Charles Edmund Gibson (1847 - 1939)

CHARLES EDMUND GIBSON

TARANAKI EARLY DAYS

TRIP UP THE PATEA RIVER

Long years ago, when the world was a good deal younger than it is at present, likewise some of the people who still inhabit it; in the days after the great one-eyed chief Titokowaru, flushed with the victory of Te-Ngutu-o-te-Manu and the successful night attack on the Turuturu-Mokai redoubt where "the poor men died in their shirts." had by force of arms driven off the military settlers from their holdings and burnt their homesteads, from the Waingongoro river right down the coast almost to Wanganui, and who in his turn was ignominiously driven back again into the wilds of the bush country beyond the great Te Ngaere Swamp by that political warrior, the doughty Colonel Whitmore, and his brave and trusty henchman, the one armed Colonel Lyons. It was, as I say, after these events, when the persistent pakeha settler was beginning to return and retake possession of this particularly fertile portion of "God's Own Country," that tired and disheartened with the slow results of an attempt to break in a square mile block of stiff, unyielding, clayey, manuka scrub, toi-toi and cabbage tree land, in the vicinity of where Marton is now, I decided to cast in my lot with the pioneers of the Patea district, which at that time included the country from Waingongoro to Whenuakura. So in the month of August, 1869, I rode up the coast from Wanganui, that being the only road at the time, in company with Mrs. James Hirst and my brother John. Mrs. Hirst had a baby in arms at the time, and my brother John and I took spell about with Mrs. Hirst in carrying the baby during that long rough ride. That baby was well known in after years in Hawera as J. W. Hirst, land and commission agent, etc.

The town of Patea in those days, if such a place was entitled to that term at all, was situated at the mouth of the river, on a high sandy point, with sheer cliffs facing the sea on one side and sloping sand hills facing the river on the other. It had been used by General Cameron as a base of operations in the early sixties, being easily defended from attack, and, after him again, by General Chute, in the days when the Imperial Government undertook our little wars for us. The present township had been laid off and surveyed with the rest of the district some years previously, during the occupation by Imperial troops, but, owing to the militant attitude of the natiyes and the unsettled state of things in general in the North Island, had not been sold.

At the time of while I write Major Noake, one of the few survivors of the Balaclava "Charge of the Light Brigade", had been placed in command of the district and had a residence build for him in the new township. Quarters had also been built for the small detachment of armed constabulary stationed there, likewise for hospital, Government stores' and offices, etc., but all of a most primitive, inexpensive and temporary character, and were the only buildings in the present township until after the sale, which took place (from memory only) during the first few months of 1870. The distance between the old and the present township is about a mile, more or less. The small steamer that traded between Patea and Wanganui at the time used to unload a short distance inside the mouth of the river, and the cargo was hauled up the steep sand hills by means of heavy horse teams and drays to the town above. The town itself consisted of rough, corrugated iron structures, about eight or ten, or perhaps twelve in all, built fairly strong to withstand the westerly gales they were constantly exposed to from the sea, and running in a row along the brow of the sand hill with their fronts facing the river and General Cameron's old camping ground in the rear, with his .old redoubt already half gone below the cliff, which went to show the rate at which erosion of the coastline by the sea was taking place. Most, if not all, of these buildings were occupied as business premises by men who had in view the approaching sale of the present township, a goodly percentage being in the liquor trade. My brother John, who had been in charge of the commissariat contractor's store—Edward Lewis and Co., well-known Wanganui merchants at the time—was amongst the number awaiting the sale, for the- commissariat contract drawing to a close, and he had the option from Lewis and Co. of taking the store over at the termination of the contract, and starting in business from own account in the new township after the sale. When the sale did take place he was successful in securing the section he wanted, and lost no time in moving building ,and stock up from the old township to the new.

