Part 2
"Te pig, te Sher----, I mean te Noo Zeelan pig. But te Maori like te prisoner more better."
Although the German officer was not at all satisfied with the result of his enquiries, he made up his mind to treat Henare well, with the object of getting all the information possible from him.
_VII._
EARNING THE V.C.
With their usual lack of humour, the Germans fondly imagined that they would yet be able to get some valuable information out of the "unsuspecting" native of New Zealand; for he seemed so agreeable and talkative! Little did those self-conceited Teutons understand the Maoris!
This being so, Henare was allowed a certain amount of liberty to ramble about within a given area--well behind the lines.
Two weeks after his capture a most astounding thing happened--as if it had been long cut and dried. During a semi-bright moonlight night a British plane made its appearance over the camp, and was being duly shelled. Presently it wavered like a wounded bird, then rapidly descended to a spare piece of ground near where Henare rambled. Hurrying towards it he found that it was not "wounded," but had alighted for a minor but necessary adjustment. As Henare approached, the airman drew his revolver, but the Maori threw up his arms and cried out:
"Hey! Don't shoot! Me te Pritis prisoner."
"Be the saints," came the reply, "Yez don't look much like a prisoner! Phat the mischief are yez doing here?"
"Py korry, you better hurry up--all te Sherman looking for you. I tink you better take me up in te sky, too. I can ride."
With that they both jumped into the plane, fixed the straps, and flew away. Only just in time, however, for bullets and shells soon began once more to liven things up. The plane dived, and swooped, and looped the loop until Henare thought his woolly head would drop off. They then had a safe run for an hour, but just as the aeroplane was crossing the German lines she was winged and had to descend in No-Man's-Land. Enemy searchlights soon discovered where they landed, and shells started to dance and sing all around them. The two men left the machine just before it was blown to pieces. They hid for awhile in a crater, until the welcome sound of a tank was heard. Presently she was seen lumbering along in the moonlight. Henare and the Irish airman made for her with all haste, waving their caps. The tank lurched towards them suspectingly, and then came to a standstill.
When the back door opened a voice called out:
"Weel naw, an' who might ye be?"
The Irishman answered:
"We're just lookin' for a bhuss to carry us back to the loines."
"This wee cabby is no takin' passengers, but maybe ye can squeeze in--for its rough walkin' here."
They had not travelled--or lumbered--far when the old tank tumbled headfirst into a deep shell-hole. With difficulty they all crawled out and had a good look at the undignified position of H.M.L.S. with her nose fast in the mud.
Each one of them said a few simple words suitable to the occasion. Henare's contribution was--"Py cripes! she can buck worse'n te wild Maori hoss."
There was nothing for it now but to walk. The enemy shelling became so fierce that the wanderers separated and dodged along--each man for himself--hiding here and there, and sheltering from time to time in large craters.
Dead and dying men were lying about in all directions--giving evidence of recent heavy fighting. When Henare realized this, he forgot his own danger and set to work carrying wounded men--British and German--to the shelter of a crater.
Searchlights were on him nearly all the time, while bullets whistled past him and shells ploughed up the ground. He still pegged away at his noble work, until a bullet found him as he was bringing in his twentieth man--an English Captain. He had just managed to roll into the crater with his burden and then collapsed. The Red Cross picked them all up the next afternoon.
Henare was in the hospital when he came to. He was staring wildly at the man in the next cot--a big, brown man, bandaged, but grinning away cheerfully.
Yes! it was Wiremu all right. He had finally enlisted and the military training had made a man of him. In a desperate battle Wiremu was badly wounded, and was one of the first men that Henare had carried to the crater.
When Henare had got over the shock of meeting Wiremu, he asked after Kiri.
"Oh, she all right Henare, when I left Noo Zealan. She no forget you. She te brick."
And so, far into the night, the gentle murmur of musical Maori was heard as these two wounded heroes discussed the war, and old time quarrels, and Kiri's loyalty to Henare, and also the good times they themselves would have together in New Zealand, when the war was won.
_VIII._
HOME AGAIN!
It was a very happy Maori soldier who was in London a month later, preparing to go before the King and receive the noble and much-coveted badge of V.C.
When Henare left the kindly French hospital, Wiremu was getting over his wound,--more quickly than he wished, for he had completely fallen in love with Nurse Marie, and was using all the arts and devices known to the civilized Maori, to win the affections of that charming little angel of mercy.
As for Henare himself, he was not again passed for active service, but received orders to return to New Zealand, after he had obtained the highest badge of honour at the hands of the King.
