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Holmwood;or, The New Zealand Settler. Chapter I.

“Well, you are a curious looking chap, I do think.” These words were said by an English lad, Peter Downes, who had, a short time before, arrived with his master, Major Parry, in that fine colony of Great Britain called New Zealand.

Peter had wandered one evening farther from his new home than he had yet ventured, with his fishing-rod in his hand, in the hopes of catching some fish for the family, in a fine stream which ran past the property the major had just bought. He found himself close to the borders of a forest. The trees were larger than he had ever seen before; some of them thirty feet in girth, rising forty feet and more, before a branch was to be seen. Near them were monster ferns, in shape like the palm-trees growing in the hot countries under the sun. Some of these trees had dark green leaves, shining like the laurel; others were of a lighter tint; and some bore blossoms in clusters, of a deep red colour, in form like the English honey-suckle, climbing up the loftiest trees, twisting round the branches and twining round each other, so as to page 4 form a complete net-work, which hung down in all shapes of festoons and wreaths. It was a wild scene, very unlike any that Peter had seen in the old country; and wilder and stranger still in appearance, was the person whom he had just addressed. He was a tall man, of a dark brown colour; his face and every part of his body to be seen, marked all over in curious lines and circles and other devices, of a blue tint. His long black hair was turned up off his forehead and tied behind, and ornamented besides with a crown of feathers. Around him was wrapped a cloak of a sort of cloth, ornamented with feathers and beads.

Peter, who was a brave fellow, looked at the savage for some time, expecting an answer, and the savage looked at Peter without speaking.

“Well, and what do you want with me?” said Peter at last. “Stop, I have got a bite; a big fish too; if I don't play him carefully, he'll be off.”

The savage looked on calmly, till Peter drew a fine large trout toward the shore, when he stepped down the bank and helped him to get it up with the landing net.

“You friend?” asked the savage, in a tone which showed that he asked a question.

“Yes, I hope so,” answered Peter, looking at him to satisfy himself that he could be a friend of so strange-looking a being.

The native nodded his head, as much as to say, “That matter is understood between us, then.” He then produced a huge eel, three pounds weight at page 5 least, from under his cloak. He had just caught it, probably, in the stream higher up.

“You take—good eat,” he said, offering it to Peter. “Me—go—you.”

“If you like,” answered Peter, understanding that the native wished to accompany him home. “Master will be pleased to see you, as he was only saying last night, that though we had been on our new location a week, none of the natives had come near us, and wondered why it was.”

The native seemed to understand the meaning of what he said, and pointing in the direction of the farm, made a sign to him that he wished to go there at once.

“Stop a bit, till I have done up my tackle,” said Peter, winding his reel and taking his rod to pieces, and hanging his basket, which was pretty heavily laden with fish, over his shoulders. “Now I am ready; it's a long mile, or may be two, from this.”

Peter set off, following the course of the stream, but he had not gone far, when the native made signs that he could show him a much shorter way.

“To be sure; you know more of the country than I do,” said Peter, “so I'll go the way you say is the best.”

The native seemed pleased at the confidence Peter placed in him. He now got over the ground so quickly, that Peter had to move his legs at a very rapid rate to keep up with him.

It was a lovely evening; the air was warm, but bright and pure; the sky without a cloud. Birds of page 6 gay plumage were flying about from tree to tree, many of them singing sweetly and cheerfully, though perhaps not equalling the music to be heard in an English grove in early spring, when each feathered warbler seems to be trying to surpass his companion in the richness of his notes. Peter, though a country lad, was not a lout, and could well enjoy the scene. He and the native did not talk much as they walked along, for the best of reasons, that they did not understand, beyond a word or two, what each other said, unless their conversation was helped out by signs, which it could not very well be at the rate at which they were going. At last they came to the brow of a hill, from which, in the plain below, could be seen a small plank cottage, a couple of huts built of boughs, a tilted wagon, a dray, and two other carts, placed somewhat in a circle, so as to leave an open space in the middle. There were three horses tethered near, while several horned cattle and a small flock of sheep were grazing on the rich natural pasture around. Several people were working away at the cottage, which seemed still in an unfinished state, while some females were busy round a fire, which was burning brightly in the centre of the circle.

