An Old New Zealander; or, Te Rauparaha, the Napoleon of the South.

Of the various battles which the Tainui people fought during the conquest of their new home we have scarcely any account, beyond vague and general statements of the most fugitive character. These, unfortunately, do not afford us any wealth of detail, the possession of which would enable us to picture in vivid colours the doughty deeds by which the invaders overcame the strenuous resistance of the tangata whenua, who maintained the struggle with the desperation of men who were fighting for their very existence. The story of the conquest of Kawhia may be regarded as lost in the misty distances of the past, but it is not surprising to discover by shadowy suggestion, such as quoted above, that, after the original inhabitants had been effectually subdued, the turbulent nature of the Maori should lead to devastating and sanguinary internecine wars. One of the traditions of the Tainui tribes is that they left the South Pacific because of a great battle called "Ra-to-rua," which originated in a quarrel between Heta and Ue-nuku; and it would be quite unreasonable to expect that they should suddenly forsake their warlike passions on reaching New Zealand, a country in which there was so much to fight for. With the Maori war had now become more than a passion: it had become part of his nature; for, through all the long centuries of migration, the story of the race had been one of incessant struggle with other races and with circumstances. They fought their way into the Pacific, and were in turn submerged under the tide of a second invasion, which gave to the world a people inured to the hardships inseparable from strife, who had tasted the bitterness of defeat as well as the joys of victory – a proud and haughty race, sensitive to the slightest insult, and so jealous of their honour that they were ever ready to vindicate their fair name before the only tribunal to which they could appeal – that of war. Steeped as they had been from birth in this atmosphere of strife, they had grown to expect the clash of arms at every turn, and, as they grew to expect it, they grew to love it. It is small wonder, then, that, when they found their enemies at Kawhia and its neighbourhood vanquished, they occasionally turned their hands upon each other, in the attempt to efface some real or imagined wrong.

But, fatal to national progress as these inter-tribal wars must have been, they, nevertheless, played an important and valuable part in spreading the Maori over New Zealand. A tribe defeated in battle was forced to fly before the pursuing enemy, with no alternative but either to appropriate some district still unoccupied or to displace some weaker people, upon whom the burden was cast of again establishing themselves where and as best they could. Thus the tide of fortune and misfortune rolled and recoiled from Te Reinga to Te Ra-whiti, until an asylum was sought by the last of the refugees even across the waters of Cook Strait. Although we have no accurate information on the point, it is probable that these blood-feuds contributed in no small measure to the ultimate distribution of the Tainui people; for their subsequent history is eloquent of the fact that, while they claimed common descent from the ancestral line of Hoturoa, this family bond did not prevent hatred and hostility springing up, and at times bathing their country in blood.

The first migration, however, of which we have any record did not apparently ensue upon the result of a battle, although a quarrel was its underlying cause. Hotu-nui, who was one of the principal chiefs of the canoe, is said to have taken as his wife a daughter of one of the tangata whenua, and was apparently living in the same village and on terms of perfect friendship with her people. Having been wrongfully accused of an act of petty thieving, he determined to rid the pa of his presence; and so, with one hundred of his immediate followers, he, it is said, moved off towards the Hauraki Gulf. As the years rolled on, and the systematic exploration of the country began to be undertaken, many similar expeditions, no doubt, went out from the parent home at Kawhia, one at least of which was fraught with fateful consequences. A chief named Raumati,[19 - His full name was Raumati-nui-o-taua. His father was Tama-ahua, who is reputed to have returned to Hawaiki from New Zealand, and his mother was Tauranga, a Bay of Plenty woman.] whose story has been embalmed in tradition, had taken a band of followers with him and travelled across the island, past Rotorua, until he finally came to the shores of the Bay of Plenty, where his mother's people lived. Here he was in the Arawa country, and it was not long before he heard that their canoe was lying at Maketu, some distance further to the southward. It will be remembered that there had never been good feeling between the Tainui and Arawa peoples, and Raumati determined upon an act which would demonstrate beyond all doubt that he, at least, was not disposed to hold out the olive-branch to Arawa. His scheme was to effect the destruction of the great canoe which had brought the hated rivals of his tribe to New Zealand. Once decided upon, his plan was put into execution with a promptness worthy of a better cause. Travelling along the coast from Tauranga to Maketu, he and his followers arrived at the latter place when all its inhabitants were absent in quest of food. But his trouble was that the Arawa had been berthed on the opposite side of the Kaituna River, where she had been housed under a covering of reeds and grass to protect her from the ravages of the weather. Nothing daunted, however, Raumati soon proved that his ingenuity was equal to the desperate circumstances in which he found himself placed. Taking a dart, and attaching to the point of it a live ember, he hurled the smoking stick across the water with unerring aim, and, to his intense satisfaction, he saw the firebrand fall in the midst of the combustible material which formed the covering of the canoe. The fire was soon in full blast: the glare of the flames lit up the surrounding country and was reflected in the red glow of the evening sky. The first impression of the people out in the forest was that the Maketu pa had been destroyed; but in the morning they were undeceived, for then they saw that it was their beloved canoe which had been burned, and all that remained of her was a heap of glowing ashes.[20 - The date of this incident has been approximately fixed at a. d. 1390, or forty years after the arrival of "the fleet."]

The unanimous conclusion was that this had been the work of an enemy, and messengers were sent far and wide to acquaint the tribesmen of the fate of the canoe and call them to council upon the subject. At the meetings the debates were long and serious, for the tribe was torn between its desire to live in peace with all men and its natural impulse to revenge the burning of the Arawa, which "they loved and venerated almost as a parent." They remembered the injunction which had been given to them by Hou when on the point of leaving Hawaiki: "O my children, O Mako, O Tia, O Hei, hearken to these my words: There was but one great chief in Hawaiki, and that was Whakatauihu. Now do you, my children, depart in peace, and, when you reach the place you are going to, do not follow after the deeds of Tu, the God of War: if you do, you will perish, as if swept off by the winds; but rather follow quiet and useful occupations, then you will die tranquilly a natural death. Depart, and dwell in peace with all; leave war and strife behind you here. Depart and dwell in peace. It is war and its evils which are driving you hence: dwell in peace where you are going; conduct yourselves like men; let there be no quarrelling amongst you, but build up a great people."