On the day fixed for the ceremony he was all excitement. He put his things on wrong, and had to take them off again; lost belongings, and wanted to fight those that he suspected of taking them.
But the most confusing time was when they were telling him how to behave at the ceremony and in the presence of His Majesty. He couldn't remember for five minutes what he had to say and do.
At last he said to the officer instructing him--
"Py korry, mate, I gettin' too shaky. More better you get te Wikitoria Cross an bring him to me--an I get home quick."
"That would never do, my boy; half the honour is having the medal pinned on by the King himself."
"My wurra, I tink you right. We better go now; King Hori he get too tire waitin' for us."
Though still weak, Henare had lost all his nervousness when they arrived at Buckingham Palace grounds. He watched everything with the keenest interest, and did not hesitate to quaintly express his opinion about anything that took his fancy.
The officers felt a bit anxious when Henare showed signs of talkativeness as the King was pinning the V.C. on his breast, but they could see by His Majesty's pleasant smile that no harm was being done. No one could help smiling when Henare remarked to the King--
"Py cripes, you got te wery fine whare here."
Anyhow, the impressive ceremony passed off without a hitch, and Corporal Tikitanu, V.C., looked every inch a British soldier and hero--admired of all.
The very next thing to be considered was "New Zealand" with all speed.
* * * * *
At last, after an absence of nearly twelve months, into which were crammed the experiences and feelings of years, the Maori brave returned to his native land, bringing with him the fame and the honours he had so nobly won.
The wildest enthusiasm prevailed at the reception in Henare's native village. Maori and Pakeha customs and phrases followed one another in quick succession in the eager desire to express a joyous welcome.
"Haeremai's" were shouted at the returned soldier boy from every quarter of the crowd; vigorous nose rubbing threatened to become serious, until it was relieved by the more European ceremony of carrying the hero shoulder high through the excited crowd. When they reached a flag-bedecked platform, Maori orators poured forth a flood of poetic welcome, until the women broke down and wailed their solemn tangi.
As Henare stood up to reply the ground shook with the hakas and feet stamping. It was a real ovation that the loyal brown-boy received.
For the sake of the distinguished Pakehas present, Henare spoke in pidgin-English. He had often heard about the great Lord Kitchener, so he began by saying:
"Te Pritis soldier no talk too much. He te man of the do things, not t'talk it. T'that why I no got too much for te speech."
He then thanked them all very warmly for the kind and unexpected welcome they had tendered him, and concluded with this:
"Any bloke here want te nice soft job, no good for him go to te Sherman war; more better him stop home wid te mudder. But if all you big fat feller want to be te MAN and te decent bloke, get outer Noo Zeelan quick and help all your mate lick up te Sherman."
Kiri, his faithful Maori maiden, was foremost among those who welcomed him home; and the Rev. Honi Maki celebrated their happy wedding a week later.
Bearing on his body the honourable scars of war, and on his breast the King's acknowledgment of his bravery and loyalty, Henare spent his days going in and out among the Waikatos and neighbouring tribes, telling them thrilling tales of Britain's might and honour; and showing them the terrible need there is for Pakeha and Maori alike to do and dare--for the sake of Britannia, the friend of Justice and Liberty.
WORTHINGTON & CO., PRINTERS, ALBERT STREET, AUCKLAND--5380
"LETTERS FROM PRIVATE HENARE TIKITANU."
By J. C. FUSSELL.
"A very humorous account of the experiences and impressions of a typical Maori soldier on the long journey from New Zealand to France."
--N.Z. HERALD.
* * * * *
"If you can't raise a smile for Private Henare there is a fissure somewhere in your diaphragm."... "It is a quaint and appropriate greeting to send to friends across the seas."
--THE SUN, Christchurch.
* * * * *
"The Booklet will have a large and ready sale because of its decided merit and originality."
* * * * *
"They are splendid, and just the thing for sending to the trenches."
* * * * *
"The letters of the Maori soldier, as he sees active service."
Transcriber Notes:
Passages in italics were indicated by _underscores_.
Small caps were replaced with ALL CAPS.
Throughout the dialogues, there were words used to mimic accents of the speakers. Those words were retained as-is.
The illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up paragraphs.
Errors in punctuations and inconsistent hyphenation were not corrected unless otherwise noted.
On page 24, "villian" was replaced with "villain".
On page 25, "her's" was replaced with "hers".
On page 42, "H.M. L.S." was replaced with "H.M.L.S.".