Chapter XXVII.

Before leaving the pah the Englishmen proposed to Marāra that he should, if it suited him, remain in the settlement, as the people there were Christians; but the man did not in any way fall into their views. He wished to continue with the Pakeas to as near a point as they should arrive at to his native village.

“I suppose he prefers his own mud hut to those of strangers,” observed Jack. “I wonder what the fellow's history is.”

“He has told me as much as this,” said Colonel Bradshaw: “he was taken prisoner about three years ago in a skirmish between his tribe and that of the heathen settlement we stopped at, and was taken possession of by the tohunga as his share of the spoil.”

“I wonder he never escaped before,” remarked Hope Bernard.

“He has been watching his opportunity all along; but the tohunga rarely if ever allowed him out of his sight, or that of his daughter.”

“That girl who fed me, no doubt,” said Jack; “but she seemed a very good-natured kind of a girl, and was certainly on very good terms with Marāra.”

“Still, she was the tohunga's daughter, and a heathen, and very much in fear of her father's imaginary power; and it was only while Marāra made no attempt to escape that she was on good terms with him.”

“But why did not he escape?” asked Jack.

“How could he have lived in the bush without a gun or any means of providing himself with food? He showed wisdom in being patient until the time arrived when he could attempt to return home with some prospect of success. He was anxious to have some communication with us on our first visit to the pah, at that time you took his portrait; but, if you remember, he was never alone. Then, he overheard the tohunga giving instructions to Karee as to your capture, and determined to bide his time and leave the pah with you, being also swayed by some rather romantic fancy which he appears to have taken to you, Master Jack.”

“Has he? he is a very good fellow; I cannot see why he should take a fancy to me, sir. I suppose I've a very ungrateful and unaffectionate disposition; but I care for, or have cared for, so few people. But when I do care, I care very much.”

“There are some people, Jack,” replied the Colonel, “who have a greater facility than others in attracting affection. These, of course, possess a larger amount of influence than their neighbours, and consequently their responsibility is greater.”

“I do not like the idea of that,” said Jack, “I do not want responsibility.”

“You cannot escape it, my dear boy: you must influence others for good or for ill, and it depends upon yourself what the influence is to be. No one was sent into the world for himself.”

“Colonel,” exclaimed Jack, “you take such a serious view of life.”

“Because, as life is only the first step to eternity, Jack, it must be a very serious thing. Do not mistake me, my good fellow. I did not mean to say a gloomy or a melancholy thing—there is no need it should be that; indeed, a life led with a just sense of one's own responsibility, and in the fear and love of God, ought to be a very happy thing. It is said, ‘Rejoice, young man, in thy youth;’ but it must be a rejoicing mixed with the recollection that for all things done in this life God will bring us into judgment, though I do not think that the word judgment need imply condemnation or even blame.”

“I cannot imagine anything worth the name of happiness,” said Bernard, “apart from such considerations as you speak of.”

“You are a very happy fellow, Bernard, to have learnt page 251 the great lesson of this world so early,” said the Colonel, smiling at him.

“But as to Marāra,” resumed Jack presently, “if he likes it, he may remain with me as long as he pleases. I hardly know yet how far or how long we, or perhaps I should say I, may be wandering about the island; and in my wanderings we may come near to Marāra's home.”

“That is the thing he wishes. He knows that you two and I part at Auckland. He wants to go on with you and Bernard. And, Jack, if you will let me give you a piece of advice—try, by talking with Marāra, to learn as much of his language as you can. Nothing learnt is ever wasted. I only wish we all would lay that maxim to heart, and we should be more satisfactory people than we are.”

“Well, at any rate, sir,” said Jack, “I will endeavour to give satisfaction in that respect, for I will try to learn Marāra's language; for, apart from any idea of its being useful to me at some future time, there are not many things that you could ask me that I would not try to do.”

“Thank you, Jack,” said Colonel Bradshaw, raising his hat.

Then the conversation wandered away to other subjects, until suddenly Jack said,

“The other day, sir, you mentioned having taken part in a kangaroo hunt. I wish you would tell me all about it.”

“And I also said, if I remember, at the same time,” answered the Colonel, “that I never wish to do so again. Jack, have you ever seen a kangaroo?”

“Yes, at the Zoo Gardens; never wild, of course.”

“I doubt if kangaroos are ever wild: they are shy and timid, like most innocent, inoffensive animals without natural means of defence; but, like all shy things, they become bolder than others when treated kindly. I will tell you of a kangaroo hunt, and then you will understand why I dislike the idea of it.

“When I was in Australia, one morning a friend with whom I was staying proposed at breakfast that we should go kangaroo hunting. I willingly agreed, as I would have agreed had it been proposed to hunt any other animal on the face of the earth, and before long we were mounted on horseback—that is, we Europeans—armed with our guns, and accompanied by a number of native Australians carrying long stout sticks, and a pack of dogs of no particular breed. We rode slowly away over the turf. It was a lovely day, warm as it is now, and with a cloudless sky, and we were in very high spirits. As we neared the ground where the kangaroos were supposed to be, we had to advance cautiously, keeping back the dogs, and keeping ourselves behind the shelter of any trees which came in our way. But the grass was so soft and velvetlike that our horses' feet made no noise in advancing. So we moved on until we were in the vicinity of the river, which was not many miles from my friend's house.

“All at once one of the natives held up his hand for us to halt, and looking eagerly through the trees which intervened between us and the river, we could see several page 253 kangaroos feeding. These animals go upon all fours when they are grazing. But, careful as we had been, something had alarmed the poor things. Though they could certainly not see us, and had not in any likelihood heard any sound, yet, perhaps, their quick scent had discerned that something was approaching which was not friendly, for several of them, the males, were standing upon their hind legs, their great eyes gleaming, and evidently listening with some suspicion.