“That is where we are going to live, and a pretty spot it is, and very good soil too,” said Peter, pointing towards the cottage.

As Peter and the native were seen approaching, three fine-looking boys and a little girl ran out to meet them.

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“Well Peter, have you caught many fish?” exclaimed the eldest of the boys, casting, at the same time, an inquiring glance at the native.

“Enough for supper for all hands and breakfast to-morrow morning, Master Harry; and this queer gentleman here, gave me a big eel, which will make pretty near dinner enough for us all, too,” answered Peter, pointing to the native. The latter took this for an introduction and stepped forward, just as Major Parry, with a hammer in his hand, came from behind the cottage, at which he had been at work.

“I am glad to see you, my friend,” said the Major, frankly putting out his hand.

“Yes, berry,” answered the native, who took the Major's hand, though he had at first shown an inclination to rub noses, a mode of greeting each other usual among the New Zealanders.

“Come in and sit down; we shall have some supper ready soon, and you will take some I hope.” The native nodded and went with the Major into the circle, where he was introduced to Mrs. Parry and her two daughters. Emily, who was grown up, and little Julia. There was an old nurse also, Mrs. Ann Perkins, who had accompanied the family for love of them, though she might have lived in comfort at home; and a youngish girl, Jane Green, who had come as a servant of all work, as a good servant will make up her mind to be in a colony. There were two men still at work on the house, One was a fine tall old man, as upright as a poplar, his hair just sprinkled over with grey; he was Thomas page 8 Allan, once a corporal in the gallant — regiment of foot, the major's old regiment. We will give his history by-and-by. It did not require two looks to see that the other man was a native of Ireland. His grey coat and breeches, his battered hat, his turn-up nose, and twinkling eyes, and short pipe, his beloved dhudeen, scarcely ever from his lips, whether alight or not. Tim Grogan had spent probably nearly a third of all the money he had ever made in his life in buying tobacco to turn into smoke.

While the three boys, Harry, David, and Freddy, carried the fish, and taking them out, placed them before their mother and nurse Perkins, the major begged the chief to take his seat before a table-cloth which was spread picnic fashion on the grass. He offered him a box as a seat of honour, but the chief preferred squatting down on the ground in native fashion, with his knees raised towards his chin. The fish was soon cooked by Nurse Perkins, and all the party then assembled round the cloth to take their evening meal. Allan, Downes, and Grogan, in respect for their master, sitting a little apart, while Jane Green handed them their food. I rather think that Peter Downes came in for the best share from her hands; no wonder! Peter was an honest, industrious lad, and there wasn't any right thing in the world he wouldn't do to please Jane. The native behaved very well, and watched the major and his family, that he might do in all things as they did, in the way of conveying the food to his mouth; indeed his manners were quite those of a gentleman. He bent his head page 9 reverentially when the major said grace after supper, and not till then did he make an attempt to explain the reason of his visit to the settlement. It was not without difficulty that the major made out what he wanted. By dint however of signs and a few words, he let it be understood that he was the chief of a small tribe; that the rest had been destroyed by their enemies; that he lived at a pah, a fortified village, on the top of a hill, about six miles off, that his wife and his sons were dead, and that he had an only daughter, whom he loved dearly, and who was now very ill—so ill that he feared she would die. He knew that the white men, especially the chiefs, were often able to cure disease, and that he had therefore come to entreat the new settler, the major, to visit his pah, and to try and cure his daughter. The major considered before he answered. The only medical man in the district lived many miles off, and most probably would not be able to come if sent for. [sic: ] If he himself went, he might be of some service to the sick girl. He had brought a medicine chest, and having had a good deal of experience, he knew well how to make use of it.

“I will go with you, my friend,” he said at length. “But know that I cannot cure your daughter. To cure sickness is in the power of God alone; I will give such medicine as I believe will be of service to her.”

