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Amongst the Maoris: A Book of Adventure

Chapter XXX

page 279

Chapter XXX.

Jack Starts off After Bernard.

So Bernard started in company with two Maori attendants, and Jack Stanley was left in charge of Colonel Bradshaw.

It was on the same evening of the day upon which Bernard had said good bye to them that the Colonel observed,

“Well, Master Jack, how did the ‘business’ get on which brought you to Auckland?”

This was said at the club, where several other gentlemen, acquaintances of Colonel Bradshaw, were present.

“Not at all well, sir,” Jack answered. “I came here in the hope of meeting a man who, I was told, was in the place, and found that he had left Auckland before my arrival. It was just the same when I arrived in Wellington: he had been gone for six months.”

“Here is a gentleman who is as good as a directory in New Zealand,” said Colonel Bradshaw, indicating an elderly grey-headed man who sat a little distance off from them.

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“I think,” continued the Colonel, addressing the stranger to whom he had drawn Jack's attention, “I think you know pretty well all the movements of Auckland society?”

The stranger smiled quietly, and said, “I believe so, as far as they can be known.”

“What is your friend's name?” asked the Colonel.

“Thank you,” said Jack, quickly, “he is no friend of mine; his name is Maitland.”

“What is he?” asked the grey-haired stranger: “there have been several Maitlands here; it is not an uncommon name.”

“In Wellington he was a shipowner,” said Jack.

“And so he was here, if you mean William Maitland who came six or eight months ago from Wellington—a man about five and forty; very handsome man.”

“I know nothing about his looks, and care less,” replied Jack. “Do you happen to know anything about where he is gone?”

“He threw up his business in a very eccentric manner, and made off early one morning, taking very little with him. He has a large amount of money banked in the town, and has never drawn any since he left.”

“But do you know, sir, where he is gone?” asked Jack again, eagerly.

“We have a very strong suspicion,” answered the other; “but do not alarm yourself, my young friend: he is not about any harm. The last time I heard of him, from page 281 some Maoris, he was living the life of a squatter on the banks of the Waikato.”

“The Waikato! why, that is where Bernard is gone today!” exclaimed Jack, starting to his feet and looking at the Colonel.

“That is rather strange,” answered Colonel Bradshaw, “It is a pity you did not go with him.”

“I will follow him at once.”

“Not to-night, certainly, Jack: to-morrow will do.”

To-morrow seemed a long way off to the impetuous young man, but he had to submit; and, after thanking the grey-haired gentleman for his information, he and Colonel Bradshaw left the club.

“Who is that? who is that old gentleman?” asked Jack as soon as they were in the street.

“He is the head of the police in Auckland,” answered the Colonel.

Jack Stanley could not sleep that night. His mind was full of busy thoughts, and he was so anxious for the morning to come that he made the night appear three times as long as it need have done by lying awake and wishing it was over. But the morning came at length, and, with a few preliminaries, he was off. The Colonel had upon the previous night engaged a Maori guide for him, for although Marāra was to accompany him, the man knew so little English that Jack would have found great difficulty in making him understand his wishes, and Marāra, besides, had not much knowledge of the country, his last page 282 journey having been a very enforced one. Even these absolutely necessary delays irritated Jack, whose one anxiety was to overtake Bernard, who had a whole day's advantage of him. He kept regretting that he had followed the advice of the Colonel, and remained the past night at Auckland; but the latter represented to him that he would have been in bad circumstances had he started with Marāra alone, without money, or provisions, or any convenience for the journey. The probabilities would have been that he and Marāra would have lost their way after a few hours, and have wandered about the country interminably, and no one could contemplate what might eventually have befallen them.

However, at last they were fairly off—Jack, and Marāra, very smart, and very pleased and proud in his new flax mat, and the strange guide, carrying the blankets. But Jack had made up his mind that he would waste no more precious time in repose; so after marching the whole of that day, as night was drawing in, and his Maori guide threw down the bundle he carried with a loud grunt of delight at having, as he thought, come to the end of his day's work, Jack said to him,

“Look here, my fine fellow, I want to get on as quick as possible. We will rest ourselves for two hours; at the end of that time we must start again.”

“Not understand,” said the Maori, trying to look idiotic.

“I expect you understand perfectly well,” said Jack; page 283 “but I will tell you again. You and I will sleep for two hours: then walk. Do you see now?”

The man shook his head.

Jack resumed, “I agreed to give you one sovereign to bring me to the Waikato. I will give you two sovereigns if you catch up my friend before to-morrow morning. Do you understand now?”

“No; can't understand,” still answered the guide.

“See, here!” exclaimed Jack, catching the Maori by the blanket. “If you can't understand what I mean, I will find a way of making you do so by giving you a good kicking. Do you understand now?”

“Yes; understand now,” said the man, looking sulky for a moment; then catching Jack's eye, he burst out laughing, and added, “Go to sleep now. Good night, sare.”

“Good night, you rascal,” replied Jack, with politeness.

Then lying down, rolled up in their blankets, they were all of them soon fast asleep. Jack Stanley possessed the enviable faculty of being able to go to sleep at most times in a few seconds, like a dog, and waking up again at will. The two hours, therefore, were only just expired when he was once more on his feet, and calling to the Maoris to get up.

“Thomas! I say, is not your name Thomas?”

“Tamati,” said the Maori.

“I was told Thomas,” answered Jack.

“Same thing,” the man remarked.

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“Well, then, why don't you answer to your name? Get up: we must move.”

