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Image by Jim Surkamp Made possible with the generous support of American Public University System, providing an affordable, quality, online education. The video and post do not reflect any modern-day policies or positions of American Public University System, and their content is intended to encourge discussion and better understanding of the past - See more at: apus.edu Dick Morris and Ambrose Ranson TRT: 15:30 youtu.be/oijat-J-6tI African-American Dick Morris and his "Owner" Ambrose Hite Ranson by Jim Surkamp civilwarscholars.com/?p=12254 2864 words 1. Title “Dick” by Major A. R. H. Ranson, Late Major of Artillery, C.S.A. 2. he_was_scullion_in_the_kitchen 3. He_carried_the_wood_and_water When Dick was a little boy, he was scullion in the kitchen. He carried the wood and water for the cook, and scoured the pots and kettles, and turned the spit when the turkey was roasting, dipping and basting the gravy from the pan. I took him out of the kitchen and put him on the box with me to open gates as I drove about the country. I soon found out 4. he_had_a_liking_for_horses that he had a liking for horses, and that he took great pride in his promotion, and gradually I worked him up into a coachman. 5. I_taught_how_to_take_care_of_harnesses I not only taught him to drive, but also had him taught how to take care of harnesses and carriages, and when he grew to manhood gave him the charge of my wife's carriage and horses. The horses were beauties, the carriage and harness were new and bright, and Dick showed his pride in them by keeping everything in order, and never turned out without 6. seeing_that_everything_was_bright_and_would_shine seeing that everything was bright and would shine and glitter in the sun. But the glories 7. Dick of that time were passing away from Dick. When the war came the carriage rested in the carriage-house, the horses were taken by the Yankees, and Dick became my servant in the 8. Dick_became_my_servant_in_the_army army of the South — a gentleman's gentleman, as he called himself. He was captured twice with me by Union forces, and each time refused the freedom which his capture gave him. Once I discharged him for being drunk. Think! Discharging a slave! It was at Chattanooga, and Dick hung around headquarters for several days and was very unhappy. Finally he came to me with a Bible in his hand and said, "I want to swear on this that if you will take me back, I will not drink a drop during the war." He took the oath and kept it faithfully to the end, at Appomattox. 9. When_I_was_captured_at_Rich_Mountain 10. When_I_was_captured_at_Rich_Mountain When I was captured at Rich Mountain I was ill, and was sent to the Federal hospital, an immense tent. I had not fully recovered when we evacuated our position, and wandering 11. about_the_mountains_in_the_rain_for_two_days about the mountains in the rain for two days and two nights without food had brought on a relapse. And besides enduring the exposure, we had forded the river nine times in the vain effort to avoid large bodies of the enemy's troops. The sand got into my boots, and when my socks were taken off, the skin came off with them. I was a pitiable object. Dick stuck to me. He was free now to go where he pleased, but he never left me. He was by my cot all day, kept off the flies from my raw and skinless feet, and did what he could to alleviate my sufferings. 12. At_night_he_crept_under_my_cot_and_took_his_only_rest_on_the_bare_ground. At night he crept under my cot and took his only rest on the bare ground. 13. When_I_was_well_enough_to_go_North_with_Colonel_Pegram When I was well enough to go North with Colonel Pegram. I asked Dick what he was going to do, now that he was free. He said that he would go with me. 14. I_will_go_back_to_Miss_Lizzie”_(my wife) 15. I_will_go_back_to_Miss_Lizzie”_(my wife) When I told him that was impossible, he said, "Well, if I can't go with you, I will go back to Miss Lizzie" (my wife). 16. I_gave_him_two_hundred_dollars_in_Virginia_Valley_Bank_notes When he was leaving. I gave him two hundred dollars in Virginia Valley Bank notes (it was before the days of Confederate money), and he walked two hundred and sixty-three miles by 17. way_of_Staunton — to_my_home_in_the_Valley way of Staunton one hundred and fifty, and down the Valley, a hundred and thirteen — to my home in the Valley, and gave my wife one hundred and ninety-six dollars of the money. When I was exchanged, Dick joined me and remained with me to the end. He followed me on to 18. the_field_at_the_battle_of_Murfreesboro the field at the battle of Murfreesboro, against orders, and when I remonstrated he said, "Who's going to carry you off when you’re killed?" The shells were skipping over the ground and bursting about us in a lively way, and I was thinking that I was risking two horses. At