The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1891-10-13

All the next day l picked my way
over the rocky hills. Water was
plenty, and I had a pipe and tobacco,
SO 1 was not suffering. At night !
camped again in the rain, for it was
the rainy season, and not a day passed
without heavy showers.
The following day at noon I had to
acknowledge that I was lost. I could
not see the sur at all, and to add to my
troubles l broke my pipe.
After this passed a week of suffering.
My tobacco and shoes were both used
up, and my feet were cut and bleeding
from travelling over the sharp rocks.
One day l was struggling along about
sunset, trying to find a sheltered spot
to sleep, when suddenly [ heard a dog
bark close by. In an instant [ thought
of the Maoris, and l rushed on as fast
as 1 could for a few steps; then the
ground seemed to give way under me,
and l felt myself falling.
l had walked over the edge of a
ravine, and I rolled some thirty feet
into a shallow stream at the bottom.
The water was bitterly cold, and I was
bruised from head to foot.
With infinite pain l dragged myself
out of the water, and then l fell sense
less by the side of the stream. There
l remained all night, and at daylight
I was rudely aroused by a chorus Of
wild yells, accompanied by a thrust in
the side from the handle of a Maori
spear.
Gathered about me were fully a score
Ofrepulsive looking natives, their faces
bearing an expression of savage delight
at the prospect of securing the coveted
reward for my capture. One of them
could speak a little English, and, as l
rose to my feet, he cried: Come on!
Come on! Quick! Go ship"
AS I did not move, he prodded me
in the back with his spear, slightly
scratching the flesh. With an oath, !
seized the spear, and wrenched it from
his grasp. Then l dealt him a blow
with the handle that laid him, stunned
and bleeding, at my feet. Thinking I
had killed him, [ placed my back
against a tree and prepared to sell
my life as dearly as possible. But, to
my surprise, the natives did not attack
me. They paid no attention to the
PROSTATE man, but formed a circle
about me, and evidently intended to
tire me out.
I soon came to the conclusion that it
was useless to hold out any longer, for
escape was impossible. So I signifed
by signs my willingness to go with
them. My feet were so sore and swollen
that 1 could scarcely step, and when
they attempted to hurry me 1 swung
my spear about my head. Evidently
they wanted me alive, for they did not
attemp to hurt me.
At last I stopped and pointed to my
feet. I decided that if they wanted
me they might just as we'll carry me.
Finding their yells and gestures had
no effect, they began to jabber in their
own language. I soon saw there were
two opinions expressed. One native
seemed to advise carrying me on a
blanket which he held up, while the
Maori whose head 1 had cracked was
evidently opposed to the plan.
He was evidently in the minority,
however, for the others brought two
long poles and fastened the blanket
between them. No sooner had 1 seated
myself on the blanket than my old
enemy sprang at me again and seized
me by the throat. 1 could not breathe,
and finding I was being choked to
death [ whipped out my sheath knife
and drove it into his naked body. He
gave a long, waiIing cry, and fell on
his back. A few c%onvulsive twitches
and he was dead.
seized my spear and sprang to my
feet. 1 might as we'll die fighting and
a feeling of recklessness came over me.
But they quietly went up to the dead
man, and satisfied themselves that life
was extinct, Then they pointed to the
litter again, and [ resumed my seat.
Toward noon we reached the top of
a hill and my captors pointed ahead.
1 could scarcely believe my eyes, for
there, not five miles away, was the
whaler lying at anchor in MongOnui
harbOr.
1 had tramped in a complete circle
the whole time.
1t wasslow work carrying me Through
the dense bush and over rocky hills,
and night overlook us while we were
vet a short mile from the town. They