Back Roads



Our Heritage: The Stories of People, Lifestyle, Community and
Everything else in between, from the past to the present, and beyond.
Issue 2— 18th November 2007

AUCKLAND, 18th December.
After Search parties had scoured
the country and dragged the river
Dufaur, the bank clerk who
disappeared from the time the
county clerk, Mr. Sayers, was found
dead on the road, as the result of a
fall from a horse, appeared at the
National Bank, Paparoa last night.
He had undergone much hardship
in the brief period, and was in a
thoroughly exhausted condition,
bordering on collapse. No coherent
account can yet be obtained as to
his strange actions, but probably
more light will be thrown on the
matter at the adjourned enquiry on
Monday into the circumstances surrounding the death of Mr.Sayers.
Dufaur is still in bed, and have to
remain quiet for a few days.
Although details are meagre, it can
be gathered from the few scraps of
conversation uttered by the patient
that he experienced great hardships
during his sojourn in the bush. His
memory appears to be almost a
blank at present in regard to recent
happenings. It appears he must
have come back to the Pahi Hotel
soon after the fatal accident, but
owing to the great shock he had
received, he was apparently unable
to indicate to anyone what had happened. After speaking to one or two
people near the hotel on Saturday
night, it can be gathered he went to
Pahi wharf, which is only a few
hundred yards from the hotel.
When Dufaur got to the wharf he
placed his set of keys just above the
steps, realising that they would be
required at the bank.
Then he
states his hat blew off into the water. Thinking that if his hat was
found floating it be taken as evidence that he was drowned, Dufaur, who is a very powerful swimmer, jumped, fully clothed as he
was, from the wharf, with the object
of recovering his head gear.

The hat eluded him, and he swam to
the wharf again, and during most of
the night kept wandering about in the
vicinity of the hotel. Before dawn of
Sunday morning broke he made for
the bush.
From this point no particulars as yet
can be gleaned. He must have hidden
in the bush, which is very dense,
through out Sunday, and either that
night or on Monday evening made his
way to Paparoa. No food passed the
unfortunate man’s lips during the
period of his absence, and not finding
any fresh water, he drank salt water.
All this, together with the fact that he
slept on the ground in his damp
clothes, combined to bring about the
pitiable plight in which he was found.
Young Dufaur was hiding in the bush
last evening when he saw a light shining from the bank window. It dawned
on him that he could not pass another
night of exposure without dire consequences, and he made up his mind to
seek assistance, with the result already

Evening Post 19th December 1912

Sourced National Library of NZ

The National Bank Building where David
Dufaur was found in 1912 in Paparoa.


Please take

(Our Own Correspondent)

Yesterday morning an extremely rare
specimen of the whale species came ashore
at the North Head Kaipara, about two miles
below the lighthouse. It is what is known
as the goosebill*, and so far as is known
here, there is only one other specimen in the
Wellington Museum*. This one is about 14
feet long. It is hoped the authorities of the
local museum will secure it.

Evening Post 23rd August 1895
Sourced National Library of NZ

Editors note* Curiosity got the better of the
editor who did some further research into
what the article above might have been referring to. After some time the term ‘goosebill’
was narrowed down to ‘Goosebeak Whale’
another name for the Cuvier’s Beaked Whale
Ziphius caviostrus.
The earlier specimen referred to as being in
the Wellington Museum was collected by H.
Travers from the Chatham Islands and
described by Dr James Hector M.D. F.R.S
in his presentation to the Philosophical
Society on 6th November 1872.

( Transactions and Proceedings of the
Royal Society of New Zealand ‘ART. XIX
On the Whales and Dolphins of New Zealand’ Plate.V) At the time of writing his
paper Dr Hector referred to the Chatham
Island Whale skull specimen by the genus
‘Epiodon chathamieses’. Sourced NATIONAL LIBRARY
It has not been conclusively proven that the
whale washed up at Poutu was in fact a
Cuvier’s Beaked Whale. Enquiries are
continuing. Ed.

Back Roads Kaipara P.2


From the writings of William bailey
‘ William bailey manuscripts Early history C.1920’
Speaking of Captain Cook, reminds
that there was one animal in the
country we heard a great deal
about. The bush, we were told,
was over-run by wild pigs. Both
speakers and writers had enlarged
on the advantages the settlers
would have in the ready supply of
fresh and tasty meat almost at
their very door; on ship-board any
talk about the future settlement,
otherwise The Bush, was invariably
garnished with abundance of anticipated wild pork; it went so far,
in fact, that any uneasiness in regard to future meat rations was
thought quite unnecessary. On
several occasions after our arrival
circumstances pointed to the desirability of drawing on this reputed supply of pork. Indications
of wild pigs being about had been
seen, and a hunt had been more
than once mildly suggested. That
no-one was disposed to take what I
may call a too prominent part in
the matter will be better understood, when I explain that no-one
in the settlement was too well
acquainted with the manners and
habits of wild pigs to inspire us
with the confidence necessary to
undertake a hunt of our own account, and judging from the manners of the domesticated pig we
had very grave doubts about a wild
pig being such a mild accommodating creature, as he appeared to
be when the subject of conversation in an English sitting room or
on board a ship. Then he was mere
animated pork. But at close quarters, and in his native wilds, what
might he not be endowed, as we
had now good reason to know,
with such formidable carver-like

“ he had
maliciously and with
evil intent put his
‘falling part’ out of
our reach.”