last I came upon a little drummer-boy shot through the body, and put him up in front on Dick's horse, and sent him to the hospital, and thus got rid of Dick. Dick never forgot me. The other officers had servants (hired ones), but with them it was "out of sight, out of mind." They came generally when they were called, and not always then. After a long day's march, when the wagons and all supplies were far behind, Dick would come up when we halted for the night, and take my tired horse and leave me a fresh one. He always had in his pocket some morsel of food, if only a dirty piece of bread, for me. 19. By_the_summer_of_1864_General_Lee’s_staff_was_camped_on_the_north_bank_of_Appomattox 20. By_the_summer_of_1864_General_Lee’s_staff_was_camped_on_the_north_bank_of_Appomattox By the summer of 1864 General Lee's staff was camped on the north bank of Appomattox, opposite Petersburg. It was a good camping-ground, and for a long time we enjoyed it, but when the leaves fell from the trees, we found we were in sight and range of the enemy's guns. Before the leaves fell, we found that out. It may have been on information from a deserter, or it may have been our tell-tale smoke, but at any rate, 21. one_morning_the_enemy_opened_on_us one morning the enemy opened on us with great energy and precision. A shell passed through 22. Colonel_Baldwin’s_tent Colonel Baldwin's tent, and he came out with a look on his face as though some indignity had been offered him. But there was no time for explanations. The tents of the medical department were on fire, and there could be no doubt as to the source from which had come the rain of shot and shell which poured in on us, and we lost no time in gaining a position of safety behind some projecting rocks. 23. Dick_was_watering_the_staff_horses_in_the_river When the firing began, Dick was watering the staff horses in the river, sitting on one and holding three by the halter straps. A shell fell in the water near him, and, bursting, threw up a fountain higher than the trees, and one of the horses got loose. We all yelled at Dick to come under shelter and leave the loose horse to follow, but it was useless. Around and 'round he rode in the river, vainly striving to catch the perverse beast, regardless of the shells flying thick around him, churning the water into foam and covering him with spray. 24. “White_folks_gittin’_mighty_careful_of_themselves.” At last he succeeded, and riding leisurely along by our hiding-place, we heard him mutter, "White folks gittin' mighty careful of themselves." During the year I was on duty in Tennessee I went to Richmond, taking Dick with me. I had many commissions to execute for the staff. 25. One_day_I_took_him_shopping_with_me One day I took him shopping with me to carry the many packages. Prices had advanced since I was last there, and the money gave out before I had completed my purchases. 26. drew_from_his_pockets_large_wads_of_Confederate_notes When Dick saw the situation, he drew from his pockets large wads of Confederate notes, and laid them on the counter, saying, "There's plenty of money." I told him I could not take his money. He exclaimed: "Don't I belong to you? Don't my clothes, my money, and everything I have belong to you? I am surprised at you, I am. If you won't take the money, the man can have it," and he thrust his hands into his empty pockets, and walking to the door, looked out into the street. Of course I took enough for my purposes, and, when we reached my quarters, repaid him, and asked him where he got so much money. Oh, he said, that was easy. When last in Richmond, 27. he_had_sold_his_watch_for_two_hundred_dollars he had sold his watch for two hundred dollars. It had not run for two years for him, but he thought perhaps it might run for somebody else. He who bought it was a “fool,” he said, but "thought he was smart." When he got back to the army, Dick invested his money in eatables. When the army was on 28. bought_anything_they_had_in_the_shape_of_food the march, he visited all the farmhouses along the road, and bought anything they had in 29. cabbages 30. chickens the shape of food — apples, potatoes, cabbage, chickens, eggs. When the column halted, he set up shop by our wagon, and the hungry men bought him out at any price he would ask. Once he said he bought a barrel of apples for five dollars and retailed it out at more than one hundred dollars profit. He bought cabbage at ten cents per head and sold it at one dollar a head. Every day on the march he did this, until he was known in the army as a capitalist with thousands of dollars. He was very ordinary-looking, short, thickset, strong as an ox; black, with short kinky wool, receding forehead, very small eyes, and a nose so turned up that the nostrils looked like the muzzle of a double-barreled gun. He had one tooth out in front, and when he grinned and his