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Rifle and Tomahawk

Chapter XVIII — The Reward of Valour

page 238

Chapter XVIII
The Reward of Valour

In spite of the fact that Ropata and his gallant warriors had made good progress in the assault on Ngatapa, the mountain fortress was still in the hands of Te Kooti. The Hauhaus defended the pa ferociously, tirelessly. Once, indeed, they made an attempt to escape from the beleaguered fortress by way of the cliffs at the apex. They found Captain Barry and his Forest Rangers blocking that one possible exit. There was a short but terrible battle, with no quarter given on either side. To be shot anywhere along those precipices meant to fall hundreds of feet into the gullies below; wherefore each combatant was impelled to kill lest he himself might be killed. Eventually the Hauhaus were driven back into the pa, while the assault upon their fortifications on the plateau was renewed.

Ron had rejoined the Rangers after he had seen Isbel and Jock safely on their way back toward Turanganui. Isbel went with thanksgiving and delight at being able to turn her back upon that page 239gloomy fortress that had held her prisoner. How narrow had been her escape from death in the pa she never knew. Ron wisely had refrained from telling her of the frail thread upon which her fate had depended, for had Te Kapu been killed at the palisade before Hori had succeeded in obtaining the precious rope that had lowered her to the ledge her body might even now be lying at the foot of one of the great cliffs of Ngatapa.

So Isbel, having taken loving leave of her brother, went blithely toward home. Jock, on the other hand, went grumbling at his ill-luck. Not even the complimentary words that Colonel Whitmore had spoken, nor yet the mighty cheer of the Constabulary as they carried him shoulder-high out of camp, could requite him for the fact that he was about to miss any of the fighting. But he realized that without the use of his hands he would be of little value, so he obeyed orders and went, vowing that he would be back as soon as he could hold a gun.

And now the battle for Ngatapa went on in grim earnest. Colonel Whitmore would have attempted to storm the pa there and then, but for the prudent counsels of Ropata and Hotene. These two declared that they would not consent to the main assault being made until the time was page 240ripe, and Colonel Whitmore perforce gave way to their superior knowledge of Maori warfare. It is even possible that Hotene consulted the omens in connexion with the attack, but if he did so history does not record the fact.

The knell of doom for the beleaguered garrison was sounded when a party of Ngatiporou made a surprise attack on the right of the front line. Ropata already was in possession of the left of the trench, and was holding it valorously, despite several desperate attempts to evict him. It is told of him that during this time he was marvellous for his attention to duty and discipline, and for the manner in which he heartened up his warriors.

At dusk on January 4, the whole of Te Kooti's front line was in the hands of the attacking force. Colonel Whitmore determined to order the main assault.

There was rejoicing in the allied lines that night. At last Te Kooti was to be brought to judgment. The eagle that had swooped down on Poverty Bay, killing all who fell beneath the shadow of his wings, was securely prisoned in his eyrie. Escape for him would seem impossible. By dawn, the men told each other, he would be a captive.

But they reckoned without the resource and cunning of the rebel chief. The morning saw the page 241fall of Ngatapa, it is true; but the eagle was flown. Only then Ron realized what Hori had meant when he had said that the ropes were needed elsewhere. The Hauhaus had had them in readiness for escape. All through the night while pakehas and friendly Maoris rejoiced in the thought that Te Kooti would be their prisoner on the morrow, the Hauhaus had been escaping, lowering themselves down a cliff on the side of the pa opposite to that on which was the precipice down which Ron and Isbel had escaped.

And now Te Kooti was gone into the Urewera country again, fled to the hidden valleys and wild peaks of that formidable land. Had he had adequate provisions and a sure water-supply he might have defended Ngatapa for many months. As it was, he took with him a half-starved, weary band, who were to be hunted from crag to crag while they lived on berries, fern-root—anything they could forage.

The eagle had yielded up his eyrie, but his talons had not yet been drawn. Now he swooped down upon this settlement, now on that; and always he left behind him two or three victims, treacherously massacred.

Column after column went out after him. Now page 242Colonel Whitmore with Armed Constabulary was in hot pursuit, now it was Henare Tomoana who took a taua against him. The pursuers often came up with him, but always, although it is recorded that he never won in pitched battle, the rebel chief eluded his pursuers, and was next heard of miles away from the place in which they were searching for him.

And now he was at Taupo, seeking the support of King Tawhaio, Te Heu Heu, and Rewi Maniapoto. The country anxiously awaited Tawhaio's decision, and breathed the more freely when it became known that Tawhaio would lend Te Kooti no aid, had, in fact, forbidden him the King country. Te Heu Heu likewise decided against him; but Rewi Maniapoto, he who had flung the undying defiance of the Maori in the face of the pakeha at the battle of Orakau—"We will fight on for ever and ever!"—turbulent Rewi of the Maniapoto followed him, smarting still under the loss of his lands.

However, Rewi, good fighter that he was, could not join cause with Te Kooti for long. It was the battle at Rotorua, when Te Kooti was defeated by Major Mair, that caused Rewi to take his men home again in disgust. In this fight fell the notorious half-caste bugler, Baker McLean.