These were, no doubt, excellent words of advice, and they expressed a very noble sentiment; but the practical question which they had to determine was whether they could afford to adopt an attitude of passivity while these acts of aggression went on around them: whether they should declare war on account of the destruction of their canoe, or permit the act to pass without notice. This was the problem over which they pondered; and, as they discussed and debated it, "impatient feelings kept ever rising up in their hearts." But at last an end was made of deliberation, the decision of the tribe being in favour of battle as the one and only sufficient means by which they could be compensated for the burning of their canoe. In the words of the old tradition, "then commenced the great war which was waged between those who arrived in the Arawa and those who came in the Tainui."[21 - "It is to be presumed that Raumati's relatives and friends at Tauranga made his cause their own, for they met the Arawa people somewhere near Maketu, where a great battle was fought. Raumati's party, though successful at first, were defeated, and their leader killed by the power of makutu, or witch-craft, for Hatu-patu, the Arawa chief, caused a cliff to fall on him as he retreated from the battle, and thus killed him" (Polynesian Journal).]

CHAPTER III

A WARRIOR IN THE MAKING

In one of the many sanguinary battles of those intertribal wars which raged in Old New Zealand from this period down to the introduction of Christianity, Werawera, the father of Te Rauparaha, was captured, killed, and eaten. The subject of our sketch was at that time a mere child, and the grim old warrior who had made a meal of Werawera was heard to remark that, if ever the youngster fell into his hands, he would certainly meet a similar fate, as he would make a delicious relish for so great a warrior's rau-paraha. The rau-paraha here referred to was a juicy plant of the convolvulus family, which grew luxuriantly upon the sand-dunes of the seashore, and was largely used by the Maori of those days as an article of food. Such a tragic association of the child with the plant was never forgotten by his tribe, and it was from this circumstance that he derived that name which has stood paramount amongst Maori toas[22 - Braves.] of all time – Te Rauparaha – the convolvulus leaf. The branch of the Tainui people to which Te Rauparaha belonged was the Ngati-Toa tribe, who have already been described as occupying the country immediately surrounding the shores of Kawhia harbour. Like all the other Tainui tribes, these people claimed direct descent from Hoturoa, the admiral of the canoe; but the ancestor from whom they derived their name was Toa-rangatira, and from him Te Rauparaha was descended in a direct line on his father's side. Werawera, however, had married a Ngati-Raukawa lady, named Pare-kowhatu, and this fact, placing a bar sinister across Te Rauparaha's escutcheon, destroyed in a measure the purity of his pedigree from the Ngati-Toa point of view, although, as compensation, it gave him an influence with the Ngati-Raukawa tribe, which in after years carried with it fateful results.

The Ngati-Raukawa people were closely allied to Ngati-Toa by ties of blood and friendship; for Raukawa, the ancestor who gave them name and individuality as a tribe, was related to Toa-rangatira, both chiefs being descendants of Raka, and through him of Hoturoa. This common ancestry gave these two tribes a common interest and sympathy, which were steadily increased by frequent inter-marriages; and to these bonds they appear to have been faithful through all the varying fortunes of their history. Conflicts between the Ngati-Toa and Ngati-Raukawa tribes were less frequent than was the case with the majority of the tribal families; and when the time came to mould their affinities into a closer union, Te Rauparaha used this long-standing friendship as the central argument, by which he eloquently sought to convince Ngati-Raukawa that there was but one destiny for them and for Ngati-Toa.

Te Rauparaha had two brothers and two sisters, all older than himself; but none of them ever achieved a great position or reputation in the tribe, except perhaps Waitohi[23 - Waitohi had other children, one of whom, Topeora, afterwards became the mother of Matene Te Whiwhi, one of the most influential and friendly chiefs on the west coast of the North Island. Topeora is perhaps more famed than any other Maori lady, for the number of her poetical effusions, which generally take the form of kaioraora, or cursing songs, in which she expresses the utmost hatred of her enemies. Her songs are full of historical allusions, and are therefore greatly valued. She also bore the reputation of being something of a beauty in her day.], who might claim the reflected glory of being the mother of that fiery and volcanic soul, Te Rangihaeata. This chief, whose life enters largely into early New Zealand history, rose to be the fighting lieutenant and trusted adviser of his more famous uncle, and, in these questionable capacities, he was probably the most turbulent spirit who crossed the path of Wellington's pioneer colonists. Towards them he ever manifested an uncompromising hatred, the one redeeming feature of his hostility being the absolute frankness with which he proclaimed it.

Unfortunately but little is known of Te Rauparaha's boyhood. Presumably he was brought up by his mother, after his father's death, between the settlements at Maungatautari[24 - There appears to be some doubt as to the exact locality of Te Rauparaha's birth, some authorities giving it as Maungatautari and others as Kawhia.], where he was born about the year 1768, and Kawhia, where his father's relatives lived. As he grew in years, the greater part of his time was spent at Kawhia with the Ngati-Toa tribe, by whom he was regarded as a hereditary chief and as one of their future leaders. His influence with Ngati-Raukawa did not commence until he had attained to early manhood; and the visits which he paid to his kindred at Maungatautari during this period had no military importance, and could only be regarded as interchanges of friendship. His sojourns at Maungatautari were always welcome, for as a boy he is said to have had a particularly sunny disposition, and to have entered eagerly into all the amusements dear to the heart of Maori children of that day. These enterprises frequently led him into mischief, and into those moral pitfalls which beset the path of high-spirited lads. But, for all his boisterous spirits, the boy never failed to pay respect to his elders, and one of the marked characteristics of his nature at this time was his willing obedience to those who were entitled to give him commands. He was even known to have performed services at the request of a slave, whom he might very well have ordered to do his own work, since his birth and breeding placed him far above the behests of a menial.

As Te Rauparaha grew to youth and early manhood he began to display qualities of mind which soon attracted the attention of the leading Ngati-Toa chiefs; but, strange to say, his mother was the last to discern these exceptional talents in her son, and always maintained that Nohorua, his elder brother, was the clever boy of the family. These maternal expectations, however, were not destined to be realised.

Before the introduction of Christianity amongst the Maori, it was the custom to assign to a young chief some girl from his own or a neighbouring friendly tribe as his wife. Neither of the parties most directly interested in the alliance was consulted, and their feelings or wishes were not considered to have any important bearing upon the question. Such a system frequently led to unhappiness and heart-burning, but in the case of Te Rauparaha, the choice made for him proved to be a happy one, and Marore[25 - Marore was killed by a member of the Waikato tribe – it is said, at the instigation of Te Wherowhero – while she was attending a tangi in their district, about the year 1820.], a girl of tender grace, made him an admirable wife. Of her he became extremely fond, and out of this affection arose the first military enterprise which gave him fame and reputation as a leader of men.

