deceitful. He does not, like our American
savage, foster a spirit of secret revenge, but when his enmity is
aroused it is openly displayed and exercised, man-fashion. This has been
a tribal trait with the Maoris for centuries. Before declaring war the
Maori always gives his enemy fair notice. But for ages he has been
accustomed to go to war upon imaginary grievances; or, to put it more
clearly, his great object was to make prisoners, and when made, to cook
and eat them.
The early Maoris, even so late as sixty years ago, looked upon war--what
we should call civil war; that is, fighting one tribe with another--as
being the only legitimate object of life. No two tribes, however nearly
allied, were proof against an ever present liability to fall out with
each other and engage in internecine strife. An authentic anecdote was
told to us illustrative of this propensity to fight where no principle
whatever was involved. A certain chief of a tribe living near Rotorua
received a message from a neighboring chief which he construed into an
insult; and he indignantly declared that the sender would not have
ventured upon such a message had he not known and counted upon the
superiority of the weapons of war which he possessed, which, it seemed,
embraced a number of European fire-arms. When this imputation of
unfairness and cowardice came to the ears of the first chief, he divided
all his weapons into two lots, and sent for his rival to come and choose
between them. This done, of course there was no further excuse for not
fighting. The tribes fought a long and bloody battle, followed on both
sides by a great feasting upon each other's prisoners! Here was united,
most indisputably, a spirit of chivalry with that of ferocity. In these
days, however, the Maoris have settled down to a life of quiet, and
could hardly be more peacefully inclined; they are now as lazy and
listless as the Arabs.
It is surprising how well these Maoris got along without civilization.
It is fully as surprising to see how they wilt and fade away with it.
Whether the white man has been upon the whole of any advantage to them
is certainly an open question. They originally possessed a language
composed of a copious vocabulary, and also a complete social system that
answered their purpose. Their houses, rude as they were, kept out the
heat of the summer sun and retained the necessary warmth in winter,--and
this in a degree quite superior to European houses. Their f
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