Tales of Banks Peninsula/Chapter 13

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Amongst the “Old Identities” of the Peninsula, one of the most remarkable was Jimmy Walker, or “One-eyed Jimmy,” as he was often called, from the fact that one of his eyes was gone. Our informant tells us that he believes his right name was Quinn, but no one ever called him anything else but Jimmy Walker, or One-eyed Jimmy. The way in which he first became known as Walker is rather curious. When he first came to New Zealand he was a very strong and powerfully built man, standing over six feet. Being not only a sailor, but a sailor accustomed to boats, he soon learnt to manage the canoes, when he went to live amongst the Maoris. After a short time he became so expert that none of the Natives could “hold a candle to him,” as he used to say. The result was that the Maoris christened him “Waka,” the Maori for a canoe; and as his Christian name was Jimmy, he gained the appellation of Jimmy Waka, or Walker, which stuck to him till the day of his death.

​His first arrival in New Zealand was in the year 1839, when he landed in the Bay of Islands. He was then about eighteen years of age, and immediately after running away from his ship he went into the bush, where he followed the occupation of timber splitting for some time. He soon became very expert at this work, but as soon as he got a cheque he used to knock it down, as was the fashion in those days, in one of the neighboring grog shanties, which were common enough even at that early period, being established principally for the benefit (?) of the whalers who used to frequent the coast. After a time he got tired of this life, and went over to Auckland. When he got there he was employed by Sir George Grey as a gardener. The great Proconsul took quite a fancy to this stalwart, good-looking, good-natured young sailor, to whom work seemed only fun, but, alas! those good looks, which stirred the Governor’s sympathy, were the cause of Jimmy’s speedy departure. Amongst Sir George’s household was a very pretty Maori girl, whose susceptible heart softened at the sight of this handsome stranger, and she soon made known to Jimmy, in that unmistakeable way which is common to the sex, be they white, brown, or black, that she loved him. Nor was he slow to return her affection, and the result was that they neglected their work that they might be together. Sir George remonstrated with him, but in vain; the greater the opposition the fiercer burned their love; and, at last, finding all argument useless, he was dismissed. If they thought, however, that by dismissing Master Jimmy they were going to retain the girl, they were much mistaken, for he had no sooner left than his faithful dusky belle followed him. She persuaded him to leave the haunts of civilisation and come to live with her tribe, and the syren’s voice prevailed, and Jimmy went with her, and spent some happy years amongst ​her Maori relatives. He soon acquired the native tongue, and became quite a “Rangitiera nui” amongst them. Owing to his knowledge of the two tongues, he used to conduct the barter between the Sydney traders and the Natives. From them the hapu used to get supplies of slops, stores, grog, etc., and payment for these used to be generally made in kind. Jimmy used always to have a number of Natives in the bush employed at splitting posts and rails and shingles for this purpose, and others were employed in flax scraping for the same end. Jimmy was very sharp at the trading, generally getting the best of the bargain.

After living in this way for eight years, the chief thought Jimmy was getting too bumptious, and tried to take him down. A serious row ensued, and Jimmy was very nearly shot by the enraged Rangitiera. However, he managed to escape with his life, though he left one of his eyes behind him in the scrimmage, and so gained another cognomen. All his gear, however, was forfeited, and he left the pa without anything but the much damaged clothes he had on his back. It is not recorded what became of her who had left Sir George Grey’s household for his sake; but Jimmy used to hint that the eight years of connubial felicity had somewhat chilled the first glow of their mutual passion, and that there were some things that he left behind him that he regretted even more than his dusky bride. However, as Jimmy used to say, “he was not long on the broad of his back,” for a very short time after he engaged with Captain Ford, of the American whaler Eliza, with whom he remained two years. During this time the vessel was coast whaling, and as they had good luck, she was a full ship at the end of that period, and sailed for New Bedford. Walker, however, had no fancy for leaving New Zealand, so he was paid off at Russell, in the Bay of Islands, and ​from thence he worked his way down the coast, stopping at Akaroa. He lived here with the Maoris for some time, and afterwards went to reside at Little River, where he took out a bush license for splitting shingles and posts and rails. He frequently employed a number of Maoris at this work, in the old style, paying them with slops and other articles of trade. At intervals he went to Christchurch, where he invariably got drunk.

