Графични страници
PDF файл
ePub

A good bird's-eye view of Auckland may be had from Mount Eden. Standing on the brink of its extinct crater the eye wanders over a wide and picturesque scene, embracing the mountains and irregular bays of both coasts. At our feet is the city; then comes the network of masts and rigging; then, across an arm of the harbor, is the quiet village of North Shore, where many of the business men have their suburban homes. In the distant background, and across another arm of the bay, rise the blue peaks of Mount Rangitoto, showing no traces of its ancient volcanic activity. In the olden times, when this part of the island was the escape-valve of the fiery furnace below, Rangitoto was the chief outlet, while Mount Eden and numerous other lesser summits were auxiliary vents. The city itself has about 14,000 inhabitants, and there may be about as many more in the suburbs.

Daring our week's stay in Auckland we saw only a handful of the Maori, few of whom inhabit this part of the island. On Monday, the 5th of July, we set out for the famous hot spring regions of Ohinemutu, near which they are most numerous, far outnumbering the whites. Our first point was the harbor of Tauranga, 150 miles distant, the voyage being made in the Waitaki, a nutshell screw-steamer of 228 tons burden.

The 4th of July coming on Sunday, the 5th was legal Independence Day; and we almost fancied that the local little steamer had in mind to pay us off for the rebellion which our fathers inaugurated on this day, so many years ago. If this were her purpose, it was thoroughly carried out; for she gave us, for twenty hours, such a thorough shaking up as we had never undergone since the days of our schoolboy peccadillos. If we looked as we felt, we must have presented a woe-begone aspect when, in the early morning, we made our advent into the hotel a Tauranga. But a night's sleep, and huge drafts of fresh air, like that of a bright October morning in New England, put us to rights, and enabled us to enjoy the sights and scenes which presented themselves.

We remained a fortnight at this little antipodean settlement, occupying ourselves mainly in studying the character and habits of the Maori, whose thatched "Wha-res" are plainly visible upon the picturesque hills across the narrow, well-protected anchorage which sets inland from Cook's "Bay of Plenty."

We were fortunate in timing our visit, for the Land Court was in session, and the Maori, having plenty of land left, and many disputes about it, have abundant business for this tribunal to adjudicate. From one side we could see them embarking in canoer to cross the inlet; could watch their rapid approach, and hear the merry shouts of these now peaceful ex-canibals, as they dipped their paddles deep into the smooth waters, the women paddling as lustily as the men. The canoes were of all sizes. Some would hold only a single person; others twenty or thirty. Some steered for the steps of the wharf. Others drove their crafts as far as possible up the shelving beach, and then waded, or were carried ashore. A pair of shoes appears to be the distinguishing indication of a wellto-do Maori; and we noticed that a man thus decorated was almost invariably carried ashore by a woman, presumably his wife. It was an odd sight to see a woman, with her scanty skirts tucked about her thighs, jump overboard into the cold water and stand there, while her lazy lord mounted her back, clasped his arms around her neck, stack his long legs straight out ia front, so as to keep his precious brog ins dry, and was then toted ashore. This done, the woman would light her pipe, and smoke away as contentedly as though she had been performing the most ordinary wifely duty.

The largest canoe which landed at the wharf where we were standing was closely packed. In it were men, women and children of all ages. One woman bore upon her back her infant, of whom nothing was visible but his little black head, sticking out from above the blanket, which served the double purpose of keeping him in place and of protecting both from cold. Another woman carried a three-year-old urchin, his bare legs exposed defiantly to the keen morning wind, and the flaps of his only garment quite as often blown over his head as occupying their appropriate place.

:

The men and grown-up boys presented all sorts of costumes. One man was clad in jaunty European attire, of almost the latest fashion black stovepipe-hat, well starched linen, thick ulster coat, and swinging a dain cane. By his side, and apparently on terms of perfec equality, was another, whose wardrobe consisted only of a shirt and a blanket. Between these extremes there was every sort of costume, European and Maori garments being mingled in every variety of composition. Thus, one wore a cap and coat, but had a blanket wrapped tightly about his thighs in lieu of trousers, and so on, shoes being the exception, not the rule.