red tongue was thrust into the vacant space of the missing tooth, he was a sight to behold. A habitual frown wrinkled up his forehead and gave him a forbidding look, but when he smiled, his face lighted up in a wonderful way. Take him altogether, Dick was certainly no beauty, but beneath his ugliness, there was a faithful heart which redeemed him in the eyes of those who knew him. I, for one, never saw his ugliness unless some one reminded me of it. 31. Dick_was_a_horse_doctor 32. Dick_was_a_horse_doctor Besides being a trader, Dick was a horse-doctor, with a large and lucrative practice. He cured scratches at ten dollars a head for soldiers, and up to fifty dollars for a general. Once when I was absent from the army Dick was up for stealing. He defended himself, making, I was told, a very effective speech. 33. He_said:_”I_don’t_steal,_I_don't He said: "I don't steal, I don't. I has no cause to steal! I got more money than I know what to do with [and he pulled out his wads of it]; then what am I going to steal for? I forgot! There is one thing I will steal for — my master's horses. If the Quartermaster won't give me the feed, then he got to look out, for I’m going to steal it sure, and I’ll tell him so to his face [the Quartermaster was on the court}. And I would steal for my master if he needed it, but he don't need it. But I won't steal for myself, 'cause I got no cause to steal. Now I’ve told you the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God." And he was acquitted by unanimous vote of the court martial, all of them laughing, and Dick grinning, with his small eyes nearly closed, his double-barreled nose leveled at them, and his red tongue protruding through the aperture in his white teeth. 34. When_the_army_surrendered_at_Appomattox 35. there_was_a_"nice_yeller_gal”_he_would_marry When the army surrendered at Appomattox, Dick asked me if I could spare him until he could go back to Petersburg with General Lee. He said there was a "nice yeller gal" in Petersburg, and that he would marry her and bring her home with him, so that "Miss Lizzie' would have somebody to wait on her. He had been taking care of the General's horse, "Traveler," on the retreat from Petersburg, and of course I told him to go. General Lee's servants had deserted during the retreat. About three months after I reached home I had a letter from an officer I had known, telling me that Dick was in Petersburg and wished to come home, but had no money. The days of Confederate dollar were over, and Dick's thousands would not buy him a breakfast. I sent the money, and in four days Dick appeared at the farm, minus the wife. 36. He_remained_with_me_about_a_year He remained with me about a year, but he was but an indifferent hand for a poor man trying to farm. He might have done well as a coachman, but even that is doubtful, because he had taken to drinking again, and being free, I could exercise no control over him. At last I determined to part with him. One day when he was perfectly sober I told him I thought we had better part, that I wished we might do it as friends, but feared that some day I would lose my temper. He agreed with me, and we parted in the most friendly way. 37. Some_years_after,_I_moved_to_Baltimore Some years after, I moved to Baltimore, and then saw Dick once a year, when I visited Charlestown on business relating to settling up my father's estate. On each of these visits I saw that Dick was degenerating more and more. He was always overjoyed to see me, but insisted on my taking him to Baltimore with me. I explained that I was living in a small house and on small means, and there was no room for him, nor anything for him to do, as I had no horses. 38. I_was_walking_across_to_the_courthouse,_when_I_met_Dick The last time I saw him was in 1885, twenty years after the end of the war. I had gone to Charlestown, and after breakfast the next morning I was walking across to the court-house, when I met Dick in the middle of the street. He rushed at me and, taking me in his arms, lifted me and held me high in the air. I begged him to put me down — everybody was laughing. He said, "I got you now, and I ain't going to let you go until you promise to take me back to Baltimore." Of course I could not take him. About a year afterward I heard that he was dead. Poor Dick! 39. Poor_Dick! Today in 2014 in the Jefferson County Courthouse deed room, where all the original record 40. there_is_only_one_man books are, there is only one man, listed as being black who died in the period from 1885-1889 inclusive. This man listed in the record books died August 9th, 1889 of consumption. He was forty-nine years old. His name was Richard Morris. Poor Dick. 41. Courthouse today
Mapoutahi Pa (Goat Island Blueskin Bay)