Perhaps the man recollected Jack's liberal offer with regard to the kicking the day before, for he arose with a chorus of grunts, and shouldered his bundle. Marāra never took any part in these discussions, but stood looking on, apparently amused at Jack's friendly bullying of the other. Jack did not forget the Colonel's advice about endeavouring to learn the native language. He usually conversed as he walked with Marāra and Tamati, the latter, from his greater knowledge of English, being more helpful as a teacher than Jack's first friend could be.

But before long they had to make their way through a perfect grove of tree-ferns and native flax—the same flax as that of which the Maoris make, or used to make, their dresses, and which is to them a very valuable plant, being serviceable for ropes, baskets, bags, and a variety of things for domestic use. It was difficult and fatiguing walking through this part of the country, and after a short time all three of the travellers lapsed into silence.

But if they had found it toilsome and unpleasant work to make their way through the growth of fern, it became infinitely worse when, at the end of the flax tract, they came to some very marshy ground, into which their feet sank at every step, almost to the ankles, in the thick, sticky mud. To add to their discomfort, this mud was full of horrible, spiteful little crabs, which clung to their legs and bit them viciously, for Jack had been obliged to page 285 bare his feet and roll his trowsers to his knees, and his companions did not indulge in any covering for their legs.

Thus toiling through the thick mud they reached the water's edge, being one of the banks of the Manakoa Harbour. Jack was a little in advance of his attendants, and his eyes being occupied in looking after his feet, he had not observed that they were coming to the water until they were close upon it.

“Now what are we to do?” said he, appealing to the man. “Are you sure we have come right, Tomatos, or whatever you call yourself?”

“All right?—yes,” said the man.

“But this is salt water, and I told you we were to go to Waikato: I thought Waikato was a river,” said Jack.

“Waikato country, and Waikato river,” said Tamati. “All right, but not come there yet. We go on now.”

“How?” said Jack. “Must we swim across?” remembering his last attempt at swimming.

For answer Tamati laid down his bundle, and told Jack to climb upon his back.

“Not if I know it,” answered Stanley, laughing. “If you can walk across, my good fellow, I suppose I can also.

“What, must I strip?” asked Jack again, as his friend began to divest himself of his few articles of clothing.

The Maori nodded and laughed.

It was just as well that Jack did not attempt to cross without undressing, for the ground was so slippery that he had not gone many steps before he came down upon his page 286 hands, and as he neared the opposite bank, and the water became more shallow, he had great difficulty in getting on at all, for the mud was so deep and so sticky that he could hardly draw up his feet after each step. At length, however, he reached the opposite bank, and, glancing down at his own figure, burst out laughing. He was one coat of mud from his chest downwards.

“Clothing is cheap about here,” he observed, and Tamati, though he did not at all understand what Jack meant, laughed also at the expression of the Pakea's face.

That is the best of these Maoris: they are, as a race, so extremely good-natured, always ready to enter into the fun of the moment, and, unlike the pompous North American Indians, do not consider it fine and dignified to be grave when there is no necessity for gravity.

Marāra and Tamati seemed to think very little of the mud as far as they were personally concerned. They waded through it several times, going backwards and forwards in order to carry across the bundles of blankets and clothing, and the guns, and various things, while Jack sat upon the bank ruefully trying to scrape himself clean, sometimes with flax leaves, sometimes with a piece of stone, and mentally comparing himself to the Patriarch Job. He felt wretchedly uncomfortable and dirty, even after his scrapings; and, at length giving it up as a useless expenditure of time and energy, he concluded by sitting unclothed upon the ground until the mud was sufficiently dry to rub off more easily in powder.

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As to the Maoris, a little dirt more or less seemed to make little difference to them: Marāra and Tamati were for resuming their mats, mud and all, had not Jack interfered. He improved the time, which he was obliged to spend otherwise inactively, in haranguing his companions upon the advantages of cleanliness, and the corresponding evils of dirty habits; but I think he might have spared himself the trouble. Marāra and Tamati listened with smiling faces to all that the Pakea had to say; but I doubt if it made any impression upon either of them, or whether they could follow Jack's ideas.

The exertion of wading through the mud, after their long march, completed their fatigue; moreover, it was growing dusk, and Jack did not propose going on any farther that day, much to the delight of Tamati, who set about collecting a fire, which he lighted near the river bank, and then proceeded to cook potatoes for supper.

There was some difficulty in procuring water for cooking, and the mud had to be encountered again; and the water when got was by no means clear, so that Jack had to forego the luxury of tea; for although he submitted to muddy water for boiling the potatoes, he could not bring his mind to drink it.

“What's that?” asked Jack, as a melancholy cry broke the stillness of the air; for as darkness came on the day birds had gone to roost, and for some little time everything had been silent around.

“Ko-ko,” answered Tamati.

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“What is a ko-ko,” asked Jack, “a bird or a beast?”

“Bird,” said the man; but he offered no further explanation, apparently taking very little interest in natural history, which certainly seems a science only for civilized nations, so Jack had to defer hearing further particulars until a more fitting occasion.

The moonlight upon the trees-ferns looked very beautiful, and Jack lay awake for a time contemplating it, while Tamati and Marāra, disturbed by no such sentiment, snored and grunted a duet. But apart from the beauty of the night, I think the sand-flies had something to do with Master Jack's wakefulness; and, as he lay there, before long he had an opportunity of seeing for himself that what Tamati called the ko-ko was a sort of nightjar, or what in England is sometimes called a goatsucker, from a silly popular prejudice.