FIND A LAWYER TO FIGHT. LAWYER TO FIGHT
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Find A Lawyer To Fight
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The burbot (Lota lota), from old french barbot, is the only freshwater gadiform (cod-like) fish. It is also known as mariah, the lawyer, and (misleadingly) eelpout, and closely related to the common ling and the cusk. It is the only member of the genus Lota.
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A lawyer, according to Black's Law Dictionary, is "a person learned in the law; as an attorney, counsel or solicitor; a person licensed to practice law.
- contend: be engaged in a fight; carry on a fight; "the tribesmen fought each other"; "Siblings are always fighting"; "Militant groups are contending for control of the country"
- A violent confrontation or strle
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Mapoutahi Pa Goat Island Blueskin Bay Otago
The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 13, Issue 11 (January 1, 1939)
The Massacre at Mapoutahi Pa — The Story of a Southern Maori Inter-Tribal — War Before The Coming of the Pakeha
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The Massacre at Mapoutahi Pa
The Story of a Southern Maori Inter-Tribal
War Before The Coming of the Pakeha
(By R. K. McFarlane.)
Legend and tradition have enriched the North Island of New Zealand with a wealth of knowledge concerning the history of the Maori before the advent of the white man. On the other hand there is perhaps not so much tradition connected with the southern Maori which enables us to follows his doings before the pakeha came. This is due chiefly to the fact that the Maoris colonised the southern part of New Zealand a long time after their first arrival, and then only very sparsely on account of the more rigorous climate. Then again, it is on record that the southern Maori was several times almost exterminated by his overpowering northern brother.
Although little Maori history about Dunedin is known, tradition has recorded for us two outstanding episodes. Both are tragic—one, a tragic romance on the coast near the Taieri, the other a tragic massacre, also on the coast about fifteen miles north of Dunedin.
It is the latter which I propose to relate.
From two sources only could I get information about this intensely interesting history. The first was a brief account in a small hand-book entitled “Dunedin and its Neighbourhood,” published in 1904—the other a newspaper article of 1929 regarding research carried out among the Maoris concerning Mapoutahi Pa. The latter sums up very well the difficulties of acquiring information, as the old Maori is passing on:—
“There is much which remains to be told concerning the history of the Maori Race in Otago and with the passing of the years traditions as they relate to historic incidents are becoming more and more extinct … however it is possible to trace the history of Mapoutahi Pa from the tradition handed down from generation to generation.”
Soon after leaving Purakanui station the traveller by train northwards from Dunedin sees from his window as the train winds its way round the precipitous cliff face a green and picturesque little island almost completely surrounded by steep cliffs, and lying close to the long stretch of white sand washed by rows of creamy breakers which is Purakanui Beach. As the panorama unfolds it can be seen that this so-called island is really a small peninsula connected to the high cliff of the mainland by a small isthmus three or four feet wide and a few yards long. On one side of this neck of land is a little golden half-moon beach, while on the other side the sea rushes in with a turbulent swell threatening to undermine the narrow pathway. On the slopes of the “island” itself long green grass sways in the sea breeze, while the leaves of the numerous cabbage trees rustle continually as if mournfully trying to tell the story that exists beneath their roots.
“There is nothing to sest the tragedy of which it was once the scene, yet these green slopes once ran red with blood and the yells of the victors and the vanquished could have been heard above the noise of the surf that laves its rocky base.”
Goat Island it is called, no doubt because its outline bears some resemblance to the head of a goat. There in the 18th century stood a fortified pa—Mapoutahi Pa.
Some six or seven generations ago a chief named Taoka or Taonga lived with his people in a kaika near Timaru. As was customary at times he set out with a small party to visit his cousin, Te Wera, of Ngatimamoe, who had a large pa at Karitane Peninsula, or Huriawa. After enjoying Te Wera's hospitality for three days
Goat Island—now a popular seaside resort near Dunedin.
Goat Island—now a popular seaside resort near Dunedin.
Taoka set out with his host, who it might be mentioned was a man of very fiery temper (he had killed his own wife—a princess of the Kaitahu) to visit another relative, Kapo, in Mapoutahi Pa, at Purakanui. While staying here these two—Te Wera and Taoka—as relatives often do, had a heated argument which developed into an open quarrel, resulting unfortunately in Te Wera killing Taoka's son. Taoka vowing vengeance returned to Timaru, gathered all his fighting men about him and laid siege to Karitane Pa. For twelve long months he waited, but only once did any of his men gain entrance—several climbed up a blow-hole into the pa and stole Te Wera's god-stick. Next day Te Wera saw them doing a haka and, noticing the loss of his god-stick, induced his tohunga to chant for its return, whereupon it came flying back through the air to him.
Unable to sack the Karitane Pa, whose massive entrenchments remain to-day, Taoka went home but came back again the following winter and this time made to attack the Mapoutahi Pa whose chief, Pakihaukea, was a close ally of Te Wera. After besieging the pa for ten days, sin
Murdering Beach Whareakeake
Murdering Beach has been a popular spot for as long as humans have been in Otago, although for most of that time it had a far more appealing name – Whareakeake. Behind the golden sand beach is a swampy flat that was once the setting of a large fortified Maori pa. In the 17th century Otago was covered with forest down to the waterline, and this would have been a great spot to live if you had to do so off the land – abundant seafood and birds in the forest, and in those days seals covering the rocks.
It was the New Zealand fur seal that first drew Europeans to Otago, and a member of the first crew in this area, William Tucker is the main reason the name of the beach was changed from Whareakeake to something far more sinister.
Tucker was at the centre of a nasty and violent conflict between European sealers and local Maori in which dozens of people were killed in the 1820?s – a terrible start to race relations in the deep south that not many people know about to this day.
A series of tit-for-tat raids was dividing the region, but somehow William Tucker settled in Whareakeake with a local wife and set about trying to make some money. When the pa-site was excavated by 20th century archeologists it was found to be unique in all New Zealand due to its high concentration of pounamu (greenstone) artifacts. The site had so much greenstone (whole items and tones of chips from their production) that it was mined like a gold field – people staked claims and dug out as much as they could.
There were very few weapons or tools but dozens of hei-tiki – human figures worn mainly as decoration. More were found on this one small Otago beach than in any other site in the country. What was even more unusual was they seemed to have been mass-produced using iron tools – and sold to visiting sailors. It seems William Tucker pioneered a trade that still exists today – making and selling greenstone tikis to tourists.
But his luck turned, big time. After being away for a couple of years, Tucker returned to Whareakeake in 1817 with a party of sealers. No-one is really sure why, but the sailors were suddenly attacked. Two were killed, and the rest ran for the beach and tried to launch their boat in the same waves that surfers love today.
Tucker, obviously a bit slow off the mark, appeared and attempted to join them. But as he inexplicably hesitated in the surf, perhaps in a last doomed attempt to make peace, the pursuing Maori warriors caught up. He is reported as crying “for God’s sake don’t leave me!” before being “cut limb from limb and carried away by the savages” in the words of Captain James Kelly who lived to fight another day.
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