The adventures of Kimble Bent: A story of wild life in the New Zealand bushCowan, James
History
The adventures of Kimble Bent: A story of wild life in the New Zealand bush
Cowan, James
Bent, Kimble, 1837-1916; New Zealand -- Description and travel
To this day the Maoris of the Patea tell stories of Hiroki's solitary
and savage life in the bush. One place in particular--at Orangimura,
between three and four miles above Rukumoana--is pointed out as a
hiding-place of the refugee. Here a large, hollow _rata_-tree grew near
the top of a high bank; the Patea River flowed below. Hiroki had camped
here in order to get wild honey from a hive in the hollow tree, and
after he had filled a couple of calabashes with the honey he lit his
nightly fire and went to sleep close to the cliff-top, first tying his
dog up to a bush with a flax rope. In the night the dog bit through the
flax that held him, and jumping on his master so startled him that he
forgot he was so near the verge of the cliff, over which he promptly
rolled in the darkness; he fell with a mighty splash in the river
below, together with his astonished dog. The spot where this night
adventure occurred is called by the Maoris Te Pari-o-Hiroki, which
means "Hiroki's Precipice."
CHAPTER XXVIII
OUT OF EXILE
Canoeing on the Patea--The voyage to Hukatéré--The white man's
world again--Bent the medicine-man--_Makutu_, or the Black
Art--Bent's later days--The end.
All was ready for the voyage, and the _pakeha_-Maori and his companions
loaded their canoe and embarked for Hukatéré--thirty miles down-stream,
not far from the sea-coast. The Patea was a very winding stream,
flowing between high forest-covered banks; its course was impeded by
frequent rocky shoals and accumulations of sunken logs, which formed
rapids. Aboard the canoe, besides Bent, were Rupé, Hakopa and his
niece, and a man named Te Rii, who was an _urukehu_, or "fair hair."
The white man and his Maori companions paddled along merrily for seven
or eight miles, lightening their labours with canoe-songs. Then, in
shooting a rapid, the canoe struck a rock, swung broadside on to the
swift current, and immediately capsized.
The crew reached the shore safely, and hauled the canoe up on to a
shingly bank. Fortunately all the cargo--the baskets of dried eels and
the calabashes filled with honey--had been made fast to the thwarts, as
a precaution against such an accident, and so was saved; but old Hakopa
lost a little kit--his bush savings-bank--containing a sum of money
which he had acquired at the Waitara. On the bank a fire was kindled
by means of flint and steel--commonly used amongst the Maoris in those
days, and still occasionally seen in use in remote forest districts,
such as the Urewera Country. By the blaze of the great fire the wrecked
canoeists dried themselves and their garments, and they camped there
that night.
At daylight next morning they embarked again, and another day and a
half at the paddles took them down to the Hukatéré _kainga_, a large
settlement of _raupo_-thatched houses, standing on the left bank of the
Patea, in a beautiful bend, with the lofty, forest-fringed cliffs of
Pariroa jutting out abruptly on the opposite shore.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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