was bold and precipitous towards the sea, the tops of the hills were flat and open and devoid of cover; again, if they remained where they were the steamers could go beyond them down the coast and cut off their retreat, which was along the belt of sand close to the sea, the rest of the ground between Maketu and the mainland being, as we have mentioned, a deep swamp.

page 203

The korero did not last long; some of the bolder spirits were for staying where they were and braving the danger, but the great majority thought the "better part of valour was in discretion." In fact they—

"Stood not on the order of their going,
But went at once."

Celia had passed the second day after the arrival of the hostile Maories at Maketu in a state bordering on stupefaction. As we have said, she had searched all the night before for Henry Ancrum; in the morning she had viewed the swamp from the nearest heights, but no one was to be seen; now she believed he must have been taken by the Pakehas, but the question was how could she get to him. She sat thinking and thinking, but she could invent nothing.

On the following morning, when the Maories advanced towards the fort, she determined to go with them, to dare every-page 204thing in order to be near if they should succeed in capturing it, and Henry be in danger. As we have seen, the appearance of the two war-steamers turned the attacking force back and determined them to retire. At this juncture Celia's relatives closed round her—they would hear of no remonstrance—they forced her away, they forced her to fly with them. She went almost mechanically, hardly knowing what she did, never thinking of danger, only thinking of Henry, and how she could see him again. In the meantime most of the Maories had rushed down the steep sides of the bluff old head of Whihi, and had crossed the river, the tide being fortunately out, and were hurrying up the opposite beach. Ihaka with his tribe and Celia followed.

The two war-steamers had now come up. To their surprise they saw no one on the page 205top of the hills, but they concluded that the Maories must be concealing themselves in the slight inequalities of the ground, and began to shell the heights.

This caused some delay. The retreating Maories they could not see, as they were concealed from view for some time by the high hills on the left bank of the river: but after a time, as they proceeded up the beach, the foremost fugitives came into sight from the decks of the vessels, who immediately steamed after them.

Reader, can you picture to yourself the scene? On the right is a dreary swamp covered with tall rushes (called raupo by the natives), interspersed with pools of water glittering in the morning sunlight. In the centre, stretching right away from us, is a line of low sand hills, and the sandy beach along which the crowd of Maories are now hurrying; in that crowd page 206are many women, for the Maori woman often accompanies her husband to battle, and the difference of dress gives even that mass of fugitives a picturesque appearance. On the left is the sea with its long line of breakers rolling ceaselessly in, each in its turn catching the rays of the sun on its summit, and losing them again as it rolls over, and dashes on the beach, wetting the feet of the flying foe. In the background, on the right, is a range of high hills; in the centre, far out at sea, can be seen the volcano of White Island, sending up its ceaseless column of steam and smoke into the clear blue sky; and on the left are perceived the two long low black hulls of the steamers.—A flash is seen from one of them, a whistling, hurtling sound is heard in the air, whish-whish, whish-whish, it comes—a roar; it has burst—but it has burst short, and no one is hurt.

page 207

Another flash; again that startling sound. This time the shell is too high, it passes over the dusky crowd, and buries itself in an island in the marsh, where it explodes with a loud thud. Once more the flash is seen, once more the sound is heard, but alas! not alike is the result; this time the shell explodes right over the heads of the fugitives, scattering destruction far and wide. How shrill the cries of the wounded are! but there is one who will cry no more—there is one whose sorrows are ended—a large piece of the shell struck Celia on the forehead, and her death must have been instantaneous. She could have suffered no pain. Perhaps it was better so; she would not have cared to live had she known her lover had deserted her.