It was about this time that the flaxdressing industry had started in New Zealand, and the Government of the day where giving every encouragement to get it firmly established. The district in those days, from one end to the other, it was a wilderness of fern, flax, and tutu bushes, and the flax was noted for its quality, especially about Manutahi and Kakaramea. To give the industry a start the Government offered as an inducement the free use of a section of land at Kakaramea (200 acres, I think) to anyone willing to make the venture, the conditions being that if so many tons of exportable flax were manufactured within a stated number of years the land would become the property of the manufacturer. The inducement was considered good enough to immediately proceed to form a company on, the directors of which soon got going by calling tenders for fencing in a portion of the property with a ditch-and-bank fence. Having nothing to do at the time, I tendered for the job and got it. I was not without a mate, for my younger brother Arthur had followed in my footsteps and migrated from Tutaenui (now known as Marton) to this land of promise. 'The fencing provided a winters job for us, and was no sooner completed than the directors called for tenders for clearing of twenty or thirty acres of the fern and tutu that was growing on it. Being on the spot, and having built, ourselves a comfortable little toi-toi hut, we put in a tender and succeeded in getting the job again. We took on another hand, and completed the job in time to allow Messrs John and James Laird, nurserymen, of Wanganui, with whom the directors of the flax company had arranged to plant the clearing with the best species of flax plants for dressing, to proceed with their work. Here again we were in luck's way, for the Laird Bros, sublet us another good contract, to dig the holes for them to put the flax in. This we did while James Laird and his men with horse and dray went round the adjacent country selecting the particular plants required. The holes had to be dug a certain size and depth, in rows a certain distance apart, and a certain distance apart in the rows. So far the directors had done well for the plants grew and thrived remarkably, but the after-story of the company's failure would be too long to detail here; suffice it to say the conditions were not complied with in the time, the land reverted to the Government, and the company went into liquidation and wound up. Looked at in the present day light on things, perhaps we should not regard this as altogether a misfortune, for had it turned out a success there might have, been a flax-dressing machine on each farm now days instead of a milking machine. What I have written so far the reader may regard as purely introductory to the purport of this article, which was to recount a reminiscence of a little excursion up the Patea River in those early days. This excursion had been under consideration for six or eight months previous to the time of which I write by a party of three, viz., Mr. George Northcroft, my brother Arthur, and myself. Mr. Northcroft was just entering on his profession as a surveyor and was connected with the Government Survey Department of the province. He was a younger brother of the Stipendiary Magistrate of that name, well known in years throughout- these districts. Mr. Northcroft some few years later migrated to Transvaal S.A, since when I have heard nothing of him and know not-whether he be dead or alive.

What I have to relate of our excursion up the river is taken from an old letter written by myself, dated November 16, 1870 —54 years ago— and written shortly after our return. The letter was written to a younger sister in Rangitikei, and was considerately returned to me after her death ten years later. The text of the letter will be adhered to as closely as possible, and by cutting out such portions as are not relevant, and making such alterations as here and there necessary, the letter may be read as follows:

"Since Major Noake’s military expedition up, the river in June, 1569, when the old chief Tauroa and his hapu were taken prisoner and sent to Dunedin for three years, no white man has ever been up the river beyond twelve or fifteen .miles from the mouth. Being anxious to know what the interior of the country was like, Mr Northcroft, Arthur, and myself had made up our minds to have a little expedition up the river on our own, account, and circumstances seemed now favourable—Mr Northcroft with nothing to do at the time, Arthur and myself with two good contracts finished and in good trim for a holiday after 3 some months of very hard work, and the summer just setting in—we decided to embrace the opportunity and set about making our preparations forthwith. Out of the fleet of Maori canoes that were tied up on the, mud-flat of the river we got permission to select one suited for our purpose. We got a baker to bake us a week's supply of biscuits and provided ourselves with whatever other necessaries we thought would be required. We borrowed a couple of revolvers and ammunition, and Arthur took his rifle. We thought it better to go armed, for it was the general opinion in Patea that there were rebels still up the river.