The women, in so far as they attain European garb, manifested decided taste in the choice of colors, usually selecting those of a modest tone, such as plain red and yellow, with a little intermixture of green or blue. Feathers are fancifully arrayed in their hair. Both men and women have their ears pierced with large holes, through which are tied black ribbons, with long jade pendants. The women wear also upon their breasts jade ornaments, called hei-tiki, often of large size, cut in the shape of a caricature of humanity. These ornaments and pendants are held in high esteem, and are handed down from generation to generation, as family jewels are with us. Indeed, I imagine that to fashion one of these involves quite as much labor as did the cutting of the Koh-i-noor. This obsidian-like greenstone was to the Maori all that iron and copper, gold and silver, diamonds and emeralds are to us Most of the adults were tattooed more or less: the women only at the corners of the mouth and on the chin; the men in any conceivable amount, from a few faint marks to a network of curving blue lines, covering every hair's breadth of their faces, and wholly obliterating every trace of the natural brown color of the skin,

In our perambulations that morning about the town we found no lack of matter for amusement. Nothing can be more funny than the Maori mode of salutation. The men greet each other with a short, cheerful "Tena-koe?"equivalent to the English "How-dy ?"-shake hands, and just touch the tips of their noses together. With the women the mode is far more ceremonious. The Tena-koe is drawled out into a long, mournful whine, commencing from the moment when they come within hailing distance, and with a most lugubrious expression of countenance; both being kept up until the pair of noses come pat together, when they are vigorously rubbed against each other as though the mutual purpose was to do away with that prominent feature of the human face divine. Not another word is said. I suppose that T-e-e-e-na-k-o-o-o-a? asks and answers all questions regarding their individual health and that of their respective households. In the politest circles the ceremony is the same.

Later in the day, however, when they have visited the "saloons," things have a different look. Our taciturn friends become loquacious to a degree. They talk not only with the tongue, but with the body and every member of it. More expressive gesticulation and poising and posturing I never saw,

The Maori are natural actors. Sometimes we came upon a group every member of which seemed wrought up to the fighting point. But at the moment when their screams were the loudest, their jumps the highest, and their gesticulations the most pugnacious, every one of them would burst out into an uproarious peal of laughter. They had been performing some sort of a drama, in which all were actors and all spectators. Again, we would come upon a group gathered around an orator who was haranguing in the most impassioned manner. We, of course, could not understand a word of what he was saying; but if action be the soul of eloquence, the oration must have been worthy of a Demos

[blocks in formation]

But we did not dream how a Maori can talk upon a subject in which he has a vital interest until we had visited e Courthouse, where the Land

Court was in

session. Their lands are about the

only salable property which they have; and though much has passed from their hands, they still possess thousands upon thousands of the most fertile

acres in New Zealand, and they are day by day becoming more and more aware of their value,

consequence is heir to everything of which he died possessed. We were told of a case in which one of the parties in a land-suit vauntingly asked his opponent, "Where are my ancestors buried ?" "Here!" replied the other, laying his hand upon his own paunch, indicating that his forefather had eaten the body of the ancestor of his opponent, thereby acquiring an untainted title to his landed estate. Analyzing the matter carefully, such a Maori title seems to be a little better than that by which the present possessors of the greater part of the soil of England and Ireland hold their estates. In both cases the

ENTRANCE TO A PAH.

and more and more stickling about the number of gallons of rum to be paid for an acre. These lands are held partly tribally and partly individually; and before a white man can acquire a legal title to any piece of ground, the Maori claims must be thoroughly sifted by the Land Court. A good Maori title to a patch of ground seems to be that somo ancestor of the claimant was buried upon it; or, better still, that some former owner of it had been killed and eaten by an ancestor of the present claimant. The theory seems to be that the man into whose stomach a portion of the body of another has passed, has absorbed into his own person that individual, body and soul, and by

ancestors of the present holders killed

their prede

cessors, but

[graphic]

in

[ocr errors]

addition

to this, the Maori gave them honorable sepulture in their own maws.

I am not able to say how much weight the colonial Land Court accords to this particular kind of Maori title; but from all that

I can learn,

it aims to do justice between rival claimants. Maori assessors are appointed to aid the judge, and their assistance is of special value in the genealogical groundsupon which in most cases the title rests; and due care

seems to be

taken that they shall be appointed

from a district other than that in which they are to act, so that they can trace no common lineage with either litigant.

