The Maori had also begun to recognise that the British Pakeha were not over clean-handed in their dealings with them; for, in addition to the above, they prayed the "Gracious Chief" to prevent his own people from depriving them of their lands.

The result of this unrest was the appointment of Mr. Busby as British Resident. He arrived at the Bay of Islands in 1833, and led off in great style by proposing that all New Zealand should be ruled by a Parliament of Chiefs, and that the country should adopt a national flag to signify its independence.

New Zealand — Part 73

The idea caught the fancy of some; the flag arrived from Sydney in H.M.S. _Alligator_, and was inaugurated with a salute of twenty-one guns. The Parliament of Chiefs took shape a little later, when thirty-five hereditary chiefs declared their independence, and received the designation of the "United Tribes of New Zealand."

New Zealand — Part 73

Barely a year after Mr. Busby's appointment, a "regrettable incident" occurred, which compelled him to assume the character of "Vindex," in which neither he, nor those associated with him, showed to advantage.

New Zealand — Part 73

The affair gave rise to the employment of British troops for the first time in New Zealand, and arose out of the shipwreck of the _Harriet_ at Cape Egmont, Taranaki. The sailormen lodged for a fortnight in a Maori village, and then a quarrel arose. A fight followed, and twelve sailors and twice as many Maori were killed.

Since the Maori loss was double that of the ship's company, the account could only be balanced by _utu_; so the surviving whites were held to ransom, and Guard, the shipmaster, was sent to procure the same.

Five months later, the Government of New South Wales despatched H.M.S. _Alligator_ with a company of soldiers on board to bring away the prisoners. On her arrival off the scene of the disaster, Guard went ashore, accompanied by the military, when the Maori at once gave up the sailors. All was going well--for Guard was assured of the safety and well-being of his wife and two little ones--when an officer, perhaps deceived by gestures incomprehensible to him, hurled an unfortunate chief into the boat and bayoneted him.

This wrong-headed act was not immediately followed by hostilities, though it interrupted the progress of negotiations. Matters were at last smoothed over, the wounded chief was sent ashore, and Mrs. Guard and one of her children brought down to the boat. Then, as the ransom was still unpaid, the second child was carried to the shore upon the shoulder of the chief who had cared for it.