Forty Years On The Pacific/New Zealand
ACCORDING to native tradition, the ancestors of the Maori race reached New Zealand many ages ago from a distant land called Hawaiki. Where Hawaiki was, tradition does not say, but that it lay somewhere in the Pacific is certain from the close affinity of the Maori language to that of the other islands occupied by the Polynesians from Rotumah to Easter Island and New Zealand to Hawaii. Possibly it was Hawaii, the language and traditions of the natives of that group having much in common with those of New Zealand. When a company of Hawaiian singers, under the conductorship of George Kai, toured New Zealand several years ago, his troupe received a great welcome from the Maoris, with whom they were able to converse in their native tongue.
It is one hundred and fifty years since Captain Cook first landed .on the shores of New Zealand. Since that time the face of the country has changed more than Cook would have conceived possible in his wildest visions of colonization and settlement. The formidable native population which swarmed along the shores wherever he attempted to land, has dwindled down to a comparatively insignificant remnant of about forty thousand, while the white population numbers over a million. Except in the vastnesses of the King county there is no considerable area of agriculture or pastoral land that has not its field of corn, or its thousands of cattle and sheep. Stations, townships and cities have sprung up where fifty or sixty years ago nothing was to be seen except tussock, fern and swamp land, or stretches of trackless bush. To-day New Zealand can hold its own among British possessions which are considerably older.
The scenery of South Island differs in character from that of Nbrth Island. In the latter, volcanic forces have been stronger and much more recent in their action, and, as a consequence, North Island is the home of boiling springs and other forms of thermal activity. These are very remarkable and have chiefly attracted the attention of travelers who have visited New Zealand. Yet South Island possesses attractions not inferior in degree, if somewhat different in kind. The lakes of South Island are called the "cold lakes," to distinguish them from the "hot lakes" of North Island.
It is of North Island that I shall speak chiefly, because that is the part of New Zealand with which I am most familiar. Auckland is built along the southern harbor, which forms the western extremity of the island—spangled Hauraki Gulf. The site of the city, flanked by suburbs, rises in a long and gradual slope to the base of Mount Eden, a slumbering old volcano from whose easily scaled summit one obtains a most glorious panoramic view. Auckland's surroundings make her one of the loveliest of cities. Nature has lavishly endowed it with her choicest gifts. It is situated on a narrow neck of land, and a canal of about seven miles across this neck from Tamaki to Onehunga would shorten the distance between Panama and Sydney by several hundred miles. It is indented by bays, pierced by estuaries, interspersed with volcanic hills and mounts; and the gulf outside its portals, fringed with sunny little islands, is a dream of delight. From the sea on either coast a cooling breeze is ever present, to temper the ardor of the sun, and the climate therefore is mild knd equable.
Auckland was the New Zealand port visited by the American fleet, on its round-the-world tour, some years ago, and a right good time they had. The city was beautifully decorated, but what impressed Admiral Sperry and Captain (now Vice-Admiral) Grant, chief of staff, most was the floral decoration of the word "Welcome" over an undertaker's establishment, to which their attention was drawn by Sir Joseph Ward, who, with Lady Ward, accompanied them in the first carriage.
The show place of North Island is Rotorua, about two hundred miles from Auckland, where the Government has spent $500,000 in improvements and buildings. There are to be found the only geysers in the British Empire. Other geysers are to be found in the Yellowstone Park, in Iceland and Thibet. Of those in Thibet we know very little, but geologists tell us that the geysers of the States of Wyoming and Idaho are the oldest in the world; that those of New Zealand are the next, in point of age; and that those of Iceland are the least ancient.
Whakarewarewa, about two miles from Rotorua, is a real center of the "wonderland." The first spot to attract attention is the cooking pool, a circular crater, full of boiling transparent water, which the Maoris say is "as deep and unfathomable as a woman's heart." Proceeding, the visitor reaches a running stream and two large pools of warm water which are generally alive with Maori men, women and children, the latter squatting at ease on the brink, ready to dive for coins. Passing on by numerous bubbling mud pots and clouds of sulphurous steam, the traveler approaches the center of this scene of wild thermal activity, and, surmounting a gentle rise, reaches the Geyser Plateau. Here are situated the wonderfully shaped Brain Pot; the Wairoa Geyser, which throws up a perpendicular column of water one hundred and fifty feet; the immense Pohutu Geyser, and innumerable other geysers and quaint wonders.
