Read Online Kiwi Wars by Garry Douglas Kilworth - Free Book Online Page B

with them. Jack was not sure why the Maori had put up with them, but he guessed it was because they had not been a huge threat to their way of life. These were pockets of men, living on the edge, and of no great importance. If one or more killed your brother, you took lives in return, but these whalers and convicts were only dangerous when they grew in numbers. And of course they did. They grew until they were unmanageable, and then the British authorities had an excuse to come in and manage them.
    ‘No,’ came the emphatic reply. ‘If we had known what trouble it would cause, we would have wiped them out ourselves.’
    ‘Well.’ said Jack, sighing, ‘it’s too late now – now that gold has been found in South Island and elsewhere you haven’t a hope in hell of getting rid of us. We have to learn to live with each other.’
    ‘You have no right to be here.’
    ‘There’s such a thing as right of conquest, which both our nations recognize.’
    ‘Hmmm,’ Potaka said. ‘If a Maori tribe conquers another Maori tribe and captures his land, the land still belongs to the first tribe.’
    ‘That surprises me, but let me ask you – do you ever relinquish that land to its former owners?’
    Potaka raised his eyebrows. ‘In truth? Not often.’
    It was during one of these conversations that Potaka suddenly stopped in mid-sentence, threw a look backwards into the bush, and promptly disappeared in the opposite direction. A few minutes later a group of soldiers emerged from a hollow. They were led by Lieutenant Burns. King, Gwilliams and Wynter were among them. Burns greeted Jack with a salute and asked him how he did.
    ‘Tolerably well,’ said Jack, who was sitting with his back against a tree. ‘My head was split and my ankle twisted, but both seem to be on the mend now.’
    ‘Thank the great good Lord we’ve found you, sir,’ said Wynter in a voice that hovered on the edge of sarcasm. ‘We thought you was a goner for sure.’
    Jack decided not to rise to the bait. ‘Thank you, Private Wynter, God has indeed received my thanks several times over the last few days.’
    ‘Well, we wrote you off good and proper. I was just sayin’ to the corporal the other day, the captain owns a good six-feet-by-two of New Zealand land now, and is become a lifelong settler. The corp says to me—’
    Lieutenant Burns interrupted him. ‘Will someone shut that man up? Sergeant?’
    Sergeant King rapped the back of Wynter’s skull with his knuckles. ‘Wynter – you heard the officer.’
    ‘Ow! That hurt.’
    ‘Not another word, Private, or it’ll be my boot.’
    Jack was assisted to his feet.
    Burns asked, ‘Shall we make you a litter?’
    ‘That’ll take time and this is hostile territory,’ said Jack. ‘Just give me a couple of supporters. No, not you, Wynter, damn you! Gwilliams and King? Thank you. One either side, if you please. Let’s get back to New Plymouth before I’m banged on the head a second time.’
    They did indeed make it back to the barracks without further incident. Jack learned that they had been sending out search parties every day. A friendly Maori had told the commander of the base that Jack was still alive but in Maori hands. The man did not know where Jack was being held, but the word which travelled through the bush said he was still breathing. King and Gwilliams had not given up hope either and had been persistent in their demands that each new day a party went out over new ground, despite the obvious dangers. In fact the Maori had left them alone, for reasons which did not seem clear but had something to do with Captain Crossman himself. It would seem there was little honour in attacking a party of men who were retrieving a wounded soldier. The Maori were strong on their own code of honour.
    Jack was taken to a regimental surgeon, who took a look at his skull wound and rebandaged it.
    ‘Nasty crack, that,’ said the surgeon. ‘Lucky to be alive.’
    ‘Don’t I know it.’
    ‘Who dressed