Moreover we have been told by
hunters of experience, that the
proper way when hunting, was to
at once fall on the quarry, turn it
over, and the rest was simple. I
must say, that we could hardly
regard it that light, at any rate
not until we felt fully assured
about the somebody who was
doing the 'falling on'. However,
while each one interested was
exercising a diplomatic reserve
about the matter, there appeared
on the scene, a renowned hunter
of pigs in the person of Mr G.
Williams, accompanied by his
famous dog, Namou; here was
our opportunity.
Mr Williams was bent on 'sport',
we were bent on pork, and by
joining forces, there appeared to
be every possibility of bringing
about satisfactory results to both
parties. This Mr Williams, I
should say, resided near the
Great North Road which runs
behind the Pukekaroro Mountain, a very out of the way situation in those days. He had come
direct through the bush, killing as
he said, two pigs in the course of
his journey. This must have been
the previous day, as he arrived in
the district rather early in the
forenoon, and was prepared to
start on the hunting expedition at
once. This was as near as I can
remember in the early part of the
year 1864. Who were of the
party, other than myself and Mr
Williams, I am unable to say of
any certainty, not is it of any particular consequence. Suffice to
say we started off on our quest a
company of four, accompanied
by three dogs - after tramping
some distance, the redoubtable
was sent out to find the quarry,
and shortly afterwards made
announcement to the effect,
when the two other dogs were
sent off to his assistance, we
following as best as we could
through the most broken
tangled country imaginable.

Breaking through eventually onto
the scene of conflict, we found
the dogs facing certainly, the
most ugly, savage looking animal
it was ever our lot to see. Also I
may add, the most odorous, for
the vile animal smell of the creature was in evidence before we
saw it. That this was not the kind
of pig we had been led to expect
was apparent at once, for why
this savage, resentful attitude
anything more unlike the plump,
amiable, good natured Albertland pig - it would be impossible
to conceive. for my part, I would
have been quite willing to have
apologised for our rude interruption of his usual daily occupation,
and have retired with best grace
possible. I wished afterward that
I had, but no, the hunting instinct
had been aroused, and he must
be made to yield up his pork.
This was a decision, of course;
still, if he wasn't pork, he was
undeniably pig, and therefore
having come so far, there would
be some satisfaction in finding
out what he was composed of.
There still, however, remained
the question of how this was to
be done.
This ancient animal was plainly a
tactician of some quality, due no
doubt to many an old time fight
with other chieftains of the porcine race, for he backed his hindquarters into a cavity at the root
of and enormous rata, consequently the only point of attack
was the awe-inspiring head, and I
don't think the whole British
army could have been induced to
make a frontal attack of that
kind, at any rate unaided by artillery. Fortunately, one member of
the party, seeing probably that
there might be some difficulty in
following out the proper course,
by 'falling on the quarry', had
brought a gun and some ball
cartridge. that it was unsportsmanlike to use this means of
slaughter thus afforded, was
countered by the fact that he
animal himself was responsible,
inasmuch as he had maliciously
and with evil intent, put his
'falling on' part out of our reach.

Consequently the only course was
to bring our artillery to bear on
him. A kill having been effected,
we were able to make a closer inspection of our quarry, and a sorry
spectacle it was, as indeed were all
its kind that I ever saw.
Our enthusiasm had cooled by this
time, the noisome smell and terrifying ugliness of the beast had gone
far toward extinguishing our desire
to make any further acquaintance
with wild pork. However, so tenacious are preconceived ideas, that
notwithstanding our repugnance to
the whole business we were shortly
on our way homeward, loaded up,
each one of us, with portions of the
carcase. To skip all details of our
journey, I may say that our reception at the end of it was not of a
cordial character; in truth, the smell
of the meat we carried talked
louder than we did, and the tone of
the remarks which were made,
unmistakably intimidated that the
more distant the point where we
unburdened ourselves, the better
several people would be pleased,
and thus ended our first and last pig
hunt in Maungaturoto.

W. J Bailey

'Manuscripts of
Maungaturoto Early
History' C.1920

Grateful acknowledgement
goes to Mr Alan Flower for
granting his kind permission
for the reproduction of this

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