As not infrequently happened in Maori life, his own people had prepared a great feast for some visiting tribesmen; but when the food which had been collected for their entertainment was distributed to the various families, Te Rauparaha observed with considerable displeasure that the portion given to Marore was of the very plainest, and contained no dainty morsel which she was likely to enjoy. The want of consideration thus shown towards his child-wife preyed upon the young chief's mind, and he speedily determined that, come what might, he would find with his own hand the relish which his friends had failed to provide. Accordingly he petitioned those in authority at Kawhia to permit him to organise a war party for the purpose of invading the Waikato country, where he hoped to take captive in battle some warrior who would make a banquet for his bride. At first his proposals were received with opposition, for the reason that he was himself at this time in delicate health, and it was deemed prudent that he should await recovery before embarking upon so desperate a venture. Moreover, the tribe being then at peace with Waikato, the chiefs were naturally reluctant to sanction any act which would inevitably embroil them in a quarrel with their neighbours. But the fiery enthusiasm which Te Rauparaha displayed for his own scheme, and the persistency with which he urged its claims, overcame the resistance of the tribal fathers, who thus acknowledged, for the first time, the strength of the personality with whom they had to deal.

Armed with this authority, he at once set about marshalling his forces, and his call to arms was eagerly responded to by a band of young bloods equally keen for adventure with himself. The taua[26 - War party.] made its way safely to the nearest Waikato pa, where the profound peace prevailing at the time had thrown the defenders off their guard. In the belief that the visitors were on a friendly journey, they invited their advance guard within the walls of the village. Soon, however, the error was discovered; and the inhabitants, realising the position, flew to arms with an alacrity which sent the invaders flying through the gate of the pa. The impetuous energy of the Waikatos, led by Te Haunga, induced them to push the pursuit a considerable distance beyond the walls of their stronghold; and it was the strategic use which Te Rauparaha made of this fact that gave him the victory and established his claim to leadership in future wars. Owing to the difficulty which he experienced in walking, he had not been able to march with the leaders, but was following with a second division of his men, when he saw, to his dismay, his warriors being chased out of the pa. His own force was as yet concealed behind an intervening hill, and, quickly taking in the situation, he ordered his men to lie down amongst the manuka scrub, which grew to the height of several feet beside the narrow track which they had been traversing. He saw that the fugitives would follow this line, in order to rejoin him as speedily as possible, and in this anticipation his judgment proved correct. At full run they swept past, closely followed by the angry Waikatos, who, having escaped from one trap, little dreamed how simply they were falling into another. Close in his concealment, Te Rauparaha lay until the last of the pursuing body had rushed by; then, bursting from his hiding-place, he attacked them in flank and rear with such vehemence that they were at once thrown into disorder. The tumult of his assault checked the flight of the Ngati-Toas, and the Waikatos, now wedged in between two superior forces, sustained heavy losses. Te Rauparaha is credited with having slain four of his opponents with his own hand, and the total killed is said to have numbered one hundred and forty. Amongst these was Te Haunga, the principal chief of the pa, who formed a specially valuable trophy in view of the purpose for which the raid had been organised. His body was carried home to Kawhia to provide the relish which Te Rauparaha so much desired for Marore.

Although this attack upon Waikato was only one of the many sporadic raids so common amongst the Maori tribes, and could not be regarded as a military movement of national importance, Te Rauparaha had conducted it with so much skill and enterprise that his achievement became the chief topic of discussion throughout the neighbouring pas, and, in the words of an old narrator, "he was heard of as a warrior by all the tribes." The fame which he had thus suddenly achieved, and the desire to live up to his reputation, inspired him with a new sense of responsibility, and he became a keen student of all that pertained to the art of war as practised in his day. He was shrewd enough to see the advantages attending military skill amongst a people with whom might was right, and, even at that age, he was ambitious enough to dream dreams which power alone would enable him to realise. He aimed at making the acquaintance of all the great chiefs of the surrounding tribes; and, when it was safe to visit them, he travelled long distances to sit at the feet of these old Maori warriors, and learn from them the subtle methods by which fields were won. These journeys gave him a familiarity with the country and the people which was very useful in the disturbed and precarious relations between Ngati-Toa and the neighbouring tribes. In these warlike excursions, which were as often of an aggressive as of a defensive nature, Ngati-Toa was not invariably successful. But, even in their defeats, the reputation of Rauparaha increased with his years, for he was ever turning to account some new device of tactics or giving some fresh proof of his personal courage.

Nor did he neglect to cultivate the good opinion of his tribe by generosity in the discharge of his social duties. His bounty was never closed against the stranger; and when he invited his friends to a feast, his entertainment was always of the most lavish kind. Even to his workmen he was strikingly considerate. He abolished the practice indulged in by the field labourers of giving a portion of the food provided for them to strangers who happened to arrive at the settlement, by insisting that the kumara-planters should retain their full ration and the strangers be fed with food specially prepared for them. This unconventional liberality speedily created the desired impression,[27 - The traditional accounts of the Maoris have it that at this period Te Rauparaha was "famous in matters relative to warfare, cultivating generosity, welcoming of strangers and war parties."] and became the subject of general remark amongst those who were on visiting terms with the Kawhia chief. It even became proverbial, for it was sometimes said of a benevolent Maori, "You are like Te Rauparaha, who first feeds his workmen and then provides for his visitors."

Reference has already been made to the fact that Te Rauparaha had been in the habit of making frequent visits to parts of the country distant from Kawhia, for the dual purpose of completing his education in the art of warfare and of strengthening his personal relations with influential chiefs, who might be useful to him in future diplomacy. During one of these excursions he had proceeded as far as what is now known as the Valley of the Thames, in the Hauraki Gulf, to pay his respects to the chiefs of the Ngati-Maru[28 - This tribe was afterwards partially exterminated during the raids of Hongi and Te Waharoa.] tribe, who were then both numerous and influential in that part of the island. How much he was esteemed by the leaders of this people may be judged by the fact that, when he was about to return, they, amongst other gifts, presented him with a firearm and a few cartridges, his first acquisition of the kind. To us the gift of an old flintlock might seem a trivial circumstance; but to a Maori, who was lingering on the fringe of the Stone Age, such a weapon was a priceless treasure. So dearly were they prized by the natives at this time that only the consideration of warmest friendship could have induced the Ngati-Maru to part with even one. There was in these rusty and erratic "fire-spears" that which would before long revolutionise the whole system of native warfare; and the shrewdest of the natives saw that the tribe which acquired the largest number of guns in the least time would have an enormous advantage in the field of battle.

