CHAPTER XXIII - ANOTHER JOURNEY TO BAY OF ISLANDS
As there were two roads across to
the Bay of Islands, and I was anxious to see as much
of the country as possible, I determined that my second
journey should be by the longest route. I set
off, accompanied only by a native boy to carry a small
portmanteau and to serve me as a guide. As, on
my former journey, we travelled many miles through
thick tangled forests, fatiguing beyond description.
In the midst of our toilsome progress, night frequently
overtook us; then, by means of my fowling-piece, I
procured a light, the boy made a fire, and we passed
the night in this vast wilderness, far from the habitation
of any human being! At daybreak we resumed our
journey, and at length (about ten o’clock) we
emerged from the wood, and entered upon extensive plains.
These were not naked deserts, similar to the ones I
had passed through on my former route, but were diversified
with bush and brake, with a number of small villages
scattered in various directions. At mid-day we
arrived at what in New Zealand is considered a town
of great size and importance, called Ty-a-my.
It is situated on the sides of a beautiful hill, the
top surmounted by a pa, in the midst of a lonely and
extensive plain, covered with plantations of Indian
corn, Kumara and potatoes. This is the principal
inland settlement, and, in point of quiet beauty and
fertility, it equalled any place I had ever seen in
the various countries I have visited. Its situation
brought forcibly to my remembrance the scenery around
Canterbury.
We found the village totally deserted,
all the inhabitants being employed in their various
plantations; they shouted to us as we passed, thus
bidding us welcome, but did not leave their occupations
to receive us. To view the cultivated parts of
this country from an eminence a person might easily
imagine himself in a civilised land; for miles around
the village of Ty-a-my nothing but beautiful green
fields present themselves to the eye. The exact
rows in which they plant their Indian corn would do
credit to a first-rate English farmer, and the way
in which they prepare the soil is admirable.
The greatest deficiency which I observed in the country
around me was the total absence of fences; and this
defect occasions the natives a great deal of trouble,
which might very easily be avoided. Hogs are
the principal part of their wealth, with which, at
all times, they can traffic with vessels touching
at their ports. These animals, consequently,
are of the utmost importance to them; but during the
growth of their crops, the constant watching the hogs
require to keep them out of the plantations consumes
more time than would effectually fence in their whole
country; but I have no doubt, as they already begin
to follow our advice and adopt our plans, they will
soon see the utility of fencing in their land.
I have at various times held many conversations with
different chiefs on this subject, all of whom have
acknowledged the propriety of so doing.
A few miles after leaving this beautiful
village we came to a spot covered with heaps of cinders
and hillocks of volcanic matter. I found all
these hillocks small craters, but none of them, burning;
and for miles our road lay through ashes and lava.
These fires must have been extinguished many ages
since, as there is not the slightest tradition among
any of the natives of their ever having been burning.
After passing over this lava, our
journey lay through a very swampy country, intersected
with streams. I got completely wearied with stripping
to wade through them, so that at length I plunged in
clothes and all. At the close of a most fatiguing
day’s march, we arrived in sight of the bay,
having travelled over an extent of about fifty miles
since the morning! No canoe being in sight, and
we being too distant to make signals to our brig,
we had to pass another night in bivouac on a part
of the beach called Waitangi; and as it did not rain
we slept pretty comfortably. The next morning
I procured a canoe, and went on board our vessel.
The day following the brig took her
final departure from New Zealand, and we bade farewell
to Captain Kent. We now formally placed ourselves
under the protection of King George, who seemed highly
pleased with his charge; and in a few days three good
houses were ready for our reception one
for ourselves, a second for our stores, and a third
for our servants. But our pleasant prospects
were soon obscured by a circumstance totally unexpected,
which placed us in a most critical situation, and which
we had every reason to fear would lead to our total
destruction.