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Promenade

IV

IV

Yet the explosion got ahead of Peregrine after all, although Robinson was safely tarred and feathered and ridden on a rail, Nick Flower attending as one of the page 71 League members, showing no more than a proper interest. Since Providence has decreed that the weakest must go to the wall, it was not for Flower to upset her plans.

But plans were upset a few days later when Heke, with an energy which surprised himself, suddenly cut down the flagstaff once more and sent his warriors along the beach with instructions to frighten the English. “Do not kill. Just make them understand that we are their masters,” directed Heke, sitting tight on Maiki Hill as a precaution against missionary persuasions and wondering if Waka Nene would believe him if he said afterwards that his men had got out of hand.

Now we're for it, thought Flower, hearing the crackle of rifle-fire, heavy cannon-rumble from H.M.S. Hazard, stationed permanently in the Bay. He snatched down his cutlass and ran out, pausing to lock the door. Maoris never thieved, but the white men did … and here came soldiers and marines, pouring ashore from the Hazard, doubling up the Beach with a gleam of bayonets, of eyes. And here, there, everywhere leapt the Maoris like devils in a pantomime, like naked overgrown boys at play. War, for the Maoris, was the only real play.

So here was another weakest going to the wall. Heke, good man, had challenged England's forty millions, and the best he would get out of it was some practice with his guns. Nick Flower, ranging himself immediately among the forty millions, went up to rescue the Lovel ladies, unguessing how many sinews of war he would be smuggling into the country for the next twenty years.

Ladies, it appeared, are more incalculable than men. Fainting at a mouse they yet seem to relish danger, never playing the game that a man expects. Mrs Lovel, though white as a ghost, was filling a pillow-case with food, smiling at the children (“the little brave lady”), smiling up at Flower.

“Mr Lovel said he would send someone to take us to the Arsenal. We are ready,” she said.

page 72

“Monstrous early for them to start this nonsense,” cried Darien, buttoning up Brian. “I vow I've had no time to wash the sleep out of my eyes.”

But her eyes shone like diamonds, and her cheeks were pink roses. Flower (always so moved by women) would have liked to take her in his arms. But he took baby Jerry instead. “And give me some of those bundles,” he said.

“Mr Lovel had to go to the League … Oh, thank you. Tiffy … Roddy … here are your bundles, dears.”

Pioneer children already knew that they must never be afraid. Stoutly they loaded up their little arms; stoutly joined in “Red plumes of the kaka” when Nick Flower began it going down the hill under the white manuka-wreaths, their red-and-white check frocks bobbing in the sunlight, and Peregrine rushing half-way up the hill to meet them. John and Corny could attend to the League while he got his sons safe to cover.

“Please God,” whispered Sally, walking with loaded arms beside Mr Lovel and seeing the startled Beach such a whirl of white-trousered legs, blue-trousered legs, and legs with no trousers at all, such a smother of smoke and flying sand and the reek of gunpowder, with the Hazard booming over all.

On the water-front the little munition store had always known itself for a possible place of refuge. It accepted women and children to the best of its small powers, while (battling royally in back-parlours, round the tiny white church, round overturned boats and great brown piles of oil-casks) the English were holding on. Peregrine, clattering with pistols and cutlasses, melted off into the reek, Nick Flower melted, and the door was shut. Caroline, weighed down with bags, bonnet-boxes, pomade-pots, trailing shawls, and a large magenta feather-fan, was somehow contriving to brandish a poker.

“Vulgar upstarts! They cannot frighten me,” cried Caroline, coming out strongly as a pioneer. Maori wives and children of traders had probably taken to the hills; but Corny Fleete had thrust in his protesting family; and page 73 down on the earth floor boys—white, brown and piebald boys—punched and kicked each other for the glory of their race, while little Hemi Fleete (his mixed blood asserting itself for the first time) fought Lovels, fought his brothers with tears running down his brown face. Gentlemen, so ready to leave such of their mistakes to God, had not considered the future of Hemis.

“They need hymns,” said Caroline and walked about among the crowded women singing “Hark, the Herald Angels,” and clearly considering herself one of them; while Sally fed everyone from the pillow-case and pulled a furious Tiffany out from the crowd of boys, and Darien tried to climb through a loophole to watch all these romantic happenings outside and see if any Maori had sense enough to kill Peregrine.