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At first the pursuit of the rebels was almost wholly conducted by the Constabulary and other Imperial troops. But the Maori wars were very distasteful to these men. Most of the regiments had come either from the Crimean War or the Indian Mutiny, and they were disgusted with the guerrilla bush-fighting of New Zealand. As they had not suffered by the rebellion they had nothing to avenge. They had had no hard-earned property destroyed, no homes broken up, no wives nor children slaughtered. Consequently they looked upon the Hauhaus as foemen unworthy of their steel. This feeling led to the withdrawal of the Imperial forces.

Then it was that the New Zealand Government fought the natives with New Zealanders—volunteers and friendly Maoris. And then it was that Ronald Cameron had his desire; he accompanied Captain Barry and a few picked men of the Rangers—Jock Abler among them—in their march across the Urewera country. Ron found out what lay beyond the wild mountains. The Rangers were attached to Ropata's column, and they saw the lion of the Ngatiporou make a name for himself that will live for ever in New Zealand history.

Ropata was fearless. On one occasion he and page 244his men of the Ngatiporou were advancing up the bed of a creek exposed to a very harassing fire. The warriors became panic-stricken and showed a tendency to retreat. But Ropata, bent on his purpose, resolutely advanced, and, taking a stick, thrashed all those who felt inclined to run away. Again, he at one time actually took possession of the whole of the Urewera country. He was surrounded by rebellious tribes, sympathizers with Te Kooti. They asked him to retire, promising not to molest him. The odds were fearfully against him.

"As I have gone so far I will go right through the country!" replied the man of iron.

The little column was hotly pursued by the angry tribes. Ron knew what it was to be hungry, for their food was of the scantiest description. They were half freezing, too, when the snow fell, and they had to push their way through the wild lands with their clothing in tatters and their boots falling from their feet. But though they were often suffering great hardship, even though they had to go hungry, and were compelled to undergo privation, Ron gloried in the life. Over the camp-fires they built at night, whenever they dared, there hung the spirit of romance and of adventure. With the firelight striking bronze page 245gleams on his face Ropata would raise his voice in Maori songs, the waiata of some great ancestor, and as he sang he would lift up the hearts of all who heard him, until they were ready to dare anything.

Te Kooti still eluded them. They hunted for him, killed many of his followers, captured his stores, and found the ammunition he concealed in the fastnesses of the bush. But they could not cage the eagle, flying from crag to crag in that savage country. They had to console themselves with the capture of one of his most terrible followers.

A mountain tribe had been sheltering Kereopa the Eye-eater. Ropata insisted that they should deliver him up. The tribe laughed at him.

"Very well," said Ropata, "I will come and build a great pa in the midst of your country!"

The tribe trembled. They knew Ropata, knew that he would keep his word. They gave up Kereopa. The missionary-slayer was taken to Napier, where he killed himself, knowing that he would surely be hanged.

Ron often thought wistfully of Hori. He would have given much to hear that well-remembered weka-call; but since that last morning on Ngatapa cliff he had heard nothing of the friend to whom he owed so much. Nevertheless, he felt sure that page 246Hori still lived. He would cast his eyes longingly over the interminable stretches of forest, wondering where Hori was, and what he was doing.

"Some day," he said to himself confidently, "somewhere I shall meet Hori again. Some time, when his dream comes true, he and I will work together for the greater friendship of Maori and pakeha."

Renata too had been in pursuit of Te Kooti. He too had covered himself with glory. His performances would make a story of themselves, but this tale may deal only with his last exploit.

At Taupo his men encountered stiff hand-to-hand fighting with the Hauhaus. Being well in front, and having been separated from his own people, Renata found himself attacked by a powerful Hauhau. It became a trial of personal strength, each endeavouring to disarm the other.

While they struggled on the ground the Hauhau's wife, like an enraged tigress, sprang upon Renata and gouged out his right eye with her sharp talons. She would have had the other eye also, but Renata, whose hands were engaged with the Hauhau under his knees, seized the woman's fingers between his teeth, and, biting them to the bone, held her firmly as in a vice. Even so, page 247matters would have gone badly with the gallant chief, had not a Ngatiporou warrior come up and shot the Hauhau.

Renata was taken to camp in an unconscious state. The woman who had maimed him was held prisoner. Only the presence of one or two Europeans saved her, for Renata's men would have killed her outright.

Presently Renata recovered. "E!" he sighed. "Te Kooti has taken my sight. See that you do not harm the woman, men of Renata's taua!"

So Renata kept his vow.

And now even the tribes who had supported Te Kooti with their sympathy, if not with offers of fighting-men, were spurning him. Hemmed in on all sides, with but twenty followers left, he dragged out a miserable existence in the Urewera country. He was broken. It was needless to pursue him farther.

Ronald Cameron came back from his campaigning a man in everything but years. The keen air of the mountain-passes had filled him out. He was bronzed, strong as a young lion, and wore an air of quiet self-reliance that promised him a splendid manhood.

