Family History 4.34

Robinson story

Joshua Caleb's account continues

Farming at Pukekohe East

Near the house we had a pig tethered. In good condition too. But one night he got away into the bush trailing his legrope behind him, and though we hunted everywhere we could not find him. Months later we discovered him minus the leg on which the rope had been, calmly eating our vegetables and stumping along on his remaining three legs.

One wet day some time afterwards while some men were out pig hunting their dogs ran down and killed a three-legged pig, which turned out to be our Stumpy. Word was sent to Father and off we went to get him. When we reached the spot there was another pig smelling round old Stumpy. The dogs gave chase and after an exciting hue and cry the porker was cornered and killed. Alas! This was no wild pig but Mr Morgan's sow Lady Grey. Of course the men were disappointed so Father gave them half of Stumpy, and the other half, which lacked a ham, we carried home for ourselves. No-one could call Stumpy a profitable pig.

It was at this time that the Maoris began to get dissatisfied, and rumours of their dissatisfaction grew apace. To try to discover the truth of these rumours Father went one day to see some neighbours. As I was making my way through the bush that day, I came across a group of natives talking excitedly and immediately made for home and told Mother what I had seen. This made us very anxious till Father came home.

He had not been in the house long before the Maoris came trooping in and behaved in a very threatening manner, evidently disappointed to find Father at home. They cast covetous eyes at our stock of goods which lay on slabs across the roof beams, but not being sure of their position, they took nothing and after a time went off. They tried to persuade Father to go to tuakau with them, but presently two of the party whom we knew warned him not to do so, as that place was full of troublesome Waikatos. Moreover they promised that if there were any danger in the future, to give us warning in good time.

For three years we worked on the farm growing crops of wheat and oats and grass seed, chiefly rye and cocksfoot. The grass we cut with a sickle, tied into bundles, and threshed with flails. The seed we harvested, sold readily, and the money so gained was very welcome.

Each year we felled more bush, all hands participating in the work, the girls chopped the underscrub while Father and we boys felled the trees. The bush was beautiful from a scenic point of view, but individual trees, especially giant ratas, were very hard to fell. We felled everything. Nowadays it is the custom to chop only trees up to three feet in diameter (900mm), but in my young days everything from the slender tangled supplejack to the giant rimu and rata had to be felled.

Sometimes, sheltered by surrounding trees we would come upon luxurious groves of the nikau palm. It seemed a shame to destroy such stately loveliness. The solemn stillness in these sequestered places, the subdued light filtering through the arched fronds of the nikaus, the many columns of the pillared like trunks, reminded me of some stately cathedral or temple of the gods. Such groves are to be found only in  the sheltered places of the bush, the wind scarred veterans sometimes found in cleared places are lone survivors, bravely striving against the wear and tear of the unkind elements. To behold these delicate palms in all their pristine loveliness, seek them in some sheltered nook, the holy of holies as it were, of the bush.

When at times we desisted from our toil, we boys found refreshment in the pith of the leaf butts of the nikau, and in  times in the fleshy inflorescence of the tawhara. The first was a nutty flavoured substance, the second a good substitute for a vanilla ice.  We always had sufficient to eat, but our youthful appetites welcomed anything edible the bush contained, as an addition to our diet.