Shortly after the Otago diggings broke out he found his way to them. He had excellent luck at first, but with his habits money was of little use to him, for the faster he made it the quicker he spent it. At the end of a few years the neighbourhood in which he was working was pretty well exhausted, so he started on a prospecting tour into the little-explored back country, accompanied by his mate. They travelled to places that no white man had previously visited, and it was then that Jimmy had the adventure of his life. This was no less than catching a glimpse of a living specimen of the great apteryx, the huge moa bird. One need hardly say that Jimmy’s tale about his meeting with a live moa was much doubted, but to the day of his death he always swore that it was a fact, with such earnestness as left no room to doubt that he himself thoroughly believed that he had seen that great bird, that is supposed to be extinct. Whether he and his mate (who also affirmed the same thing) were suffering from some strange hallucination, or whether they really did see this wonderful creature, will probably ever remain a mystery; but there is still a wide stretch of unexplored country in the county known as the Fiords, and it is possible that in this almost inaccessible region a last specimen of the moa may yet be found. Our informant gives us the tale told to him by Jimmy in almost the same words that were used in relating it:—“We were camped,” ​says he, “out in a deep gully a little above the creek which we had been prospecting for the last three days, getting the colour in most places. The hills all round us were mostly covered with tussocks, with here and there a little patch of bush in the gullies. On this particular evening we had just knocked off work, and were putting things a bit straight after supper, when I was astonished to hear my mate sing out, ‘Good God, Jimmy! what’s that?’ On turning round I could scarcely believe my eyes, for there, right in front of us, standing on the opposite side of the gully, was the moa bird that I had so often heard of from the Maoris. It was walking about, and as the sides of the gully were pretty steep, I should say the bird was not more than 150 yards from us, and a bit above the level of our camp. As soon as I saw it I knew at once what it was, so I told Bill, my mate, it was the moa, and that the Maoris were awfully frightened of it. At that he got very nervous and began to shake. The moa, I should say, was about eight feet six inches or nine feet high, and from the knee downwards you would think he had a pair of officer’s boots on, quite shiny and black. His feathers were a lightish grey colour, and his head he seemed to be able to turn round any way, as it would first look at us with one eye and then turn round and look with the other. I must confess I felt a little bit skeered myself, as we had no gun or anything, only a tomahawk, to protect ourselves with. However, after he had surveyed us he cleared out, taking immense strides as he went, and in the dusk of the evening he was soon lost to sight. My mate got so excited over it that he wanted me to break up the camp and make tracks back. He could not sleep a wink the whole of the night, and roused me up at daybreak next morning. After some persuasion on my part I got him to consent to follow the trail a bit. On getting over ​to where it had been standing, we found a pile of its dirt, and a little further on, where there was a small spring in the side of the hill, we noticed quite distinctly the track of its feet in the soft earth. I have a pretty big hand, and I spread it over the footmark, but could not span within three inches of it, from my thumb to my middle finger end; and from the depth it sunk in the soft earth, it must have been a good weight. We followed on for about two miles, but could see no sign of it, but coming to a small flat, we noticed that the heart of several of the cabbage trees had been pulled out, and part of them eaten, so that we were pretty sure it was done by the moa, as there was no one else in the district but ourselves. My mate was determined to leave the place, and as our tucker was nearly run out, I was compelled to go back with him. We had about eight ounces apiece for a little over two months’ work, so we packed up and started back, arriving at Queenstown in about a week. We told our tale there, and were of course called liars, and several other nice names. I got locked up over it, and this is how it happened. I had described the whole affair to three or four up-country hands, and when I had finished one of them—I forget his name now—called me a b———y liar. I hauled off and gave him a plug in the eye; then we had a regular set to, the finish of it being that several of us got locked up, and when called upon before the magistrate next morning, I told him the provocation I had got, and how the row commenced, so he let me off pretty light. He seemed to have some faith in my story, and got me and Bill to recount the whole of it to him. Several of the storekeepers offered to fit out an expedition to try and capture the moa. I offered my services to lead them to the place, and they also engaged an Arab, who was reckoned a dead shot to go with us, but he got his neck broke while breaking ​in a young horse, so that kept us for a bit. I had now run through all my money, and having a bit of a quarrel with those who were getting the thing ready for a start, I ‘chucked it up.’ ”

