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Visit To Taupo.

During the session of Parliament held at Wellington in 1867 I had heard much of the grazing capabilities of the interior of the North Island, in the neighbourhood of Lake Taupo and round about Tongariro and Ruapehu. The result was that, with certain others who had persuaded themselves of its first-class quality, I made up my mind to visit it, and accordingly obtained letters of introduction to the chief owners of land in and about Taupo.

It was arranged that we should travel into the interior by the Hawke's Bay route. The party consisted of Colonel (now Sir George) Whitmore, myself, and an experienced surveyor (who was also an interpreter), with an assistant surveyor, and a Maori chief, whose knowledge of the country and general intelligence qualified him to be of considerable assistance to us.

I am in no mood at this time to record our every day's progress along the track leading from Napier to Taupo. From Colonel Whitmore's station we made the River Mohaka, which we crossed that evening, staying the first night at a sheep station not long formed. Beyond this we soon plunged into a somewhat broken countrt—so broken, indeed, that the Maori chief, in describing it, held up his hands, with the fingers spread out, and said, "Like that— all up and down." This description of the nature of the country proved to be perfectly true.

We soon entered the primeval forest, studded with timber trees of gigantic girth, and festooned with creepers of tropical growth. Here and there amongst these almost inaccessible hills were pointed out to us the remains of Maori strongholds; which, had the owners been as wise as they were warlike, would have remained in their possession to this day. But, loving war, and believing in the possibility of sweeping all the European settlers on the East Coast into the sea, they left these fastnesses, and went out to meet their doom. They risked all, and they lose everything. Many of the prisoners who have been transported to the Chatham Islands belonged to this part of the country.

Before reaching Lake Taupo we met with a few Maoris, still clinging to their ancient haunts—old men whose fighting days were over; wives and children of the banished page 206warriors; widows and orphans of the slain. When they were told that the man who stood before them was the great chief Whitmore—the warrior that had scattered all their tribes—they opened their eyes to take a good look at him, stared, wondered, and wept.

Leaving these thickly-timbered ranges, we found ourselves suddenly in the open country. Travelling now became easier, and we lost no time in pushing on towards the lake. We had by this time made the discovery that our companion, the Maori chief, was a pleasant fellow and a good guide. We were now entering country in which he had a large proprietary interest; and at every stage in our progress we were meeting with men who seemed ready enough to recognise his authority as a chief. Paul Hapi, our reliable guide, compared favourably with men of his own race, and by no means unfavourably in some respects with many of our noble selves. He may have been a savage at heart, and when provoked to anger as difficult to control as the majority of his countrymen; but he had the manners of a gentleman, was hospitable and courteous, and never forgot to impress upon his people the becomingness of treating us with consideration. He not only gave orders that we were not to be disturbed by untimely visits of the idle and curious, but he kept himself to himself, ate, drank, and slept in a tent or whare apart from us, and never dreamed of forcing his society upon us uninvited.

The instinctive politeness natural to so large a number of the Native race was very noticeable when we approached the precincts of a pa. The occupants rose to receive us. Mats were then spread on the ground for us to rest on, and preparations quickly made to supply us with something to eat. They never failed to put before us the best that they had to give. All this time none of them showed any impertinent curiosity to try and make out the object of our visit. When we had finished eating, and showed the slightest desire to enter into conversation, they were pleased to fall in with our humour, and showed themselves able to hold their own in a discussion of things past, present, or to come.

On riding through the country on that first trip, I was naturally anxious—over anxious, my Maori friend and guide thought—to know all that could be told as to the page 207quality of the country that lay ahead of us, its soil and its grasses; and from time to time I asked questions concerning it. I was at last told to have patience. "Tell Cox," said this Maori philosopher, "that to-morrow we shall be riding through the country he is asking about; and that if he keeps his eyes open be can judge for himself as to what it is."

We quite understood, before leaving Napier, that up to the point that we had now reached no opposition to our progress would he offered; but we were at the same time warned that it was by no means certain that, having reached this point, we should not be politely but firmly told to right-about face, and return to the place from whence we had strayed.

We were invited to pitch our tents within a Maori enclosure on the banks of the beautiful lake, whose waters glistened like a sea of glass. Here we soon shook down into place, and, after due time had been given us in which to bathe, eat, and rest, a conversation was started, and ended in the making of set speeches. Our interpreter introduced us as rangatiras in search of grazing country; and we were trotted out in turn, and expected to say something in explanation and justification of our appearance in that remote part of Maoridom. We were asked to state definitely what we really wanted; and we were expected to prove to the satisfaction of the Maori mind that not only were our intentions good, but that if we were allowed to carry out our plans, the Maoris as well as ourselves would be benefited by the experiment.

This was a large subject for discussion, and afforded a good opportunity for talking, or, rather, for speech-making. I think this was the first occasion on which I had heard one of the rising generation of Maoris make a set speech. The man I refer to was quite a young man, not more than twenty years of age; and for half an hour he spoke with a self-possession and a fluency that were simply astonishing; yet, if our interpreter was to be relied on, without committing himself or his people to anything very definite.

