Chapter XIII.

Captain Lloyd joined us early in '64 from Home. He was a dashing officer and a powerful man, though up to this he had seen no field service. On his arrival he was given command of No. 1 Company (grenadiers), and was located at Kaitaki after its capture.

I may here mention that a gunner by the name of Stewart was killed at Kaitaki after its capture. He was down in a gully having a wash when he met his fate.

Captain Lloyd had been ordered by Colonel Warre, C.B., to take his Company and some military settlers along the ranges and destroy all the native crops found. Unfortunately he had had no experience of Maori dodgery, and as they got to this place, Ahu-ahu, the men were scattered about over a considerable area, when suddenly they were fired upon by a party of the enemy near at hand. They had no rallying point, hence a kind of a panic occurred. Matters were serious. Arms were everywhere but where they ought to have been—at hand.

Poor Lloyd jumped into a pit and fought desperately, killing—as was aferwards stated by a native woman—five or six Maoris before he was mastered himself. "What happened to him is a matter of history. Several others met their fate, and some took shelter until reinforcements could arrive from New Plymouth, and that was not till just about dusk. They left there about noon; the distance was sixteen or eighteen miles. The force, when they did arrive, could only collect the dead.

The enemy fought shy and kept out of the way. One man was still missing, a Sergeant Appleby, of the Military Settlers.

There is a very melancholy incident connected with poor Captain Lloyd. He was in New Plymouth the night before page 74 on a visit to his wife and family, and though he had already received orders for this duty, he applied to Colonel Warre for permission to remain in town all night and to postpone his expedition a day. This the Colonel did not feel inclined to do, and the gallant Lloyd started off to his post. He had not gone many minutes when the Colonel sent word that he could remain, hut it was too late. Poor Mrs Lloyd could not send after him, he being mounted, and she never gazed on his face again. She was cast in terrible grief. They were remarkably attached to each other, and it was feared that she would lose her reason.

There was a Captain Lloyd visiting this colony a year or two ago, and I believe it was a son of our gallant Captain.

Ahu-ahu was a nasty place to tackle had it been at all defended. It had a zig-zag sap running from base to top through which men could pass up or down unseen by anyone on the flat. There were also several rifle pits and a trend running out some distance from the base of the spur. At this time nearly all the flat was covered with high fern and flax. This very sad affair occurred on the 6th April, 1864.

Shortly after this a fairly strong force went down as fa: as Stoney River, to see how the natives were getting on. We bivouacked near this river for the night. Next [unclear: morning] force moved inland to pay their respects to "Big Jack," why hung out somewhere there, though there was no intention of attacking his Pah, merely to ascertain its whereabouts in case such an idea as attacking might show itself some day.

We had not gone far when we discovered the tracks of bare feet recently made. Captain Russell's company, to which I belonged, were in the advance, and before leaving the company had been told off and instructed what to do in case of trouble. They were marching in fours right in front and in case of any firing, they were to at once front form then equally divide themselves on each side of the tract. When drawing near the bush, we were every minute expecting a salute in the shape of a feu de joie.

Captain Mace, of the Mounted Volunteers, was asked by Colonel Butler to ride up on a certain mound and look ahead and as this line was just in line with us, somewhat to our left we were halted. All eyes were on the gallant Mace. He did not stop long on the mound, but turned and rode down to the Colonel, and told him the pah was not far ahead.

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"Move on," said the Colonel, "but look out." "Look out," he again said. Then, without the slightest warning from the enemy, they began blazing away; but though they were within fifty yards of us, the Sawneys could not hit any one for some time. Then John Dowling got a bullet through his left shoulder. Our Company at the firing like lightning spread themselves out and began to return the salute with interest. Then an Armstrong gun was brought up, and it seemed to have upset their nerves a hit, for their fire at once became less and less.

How the three mounted officers escaped was a mystery, for the lead was flying round them like rain. The word to retire was then given, and old John Mullins roared out, "Retire be d——d! Let us go ahead and take the d——d pah. I'd like to have a tussle with Big Jack."

John was well known, and under the circumstances. Colonel Butler took very little notice of what he said. He merely said, "Shut up, you old fool, Mullins. I was not sent to attack the pah."

Retire we did, followed and saluted by Big Jack and some of his tribe; but they were careful not to get near enough to tread on our heels. Now and then a shell would be sent over to them just to keep up the fun.

On our way back to New Plymouth, we called at Ahu-ahu, and discovered the body of Sergeant Appleby, which could not be found on the 6th April.

In fossicking round this place we came across several trunks and other things, which had been looted from the "Lord Worsley," steamer, when she was wrecked. I remember coming upon a photo of a Miss Briggs, who was a passenger by the ill-fated steamer.

I met Mick Kervin one day in Devon street and he said, "Be heavens, Sergeant, there's something worth marrying in this place, isn't there. If you were to hunt the County of Kerry all over you couldn't find such pretty girls."

"Yes, Mick," I replied, "there are some blooming cheeks here, and no mistake. I suppose you will be selecting one to make her Mrs. Kervin some day."

