Summary

Portrait of Frederick Edward Maning Frederick Edward Maning Old New Zealand: Being Incidents of Native Customs and Character in the Old Times

May your mana never be less;—long may you hold at bay the demon of civilization, though fall at last I fear you must. Plutus with golden hoof is trampling on your land-marks. He mocks the war-song, but should I see your fall, at least one Pakeha Maori shall raise the tangi; and with flint and shell as of old shall the women lament you.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Frederick Edward Maning Frederick Edward Maning Old New Zealand: Being Incidents of Native Customs and Character in the Old Times

Now can any one imagine a more respectable character?—a warrior, a musician, a friend in need, who would stand by you while he had a leg to stand on, and would not eat a friend on any account whatever—except he should be very hungry.
The boat darts on; she touches the edge of a steep rock; the "haere mai" has subsided; six or seven "personages"—the magnates of the tribe—come gravely to the front to meet me as I land.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Frederick Edward Maning Frederick Edward Maning Old New Zealand: Being Incidents of Native Customs and Character in the Old Times

The pakeha is beginning to wonder what will be the end of all this; and also to speculate on the efficacy of the buck shot with which his gun is loaded, and wishes it was ball. Two minutes have elapsed in this solemn silence; the more remarkable as being the first quiet two minutes for the last two days and nights. Suddenly from the extreme rear of the strangers' column is heard a scream—a horrid yell. A savage, of herculean stature, comes, mere in hand, and rushing madly to the front. He seems hunted by all the furies.
Source: Gutenberg

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