In the year 1863 or 1864 I had heard the old warrior Hapuku, of East-Coast celebrity, speak at Napier. This celebrated chief had filled more than one page in the history page 208of the wars of New Zealand; and now, in his old age, he seemed willing to aid the Europeans in the preservation of peace throughout the land. Old as he was, he was still something to look at—a king of men. And when he spoke, it was impossible to deny that he was an orator, if not a statesman. On the occasion referred to he was holding forth in the presence of a large number of our parliamentary chiefs, then on their way south. They also, in their turn, were trotted out, and put up to speak; and I am not saying more than I thought at the time when I say that, in my judgment, no man among them seemed more to the manner born than did old Hapuku.

In old days, on an occasion when the Imperial forces were actively engaged in fighting with the Maoris north of Auckland, a chief, who was one of our allies, and was not highly impressed with the generalship displayed by the commander of the combined forces, was excitedly criticizing the plan of attack. The colonel commanding asked the interpreter more than once what all the talk was about. The interpreter, knowing full well that what was said was not complimentary, and not intended to be so, shirked giving the informaiion, saying, "Oh, sir, it's nothing of consequence; it's just Maori bounce." "But," said the officer in command, "I insist, Mr. Interpreter, upon being told what he says, and all that he says. It is important, in the position I occupy, that I should be made aware of all that is passing through his mind. Remember he is our ally, and a very intelligent man, I must admit." "Well, sir, he says you are a hold hass!"

On the following morning, travelling south, we came to a pa of some importance, where we had reason to expect an unwillingness on the part of the Maoris to allow us to proceed further, and, with this doubt lurking in our minds, we sent on our Maori chief and guide to announce our approach. The occupants of the pa mustered in some strength to receive us. They invited us within the enclosure, and finally led us up to a corner of the pa, where we squatted on mats spread out for our accommodation. True to their instinct of exhibiting no undue haste to ask questions as to whence we had come, whither we were going, or upon what business we were travelling, they allowed us to take our own time in opening up a conversation. Fronting us on the page 209one side were the women and children, on the other side the men, to the number of thirty or forty, mostly young. When this formidable body of Maori warriors—men, most of them, who had been in arms against us in the Waikato and West Coast campaign—filed out of the whare, and formed themselves into a group, Colonel Whitmore, with the instinct of a soldier, touched me on the arm, and said, "There's not a man squatted there who is not possessed of a rifle and ammunition, both within easy reach. Was I not right, when leaving Napier, to propose that we should arm with revolvers before putting ourselves in the power of such men?" It seemed to me, however, that he was far from right; that, for people moving through the country as we were, and desiring to negotiate with the Maoris for the leasing of their lands, it would have been pure folly to carry revolvers.

At length our interpreter got on his legs to speak, telling them the old story, that we were travelling onwards to inspect the grazing country in and about Tongariro and Ruapehu, with a view, if it pleased the eye, of taking up a block of it upon which to depasture sheep; that, although we were moved to do this in our own interests, operations such as we contemplated could not bo carried out without materially benefiting the Maori inhabitants of those districts; that when the country was stocked with sheep, and establishments formed such as were contemplated, employment would be within easy reach of a considerable number of the Maoris, and that men willing to work would find work, and that some of the luxuries as well as the necessaries of life would be introduced amongst them. All this and more was stated by our representative.

This explanation of our presence in their territory at an end, we had not long to wait before a Maori rose to speak in reply. He spoke with great deliberation and at some length, but after the manner of a man very careful not to commit himself or his friends to anything definite touching our proposed plans. What he did say, however, was exceedingly interesting. He said the Maoris had got to regard us as a race or nation whose restlessness knew no bounds, whose enterprise was certainly the wonder of the world, but whose work done in New Zealand did not often result in permanent advantage of any sort to the Maori; that page 210the majority of his countrymen were content with their surroundings; that they knew of no life to be preferred to that which their ancestors had led before them; and that they cared not to go out of their way to encourage the settlement amongst them of a race whose presence, sooner or latter, always resulted in the native owners of the land being first impoverished and finally wiped out.

He was followed by one who seemed more inclined to tolerate our presence in the country. But it was merely toleration at the best. He said we might move on, or we might go back: our movements in any direction were really nothing to him or his people. We were at liberty to do again what we had already done: we had come amongst them uninvited; we might pass on unhindered; but we were to understand that they had no active sympathy with us, and no expectation of any good likely to result from our explorations and promised operations.

Number Three then rose, and thanked us for our courtesy in explaining our views and intentions. He acknowledged our enterprise in planning to establish ourselves so far inland, and expressed his confidence that our presence amongst them must result in gain to the Maori; that elsewhere he had seen the great and abiding results of the enterprise of the pakeha, and that he, at any rate, was in a mood to trust to our right-mindedness so to carry out our scheme of occupation and settlement as not to involve the extinction—the utter annihilation— of the Maori race. And before seating himself, he spoke out in plain language, welcoming us to the district—to come into it whenever it suited us, and to go out of it when it pleased us.