Then came a battered Major Henry, and big Bishop Selwyn (who was trying so hard to make the Beach respectable) and took them all off to the ships—which was a grave enough foreshadowing to silence even Caroline. Up on Maiki Hill Heke was perturbed. He would never be able to convince Waka Nene that it was only a joke. But when all the white men suddenly rowed off after the ladies Heke came down the hill in a terrible hurry. This was not fair. No sensible chief desires to get rid of such lucrative attachments as traders, and what was going to happen now?

On the ships outraged marines were also demanding to know what was going to happen now, demanding the name of the officer who had ordered the recall. “We could have held them till Kingdom Come,” they howled. “We could have beaten the devils. What will the Maoris do now that they find the whites running from them in their first fight?”

It was to be twenty years and more before the Maoris (heartened by that blunder) finally stopped fighting; but at present they were being very surprised along the Beach and not at all knowing what to do with their unexpected conquest. Yet there was loot in the stores. And though page 74 they didn't care for rum there was so much of it. And presently someone upset a lighted lamp…. So the Beach went up in flames, with tattooed warriors garbing themselves in nightcaps, petticoats, and other fancies very happily, while dead whites lay where they fell since everyone was now too civilized to put them in the pot … which was a pity.

“And all our best carpets and things never even unpacked,” lamented Caroline. But Heke, who was really a great gentleman, although Nene never thought him so again, put a tapu on most of the settlers' effects and they all came to Auckland later with the gear of Peregrine's shipyard.

Haini Fleete was demanding a boat to take her ashore. “I will go to my own people,” said Haini, tall and stately with her brood about her. Corny gripped her roughly by the arms, thrusting his blood-smeared face into hers.

“My people are your people. You'll go where I go, and remember that your children are English,” he said. “I'll stand no nonsense from you, madam.”

He had never taken that tone with her before, being an easy man. But the clash of these two strong arrogant races had now fairly begun; and each knew it and feared the other, thought Sally, seeing Haini turn silently away, and so sorry for her. Men (one supposed) called that sort of thing protection.

Young Tiffany knew that the sky chose to go mad every sunset and one couldn't do anything about it; but the Beach never had before. Yet here it was having a great and terrible sunset of its own. It was galloping with blue and scarlet tongues and a monstrous crest of black streaming hair; biting all the houses into bits; tossing their limbs up under exploding oil-barrels; running in glowing rivers to the sea. It gobbled up Nick Flower's store with its shelves of mysterious wonders, gobbled Lambert's….

Slowly they sank in dark heaps full of quivering flickers, page 75 and the fire went leaping on. The houses and stores couldn't be gone for always? Surely, surely there wasn't really an always that took things away for ever? “No, no, no,” screamed Tiffany, meeting for the first time the implacabilities ranged against her. She went charging down the deck to the dim corner where Roddy too watched the fire. To him that fierce and lovely thing was something one could die for, and he put his arm round Tiffany protectingly.

“It's like the Burning Bush in the Bible, Tiffy. I nearly saw God just now——”

Wind that fanned the flames was gathering in the rigring now. Tall sails filled, sweeping down the harbour to-night and the open sea. In a tiny cabin Caroline prepared for seasickness while her children had got ahead of her everywhere. In the corner under a lantern Darien scribbled in her diary:

“We are going to Auckland which is full of beautiful soldiers and men to run after me. I am very glad I was born and so will they be.”

Peregrine walked the deck with a tired Sally meek on his arm. Already he was busy reconstructing. He would call on Governor FitzRoy at once. Opportunities … Ministerial … Political … my chance has come, thought Peregrine, energetically walking Sally off her trembling legs. “Please God, let Auckland be easier than the Beach,” whispered Sally. It had been so hard to laugh at anything on the Beach.

“I think, Sir John,” said Caroline, lifting a haggard head from the pillow, “that I shall have a son in Auckland.” Her tone implied that she had not thought it worth while before.

The ship slewed round the Heads and turned southward into the dark. The first step in New Zealand's pioneering was over. But Lovels, thought Peregrine, glancing proudly round, were very well capable of taking plenty more.