POLYNESIAN MYTHOLOGY & ANCIENT TRADITIONAL HISTORY
OF THE NEW ZEALANDERS
AS FURNISHED BY THEIR PRIESTS AND CHIEFS
by
SIR GEORGE GREY
Late Governor-in-Chief of New Zealand
1854
PREFACE
TOWARDS the close of the year 1845
I was suddenly and unexpectedly required by the British Government
to administer the affairs of New Zealand, and shortly afterwards
received the appointment of Governor-in-chief of those Islands.
When I arrived in them, I found Her Majesty's native subjects
engaged in hostilities with the Queen's troops, against whom
they had up to that time contended with considerable success;
so much discontent also prevailed generally amongst the native
population, that where disturbances had not yet taken place,
there was too much reason to apprehend they would soon break
out, as they shortly afterwards did, in several parts of the
Islands.
I soon perceived that I could neither successfully govern,
nor hope to conciliate, a numerous and turbulent people, with
whose language, manners, customs, religion, and modes of thought
I was quite unacquainted. in order to redress their grievances,
and apply remedies which would neither wound their feelings nor
militate against their prejudices, it was necessary that I should
be able thoroughly to understand their complaints; and to win
their confidence and regard it was also requisite that I should
be able at all times and in all places patiently to listen to
the tales of their wrongs or sufferings, and, even if I could
not assist them, to give them a kind reply, couched in such terms
as should leave no doubt on their minds that I clearly understood
and felt for them, and was really well disposed towards them.
Although furnished with some very able interpreters, who gave
me assistance of the most friendly nature, I soon found that
even with their aid I could still only very imperfectly perform
my duties. I could not at all times and in all places have an
interpreter by my side; and thence often when waylaid by some
suitor, who had perhaps travelled two or three hundred miles
to lay before me the tale of his or her grievances, I was compelled
to pass on without listening, and to witness with pain an expression
of sorrow and keenly disappointed hope cloud over features which
the moment before were bright with gladness, that the opportunity
so anxiously looked for had at length been secured.
Again, I found that any tale of sorrow or suffering, passing
through the medium of an interpreter, fell much more coldly on
my ear than what it would have done had the person interested
addressed the tale direct to myself; and in like manner an answer
delivered through the intervention of a third person appeared
to leave a very different impression upon the suitor from what
it would have had coming direct from the lips of the Governor
of the country. Moreover, this mode of communication through
a third person was so cumbrous and slow that, in order to compensate
for the loss of time thus occasioned, it became necessary for
the interpreters to compress the substance of the representations
made to me, as also of my own replies, into the fewest words
possible; and, as this had in each instance to be done hurriedly
and at the moment, there was reason to fear that much that was
material to enable me fully to understand the question brought
before me, or the suitor to comprehend my reply, might be unintentionally
omitted. Lastly, I had on several occasions reasons to believe
that a native hesitated to state facts or to express feelings
and wishes to an interpreter, which he would most gladly have
done to the Governor, could he have addressed him direct.
These reasons, and others of equal force, made me feel it
to be my duty to make myself acquainted, with the least possible
delay, with the language of the Maoris, as also with their manners,
customs, and prejudices. But I soon found that this was a far
more difficult matter than I had at first supposed. The language
of the Maoris is a very difficult one to understand thoroughly:
there was then no dictionary of it published (unless a vocabulary
can be so called); there were no books published in the language
which would enable me to study its construction; it varied altogether
in form from any of the ancient or modern languages which I knew;
and my thoughts and time were so occupied with the cares of the
government of a country then pressed upon by many difficulties,
and with a formidable rebellion raging in it, that I could find
but very few hours to devote to the acquisition of an unwritten
and difficult language. I, however, did my best, and cheerfully
devoted all my spare moments to a task, the accomplishment of
which was necessary to enable me to perform properly every duty
to my country and to the people I was appointed to govern.
Soon, however, a new and quite unexpected difficulty presented
itself. On the side of the rebel party were engaged, either openly
or covertly, some of the oldest, least civilized, and most influential
chiefs in the Islands. With them I had, either personally or
by written communications, to discuss questions which involved
peace or war, and on which the whole future of the islands and
of the native race depended, so that it was in the highest degree
essential that I should fully and entirely comprehend their thoughts
and intentions, and that they should not in any way misunderstand
the nature of the engagements into which I entered with them.
To my surprise, however, I found that these chiefs, either
in their speeches to me or in their letters, frequently quoted,
in explanation of their views and intentions, fragments of ancient
poems or proverbs, or made allusions which rested on an ancient
system of mythology; and, although it was clear that the most
important parts of their communications were embodied in these
figurative forms, the interpreters were quite at fault, they
could then rarely (if ever) translate the poems or explain the
allusions, and there was no publication in existence which threw
any light upon these subjects, or which gave the meaning of the
great mass of the words which the natives upon such occasions
made use of; so that I was compelled to content myself with a
short general statement of what some other native believed that
the writer of the letter intended to convey as his meaning by
the fragment of the poem he had quoted or by the allusions he
had made. I should add that even the great majority of the young
Christian Maoris were quite as much at fault on these subjects
as were the European interpreters.
Clearly, however, I could not, as Governor of the country,
permit so close a veil to remain drawn between myself and the
aged and influential chiefs whom it was my duty to attach to
British interests and to the British race, whose regard and confidence,
as also that of their tribes, it was my desire to secure, and
with whom it was necessary that I should hold the most unrestricted
intercourse. Only one thing could under such circumstances be
done, and that was to acquaint myself with the ancient language
of the country, to collect its traditional poems and legends,
to Induce their priests to impart to me their mythology, and
to study their proverbs. For more than eight years I devoted
a great part of my available time to these pursuits. indeed,
I worked at this duty in my spare moments in every part of the
country I traversed and during my many voyages from portion to
portion of the islands. I was also always accompanied by natives,
and still at every possible interval pursued my inquiries into
these subjects. Once, when I had with great pains amassed a large
mass of materials to aid me in my studies, the Government House
was destroyed by fire, and with it were burnt the materials I
had so collected, and thus I was left to commence again my difficult
and wearying task.
The ultimate result, however, was, that I acquired a great
amount of information on these subjects, and collected a large
mass of materials, which was, however, from the manner in which
they were acquired, in a very scattered state-for different portions
of the same poem or legend were often collected from different
natives, in very distant parts of the country; long intervals
of time, also, frequently elapsed after I had obtained one part
of a poem or legend, before I could find a native accurately
acquainted with another portion of it; consequently the fragments
thus obtained were scattered through different notebooks, and,
before they could be given to the public, required to be carefully
arranged and rewritten, and, what was still more difficult (whether
viewed in reference to the real difficulty of fairly translating
the ancient language in which they were composed, or my many
public duties), it was necessary that they should be translated.
Having, however, with much toil acquired information which
I found so useful to myself, I felt unwilling that the result
of my labours should be lost to those whose duty it may be hereafter
to deal with the Maoris; and I therefore undertook a new task,
which I have often, very often, been sorely tempted to abandon;
but the same sense of duty which made me originally enter upon
the study of the native language has enabled me to persevere
up to the present period, when I have already published one large
volume in the native language, containing a very extensive collection
of the ancient traditional poems, religious chants, and songs,
of the Maori race, and I now present to the European reader a
translation of the principal portions of their ancient mythology
and of some of their most interesting legends.
Another reason that has made me anxious to impart to the public
the most material portions of the information I have thus attained
is that, probably, to no other person but myself would many of
their ancient rhythmical prayers and traditions have been imparted
by their priests; and it is less likely that anyone could now
acquire them, as I regret to say that most of their old chiefs
and even some of the middle-aged ones who aided me in my researches,
have already passed to the tomb.
With regard to the style of the translation a few words are
required; I fear in point of care and language it will not satisfy
the critical reader; but I can truly say that I have had no leisure
carefully to revise it; the translation is also faithful, and
it is almost impossible closely and faithfully to translate a
very difficult language without almost insensibly falling somewhat
into the idiom and form of construction of that language, which,
perhaps, from its unusualness may prove unpleasant to the European
ear and mind, and this must be essentially the case in a work
like the present, no considerable continuous portion of the original
whereof was derived from one person, but which is compiled from
the written or orally delivered narratives of many, each differing
from the others in style, and some even materially from the rest
in dialect.
I have said that the translation is close and faithful: it
is so to the full extent of my powers and from the little time
I have had at my disposal. I have done no more than add in some
places such few explanatory words as were necessary to enable
a person unacquainted with the productions, customs, or religion
of the country, to understand what the narrator meant. For the
first time, I believe, a European reader will find it in his
power to place himself in the position of one who listens to
a heathen and savage high-priest, explaining to him, in his own
words and in his own energetic manner, the traditions in which
he earnestly believes, and unfolding the religious opinions upon
which the faith and hopes of his race rest.
That their traditions are puerile is true; that the religious
faith of the races who trust in them is absurd is a melancholy
fact; but all my experience leads me to believe that the Saxon,
Celtic, and Scandinavian systems of mythology, could we have
become intimately acquainted with them, would be found in no
respects to surpass that one which the European reader may now
thoroughly understand. I believe that the ignorance which has
prevailed regarding the mythological systems of barbarous or
semi-barbarous races has too generally led to their being considered
far grander and more reasonable than they really were.