"Och! who'd be bothered with an old fool like me, but you, you sly dog, seem to be moving in that line, and I wish you and your choice good luck, so I do, and may the saints be good to the pair of ye, and all the little ones when they come."

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Poor Mick did not live to see but two of the baker's dozen.

There was a good healthy joke got off at the expense of a member of the "Royal Tigers" in New Plymouth. A fine old sort he was (very fine indeed), tall, but remarkably thin. The joke was, that he was so thin that his leather stock (used in those days) slipped over his shoulders and he lost it. It that was true, he must have been as thin as a certain Yankee was supposed to be, of whom it was said by experts that it" would take about three such men to make a shadow."

A grand set of fellows were the "Tigers," different far from those of another regiment, some said. A certain pah was the source of some anxiety, and it was suggested it should be stormed and captured.

"Pooh-pooh!" said General Waddy, "we are bound to have a few men killed over it. I'll tell you what to do, Just encamp the _____th Regiment within three miles of it, and if they have not the whole concern cleared away in three days my name is not Dick Waddy."

The colony, as old settlers will remember, was yet anything but tranquil. General Cameron, having fixed matter; up in the Waikato, took all available force down to Wanganui, and at the end of 1864 my company—the last of our regiment—bid adieu to New Plymouth, and went to Wanganui to mingle with several regiments and detachments.

In January, 1865, the force left there for Alexander's farm, a few miles out and on the coast. Soon they moved, on leaving a post at Kai-iwi, to Nukumaru. A picquet of the 50th Regiment fared badly. They were suddenly pounced upon, and several never saw the sun rise next day.

The enemy seemed to have had a decided objection to the advance of the force. Matters were by no means pleasant A gloom was cast over the country round, and, in fact, right down the coast to Wellington. The natives were sullen, and those in whom settlers had hitherto placed every confidence were not to be trusted too much.

On the 6th February my company was ordered out to join in the festivities going on at Nukumaru. All the regiment knew that where there was mischief to be done our company would have to be about. We had had a long spell under canvas (outpost duty) before leaving New Plymouth end, and if any company was to be left in Wanganui, ours had the greatest claim. So when we joined the force at Nukumaru this matter seemed to have presented itself, and there was page 77 some mistake about us going out. This being the headquarters, they hardly understood our going, and an order was issued that night for us to retrace our steps next day.

This we did not do, for our captain arranged for some other company to go in, for if this war is to be crushed, my company must have a big say in it.

In a few days we moved on to Waitotara. During this march a man of the 50th fell dead. After a brief stay here, and establishing a post and a commissariat depot, we moved on to Patea, and in order to lighten our loads, our greatcoats and other clothing were to be sent on by the little steamer "Gundagi." We only took one blanket each. This little arrangement would have been admirable, only, when we got to Patea, rough, wet weather came, and the steamer was unable to face the sea. This lasted for several days, and we were in a pretty fix. No change of clothing, no overcoats, and alas! only one blanket. Whilst in this plight I was detailed for Field Officer's Orderly, and Colonel Buller was the Field Officer.

As I reported myself to him he said, "You had better go round at sundown and make yourself acquainted with the position of the picquets, so that you can find them in the night."

I did this, and I flattered myself that I could have found them with my eyes shut.

At 11 p.m. I called on the Colonel as arranged, and off we started for the picquets. It was raining about as hard as it knew how, and as for darkness—well, I never saw anything blacker than that night was. We got to one picquet all right, and were on our way to the next when the Colonel said, "You are going too much to the left."

I replied that I thought not.

In a few more seconds he repeated the remark, and he would persist in it.

"Let me take the lead," he said.

So he did, and at once made a half-right turn.

I told him he would get into the swamp shortly. I had hardly the words out when in he goes, and I, being so close to him, before I knew what had happened, was on top of him, and in our floundering about, in place of retracing our steps, we were plunging farther into it. There was one page 78 thing in our favour, or rather, in mine—I could not possibly be wetter than I was before.

"I wish," said the Colonel, "I had allowed you to keep the lead."

"So do I, sir, for to tell you the truth, we shall have a job to get out of this."

We had not the remotest idea which way to steer to bring us out soon. We were so low down that we could not see the light in the guard tent; so I climbed on the Colonel's back and this enabled me to see the light in the guard tent. Then we made in the opposite direction, and were soon out. It was our misfortune that we could not shake off some of the we and mud from us.

We took the other picquets, and the Colonel said, "You had better come to my tent," which we reached about hall past twelve. We ought to have done all in about 20 minutes

"Just help me off with my top-boots, then we will have; tot of grog."

This was much easier said than done. I got them off in time. Then he reached under his bed for the bottle. He pulled it out right enough, and I was anticipating the benefit just then of a good stiff nip, but lo! there was not so much in it as would fill a girl's thimble. He was sorely annoyed and I was sadly disappointed. Thus I had to quit and call again at three to go round again.

"But," said the Colonel, "you shall take the lead this time."

I went to my tent and just lay down as I was; was called by a sentry at three, and off we went again. I often wondered that that night did not prove a serious one to me.

The next day the weather cleared up and our overcoats &c., turned up, and we soon began to feel happy.