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Chapter Two.
Waihoura

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Natives arrive at Mr Pemberton’s camp. – They bring with them on a litter a young girl – Waihoura apparently very ill. – A Doctor is sent for, and a hut is built for her accommodation

“Oh mother! mother! Miss Lucy! Betsy! do look at the strange savages who are coming this way,” exclaimed little Tobias, as he rushed up to the door of the tent the following morning. “I never did see such wild creatures, except once at the fair, and they were white men painted up to make believe they had come from foreign parts. There’s no doubt about these, though.”

Lucy and her companions being thus summoned, hurried from the tent and joined Harry and the two young Greenings, who were standing on the brow of the hill, watching a band of twenty or thirty Maoris, who, emerging from the forest, were coming towards where they stood. At their head stalked a tall savage-looking warrior. His face, as he drew near, was seen to be thickly covered with blue lines, some in spirals, others in circles and curls of various devices. His black hair was gathered in a knot at the top of his head, and secured with a polished bone, while several large rings hung from his ears. Over his shoulders was thrown a large mat cloak, which almost completely enveloped his form. In one hand he carried a musket, more on the present occasion to add to his dignity than for use, as swords were formerly worn by gentlemen in Europe. His companions had their faces tattooed, though in a much less degree than was that of their leader. Some wore merely long kilts round their waists, but many had cloaks of matting. The hair of most of them was cut short, looking like a black mop at the top of their heads. Savages though they looked, they walked with a dignity and freedom that showed they felt their own consequence and independence. They were followed by several women, also clothed in mats, though of a finer texture than those of the men. Their hair hung loosely over their shoulders, and several wore a wreath of flowers or shells, which assisted to keep it off their eyes. Their faces were but slightly tattooed, the chin, and lips only being marked, giving the latter a curious blue look, which Lucy thought detracted much from their otherwise comely appearance. They were walking on either side of a small litter, covered with boughs, and carried by four young men.

The party of natives advanced as if about to ascend the hill; but when the chief saw that it was occupied by the tents, he ordered them to halt at its base, and they immediately began to make preparations for encamping, while the young men were sent off towards the woods to collect fuel for the fires and materials for building huts. The litter having been placed on the ground, the women gathered round it, as if much interested in whatever it contained. The chief himself then approached, and the boughs being partially removed, Lucy perceived that its occupant was a young girl. The chief seemed to be speaking to her with tender interest. At length, on seeing Lucy and her companions watching him, he advanced towards them.

“Oh! Miss Lucy, let’s run away – the savage is coming, and I don’t know what he will do,” cried Betsy, in great alarm.

“I am sure he will not hurt us, from the gentle way he was speaking to the young girl,” said Lucy, holding her ground, though she felt a little nervous.

“He looks terribly fierce, though,” observed Mrs Greening. “But it won’t do to run away, as if we were afraid.”

The chief, whose eye had been fixed on Lucy, now approached her, and pointing to the litter, seemed to invite her to come down and speak to his daughter, for such she felt the girl must be. “Oh miss, don’t go,” cried Betsy. “You don’t know what they will do;” but Lucy, struck by the appearance of the occupant of the litter, was eager to learn more about her, and overcoming any fears she might have felt, at once accompanied the chief.

The women made way for her as she got close to the litter. On it reclined, propped up by matting, which served as a pillow, a girl apparently of about her own age. Her complexion was much fairer than that of any of her companions, scarcely darker, indeed, than a Spanish or Italian brunette. No tattoo marks disfigured her lips or chin; her features were regular and well-formed, and her eyes large and clear, though at present their expression betokened that she was suffering pain. She put out her hand towards Lucy, who instinctively gave her her’s.

“Maori girl ill, berry ill,” she said. “Tell pakeha doctor come, or Waihoura die – pakeha doctor make Waihoura well.” Although the words may not have been so clearly pronounced as they have been written, Lucy at once understood their meaning.

