"War to the Knife;" or, Tangata MaoriBoldrewood, Rolf
General
"War to the Knife;" or, Tangata Maori
Boldrewood, Rolf
Māori (New Zealand people) -- Fiction; New Zealand -- Fiction
"Not De Massinger of the Court, in Herefordshire--surely not?" said
the bishop, more keenly interested. "I saw him in camp when I came
from Pukerimu, poor boy! I knew his people well in England--among the
very oldest families in the land. I met him soon after his arrival in
Auckland. Whatever hard fate brought him into this disastrous strife?
But I should not say fate; rather the will of God, which often from
present chastening leads to our eventual gain. But the time draws near
for our service--the last, most probably, that I shall hold here. It
will be my farewell to these poor people, whom I have loved and prayed
for so often."
And as the good man retired to his chamber for the preparation
of prayer which he always held to be necessary, even in the most
thinly populated and apparently humble localities, Hypatia took
the opportunity of escaping from a conversation which threatened
embarrassing conditions.
Punctually at the appointed hour, the bell of the little church
having sounded for the canonical time, the man of God walked through
the crowd of dark-skinned proselytes, who awaited his arrival with
unaffected reverence; and murmurs of approbation were heard as he
paced with solemn steps towards the humble building, for which many
of those present had contributed labour or materials. Yet were not
all fully agreed. Some of the older men had been acted upon by the
disaffected of the tribe, and hardly concealed their distrust of the
pihopa, who went between the contending forces, and might, perhaps,
convey information to their foes. This allegation, openly made at the
rebel camp, caused the good bishop the most poignant grief--to think
that his people, his children in the Lord, as he fondly called them,
should distrust him, who for them, for their present advantage and
eternal weal, had sacrificed the intellectual luxuries of the parent
land, his place among the noble and the great, all the unspeakable
social advantages which await the distinguished son of literature and
the Church in Britain! And for what? To live in self-imposed exile in
a distant colony, among a barbarous people but recently redeemed from
the grossest heathen practices! It was more than discouraging, it was
heartbreaking, to one of his sensitive temperament and fervent spirit.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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