The native, it seemed, understood more English than he could speak, for, as the major addressed him, an expression of thankfulness came over his countenance, and he warmly shook the major's page 10 hand. The ladies, with nurse Perkins and Jane, had already taken possession of the new cottage at night, as, even in its unfinished state, it was more comfortable than the wagon, which the major and the boys still occupied, or than the huts. One of the huts was offered as a lodging to the native for the night, and he gladly accepted it, evidently much pleased with the attention shown him. As soon as it became dark, and no more work could be done, Major Parry collected all the party, and read a chapter in the Bible, which he explained to them; he then offered up prayer, and a hymn having been sung, with spirits calmed and refreshed, the family and their servants retired to their respective sleeping-places. If all families who call themselves Christians would follow the example of Major Parry, how much happier and more like real Christians would they be.

While the family and their wild-looking guest are asleep, I will give a further account of them, and of the country which they had made their home. Major Parry had been for many years in the army, the greater part of which time he had served abroad, and had been engaged in numerous battles. When between forty and fifty, in consequence of the failure of a bank in which his property was placed, he was left with his pay only to support his numerous family. Should he die, that would be lost, and except the pension which his widow would obtain, there would be nothing on which they could live. He therefore made up his mind to leave the army, and with the money which he would receive for his page 11 commission, to settle with his family in a British colony. All his servants wished to accompany him, but he could take but three. Nurse Perkins, however, insisted on paying her own passage, and he was therefore able to take Peter Downes, greatly to the young man's joy, for he loved his master and mistress and their children, and he also was very unhappy at the thought of being separated from Jane Green. The idea also, that she might not again see Peter Downes, had made Jane very sad; indeed it was the only thing that caused her any sorrow at leaving England. When the major, as a lad, first joined his regiment, Thomas Allan was a soldier in it, and not long after he became the young ensign's servant. In many a battle they fought side by side, and where his master led, there Thomas Allan was sure to follow. At length a shot brought Allan to the ground. The enemy were coming on in great numbers, killing all the wounded they found. The English were forced to give way till their reserves could be brought up, but Lieutenant Parry calling his men around him, held them in check, and then, when compelled to retire, took Allan up on his back, and retreated slowly with him. On another occasion, some years afterwards, Allan crossed an open space before a besieged town, under the walls of which his captain lay wounded, and brought him through a tremendous fire unhurt. These and many other acts of mutual service had bound the master and his servant together in the-closest bonds of friendship, and the major well knew, page 12 that should he die, as long as Allan lived his family would have a staunch friend and protector. When, therefore, the major told Allan that he thought of going to New Zealand, the answer was, “Yes, major; I think that it is the best thing that we can do. There's work out in those countries, I've heard say, for young and old, gentle and simple; and thank Heaven, there'll be something to be got out of my arms for ten years to come or more.” There was not a doubt uttered about his going, indeed, the major well knew that nothing would stop him.

Mrs. Parry had not been so certain about Nurse Perkins being willing to share their fortunes, and proposed her leaving them.

“What, dear marm! leave you! I who have lived with you ever since you were a little child, and who have never since then put a morsel of bread into my mouth which was not given me by your family ! No, no!” she answered, ready to burst into tears. “If you were going away to some fine place where I might be in your way, and could be of no more service to you, it might be a different matter.”

Mrs. Parry, therefore, with a thankful heart, agreed that Nurse Perkins should accompany them. Jane and Peter were very glad out of several applicants to be selected. They were young and strong, and Major and Mrs. Parry had no doubt about their doing well. They might have suspected that they would be happier together than apart. Tim Grogan only joined the party when they landed in New Zealand. The major found him wandering page 13 about, without anything to do. He recollected him as a well-behaved young soldier in his regiment, but Tim didn't keep out of the grog-shop—I will not say that he could not. He fell ill in consequence of his bad habits, and was discharged from the army. At last, with the help of some charitable people, he found his way out to New Zealand. He had, however, been brought up to no trade, and as he had not a very good account to give of himself, he could get no employment. The major spoke to Allan about him.