The scene in the court-room at our first visit was unique. The judge was the only white man present; but the room was packed with Maori, some seated upon benches, some leaning against the wall, some squatted upon the floor; but all listening intently to the vehement speech of Enoka, one of their chiefs, upon some important cause. We, too, listened intently, although we could not understand a word of it.

Enoka is a notable man, of magnificent proportions,

[graphic][merged small]

dressed from head to foot in becoming European garments, with nothing about him to denote the olden time except his tattooed face and a slight, limping gait, the consequence of a wound received in some inter-tribal conflict. So great is his influence over his people, and such is his integrity and intelligence, that he has been appointed native assessor, with the right to sit upon the bench with the resident magistrate in cases of litigation between native land claimants, who must now have their claims settled by fixed law, instead of deciding them for themselves by the spear and war-club.

Late in July (corresponding to our February) we resumed our journey to Ohinemutu, forty-two miles inland from Tauranga. To lessen the fatigue we were to break the trip at Oroki, thirteen miles on the way. For a few miles the road runs through a cultivated region; then we cross a little river with a few scattered cabbage-palms along its banks, and come upon a tract without trees or grass. Here and there was a small, tilled patch; but most of the ground is overgrown by rank, wavy ferns.

Oroki is a settlement of great expectations, but its present population consists of five white and fifty or sixty Maori families. It boasts of an inn with a very garrulous landlady, who was not long in making us aware of the slight esteem which she had for her Maori neighbors. According to her representations they are given to petty thieving, and will never tell the truth when they can by any possibility think of a lie. Our own later acquaintance with these people has led us to doubt much of these representations. Near by are several ruined pahs (mud-forts), which give evidence that this has been the scene of fighting in former days. In one of them a former Maori chief is said to have buried an untold amount of treasure, and there is no other spot in New Zealand where the spade has been so industriously plied.

Early in the morning we resumed our journey, and soon entered upon the great forest known as the "Eighteenmile Bush." It is midwinter by the almanac; but Winter in New Zealand is a very different thing from Winter in New England. It may more properly be called the "rainy season," although it does not rain all the time, and did not this day. In our hemisphere in the corresponding zone, Winter is the season of naked stems and leafless boughs. Here it is the time when vegetation is in its Justiest state.

There is a road from Oroki to Ohinemutu, and a stagecoach traverses it. I have been driven over many bad roads, but never over one worse than this. Through the Eighteen-mile Bush it was mostly a perfect quagmire, "corduroyed" just enough to keep the wheels from sinking axle-deep, and to make the ride one perpetual series of jolts and jumps, up and down, now to one side, now to the other, and sometimes seemingly all at once. Our driver was the most taciturn of mortals outside of a deafand-dumb asylum. There is an old story of a country where it is so cold that words fall down in frozen pellets as they escape from the lips of the speaker; and I half fancied that the words which our coachman meant to have spoken were somehow jolted down his throat into the regions below the navel. But why should he talk at all? There was nothing to talk about, unless he had chosen to execrate the bad road, for there is not a trace of human life in this long bush-scarcely a trace between the whares of Oroki and the hot spring of Ohinemutu.

Had he been of an aesthetic turn he might have gone into raptures over the fine scenery, for this detestable road winds through a forest of royal magnificence; sometimes through a deep gulch whence we could look up at it from below; sometimes climbing an ascent whence we could

look down upon it from above. The dark hues of the evergreens were every where set off by clinging masses of running vines and luxuriant clumps of climbing parasites. From each elevation we could look down upon a rich, undulating sea of arboreal beauty, now dipping down to the level of the tiniest fern, now swelling upward to the globu. lar, glossy tops of the gigantic rota-tree. The decaying stumps were profusely adorned by creeping vines, and encircled by lowly mosses. Lofty fern-trees reared their jeweled heads high above the dense undergrowth, their slender trunks somewhat resembling the cocoa-palm, but gracefully crowned with feathery fronds of infinitely finer texture. The grandest scene was about midway through the bush, at the confluence of two mountain streams, where the road ran perilously near the verge of a dizzy precipice. Across the intervening ravine rose a rocky cliff, whose overbanging masses threatened to tumble down into the little stream at its base. So lofty are these ledges, and so dense is the overhanging foliage of the vine-wreathed evergreens, that the road winds through a verdurous dale scarcely penetrated by the light of the noonday sun.