Image by Alpat The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 13, Issue 11 1939 Mapoutahi Pa (Goat Island Blueskin Bay)The Massacre at Mapoutahi Pa The Story of a Southern Maori Inter-Tribal War Before The Coming of the Pakeha (By R. K. McFarlane.) Legend and tradition have enriched the North Island of New Zealand with a wealth of knowledge concerning the history of the Maori before the advent of the white man. On the other hand there is perhaps not so much tradition connected with the southern Maori which enables us to follows his doings before the pakeha came. This is due chiefly to the fact that the Maoris colonised the southern part of New Zealand a long time after their first arrival, and then only very sparsely on account of the more rigorous climate. Then again, it is on record that the southern Maori was several times almost exterminated by his overpowering northern brother. Although little Maori history about Dunedin is known, tradition has recorded for us two outstanding episodes. Both are tragic—one, a tragic romance on the coast near the Taieri, the other a tragic massacre, also on the coast about fifteen miles north of Dunedin. It is the latter which I propose to relate. From two sources only could I get information about this intensely interesting history. The first was a brief account in a small hand-book entitled “Dunedin and its Neighbourhood,” published in 1904—the other a newspaper article of 1929 regarding research carried out among the Maoris concerning Mapoutahi Pa. The latter sums up very well the difficulties of acquiring information, as the old Maori is passing on:— “There is much which remains to be told concerning the history of the Maori Race in Otago and with the passing of the years traditions as they relate to historic incidents are becoming more and more extinct … however it is possible to trace the history of Mapoutahi Pa from the tradition handed down from generation to generation.” Soon after leaving Purakanui station the traveller by train northwards from Dunedin sees from his window as the train winds its way round the precipitous cliff face a green and picturesque little island almost completely surrounded by steep cliffs, and lying close to the long stretch of white sand washed by rows of creamy breakers which is Purakanui Beach. As the panorama unfolds it can be seen that this so-called island is really a small peninsula connected to the high cliff of the mainland by a small isthmus three or four feet wide and a few yards long. On one side of this neck of land is a little golden half-moon beach, while on the other side the sea rushes in with a turbulent swell threatening to undermine the narrow pathway. On the slopes of the “island” itself long green grass sways in the sea breeze, while the leaves of the numerous cabbage trees rustle continually as if mournfully trying to tell the story that exists beneath their roots. “There is nothing to suggest the tragedy of which it was once the scene, yet these green slopes once ran red with blood and the yells of the victors and the vanquished could have been heard above the noise of the surf that laves its rocky base.” Goat Island it is called, no doubt because its outline bears some resemblance to the head of a goat. There in the 18th century stood a fortified pa—Mapoutahi Pa. Some six or seven generations ago a chief named Taoka or Taonga lived with his people in a kaika near Timaru. As was customary at times he set out with a small party to visit his cousin, Te Wera, of Ngatimamoe, who had a large pa at Karitane Peninsula, or Huriawa. After enjoying Te Wera's hospitality for three days Taoka set out with his host, who it might be mentioned was a man of very fiery temper (he had killed his own wife—a princess of the Kaitahu) to visit another relative, Kapo, in Mapoutahi Pa, at Purakanui. While staying here these two—Te Wera and Taoka—as relatives often do, had a heated argument which developed into an open quarrel, resulting unfortunately in Te Wera killing Taoka's son. Taoka vowing vengeance returned to Timaru, gathered all his fighting men about him and laid siege to Karitane Pa. For twelve long months he waited, but only once did any of his men gain entrance—several climbed up a blow-hole into the pa and stole Te Wera's god-stick. Next day Te Wera saw them doing a haka and, noticing the loss of his god-stick, induced his tohunga to chant for its return, whereupon it came flying back through the air to him. Unable to sack the Karitane Pa, whose massive entrenchments remain to-day, Taoka went home but came back again the following winter and this time made to attack the Mapoutahi Pa whose chief, Pakihaukea, was a close ally of Te Wera. After besieging the pa for ten days, since both the invaders and defenders were wary, Taoka, thirsting for the blood of his foeman and seeing a snow storm approaching, decided that the hour for revenge had come. Snow fell for many hours. That night, with the snow eighteen inches