Well, on the lst of November we started and paddled our canoe up stream for about 28 miles from the mouth. The tide runs up for about twelve miles after which the river narrows considerably, keeping an average width of about a chain as far up as we went and running through very pretty scenery. The river is very tortuous in its course, in no ease running more than two hundred or three hundred yards straight ahead, and very seldom that. A person might fancy himself on a narrow lake, locked in by gigantic hills covered with dense bush, with here and there the face of a naked cliff showing through the trees. At every bend of the river the spur of the hill generally terminates in a level piece of ground covered with koromiko or other light bush, and varying in extent from an acre or two to five or six, and in some cases more. A great many of these beautiful spots have been cultivated by the Maoris and fruit trees planted on them. There is an eel-weir at most of these places, which is constructed by driving a great number of long, stakes right across the river, and binding them together at the top, leaving narrow passages here and there in which they place their eel-baskets. Some of these eel-weirs are very difficult to get through, the water rushing through them with great force. The Maoris' whares are still standing at these places, but most of them the wild pigs have taken possession of. At one eel-weir a long way up the river we found a number of first-class eel-baskets - nicely stowed away in a whare. We just left them as we found them. About twenty miles up the rapids become very frequent; they are very dangerous, and very difficult to get either up or down, rushing, and foaming over tremendous rocks and snags. Our first day out we nearly came to grief in one of them; our canoe getting almost broadside on, we were awashed down with great force against a large rock. Arthur's paddle, coming in contact with it, was snapped in two, but we managed to hold our canoe, and after another hard struggle got through into still water, after which we proceeded for the rest of the day without further mishap, and. brought our canoe inshore for the -night as the sun was sinking behind the hills. We carried our arms, blankets, and what 'tucker' we wanted up into the bush, and encamped under a large tree for the night. One kindled a fire and got the 'billy' on, another got firewood, and the other gathered fern leaves for our bed. By the time this was done it was dark, so we ate our supper by the light of the fire and discussed the various events of the day, the distance we had come, which we estimated at about twenty-eight miles, our chances 'of meeting Maoris on the morrow, what we should do in case we did, and whether we should meet with worse, rapids than those we had passed through. The evening went by very pleasantly this Away, chatting and joking and singing songs, taking care not to kick up too much noise in case of alarming our Maori friends if any happened to be within earshot. At last, tired out, we rolled into our blankets and were soon in the land of dreams to the tune of " more-pork,-more-pork," echoed from all parts of the bush. I was first to awake next morning, and, sitting up, saw the other two were asleep with their heads under the blankets, so I began to make a noise such as pigs make when they are bailed up by a dog. You should have seen how they started up, thinking they were beset by a herd of wild boars. How I did laugh over it!

"After breakfast Arthur managed to mend his broken paddle, by strapping it up on each side with a piece of rata vine and some wire nails we had fortunately brought with us. We then got everything on board again, and lashed all safe to the canoe in case of an upset, and placing our revolvers close to our hands in case we should have to use them, we started once more. We found the river ran Swifter and the rapids became more frequent as went on. About ten o'clock we came to a most formidable-looking rapid, but we found a narrower side passage through the rocks, up which we managed to get our canoe, and then on round the next bend, where we halted to rest and look at a seam of very fine gravel we saw on the bank there. Starting once more, we had not proceeded many chains when I chanced to look up, and there, just above a slip that had been washed away by the river, I saw the top of a Maori whare peeping out of the bush. I drew the attention of the others to it, and we put the canoe inshore close under the slip. Arthur was left in charge of the Canoe while Northcroft and I went to reconnoitre. Taking our revolvers with us we climbed the slip to a place where in falling it had left a cliff about eight or ten feet high, up which we found we could not get to but from the position where we stood, on the steep slope of the slip, we could just see over the edge of the cliff where a little distance to our right, the open gable of the Whare with a 'kete' hanging underneath. We began to think on seeing this that the, Maoris must be about. Close to the whare the roots of a tree, that had not gone over with the slip were hanging down, and presented a means of reaching the top, so, working our way along the slip, till we came to the place, I pulled myself up, by them till I could just peep over. I was now close to the whare which was only a few yards away, and could see everything in it, There was no sight of anyone about, so up I clambered and into the Whare. Several ketes full of things were hanging from the roof, and a rough stage had been erected, on which were stored a number of boxes and other things. I called out to Northcroft to come up, that there was a whare full of loot for us, and up he came. We were soon engaged: in ransacking 'ketes' and bursting open boxes with a tomahawk which on hearing Arthur' came up to see what was going on. In one box we found three new white blankets, two rolls of print (about 14 yards in each roll), a new shirt, a new towel, two pairs of men's riding pants, and a purse with a £1 note in it. In one of the 'ketes' we found two very fine Maori mats made of dressed flax; both were unfinished though. The other two boxes and 'ketes' contained a variety of articles, some useful, others valuable only as curios. There were bullets which up to then had not found a billet —powder and shot, pipes ,two frying-pans, Maori books, letters and other papers written in Maori, writing paper, a bull's eye lantern, small bundles of dressed flax, a small 'kete' containing all their fishing tackle, knives, spoons, tools, an old flint gunlock—a regular Captain Cooker—two good tether ropes, a new bridle, a headstall, several bottles full of pumpkin, melon, and calabash seeds, a bottle of wheat, three new hair-combs, a looking glass, a string of rosary beads, a set of Maori womens things, besides other articles too numerous to mention. One thing we found which proved more useful to us than all the rest was a heavy paddle, and it soon had to take the place of the one we had broken. Out of the three boxes, two were very good ones, with locks and hinges, one being painted on it in conspicuous white letters in the name of 'Alexander Mitchell, passenger S.S. Wanganui, New Zealand, Wanted on the Voyage.’