Many of the hot springs have powerful curative effects, and invalids from all parts of the world visit them. They vary in composition and strength from those strong enough to dissolve galvanized iron to the mildest diuretic, and give, therefore, a fine field for the treatment of diseases. The waters are said to be beneficial in cases of rheumatism, gout, sciatica, lumbago, kidney complaints, and many skin diseases.
I can say for myself that the springs cured me of rheumatism in three weeks, and many other visitors have derived similar benefits. A number of those I met had come there to get their systems purged of alcoholic and other poisons, and when they renounced drink, became new men. Unfortunately, in some cases, the patients felt so happy upon receiving their health, that they could not resist the temptation of having a good time, with the result that soon they spoiled all the benefits they received from the baths, and from drinking the mineral waters. The Waimangu Geyser was the greatest wonder of the Hot Lakes district. When not active it resembled an enormous boiling pit, some acres in extent, which at irregular intervals throws up, to a height of one hundred to one hundred and fifty feet, immense columns of water and stones.
A visit to the ruins of Wairoa Village, destroyed by the eruption of Tarawera Volcano in 1886, will repay the visitor. This eruption killed seven Europeans and over a hundred Maoris, and altered the face of nature for several hundred square miles. The most awful fate was that of eight Maoris who were camped on the little island of Puwai in Lake Rotomahana. This island collapsed in the waters of the lake when the earthquake rift dropped the waters of Rotomahana into the superheated depths below, and the next moment the fragments of Puwai and the eight sleeping Maoris were hurled thousands .of feet into the lightning-split sky, and rained over the land in the destroying showers of boiling mud.
I shall not forget my trip across Lake Rotomahana. A great cliff on our right was steaming from water foot to summit. Thousands of blowholes and boiling jets sent their white clouds into the air. Springs of boiling water lined the shore. As we moved away from the shore and got into one of the hot spots, the water under our boat's keel began to simmer and a hissing, indescribable, broke on our ears. Then we would get into a body of cool water, and a little farther on into another seething place of boil and bubble. Even the most blase of globe trotters among us burst into expressions of astonishment at the many manifestations of weird phenomena which abounded everywhere. The whole district is perhaps the most absorbingly interesting, in its way, in the world.
The Maoris, whose strange habits and customs add greatly to the interest of a visit to Rotorua, are a merry, happy-golucky people, and their cheery salutation "Tena-Koe" (that's you) soon becomes familiar to visitors, as the Maori girls are not sticklers in the matter of introduction. The shallow pools, framed in by slabs and stones and heated by the overflow from some contiguous hot springs, are used by the Maori "wahines" (women) for cooking and laundry purposes. The steam issuing from the numerous fissures is also utilized by the Maoris for domestic purposes, a steam oven or digester being extemporized by placing a bottomless box over the steam-jet and covering the whole with a sack or cloth.
The Maori strongholds were called "pahs," and were fortified stockades. I saw a very good one near Rotorua. Some "pahs" were very extensive; as many as one thousand or two thousand fighting men being in them. As Christianity spread, wars ceased and the fortified "pahs" fell into disuse. The Maoris now dwell at peace in their "whares," as their houses are called, without wall or fence to protect them against the white pakehas. The change from barbarism to Christianity was rapid and complete. From a people addicted to cannibalism and to the worst passions, they became in a few years an intelligent and superior race. On their return home, however, some of the girls who have been sent to boarding schools, after a time resume the tribal dress and habits, but this applies in a measure to aboriginals of all countries.
Tattooing, at which the Maoris were adepts, is becoming a lost art. I have, however, often come across old Maoris with faces like plaques of carved wood. These old Maoris are unpleasantly fond of shaking hands with the white strangers whom they term pakehas and are more affable and courteous than the younger men of the tribe, who are often shy, and reserved, and sometimes sullen. Most of those lack-luster and passive old fellows who sit like heathen idols around the ancient "pahs" will nod their mahogany heads on your approach and proceed to chatter to you as if you understood all they said.
Not the least interesting features of a Maori village are the youths and children. They are full of fun, as indeed are their elders, and chase and tease each other good-naturedly with much shouting and laughter.
The "Tangi," still observed among the Maoris, is a great lamentation on the death of a chief or individual. Women used to lacerate themselves with mussel shells until they became covered with blood. During the touring season, from November to March, the natives give entertainments of dancing and singing in the evening. Generally a dozen or more take part in the "haka," the native dance, which is not unlike the "meke" of the Fijians, and the degrees of modesty vary according to the character of the audiences.