But the puerility of these traditions and barbarous mythological
systems by no means diminishes their importance as regards their
influence upon the human race. Those contained in the present
volume have, with slight modifications, prevailed perhaps considerably
more than two thousand years throughout the great mass of the
islands of the Pacific Ocean; and, indeed, the religious system
of ancient Mexico was, probably, to some extent connected with
them. They have been believed in and obeyed by many millions
of the human race; and it is still more melancholy to reflect
that they were based upon a system of human sacrifices to the
gods; so that, if we allow them to have existed for two thousand
years, and that, in accordance with the rites which are based
upon them, at least two thousand human victims were annually
sacrificed throughout the whole extent of the numerous islands
in which they prevailed (both of which suppositions are probably
much within the truth), then at least four millions of human
beings have been offered in sacrifice to false gods; and to this
number we should have to add a frightful list of children murdered
under the system of infanticide, which the same traditions encouraged,
as also a very large number of persons, destroyed for having
been believed guilty of the crime of sorcery or witchcraft.
It must further be borne in mind that the native races who
believed in these traditions or superstitions are in no way deficient
in intellect, and in no respect incapable of receiving the truths
of Christianity; on the contrary, they readily embrace its doctrines
and submit to its rules; in our schools they stand a fair comparison
with Europeans, and, when instructed in Christian truths, blush
at their own former ignorance and superstitions, and look back
with shame and loathing upon their previous state of wickedness
and credulity; and yet for a great part of their lives have they,
and for thousands of years before they were born have their forefathers,
implicitly submitted themselves to those very superstitions,
and followed those cruel and barbarous rites.
Children of Heaven and Earth
KO NGA TAMA A RANGI
Tradition relating to the Origin of the Human
Race
MEN had but one pair of primitive ancestors;
they sprang from the vast heaven that exists above us, and from
the earth which lies beneath us. according to the traditions
of our race, Rangi and Papa, or Heaven and Earth, were the source
from which, in the beginning, all things originated. Darkness
then rested upon the heaven and upon the earth, and they still
both clave together, for they had not yet been rent apart; and
the children they had begotten were ever thinking amongst themselves
what might be the difference between darkness and light; they
knew that beings had multiplied and increased, and yet light
had never broken upon them, but it ever continued dark. Hence
these sayings are found in our ancient religious services: 'There
was darkness from the first division of time, unto the tenth,
to the hundredth, to the thousandth', that is, for a vast space
of time; and these divisions of times were considered as beings,
and were each termed 'a Po'; and on their account there was as
yet no world with its bright light, but darkness only for the
beings which existed.
At last the beings who had been begotten by Heaven and Earth,
worn out by the continued darkness, consulted amongst themselves,
saying: 'Let us now determine what we should do with Rangi and
Papa, whether it would be better to slay them or to rend them
apart.' Then spoke Tu-matauenga, the fiercest of the children
of Heaven and Earth: 'It is well, let us slay them.'
Then spake Tane-mahuta, the father of forests and of all things
that inhabit them, or that are constructed from trees: 'Nay,
not so. It is better to rend them apart, and to let the heaven
stand far above us, and the earth lie under our feet. Let the
sky become as a stranger to us, but the earth remain close to
us as our nursing mother.'
The brothers all consented to this proposal, with the exception
of Tawhiri-ma-tea, the father of winds and storms, and he, fearing
that his kingdom was about to be overthrown, grieved greatly
at the thought of his parents being torn apart. Five of the brothers
willingly consented to the separation of their parents, but one
of them would not agree to it.
Hence, also, these sayings of old are found in our prayers:
'Darkness, darkness, light, light, the seeking, the searching,
in chaos, in chaos'; these signified the way in which the offspring
of heaven and earth sought for some mode of dealing with their
parents, so that human beings might increase and live.
So, also, these sayings of old time. 'The multitude, the length
, signified the multitude of the thoughts of the children of
Heaven and Earth, and the length of time they considered whether
they should slay their parents, that human beings might be called
into existence; for it was in this manner that they talked and
consulted amongst themselves.
But at length their plans having been agreed on, lo, Rongo-ma-tane,
the god and father of the cultivated food of man, rises up, that
he may rend apart the heavens and the earth; he struggles, but
he tends them not apart. Lo, next, Tangaroa, the god and father
of fish and reptiles, rises up, that he may rend apart the heavens
and the earth; he also struggles, but he rends them not apart.
Lo, next, Haumia-tikitiki, the god and father of the food of
man which springs without cultivation, rises up and struggles,
but ineffectually. Lo, then, Tu-matauenga, the god and father
of fierce human beings, rises up and struggles, but he, too,
fails in his efforts. Then, at last, slowly uprises Tane-mahuta,
the god and father of forests, of birds, and of insects, and
he struggles. With his parents; in vain he strives to rend them
apart with his hands and arms. Lo, he pauses; his head is now
firmly planted on his mother the earth, his feet he raises up
and rests against his father the skies, he strains his back and
limbs with mighty effort. Now are rent apart Rangi and Papa,
and with cries and groans of woe they shriek aloud: 'Wherefore
slay you thus your parents? Why commit you so dreadful a crime
as to slay us, as to rend your parents apart? But Tane-mahuta
pauses not, he regards not their shrieks and cries; far, far
beneath him he presses down the earth; far, far above him he
thrusts up the sky.
Hence these sayings of olden time: 'It was the fierce thrusting
of Tane which tore the heaven from the earth, so that they were
rent apart, and darkness was made manifest, and so was the light.'
No sooner was heaven rent from earth than the multitude of
human beings were discovered whom they had begotten, and who
had hitherto lain concealed between the bodies of Rangi and Papa.
Then, also, there arose in the breast of Tawhiri-ma-tea, the
god and father of winds and storms, a fierce desire to wage war
with his brothers, because they had rent apart their common parents.
He from the first had refused to consent to his mother being
torn from her lord and children; it was his brothers alone that
wished for this separation, and desired that Papa-tu-a-nuku,
or the Earth alone, should be left as a parent for them.
The god of hurricanes and storms dreads also that the world
should become too fair and beautiful, so he rises, follows his
father to the realm above, and hurries to the sheltered hollows
in the boundless skies; there he hides and clings, and nestling
in this place of rest he consults long with his parent, and as
the vast Heaven listens to the suggestions of Tawhiri-ma-tea,
thoughts and plans are formed in his breast, and Tawhiri-ma-tea
also understands what he should do. Then by himself and the vast
Heaven were begotten his numerous brood, and they rapidly increased
and grew. Tawhiri-ma-tea despatches one of them to the westward,
and one to the southward, and one to the eastward, and one to
the northward; and he gives corresponding names to himself and
to his progeny the mighty winds.
He next sends forth fierce squalls, whirlwinds, dense clouds,
massy clouds, dark clouds, gloomy thick clouds, fiery clouds,
clouds which precede hurricanes, clouds of fiery black, clouds
reflecting glowing red light, clouds wildly drifting from all
quarters and wildly bursting, clouds of thunder storms, and clouds
hurriedly flying. in the midst of these Tawhiri-ma-tea himself
sweeps wildly on. Alas! alas! then rages the fierce hurricane;
and whilst Tane-mahuta and his gigantic forests still stand,
unconscious and unsuspecting, the blast of the breath of the
mouth of Tawhiri-ma-tea smites them, the gigantic trees are snapt
off right in the middle; alas! alas! they are rent to atoms,
dashed to the earth, with boughs and branches torn and scattered,
and lying on the earth, trees and branches all alike left for
the insect, for the grub, and for loathsome rottenness.
From the forests and their inhabitants Tawhiri-ma-tea next
swoops down upon the seas, and lashes in his wrath the ocean.
Ah! ah! waves steep as cliffs arise, whose summits are so lofty
that to look from them would make the beholder giddy; these soon
eddy in whirlpools, and Tangaroa, the god of ocean, and father
of all that dwell therein, flies affrighted through his seas;
but before he fled, his children consulted together how they
might secure their safety, for Tangaroa had begotten Punga, and
he had begotten two children, Ika-tere, the father of fish, and
Tu-te-wehiwehi, or Tu-te-wanawana, the father of reptiles.
When Tangaroa fled for safety to the ocean, then Tu-te-wehiwehi
and Ika-tere, and their children, disputed together as to what
they should do to escape from the storms, and Tu-te-wehiwehi
and his party cried aloud: 'Let us fly inland'; but Ika-tere
and his party cried aloud: 'Let us fly to the sea.' Some would
not obey one order, some would not obey the other, and they escaped
in two parties: the party of Tu-te-wehiwehi, or the reptiles,
hid themselves ashore; the party of Punga rushed to the sea.
This is what, in our ancient religious services, is called the
separation of Tawhiri-ma-tea.
Hence these traditions have been handed down: 'Ika-tere, the
father of things which inhabit water, cried aloud to Tu-te-wehiwehi:
"Ho, ho, let us all escape to the sea."
'But Tu-te-wehiwehi shouted in answer: "Nay, nay, let
us rather fly inland."
'Then Ika-tere warned him, saying: "Fly inland, then;
and the fate of you and your race will be, that when they catch
you, before you are cooked, they will singe off your scales over
a lighted wisp of dry fern."
'But Tu-te-wehiwehi answered him, saying: "Seek safety,
then, in the sea; and the future fate of your race will be, that
when they serve out little baskets of cooked vegetable food to
each person, you will be laid upon the top of the food to give
a relish to it."
'Then without delay these two races of beings separated. The
fish fled in confusion to the sea, the reptiles sought safety
in the forests and scrubs.'
Tangaroa, enraged at some of his children deserting him, and,
being sheltered by the god of the forests on dry land, has ever
since waged war on his brother Tane, who, in return, has waged
war against him.
