The affair of the _Jean Bart_ is a curious story. The vessel, a French whaler, anchored off the Chathams in 1839. Eager to trade, the Maori clambered on board in numbers. They began chaffering, and also quarrelling with one another, in a fashion that alarmed the captain. He gave wine to some of his dangerous visitors, and tried to persuade them to go ashore again. Many did so, but several score were still in the ship when she slipped her cable and stood out to sea. Then the Frenchmen, armed with guns and lances, attacked the Maori, who were without weapons, and cleared the decks of them. The fight, however, did not end there. A number of the Ngatiawa were below, whither the whites did not venture to follow them. They presently made their way into a storeroom, found muskets there, and opened fire on the crew. Two of the Frenchmen fell, and the remainder in panic launched three boats and left the ship. By this time the _Jean Bart_ was out of sight of land, but the Maori managed to sail back. She went ashore, and was looted and burnt. About forty natives had been killed in the strange bungling and causeless slaughter. The whalers and their boats were heard of no more. It is thought that they were lost in the endeavour to make New Zealand.[6] [6] In the _Journal of the Polynesian Society_, vol. i., Mr. A. Shand summarises and compares the various versions of this odd business. We have seen how the Maori began their invasion of the Chathams by the seizure of the _Rodney_ at Port Nicholson. It is curious that the best-known incident of the subsequent history of the group was almost the exact converse of this--I mean the seizure at the Chathams of the schooner _Rifleman_ in July 1868. In this case, too, the aggressors were Maori, though they did not belong to the Chathams. They were prisoners of war or suspected natives deported thither from the North Island, and kept there under loose supervision by a weak guard. Their leader, Te Kooti, had never borne arms against us, and had been imprisoned and exiled on suspicion merely. A born leader of men, he contrived the capture of the _Rifleman_ very cleverly, and sailed her back to the North Island successfully, taking with him one hundred and sixty-three men and one hundred and thirty-five women and children. The schooner was carrying a respectable cargo of ammunition, accoutrements, food, and tobacco; but the fugitives could muster between them only about thirty rifles and guns. Yet with this scanty supply of weapons Te Kooti managed to kindle a flame in the Poverty Bay district that took years to extinguish. Finally, after massacring many settlers, and winning or losing a series of fights with our militia and their native allies, his forces were scattered, and he was hunted away with a few followers into the country of the Maori king. There he was allowed to settle undisturbed. He lived long enough to be forgiven, to have his hand shaken by our Native Minister, and to have a house with a bit of