For some years a few vagrant and adventurous voyagers, together with the more honest whalers, had been making the Bay of Islands one of their principal rendezvous; and in the desultory trade which had been carried on between the crews and the natives, guns had first fallen into the possession of the Nga-Puhi tribe. The deadly use which these warriors had made of this new instrument of destruction, in their skirmishes with their neighbours, had so impressed the native mind that forces hitherto well-disciplined were seized with panic when marched against guns, until it was felt by the inland tribes that such weapons were absolutely indispensable to safety or victory.[29 - "When Paora, a northern chief, invaded the district of Whanga-roa, in 1819, the terrified people described him as having twelve muskets, while the name of Te Korokoro, then a great chief of the Bay of Islands, who was known to possess fifty stand of arms, was heard with terror for upwards of two hundred miles beyond his own district" (Travers).] Many of the natives, whose curiosity had been aroused by the novel sights which they had seen on the visiting whalers, had shipped as seamen before the mast in the hope of seeing more of the great world from which the pakeha came. In this way they had been carried to Port Jackson, where they had witnessed on a more extensive scale the destructive power of the European weapons. Owing to the misjudged generosity of the Sydney public, some had been able to bring a few muskets back with them, while others had secured hatchets and bayonets, which, fastened on the end of long handles, were soon recognised as weapons vastly superior to the spears and taiahas of their fathers. These discoveries accentuated the desire to replace their obsolete arms with others of a more modern type; and as a result of the excessive demand thus created, the commercial value of a musket rose in the market, until the traders asked, and the Maoris willingly gave, as much as a cargo of flax for a single weapon. The effect of this musket-hunger was to change completely the existing relations between the pakeha and Maori, going far to remove the estrangement and distrust which had been generated between the two races. Up to this time but little respect had been shown to the dark-skinned natives of these far-away islands by the rude sailors who had visited them; and in their contempt for the "niggers" they had been guilty of many outrages which would have staggered humanity, had humanity been able to grasp the full measure of their ferocity.[30 - "If we take the whole catalogue of dreadful massacres they (the New Zealanders) have been charged with, and (setting aside partiality for our own countrymen) allow them to be carefully examined, it will be found that we have invariably been the aggressors: and when we have given serious cause of offence, can we be so irrational as to express astonishment that a savage should seek revenge?" (Earle).] Retaliation, culminating in the murder of Marion du Fresne and the burning of the Boyd, followed upon outrage, and hatred, fed by misunderstanding, was daily driving the two peoples further and further asunder.[31 - Marsden, writing of this time, says that such was the dread of the Maoris that he was compelled to wait for more than three years before he could induce a captain to bring the missionaries to New Zealand, as "no master of a vessel would venture for fear of his ship and crew falling a sacrifice to the natives." As an extra precaution, all vessels which did visit the country were supplied with boarding nets.] But the need and the hope of acquiring muskets suddenly changed all this, for the natives now saw that it was necessary to their very existence that they should cultivate the European, in order that they might trade their flax and pigs for guns; while the white man, seeing that he could procure these valuable products at so insignificant a cost, was nothing loath to forget the many injuries which had been inflicted upon his own race.

Thus the spirit of crime and revenge, which for years had darkened the page of New Zealand's history, suddenly disappeared in the eagerness for trade, and in its stead came the spirit of industry, which sent countless natives toiling in the swamps and on the hill-sides, preparing in feverish haste the fibre wherewith they might purchase this new weapon of destruction. This mad rush for muskets did not escape the keen observation of Te Rauparaha, who saw with unerring precision what its ultimate effect must be. Had he been a resident of the east coast there is little doubt that he too would have plunged with enthusiasm into the fatal scramble, trusting to his natural shrewdness and business acumen to secure for him a fair share of the market's prizes. But he was at the outset placed at this disadvantage. His country was on the west coast of the island, where the whalers and traders seldom came; and the Ngati-Toa, unlike the Nga-Puhi, had few or no opportunities of holding intercourse with the pakeha, from whom alone the coveted muskets could be procured. It was therefore with a heavy heart and sorely perplexed mind that Te Rauparaha returned to Kawhia, for he knew with absolute certainty that so soon as the Waikatos succeeded in arming themselves with firelocks it was only a question of time when they would decide to attack him and his people, in satisfaction for many an old grudge. Then the day would go hard with Ngati-Toa, who could only encounter this new invasion with stone clubs and wooden spears.

As the result of many years of intertribal wars the country surrounding Aotea harbour, to the north of Kawhia, had become almost denuded of population. A few inconsiderable pas still remained, but their defenders were so inefficient as to constitute a living invitation to some stronger people to come down and exterminate them. Thus it was not surprising that a section of the Ngati-Mahanga tribe, whose home was at Raglan, should, after a successful raid in this quarter, decide to permanently occupy so inviting a district. They immediately attacked and drove out the feeble occupants, and then sat down to enjoy the fruits of their conquest. This act of aggression was hotly resented by Te Rauparaha, who could not suffer his allies to be buffeted in so unceremonious a manner, and within an incredibly short period of time he had his fleet of canoes on the water carrying a taua to Whanga-roa, where he met and decisively defeated Ngati-Mahanga. The report of this Ngati-Toa victory soon spread throughout the enemies' domain, and in due course reached the ears of those branches of the tribe living at the mouth of the Waikato River, who at once resolved to espouse the cause of their defeated friends. Manning seven large canoes, they came down the coast with a well-disciplined force under the renowned leader Kare-waho, and landing at Otiki, they first demolished the pa there and then passed on to Ohaua, whither the fugitives had fled, and delivered their attack upon that stronghold. No decisive result was achieved, as the rupture appears to have been healed before victory crowned the arms of either side, and the invaders were as eager to return as the besieged were glad to see them go. But the peace thus hastily made was as speedily broken, and a series of events was soon to ensue which was fated to have far-reaching results. Shortly after the return of the northern raiders a noted Waikato warrior, named Te Uira, came into the disputed Aotea territory, and while there varied his sport as a fisherman by killing a stray Ngati-Toa tribesman. On hearing of this tragedy Te Rauparaha and a war party promptly went over and retaliated by slaying Te Uira. Though to all appearances strictly within the code of morality which sanctions the taking of a life for a life, the Waikato people chose to regard this act as one of treachery, and the magnitude of the crime was measured by the value of the life taken. Te Uira was a man who had ranked high in their esteem. As a warrior and a leader of men he was a toa, indeed, and his death was to them a disaster. They therefore determined that the annihilation of Ngati-Toa was the only adequate solace for their injured feelings, and on this end they now concentrated their energies. War party after war party was sent over to Kawhia, and many desperate battles were fought, out of which Ngati-Toa seemed to emerge generally with success. But the gloom of impending disaster was gathering round Te Rauparaha, for the powerful Ngati-Mania-poto tribe became leagued with Waikato against him; and, although he had no difficulty in defeating them singly when they met, their coalition with his old enemy was a more serious matter. Stung by a recent repulse at Ta-whitiwhiti, they hurried messengers to all their distant friends, and in answer to their call a combined force of 1,600 men under Te Rau-Angaanga, father of the more famous Te Wherowhero, was soon marching against Kawhia's diminishing band of defenders. Crossing the ranges, they soon fell upon the Hiku-parea pa, which they invested at the close of the day. During the night half their force lay concealed in ambush, and when the garrison emerged in the morning to give battle to an apparently small body of besiegers they were mortified to find themselves so hopelessly outnumbered and outgeneralled that there was nothing left for them to do but die as bravely as they might. The invaders then marched to attack the great Te Totara pa, where Te Rauparaha was personally in command, and here again the defenders were driven in before the swift onslaught of the allies. But where his arms had failed him Te Rauparaha's diplomacy stood him in good stead. He managed to soothe Te Rau-Angaanga into agreeing to a truce, and a temporary peace was patched up, only to be broken by the turbulent temper of the Ngati-Toa, who saw no impropriety in committing fresh aggressions so soon as their militant neighbours had returned home.