“Oh yes, I will send for a doctor,” she answered, hoping that Dr Fraser, the surgeon who came out with them in the ship, would be found on shore. She beckoned to Harry, and told him to run and bring Dr Fraser without delay. The chief comprehended her intentions, and seemed well pleased when Harry and Tobias, who also offered to go, set off towards the village.

As no one addressed her, Lucy guessed rightly that the Maori girl was the only person of her party who could speak English, and curious to know how she had learned it, she asked the question. “Waihoura learn speak pakeha tongue of missionary,” she answered, “but near forget now,” and she put her hand to her brow, as if it ached.

“The doctor will come soon, I hope, and give you medicine to make you better,” said Lucy, taking the young girl’s hand, which felt hot and feverish. Waihoura shook her head, and an expression of pain passed across her countenance. “We will pray to God, then, to make you well,” said Lucy. “He can do everything, so be not cast down, but trust Him.” The Maori girl fixed her large eyes on her as she was speaking, evidently trying to understand her meaning, though apparently she did not entirely comprehend it.

Savage in appearance as were the people who surrounded her, Lucy did not feel afraid of them, while they evidently regarded her with much respect. Betsy having at length gained courage, came down the hill with Mrs Greening.

“Poor dear,” said the farmer’s wife, when she saw the Maori girl. “What she wants is good food, a comfortable bed, and a little careful nursing. If we had our house up, I’ll be bound we would bring her round in the course of a few weeks, so that that painted-faced gentleman, her father, would not know her again.”

“We would make room for her in our tent,” said Lucy. “Or, perhaps, her friends would build a hut for her close to it; they probably would soon put one up, and it would be far better for her to remain with us than to return to her home.” The chief had been watching them while they were speaking, and seemed to understand that they were discussing some plan for his daughter’s benefit. He spoke a few words to her.

“What say?” she asked, looking at Lucy, and then pointing to her father.

“We wish you to stop here and let us nurse you,” said Lucy, trying still further to explain her meaning by signs. The young girl’s countenance brightened, showing that she understood what Lucy had said, and wished to accept her offer. Perhaps the remembrance of her stay with the Missionary’s family brought some pleasing recollections to her mind.

While they were still speaking, a person was seen hurrying along the somewhat dusty road which led from the village, and Lucy soon recognised Mr Nicholas Spears.

“Has not he come yet?” he exclaimed, as he drew near. “Dr Fraser, I mean. I met Master Harry, and that big lout Tobias. I beg your pardon, Mrs Greening. I did not see you were there, and so I told them I would find him and send him on; so I did, for I understood from them that a princess, or some great person, wanted his services. If he has not come I must go back and hurry him. Is that the princess? She don’t look much like one, however, she may be a princess for all that. Your servant, Miss, and that old gentleman, with the curious marks on his face, is her father, I suppose? Your servant, sir,” he added, making the chief a bow with his broad-brimmed hat.

The chief bent his head in acknowledgment, and seemed somewhat inclined to rub noses with the little man as a further sign of his good-will; but Mr Spears sprang back in alarm, evidently thinking it safer to keep at a distance from the savage-looking warrior; observing, however, the confidence shown by Lucy and her companions, he walked round them once or twice, gazing at them as if they had been wild beasts at a show. As he passed again near Lucy, she reminded him of his promise to look for Dr Fraser, and much to her satisfaction, off he set at full speed.

In a short time the doctor was seen coming along the road, followed by Harry and Tobias.

“Oh, Dr Fraser, I am so glad you are come,” said Lucy. “Here is a sweet interesting Maori girl, and she is very ill, I fear. Can you do anything for her?”

“I am afraid, Miss Lucy, unless she can speak English, or we have an efficient interpreter, there may be some difficulty in ascertaining her disease, but I will do my best.”

“Oh, she understands a little English,” said Lucy, “and seems very intelligent.”

The doctor approached the litter, and stooping down, remained some time by the girl’s side, asking her questions, and endeavouring to comprehend her answers.