Hence Tane supplies the offspring of his brother Tu-matauenga
with canoes, with spears and with fish-hooks made from his trees,
and with nets woven from his fibrous plants, that they may destroy
the offspring of Tangaroa; whilst Tangaroa, in return, swallows
up the offspring of Tane, overwhelming canoes with the surges
of his sea, swallowing up the lands, trees, and houses that are
swept off by floods, and ever wastes away, with his lapping waves,
the shores that confine him, that the giants of the forests may
be washed down and swept out into his boundless ocean, that he
may then swallow up the insects, the young birds, and the various
animals which inhabit them-all which things are recorded in the
prayers which were offered to these gods.
Tawhiri-ma-tea next rushed on to attack his brothers Rongoma-tane
and Haumia-tikitiki, the gods and progenitors of cultivated and
uncultivated food; but Papa, to save these for her other children,
caught them up, and hid them in a place of safety; and so well
were these children of hers concealed by their mother Earth,
that Tawhiri-ma-tea sought for them in vain.
Tawhiri-ma-tea having thus vanquished all his other brothers,
next rushed against Tu-matauenga, to try his strength against
his; he exerted all his force against him, but he could neither
shake him nor prevail against him. What did Tu-matauenga care
for his brother's wrath? he was the only one of the whole party
of brothers who had planned the destruction of their parents,
and had shown himself brave and fierce in war; his brothers had
yielded at once before the tremendous assaults of Tawhiri-ma-tea
and his progeny-Tane-mahuta and his offspring had been broken
and torn in pieces-Tangaroa and his children had fled to the
depths of the ocean or the recesses of the shore-Rongo-ma-tane
and Haumia-tikitiki had been hidden from him in the earth-but
Tu-matauenga, or man, still stood erect and unshaken upon the
breast of his mother Earth; and now at length the hearts of Heaven
and of the god of storms became tranquil, and their passions
were assuaged.
Tu-matauenga, or fierce man, having thus successfully resisted
his brother, the god of hurricanes and storms, next took thought
how he could turn upon his brothers and slay them, because they
had not assisted him or fought bravely when Tawhiri-ma-tea had
attacked them to avenge the separation of their parents, and
because they had left him alone to show his prowess in the fight.
As yet death had no power over man. It was not until the birth
of the children of Taranga and of Makea-tu-tara, of Maui-taha,
of Maui-roto, of Maui-pae, of Maui-waho, and of Maui-tikitiki-o-Taranga,
the demi-god who tried to beguile Hine-nui-te-po, that death
had power over men. If that goddess had not been deceived by
Maui-tikitiki, men would not have died, but would in that case
have lived for ever; it was from his deceiving Hine-nui-te-po
that death obtained power over mankind, and penetrated to every
part of the earth.
Tu-matauenga continued to reflect upon the cowardly manner
in which his brothers had acted, in leaving him to show his courage
alone, and he first sought some means of injuring Tanemahuta,
because he had not come to aid him in his combat with Tawhiri-ma-tea,
and partly because he was aware that Tane had had a numerous
progeny, who were rapidly increasing, and might at last prove
hostile to him, and injure him, so he began to collect leaves
of the whanake tree, and twisted them into nooses, and when his
work was ended, he went to the forest to put up his snares, and
hung them up-ha! ha! the children of Tane fell before him, none
of them could any longer fly or move in safety.
Then he next determined to take revenge on his brother Tangaroa,
who had also deserted him in the combat; so he sought for his
offspring, and found them leaping or swimming in the water; then
he cut many leaves from the flax-plant, and netted nets with
the flax, and dragged these, and hauled the children of Tangaroa
ashore.
After that, he determined also to be revenged upon his brothers
Rongo-ma-tane and Haumia-tikitiki; he soon found them by their
peculiar leaves, and he scraped into shape a wooden hoe, and
plaited a basket, and dug In the earth and pulled up all kinds
of plants with edible roots, and the plants which had been dug
up withered in the sun.
Thus Tu-matauenga devoured all his brothers, and consumed
the whole of them, in revenge for their having deserted him and
left him to fight alone against Tawhiri-ma-tea and Rangi.
When his brothers had all thus been overcome by Tu', he assumed
several names, namely, Tu-ka-riri, Tu-ka-nguha, Tu-ka-taua, Tu-whaka-heke-tangata,
Tu-mata-wha-iti, and Tu-mata-uenga; he assumed one name for each
of his attributes displayed in the victories over his brothers.
Four of his brothers were entirely deposed by him, and became
his food; but one of them, Tawhiri-ma-tea, he could not vanquish
or make common, by eating him for food, so he, the last born
child of Heaven and Earth, was left as an enemy for man, and
still, with a rage equal to that of Man, this elder brother ever
attacks him in storms and hurricanes, endeavouring to destroy
him alike by sea and land.
Now, the meanings of these names of the children of the Heaven
and Earth are as follows:
Tangaroa signifies fish of every kind; Rongo-ma-tane signifies
the sweet potato, and all vegetables cultivated as food; Haumia-tikitiki
signifies fern root, and all kinds of food which grow wild; Tane-mahuta
signifies forests, the birds and insects which inhabit them,
and all things fashioned from wood; Tawhiri-ma-tea signifies
winds and storms; and Tu-matauenga signifies man.
Four of his brothers having, as before stated, been made common,
or articles of food, by Tu-matauenga, he assigned for each of
them fitting incantations, that they might be abundant, and that
he might easily obtam them.
Some incantations were proper to Tane-mahuta, they were called
Tane.
Some incantations were for Tangaroa, they were called Tangaroa.
Some were for Rongo-ma-tane, they were called Rongoma-tane.
Some were for Haumia-tikitiki, they were called Haumia.
The reason that he sought out these incantations was, that
his brothers might be made common by him, and serve for his food.
There were also incantations for Tawhiri-ma-tea to cause favourable
winds, and prayers to the vast Heaven for fair weather, as also
for mother Earth that she might produce all things abundantly.
But it was the great God that taught these prayers to man.
There were also many prayers and incantations composed for
man, suited to the different times and circumstances of his life-prayers
at the baptism of an infant; prayers for abundance of food, for
wealth; prayers in illness; prayers to spirits, and for many
other things.
The bursting forth of the wrathful fury of Tawhiri-ma-tea
against his brothers, was the cause of the disappearance of a
great part of the dry land; during that contest a great part
of mother Earth was submerged. The names of those beings of ancient
days who submerged so large a portion of the earth wereTerrible-rain,
Long-continued rain, Fierce-hailstorms; and their progeny were,
Mist, Heavy-dew, and Light-dew, and these together submerged
the greater part of the earth, so that only a small portion of
dry land projected above the sea.
From that time clear light increased upon the earth, and all
the beings which were hidden between Rangi and Papa before they
were separated, now multiplied upon the earth. The first beings
begotten by Rangi and Papa were not like human beings; but Tu-matauenga
bore the likeness of a man, as did all his brothers, as also
did a Po, a Ao, a Kore, te Kimihanga and Runuku, and thus it
continued until the times of Ngaimui and his generation, and
of Whiro-te-tupua and his generation, and of Tiki-tawhito-ariki
and his generation, and it has so continued to this day.
The children of Tu-matauenga were begotten on this earth,
and they increased,, and continued to multiply, until we reach
at last the generation of Maui-taha, and of his brothers Maui-roto,
Maui-waho, Maui-pae, and Maui-tikitiki-o-Taranga.
Up to this time the vast Heaven has still ever remained separated
from his spouse the Earth. Yet their mutual love still continuesthe
soft warm sighs of her loving bosom still ever rise up to him,
ascending from the woody mountains and valleys and men can these
mists; and the vast Heaven, as he mourns through the long nights
his separation from his beloved, drops frequent tears upon her
bosom, and men seeing these, term them dew-drops.
The Legend of Maui
ONE day Maui asked his brothers to
tell him the place where their father and mother dwelt; he begged
earnestly that they would make this known to him in order that
he might go and visit the place where the two old people dwelt;
and they replied to him: 'We don't know; how can we tell whether
they dwell up above the earth, or down under the earth, or at
a distance from up.' Then he answered them: 'Never mind, I think
I'll find them out'; and his brothers replied: 'Nonsense, how
can you tell where they are-you, the last born of all of us,
when we your elders have no knowledge where they are concealed
from us; after you first appeared to us, and made yourself known
to us and to our mother as our brother, you know that our mother
used to come and sleep with us every night, and as soon as the
day broke she was gone, and, lo, there was nobody but ourselves
sleeping in the house, and this took place night after night,
and how can we tell then where she went or where she lives? But
he answered: 'Very well, you stop here and listen; by and by
you will hear news of me.'
For he had found something out after he was discovered by
his mother, by his relations, and by his brothers. They discovered
him one night whilst they were all dancing in the great House
of Assembly. Whilst his relations were all dancing there, they
found out who he was in this manner. For little Maui, the infant,
crept into the house, and went and sat behind one of his brothers,
and hid himself, so when their mother counted her children that
they might stand up ready for the dance, she said: 'One, that's
Maui-taha; two, that's Maui-roto; three, that's Maui-pae, four,
that's Maui-waho'; and then she saw another, and cried out: 'Hallo,
where did this fifth come from? Then little Maui, the infant,
answered: 'Ah, I'm your child too.' Then the old woman counted
them all over again, and said: 'Oh, no, there ought to be only
four of you; now for the first time I've seen you.' Then little
Maui and his mother stood for a long time disputing about this
in the very middle of the ranks of all the dancers.