Most of the Maoris earn a living by cultivating the land, cutting flax, digging kauri gum, or working at flax mills. The foods they appear to relish most are eels and potatoes. As a rule, th: men dress as the whites do. The women are fond of bright colors, particularly red shawls. The wealthy natives live in good houses, and some keep excellent buggies, horses and motor cars.
A great many stories have been told about Pelorous Jack, the famous porpoise that used to pilot steamers through the French pass, from Wellington to Nelson. Jack has not been seen since 1913, and his death is presumed. He was of the dolphin variety. Some years ago, unthinking people used to shoot at the creature as it swam in front of the steamers. So, to protect it, the Government passed a measure through Parliament, rendering any person who shot it liable to a penalty of $500. It was the only porpoise in the world protected by law. There was one steamer, the Penguin, wrecked several years ago, that the porpoise would not have anything to do with, and it is generally supposed the reason was that on one occasion he had gotten too close to the hull, and received a bump.
Pelorous Jack was, of course, a great attraction to tourists. It is popularly* supposed that the porpoise, which originally reached the French Pass with a school, was left behind, and becoming acclimatized, gave up the migratory habits of his ancestors. Sailors all over the world knew of Pelorous Jack and disbelieved the story about him till they saw him for themselves. Many a fo'castle fight has taken place as a result of arguments over Jack's habits.
A sailor told me a curious adventure he had with Pelorous Jack. He was sailing in a brig that had been trading in the islands, and had come to New Zealand. They reached the channel which Pelorous Jack frequented, and, there being no tug, decided to beat up "on their own." Pelorous Jack swam around the vessel and then started off ahead, in the center of the channel. When the brig headed on shore, Jack swam back and headed for mid-channel again. Finding his lead still disregarded, Jack began to get very excited and lashed the water, plunging one way and then another. Ultimately, Jack, who had been accustomed to steamers, gave up and left to her fate this unaccountable ship that would not keep in the proper channel. Maybe his heart was broken and the brig's behavior was the cause of Jack's death!
While on the subject of fish, I must not omit a reference to the catching of whales in nets at Whangamumu. The whales as they come to the coast are in the habit of passing through a very narrow passage, with the object, it is believed, of scraping the barnacles off their back by rubbing their bodies against the rocks. The whalers, when a school is sighted, stretch nets across the narrows, and in these the great creatures become enmeshed and easily harpooned.
A unique New Zealand industry is worthy of mention. That is, gum digging. Kauri gum, which is the fossilized resin of the Kauri pine, is found only in the extreme north of the North Islands, and for the manufacture of high class varnish it is said to have no equal. It forms one of the greatest assets of the Auckland province and for years has been exported to New York and used in the manufacture of varnish. The equipment of the digger consists of a thii»long spear, one or two heavy spades, and a scraping knife. In former days kauri gum digging was comparatively easy, as plenty of gum was found a few feet under the ground. On some of the untouched areas this is still the case, but virgin fields are getting very rare, and it is now being taken from twelve feet or more under ground. Until twenty-five years ago the gum was produced by British labor and to some extent by Maoris. Then Austrians made their appearance, and are now in such numbers that it is safe to say that more than seventy-five per cent, of the gum is produced as a result of their labor.
Another sample of kauri gum is obtained from the kauri trees in the forest. The tree must be tapped one hundred feet from the ground. The gum oozed out in stalactical form in from three to five months. Upon removing this deposit, the woun J is rescraped and a further flow occurs. The rent charged by the Government is five dollars per tree per annum, and the gum is worth $500 per ton, while gum obtained from the ground is worth $1,250 per ton.
The timber of the kauri tree is suitable for furniture, sleeping cars, etc. One tree has produced 110,000 super feet, and I was informed by F. J. Rayner, D.D.S., who has large timber tracts and mills, that it is worth ten dollars per hundred feet at Auckland. The tree reproduces itself from an apple that upon ripening drops from the branches. Fallen trees do not decay, and scientists claim that some of the trees are three thousand years old.
In proportion to population (about one million), I meet more New Zealanders traveling than people of other countries. It is a rich Island Dominion, but they like to see other countries and enjoy life. They are fond of singing and music, at home or abroad, and assist in organizing concerts nightly on the ocean liners. If one of the vocalists suffers from sea-sickness in the middle of a chorus, he rushes out on deck, flies to the side of the ship and returns to join in the popular "Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond," which is a song I think every New Zealander knows.