"This Mitchell was a "Kakaramea settler, and occupied the land adjoining the property which we had been fencing and clearing for the Flax Company. His whare and our whare were only about a quarter of a mile apart, and many a long winter's evening we had passed while working there in the genial company of Sandy. We came to the conclusion there and then 'that the box had been looted from Sandy during the war, and you may imagine our surprise on seeing his name in large letters on a sea-chest thirty-five- miles up the Patea river; but on enquiry from him after our return, he told us that he sold it to a Maori two years ago, just before the war.

"Well, after we had packed all the most valuable things into the three boxes again, and stowed them away in the whare, we continued our course up the river until about 2 p.m., when we came to a rapid more dangerous than any we had hitherto passed. There was one passage only, up which we might attempt to get our canoe, and that only a few yards wide, through which the water came dashing and foaming over the rocks and snags, with a roar that drowned our voices. All the other passages were choked up with snags and great trees that had been washed down by the floods. We tried poling our canoe up, but the water was too strong and deep for us, so we undressed, one staying in the canoe, while the other two took a long stout rope, which we had fortunately brought with us, and after fastening one end to the nose of the canoe, made our way over the snags and through the shallows of the rapid to a favourable vantage point up stream, from where, with a long pull and a strong pull, we succeeded in hauling up the canoe while our mate in the canoe kept her clear of rocks and snags during the passage. This bit of business took us about two hours to negotiate, and we thought no small-beer of ourselves after it. Paddling on for another two or three miles we came to the place where Major Noake's expedition came up with the retreating war party and took them prisoners. We would probably not have discovered this spot, but that the sun was getting low and we were on the lookout for a camping place for the night. It was a small bush-covered flat on the river bank, and the rude, hastily-erected sleeping shelters of the Maoris were still there just as they had left them. We camped on the opposite side of the river and passed the night much the same as the previous one, but felt a great deal more assured that there were no Maoris up the river, hot having seen the least sign of their having been recently about. This was our second day out, and we were about about 38 miles up the river.

"Next day we decided to take a trip inland and see what the Country was like away from the river; so, seeing a very high peak some little distance up the river, we took our canoe round the next bend and brought her to shore in a still deep pool. We then took our way up hill through the bush, blazing our way here and there as we went in order to find our way back again. After about an hours hard uphill work we reached what we thought, to be the summit of the hill, but there was still another peak above and when that was reached, another still, and still more after that. But we pushed on, determined to reach the summit, if possible, which we attained after about four hours hard work through the bush. We were now on the watershed between the Patea and Whenuakura Rivers but could see nothing of the surrounding country for the bush, till we managed to climb an old rata by the aid of its vines, when we got a splendid view of the country around us. It seemed to be one chaos of tremendous hills, peaks, cliffs and gullies covered with dense bush, and rising to the height of about 1000 ft or 1200 ft above the river. Mt Egmont in its lofty grandeur rose above all and through two or three openings in the hills we could see the blue Pacific. We had some very pretty views of the river as we ascended the hill. . It seemed like a shining vein of silver, three or four yards in width, winding its way in beautiful curves among the bush clad hills at our feet, which were now radiant in their summer dress of a thousand shades of green, against which the bright; red flowering of the giant ratas, which were now in bloom, stood out in glowing contrast. The wild –flowers of the bush scented the air while the hum of bees and insects intermingled with the twittering of the small birds and the joyous contralto or flute-like notes of the tui, ringing out on every hand with the lazy flap of the kuku (Wild pigeon) as it flew from tree to tree in quest of its seasonable delicacy, or some favourite limb of a rata with its mate, it could sit and bask and prune its feathers in the sun — all seemed to harmonise with the profound solitude of the place. After resting ourselves for a while on the summit, and Northcroft had taken our bearings with his compass, we began our descent, which occupied about two hours, and reached bur canoe tired and hungry. Arthur set to work to boil "the billy,' while Northcroft and I had a refreshing bathe in the river. After satisfying the inner man we went on up the river until 3pm, when we came to another bad rapid, in which our canoe, getting broadside on to the current in our endeavours to get round a, nasty snag, was washed down with great force, her bow striking on one snag and her stern on another, almost upsetting the canoe; but by good luck I managed to free her stem from the snag, when dropped down stream, and we afterwards, hauled her up the rope. We halted here for the night, and as there were signs of rain Northcroft and I proceeded to erect a shelter of nikau palm 3 leaves, while Arthur cooked supper. Rain came down in torrents during the night; but we were pretty; snug under our primitive shelter. This was our third day out and we were now about 45 miles up the river. We now began to think, of turning back, as the river was getting more rapid and dangerous, and we began to be afraid of the rapids, thinking they would be as difficult, if not more so to get down as they were to get up. So we made up our minds that on the morrow we would go up as far as the next bad rapid, and then turn.