At last she got angry, and cried out: 'Come, you be off now,
out of the house at once; you are no child of mine, you belong
to someone else.' Then little Maui spoke out quite boldly, and
said: 'Very well, I'd better be off then, for I suppose, as you
say it, I must be the child of some other person; but indeed
I did think I was your child when I said so, because I knew I
was born at the side of the sea,[1] and was thrown by you into
the foam of the surf, after you had wrapped me up in a tuft of
your hair, which you cut off for the purpose; then the seaweed
formed and fashioned me, as caught in its long tangles the ever-heaving
surges of the sea rolled me, folded as I was in them, from side
to side; at length the breezes and squalls which blew from the
ocean drifted me on shore again, and the soft jelly-fish of the
long sandy beaches rolled themselves round me to protect me;
then again myriads of flies alighted on me to buzz about me and
lay
[1. If a child was born before its time, and thus perished
without having known the joys and pleasures of life, it was carefully
buried with peculiar incantations and ceremonies; because if
cast into the water, or carelessly thrown aside, it became a
malicious being or spirit, actuated by a peculiar antipathy to
the human race, who it spitefully persecuted, from having been
itself deprived of happiness which they enjoyed. All their malicious
deities had an origin of this kind.]
their eggs, that maggots might eat me, and flocks of birds
collected round me to peck me to pieces, but at that moment appeared
there also my great ancestor, Tama-nui-ki-te-Rangi, and he saw
the flies and the birds collected in clusters and flocks above
the jelly-fish, and the old man ran, as fast as he could, and
stripped off the encircling jelly-fish, and behold within there
lay a human being; then he caught me up and carried me to his
house, and he hung me up in the roof that I might feel the warm
smoke and the heat of the fire, so I was saved alive by the kindness
of that old man. At last I grew, and then I heard of the fame
of the dancing of this great House of Assembly. It was that which
brought me here. But from the time I was in your womb, I have
heard the names of these your first born children, as you have
been calling them over until this very night, when I again heard
you repeating them. in proof of this I will now recite your names
to you, my brothers. You are Maui-taha, and you are Maui-roto,
and you are Maui-pae, and you are Maui-waho, and as for me, I'm
little Maui-the-baby, and here I am sitting before you.'
When his Mother, Taranga, heard all this, she cried out: 'You
dear little child, you are indeed my last-born, the son of my
old age, therefore I now tell you your name shall be Maui-tikitiki-a-Taranga,
or Maui-formed-in-the-top-knot-of-Taranga', and he was called
by that name.
After the disputing which took place on that occasion, his
mother, Taranga, called to her last-born: 'Come here, my child,
and sleep with the mother who bore you, that I may kiss you,
and that you may kiss me', and he ran to sleep with his mother.
Then his elder brothers werejealous, and began to murmur about
this to each other. 'Well, indeed, our mother never asks us to
go and sleep with her; yet we are the children she saw actually
born, and about whose birth there is no doubt. When we were little
things she nursed us, laying us down gently on the large soft
mats she had spread out for us-then why does she not ask us now
to sleep with her? when we were little things she was fond enough
of us, but now we are grown older she never caresses us, or treats
us kindly. But as for this little abortion, who can really tell
whether he was nursed by the sea-tangles or by whom, or whether
he is not some other person's child, and here he is now sleeping
with our mother. Who would ever have believed that a little abortion,
thrown into the ocean, would have come back to the world again
a living human being!-and now this little rogue has the impudence
to call himself a relation of ours.'
Then the two elder brothers said to the two younger ones:
'Never mind, let him be our dear brother; in the days of peace
remember the proverb-when you are on friendly terms, settle your
disputes in a friendly way-when you are at war, you must redress
your injuries by violence. It is better for us, oh, brothers,
to be kind to other people; these are the ways by which men gain
influence in the world-by labouring for abundance of food to
feed others-by collecting property to give to others, and by
similar means by which you promote the good of others, so that
peace spreads through the world. Let us take care that we are
not like the children of Rangi-nui and of Papa-tu-a-nuku, who
turned over in their minds thoughts for slaying: their parents;
four of them consented, but Tawhiri-ma-tea had little desire
for this, for he loved his parents; but the rest of his brothers
agreed to slay them; afterwards when Tawhiri, saw that the husband
was separated far from his wife, then he thought what it was
his duty to do, and he fought against his brothers. Thence sprang
the cause which led Tu-matauenga to wage war against his brethren
and his parents, and now at last this contest is carried on even
between his own kindred, so that man fights against man. Therefore
let us be careful not to foster divisions amongst ourselves,
lest such wicked thoughts should finally turn us each against
the other, and thus we should be like the children of Rangi-nui
and of Papa-tu-a-nuku.' Two younger brothers, when they heard
this, answered: 'Yes, yes, oh, eldest brothers of ours, you are
quite right; let our murmuring end here.'
It was now night; but early in the morning Taranga rose up,
and suddenly, In a moment of time, she was gone from the house
where her children were. As soon as they woke up they looked
all about to no purpose, as they could not see her; the elder
brothers knew she had left them, and were accustomed to it; but
the little child was exceedingly vexed; yet he thought, I cannot
see her, 'tis true, but perhaps she has only gone to prepare
some food for us. No-no-she was off, far, far away.
Now at nightfall when their mother came back to them, her
children were dancing and singing as usual. As soon as they had
finished, she called to her last bom: 'Come here, my child, let
us sleep together'; so they slept together; but as soon as day
dawned, she disappeared; the little fellow now felt quite suspicious
at such strange proceedings on the part of his mother every morning.
But at last, upon another night, as he slept again with his mother,
the rest of his brothers that night also sleeping with them,
the little fellow crept out in the night and stole his mother's
apron, her belt, and clothes, and hid them; then he went and
stopped up every crevice in the wooden window, and in the doorway,
so that the light of the dawn might not shine into the house,
and make his mother hurry to get up. But after he had done this,
his little heart still felt very anxious and uneasy lest his
mother should, in her impatience, rise in the darkness and defeat
his plans. But the night dragged its slow length along without
his mother moving; at last there came the faint light of early
mom, so that at one end of a long house you could see the legs
of the people sleeping at the other end of it, but his mother
still slept on; then the sun rose up, and mounted far up above
the horizon; now at last his mother moved, and began to think
to herself, 'What kind of night can this be, to last so long?
and having thought thus, she dropped asleep again. Again she
woke, and began to think to herself, but could not tell that
it was broad daylight outside, as the window and every chink
in the house were stopped closely up.
At last up she jumped; and finding herself quite naked, began
to look for her clothes, and apron, but could find neither; then
she ran and pulled out the things with which the chinks in the
windows and doors were stopped up, and whilst doing so, oh ,
dear! oh, dear! there she saw the sun high up in the heavens;
then she snatched up, as she ran off, the old clout of a flax
cloak, with which the door of the house had been stopped up,
and carried it off as her only covering; getting, at last, outside
the house, she hurried away, and ran crying at the thought of
having been so badly treated by her own children.
As soon as his mother got outside the house, little Maui jumped
up, and kneeling upon his hands and knees peeped after her though
the doorway into the bright light. Whilst he was watching her,
the old woman reached down to a tuft of rushes, and snatching
it up from the ground, dropped into a hole underneath it, and
clapping the tuft of rushes in the hole again, as if it were
its covering, so disappeared. Then little Maui jumped on his
feet, and, as hard as he could go, ran out of the house, pulled
up the tuft of rushes, and peeping down, discovered a beautiful
open cave running quite deep into the earth.
He covered up the hole again and returned to the house, and
waking up his brothers who were still sleeping, said: 'Come,
come, my brothers, rouse up, you have slept long enough; come,
get up; here we are again cajoled by our mother.' Then his brothers
made haste and got up; alas! alas! the sun was quite high up
in the heavens.
The little Maui now asked his brothers again: 'Where do you
think the place is where our father and mother dwell? and they
answered: 'How should we know, we have never seen it; although
we are Maui-taha, and Maui-roto, and Maui-pae, and Maui-waho,
we have never seen the place; and do you think you can fitid
that place which you are so anxious to see? What does it signify
to you? Cannot you stop quietly with us? What do we care about
our father, or about our mother? Did she feed us with food till
we grew up to be men?-not a bit of it. Why, without doubt, Rangi,
or the heaven, is our father, who kindly sent his offspring down
to us; Hau-whenua, or gentle breezes, to cool the earth and young
plants; and Hau-ma-ringiringi, or mists, to moisten them; and
Hau-ma-roto-roto, or fine weather, to make them grow; and Touarangi,
or rain, to water them; and Tomairangi, or dews, to nourish them:
he gave these his offspring to cause our food to grow, and then
Papa-tu-a-nuku, or the earth, made her seeds to spring, and grow
forth, and provide sustenance for her children in this long-continuing
world.'
Little Maui then answered: 'What you say is truly quite correct;
but such thoughts and sayings would better become me than you,
for in the foaming bubbles of the sea I was nursed and fed: it
would please me better if you would think over and remember the
time when you were nursed at your mother's breast; it could not
have been until after you had ceased to be nourished by her milk
that you could have eaten the kinds of food you have mentioned;
as for me, oh! my brothers, I have never partaken either of her
milk or of her food; yet I love her, for this single reason alone-that
I lay in her womb; and because I love her, I wish to know where
is the place where she and my father dwell.'