This is the story just as he told it to our informant, and on venturing to doubt the veracity of his statement he flew into a most violent passion, and wanted to know what good it would do him to make up a bundle of lies. He seemed quite earnest over it, and really we cannot but believe there was some truth in it. He said he intended to have another go for it some day, as he reckoned if he could get it alive it would be as good as a pile to him. Several times he tried to get the Little River Maoris to go with him, but in vain. In one of the bush fires at the River his whâre was consumed. It stood on Mr White’s ground, just after you commence the rise of the hill, about a quarter of a mile from the corner. Like most of the old hands, Jimmy came to an untimely end. After leaving the River he struck south, and was found dead on the banks of the Rangitata, close to Sir Cracroft Wilson’s station. A bottle of Hennessy was his only companion. It is needless to say it was empty.

Mr. and Mrs. Hahn, who used to live within a short distance of Jimmy Walker at Waikouaiti, and who knew him well, have forwarded us the following further particulars regarding that veteran. It appears that some nineteen years ago he was splitting posts and rails at Johnny Jones’ bush at Waikouaiti, having gone there from the Tuapeka diggings. Jimmy here dropped across a widow who was sister to a Mrs. Winsey. She had been married to an old skipper, who had given up “the briny,” as he called it, and died in the happy possession of an oyster saloon in the classic neighbourhood of the Minories, in London. When this unfortunate event occurred her sister wanted her to come out ​here, and she complied. She was a decent woman about forty, and, being fair, no doubt attracted Jimmy from the force of contrast with his former dusky companions. Her relatives being old and feeble, she began to look out for a home, and, no doubt influenced by her former relation with the ocean, kept company with the Cyclopean Jimmy. She accepted him when he told her he had lots of money, in fact, had made his “pile.” Of course she only married him for a home and his money, and she lived to bitterly repent her folly. They were married in Waikouaiti, and kept up the “spree” for three days at Mrs. Winsey’s house, which was situated on the edge of the Hawksbury Bush. After the great “spree” Jimmy’s money was almost done. They lived with the Winseys for about three weeks, while Jimmy was building a hut in the Hawksbury Bush. He got permission to do so from the late John Jones, for whom he was working. The hut was built of split slabs and covered with calico. He soon began to ill-treat his wife, and the Winseys, having got tired of Jimmy’s company and the rows occasioned by the quarrelling of the two, told him he must take her away, so as soon as his hut was finished he moved into it. It was built a little way in the bush, on a small clearing a short distance from Hawksbury House. When they got in the hut Mrs. Walker soon displayed her ability at housekeeping, for she arranged her half-tent, half-hut, in such a tasteful manner that it was the talk of all the people round that neighbourhood. When Mrs. Walker was living with her sister, before she knew Jimmy, she had some cattle which she bought when she first came out. As soon as they were married Jimmy sold these and spent the money. This was the first of their quarrels, which led to his thrashing her, the castigation no doubt reminding him of the system used in correcting Maori ladies. He became ​a perfect brute to his wife, thrashing her in the most unmerciful manner. He always performed this operation late at night, never striking her in the daytime. All the men about there seemed to be afraid of him, and consequently he was let alone, though universally hated by his mates, Charlie Anderson, Billy Caton, Jack Pope, and a Swede. These four men used formerly to work in Okain’s Bay, but went away from there to the Tuapeka diggings. Jimmy was considered a good bushman in those days, so his mates stuck to him. Mrs. Walker frequently brought Jimmy up before the late Mr. Mellish, who was Magistrate there, and who used to caution Jimmy, who would promise to act better if he was let off, but never did. The Resident Magistrate eventually bound him over to keep the peace, but this was too much for Jimmy, who no doubt thought he could not trust himself, so cleared out again for the diggings. Mrs. Walker still lived in the same place, and used to take in needlework. After a time Jimmy sent her a little money. Although frequent enquiries were made about him, after this he was not heard of. During this time Jimmy encountered the moa. Poor Mrs. Walker was found dead a few years after on the road through Hawksbury’s paddock. She died of heart disease, brought on, it was said, by the ill-treatment and frights she had received from Walker. It was only after she was married that she suffered from heart disease.