deep and all the hillside quiet he sent out a scout to ascertain if the palisade were defended. The scout returned to say that it was fully guarded. Not satisfied, Taoka himself crept silently to the palisade and discovered that the supposed guards were merely dummies hanging from the palisade and moving occasionally as the wind caught them. The page 44 besieged natives in the pa had committed the same human error which many besieged peoples in European and ancient history had done. They had thought themselves secure within their walls and had relaxed guard. Taoka and his men silently scaled the palisade and cautiously arranged themselves among the whares. Suddenly the blood-curdling war-cry of the invaders roused the sleeping natives and, dazed by sleep, as they stumbled from their whares, they fell victims to the weapons of the enemy. Altogether, 250 were mercilessly slaughtered, and only one or two escaped by rushing to the cliff edge and throwing themselves 60 feet or 70 feet into the sea. As day dawned the rising sun revealed a ghastly sight. The dusky bodies of the victims had been piled in a huge heap and covered in places with a mantle of snow they resembled a huge pile of wood. So they named the place Purakanui, meaning “a large pile of wood.” That was about the year 1750 and to-day, nearly 200 years later, little evidence remains of that terrible massacre save the name of the district and the line of the trenches beneath the palisade in which human bones have been found. Goat Island is now a scenic and historic reserve under the administration of the Otago University Museum, where there is a model of the “island” and the pa. To-day as the holiday maker wanders over its sunny slopes or fishes from its craggy rocks or shouts as he plays in the surf, he does not think much of its tragic history—it would seem absurd. But as night falls and the rising moon casts long dim shadows of the rustling cabbage trees across the grass it almost seems that one can hear sad cries above the moan of the surf Traditions and Legends. Collected from the natives of Murihiku. (Southland, New Zealand) H. Beattie Volume 25 1916 THE COASTAL WARFARE. The Kai-Tahu, who came down the coast, distinguished themselves by fighting one another. It is very difficult to straighten out the narrative of that warfare, but here it is as well as I could disentangle it. Taoka is often called Te Wera's uncle, and then again they are termed cousins and sometimes brothers—in any case the ties of blood should have knit them together, instead of which we find them usually at loggerheads, and frequently fighting in deadly feud. It has been mentioned before that there were two chiefs named Moki. The first was the son of Tuahu-riri, and has been mentioned already, but the second Moki, the son of Te Rua-hikihiki, now comes into the story. Te Rua-hikihiki married two sisters, and by the elder one he had Te Matauira, Moki and other sons, and Uritoko, a daughter; and by the younger one he had a son, Taoka. This last named chief set out from Kaiapoi with the intention of vanquishing the Kati-Mamoe down the coast, and he built pas at O-taoka, in South Canterbury, and at Katiki, in North Otago, and there we will leave him for the present. Moki lived with the Kati-Mamoe people at Pukekura (Otago Heads). His child died, and to “pay for it,” as the narrator expressed it, he sent out a small party under Kapo to kill someone as utu. Te Wera and Patuki had a sister who had married Te Rehu, who lived at Pu-rakau-nui, and they were on a visit to her from their pa near Wai-koua-iti. They were sitting in Te Rehu's whare one evening, when Kapo stole up to the building and hurled a spear through the - 16 little window. Te Rehu ducked, and the spear struck and killed his father, whose name the narrator could not recall. Kapo's men surrounded the whare and waited for daylight. It was a very dark night, and Te Rehu burrowed under the wall and escaped with the intention of going to Wai-koua-iti for help. Te Wera and Patuki would not run from a foe so they remained behind, and Te Wera repeated a long karakia. He got through the first half of it fluently, but the second half was very halting. Again he tried with the same result, so they knew that one was to be killed and one escape. Just before it was daylight they pulled back the door suddenly and made a dash for it. Patuki, who was in advance, was killed, but Te Wera had a marvellous escape and rushed to a waka-hunua (double canoe) and dodged under the platform and dived. He kept under the water a long time and covered a good distance. When he was safe across on the other shore he called out to the war-party to be alert, to sleep with their wives and feed their children well, for he was coming to avenge. Patuki. Te Wera made straight for Pa-katata, on Huri-awa peninsula, and found that Te Rehu had got