“Unless I can have her for some time as my patient, I fear, Miss Pemberton, that I cannot do much for her,” he said at length. “My lodgings are very small, and I suspect that among the settlers there are none who would be willing to receive her.” Lucy then told him of the plan she and Mrs Greening had proposed. “That would certainly afford the best prospect of her recovery,” he answered. “If we can explain that to her friends, perhaps they would be willing to allow her to remain.”

Lucy was very glad to hear this, for she already felt a deep interest in the young Maori girl.

“There is her father,” said Lucy, pointing to the chief, “perhaps you can make him understand what we propose.”

“I will try,” said Dr Fraser, “but, if not, I must get Mr Clifton, the surveyor, who speaks their language, to explain it to him.”

The chief, who had been looking on all the time with an expression of anxiety visible on his stern countenance, now drew near, and with the assistance of his daughter, was made to comprehend what their new friends proposed. He stopped some time, apparently considering the matter, and then having consulted with several of his companions, he returned, and taking Lucy’s hand, placed it in that of Waihoura, as if confiding her to her care.

“But we must make them understand that they must build her a comfortable house,” said Lucy. This the doctor managed to do without much difficulty, and leading the chief up the hill, showed the position in which he wished it to be placed.

The natives, who appeared to render implicit obedience to their chief, immediately went off to cut timber. The doctor, meantime, marked the dimensions of the building, and showed the height he desired to have it, which was nearly three times that of the ordinary native huts.

“We must have a proper door and a couple of windows, too,” he remarked. “The poor girl requires fresh air more than anything else, probably she has been shut up in the smoke and heat of a native hut, and unless we have one of a very different character, she will have little chance of recovery.”

Idle and averse to work, as Lucy heard that the Maoris were, she was pleased to see the rapid way in which they erected the hut. While some dug the holes for the posts, and others cut them down, a third party brought them up the hill. They were evidently surprised at the size of the building, and uttered numerous exclamations of astonishment when the doctor made them understand that it must be in no respect smaller than he proposed. Harry, with James and Tobias, got their spades and levelled the ground for the floor, rendering considerable assistance also in digging the holes.

Among the articles Mr Pemberton had brought were several doors and window sashes, intended for his own cottage. Lucy suggested that these should be unpacked, and a door and two windows be used for the hut.

“I am sure that my father will not object,” she said, “and it will make the house much more comfortable.”

“I wish that all our countrymen had as much consideration for the natives as you show, Miss Lucy,” observed the doctor, “and I feel sure Mr Pemberton will approve of what you propose doing.” The door and two windows were accordingly fixed, the Maoris showing themselves very expert carpenters.

The doctor having seen that the plan he proposed for the house was likely to be properly carried out, returned to the town to get some medicine, while Mrs Greening arranged a comfortable English bed, in which his patient might be placed.

Before nightfall the hut was completely finished. Mrs Greening removed her own bedding to it, that, as she said, she could be at hand to attend to the young native girl; and Dr Fraser having given her some medicine, took his departure, promising to come back, early the next morning.

The chief showed by his manner the perfect confidence he placed in his new friends, and leaving his daughter in their charge, he and his companions retired to the foot of the hill, where they spent the night round their camp fire.

Lucy sat for some time by the side of Waihoura, who showed no inclination to go to sleep; she evidently was astonished at finding herself in an English bed, and watched over by a fair pakeha girl instead of her own dark-skinned people. She talked on for some time, till at length her words grew more and more indistinct, and closing her eyes, to Lucy’s satisfaction, she fell asleep.

“Now, do you go back to your tent,” said Mrs Greening. “I’ll look after the little girl, and if I hear any noise I’ll be up in a moment and call you or Betsy; but don’t be fancying you will be wanted, the little girl will do well enough, depend on that.”

Lucy very unwillingly retired to her tent, and was much surprised when she awoke to find that it was already daylight.

Waihoura, the Maori Girl

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