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Chapter XIII. Atapo's Expedition.

Te Rangitukaroa and his followers returned to Wairauki on the evening of the same day which witnessed the bravery of his daughter and the defeat of the enemy. Bitter were the reproaches of the tohunga at what he considered a wanton risk of many valuable lives, in having left the pah so feebly garrisoned, and in charge of a woman, who, however, he was compelled to admit, had acquitted herself in a manner worthy the occasion. But as this was no time for recrimination or delay, Hahaki advised the immediate despatch of a strong force to intercept the allies that were doubtless on their way to assist the Ngatiraukawa. The counsel of the priest was approved of, and a party consisting of eighty of the page 77bravest tribemen, under the command of Atapo, left Wairauki the same afternoon. Raukawa did not accompany the expedition. The route of the war-party lay through a densely wooded tract of broken country, across spurs of the Tararua ranges, where every gully had its stream of deliciously pure water, and every stage its interminable plantations of noble trees. The destination of the warriors for the first evening's sunset was a well-known, though seldom visited ravine, facing eastward; the steep sides of which were picturesquely dotted with snow-white pillars of rock, standing at right angles with the horizon. These rude erections were from ten to fifteen feet in height, and of various diameters: as they stood among the dense masses of foliage in endless variety of greens, were a remarkable assemblage of natural and artificial subjects, which were regarded by the natives with superstitious veneration. Halting here for the night under the shelter of the shrubby gnaios and umbrageous silver tree-ferns, Atapo placed the sentinels. After the warriors had refreshed themselves and laved their feet and hands in the brawling mountain streamlet, many went to sleep on the couch prepared by nature's hand; many gathered round the camp fires, and whilst one told a story, or sang an old song, the listeners attentively hung on every sen-page 78tence, or joined with skill in the chorus. Seated on a moss-grown stone, Atapo, surrounded by a party of his warriors, related traditional legends to his hearers: he told how that many long years ago, now dimly remembered, his father, who was a tohunga in the tribe, affirmed that it was in this same gully that the tribes of the great Ngatikahungu nation met to ratify, with solemn ceremonies and joyous festivities, an ever binding engagement to befriend and to assist each other on every occasion, and in every emergency, so long as the Moa stalked over the plains and the Kiwi cried in the forest; and, in remembrance of this solemn covenant, three white pillars were here set up as witnesses to the compact: also how, on the assumption of the chief military command of the tribes by each succeeding chieftain, he and his friends here set up a single pillar in commemoration of his accession to that high office, each memorial pillar so erected bearing the name of its proper chieftain.

The evening fell over the "gully of the pillars," and as twilight slowly settled on every object, the full moon was seen to rise above the distant eastern mountain ranges; simultaneously with the first streak visible of the moon's golden disc, a low faint sound, heard by Atapo and his companions, page 79proceeded from a pillar near. "Listen," said the warrior to his comrades; "you may now hear the spirit-song of the pillar of Tantanamoa. This is the only one of the group that emits sounds, and only when the moon is at the full, the air free from dew, and the winds quite hushed." All attentively listened; nor were they disappointed. Gradually the sound increased in force and sweetness, and as the moon's orb slowly rolled up the horizon, so the notes of the mysterious instrument poured out their sweet melodies on the startled ears of the spell-wrapt warriors; but as soon as the horizon line and the lower arc of the moon were clear of each other, the notes slowly melted away in a series of vibrations, full of tenderest symphonies, that touched the grim souls of the war-hardened sons of the forest, causing tears to flow from eyes that seldom gave expression to the softer emotions.

The night wore quietly away; the camp remained in unbroken silence, save when at measured intervals the call of the sentries echoed softly over the gully, or the brown Ruru hooted to his fellow from the decaying trunk of an ancient tree.

Soon as morning dawned the camp was astir, and after a hasty meal the march was resumed; still onwards in an easterly direction, the second day page 80was spent in a wearisome struggle with high and precipitous cliff, climbing, or plunging through the dense undergrowth of the ever-recurring ravine; in wading through the not very deep beds of multitudinous streams, and in a weary plodding tramp through swamps where the coarse brown cyperus, tall raupo, and graceful flax all attained a luxurious growth. At night they bivouacked on the banks of a stream embowered by large Tawa trees that cast a dark shade over the current and its fern-grown banks; and here the second night was passed in safe and undisturbed quietude. The rising sun of the third day saw the little army on the march. The path became more difficult, and the ascent more steep; more rugged and barren was the general aspect of the mountain scenery, and the vegetation differed as the warriors pressed forward. At mid-day a wild and broken ravine was reached which ran up a little way among overhanging grey crags, and then suddenly turned an acute angle to the south, whence the ravine, or pass, ran down a steep incline among the Alpine ranges, leading the traveller out into an extensive tract of undulating country, extending far as the eye could reach, studded with clumps of bush and patches of scrub, and long stretches of brown bracken. This was a portion of the territory of a hostile tribe, of page 81whom it was apprehended that they would also join issue with the Ngatiraukawa against the Mauopoko. The Waikato contingent must of necessity pass through this mountain gap, and Atapo determined to take possession of it, and to dispute its passage with his life.

Evening came on with all her brilliant loveliness, her soft golden light bathing the extensive landscape, and robing it with a mantle of extreme delicacy and all-pervading magnificence. The coppery-tinted kuku flew overhead in flocks; the greenish-black tui in the neighbouring thickets sang with sweet energy and captivating plaintiveness; the crimson-top and the yellow-top kakaikis twittered, on bright green and blue-tinted wings, from shrub to tree; and the pale brown pihoihoi piped on the peaked and pointed stones that overhung the pass. Numerous lizards crept over the warm stones, and the spear-grass gave shelter and security to the cocoons of the field-spider. No signs of human beings were visible on the country below, but, as night descended, the usual precautions were observed by Atapo in disposing of his men. Ere the moon rose, the sentinels thought that they descried the fires of an enemy's camp, far off in the wilds of the silent waste beneath them, and communicated the intelligence to their page 82leader, who spent the remainder of the sultry summer night in endeavouring to get more information as to the vicinity of the enemy; but in vain. Scarcely had the moonlit hours passed, when he caused his forces to stand to their arms, and, with weapon in hand, swallow a scanty meal. For all this haste there was an urgent need; the quick and trained ear of the chief caught, during the deep stillness of the early dawn, a peculiar and unusual series of noises, faint, very faint indeed, but still not to be mistaken, or to be attributed to any other cause than that of the sound of many human voices engaged in the recitation of the war-chant, and joining in its hollow-sounding chorus.