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Death of Rangihaeata.—Road-Making Experiment.—Early Recollections of Otaki.

In 1856 Rangihaeta was attacked by measles in a very severe form. Wishing to visit Otaki, ill as he was, he got his groom to drive him thither in his trap. On reaching the Waikawa, and feeling very hot and feverish, he stopped the trap and plunged, into the river. He went on to Otaki, where he soon became much worse, and died in about two days. The body was taken by the Natives to Poroutawhao to be buried beside his wife. Hundreds of Natives assembled for the tangi; there was a great procession along the sea-beach, great feasting and much indulgence in strong drink at the grog shanties, which were then to be found along the coast. To this dissipation and excess of this period old residents trace the beginning of the falling-off in numbers of the West Coast tribes. Deadly and destructive diseases, hitherto unknown among them made their appearance, carrying off old and young. But the Natives, themselves failed to see the connection between the diseases by which they were afflicted, and the drunkenness and immorality to which those diseases were so largely due. Their fathers, they said, worshipped the old gods, and died of old age; the new religion of the pakeha had brought strange diseases and death with it. Even now, this notion is widely prevalent, and there is a disposition to revert to the old ceremonies superstitions. Whatever benefits Christianity and civilisation may have brought to the Maoris, the changes have in many points not been in the way of improvement. There is a tendency to separate themselves from the Churches, against which the missionaries often find themselves labouring in vain, and I know even now of educated Natives who consult the tohunga.

Sir George Grey's first experience in setting the Natives to road-making succeeded so well that he made it a matter of policy, and engaged a number of the Ngatiwehiwehi at half-a-crown a day on the Wellington-Paelcakariki road. The tribe had no horses—in fact a horse was seldom seen in their district—and they had a great ambition to possess one. So they formed a kind of company set to work diligently on the road, and when they had earned enough money they went to Wellington and bought a mare, having agreed that each one of the joint proprietors was to have a foal. The purchase was-a very engrossing piece of business, but was completed at last to the satisfaction of all concerned. But the incident brought trouble to one of the shareholders. Passing a

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baker's shop when he felt hungry, and seeing no one in charge, he quietly entered, stole a loaf, and concealed it under his blanket. But he had been seen, and had not gone far before he found himself in the hands of the police. He was brought before the magistrate in due course, and sentenced to two or three weeks' Liacarceretion in the Wellington goal. His companions, returning to Waikawa with their purchase, named the mare Whareherehere (prison-house), in memory of the adventure. The tribe could not make enough of its first horse, and led poor Whareherehere a hard life.

It was very laughable to see the Maoris learning to ride. Our rope-walk was their favourite practice-ground, and I once saw the hill which over-looked it covered with noisy and excited spectators—men, women, and children. They were holding a kind of race with the one mare to discover the best rider. The first had not ridden far before he fell to the ground, amid cries of "Hurrah ! He is down—there he lies!" With much shouting and laughing they caught the horse and another tried his skill. Racing along the track he came in without mishap, and was at once surrounded by a crowd, hurrahing, and declaring him to be the best. Then they crowded round the panting mare, which was almost ready to drop with fatigue, exclaiming, "What a beautiful animal she is !"

In those days the price of flour in Wellington was £2 per hundredweight. It was often difficult to obtain, and sometimes it was not procurable at any price. My father used to buy wheat and send it to Rangiuru, Otaki, to be ground. There was only one mill in the district—an old-fashioned hand-mill belonging to Mr. Taylor. We used to send down two bushels at a time by a Maori. The mill was so old and inefficient that it used to take the Maori and myself two days of heavy work to grind the two bushels, and Mr. Taylor used to retain half the meal as his fee for the use of the mill. It was an unprofitable bargain for us, and even when we returned with half the meal we had no means of sifting it sometimes we could get neither wheat or flour, and then our fare was potatoes and pork three times a day. For tea we used to get manuka (tea-tree) and dip it in the kettle, or, for a change, the huaiwai or piripiri (corrupted to "biddy-biddy" by the pakeha) and when tired of these we roasted maize as a substitute for coffee. We would go to the bush a id get some of the hard rough roots of the pewarewa (honeysuckle), and use them as graters for potatoes, from which we made potato cakes (called pakeke by the Maoris) as a substitute for bread. No beef or mutton could be had in those days, and for very black sugar we paid a shilling per lb.

There was at that time in Otaki a Roman Catholic missionary named Comte, who was greatly trusted and beloved by the Native people. He took great interest in all their concerns, and never page 18 interfered with Maori lands. His chief object was the education and evangelisation of their children; but he did not neglect their material welfare, and did his best to engage them in profitable and useful occupations. He introduced flour-mills, rope-walks, and bullock-drays, induced them to open stores to trade among themselves, and got them a schooner—the Elizabeth—to convey their produce to Wellington. He toiled hard among the hundreds of people, and with great success, as the flourishing settlement of Pukekaraka, near Otaki, sufficiently proved; and when he departed the Natives lost a veritable "shining light." With that absence of self-reliance and resourse characteristic of the Maori who was come into contact with civilisation, they lost heart when he departed, and relapsed, until by degrees the signs of the good work he had done among them disappeared.

