"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
It was early dawn when they floated through the Rangitoto channel
between the island so called--the three-coned peak of which, with
scoria-shattered flanks, denoted volcanic origin--and the North Head.
Passing this guardian headland, "a most living landscape," the more
entrancing from contrast to the endless ocean plain which for so many a
day had limited his vision, was spread out before the voyager's eager
and delighted gaze. Land and water, hill and dale, bold headlands and
undulating verdurous slopes, combined to form a panorama of enchanting
variety.
The city of Auckland, which he had come so far to see, rose in a
succession of graduated eminences from the waters of a sheltered bay.
Bold headlands alternated with winding creeks and estuaries; low
volcanic hills clothed with dazzling verdure, ferny glens and copses
which reminded him of the last day's "cock" shooting at the Court;
while trim villas and even more pretentious mansions gave assurance
that here the modern Vikings, having wearied of the stormy seas, had
made themselves a settled home and abiding-place. Glen and pine-crested
headland, yellow beach and frowning cliff, wharves and warehouses,
skiffs and coasters, the smoke of steamers, all told of the adjuncts of
the Anglo-Saxon--that absorbing race which has rarely been dislodged
from suitable foothold.
On the voyage Massinger had noticed a good-looking man, about his own
age, in whom, in spite of studiously plain attire, he recognized, by
various slight marks and tokens, the English aristocrat. Most probably
the stranger had made similar deductions, as he had commenced their
first conversation with an unreserved condemnation of the weather,
after a passing depreciation of the food, concluding by a query in the
guise of a statement.
"Not been this way before?"
Massinger admitted the fact.
"Going to settle--farm--sheep and all that--take up land, eh!"
"I thought of doing so, unless I change my plans on arrival. I suppose
it's as good as any of the Australian colonies?"
"Beastly holes, generally speaking, for a man who's lived in the
world. Don't know that New Zealand's worse than the rest of the lot.
Australia--all black fellows--kangaroos--sandy wastes--droughts and
floods. Burnt up first--flood comes and drowns survivors. So they tell
me!"
"But New Zealand is fertile and well watered; all the books say so."
"Books d----d rot--lies, end to end; must go yourself to find out. My
third trip."
"Then you like it?" pursued the emigrant, stimulated by this wholesale
depreciation of a country which all other accounts represented as the
Promised Land.
"Have to like it," answered the other; "billet in this infernal New
Zealand Company. Wish I'd broke my leg the day I applied. Heard of it,
I suppose?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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