Next morning turning out fine, off we went again but only got about five or six miles before we came to another bad rapid so here we stopped, and went into the bush and cut a piece of rata vine, on which we carved our names and the date and nailed it to a conspicuous tree on the riyer bank. We were now about fifty miles up the river and further, probably, than any pakeha had ever been before. It was with great reluctance we now turned to go back. We reached the rapid where we had stayed the night before, and here poor Northcroft came to grief on the very snag on which we had stuck the day before. ' This was a large log running a long way out into the, river, round the end of which we were obliged to pass, but the current, taking a turn almost at right angles round a large snag a little further up stream, washed the canoe down onto this log every time. At length we had recourse to the use rope again to get it out of our difficulty. Arthur went up stream and let her down to where Northcroft and I waited on the log with our poles, ready to shove her off round the end of the log; but Northcroft's pole slipped and he tumbled off the log into the rapid, but fortunately caught hold of the log, which prevented his being washed under and a possible-disaster. I helped him up again onto the log, but we found the force of the current was so strong that we couldn't push the nose of the canoe round the end of the log so we had to alter our tactics. Northcroft now took charge of the rope, and Arthur and I undressed and went into the rapid, and between the three of us we managed to get the nose of the canoe a little bit past the end of the log, and there she stuck with her nose against the end of the log and her stern against the snag up stream and broadside on to the rapid. I now went up stream above the snag and taking hold of the stem, managed to swing myself and the canoe across the deepest part of the rapid, and upon gaining a footing, with Arthur's assistance at the other end, we soon had her clear of the log. I then jumped in, and Northcroft let her down with the rope and brought her up again below the log, where we all-embarked, and off we went again in high spirits. We found it much easier and quicker going with the stream than pulling up against it, and every rapid we passed the subconscious within us gave vent to his excitement in sundry yells and cock crowing and shouts of another mantrap cleared. On we went until the big rapid was reached that took us so long to get up. Here we thought it better not to run the risk of an upset by attempting to shoot the rapid, so adopted the safer course of letting the canoe down by the rope again. This necessitated the getting out into the river of Northcroft and Arthur, while I stayed in the boat and kept her clear of rocks and snags. In this way we cleared the big rapid, all safe, and off we went again, yelling and shouting. If you could only have seen us: three half-naked savages, all ready to take to the water at the shortest notice. It was exciting work shooting rapids and shallows and called for quick decision and nice precision also on the part of the steersman in selecting his course and steering her clear of the many perils ahead. Sometimes they required to be just grazed, in order to avoid others a little further on. One false, move of his steering paddle would find him in difficulties among the huge boulder-rocks and snags that obstruct his passage, and lucky for him if by avoiding Scylla he doesn't run afoul of Charybdis or if the rushing waters don’t get him broadside on and upset his canoe. We shot all the rapids but two but would need I think, considerably more practice at the game before attempting those. We arrived at last at the place where we found the Maori Whare on our way up and stayed there for the night. Thus ended our fourth day out.

Next morning we got the Maori loot aboard and lashed firmly to the canoe, then started off again, intending to reach home, if possible that evening. We were pretty well loaded now and had to be careful in negotiating the remaining few rapids in front of us. We cleared them all, however, in good style, and about 5 p.m. reached Hukatete, a Maori pa, now deserted, on the Whenuakura side of the Patea river, about five or six miles up from the Patea township. Here we tied up our canoe and landed her cargo, leaving it on the river bank for the night, and, shouldering our swags, made off to our whare, about a mile and a half from the river, arriving there about sundown.

Next day spent in carrying the loot from the river to our whare, where we divided the plunder.