Waihoura, the Maori Girl
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“You ought to have been a man, and you would have made a first-rate soldier,” exclaimed Harry, delighted at Lucy’s idea. “It is the wisest thing that could be done; I’ll tell everybody you thought of it, and I am sure they will be ready to help us.”
“But perhaps they will think that the whole place is to be attacked, and if so, the men will not be willing to leave their own homes and families,” observed Lucy.
“Oh, but I am sure the Maori intended to warn us especially, for he pointed to our hill while he was speaking,” said Harry. “Then he mentioned Hemipo, who probably has a spite against us for rescuing Waihoura from him. However, there’s no time to be lost. I’ll tell the men to cut the wood for the bonfire, and go on to let Mr Osburn and our other friends know about the matter.”
Having charged Lucy and Betsy to close the doors and windows, and not to go out of the house, he went to tell the other people. The farmer was out, but he told Mrs Greening what he had heard.
“Oh, it would be terrible if any harm was to happen to Miss Lucy, and the Squire and Master Val away,” exclaimed the good woman; “I’d sooner our place were all burned down than that – I’ll go round to her and persuade her to come here – then, if the savages go to your house they will not find her, and if they come here, the farmer and Tobias, I’ll warrant, will fight for her as long as they have got a bullet or a charge of powder remaining.”
Harry warmly thanked Mrs Greening for her generous intentions, though he doubted very much whether Lucy would consent to leave the house. He then hurried on to the village.
Mr Spears, at whose house he first called, was thrown into a great state of agitation on hearing of his apprehensions.
“I’ll go round and tell all the other people, and we will see what can be done,” he exclaimed, getting down his musket. “We will fight bravely for our homes and hearths; but dear me, I wish all the people who are away would come back. These savages are terrible fellows, and if they were to come suddenly upon us at night, as you fancy they will, we may find ourselves in a very unpleasant predicament.”
While Mr Spears went off in one direction, Harry continued on to the house of their friend Mr Osburn, which was at no great distance. He, though expressing a hope that the stranger had been amusing himself at Harry’s expense, undertook to collect the rest of the neighbours, and to make preparations to go to his assistance should the signal-fire give them notice that the house had been attacked.
“I would offer at once to go up and assist in guarding you,” he said. “But I am afraid that our other friends will not be willing to leave their own cottages undefended; indeed, I think we shall more effectually assist you by following the plan you propose. Still, I would advise you not to be over anxious about the matter, though you will do wisely to take the precautions you propose.”
Harry, feeling somewhat proud of himself, and tolerably well satisfied with the arrangements he had made, returned home. He found the farmer and Mr Greening at the house. They had in vain attempted to persuade Lucy to pass the night at their house – she would not leave Harry, who said that, as he had charge of the place, nothing would induce him to desert his post, and they hoped, with the precautions taken, they might escape the threatened danger.
“Depend upon it, if the savages really come and find us prepared they will not venture to attack the house,” said Harry.
“Well, well, I like your spirit, Master Harry,” said the farmer. “I’ll be on the watch, and if I hear the sound of a musket I shall know what it means, and will be quickly round with my four natives.”
At length the farmer and Mrs Greening took their departure. Harry had spoken to the native servants, who seemed fully to understand what was expected of them, and promised to be vigilant. Betsy had undertaken to keep a lantern burning, and to run out at the back-door at the first signal of danger, and light the bonfire. Harry tried to persuade Lucy to go to bed.
“Of course I shall sit up myself and keep watch for anything that happens,” he said; “and if you fall asleep, Lucy, I’ll awaken you if necessary.”
After commending themselves to the care of God, and reading together, as usual, a chapter in the Bible, the two young people sat down with their books before them to wait the issue of events, Harry, however, every now and then got up and ran to the door to listen, fancying he heard some sounds in the distance. Hour after hour passed by, and neither foe nor friend appeared. The night seemed very long, but at length the morning light streamed through the openings above the shutters. Harry opened the door, the air was pure and fresh, and the scene before him appeared so calm and peaceful, that he felt much inclined to laugh at his own fears. The native servants, who had been on the watch, came in also, and declared that they had seen no one, nor heard the slightest sound during the night to alarm them. In a short time farmer Greening arrived, and expressed his satisfaction at finding that they had had no cause for alarm.