The position was thus becoming grave for Te Rauparaha, and in an effort to stem the threatening disaster he sought to turn to some practical purpose the influence and prestige which he had now gained with the neighbouring chiefs. He suggested to his more trusted friends amongst the Maori leaders the need and wisdom of a confederation of all their tribes against the oppression of the Waikato people. But, though conducted with consummate tact and skill, these negotiations were destined to be futile. While all were friendly enough with Te Rauparaha, mutual jealousies existed amongst the other tribes, which destroyed any prospect of that unanimity and cohesion so essential to the success of such a scheme. Nga-Puhi remembered how Ngati-Maru had invaded their territory in days of old, and now that they were possessed of muskets they saw a prospect of repaying the debt – a chance much too promising to be lightly thrown away. Te Heuheu, the great chief at Taupo, would not coalesce with Ngati-Maru, and the Arawa still nursed their grudge against Tainui. These ancient grievances, which never seemed to die, kept the tribes outside Waikato apart, while the fact that Te Wherowhero had been able to form an offensive and defensive alliance with the Blücher of Maoridom, Te Waharoa, so strengthened his position that, after months wasted in fruitless appeal, Te Rauparaha returned to Kawhia more than ever convinced that if his tribe was to be spared the humiliation of defeat, and perhaps annihilation, self-reliance must be the keynote of his future policy.

During the next two years (1816-1818) Te Rauparaha devoted himself to occasional excursions against Waikato, in which he was moderately successful; but his more important operations at this period were directed against the tribes of Taranaki. The peculiar ethics of Maori warfare were largely responsible for the first of these southern descents upon a people with whom he was now beginning to enjoy considerable intercourse. A marriage had been celebrated between Nohorua, his elder brother, and a Taranaki lady,[32 - Whare-mawhai, sister of Huri-whenua, chief of the Ngati-Rahiri, who lived at Waihi, four or five miles north of Waitara.] and by way of commemorating the solemnity, a feast on a sumptuous scale had been given to the bridegroom's friends. Te Rauparaha, with the generosity for which he was at this time remarkable, was not slow to return the compliment, and in the course of a few months he journeyed southward to Te Taniwha pa, where Huri-whenua, the brother of Nohorua's young wife, lived, bringing gifts of dried fish and other seasonable foods. These social amenities led to still more intimate relations, and at the end of the following kumara and taro harvest the chief of Te Taniwha proceeded northward in his fleet of canoes on a promised visit to Kawhia. A fair wind beating into their triangular sails carried the canoes to within ten miles of their destination, and at the close of day the fleet headed for the shore at Harihari. Next morning they were met at their camp by Te Rauparaha and Rauhihi, who assured them of a cordial welcome at Kawhia and then proceeded overland to prepare their reception. In the meantime a rolling surf had set into the bay where the canoes were beached, and in the operation of launching them several were overturned and their crews nearly drowned. This misfortune, which involved the loss of all the food intended for the feast, angered Huri-whenua exceedingly, and he adopted a strange but characteristically Maori-like method of seeking balm for his injured feelings. Gathering a party of his people together, he set off in pursuit of Te Rauparaha and his friend, and, attacking them, succeeded in killing Rauhihi, but not Te Rauparaha, who reached Kawhia after an exciting chase. His assailants, knowing full well that this unprovoked attack upon their chief would excite the indignation of Ngati-Toa, retired in haste to their home, which they immediately began to place in a condition of defence against the day when Te Rauparaha would return to seek satisfaction for the contemptuous disregard of his hospitality and the menace offered to his life. Nor were their precautions taken a moment too soon. Scarcely had the walls been strengthened and the Waihi stream dammed up so as to form a wide lake on one side of the pa than Te Rauparaha appeared, accompanied by Tuwhare,[33 - Tuwhare belonged to the Roroa branch of the Nga-Puhi tribe.] one of the most celebrated Nga-Puhi chiefs of his day. This was Tuwhare's first visit to the south. He had gladly accepted the invitation to join the expedition, for his purpose in coming to Kawhia had been to lead an invasion into Taranaki territory, in order to secure some of the valuable mats, for making which the people of that part were widely famed.

Tuwhare's contingent consisted of not more than two hundred men, but they brought with them something which, at this period, was more to be dreaded than men – the deadly musket. A few of these arms were carried by the invaders, while the defenders had not as yet even heard of or seen them.[34 - When the musket was first introduced into Taranaki, a slave was very anxious to know how it was used. A Nga-Puhi warrior explained to him the method of loading and priming, then told him to look down the muzzle. The slave did so, whereupon the Nga-Puhi pulled the trigger, and the top of the unfortunate slave's head was blown off, much to the amusement of the surrounding crowd.] The precautions of the garrison had robbed the northerners of all hope of successfully capturing the pa by assault, and so they sat down to besiege it in the most leisurely fashion. For several weeks besiegers and besieged watched each other across the wide lagoon which had been formed by the waters of the Waihi. At last Te Rauparaha and his people, growing weary of the enforced inactivity, sent proposals of peace to Huri-whenua. These were accepted, and subsequently ratified, but not before the pride of Ngati-Toa had been salved by their insistence upon a quaint condition. Te Rauparaha, recognising that the damming of the Waihi stream had been the means of frustrating his plans, demanded that, before the siege was raised, the dam should be removed. The point was conceded and the barrier broken down; and, as the waters rushed back into their bed, the northerners ostentatiously discharged their muskets in token of victory, and "then," says a Maori chronicler, "this ignorant people of these parts heard for the first time the noise of that weapon, the gun." The war party remained for some time on amicable terms at Te Taniwha, and before they had resolved to return home they were importuned to engage in further aggressions by Te Puoho, of whom we shall hear more anon. This warrior was a man of influence amongst the Ngati-Tama tribe, who held what has been called "the gate of Taranaki"; and it was due to the numerous connections by marriage between the northerners and Ngati-Tama that the former had been permitted to pass unmolested to the attack upon Te Taniwha. Te Puoho now sought recompense for his friendship by enlisting the sympathies of the northern leaders in the redress of his own grievances. He solicited their aid in an attack upon Tatara-i-maka pa, the home of those who had been responsible for the death of his sister not long before.