There was no lack of living creatures. The labyrinthine mazes of the forest resounded with the notes of strange song-birds, whose forms were now and then seen flitting among the equally strange foliage. Cook, or some other early navigator, left a few pigs upon the island. These multiplied and increased, and their progeny, reverting to their natural wild state, have taken possession of the bush, where the roots of the ever-present fern afford them an abundance of succulent food. They are hunted by dogs, equally wild, and most probably the descendants of some canines also left by Cook. That these pigs will show fight was evinced to us by the sight of a gaunt cur, whose side had been freshly gashed by the sharp tusks of a boar.

Leaving the great bush behind us, we enter an open fern-region, and in due time come to the foot of Lake Roto-Rua, girt around by hills of no great elevation. At the extreme head of the lake, eleven miles away, is Ohinemutu, and we could soon see the vapor of its countless hot springs rising into the clear air, looking in the distance like the curling smoke from some vast conflagration. Before long our nostrils were assailed by the sulphurous stench from these springs; and at four o'clock in the afternoon we reached the hotel of Ohinemutu, in a hungry condition, for at Oroki we had improvidently neglected to provide ourselves with a lunch.

It was well that we had chosen this day for the trip, for on the succeeding one a cold, drizzling rain set in; not a good, honest down-pour, but one which our English friend fitly characterized as "narsty." Luckily a sulphur-bath, of any desired temperature up to boiling-point, can be had at Ohinemutu, without previous notice, and free of charge. A few of these quickly put to rights our joints, muscles and bones, which had been in a manner dislocated, strained and broken up by the joltings of our weary ride; and by the time the rain ceased we were in trim to begin our explorations.

Ohinemutu consists of a hotel and a few other frame buildings, standing in the midst of a hamlet of Maori wha-res. The hot springs are the sole reason for its being. The Maori seem to have selected it as the site of their settlement mainly because they could here boil their sweet potatoes, fern-roots and crayfish without the trouble of lighting a fire. All they have to do is to put them into a bag, and place them on one of these ever-boiling kettles. Baking can be performed in a like economical manner. Dig a hole in any convenient spot, put in your viands, and in due time they will be done to a turn. Except when the wind blows from the south, the people live in a perpetual

atmosphere of steam. So thin is the crust of earth overlying the furnaces, that you need only to thrust a walkingstick into the soil anywhere, and a jet of steam will come up. If one happens to be walking in a wrong direction, he is not unlikely to slump through into a mass of seething mud. Accidents of this kind are not very uncommon. Within the last six years three Europeans, and as many Maori, have met their death in this way. Among these was the little daughter of our hotel-keeper. She went from the house for a few moments, fell into a hot pool, and was brought back so badly scalded that she died in a few hours.

The whole region a few feet-perhaps inches-below the surface, is in a state of effervescence. The seething liquids and semi-liquids biss and sizzle and boil up through the thin crust of earth or cracks in the stone, in a thousand ways, from a quiet caldron of hot water to a bubbling mudhole or, a boiling pool. Several of these springs, of a moderate temperature, have been inclosed so as to form private bathrooms for the benefit of tourists, who are beginning to find their way hither. But there are plenty left for the Maori to occupy in their ancestral way, with the sky for a roof and the open air for a dressing-room.

I should judge that the chief occupation of a Maori at Ohinemutu, irrespective of age, sex or condition, was to take a hot bath, dry upon the stones placed about the principal bathing-place, which is a quite respectable pond, and then take another bath. On a cold, dry day they go there to keep warm; on a rainy day to "keep dry." On such a day look into the bathing-pool and you will see only a score or two of black heads exposed to the chilly rain; all the rest of their unclothed person is warm and "dry" below the surface.

