THE narrator of the following episode of the tribal wars of the Maoris, is an old woman still living, named Ema Turumeke, who at the time of the incidents referred to in this history, was about 14 or 15 years of age. Born at Kaitangata near Kaiapoi, between the latter place and Rakahuri, on the Ashley River, she, when quite a child, migrated with her parents to Omihi, near Amuri Bluff, south of Kaikoura, and lived with a tribe of people called the Kurukau-puke-puke.
During her stay there, a North Island Native named Te Keke-rengu, 1 belonging to the Ngati-ira tribe, arrived there, having fled from his own people for some transgression. There he found refuge, but with disastrous results to his protectors, as the sequel shows.
Some time after his arrival, towards the close of a certain day, a body of men were espied rapidly approaching the Kainga. The demeanour of these men was such as to admit of no doubt as to their hostile intentions. They had landed from their canoes at Waihara-keke, close by, and proved to be the Ngati-toa and their allies, headed by the redoubtable Te Rauparaha. Rapidly arming themselves, the Kurukau-puke-puke advanced to meet them, and a short and sanguinary encounter took place, in which the Ngati-toa were the victors, losing on their own side, however, one of their chiefs named Huka (of the Ngati-ira tribe, father of Te Kekerengu). Some of Te Rauparaha's men carried firearms, obtained from intercourse with the white men, who were in the habit of visiting Kapiti for trade, and for whaling. Many prisoners were taken by the victors, among them being the chief Rerewaka, whose boastful speech, “I will tear out his entrails with barracouta teeth,” on a former occasion, led to Te Rauparaha's raids on the South Island. Te Rauparaha made slaves of those captured, our friend, Ema Turumeke, and her mother (who was carrying an infant at the time) being among the number. The prisoners were taken to Makura, near Omihi, where they were regaled with potatoes, fish and kumura. Others of the slaves were not so fortunate, as they were killed and eaten instead. The victors sat a considerable distance from their slaves when eating, deeming it beneath their dignity to dine with them.
Early one morning, a day or two after the fight, Ema's mother was set free—the wife of her captor climbing on the roof of a whare, and commanding none to detain her, as she had released her. Ema's mother was thus allowed to depart, taking the infant with her. At mid-day on the same day Ema made her escape, fortunately eluding those who pursued her by escaping into the bush. During Ema's short detention, Te Rauparaha dispatched six of the Ngati-toa warriors belonging to Kapiti Island to Kaiapoi, for the purpose of reconnoitring, evidently intending to attack that stronghold when a favourable opportunity presented itself. This expedition was under the command of Te Pehi. The Kaiapoi people, however, were on the alert, and, surprising the scouts, killed Te Pehi and some others, the rest escaping back to Makura, where Te Rauparaha was awaiting the report of their observations. 2 Enraged at the loss of his men, and the failure of their mission, Te Rauparaha caused some of the slaves to be slain.
But to return to Ema. After making her escape, she ran through the bush for a long time till she came to a potato garden. Thinking she was now safe from further pursuit, she climbed the fence, but, being alarmed by hearing the cracking of some twigs, she quickly hid herself in the hollow of a friendly Tarata tree which grew near. Trembling with terror, she saw from her retreat the figures of three men passing. One was some distance ahead, and was armed with a Taiaha (or club); following him was one with a Patiti (or tomahawk), the last man carrying a musket.
They looked about, and so close were they, that Ema could hear them talking and speculating as to the whereabouts of some of the escaped slaves. Presently, one of the men caught sight of Ema's footmarks, and called to the others, “Here are the tracks of one of the slaves” Ema trembled from head to foot, and scarce dared to breathe; but, to her great relief, they moved away, failing to find where she was secreted. It was a long time, however, before she could summon sufficient courage to leave the tree that had proved such a haven of refuge for her. When she emerged from her hiding-place, she ran yet further into the bush, but eventually turned back to the sea-shore. Being afraid of discovery, she retreated again to the bush. Four times did she retrace her steps, each time to be again, by some mysterious influence, attracted to the cliffs. Boldly scrambling her way down, she gained a crevice, out of which grew three Totara trees. Here, to her great joy, she found her mother and infant, alive and unharmed. The two, taking the infant with them, went into the bush, where they rested that night.
During the night, her mother told her that her atua had warned her not to stir from the spot where they were camped, as the cannibals would pass that way on the following afternoon. This, strange to say, proved to be the case, as about the time expected, she drew her daughter's attention to four men who were passing about 200 yards off. They watched and saw them sit down and cry, calling to any slaves that were within hearing to come to them, as they also had escaped. It was a ruse on their part, but the women, being warned by the atua, did not respond to their call. Thus they escaped the trap set for them. The men soon rose and departed, and the women set out for Kaihika. On their way thither, they fell in with a woman named Pukoro, who was crying for the loss of her son who had been shot in the fight. They sat down for a tangi and remained with her that night.
Next morning they all set out for Kaihika, where they found the young fellow lying. He had been shot through both thighs, and was unable to move. He presented a dreadful sight, as the maggots were crawling through his wounds. Death, however, soon put an end to his sufferings, after which Pukoro returned to Makura. Ema and her mother continued their wanderings, till they were startled at hearing someone commanding them to keep on the crest of the hill they were crossing. Seeing it was the enemy, they ran off down the hill, and came across some of their people lying almost dead with hunger and fatigue. They gave them some roots, and bade them fly quickly as the enemy were on their track. They all ran into the bush, but Ema, who was carrying the baby on her back, could not keep pace with the others.
Darkness coming on, she lost sight of the others, and sitting down she cried bitterly. Presently she saw a woman approaching carrying a torch. This proved to be her mother returning to look for her children. Resting till morning, they started before sunrise, arriving at Waiau-uwha River, and turning off there they came down to the beach at Tauhinukorokio, and journeyed till they reached Waimata. There they stopped that night, and next morning started for Oamaru near Omihi, where we must leave them for the present.
In the meantime, the Kaiapoi natives had assembled to chase the scouts, and attack Te Rauparaha at Makura. On their approach, the Ngati-toa and their allies drew off in their canoes, taking the slaves with them. They landed at Waikuku, north of Kaikoura, and from thence went to Takahaka. Landing here they captured some slaves that had escaped from Makura, and also slew some of the Kaikoura natives, among them being the chief Waha-Aruhe (fern-root mouth). After this Te Rauparaha returned to the North Island.
At Oamaru, Ema and her mother found others of their people, but during the first night of their stay there, they were alarmed by loud reports like the sound of guns, which the people ascribed to the atua of the slain. Next morning, their fears being allayed, they all decided to settle there. Here Ema found her father, who had also escaped the massacre.
1 Te Kekerengu was a son of Te Whanake, or Huka, a chief of Ngati-ira, the tribe which formerly owned Port Nicholson. The reason of his leaving the
North Island is explained in this Journal, Vol. I., p. 91.—Editors.
2 The story of Te Pehi's death is not quite correctly given by Ema Turu-meke; a full account will be found in “Kaiapohia, the Story of a Siege,” by the Rev.
J. W. Stack, p. 39. This event occurred in 1829.—Editors.
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