“Perhaps after all, Master Harry, the man was only passing a joke on you, though it was as well to be on the safe side, and to be prepared.”
Lucy had several visitors during the day, who appeared much inclined to consider they had been unnecessarily alarmed.
“We may or may not have been,” observed Harry, “but I intend to keep the same look out tonight as before.”
The second night passed over like the former, and Harry himself now owned that unless the stranger purposely intended to deceive him, he must have misunderstood his meaning.
The evening came on, the cows had been milked, the pigs and poultry fed, and other duties attended to. They were in their sitting-room reading, when Betsy came in and announced Mr Spears.
“I hope I don’t intrude, Miss Lucy,” he said, putting his head in at the doorway in his usual half-hesitating manner, “but I could not shut up my house for the night without coming to inquire how you are getting on. Well, Master Harry, the Maoris who were to attack us have turned out to be phantoms after all, pleasanter foes to fight with than real savages. However, you behaved very well, my young friend, and I hope you will get a quiet night’s rest, and sleep free from alarm.”
“Thank you for your kind wishes,” answered Lucy, “but still I hope that you and our other friends will be on the watch, for I cannot feel altogether secure till our father and brother return.”
“Never fear, Miss Lucy, we will be ready if your phantom foes come. Pardon me, Master Harry, for calling them phantom foes, but such they are, I suspect. Ah! ah! ah!” and Mr Spears laughed at his own conceit. As Lucy did not wish to encourage the little man, she did not invite him to sit down, and, somewhat to her relief, he soon went away.
Mr Spears had reached home, and was shutting up his cottage, when, looking towards the hill, he saw the beacon fire blazing up. He rushed back for his musket, and began to load it in great haste; but in vain he pulled the trigger, it would not go off – no wonder, for he had forgotten to put on a cap. Not discovering this, having knocked at the doors of his immediate neighbours, and told them that the settlement was attacked, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him to Mr Osburn. Though that gentleman turned out immediately, it was sometime before he could collect the rest of the inhabitants, when some with firearms, and others with pitchforks, or any weapons they could lay hands on, rushed up the hill towards Mr Pemberton’s farm. They were joined on the way by farmer Greening and Tobias. All round the house seemed quiet, and not a sign of a Maori could be discovered.
“There’s been some trick played,” said farmer Greening, “for all my servants went off this evening, and I should not be surprised that Mr Pemberton’s have done the same; but I hope Master Harry has kept the door shut, and not let the enemy inside.”
As may be supposed, on reaching the house, their consternation and grief was very great when they discovered that the inmates had gone; and from the overturned chairs, and the back and front doors being open, their alarm for the safety of their young friends was greatly increased.
“The savages have undoubtedly come and carried them off, but we may yet be in time to overtake them, if we can ascertain in what direction they have gone,” said Mr Osburn.
“See, the orchard gate is open,” said farmer Greening. “They must have gone this way, by the path which leads to the river.” They went on a little farther, when Tobias picked up a handkerchief.
“That must be Miss Lucy’s,” he exclaimed, “and probably dropped on purpose,” observed Mr Osburn.
On reaching the river, no signs, however, of the savages nor their captives were to be seen; and though they hurried along the bank for some distance, they were at length compelled to return, in a state of increased anxiety for their young friends, to the settlement.
Chapter Nine.
The Rescue
Lucy and Harry carried off by Hemipo, who takes them to his pah. – Lucy explains the truth to a native girl who attends her. – Waihoura appears, and assists them to escape. – Encounter Hemipo, who is conquered by Rahana. – Hemipo allowed to go free. – Happy return to Riverside with Waihoura and her party. – Great rejoicings. – Hemipo becomes a Christian. – Waihoura marries Rahana, and the settlement flourishesLucy and Harry were spending their evening, as was their usual custom, Harry reading aloud while his sister sat by his side working.