Mrs Cameron laughed and cried alternately as page 248she embraced her wonderful son. Isbel cried over him too, and only let go of his hand when somebody shrieked out that Hughie was falling into the creek. At that she rushed forth wildly, and brought Hughie back to the house, struggling and kicking while she attempted to smack him.

Ron looked round the new house with deep content.

"You don't know how good it is to be home again, and to have everything the same," he exclaimed. "Nothing seems altered. I see that Miss Muffet still bosses everybody about!"

For Isbel, having set Hughie in a corner, was bidding them all to tea; and they sat down to a meal that tasted like a banquet to Ron, accustomed as he had grown to the rough, scanty food on the campaign.

The household was astir early next morning; and just after sunrise they set forth for Turanganui. Ron was filled with pride, but Isbel was curiously silent. She had reason enough for thought, for this was the day on which the Governor himself was to pin on her breast the decoration which the Queen was conferring on her for her bravery during the dark days after the Turanganui massacre.

"I'll never be able to stand up before all the page 249people, Mother," she whispered to Mrs Cameron. Her mother, with a heart overflowing with joy, patted her hand lovingly. Isbel managed to conquer her shyness, though her heart beat fast and her knees trembled. For Hughie, seeing his beloved Bel standing by herself out in the midst of a great ring of people, toddled after her. He came, tugging at her skirt at the very moment when the Governor bent down to pin on the medal; and Isbel turned and snatched him up in her arms and buried her face on his little curly head.

The people cheered her then; and they laughed a little, but their laughter was very near to tears.

"I said that Isbel would make the Camerons famous!" whispered Ron to his father. "Good old Miss Muffet!"

Then suddenly he stiffened, and his face went scarlet. What was the Governor saying?

"I have to confer the New Zealand War Cross on Ronald Cameron, for conspicuous bravery…."

There was more of it, a short recital of his deeds at Ngatapa, of his courage and endurance on the campaign in the Urewera. Then, as one in a dream, he went forward to receive the coveted decoration. He felt himself shaking hands with the Governor, and amid the cheering that followed, he found page 250himself walking back to his parents, to meet the outstretched hand of Jock.

"And the youngest that's ever had the New Zealand Cross!" cried Jock triumphantly. "Ron, lad, I always thought you would get it!"

There were several others decorated that day. Honours for Renata. A sword of honour, and the New Zealand Cross for Ropata, for both of whom Ron cheered until he was hoarse.

And then there was a splendid luncheon, provided by the good people of Turanganui, who could not make enough of the boy and the girl, whose exploits had for many months been the talk of the district.

Ron found himself explaining to a distinguished-looking man, a guest, he presumed, of the Governor, that he did not really deserve the honour that had been paid him.

"I really did nothing," he said. "It was Jock and—some one else. Some day everything will be known, and then you will see that I am telling the truth. Jock Abler could tell you if he would——"

"Did you say Jock Abler?" asked the man, a curious excitement in his voice.

"Yes, my chum, Jock Abler. That big man who is talking to my sister." Ron pointed him out. The man looked keenly at Jock, then left page 251Ron abruptly, and hastened toward the bushman. Ron followed, sensing that something strange was about to happen.

"John!" said the stranger, pausing by Jock.

Jock wheeled round. "Duncan!" he exclaimed. "What do you here? It is a far way from Castle MacBean!"

"A far way, as you say, John," answered the man steadily. "But not too far to look for my only brother, and to tell him that his name is cleared at last!"

Jock seemed to stagger. Then he sat down, as though the news had been too much for him.

Presently he said: "I have grown old, and am rough in my ways, Duncan."

"The door of Castle MacBean stands open, John," replied the other. "I have spent three years searching for you, in strange lands."

"I have grown too rough!" muttered Jock again.

"The Iaird of MacBean may do as he will," answered his brother. "Will you not come back to the old place, John?"

And after some more talk Jock promised.

There were speeches after lunch. To his horror, Ron was asked to say a few words. At first he sat wondering what on earth he could find to say. Then suddenly an idea occurred to him. It took page breakhold of him, and he felt that here and now, indeed, was the opportunity to make some repayment to Hori. So he rose, and spoke of the relation of Maori and pakeha.

"Some people will say," he said in conclusion, "that the Hauhaus are all bad. My friends, this is not so. I have fought them, and they have hunted me and mine. But I know that among them there are good men, who only need encouragement to become loyal subjects of the Queen. What would you say if I were to tell you that I know of one man who joined Te Kooti because his tribe were Te Kooti's allies, who fought with them, and was hunted with them, because he knew that by so doing he would one day be a leader among them, and so bring them into pakeha ways of living? I know of such a Maori. He has done so much for the pakehas that it is he that should be wearing this medal and not myself. I ask you to drink to the health of that Maori, and to join with me in praying that the day is not far distant when he will be permitted to come back to his own lands, and to realize the dream for which he has suffered!"

And the company rose and drank the health of Hori te Whiti.