His brothers felt quite surprised and pleased with their little
brother when they heard him talk in this way, and when after
a little time they had recovered from their amazement, they told
him to try and find their father and mother. So he said he would
go. It was a long time ago that he had finished his first labour,
for when he first appeared to his relatives in their house of
singing and dancing, he had on that occasion transformed himself
into the likeness of all manner of birds, of every bird in the
world, and yet no single form that he then assumed had pleased
his brothers; but now when he showed himself to them, transformed
into the semblance of a pigeon, his brothers said: 'Ah! now indeed,
oh, brother, you do look very well indeed, very beautiful, very
beautiful, much more beautiful than you looked in any of the
other forms which you assumed, and then changed from, when you
first discovered yourself to us.'
What made him now look so well in the shape he had assumed
was the belt of his mother, and her apron, which he had stolen
from her while she was asleep in the house; for the very thing
which looked so white upon the breast of the pigeon was his mother's
broad belt, and he also had on her little apron of burnished
hair from the tail of a dog, and the fastening of her belt was
what formed the beautiful black feathers on his throat. He had
once changed himself into this form a long time ago, and now
that he was going to look for his father and mother, and had
quitted his brothers to transform himself into the likeness of
a pigeon, he assumed exactly the same form as on the previous
occasion, and when his brothers saw him thus again, they said:
'Oh, brother, oh, brother! you do really look well indeed'; and
when he sat upon the bough of a tree, oh, dear! he never moved,
or jumped about from spray to spray, but sat quite still, cooing
to himself, so that no one who had seen him could have helped
thinking of the proverb: 'A stupid pigeon sits on one bough,
and jumps not from spray to spray'. Early the next morning, he
said to his brothers, as was first stated: 'Now do you remain
here, and you will hear something of me after I am gone; it is
my great love for my parents that leads me to search for them;
now listen to me, and then say whether or not my recent feats
were not remarkable. For the feat of transforming oneself into
birds can only be accomplished by a man who is skilled in magic,
and yet here I, the youngest of you all, have assumed the form
of all birds, and now, perhaps, after all, I shall quite lose
my art and become old and weakened in the long journey to the
place where I am going.' His brothers answered him thus: 'That
might be indeed, if you were going upon a warlike expedition,
but, in truth, you are only going to look for those parents whom
we all so long to see, and if they are found by you, we shall
ever after all dwell happily, our present sorrow will be ended,
and we shall continually pass backwards and forwards between
our dwellingplace and theirs, paying them happy visits.'
He answered them: 'It is certainly a very good cause which
leads me to undertake this journey, and if, when reaching the
place I am going to, I find everything agreeable and nice, then
I shall, perhaps, be pleased with it, but if I find it a bad,
disagreeable place, I shall be disgusted with it.' They replied
to him: 'What you say is exceedingly true, depart then upon your
journey, with your great knowledge and skill in magic.' Then
their brother went into the wood, and came back to them again,
looking just as if he were a real pigeon. His brothers were quite
delighted, and they had no power left to do anything but admire
him.
Then off he flew, until he came to the cave which his mother
had run down into, and he lifted up the tuft of rushes; then
down he went and disappeared in the cave, and shut up its mouth
again so as to hide the entrance; away he flew very fast indeed,
and twice he dipped his wing, because the cave was narrow; soon
he reached nearly to the bottom of the cave, and flew along it;
and again, because the cave was so narrow, he dips first one
wing and then the other, but the cave now widened, and he dashed
straight on.
At last he saw a party of people coming alone under a grove
of trees, they were manapau trees,[1] and flying on, he perched
upon the top of one of these trees, under which the people had
seated themselves; and when he saw his mother lying down on the
grass by the side of her husband, he guessed at once who they
were, and he thought: 'Ah! there sit my father and mother right
under me'; and he soon heard their names, as they were called
to by their friends who were sitting with them; then the pigeon
hopped down, and perched on another spray a little lower, and
it pecked off one of the berries of the tree and dropped it gently
down, and bit the father with it on the forehead; and some of
the party said: 'Was it a bird which threw that down? but the
father said: 'Oh no, it was only a berry that fell by chance.'
Then the pigeon again pecked off some of the berries from
the tree, and threw them down with all its force, and struck
both father and mother, so that he really hurt them; then they
cried out, and the whole party jumped up and looked into the
tree, and as the pigeon began to coo, they soon found out from
[1. The manapau was a species of tree peculiar to the country
from whence the people came, where the priests say it was known
by that name.]
the noise, where it was sitting amongst the leaves and branches,
and the whole of them, the chiefs and common people alike, caught
up stones to pelt the pigeon with, but they threw for a very
long time, Without hitting it; at last the father tried to throw
up at it; ah, he struck it, but Maui had himself contrived that
he should be struck by the stone which his father threw; for,
but by his own choice, no one could have bit him; he was struck
exactly upon his left leg, and down he fell, and as he lay fluttering
and struggling upon the ground, they all ran to catch him, but
lo, the pigeon had turned into a man.
Then all those who saw him were frightened at his fierce glaring
eyes, which were red as if painted with red ochre, and they said:
'Oh, it is now no wonder that he so long sat still up in the
tree; had he been a bird he would have flown off long before,
but he is a man': and some of them said: 'No, indeed, rather
a god-just look at his form and appearance, the like has never
been seen before, since Rangi and Papa-tu-a-nuku were torn apart.'
Then Taranga said, 'I used to see one who looked like this person
every night when I went to visit my children, but what I saw
then excelled what I see now; just listen to me. Once as I was
wandering upon the sea-shore, I prematurely gave birth to one
of my children, and I cut off the long tresses of my hair, and
bound him up in them, and threw him into the foam of the sea,
and after that be was found by his ancestor Tamanui-ki-te-Rangi';
and then she told his history nearly in the same words that Maui-the-infant
had told it to herself and his brothers in their house, and having
finished his history, Taranga ended her discourse to her husband
and his friends.
Then his mother asked Maui, who was sitting near her, 'Where
do you come from? from the westward? and he answered: 'No.' 'From
the north-east then? 'No.' 'From the south-east then? 'No.' 'From
the south then?' 'No.' 'Was it the wind which blows upon me,
which brought you here to me then?' when she asked this, he opened
his mouth and answered 'Yes.' And she cried out: 'Oh, this then
is indeed my child'; and she said: 'Are you Maui-taha?' he answered,
'No.' Then said she: 'Are you Maui-tikitiki-o-Taranga?' and he
answered 'Yes.' And she cried aloud: 'This is, indeed, my child.
By the winds and storms and wave-uplifting gales he was fashioned
and became a human being; welcome, oh my child, welcome; you
shall climb the threshold of the house of your great ancestor
Hine-nui-te-po, and death shall thenceforth have no power over
man.'
Then the lad was taken by his father to the water, to be baptized,
and after the ceremony prayers were offered to make him sacred,
and clean from all impurities; but when it was completed, his
father Makea-tu-tara felt greatly alarmed, because he remembered
that he had, from mistake, hurriedly skipped over part of the
prayers of the baptismal service, and of the services to purify
Maui; he knew that the gods would be certain to punish this fault,
by causing Maui to die, and his alarm and anxiety were therefore
extreme. At nightfall they all went into his house.
Maui, after these things, returned to his brothers to tell
them that he had found his parents, and to explain to them where
they dwelt.
Shortly after Maui had thus returned to his brothers, he slew
and carried off his first victim, who was the daughter of Marute-whare-aitu;
afterwards, by enchantments, he destroyed the crops of Maru-te-whare-aitu,
so that they all withered.
He then again paid a visit to his parents, and remained for
some time with them, and whilst he was there he remarked that
some of their people daily carried away a present of food for
some person; at length, surprised at this, he one day asked them:
'Who is that you are taking that present of food to? And the
people who were going with it answered him: 'It is for your ancestress,
for Muri-ranga-whenua.'
He asked again: 'Where does she dwell? They answered: 'Yonder.'
Thereupon he says: 'That will do; leave here the present of
food, I will carry it to her myself.'
From that time the daily presents of food for his ancestress
were carried by Maui himself; but he never took and gave them
to her that she might eat them, but he quietly laid them by on
one side, and this he did for many days. At last, Muri-ranga-whenua
suspected that something wrong was going on, and the next time
he came along the path carrying the present of food, the old
chieftainess sniffed and sniffed until she thought she smelt
something coming, and she was very much exasperated, and her
stomach began to distend itself, that she might be ready to devour
Maui as soon as he came there. Then she turned to the southward,
and smelt and sniffed, but not a scent of anything reached her;
then she turned round from the south to the north, by the east,
with her nose up in the air sniffing and smelling to every point
as she turned slowly round, but she could not detect the slightest
scent of a human being, and almost thought that she must have
been mistaken; but she made one more trial, and sniffed the breeze
towards the westward. Ah! then the scent of a man came plainly
to her, so she called aloud: 'I know from the smell wafted here
to me by the breeze that somebody is close to me', and Maui murmured
assent. Thus the old woman knew that be was a descendant of hers,
and her stomach, which was quite large and distended immediately
began to shrink, and contract itself again. If the smell of Maui
had not been carried to her by the western breeze, undoubtedly
she would have eaten him up.
When the stomach of Muri-ranga-whenua had quietly sunk down
to its usual size, her voice was again heard saying: 'Art thou
Maui? and he answered: 'Even so.'
Then she asked him: 'Wherefore has thou served thine old ancestress
in this deceitful way? and Maui answered: 'I was anxious that
thy jaw-bone, by which the great enchantments can be wrought,
should be given to me.'
She answered: 'Take it, it has been reserved for thee.' And
Maui took it, and having done so returned to the place where
he and his brothers dwelt.