Mr Spears had not long gone away, when a slight knock was heard at the door.
“I do believe it must be that Mr Spears come back again,” observed Betsy, getting up to open it. As she did so, what was her horror to see the figure of a tall Maori warrior, his face painted red, with his merai or axe in his hand.
“Run, Miss Lucy! run, Master Harry, and hide yourselves!” she exclaimed, attempting to push back the door. Her efforts were vain, the savage dashed it open and stalked in, followed by a dozen or more Maoris.
“Light the bonfire!” exclaimed Lucy, – and Betsy, springing by her, made her escape at the back-door. Harry tried to drag off Lucy in the same direction, but they were both instantly seized by the Maoris, two of whom sprang after Betsy. Scarcely a word was spoken by any of the natives, and Lucy had been too much agitated and alarmed to shriek out. The leader, in whom, by his sinister features and fierce looks, Lucy recognised Hemipo, had raised his weapon as if to strike Harry, but he restrained himself on finding that there was no opposition. He and one of his companions now bound Harry’s arms, making signs to him that if he made any noise his brains would be dashed out. Two others then lifted up Lucy, and taking a cloak which hung on the wall, threw it round her. Plunder did not appear to be their object; for, although numerous articles were lying about which would have been of value to them, none were taken. The savages now lifted up Lucy and Harry in their arms and carried them out of the house. Harry looked round, hoping to see some of the native servants. No one appeared.
“I hope, at all events, that Betsy may have set light to the signal-fire, that if we are carried away our friends will come in pursuit of us,” he said to himself.
Great was his disappointment when directly afterwards he saw Betsy brought along in the arms of two of the savages.
“I have done it though, Master Harry,” she exclaimed, loud enough for him to hear. “I had just time to throw the candle in among the sticks and paper before they caught me, – I do not think they saw what I had been about, or they would have stopped and put it out.”
A savage growl, and the hand of one of her captors placed over her mouth, prevented Betsy from saying any more.
The whole party now moved down the hill at a rapid rate towards the river. On reaching the bank the young captives were placed on board a canoe, several of which were collected at the spot. Harry felt a little relieved when his arms were unbound, and he was allowed to sit at his ease beside Lucy. The savages evidently supposed that he would not attempt to leap out and swim on shore.
The flotilla shoved off. The night was very dark, but the Maoris, well acquainted with the river, navigated dexterously amid the rocks and occasional rapids in their course. Now and then the water could be seen bubbling up on either side, and sometimes leaping over the gunwale, and once or twice so much came in that Harry feared the canoe would be swamped.
“If we are upset, stick to me, Lucy,” he whispered. “I’ll swim with you to the shore, and we will then run off and try and make our escape.” Lucy felt confident of her young brother’s courage, but feared that there was little prospect of his succeeding in the attempt. Poor Betsy shrieked out with alarm. A threatening sound from the man who steered the canoe warned her to keep silence.
There had been for sometime a strong wind, it now increased, and blowing directly against them, greatly impeded the progress of the canoes. Still the Maoris persevered. At length a loud clap of thunder burst from the sky. It was succeeded by several terrific peals, while vivid flashes of forked lightning darting forth showed that they were passing between high rugged cliffs which rose on either side of the stream, overhung with trees, amid which the wind roared and whistled as they waved to and fro above their heads, threatening every instant, torn up by the roots, to fall over and crush them. The thunder rattled louder than ever, reverberating among the cliffs. Just then a flash, brighter than its predecessors, which came hissing along close to the canoe, showed Harry the savage features of Hemipo, who was sitting in the stern steering. Still the canoe went on, indeed, as far as Harry could see there was no place on either side where they could have landed, and he earnestly prayed that, should any accident happen, it might be further on, where there would be a hope of reaching the shore. Lucy sat with her hands clasped in his, and her calmness and self-possession gave him courage.
“Oh, what a dear brave little sister mine is,” he thought to himself. “I would willingly give up my life to save her’s. I wonder what these savages will do with us. They surely cannot be so barbarous as to intend to kill her, – they may knock me on the head very likely, and I only wonder they did not do so at first, it would have been more like their usual custom.”