“Their indecision was of short duration. Hardly had we discovered them than one of the natives let slip his dogs, which were straining violently at their leash, and the next moment away bounded the whole herd of kangaroos, the dogs following closely, and we a little less so in their rear.

“The native Australians run well: they almost kept up with the dogs and horses. You have, of course, heard of the jumping powers of the kangaroo, but you can never have estimated what they are if you have not seen them under such circumstances as those I am trying to describe. I cannot tell you satisfactorily how many feet of ground the poor frightened things may have cleared at a time. I only know they seemed almost to fly before us. It certainly was a very exciting chase. We forgot everything in the wild pursuit. We almost flew, though in a less graceful way probably, horses and men and dogs together, after the kangaroos—over fallen trees, through marshy grounds, across long, lovely tracts of turf. Gradually page 254 we had separated one large male kangaroo from the herd, and were now directing all our attention to him. Gallantly as he kept up the chase, after awhile we perceived that he gave signs of exhaustion; and all at once, as if he had held on to the very last possible moment that he could strive against his fate, he stopped and stood up confronting the dogs.

“I was nearest to him at the time he gave in, and I saw him rushed upon by the savage brutes, who gnawed and worried him, covering his soft grey fur with blood. He stood impotently beating the air with his fore feet, and the great tears ran from his beautiful eyes and down his cheeks. I was thankful that I was armed with a gun, that I might as rapidly as possible shoot the poor beast dead; and by the time the others came up, I was standing over him, feeling in my own mind that I had joined in a cowardly, unmanly sport, and vainly regretting that I had been accessory in any degree to what I now looked upon as unworthy of me.

“I felt disinclined even to talk as we rode home; and when upon the following morning my friend proposed another kangaroo hunt, I vehemently declined taking any part in it; and I made up my mind that I would never again join in what cannot, under any circumstances, be looked upon as a noble sport.”

“What is a noble sport?” asked Bernard.

“Really, I can hardly answer your question to my own satisfaction,” the Colonel replied. “But hunting animals page break

“Sport !”

page break page 255 who can defend themselves and in some degree equalize the chances, appears at least more noble and manly. However, wild beasts, such as the tigers of India, must of necessity be destroyed; but there is no necessity for destroying kangaroos, excepting for food, which of course we know we have a right to do; and kangaroos may be killed for food without the long preliminary chase which is simply for our selfish amusement.”

“But how can they be destroyed, sir, if they are so extremely timid as you say?” asked Jack.

“The native Australians capture them by means of stalking, in their own peculiar way. A number of men place themselves at equal distances, some way off from a kangaroo feeding-ground. These men advance gradually nearer to the ground and nearer to one another; thus, after a time, forming a circle and enclosing the herd of kangaroos. They have a somewhat cruel way of putting the poor things to death, beating them with thick sticks; but even that is preferable to the prolonged agony of being hunted, followed up by the worrying of the dogs.”

“But the Australian natives are not any bigger than kangaroos themselves, are they?” asked Jack.

“Some of them are really not much bigger,” answered Colonel Bradshaw. “But the Australians vary in size very much in different parts of the country, as also they vary in intelligence. Some of them seem little removed from the lower animals—utterly mindless; whereas farther into the interior, you will meet with men tall and well formed, page 256 and comparatively bright. They may be a mixture of races.”

“They are not like the Maoris in any way, are they?”

“Totally dissimilar: the Maoris I consider a very intelligent people, who do not at all come under the head of that very generic term, ‘niggers.’ Of course you must have read comparative physiology of different races. The Maoris assimilate closely to ourselves, I believe, in the formation of the skull; in other words, they show likeness to the Caucasians. The wonder is that they have continued so long uncivilized.

“I do not suppose they will ever civilize as a nation. Years hence New Zealand will be peopled by the English, and the natural ‘lords of the soil’ will die out: they are doing so rapidly.”

“I am afraid,” said Jack, after a pause—during which he had been thinking over what the Colonel had said— “I am afraid that we English are a bullying race. It seems very unfair that we should come to another man's land, and gradually push out the rightful owner and take possession ourselves: it is very much like the cuckoo in the sparrow's nest.”

“There has always been in every age a dominant race, and no doubt it is so arranged for the advance of civilization. It does not seem so much as if the English nation endeavoured to push the rightful owners from their territory as that the owners become absorbed as it were. I think the settlers in this country have tried to educate, to page 257 civilize, and to Christianize the Maoris; but I doubt if anything will be done with them. They are an interesting people, as you must agree, notwithstanding some unfortunate experiences which have occurred to you personally, Jack. They are very affectionate, brave, and enduring; anxious to learn and improve, and in some ways very singlehearted.”

“They are, I have no doubt, all that you say, sir,” replied Jack; “but why need they keep themselves so dirty?”

“I never knew a fellow run an idea to death in the way you do, Jack,” answered the Colonel. “I really believe that the dirt of the Maoris serves, in the words of our familiar nursery poem,

‘Like a cloud before the skies,
To hide all their better qualities.”'

“I think the tohunga showed a very acute insight into character,” observed Bernard, “when he dubbed Jack with that complimentary name he gave him. It took my fancy very much.”

“Oh, I have no doubt the tohunga is clever enough. The old rogue must have been listening to everything we said, and I dare say he heard and understood my animadversions upon the filthy state of himself and his friends,” answered Stanley.