The young hero, Maui, had not been long at home with his brothers
when he began to think, that it was too soon after the rising
of the sun that it became night again, and that the sun again
sank down below the horizon, every day, every day; in the same
manner the days appeared too short to him. So at last, one day
he said to his brothers: 'Let us now catch the sun in a noose,
so that we may compel him to move more slowly, in order that
mankind may have long days to labour in to procure subsistence
for themselves'; but they answered him: 'Why, no man could approach
it on account of its warmth, and the fierceness of its heat';
but the young hero said to them: 'Have you not seen the multitude
of things I have already achieved? Did not you see me change
myself into the likeness of every bird of the forest; you and
I equally had the aspect and appearance of men, yet I by my enchantments
changed suddenly from the appearance of a man and became a bird,
and then, continuing to change my form, I resembled this bird
or that bird, one after the other, until I had by degrees transformed
myself into every bird in the world, small or great; and did
I not after all this again assume the form of a man? [This he
did soon after he was born, and it was after that he snared the
sun.] Therefore, as for that feat, oh, my brothers, the changing
myself into birds, I accomplished it by enchantments, and I will
by the same means accomplish also this other thing which I have
in my mind.' When his brothers heard this, they consented on
his persuasions to aid him in the conquest of the sun.
Then they began to spin and twist ropes to form a noose to
catch the sun in, and in doing this they discovered the mode
of plaiting flax into stout square-shaped ropes, tuamaka;
and the manner of plaiting flat ropes, paharahara; and
of spinning round ropes; at last, they finished making all the
ropes which they required. Then Maw took up his enchanted weapon,
and he took his brothers with him, and they carried their provisions,
ropes, and other things with them, in their hands. They travelled
all night, and as soon as day broke, they halted in the desert,
and hid themselves that they might not be seen by the sun; and
at night they renewed their journe~, and before dawn they halted,
and hid themselves again; at length they got very far, very far,
to the eastward, and came to the very edge of the place out of
which the sun rises.
Then they set to work and built on each side of this place
a long high wall of clay, with huts of boughs of trees at each
end to hide themselves in; when these were finished, they made
the loops of the noose, and the brothers of Maui then lay in
wait on one side of die place out of which tht sun rises, and
Maui himself lay in wait upon the other side.
The young hero held in his hand his enchanted weapon, the
jaw-bone of his ancestress-of Muri-ranga-whenua, and said to
his brothers: 'Mind now, keep yourselves hid, and do not go showing
yourselves foolishly to the sun; if you do, you will frighten
him; but wait patiently until his head and fore-legs have got
well into the snare, then I will shout out; haul away as hard
as you can on the ropes on both sides, and then I'll rush out
and attack him, but do you keep your ropes tight for a good long
time (while I attack him), until he is nearly dead, when we will
let him go; but mind, now, my brothers, do not let him move you
to pity with his shrieks and screams.'
At last the sun came rising up out of his place, like a fire
spreading far and wide over the mountains and forests; he rises
up, his head passes through the noose, and it takes in more and
more of his body, until his fore-paws pass through; then were
pulled tight the ropes, and the monster began to struggle and
roll himself about, whilst the snarejerked backwards and forwards
as he struggled. Ah! was not he held fast in the ropes of his
enemies!
Then forth rushed that bold hero, Mau-tikitiki-o-Taranga,
with his enchanted weapon. Alas! the sun screams aloud; he roars;
Maui strikes him fiercely with many blows; they hold him for
a long time, at last they let him go, and then weak from wounds
the sun crept along its course. Then was learnt by men the second
name of the sun, for in its agony the sun screamed out: 'Why
am I thus smitten by you! oh, man! do you know what you are doing?
Why should you Wish to kill Tama-nuite-Ra? Thus was learnt his
second name. At last they let him go. Oh, then, Tama-nui-te-Ra
went very slowly and feebly on his course.
Maui-taha and his brothers afier this feat returned again
to their own house, and dwelt there, and dwelt there, and dwelt
there; and after a long time his brothers went out fishing, whilst
Maui-tikitiki-o-Taranga stopped idly at home doing nothing, although
indeed he had to listen to the sulky grumblings of his wives
and children, at his laziness in not catching fish for them.
Then he called out to the women, 'Never mind, oh, mothers, yourselves
and your children need not fear. Have not I accomphshed all things,
and as for this little feat, this trifling work of getting food
for you, do you think I cannot do that? certainly; if I go and
get a fish for you, it will be one so large that when I bring
it to land you will not be able to eat it all, and the sun will
shine on it and make it putrid before it is consurned.' Then
Maui snooded his enchanted fish-hook, which was pointed with
part of the jaw-bone of Muri-ranga-whenua, and when he had finished
this, he twisted a stout fishing-line to his hook.
His brothers in the meantime had arranged amongst themselves
to make fast the lashings of the top side of their canoe, in
order to go out for a good day's fishing. When all was made ready
they launched their canoe, and as soon as it was afloat Maui
jumped into it, and his brothers, who were afraid of his enchantments,
cried out: 'Come, get out again, we will not let you go with
us; your magical arts will get us into some difficulty.' So he
was compelled to remain ashore whilst his brothers paddled off,
and when they reached the fishing ground they lay upon their
paddles and fished, and after a good day's sport returned ashore.
As soon as it was dark night Maui went down to the shore,
got into his brothers' canoe, and hid himself under the bottom
boards of it. The next forenoon his brothers came down to the
shore to go fishing again, and they had their canoe launched,
and paddled out to sea without ever seeing Maw, who lay hid in
the hollow of the canoe under the bottom boards. When they got
well out to sea Maui crept out of his hiding place; as soon as
his brothers saw him, they said: 'We had better get back to the
shore again as fast as we can, since this fellow is on board';
but Maui, by his enchantments, stretched out the sea so that
the shore instantly became very distant from them, and by the
time they could turn themselves round to look for it, it was
out of view. Maui now said to them: 'You had better let me go
on with you, I shall at least be useful to bail the water out
of our canoe.' To this they consented, and they paddled on again
and speedily arrived at the fishing ground where they used to
fish upon former occasions. As soon as they got there his brothers
said: 'Let us drop the anchor and fish here'; and he answered:
'Oh no, don't; we had much better paddle a long distance farther
out.' Upon this they paddle on, and paddle as far as the farthest
fishing ground, a long way out to sea, and then his brothers
at last say: 'Come now, we must drop anchor and fish here.' And
he replies again: 'Oh, the fish here are very fine I suppose,
but we had much better pull right out to sea, and drop anchor
there. If we go out to the place where I wish the anchor to be
let go, before you can get a hook to the bottom, a fish will
come following it back to the top of the water. You won't have
to stop there a longer time than you can wink your eye in, and
our canoe will come back to shore full of fish.' As soon as they
hear this they paddle away-they paddle away until they reach
a very long distance off, and his brothers then say: 'We are
now far enough.' And he replies: 'No, no, let us go out of sight
of land, and when we have quite lost sight of it, then let the
anchor be dropped, but let it be very far off, quite out in the
open sea.' At last they reach the open sea, and his brothers
begin to fish. Lo, lo, they had hardly let their hooks down to
the bottom, when they each pulled up a fish into the canoe. Twice
only they let down their lines, when behold the canoe was filled
up with the number of fish they had caught. Then his brothers
said: 'Oh, brother, let us all return now.' And he answered them:
'Stay a little; let me also throw my hook into the sea.' And
his brothers replied: 'Where did you get a hook? And he answered:
'Oh, never mind, I have a hook of my own.' And his brothers replied
again: 'Make haste and throw it then.' And as be pulled it out
from under his garments, the light flashed from the beautiful
mother-of-pearl shell in the hollow of the hook, and his brothers
saw that the hook was carved and ornamented with tufts of hair
pulled from the tail of a dog, and it looked exceedingly beautiful.
Maui then asked his brothers to give him a little bait to bait
his hook with; but they replied: 'We will not give you any of
our bait.' So he doubled his fist and struck his nose 'violently,
and the blood gushed out, and he smeared his hook with his own
blood for bait, and then be cast it into the sea, and it sank
down, and sank down, till it reached to the small carved figure
on the roof of a house at the bottom of the sea, then passing
by the figure, it descended along the outside carved rafters
of the roof, and fell In at the doorway of the house, and the
hook of Maui-tikitiki-o-Taranga caught first in the sill of the
doorway.
Then, feeling something on his hook, he began to haul in his
line. Ah, ah!-there ascended on his hook the house of that old
fellow Tonga-nui. It came up, up; and as it rose high, ob, dear!
how his hook was strained with its great weight; and then there
came gurgling up foam and bubbles from the earth, as of an island
emerging from the water, and his brothers opened their mouths
and cried aloud.
Maui all this time continued to chant forth his incantations
amidst the murmurings and wailings of his brothers, who were
weeping and lamenting, and saying: 'See now, how he has brought
us out into the open sea, that we may be upset in it, and devoured
by the fish.' Then he raised aloud his voice, and repeated the
incantation called hiki which makes heavy weights fight, in order
that the fish he had caught might come up easily, and he chanted
an incantation beginning thus:
When he had finished his incantation, there floated up, hanging
to his line, the fish of Maui, a portion of the earth, of Papa-tu-a-Nuku.
Alas! alas! their canoe lay aground.