Obedient to Te Puoho's summons, and eager to secure mats and heads and slaves, the war party marched upon the pa, which stood with its terraced ramparts upon the sea-coast eleven miles south-west of New Plymouth. Seeing the invaders approach, the defenders went out to meet them, and gave them battle on the open space in front of the pa; but the sound of the guns, and the sight of men falling as by the hand of some invisible enemy, so terrorised the defenders that their lines were soon broken, and they fled, a demoralised host, back to their stronghold, which was immediately stormed and taken with great slaughter. This incident inspired the following lament, which was composed by one of the Taranaki people, in memory of those who fell at Tatara-i-maka: —

"Sweet is the Spring, the September month,
When brilliant Canopus stands aloft,
As I lay within my solitary house,
Dazed with sad thoughts for my people
Departed in death like a flash.
To the cave of Rangi-totohu —
Emblem of sad disaster —
They are gone by the leadership
Of Uru, of the fearsome name.
'Twas there at the hill of Tatara-i-maka
The foe advanced in wedge-like form,
Whilst our gathered people bid defiance
At the entrance of the pa,
Where Muru-paenga[35 - Associated with Tuwhare and Te Rauparaha in this raid was another and equally famous chief, named Muru-paenga. That he was a great warrior is proved by the fact that his enemies speak of him in the lament already quoted as "the army-raiser, the leader," while his friend Te Taoho, in a tangi composed after his fall, refers to his "warlike eloquence," and compares him to "a richly-laden vessel, with all knowledge and great courage." But Muru-paenga is not merely famed in song, for his achievements have in a measure passed into proverb. In the taking of pas, one of his favourite stratagems was to stealthily approach the enemy's fort at nightfall, and pounce upon it with the first light of dawn. This involved the sleeping of his men amongst the tender ferns growing on the outer edge of the bush, which in the morning necessarily bore a trodden-down appearance, a fact which did not escape the keen observation of those who had oft been the victims of his tactics. Consequently, when Muru-paenga was killed by Nga-Puhi in 1826, the joyful news went through the country which he had previously devastated, and the saying was composed, in significant suggestion that the ferns and the people would no longer be crushed, "Rejoice, O ye little ferns of the woods, Muru-paenga is dead."] forced his way —
The army-raiser, the leader —
His was the fatal blow delivered,
At the ascent of Tuhi-mata:
Hence I am dried up here in sorrow."

From Tatara-i-maka the taua moved southwards, attacking Mounu-kahawai as they went. This pa was taken under cover of the smoke caused by firing the dry raupo which grew in the neighbouring swamps, and then Tapui-nikau was invested. Here the defenders, though fighting only with their rakau maori, or native weapons, made so gallant a resistance that not even the guns of the invaders could penetrate it. They had filled the fighting towers of the pa with huge boulders and smaller stones, and the branches of the trees which overhung the trenches were lined with men, who handed the missiles to those best able to drop them upon the enemy as they swarmed round the walls.[36 - "During the siege, Tawhai (afterwards Mohi Tawhai), father of the late Hone Mohi Tawhai, M.H.R., who was with the northern contingent of the taua in the attack, was close under one of the towers of the pa when one of the defenders hurled a big stone at him which split open his head. But by careful doctoring he recovered – careful doctoring according to Maori ideas meant that they poured hot oil into the wound and then sewed it up" (Polynesian Journal).] Changing their tactics, the invaders drew off to a position which closed all communication with the pa, and at the same time gave them complete control of the surrounding country, so as to prevent the possibility of succour reaching the beleaguered pa. It was during the respite from active hostilities thus secured that there occurred one of those strange incidents which, though common enough in Maori warfare, appear so anomalous in the light of European custom. Te Ratutonu, one of the defending chiefs, had been so conspicuous in repelling attacks that his gallantry and skill in arms became the subject of universal admiration throughout the northern camp. But not alone upon the men had his bravery made its impression. Rangi Topeora, Te Rangihaeata's sister, had witnessed his prowess, and, charmed by his handsome figure and manly strength, had been seized with a desire to have the hero for her husband. When the clash of arms had ceased, she persuaded her uncle, Te Rauparaha, to have Ratutonu "called," a ceremony which was performed by some one approaching the beleaguered pa, and under a guarantee of safety, inviting the warrior into the camp. Ratutonu obeyed the summons, and came down from the pa to meet Topeora; and to her he was married after the orators had delivered themselves of speeches rich in eulogy of their new-found kinsman, and full of admiration for the virtues of his bride.[37 - Topeora did not secure her husband without a struggle, for another lady, Neke-papa, had also taken a fancy to the handsome warrior, and as Te Ratutonu was leaving the pa, a dispute arose as to which should have him. But Topeora, being fleet of foot, ran to meet the advancing warrior, and cast her topuni, or dog-skin mat, over him, "and this being in accordance with Maori custom, Te Ratutonu became the husband of Topeora."]

This unexpected union had raised a hope in the breast of the defenders that the rigour of the siege would now be relaxed, and that peace would be made as a fitting sequel to the romantic nuptials. In this they were, however, doomed to disappointment, for the Nga-Puhi, knowing that the food of the pa must be failing, would listen to no suggestion of compromise. But, moved by a more generous impulse, Ngati-Awa, the Taranaki section of the allies, entered into secret communication with the garrison, and finally arranged that the defenders should be allowed to pass through their lines by night and escape to the neighbouring hills. Next morning, great was the excitement in the camp when it was discovered that there was neither smoke ascending from the fires nor sound from the ramparts of the pa. The enemy had slipped from under their very hand; had flown from under their very eyes; and, as Ngati-Awa kept their own counsel, there was not a trace to show or suggest how the trick had been accomplished. Nothing, therefore, remained for the outwitted besiegers to do but avail themselves of what plunder had fallen into their hands, and make the best of their way back to their homes.