there shortly before, and the people were lamenting for Te Wera and Patuki. In revenge for Patuki's death Te Wera sailed round into Otago Harbour, and surprising some women getting whitau (flax), he slew them and cut off their heads. The canoe then went under Pukekura pa, and the heads were held up to the view of the inmates. TAOKA VERSUS TE WERA. Having thus squared accounts with the Pukekura people, Te Wera desired to make peace with Moki, and he asked Taoka to come and make the negotiations. Taoka, who was then at O-tipua, in South Canterbury, went to Pukekura, and made a fairly lengthy visit there, after which he canoed to Timaru, and never went near Te Wera, much to the latter's annoyance and disgust. Te Wera went to make peace himself, but his good intentions were not carried out. While he was talking before Pukekura, a man named Te Taoho amused himself by throwing small sticks at the visitors. Te Aruhe, the hot-headed son of Te Wera, said, “We are not children to let sticks be thrown at us,” and started hostilities. As soon as the struggle commenced Te Wera killed Kapo at once. Te Taoho escaped, and will be mentioned later on. One of the few men who was saved of those at Pukekura, was Moehuka. He did not like the look of things when the visitors appeared, and retired to the top of a hill near before the fight began, recognising that discretion was the better part of valour. The narrator could not say whether Moki was killed here or not. During the slaughter of the people of the pa Te Wera saw a small boy, named Taikawa, and spared his life. This Taikawa comes into the history later on. After this killing, Te Wera went back to Pa-katata for a - 17 while, and then to Timaru to see Taoka, but found that the latter was away at O-tipua. Taoka's son, Roko-marae-roa, was at Timaru, however, and Te Wera killed him in retaliation for the trick Taoka had played on him. He sent two chiefs (whose names the narrator had forgotten) to tell Taoka that he had killed his son. He thought that Taoka would kill these two men of rank to equalise the killing of his son. Taoka was not at home when the two chiefs called, so they gave Taoka's wives the message, and set out back to Te Wera. Night overtaking them they camped on the beach. When Taoka returned to his home towards evening and was told the news, he was very wrathful, and set out in pursuit of the messengers, but he missed them in the darkness and they got back safely to Te Wera, who, with his men, withdrew to the strong fortress at Pa-katata. A MEMORABLE SIEGE. After the slaying of his son, Taoka gathered together his forces and besieged Te Wera in the strongly-fortified pa on the Huri-awa peninsula near Karitane and Puke-tiraki. Te Wera had been preparing for such a contingency, as he had laid in a great stock of preserved birds, fern-root and dried fish, etc., and there was a small but permanent spring in the pa to supply water. The story of the siege has been told in print before so I will not serve it up again. Suffice is it to say that Taoka's taua besieged the pa for six months and then had to relinquish it owing to the scarcity of food. This had been their difficulty all along, but by scouring the country they managed to keep their leaguer for half a year, and then had to return home. Some time after this Te Wera and a companion chief (whose name my narrator unfortunately forgot and which I have never seen in print) determined to sail for Raki-ura. They set out in their canoes but a storm arose which Te Wera by means of his karakia was able to overcome and continue his course, but the other chief was driven into the bay under the cliff called Tau-o-Tarawhata. He determined to go no further, and constructed a pa called Mapou-tahi on the small peninsula called Goat Island. Soon after Taoka came down like the wolf on the fold and besieged it. The season was winter, and one wild night Taoka sent his men to see if the palisade was guarded. They reported that it was, and Taoka was so surprised that he went to see for himself, and by careful reconnoitring discovered that the supposed sentries were dummies swinging in the wind. His men quietly got into the pa and slaughtered all the inmates except one man who jumped into the sea and escaped. Next day the bodies of the slain were piled up like a large heap of wood, and since then that bay has been known as Pu-rakau-nui. Lore and History of the South Island Maori by W. A. Taylor 1952 Leaving Old Waikouaiti or modern Karitane we pass south. Okai hau is the outlet to the sea of the Omimi Greek. The full name of the site of the Omimi railway station is Te Mimi e te haki. The location of the Seacliff Mental Hospital is Turau aruhe. Waikoko is the Seacliff Creek. Potaerua represents the bush at Seacliff and the bight on the coastline towards Omimi is Rau-one. Warrington, the aristocratic weekend resort, bears