The Maoris were exploiting the legacy of the
first artificer in brass and iron.
Adah and Zillah, hear my voice;
Ye wives of Lamech, hearken unto my speech:
For I have slain a man to my wounding,
And a young man to my hurt.
If Cain shall be avenged sevenfold,
Truly Lamech seventy and sevenfold.
In this genesis of verse, Sir George also found the noise of all combat
with skilled weapons. A cry of sorrow and repentance by Lamech, at some
ill-starred act, which filled him with remorse? Surely, rather the
exultant note of a rude spirit, handling mastery anew in the ingenuity of
his son.
There stood Lamech, on the edge of creation, crowing over the cunning
forces Tubal Cain had discovered. 'I have slain a man to my wounding, and
a young man to my hurt!' It was to be a long roll. Sir George would
recite the lines once, twice, yet again, and the thunder tramp of a Maori
impi sang in his ears. 'The story of my going to New Zealand,' he
thought, 'may appear quaint in these days, when the cable anticipates all
pleasant surprises. We had heard at Adelaide, through a coaster arriving
from Sydney and Van Diemen's Land, also from a British man-of-war on the
Australian station, of serious fighting in New Zealand. A friend of my
own was in command of the war-ship in question, which had put into
Adelaide for supplies.
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