Upon the return of the taua to Kawhia, its composite forces separated and departed to their respective districts, but not before the plans of a still more extensive campaign had been discussed. These operations, however, did not commence for a year, and, in the meantime, the seriousness of his position in relation to the Waikato people was more than ever apparent to Te Rauparaha, whose inability to come into contact with the whalers, and the consequent difficulty he experienced in becoming possessed of muskets, brought him much "darkness of heart." But, as he meditated, his anxiety of mind was to some extent relieved by the arrival at Kawhia of the northern portion of the war party, the raising of which had previously been agreed upon. In accordance with this arrangement, Tuwhare, accompanied by Patuone, and his brother, that picturesque figure in Maori history, Tamati Waka Nene[38 - His home was on the banks of the Hokianga River, on the western side of the country, opposite to the Bay of Islands. He afterwards became a convert to the Wesleyan Mission, and received at his baptism the prefix "Thomas Walker" to his old Maori name of Nene, hence the name by which he is known in history – Tamati Waka Nene.] – whose influence and eloquence were subsequently to be so powerfully used to secure the acceptance by the natives of the Treaty of Waitangi – left Hokianga in November, 1819, and proceeding by a circuitous route which embraced the country of the Waitemata, reached the home of Te Rauparaha, and found there a force of four hundred men waiting to welcome them.

Accredited estimates give the strength of the combined contingents at fully one thousand men, and they were armed with a greater number of muskets than had ever previously been carried into the field by any Maori organisation. A further distinction was the presence of many leaders whose deeds were to be deeply imprinted upon the records of Maori history. Each tribal section was under chiefs who are acknowledged to have been amongst the classic warriors of their time; so that, in the matter of skilful direction and heroic example, the taua might consider itself more than usually fortunate. The primary purpose of the expedition appears to have been no more than a love of adventure and a desire to kill and eat a few of their enemies; but embraced within this scheme was a secondary motive, which involved the redress of a grievance which Te Puoho had acquired against the Whanganui people, whom he considered accountable for a slight put upon his daughter. The friendly relations which prevailed between Ngati-Toa and Ngati-Tama ensured the war party an uncontested passage through "the gate of Taranaki"; and, although Ngati-Awa assembled to oppose them, they were satisfied to desist, upon Te Rauparaha consenting to pay the tribute of ownership by requesting permission to pass through their territory.

The first important halt was made at Manu-korihi, on the north bank of the Waitara River, where a stay of some length was made for the purpose of finally determining the order of their plans. The Manu-korihi people became deeply interested in the muskets which the visitors had brought with them; and curious to observe their effect – at the expense of some one else – they persuaded Te Rauparaha and his friends to commence hostilities against the famous Puke-rangiora pa, whose inhabitants had been guilty of some cause of offence. The invitation to attack the great stronghold was accepted with alacrity; but when the war party presented themselves before the walls, they found it so strongly fortified and so keenly defended that discretion dictated a less valiant course, and so they passed Puke-rangiora, and went over the mountain track to Te Kerikeringa in search of a meaner enemy. This pa was a central point in the system of defence set up by Ngati-Maru, who had established populous settlements and made great clearings in the forest east of the present town of Stratford. Their great fighting chief was Tutahanga, who in former days had subdued the pride of both the Waikato and the Nga-Puhi. Now he was old, but his martial bearing was still such that, when the invaders inquired of their guides how they might distinguish him from those of inferior rank, they were told, "He is a star."

Graced by the red plumes of the tropic bird, the northerners moved up to the attack, but were met with so stout a resistance by the defenders, who had donned the white feathers of the sacred crane, that, in spite of their muskets, their combination broke, and they retired in disorder to the western slopes, where they were compelled to resort to the tactics of a regular siege. From these heights, which dominated the pa, they were occasionally able to shoot down an unwary defender who exposed himself to their fire; but they did not rely entirely upon this method of fighting to effect their conquest. Frequent assaults were made upon the gateway, in one of which they succeeded in shooting Tutahanga, and in another Patu-wairua, his successor in command. Before his death, Patu-wairua, persuaded that the pa could not hold out much longer, desired to make peace if possible; but his conciliatory views were overruled by the less diplomatic leaders of the tribe. Patu-wairua then sat down and sang a lament for his people, whose impending fate he deplored with all the affection of a father. In the next sally he was killed in the fore-front of the fighting line, bravely sustaining the unequal contest, in which the mere was matched against the musket.

With their two great leaders gone and many of their tribesmen dead, a feeling of depression settled down upon the garrison, whose position was daily growing less secure. But while they were sinking under the weariness begotten of incessant vigilance, a Maori-like episode occurred, in which the arts of the women were employed to do that in which the stalwart arms of the men had failed. As a last device, the Ngati-Maru generals hit upon the idea of sending all the young women of the pa into the camp of the invaders, to beguile the warriors with their charms, and so induce them temporarily to relax the severity of the siege. History does not record the fate of these maidens of Te Kerikeringa; but they deserve at least a certain immortality. For during the diversion thus caused the pa was silently evacuated, the survivors of the siege making their escape across the Waitara River along the Tara-mouku Valley, and through the dense forest which stretched for many miles into the heart of the island.

The tidings that Kerikeringa had fallen spread with such rapidity that, before the rejoicings of the victors had concluded, the tribes to the southward had succeeded in concealing themselves within their mountain fastnesses. Consequently we hear of no conflicts with Ngati-Ruanui or Nga-Rauru, as the victorious taua passed over the old forest track which leads out into the open country near the town of Normanby. This peaceful passage was not interrupted until they reached the Whanganui River, where they found the resident tribes drawn up in battle array to oppose them at the Turua pa. This pa was situated on the eastern bank of the river, a little above the present town of Whanganui; but, in reaching it, the northerners were faced with a serious initial difficulty, inasmuch as they had no canoes of their own, and Te Anaua, of Whanganui, had taken the precaution to remove his flotilla to the opposite shore. But the ingenuity of Tuwhare and Te Rauparaha was equal to an emergency of that kind. Ordering their men into the neighbouring swamps, they employed a month in cutting dry raupo leaves, out of which they constructed a mokihi fleet, and on these vegetable rafts the whole force was eventually transported across the wide and deep river. The capture of the pa was a work of no great difficulty; for here, as elsewhere, the muskets exercised their terrifying influence upon natives coming into contact with them for the first time.

