Bloodthirsty as he must appear to those long since emerged from savagery, Taraia's behaviour at the _pa_ of Erongo was neither savage nor illegal from his point of view. He merely claimed _utu_, as his race had done from time immemorial, his contention being that, whatever the law of the white man, the Maori had their own law and meant to abide by it. He actually put his views before the Governor, who was about to despatch a punitive expedition, and demanded by what right His Excellency proposed to interfere in a purely native quarrel. "Your wisest plan will be to let the matter drop," advised Taraia, "considering how very few Maori chiefs in the interior have signed the Treaty of Waitangi and admitted the sovereignty of Queen Wikitoria." This was a palpable hit; the Governor altered his mind, and sent missionaries instead of soldiers. Taraia readily expressed his willingness to compensate the Tauranga people for the slaughter of their relatives; "but first," said he, "let them compensate me. Did they not eat my mother?" The argument was incontrovertible, and the dreadful incident closed. Taraia's defiance took on a new significance when it was realised how many chiefs were opposed to the dominion of the Pakeha. Besides, numbers of Maori in the north remembered the words of the dying Hongi, and viewed with sullen disapproval the transference of so much land to the white men. Captain Hobson had neither the will nor the power to operate upon a large scale and so enforce submission, and his disappointment at the failure of his hopes was keen indeed. The Governor's pacific demeanour pleased nobody; and even in Auckland, where his attitude towards the Company had at first won him general esteem, men now turned upon him and blamed his policy for almost every disagreeable thing which happened. "He will neither allow the Company to buy from the natives, nor will he himself buy," they snarled; and petitions, representations to the Home Government, and even threats of personal violence, made the Governor's life miserable. He was not long so tried, for he died on the 10th of September, 1842, and after his death some, at least, had the grace to be ashamed of their behaviour towards a man who had honestly striven to do his best in a most difficult situation. The Maori, with clearer vision than the self-swayed Pakeha, saw the good that was in Captain Hobson. It is significant that, when petitioning Her Majesty for a new Governor, the friendly chiefs wrote, "Give us a good man, like him who is dead." CHAPTER XV TE RAUPARAHA AND HONI HEKE Captain Hobson was succeeded as Acting-Governor by Lieutenant Shortland, R.N., the Colonial Secretary, whose administration was marked by one awful tragedy, which stained blood-red the short chapter of New Zealand's history with which he was concerned.