been struck with the strategic value of the island of Kapiti—­steep, secure from land attacks, not infertile, and handy to the shore.  It was the resort, moreover, of the Pakehas trading-ships.  Like Hongi, Rauparaha saw that the man with the most muskets must carry all before him in New Zealand.  Out of the way and overshadowed by the Waikato his small tribe were badly placed at Kawhia.  But if he could bring them and allies along with them to Kapiti and seize it, he could dominate central New Zealand.

He persuaded his people to migrate.  Their farewell to their old dwellings is still a well-known Maori poem.  Joined by a strong contingent of Waitara men under Wi Kingi—­to be heard of again as late as 1860—­they won their way after many fights, adventures and escapes to their goal at Kapiti.  There Rauparaha obtained the coveted muskets.  Not only did he trade with the visiting ships but he protected a settlement of whalers on his island who did business with him, and whose respect for the craft and subtlety of “Rowbulla” was always great.  Rauparaha set out for Kapiti a year before Hongi sailed for England on his fatal quest.  From his sea-fortress he kept both coasts in fear and turmoil for twenty years.  More than once he was defeated, and once his much-provoked foes attacked Kapiti with a united flotilla.  But though they “covered the sea with their canoes,” they parleyed after landing when they should have fought.  By a union of astuteness and hard fighting Rauparaha’s people won, and signal was the revenge taken on his assailants.  Previous to this he had almost exterminated one neighbour-tribe whose villages were built on small half-artificial islets in a forest-girt lake.  In canoes and by swimming his warriors reached the islets, and not many of the lake people were left alive.

More than one story is preserved of Rauparaha’s resource and ruthlessness.  One night, when retreating with a weak force, he had the Waikatos at his heels.  He held them back by lighting enough watchfires for a large host, and by arming and dressing his women as fighting-men.  Again, when he was duck-hunting near the coast of the South Island, his enemies, led by the much-libelled “Bloody Jack,” made a bold attempt to surround his party.  Most of his men were cut off.  Rauparaha, lowered down a sea-cliff, hid among the kelp by the rocks beneath.  A canoe was found and brought, and he put to sea.  It was over-loaded with fugitives, and their chief therefore ordered half to jump overboard that the rest might be saved.  The lightened canoe then carried him to a place of safety.  Yet, after the capture of Kaiapoi he showed generosity.  Amongst the prisoners, who were lying bound hand and foot waiting for the oven, was a young brave who had killed one of Rauparaha’s chiefs in a daring sortie.  Him now the conqueror sought out, spared his life, cut his bonds, and took him into service and favour.