Maui then left his brothers with their canoe, and returned
to the village; but before he went he said to them: 'After I
am gone, be courageous and patient; do not eat food until I return,
and do not let our fish be cut up, but rather leave it until
I have carried an offering to the gods from this great haul of
fish, and until I have found a priest, that fitting prayers and
sacrifices may be offered to the god, and the necessary rites
be completed in order. We shall thus all be purified. I will
then return, and we can cut up this fish in safety, and it shall
be fairly portioned out to this one, and to that one, and to
that other; and on my arrival you shall each have your due share
of it, and return to your homes joyfully; and what we leave behind
us will keep good, and that which we take away With us, returning,
will be good too.'
Maui had hardly gone, after saying all this to them, than
his brothers trampled under their feet the words they had heard
him speak. They began at once to eat food, and to cut up the
fish. When they did this, Maui had not yet arrived at the sacred
place, in the presence of the god; had he previously reached
the sacred place, the heart of the deity would have been appeased
with the offering of a portion of the fish which had been caught
by his disciples, and all the male and female deities would have
partaken of their portions of the sacrifice. Alas! alas! those
foolish, thoughtless brothers of his cut up the fish, and behold
the gods turned with wrath upon them, on account of the fish
which they had thus cut up without having made a fitting sacrifice.
Then indeed, the fish began to toss about his head from side
to side, and to lash his tail, and the fins upon his back, and
his lower jaw. Ah! ah! well done Tangatoa, it springs about on
shore as briskly as if it was in the water.
That is the reason that this island is now so rough and uneven-that
here stands a mountam-and there lies a plain-that here descends
a valley-that there rises a cliff. If the brothers of Maui had
not acted so deceitfully, the huge fish would have lain flat
and smooth, and would have remained as a model for the rest of
the earth, for the present generation of men. This, which has
just been recounted, is the second evil which took place after
the separation of Heaven from Earth.
Thus was dry land fished up by Maui after it had been hidden
under the ocean by Rangi and Tawhiri-nia-tea. It was with an
enchanted fish-hook that he drew it up, which was pointed with
a bit of the jaw-bone of his ancestress Muri-ranga-whenua; and
in the district of Heretaunga they still show the fish-hook of
Maui, which became a cape stretching far out into the sea, and
now forms the southern extremity of Hawke's Bay.
The hero now thought that he would extinguish and destroy
the fires of his ancestress of Mahu-ika. So he got up in the
night, and put out the fires left in the cooking-houses of each
family in the village; then, quite early in the morning, he called
aloud to the servants: 'I hunger, I hunger; quick, cook some
food for me.' One of the servants thereupon ran as fast as he
could to make up the fire to cook some food, but the fire was
out; and as he ran round from house to house in the village to
get a light, he found every fire quite out-he could nowhere get
a light.
When Maui's mother heard this, she called out to the servants,
and said: 'Some of you repair to my great ancestress Mahu-ika;
tell her that fire has been lost upon earth, and ask her to give
some to the world again.' But the slaves were alarmed, and refused
to obey the commands which their masters, the sacred old people
gave them; and they persisted in refusing to go, notwithstanding
the old people repeatedly ordered them to do so.
At last, Maui said to his mother: 'Well, then I will fetch
down fire for the world; but which is the path by which I must
go? And his parents, who knew the country well, said to him:
'If you will go, follow that broad path that lies just before
you there; and you will at last reach the dwelling of an ancestress
of yours; and if she asks you who you are, you had better call
out your name to her, then she will know you are a descendant
of hers; but be cautious, and do not play any tricks with her,
because we have heard that your deeds are greater than the deeds
of men, and that you are fond of deceiving and injuring others,
and perhaps you even now intend in many ways, to deceive this
old ancestress of yours, but pray be cautious not to do so.'
But Maui said: 'No, I only want to bring fire away for men,
that is all, and I'll return again as soon as I can do that.'
Then he went, and reached the abode of the goddess of fire; and
he was so filled with wonder at what he saw, that for a long
tirue he could say nothing. At last he said: 'Oh, lady, would
you rise up? Where is your fire kept? I have come to beg some
from you.'
Then the aged lady rose right up, and said: 'Au-e! who can
this mortal be? And he answered: 'It's I.' 'Where do you come
frorn? said she; and he answered: 'I belong to this country.'
'You are not from this country', said she; 'your appearance is
not like that of the inhabitants of this country. Do you come
from the north-east? He replied: 'No.' 'Do you come from the
south-east? He replied: 'No.' 'Are you from the south? He replied:
'No.' 'Are you from the westward? He answered: 'No.' 'Come you,
then, from the direction of the wind which blows right upon me?
And he said: I do.' 'Oh, then', cried she, 'you are my grand-child;
what do you want here? He answered: 'I am come to beg fire from
you.' She replied: 'Welcome, welcome; here then is fire for you.'
Then the aged woman pulled out her nail; and as she pulled
it out fire flowed from it, and she gave it to him. And when
Maui saw she had drawn out her nail to produce fire for him,
he thought it a most wonderful thing! Then he went a short distance
off, and when not very far from her, he put the fire out, quite
out; and returning to her again, said: 'The light you gave me
has gone out, give me another.' Then she caught hold of another
nail, and pulled it out as a light for him; and he left her,
and went a little on one side, and put that light out also; then
he went back to her again, and said: 'Oh, lady, give me, I pray
you, another light for the last one has also gone out.' And thus
he went on and on, until she had pulled out all the nails of
the fingers of one of her hands; and then she began with the
other hand, until she had pulled all the fingernails out of that
hand, too; and then she commenced upon the nails of her feet,
and pulled them also out in the same manner, except the nail
of one of her big toes. Then the aged woman said to herself at
last: 'This fellow is surely playing tricks with me.'
Then out she pulled the one toe-nail that she had left, and
it, too, became fire, and as she dashed it down on the ground
the whole place caught fire. And she cried out to Maui: 'There,
you have it all now!' And Maui ran off, and made a rush to escape,
but the fire followed hard after him, close behind him; so he
changed himself into a fleet-winged eagle, and flew with rapid
flight, but the fire pursued, and almost caught him as he flew.
Then the eagle dashed down into a pool of water; but when he
got into the water he found that almost boiling too: the forests
just then also caught fire, so that it could not alight anywhere,
and the earth and the sea both caught fire too, and Maui was
very near perishing in the flames.
Then he called on his ancestors Tawhiri-ma-tea and Whatitiri-matakataka,
to send down an abundant supply of water, and he cried aloud:
'Oh, let water be given to me to quench this fire which pursues
after me'; and lo, then appeared squalls and gales, and Tawhiri-ma-tea
sent heavy lasting rain, and the fire was quenched; and before
Mahu-ika could reach her place of shelter, she almost perished
in the rain, and her shrieks and screams became as loud as those
of Maui had been, when he was scorched by the pursuing fire;
thus Maui ended this proceeding. In this manner was extinguished
the fire of Mahu-ika, the goddess of fire; but before it was
all lost, she saved a few sparks which she threw, to protect
them, into the kai-komako, and a few other trees, where
they are still cherished; hence, men yet use portions of the
wood of these trees for fire when they require a light.
Then he returned to the village, and his mother and father
said to him: 'You heard when we warned you before you went, nevertheless
you played tricks with your ancestress; it served you right that
you got into such trouble'; and the young fellow answered his
parents: 'Oh, what do I care for that; do you think that my perverse
proceedings are put a stop to by this? certainly not; I intend
to go on in the same way for ever, ever, ever.' And his father
answered him: 'Yes, then, you may just please yourself about
living or dying; if you will only attend to me you will save
your life; if you do not attend to what I say, it will be worse
for you, that is all.' As soon as this conversation was ended,
off the young fellow went to find some more companions for his
other scrapes.
Maui had a young sister named Hinauri, who was exceedingly
beautiful; she married Irawaru. One day Maui and his brother-in-law
went down to the sea to fish: Maui caught not a single fish with
his hook, which had no barb to it, but as long as they went on
fishing Maui observed that Irawaru continued catching plenty
of fish; so be thought to himself: 'Well, how is this? how does
that fellow catch so many whilst I cannot catch one? just as
he thought this, Irawaru had another bite, and up he pulled his
line in haste, but it had got entangled with that of Maui, and
Maui thinking he felt a fish pulling at his own line, drew it
in quite delighted; but when he had hauled up a good deal of
it, there were himself and his brother-in-law pulling in their
lines in different directions, one drawing the line towards the
bow of the canoe, the other towards the stem.
Maui, who was already provoked at his own ill-luck, and the
good luck of his brother-in-law, now called out quite angrily:
'Come, let go my line, the fish is on my hook.' But Irawau answered:
'No, it is not, it is on mine.'
Maui again called out very angrily: 'Come, let go, I tell
you it is on mine.
Irawaru then slacked out his line, and let Maui pull in the
fish; and as soon as he had hauled it into the canoe, Maui found
that Irawaru was right, and that the fish was on his hook; when
Irawaru saw this too, he called out: 'Come now, let go my line
and hook.' Maui answered him: 'Cannot you wait a minute, until
I take the hook out of the fish.'
As soon as he got the hook out of the fish's mouth, he looked
at it, and saw that it was barbed; Maui, who was already exceedingly
wrath with his brother-in-law, on observing this, thought he
had no chance with his barbless hook of catching as many fish
as his brother-in-law, so he said: 'Don't you think we had better
go on shore now? Irawaru answered: 'Very well, let us return
to the land again.'
So they paddled back towards the land, and when they reached
it, and were going to haul the canoe up on to the beach, Maui
said to his brother-in-law: 'Do you get under the outrigger of
the canoe, and lift it up with your back'; so he got under it,
and as soon as he had done so, Maui jumped on it, and pressed
the whole weight of the canoe down upon him, and almost killed
Irawaru.