When I arrived at Waikawa in 1845, there was a settlement of whalers living with Native women at Otaki according to Maori custom. They all had small properties, given to them by relatives of their female partners. In the whaling season they used to cross over to Kapiti Island, and after it was over return to the mainland. Their names were Hector M'Donald, Harvey James Cootes, Samuel Taylor, Ransfield, John Curley, Thomas Laughton, Hamilton, John Hammond, Robert Dury, Waistcoat (? Westcott), and J. Carpenter. Mr Skipworth was a gentleman living at Rangiuru, and engaged in sheep-farming. Four of his half-caste children (three daughters and one son) are still living. Kipa te Whatanui is the eldest son, and Mrs Thos. Roach and Mrs. Thos. Cootes are two of the daughters. Their grandfather was the famous Ngatiraukawa chieftain, Te Whatanui.

When I lived in Wellington in 1842 the whole of the hills were covered with dense forest, which was cut down and burned off by degrees, to make room for houses and gardens, as the settlers occupied their hill-side sections. The houses were of very primitive character, consisting of titaii interlaced with kareao (supplejack), and then dabbed with clay. In the vicinity were several fortified pas belonging to the Ngatiawa tribe, containing four or five hundred inhabitants. Their principal chief was Te Puni (miscalled "E Puni" by the settlers), and their fighting chief was Wharepori. If these Natives had been so disposed they could have risen and crashed the pakeha; but the relations between them were always of a friendly character. Conscious of their inferiority in numbers, the settlers always prudently maintained as effective a show of strength as possible.

I can remember the rejoicings in the year 1844, in which all the settlers took part, when Governor Fitzroy was re-called. Bon-fires were lighted, and as the Governor stepped into the boat his effigy was burned, while the Wellington band played "The King of the page 19 Cannibal Islands." This was the first brass band formed in Wellington, and the following are the names of the original bandsmen: Joseph Masters, John Webber, Henry Overend, Joe Grimaldi, Charlie Howe, Robert Durie, John Woods, Edward Bevan, George Bevan, William Dodds.

In 1842 a fire, which broke out in Lambton Quay, caused great loss of property. It started on the premises of Mr. Lloyd, baker, and spread to Claypoint (where the Stewart Dawson building now stands), destroying some thirty-five business houses, and resulting in a total damage estimated at £16,000.

In later years, when the Maori King movement spread through the North Island, the West Coast Natives came under its influence. In 1860 the King flag was hoisted at Otaki, and all the Ngatiwehiwehi, save the old chief Paora, joined the King party, Paora used all his powers of persuasion to prevent his tribe from joining, but his efforts were in vain. Most of the Ngatiawa at Waikanae, with Wi Tako, joined the Otaki Maoris at Pukekaraka, as well as some hundreds of Natives along the coast, Wi Tako, Heremaia, and Hape being the leading chiefs of the King party of Pukekaraka. Heremaia, wanting rigging for the flag-staff, came to me and gave me the order for all the necessary ropes. These he had tarred, and when the staff was finished and rigged up it resembled the mast of a ship. The Maoris placed a tatooed image clothed with a mat at the foot of the staff, and said it was their ancestor. The King flag was hoisted daily, and guards patrolled round the staff day and night. They appointed magistrates and policemen, issued summonses in the King's name, and ignored all summonses issued under the Queen's authority, saying that they belonged to the King. They drilled their men like European troops, and posted guards at night at the Pukekaraka bridge and at the Waitohu. A second large meeting-house was built, and I have seen about three hundred King Natives holding meetings at night. They would get very much excited when they heard bad news from the districts where fighting was going on. One day a letter came from the "King," ordering them to take up arms against the settlers, and a great meeting was held to consider the subject. I went to the meeting-house to hear and see what was done.

One of the chiefs rose and said : "The ship is on fire at Paranaki. Now let the eels of Otaki eat the fish of Otaki, and the eels of Taranaki eat the fish of Taranaki." Many spoke, counselling violence; but Wi Tako warned those assem' led of the difficulties in which such a course would involve them. The runanga (council), he said, was established to lay down laws for the good of the island, and he was opposed to the further shedding of blood" Let those who want to fight," he said, "go to the seat page 20 of war. I am faithful to the 'kingdom' till it dies, but will not countenance bloodshed nor ally myself with mad 'Hauhan' prophets." Heremaia said that so long as the military were kept away from the district there would be no disturbance; but that he looked with suspicion on the movements of the Governor and the confiscation of Native lands. Haps said : "The Governor has set fire to the ferns of Taranaki, and the smoke will cover the whole island." "Let our warfare be of the lips alone," Wi Tako replied. "If this [unclear: e] the case our path will be long and our days many. Let it be seen that this is our intention—we are not going to arise and fight." His counsel prevailed with the assembly, at the runanga decided that the people of the Otaki district shod not rise.

