ributed the chief cause of
their ferocity and propensity to cannibalism.

In most uncivilised countries the natives use their arms against the wild
animals of the forest. The dangers and difficulties they encounter in
overcoming them form a kind of prelude to war, and perfect them in the
use of their weapons. The rifle of the North American Indian would never
be so much dreaded did he not depend upon its produce for his
subsistence. I have myself (during my travels through North America) had
many opportunities of witnessing the certain aim they take both with the
arrow and the bullet; while those in the southern parts of that vast
continent, who depend on taking the wild cattle, acquire, by constant
practice, an equal dexterity with the _lassoo_, which those who have not
witnessed it could scarcely imagine possible. The New Zealander, while
handling a musket, is quite in a state of trepidation; and though it is
his darling weapon he seems always afraid of it, and is never sure of his
aim till he is quite close to his object. I have mentioned this fact to
several Europeans who had accompanied various tribes to battle, and they
all informed me they made a sad bungling use of the musket; their aim
would be surer if they had large and ferocious animals to hunt or contend
with. There is another circumstance that operates against their acquiring
skill in the use of the gun: they are so fond of cleaning, scrubbing, and
taking them to pieces, that in a short time the locks become loose, the
screws are injured, and they are soon rendered entirely useless, to the
great surprise and dismay of their owners, who are constantly pestering
the Europeans by bringing them _sick_ muskets (as they call them) to look
at, and put to rights, and are quite surprised that we "cannot make them
well again." They cannot be made to comprehend that every white man does
not know how to make a musket, or, at least, to repair it.

CHAPTER XIX.

ENTERTAINED BY MAORI WOMEN.

On the 24th November we took our departure from the bay, as we had to
return to Hokianga, where we had left our brig; and it was only under a
promise of making a speedy return, and remaining longer with them, that
our savage friends would suffer us to leave them. We expected to reach
the Kerikeri River before night; but in this we were disappointed. It at
length became quite dark; and the ebb tide making against us, rendered
further advance impossible. We had to seek some