The Retreat Through the Forest.

Of the many narratives of Te Ngutu that I have heard, by far the most authoritative and connected is Colonel Roberts’ own account, which I heard from his lips at Rotorua in 1919. Roberts had always been rather modest and reticent about his own share in the events of that day and night in the bush, and this narrative was the first full account given by him. It was his gallant work on that occasion, fighting a rearguard action and collecting the survivors, that chiefly won for him his New Zealand Cross, presented on parade in the Waikato long after the war.

“I had fired a few shots at the palisade,” said Colonel Roberts, “more for the sake of making a noise than anything else, for I could not see a single Maori. Our men were hotly pressed by the Hauhau fire from good cover. We were by this time on the east side of the pa, firing away, and waiting vainly for orders. I heard Lieut. Hunter—who had been the life of the camp at Waihi—calling out to his men: ‘Give it to them, boys; give it to them! I can see the white of his eyes! Give it to him!’ and similar cries. I saw him a little time afterwards, poor fellow, lying on the broad of his back, dead, staring at the tree-tops. There were a few men with me; an officer cannot see more than ten or fifteen when he is bush-skirmishing under such conditions. I asked whether anyone had seen Major McDonnell. I then came to the conclusion that he was fighting his way out. He had not left us any orders. In this situation, I did page 28 a thing which, strictly speaking, was a great piece of presumption on the part of a junior officer. I ordered the bugler (H. Sibley) to sound the ‘Halt!’ and the ‘Officers’ Call.’ I collected all the men I could, and two or three officers appeared. Captain Buck was one of them. I asked them whether they knew where the Major was, and they said they heard he was killed. We had a consultation, and I told them that from the sound of the firing I believed McDonnell was making his way back to Waihi. Then I asked: ‘Which of us is the senior?’ and on comparing dates of commissions with Buck I found I was the senior officer.

“I said to Buck, ‘You stay here, and I'll go and see what has become of Von Tempsky. If I'm not back in ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, you'll know what to do.’ I left him with some men, and scouted back by myself through the bush towards the other side of the pa, passing some of my men who were still sticking to it, taking cover behind the trees and firing whenever they saw a head or other sign of the enemy. One or two of them called to me ‘Go back, sir, you'll be shot.’ They said they believed the Major was shot. I worked along the flank for two or three chains, towards the creek that ran in the rear of the pa. I saw nothing of Von Tempsky, but he must have been lying close by. It was all dense bush there, with some very large mahoe trees, the biggest I had ever seen, and some rata.

“At last I turned to come back, and just as I did so a bullet buried itself in a sapling behind me. When. I made my way back to where I had left Captain Buck a quarter of an hour previously, I found him lying on his back, dead. I got together all the men I could find and disposed them as well as I could to resist the Hauhaus, who were pressing us hard, yelling ‘Surround them, surround them!’ in Maori. I formed the men into a rough half-moon front, and instructed them to fire volleys: ‘Blaze away as hard as you can, boys, blaze away!’ We fired a number of volleys, and this had some effect on the Hauhaus, who kept a greater distance after that.

“By this time it was getting quite dusk in the bush, under the close, dense tree-tops. I came to the conclusion that I had better try and make my way out to camp with the wounded. I had heard firing away on my right, and knew it must be McDonnell fighting his way out to Waihi. There were eleven wounded, but most of these could walk. My total strength now was fifty-eight men. Sergeant Russell fell, shot through the hip; he was a fine brave fellow. We had to leave him there, lying propped up against a tree, with a loaded revolver in his hand: he was too badly wounded to use his carbine. We had some faint hopes of rescuing him later, but the Hauhaus got him, after he had stood them off at first with his revolver. Lieut. Hirtzel was with us, and another good man was big James Livingston, of Waipapa, Hawera, who had come with the force as a voluntcer; he was a splendid fellow, cool and brave, and a first-rate bushman. When we were under a very heavy fire he was picking up the rifles of men who had been killed or wounded and smashing them against the butts of trees, saying that the Hauhaus would never be able to use those guns. He broke Russell's carbine before we left him.