In 1862 Sir George Grey received from certain Natives in Otaki an assurance of loyalty and information of a real or supposed plot on the part of some of the followers of the "King" to rise and destroy the Europeans in their district. Without loss of time he visited Otaki in person, and sent a letter to Wi Tako at Pukekaraka to come to the Mission School with all his men, as he wished to hold a meeting there. Wi Tako sent a letter in reply to this effect :—" I cannot come to see you. You come to me and will talk to you." Sir George Grey rejoined :—" I cannot come under the King's flag; but I will meet you at Pukekaraka bridge. To this Wi Tako assented, and, accompanied by all the "king" Natives, met the Governor at the bridge. Sir George told them the outlines of the policy he hoped to pursue—not to renew military operations, but to retain his old Maori friends and reduce the number of his enemies. He explained that they were only injuring themselves by carrying out the "king's" ordeys, and he was sorry to see that the majority of the Otaki people appeared to have identified themselves with the disloyal proceedings of hoisting the flag of the so-called king. Wi Tako answered : "Salutations to you, Governor Grey. This is our word to you, hearken: Waitara was the source of evil, not the king. You go to Waikato and talk to him. Go to the roots. If the king is brought to naught by your plan, well and good—the branches will dry up Heremaia said : "We will not give up the king or his flag. If the Governor attacks our king we shall be evil—and do not accuse us of murder." Sir George returned, recognising that he had made no impression; but the interview may have had some effect on his subsequent action; for he afterwards withdrew the troops from Taranaki to Auckland, and took measures to attack the king in his own country, a good deal to the surprise of the disaffected Natives.

Archdeacon (afterwards Bishop) Hadfield was impressed by the imminent danger of an open rupture at Otaki. Hostile parties from the King Country were constantly coming and going, urging the local Natives to exterminate the settlers; Maori sentries were

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nightly posted; and everywhere there was uneasiness, suspicion, and apprehension. He called a meeting of all Maoris, friendly and disaffected, at the Mission School, and made a long speech to them. He said : "It is said that some of you talk of rising and exterminating the pakeha. Would you defile with human blood your Church and the soil where your fathers and ancestors are buried? Would you disgrace all your tribe3 for ever by committing murder in this sacred place?" So great was his personal influence that all the leading men assented, and declared that no rising should take place in their district, but that anyone who wished to join the king's fighting men should be at liberty to go. This settled the matter, and there was no rising. But for the Archdeacon's wise and bold action, things might have turned out very differently—there would in all likelihood have been a massacre of settlers and a West Coast war.

After this meeting, many of the turbulent spirits who advocated the rising went to the king's help at the seat of war, and never returned. One of these, Henare Taratoa, was a teacher at the Mission College, Otaki, who fell at the Gate Pa, Tauranga. On his body was found a written order of the day for war, beginning with a prayer and ending with the words, "If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink." Henare, who was highly educated in English, and had risen to the position of teacher, had many children under his care, and had done excellent work in the school and college. These institutions, under the control of Archdeacon Hadfield, were then in a flourishing condition; many children were boarded in the school, and hundreds of Natives regularly attended the Church. The Church bell rang at sunrise and sunset to call them to prayers, and I have seen the Church so full of Maoris that many had to sit around the porch outside, unable to gain admission. The most promising of all the branches of this flourishing Mission was the boarding college for Maori children, where they were educated, clothed, and brought up in the Church; and a great mistake was made when it was abolished. The Maoris had given six hundred acres for this charity school, and when they found that the mission had leased the land and that the children no longer benefitted by the proceeds they lost interest both in the school and church, and ceased to send their children to the day school. Consequently, they grew up in ignorance, and little better than heathens. When Archdeacon Haafield left Otaki the Maoris began to fall away from the Church, and ever since the College and Church have been going back. The only way I can see to check the tendency is to re-establish the old constitutions, and train up the children in Christian ordinances, Otherwise, it will be impossible to bring the Maoris back or check their decay. The older people have lost confidence both in the page 22 Mission and the Church. If the Otaki College were re-constructed and established as a centre of education for all the Maori children of the West Coast, the State might give valuable assistance in many ways. Many of the West Coast Native children have now no opportunities whatever of education. The college had many advantages—large grounds for garden and pasture where the children could be trained in tilling small plots of their own, and receiving unconsciously lessons in self-help and self-reliance. No more eligible spot for such a purpose could be found in the Island, nor a more comfortable home for the Maori children. The Archdeacon's farm was carried on by Mr. Woods and sons; he had the best shorthorn cattle and merino sheep on the coast; a flourishing dairy was one of the features of the farm, and the settlers used to go there for their supply of butter.