The rain was now falling in torrents. Harry drew the cloaks which had been thrown over Lucy and Betsy closer round them. He was himself quickly wet through, but for that he cared little.
Though it was evident that the paddlers were straining every nerve to urge the canoe onwards, he could judge by the appearance of the cliffs that they were making but slow progress, sometimes, indeed, they were almost brought to a standstill, then again they would redouble their efforts, and the wind lulling for a short time, they would stem the rapid current and get into calmer water. It was difficult to judge, under the circumstances, how time went by, but it seemed to Harry that the whole night was thus spent. Still the darkness continued, and hour after hour passed.
At length the banks came more clearly into view, and he could distinguish the other canoes in company. Suddenly the cliffs on either side ceased, and he found that they had entered a lake. Covered, however, as it was with foaming waves stirred up by the storm, it seemed scarcely possible for the canoes to make their way across it. After they had in vain attempted to do so, and several of them had been nearly swamped, Harry perceived that they were steering towards the shore. They made their way up a small inlet, where, sheltered from the gale, the canoes at length floated quietly, and their crews set to work to bail them out. This being done, Harry observed that they were examining their muskets, and fresh priming them, lest they should have become damp with the rain. He hoped from this that they had not yet reached Hemipo’s district, and were still in that of some friendly tribe. Meantime a man was sent on shore, who ran to the summit of a neighbouring height, where Harry saw him looking round, as if to ascertain whether any one was approaching.
On his return, after he had given his report, Hemipo landed, and with scant ceremony dragged his prisoners out of the canoe, and signed to them that they were to accompany him. Eight of the savages immediately landed and closed round them. Having issued orders to the remainder, he led the way towards the entrance of a valley which extended up from the water. Lucy and Betsy could with difficulty walk after having been so long cramped up in the canoe. Harry begged his sister to lean on him, that he might help her along, and poor Betsy did her best to keep up with them, for the savages showed no inclination to slacken their pace. Every now and then, indeed, one of them gave her a rough push to make her move faster. Harry felt very indignant, but knew that it would be useless to expostulate, and dreaded lest Lucy might be treated in the same way. The valley through which they were proceeding he found ran parallel with the lake, and concluded, as was the case, that it would at length conduct them to an upper part of the stream, which, had it not been for the storm, Hemipo intended to have reached in the canoes. The chief stalked on ahead, every now and then turning round to order his followers to move faster. The valley, as they proceeded, narrowed considerably; the sides, composed of wild rugged rocks with overhanging trees crowning their summits, rising precipitously on either hand. Harry observed that the chief, as they advanced, looked cautiously ahead, as if he thought it possible that an enemy might appear to intercept him. Suddenly he stopped altogether, and addressed a few words to his followers, while he pointed up the valley. What he said Harry could not understand, but several of the savages directly afterwards drew their merais from their belts, and cast fierce looks at their captives, which too clearly indicated their cruel designs.
“Oh, our dear father, my poor brother,” murmured Lucy, as her eye glanced at the savages’ weapons, and she clung closer to Harry, thinking of those she loved more than of herself. “Yet they cannot be so cruel.”
“Are they going to kill us?” cried Betsy. “Dear, dear Miss Lucy,” and she stretched out her arms as if to protect her young mistress.
After waiting a short time Hemipo ordered two of his men to go ahead, apparently to ascertain if the road was clear. They seemed satisfied that such was the case, for at a sign from them he and the rest proceeded as before. Harry, as they advanced, could not help looking up frequently at the cliffs on either side, and more than once he fancied he saw some person moving among the rocks as if observing them, while at the same time endeavouring to remain concealed. If such was the case, the person managed to escape the keen eyes of the Maoris, for Hemipo went on, evidently not supposing that he was watched. At length they emerged from the defile, and proceeding over a more open, though still a hilly and picturesque country, till they again came in sight of the river. By this time Lucy and Betsy were nearly dropping with fatigue, and even Harry, though accustomed to exercise, felt very tired, but the savages still urged them on, regardless of their weary legs. Harry felt very indignant, but Lucy entreated him not to show his resentment.