“I always thought him an obedient, civil, honest, obliging fellow. He was a smart soldier, much liked by his comrades, and he hadn't a fault about him till he took to drinking,” answered Allan.

“Then I will engage him, if he will promise to give up the drink while he is with us,” said the major. “That will show him how easy it is to give it up altogether.” So Tim was engaged, and neither he nor his employer had hitherto any cause to complain of the arrangement.

Such was the party who had just taken up their abode on the property purchased by Major Parry.

New Zealand, the country in which they had come to settle, is one of the finest of England's colonies. It consists of three islands in a line, making indeed, one long thin island, divided by two narrow straits. It is about a thousand miles south-east of Australia. The northern island in which the Parry family settled is the most thickly inhabited by natives, but the English living in the three islands, page 14 already far outnumber the natives. When visited by Captain Cook, just a hundred years ago, the natives were very numerous, and were among the fiercest and most warlike of any of the people of the Pacific Ocean. They were also fearful cannibals, and made a practice of eating up all the enemies they took in war. These habits they continued for many years, till one half had killed the other half, when missionaries went among them with the principles of Christianity. Many became sincere Christians, a large number only called themselves so (as a large number of people in civilized countries call themselves Christians, though they do not deserve the name), while a good many tribes remained heathens. They still fought among each other, and have several times attacked the English, and from the hilly nature of the country, thick forests and fortified posts, or pahs, they caused a great deal of trouble, and month after month, managed to keep the English troops in check. In 1838, the country was taken regular possession of by the English, the natives agreeing to become subjects of the Queen of Great Britain. They have since then, however, often rebelled, but most of their warlike chiefs having died, and roads having been made into the interior, there is every reason to hope that they will remain on friendly terms with their fellow-subjects the English settlers. The native men are strongly built, tall and powerful, with intelligent features and well-formed heads. They are darker than gipsies, and were in the habit of marking their skins with all sorts page 15 of devices in lines, called tattooing. As, however, they become civilized and adopt the habits of the English, they give up this custom.

So much attention has been paid to the education of the children, that by far the larger number of young people can both read and write. They adapt themselves very readily to the habits of civilized life. Many own grist mills, others coasting-vessels, both captain and crew being natives; some keep inns, and being sober men, make good and obliging hosts. The son of one of the fiercest chiefs, kept the best-conducted country inn in the colony. They make good axemen, and readily engage in agricultural pursuits. Still, though they are intelligent, sober, and industrious, they are rapidly decreasing in numbers.

New Zealand is a very fine and beautiful country. It has high mountains, on the top of which the snow rests; wild hills, forests, lakes, rivers, and streams; fertile valleys and upland plains, on which sheep in great numbers are pastured. In the northern island the climate is warmer than that of England in summer, and never so cold, though strong winds occasionally blow. In the middle island the climate is more like that of England, though on the whole superior to it; while in the small south island it is rather damper, and more subject to stormy winds. The soil is generally good in every direction, and being well watered is very fertile. There are English settlements in all parts. In the northern island there is first, Auckland the capital, on the north-eastern shore; then Wellington, on the south shore, page 16 which forms the north side of Cook's Straits, and lastly, New Plymouth, a fertile district, though without a harbour, on the west coast. In the middle island there is Nelson, on the north, that is on the south side of Cook's Strait; the Canterbury settlement on the east coast, with Christchurch the capital; and farther south, on the same side, Otago, with Dunedin the capital. The Canterbury settlement was founded by Church of England people, who expected that only Church of England people would go there; while Otago was founded by Scotch Presbyterians, with much the same idea. In both settlements, however, there are people of all denominations, who have their respective churches and chapels. Both the north and middle island have fine pastures both for sheep and cattle. In the southern island, which is small, the settlers are chiefly engaged in the whale and seal fisheries. It must be remembered that New Zealand is in the southern half of the globe; that is to say, directly on the opposite side to England, so that the south, which is towards the south pole, is the coldest part. Major Parry and his family had gone to the southern part of the northern island, between Wellington and New Plymouth