the name of a famous greenstone weapon Aka hau. Whaitiri-paku was the name of an old native village at what we now call Evansdale. The Evansdale Stream below its Kilmog branch, was an eeling place called Wai moi (sour water). The streams entering Blueskin Bay travelling south were the Totara, Waiputi and Waitete (the latter erroneously spelt Waitati). Waitete means "bubbling water", and no one who has lived alongside its course would question the translation as being truly descriptive. The Orokonui Stream drains the northern slopes of Mount Mopariui entering the mouth of the Waitete not far away from the Orokonui Mental Hospital. Blueskin was the name of Waitete in the early days. The early settlers named it such after a well-tattooed Maori called Te Hikututu, whose nickname was Blueskin. A Ngai Tahu chief named Tutakahikura visiting Southland, coveted the wives of a Ngati Mamoe chief named Tutemakeho when the latter chief was away foraging, and abducted the women. A chase from Southland resulted, and Tutemakeho fortunately caught up with the abductor at Pae Kohu (place of frogs) or Green Hill on the divide between the Silverstream and the coastal valleys. It was decided by the warriors to fight the matter out in gladiator fashion at Waitete. Tu te makaho won back his wives, taking them back to Otaupiri. A leaderless hapu of the Ngai Tahu returned to Canterbury. Approximately 12 miles from Dunedin is Purakaunui page 120wrongly spelt Purakanui, which boasts a large native reserve, and its native inhabitants, who originally hailed from Kaiapoi, are proud of the fact that they are descendants of Ngai Tahu, who were there long before the fall of Kaiapohia, and are not begotten of refugee stock. Away back about the year 1750A.D. the War God Tu controlled the lives of the inhabitants of Purakaunui. Three cousins of chief rank but with no trace of family affection kept the Ngai Tahu Tribe in almost an unbroken state of strife. Their names were Moki II, Taoka and Te Wera. Te Wera of Huriawa Pa at Old Waikouaiti dwelt for a time at Pukekura Pa at Otakou Heads. When there the paramount chief Tu ki taha rangi died, also Moki II's son. Te Wera was accused of practising makutu (wizardry) on his kinsfolk and killing them. Te Wera fled away to Purakaunui where Te Rehu, his sister's husband held sway. Moki II was not to be outmatched; so he sent a surprise war party to Purakaunui kainga under the chief Kapo. The house of the chiefs was surrounded and most of the inmates slain, including a chief named Patuki. Te Rehu and Te Wera made a miraculous escape, indeed a wailing for their decease had commenced at Huriawa when they arrived. Safe back in his fortress Te Wera waited and gathered together his warriors. He then set out for Pukekura on which he exacted full vengeance. Taoka took up the Pukekura cause and besieged Te Wera at Huriawa. He failed to capture that pa, so he turned his attention later to Mapou tahi on Goat Island Peninsula where the railway skirts the Blueskin Cliffs near the tunnel. When Taoha arrived at Mapoutahi in mid-winter, his scouts found the narrow neck of land which gave access to the pa well guarded. One exceptionally wild night, however, the sentries were withdrawn, and dummies put in their place. The ruse worked until Taoka went forth and did scouting for himself. He discovered the true position and Mapou tohi Pa was stormed. Only a few persons escaped by swimming and scaling the vine ladders on the Blueskin Cliffs which had been used for bird nesting. The name for Goat Island is Mata awhe awhe (dead gathered in a heap), and its isthmus is called after Pakihaukea, its unfortunate defender. The portion of the Blueskin Cliffs nearest to Waitati is Wata awa awa (edge of the valley). The bay east of the peninsula is Paua nui (large ear shell fish). On October 22nd, 1930, Goat Island Peninsula, area 4 acres, was vested as a scenic reserve under the control of the Otago University. Why the Maori people were not favoured with possession is not clear. Near Mapou tahi the canoe of Waiti named Tau a Tara-whata was wrecked a few centuries ago. Mihiwaka (lament for a canoe) is the hill which separates the Purakaunui Valley page break Otakou Mrs Mere Harper—Old Waikouaiti page 121 from Otago Harbour. Aorangi (light of heaven) is the hill across Purakaunui Bay near the site of the old whaling station. Opeke is the foot of Foote's Greek. Ko te wai a pukuraku is a small watercourse near the sand drift to the railway line. Haereoa, Teoti Wahie and Noah were the leading men at Purakaunui in the forties. The present native inhabitants of the reserve are half-castes, being descendants of the old whalers. The Purakaunui Reserve was set aside in pursuance of the infamous Kemp Deed. Near Purakaunui is Long Beach, known as Whare wera wera, which contains a native reserve of a few hundred acres. The original