Southward the march was once more directed, and skirmishes followed with Ngati-Apa in the Whangaehu and Rangitikei districts. No protracted fighting was possible where the panic-stricken inhabitants fled before the all-destroying guns. Across the Rangitikei the taua passed into the fertile district of the Manawatu, which since the traditional days of Whatonga had been the home of the Rangitane people. Of this hostile descent upon the coast the Rangitane people declare that they, secure in their mountain fortresses, heard nothing until the arrival of the war party at Otaki. Thither some of the children of Toki-poto, the chief at Hotuiti, near Awahou (Foxton), had gone on a visit to their friends; and there they met Te Rauparaha, who inquired of them the whereabouts of their people and the number and strength of their pas.

The patronising and fatherly demeanour which this warrior could assume[39 - The late Hon. J. W. Barnicoat, who knew Te Rauparaha well, has assured the writer that when it suited him the wily old chief could "lend a most angelic expression to his countenance."] when his ends were better served by the concealment of his true purpose completely won the confidence of the lads, and, in their innocence of the man, to whom they were confiding the secrets of the tribe, they readily told him all that he wished to know. When the desired information had been obtained some of Te Rauparaha's followers proposed, as a precautionary measure, that the children should be killed; but Te Rauparaha, more far-seeing than they, interposed, for he had not yet exhausted their usefulness. In the depths of his cunning he had conceived the idea of making the children of Toki-poto the instruments by which that chief should be delivered into Ngati-Toa's hands. Accordingly, he resisted the demand for their blood, saying, "No, let them alone, they are only children. Rather let us go and take Toki-poto out of the stern of the canoe." This was his expressive and figurative method of conveying to his warriors that he sought a more valuable trophy than the life of a child, and that he had resolved upon no less a scheme than the assault of the Hotuiti pa. To Mahuri, the eldest son of Toki-poto, he then turned, and in dulcet tones he said, "Go to your father, I will see him."

Accompanied by the Ngati-Toa warriors and their leader, the lad led the way to a small lake pa at Hotuiti, whither Toki-poto had gone with the major portion of his people from their main settlement on the banks of the Manawatu River. The pa itself was built on one of the many miniature islets which dot the face of the lake; and, while Te Rauparaha and his followers lurked in the bush which fringed the margin, he sent the unsuspecting Mahuri to tell his father that Te Rauparaha wished to talk with him. The first thought to arise in the mind of the Rangitane chief was one of suspicion, and he at once exclaimed, "No, I will not go. I shall be slain." But the boy, into whose good graces Te Rauparaha had completely ingratiated himself, ridiculed these fears, and urged his father to go. To these entreaties, and possibly to fears of retaliation if he did not comply, Toki-poto at last yielded, and, taking a few of his people with him, went in his canoe, unarmed, to welcome his visitor.

Scarcely had they reached the edge of the wood when they were set upon by the secreted warriors, and in the massacre which followed the chief and a number of his followers were killed, the remainder, with the exception of two, being taken prisoners. The two who escaped were Mahuri, the innocent cause of the disaster, and Te Aweawe, the father of the well-known family who still reside upon the Rangitane lands in the Manawatu. Side by side with Toki-poto, there fell that day another chief named Te Waraki, whose greenstone mere, a weapon famous in the annals of the tribe, was buried on the site of the massacre by the mourning people, and there it remained hidden for full sixty years, until it was discovered in 1882.

Strange to say, Te Rauparaha did not press the advantage gained by the removal of Hotuiti's chief by attacking the pa, but contented himself with carrying off his prisoners to Otaki, where he rejoined Waka Nene. Here the two chiefs rested for a time, pursuing vigilant inquiries into the number and disposition of the resident tribes. They visited for the first time the island stronghold of Kapiti, and found it in the possession of a section of the Ngati-Apa people, under the chieftainship of two men named Potau and Kotuku. The visit was made with a simulation of friendship, for the time was not ripe for an attack; and the northerners were satisfied for the moment with examining the strategical features of the island, and extorting from Potau and Kotuku a considerable quantity of the greenstone which they had accumulated during the course of their traffic with the Ngai-Tahu of the South Island.

Refreshed by their sojourn at Otaki, and considerably enlightened as to its military possibilities, the northern war party then pushed on southwards, fighting as they went, first at Wai-mapihi, a fortified pa, the remains of which are still to be seen not far from the Puke-rua railway station. The pa was captured, it is said, by treachery suggested by Te Rauparaha, and the Muaupoko, whose valour had defied the most desperate efforts of their assailants, were hunted in and through the bush by their fierce pursuers. Here, and at Porirua, a number of canoes fell into the hands of the invaders, some of whom now decided to vary the monotony of the land journey by the exhilaration of the sea route. This determination ended disastrously. Ignorant of the silent currents and treacherous tides of Cook Strait, the Nga-Puhi men of two canoes were swamped while taking the outer passage in rounding Sinclair Head, and fully one hundred of them were drowned. The remainder of the canoes, steering a course inside the reefs, escaped the danger of shipwreck, and reached Whanganui-a-Tara[40 - Now known as Wellington.] almost simultaneously with the party who had journeyed by land.

The country surrounding this great basin was then held by the Ngati-Ira, a sub-branch of the Ngati-Kahungunu tribe, whose possessions practically extended from Gisborne to Cape Palliser, on the eastern side of the North Island. They were a brave and numerous people, and when their pa at Pa-ranga-hau was attacked, they fought with a desperation which extorted admiration even from their enemies. Though considerable numbers of Ngati-Ira were killed in this conflict, Nga-Puhi did not escape scatheless; for one native account says: "Ngati-Ira charged them in the face of the flames of their muskets, and with their native weapons killed many Nga-Puhi." Hunger was now beginning to assert its inconvenience; and the war party were at this time compelled to live exclusively on the flesh of their slaves, of whom large numbers were killed, each chief undertaking successively to provide the necessary supply. Disease also attacked their camps, of which there were two; and some mysterious pestilence was responsible for the death of many warriors and several chiefs, whose heads were preserved and their bodies burned, to prevent them falling into the hands of the enemy. Scarcely had the stricken host recovered from the prevailing sickness than the Ngati-Ira swept down upon the bivouac at Te Aro in the dead of night, and, in the first shock of the surprise, inflicted sore loss upon the sleeping warriors. Thanks to their guns, the northerners were ultimately successful in beating off the attack, and immediately afterwards the pas which skirted the harbour were deserted by their inhabitants, who, reluctant to accept the responsibility of battle under such unequal conditions, beat a stealthy retreat into the Hutt Valley, whither the northern chiefs followed them, though their force was now only a remnant of what it had formerly been. They travelled by canoe up the river which waters the valley, and, as they went, the resident people, confident in their numbers, collected along the banks to jeer at them, and contemptuously invited them on shore to be eaten.