On pleasant days, also, it is pleasanter in the water than out of it. They eat there, smoke there, and sometimes take a nap there. One day we saw a Maori matron, half in and half out of the water, smoking away at a stubby clay pipe, and keeping a look-out upon her two children. As we passed she caught up the younger one and held it modestly before her so as to conceal her naked breasts. This was rather a refinement of delicacy, for in Maori eyes there is nothing in the slightest degree improper for men, women and children to bathe together without a shred of clothing. This bathing-pool and the flat stones which have been placed over some steam-jets near by is the Maori casino of Ohinemutu. A gentleman will saunter up to the brink, drop the flat mat, or blanket, which forms his entire wardrobe, as unconcernedly as a European doffs his overcoat, and slip into the water, where his female acquaintances are sure to be "at home." Society affairs having been discussed in the water, he makes his au revoir, dons his blanket, dries himself off upon the hot stones, then betakes himself to the wha-re runanga, or town-hall, where most likely the haka-dance is to be performed, and where rum and beer are to be had. How the gentleman manages to get home to his own wha-re with out stumbling into a boiling spring is most likely a mystery to him, as it most certainly is to me.

Close by the chief bathing-pool is a much shallower one, also well warmed up, which answers all the purposes of a kindergarten. It is a funny sight to see the small fry of Ohinemutu disporting themselves here. At one moment their little naked bronze figures will appear chasing each other upon the banks, the next moment, as if urged by a common impulse, they will plump into the water like so many startled frogs. In or out of the water, they seem to enjoy themselves thoroughly.

Not far from the hotel a little cove sets in from the lake.

There are hot springs upon the banks, and others gushing up from the bottom, and between them all they have so attempered the water that by wading or swimming a few yards one can get a cold, a tepid, or a hot bath without turning a faucet. A part of this cove, where the sublacustrine boilers lie pretty close together, has been utilized for laundry purposes by the Maori women. Sitting shoulder-deep at the edge of a natural boiler, where the temperature is about blood-beat, one can, by extending her arms, put her soiled linen into water hot enough for all detergent purposes. And as for drying-ground, wellheated from beneath, and without cost or trouble, there is upon the shores enough, and to spare.

We had heard not a little of the geysers of this hotspring region. We half expected to come across things like those of which we had read, and which we had seen depictured in Iceland and Colorado-springs which with due provocation, and, lacking that, of their own accord would at intervals fling up columns of water to the height of many a yard. In this regard we saw very much what Mr. Anthony Trollope saw, not quite ten years ago. He writes:

"At Ohinemutu I saw nothing of uplifted columns of water thrown up and dispersed in the air. At some spots these were sudden eruptions which would rise, with a splutter rather than a column, perhaps six or eight feet high, throwing boiling spray around, and creating an infinite quantity of steam, but these were not continuous, lasting, perhaps, for a minute, and remaining quiescent for four or five, during which the rumbling and boiling of the waters beneath would be heard. In other cases jets of steam would be thrown up to a considerable height, probably over twenty feet. As to the jets of water, I was told that I was very unfortunato-that the geysers were very tranquil during my

visit."

The

In this respect we were equally unfortunate. Yet I am inclined to believe that in very recent times these hot springs have put on the form of spouting geysers. Honorable Herbert Meade, who made a "Ride through New Zealand" a little more than twenty years ago, says that Ohinemutu "is built in the very midst of hot springs which surround what is considered by one who has seen also those of Iceland, the largest geysers in the world;" and William Howitt, a few years before, was told that "the big geyser begins best to play about December, culminates in February, when it shoots up once in about twelve minutes, the eruptions lasting about twenty-five seconds." Not improbably these phenomena vary through cycles of years as well as through cycles of months.

Lake Roto-Rua (or rather Lake Rua, for Roto is merely the Maori word for "lake") is one of a series of lakelets lying within the space of a few square miles, and connected with each other. Roto-Rua means "Second Lake"; there is Roto-Iti, "Little Lake"; Roto-Ahu, and others, among which is Terawera, notable for its white and pink terraces, near which we spent seven months among the Maori; aequired their language, won their confidence, and tried, not without success, to make total abstainers of them.

At

The terraces of Terawera are altogether unique. They have been formed by the deposits of mineral matter from a boiling pond, which occupies the top of a bluff some 200 feet high. As you ascend from the level of the lake you step along a raised fretwork of stone, looking like chased silver, over which the water is constantly running. each step, as you ascend, the water grows hotter and hotter. Before long you come to three alabaster-like natural baths, one above the other, cunningly carved by the ever-working hand of Nature. These are the so-called "white terraces," though the designation is not quite On the other accurate, the color being a delicate salmon.

« ПредишнаНапред »