He then came forward two or three paces, holding out one hand, as though he wished and expected us to meet him half-way, as it were. Our interpreter, however, held back, and we, having constituted him our arbiter elegantiarum in matters of Maori etiquette, submitted to be restrained by him. Seeing us unmoved, calm, and dignified, as became representatives of our race—for we made no forward movemenr—they at length rushed up to us in a body, seized hold of us by both hands, and heartily welcomed us after Maori fashion.

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Great preparations were then made for a feast, to which we were invited, and did full justice. Amongst things good for food, and in the proper season freely indulged in and put before visitors, is whitebait. Another delicacy, cooked as only Maoris know how to cook them, are eels. Eels, even as Europeans cook them, are palatable, but they are not to be compared to eels dressed in simple Maori fashion. And this is how to do it: First catch your eel; wind him round and round a stick; cover him with fragrant leaves secured to the stick, so that the atmosphere be wholly excluded; place the stick in the ground before a blazing fire; turn it about as often as necessary, and, when he is cooked, eat him; and don't be ashamed to confess before all men that professed cooks have something yet to learn about cooking eels. The particular leaf used at Taupo to wind round the eel I have forgotten, if I ever knew the name of it; but the recollection of the thing cooked, its tender delicacy and aromatic fragrance, is still one of the pleasures of memory.

After a free indulgence in these good things, one of our party, a little forgetful of the good advice given us in matters of Maori etiquette, was in a desperate hurry to do a little business with them, wanting to know whether a good-looking horse grazing within sight was for sale. A Maori sitting by his side patted him on the shoulder, and said, quietly, "Young man, my advice to you is to take things a little more easily than you seem to be in the habit of doing. You will certainly be an old man before your time if you give yourself no rest—rushing thus into business with such unbecoming haste."

Journeying onward, we camped for the night at Lake Roto-aira, at the foot of the sometimes lively Tongariro, visiting on the way and bathing in the hot springs at the head of Lake Taupo. The settlement in the neighbourhood of these hot springs is where Te Heuheu was smothered in a landslip in the year 1846. His son and successor was amongst the important chiefs whom we saw, and who entertained us, in our progress through the Taupo country. I have but one story to tell of the hospitality of all the Natives whom we encountered in our travels. They gave us willingly at all times a share of all that they had in store, and not infrequently sent us on our journey laden with game.

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They remarked upon the strange ways of the pakeha, and humorously dwelt upon the different interests that seemed to occupy them. "One party pakehas visiting the country," said they, "seemed to spend all their time in picking up stones; another in looking for gold; another in picking oft the leaves of big trees and looking hard at them; another in digging up shrubs and flowers; and now you pakehas seem only to be interested in grass, and wondering whether sheep would thrive upon it. Truly the ways of the pakeha are strange ways. The Maori is often puzzled to make them out, and can never expect to do all and be all that your wise men recommend."

We saw, feeding on the lower spurs of Tongariro, some of the fattest native-grass-fed merino sheep that could he seen anywhere; and before we left the neighbourhood we had an opportunity of tasting the mutton.

The little that I have to say of the climate of Taupo is all in its favour. I know of no other, north or south, to be preferred to it. It is as far removed from the semitropical sultriness of Auckland and its immediate neighbourhood as it is from the intense cold of the South Island. It is cold enough at certain seasons of the year to necessitate a coat, and warm enough during the rest of the year to make life enjoyable. At Wellington, during the session of Parliament, when men from ail parts of New Zealand were to be met with, the subject of climate often came to be discussed. I never yet knew a man who was not at heart a provincialist on this question. Every man not belonging to Wellington maintained stoutly that the climate of the province which had the honour to be represented by him was far and away the best in New Zealand; all agreeing, however, that in this respect Wellington was behind the rest of the world, It used to be said—out of Wellington, of course—that a Wellington man was recognisable all over New Zealand by his unconscious habit of clapping his hand to his hat to steady it at a street crossing, even on the calmest of days.

On our return along the banks of the lake we stopped at Opepe, where it had been arranged that I was to meet the principal owners of the land. The view from Opepe across the country, in the direction of Tongariro and Ruapehu, is very striking. At a distance of thirty or forty miles these giants of mountains stand out conspicuously—the one page 213capped with eternal snow, the other steaming at every pore, and closely resembling a dilapidated pyramid. They are surrounded by hills of varying height.

Seen from a distance the country upon which we were now camped looks—what it by no means is—the perfection of sheep country. Look down at your feet and you see a pumice soil only slightly coated over with vegetable mould, and so loose and friable that tussock grass fares badly in it. In one of my subsequent trips to Taupo I met a man who had been in the South Island, and who knew what a strong hold of the ground this grass takes there. I asked him whether the grass about Taupo did not remind him of the Canterbury Plains. He replied, "There is this resemblance: it is certainly tussock grass north, and tussock grass south; but there is this important difference: in the north, a horse nibbling at it pulls it up by the roots; while in the south it is the fashion to tether a horse to a bunch of it."

—A. Cox

(" Recollections," 1884).