  It was a very happy Maori soldier who was in London a month later, preparing to go before the King and receive the noble and much-coveted badge of V.C. When Henare left the kindly French hospital, Wiremu was getting over his wound,—more quickly than he wished, for he had completely fallen in love with Nurse Marie, and was using all the arts and devices known to the civilized Maori, to win the affections of that charming little angel of mercy. As for Henare himself, he was not again passed for active service, but received orders to return to New Zealand, after he had obtained the highest badge of honour at the hands of the King. But the most confusing time was when they were telling him how to behave at the ceremony and in the presence of His Majesty. He couldn't remember for five minutes what he had to say and do. At last he said to the officer instructing him— "Py korry, mate, I gettin' too shaky. More better you get te Wikitoria Cross an bring him to me—an I get home quick." "That would never do, my boy; half the honour is having the medal pinned on by the King himself." "My wurra, I tink you right. We better go now; King Hori he get too tire waitin' for us." The officers felt a bit anxious when Henare showed signs of talkativeness as the King was pinning the V.C. on his breast, but they could see by His Majesty's pleasant smile that no harm was being done. No one could help smiling when Henare remarked to the King— "Py cripes, you got te wery fine whare here." Anyhow, the impressive ceremony passed off without a hitch, and Corporal The very next thing to be considered was "New Zealand" with all speed. At last, after an absence of nearly twelve months, into which were crammed the experiences and feelings of years, the Maori brave returned to his native land, bringing with him the fame and the honours he had so nobly won. The wildest enthusiasm prevailed at the reception in Henare's native village. Maori and Pakeha customs and phrases followed one another in quick succession in the eager desire to express a joyous welcome. "Haeremai's" were shouted at the returned soldier boy from every quarter of the crowd; vigorous nose rubbing threatened to become serious, until it was relieved by the more European ceremony As Henare stood up to reply the ground shook with the hakas and feet stamping. It was a real ovation that the loyal brown-boy received. For the sake of the distinguished Pakehas present, Henare spoke in pidgin-English. He had often heard about the great Lord Kitchener, so he began by saying: "Te Pritis soldier no talk too much. He te man of the do things, not t'talk it. T'that why I no got too much for te speech." He then thanked them all very warmly for the kind and unexpected welcome they "Any bloke here want te nice soft job, no good for him go to te Sherman war; more better him stop home wid te mudder. But if all you big fat feller want to be te MAN and te decent bloke, get outer Noo Zeelan quick and help all your mate lick up te Sherman." Kiri, his faithful Maori maiden, was foremost among those who welcomed him home; and the Rev. Honi Maki celebrated their happy wedding a week later. Bearing on his body the honourable scars of war, and on his breast the King's acknowledgment of his bravery and loyalty, Henare spent his days going in and out among the Waikatos and neighbouring tribes, telling WORTHINGTON & CO., PRINTERS, ALBERT STREET, AUCKLAND—5380 "LETTERS FROM PRIVATE HENARE TIKITANU." By J. C. FUSSELL. "A very humorous account of the experiences and impressions of a typical Maori soldier on the long journey from New Zealand to France." —N.Z. Herald. "If you can't raise a smile for Private Henare there is a fissure somewhere in your diaphragm."... "It is a quaint and appropriate greeting to send to friends across the seas." —The Sun, Christchurch. "The Booklet will have a large and ready sale because of its decided merit and originality." "They are splendid, and just the thing for sending to the trenches." "The letters of the Maori soldier, as he sees active service." |
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