Month followed month, and still the settlers were pent up and the province infested by the marauding Taranaki, Ngatiawa, and Ngatiruanui Maoris, and by sympathisers from Waikato, who, after planting their crops, had taken their guns and come over to New Plymouth to enjoy the sport of shooting Pakeha.  The farms and homes of the devastated settlement lay a plundered wreck, and the owners complained bitterly of the dawdling and timidity of the Imperial officers, who on their side accused the settlers of unreason in refusing to remove their families, of insolence to Native allies and prisoners, of want of discipline, and of such selfish greed for compensation from Government that they would let their cattle be captured by natives rather than sell them to the commissariat.  On the other hand, the natives were far from a happy family.  The Waikato had not forgotten that they had been aforetime the conquerors of the Province, now the scene of war, that the Ngatiawa and Taranaki had been their slaves, and that Wiremu Kingi had fled to Cook’s Straits to escape their raids.  They swaggered among their old foes and servants, and ostentatiously disregarded their advice, much to our advantage.

In June we were defeated at Puke-te-kauere on the Waitara.  Three detachments were sent to surround and storm a pa standing in the fork of a Y made by the junction of two swampy ravines.  The plan broke down; the assailants went astray in the rough country and had to retreat; Lieutenant Brooks and thirty men were killed and thirty-four wounded.  The Maori loss was little or nothing.

In August General Pratt came on the scene from Australia.  He proceeded to destroy the plantations and to attack the pas of the insurgents.  He certainly took many positions.  Yet so long and laborious were his approaches by sapping, so abundant his precautions, that in no case did the natives stay to be caught in their defences.  They evacuated them at the last moment, leaving the empty premises to us.  Once, however, with an undue contempt for the British soldier, a contingent, newly arrived from the Waikato, occupied a dilapidated pa at Mahoe-tahi on the road from New Plymouth to Waitara.  Their chief, Tai Porutu, sent a laconic letter challenging the troops to come and fight.  “Make haste; don’t prolong it!  Make haste!” ran the epistle.  Promptly he was taken at his word.  Two columns marched on Mahoe-tahi from New Plymouth and Waitara respectively.  Though the old pa was weak, the approaches to it were difficult, and had the Maoris waylaid the assailants on the road, they might have won.  But at the favourable moment Tai Porutu was at breakfast and would not stir.  He paid for his meal with his life.  Caught between the 65th regiment and the militia, the Maoris were between two fires.  Driven out of their pa, they tried to make a stand behind it in swamp and scrub.  Half a dozen well-directed shells sent them scampering thence to be pursued for three miles.  They lost over 100, amongst whom were several chiefs.  Our killed and wounded were but 22.  Here again Captain Atkinson distinguished himself.  Not only did he handle his men well, but a prominent warrior fell by his hand.