At last a hill, round the base of which the river made its way, rose directly before them, with a stockade on its summit, similar to that surrounding Ihaka’s village. Hemipo led the way towards it, and ascended a narrow path, at the top of which appeared a gateway, with a huge hideous figure above it. As he approached a number of women and children and old men issued forth eyeing his captives with no pleasant looks. Scarcely a word, however, was exchanged between the inhabitants and him till they entered the pah, when the whole party seated themselves on the ground, each of them singling out one of the new comers, and began rubbing their noses together, howling and weeping, while the tears, in copious torrents, flowed down their brown cheeks. Under other circumstances, Harry, who with his sister and Betsy, were left standing alone, would have felt inclined to laugh heartily at the odd scene, but matters were too serious to allow him to do so now.
After the savages had rubbed their noses, howled, and shed a sufficiency of tears to satisfy their feelings, they got up with dry eyes and unconcerned looks, as if nothing of the sort had occurred. They then came round their captives, who were allowed to stand unmolested, while Hemipo was apparently giving an account of his adventures. Lucy and Betsy trembled as they saw the fierce glances cast at them during the chief’s address; their lives seemed to hang on a thread, for any moment his auditors, whom he appeared to be working into a fury, might rush forward and cut them down with the merais, which, ever and anon, they clutched as if eager to use them. At length he ceased, when another orator got up, and appeared to be endeavouring to calm the angry feelings of the assembly. Others spoke in the same strain, and at last the orator, who had opposed Hemipo, having gained his object, so it seemed, came up to the captives and signed to them to accompany him. Leading them to a large wahré on one side of the pah, he told them to enter. Lucy, overcome with fatigue, sank on a heap of fern, which covered part of the floor.
“Cheer up,” said Harry, “they do not intend to kill us, and I hope that chief, who looks more good-natured than Hemipo, will think of bringing us some food. I’ll let him know that we want it.” Harry went back to the door at which the chief was still standing, and made signs that they were very hungry. The chief evidently understood him, and in a short time a girl appeared with a basket of sweet potatoes, some baked fish, and a bowl of water. Lucy thanked her warmly in Maori, saying that she might some day have the opportunity of rewarding her, adding —
“Our people will be grateful for any kindness shown us, and though we have been most cruelly carried away from our home, yet they will not revenge themselves on the innocent.” The girl, whom Lucy supposed from her appearance to be a slave, looked very much surprised.
“Our religion teaches us that we should forgive our enemies, and do good to those who injure us, and therefore still more should we be grateful to all who do us good,” she continued. “Do you understand that?” The girl shook her head, and made signs to Lucy and her companions to eat while the food was hot; they needed, indeed, no second bidding, the girl standing by while they discussed the meal.
Lucy feeling the importance of gaining the good-will of any person in the village, again spoke to the girl, much to the same effect as before. The latter evidently understood her, and made a sign that if discovered in helping them to escape she would be killed. Lucy’s words had, however, it seemed, made an impression on her mind, for when she stooped down to take up the basket and bowl, she whispered that she would do what she could to be of use to them.
They were now left alone. Harry entreated his companions to go to sleep, declaring that he was able to sit up and keep watch; and in spite of their anxiety, they were so weary, that in a few minutes their eyes closed, and they happily forgot all that had occurred. Harry kept awake as well as he could, and every now and then he observed women and children, and sometimes men, peering at them through the open door of the hut. Discovering, however, a chick mat spread on a framework leaning against the side of the hut, he conjectured that it was intended to use as a door, and, accordingly, placing it across the entrance, shut out the intruders. Having now nothing to distract his attention, he very soon dropped off to sleep. It was dark when he awoke, and as there were no sounds in the village he concluded that it was night, and he hoped that they might therefore be allowed to rest in quiet. He went to the door of the hut and looked out. No one was stirring, the storm had ceased, and the stars were shining brightly overhead. He again carefully closed the entrance, securing it with some poles, so that it could not be opened from the outside, and throwing himself on the fern at Lucy’s feet, was soon fast asleep.