trustees of this poor quality reserve were Tamati Tiko, Te Ati Poroki, Hipa Porekaha, Riki Tuete and Haereroa. The land is of sandy nature, with, however, miniature lagoons through which a very wandering stream passes, and in the days when the Piorakaunui district once held a large native population, provided good eeling places. There is no doubt that the Maoris living between Purakaunui and Otago Heads suffered severely from European diseases during the period sealing ships were frequenting the coast. The cold-water treatment by the tohungas of influenza and measles could only result in one way—death. South of Longbeach is Murdering Beach which should be known by its Maori name of Whare ake ake. On December 24th, 1817, a Tasmanian brig named the Sophia, commanded by Captain Kelly, anchored there to trade with the Maoris. However a man named Tucker was recognised as a person who at Riverton traded in dried Maori heads. Such sacrilege quite rightly brought down on the pakahas the anger of the Maoris. Tucker fell to the blow of a mere wielded by Te Matahaere, as did two or three others. The remaining boatsmen returned to the ship for reinforcements, and in the skirmish the Maoris were defeated, and prisoners taken back to the Sophia, including the chief Korako, a progenitor of the Taiaroa family. The Maoris rallied under the chief Tukarekare, and in canoes attacked the ship, but without success. Korako rejoined his friends by jumping overboard to the canoes. The Europeans then killed their other prisoners, and sailed away to Otakou Heads where they destroyed the native village. The bay south of Whare ake ake is called Kaikai after a Ngati Mamoe man dwelling there in a cave in the early days. The proper name is Takeratawhai. The cave belonging to Kaikai is now used as a sheep pen. A heavy "tapu" rested on Murdering Beach until it was lifted by a North Island tohunga at the request of the Purakaunui Maoris. The three bays south of Purakaunui have been the happy hunting-grounds of curio collectors, alas many not venerating the burial-places. It has been estimated that 3½ tons of worked greenstone has been page 122recovered. In 1912 a large part of this collection passed to British and American museums. In 1926 a curious adze hogbacked with a very narrow cutting edge was found. Mr Washbourne Hunter was the land owner in the early days, and during his time 400 curios were discovered. Two dozen greenstone tikis have been found at Whare ake ake. The late Mr Murray Thomson, who had a weekend house at Murdering Beach, was an enthusiastic collector, and he assisted greatly the archaeological section of the Otago Institute during a fortnight of March 1935, in cross trenching, digging and searching every nook and corner of Kaikai, Murdering and Longbeach, and the chance of finding a good cache of curios is now very remote. Though a "green-stone workers' factory" the meres found have invariably been executed in slaty stone. When Edward Shortland visited Purakaunui in October 1843, the Maori population had dwindled to 32 persons. Pukai-a-te-ao and Kaitipu of the Huirapa hapu had succeeded Urukino in the leadership. When Mantell made his census of Purakaunui in connection with the sale of the Ngai Tahu Block the inhabitants numbered 46. The majority of the people belonged to the Ngai tuna hapu. The Huirapa hapu (mostly females) counted 8 and the Ngati Tuahuriri 2 persons. The few Maoris who now occupy Purakaunui are half-caste descendants of whalers. The settlement is now a popular Dunedin weekend resort. The little fenced-in cemetery on the Purakaunui Spit alone reminds the visitor of the Maori backgroundOld Waikouaiti and Purakaunui are usually by-passed by motorists journeying to Dunedin who travel on the Main Road. The Main Road from modern Waikouaiti to Waitati crosses over the well-known Kilmog Hill, Kilmog being a corruption of the Maori name of the plant Kirimoko known to botanists as Septospermum ericoides, which grows profusely in the locality. Otago Daily Times 29 December 2011 Rakau is the Maori word for stick and pu-rakau-nui means big pile of wood or sticks. About 1750, a massacre happened at Mapoutahi, a fortified pa on the headland near what is now Purakaunui. Two Kai Tahu cousins had "the mother of all scraps" at the pa which resulted in one cousin killing the other cousin's son. The grieving father waited 12 months to exact his revenge. He gathered a war party and attacked the pa for 10 days. That night, with snow lying deep on the ground, his warriors broke through. Dazed from sleep, 250 villagers were killed. Only a few were able to survive by jumping from the cliffs into the sea. Dawn revealed a ghastly sight; the villagers' bodies had been piled into a huge heap. The brown shapes, covered in places with a mantle of snow, resembled a wood pile and the survivors named the place Purakaunui.