When he was on the point of death, Maui trampled on his body,
and lengthened his back-bone, and by his enchantments drew it
out into the form of a tall, and he transformed Irawaru into
a dog, and fed him with dung.[1]
As soon as he had done this, Maui went back to his place of
abode, just as if nothing unusual had taken place, and his young
sister, who was watching for the return of her husband, as soon
as she saw Maui coming, ran to him and asked him, saying: 'Maui,
where is your brother-in-law? Maui answered: 'I left him at the
canoe.'
But his young sister said: 'Why did not you both come home
[1. This quarrel of Maui with his brother-in-law, Irawaru,
is sometimes narrated in this way:
Maui and his brother-in-law had been paying a visit to the
people of a village not very distant from where they lived; when
they were about to return home again, Maui asked his brother-in-law
to carry a little provision for them both upon their short journey,
but Irawaru answered surldy: 'What should I carry any provision
for, indeed? why I have just had an excellent meal': they then
started, and Maui, who was very angry, by his enchantments drew
out the earth as they proceeded, so as to lengthen exceedingly
the road they had to traverse; at last, being both overcome by
hunger and fatigue, they sat down to rest, and Maui, who knew
what his intentions were before they started, and had brought
provisions with him, ate a good meal, but gave none to his brother-in-law.
He then, to throw Irawaru off his guard, asked him to clean and
dress his hair for him, and laid his head on his lap for that
purpose; when his own was finished he offered to do the same
for Irawaru, who suspecting no harm laid his head on Maui's lap,
who threw him into an enchanted sleep, and then by his enchantments
changed him into a dog.]
together', and Maui answered: 'He desired me to tell you that
he wanted you to go down to the beach to help him carry up the
fish; you had better go therefore, and if you do not see him,
just call out, and if he does not answer you, why then call out
to him in this way, 'Mo-i, mo-i, mo-i.'
Upon learning this, Hinauri hurried down to the beach as fast
as she could, and not seeing her husband she went about calling
out his name, but no answer was made to her; she then called
out as Maui had told her: 'Mo-i, mo-i, mo-i'; then Irawaru, who
was running about in the bushes near there, in the form of a
dog, at once recognized the voice of Hinauri, and answered: 'Ao!
ao! ao! ao-ao-o!' howling like a dog, and he followed her back
to the village, frisking along and wagging his tail with pleasure
at seeing her; and from him sprang all dogs, so that he is regarded
as their progenitor, and all Maoris still call their dogs to
them by the words: 'Mo-i, mo-i, mo-i.'
Hinauri, when she saw that her husband had been changed into
a dog, was quite distracted with grief, and wept bitterly the
whole way as she went back to the village, and as soon as ever
she got into her house, she caught up an enchanted girdle which
she had, and ran back to the sea with it, determined to destroy
herself, by throwing herself into the ocean, so that the dragons
and monsters of the deep might devour her; when she reached the
sea-shore, she sat down upon the rocks at the ocean's very edge,
and as she sat there she first lamented aloud her cruel fate,
and repeated an incantation, and then threw herself into the
sea, and the tide swept her off from the shore.
Maui now felt it necessary to leave the village where Irawaru
had lived, so he returned to his parents, and when he had been
with them for some time, his father said to him one day: 'Oh,
my son, I have heard from your mother and others that you are
very valiant, and that you have succeeded in all feats that you
have undertaken in your own country, whether they were small
or great; but now that you have arrived in your father's country,
you will, perhaps, at last be overcome.'
Then Maui asked him: 'What do you mean, what things are there
that I can be vanquished by? And his father answered him: 'By
your great ancestress, by Hine-nui-te-po, who, if you look, you
may see flashing, and as it were, opening and shutting there,
where the horizon meets the sky.' And Maui replied: 'Lay aside
such idle thoughts, and let us both fearlessly seek whether men
are to die or live for ever.' And his father said: 'My child,
there has been an ill omen for us; when I was baptizing you,
I omitted a portion of the fitting prayers, and that I know will
be the cause of your perishing.'
Then Maui asked his father: 'What is my ancestress Hine-nui-te-po
like?' and he answered: 'What you see yonder shining so brightly
red are her eyes, and her teeth are as sharp and hard as pieces
of volcanic glass; her body is like that of a man, and as for
the pupils of her eyes, they are jasper; and her hair is like
tangles of long seaweed, and her mouth is like that of a barracouta.'
Then his son answered him: 'Do you think her strength is as great
as that of Tama-nui-te-Ra, who consumes man, and the earth, and
the very waters, by the fierceness of his heat?was not the world
formerly saved alive by the speed with which he travelled?-if
he had then, in the days of his full strength and power, gone
as slowly as he does now, not a remnant of mankind would have
been left living upon the earth, nor, indeed, would anything
else have survived. But I laid hold of Tamanui-te-Ra, and now
he goes slowly for I smote him again and again, so that be is
now feeble, and long in travelling his course, and he now gives
but very little heat, having been weakened by the blows of my
enchanted weapon; I then, too, split him open in many places,
and from the wounds so made, many rays now issue forth, and spread
in all directions. So, also I found the sea much larger than
the earth, but by the power of the last born of your children,
part of the earth was drawn up again, and dry land came forth.'
And his father answered him: 'That is all very true, O, my last
born, and the strength of my old age; well, then, be bold, go
and visit your great ancestress who flashes so fiercely there,
where the edge of the horizon meets the sky.'
Hardly was this conversation concluded with his father, when
the young hero went forth to look for companions to accompany
him upon this enterprise: and so there came to him for companions,
the small robin, and the large robin, and the thrush, and the
yellow-hammer, and every kind of little bird, and the fantail,
and these all assembled together, and they all started with Maui
in the evening, and arrived at the dwelling of Hine-nui-te-po,
and found her fast asleep.
Then Maui addressed them all, and said: 'My little friends,
now if you see me creep into this old chieftainess, do not laugh
at what you see. Nay, nay, do not I pray you, but when I have
got altogether inside her, and just as I am coming out of her
mouth, then you may shout With laughter if you please.' And his
little friends, who were frightened at what they saw, replied:
'Oh, sir, you will certainly be killed.' And he answered them:
'If you burst out laughing at me as soon as I get inside her,
you will wake her up, and she will certainly kill me at once,
but if you do not laugh until I am quite inside her, and am on
the point of coming out of her mouth, I shall live, and Hine-nui-te-po
will die.' And his little friends answered: 'Go on then, brave
Sir, but pray take good care of yourself.'
Then the young hero started off, and twisted the strings of
his weapon tight round his wrist, and went into the house, and
stripped off his clothes, and the skin on his hips looked mottled
and beautiful as that of a mackerel, from the tattoo marks, cut
on it with the chisel of Uetonga, and he entered the old chieftainess.
The little birds now screwed up their tiny cheeks, trying
to suppress their laughter; at last, the little tiwakawaka
could no longer keep it in, and laughed out loud, with its merry
cheerful note; this woke the old woman up, she opened her eyes,
started up, and killed Maui.
Thus died this Maui we have spoken of, but before he died
he had children, and sons were born to him; some of his descendants
yet live in Hawaiki, some in Ao-tea-roa (or in these islands);
the greater part of his descendants remained in. Hawaiki, but
a few of them came here to Ao-tea-roa. According to the traditions
of the Maori, this was the cause of the introduction of death
into the world (Hine-nui-te-po being the goddess of death: if
Maui had passed safely through her, then no more human beings
would have died, but death itself would have been destroyed),
and we express it by saying: 'The tiwakawaka laughing
at Maui-tikitiki-o-Taranga made Hine-nui-te-po squeeze him to
death.' And we have this proverb: 'Men make heirs, but death
carries them off.'
Thus end the deeds of the son of Makea-tu-tara, and of Taranga,
and the deeds of the sons of Rangi-nui, and of Papa-tu-a-Nuku;
this is the narrative about the generations of the ancestors
of the Maori, and therefore, we the people of that country, preserve
closely these traditions of old times, as a thing to be taught
to the generations that come after us, so we repeat them in our
prayers, and whenever we relate the deeds of the ancestors from
whom each family is descended, and upon other similar occasions.
The Legend of Tawhaki
NOW quitting the deeds of Maui, let
those of Tawhaki be recounted. He was the son of Hema and Urutonga,
and he had a younger brother named Karihi. Tawhaki, having taken
Hinepiripiri. as a wife, went one day with his brothers-in-law
to fish from a flat reef of rocks which ran far out into the
sea; he had four brothers-in-law, two of these when tired of
fishing returned towards their village, and he went with them;
when they drew near the village, they attempted to murder him,
and thinking they had slain him, buried him; they then went on
their way to the village, and when they reached it, their young
sister said to them: 'Why, where is your brother-in-law? and
they replied: 'Oh, they're all fishing.' So the young wife waited
until the other two brothers came back, and when they reached
the village they were questioned by their young sister, who asked:
'Where is your brother-in-law?'and the two who had last arrived
answered her: 'Why, the others all went home together long since.'
So the young wife suspected that they had killed her husband,
and ran off at once to search for him; and she found where he
had been buried, and on examining him ascertained that he had
only been insensible, and was not quite dead; then with great
difficulty she got him upon her back, and carried him home to
their house, and carefully washed his wounds, and staunched the
bleeding.
Tawhaki, when he had a little recovered, said to her: 'Fetch
some wood, and light a fire for me'; and as his wife was going
to do this, he said to her: 'If you see any tall tree growing
near you, fell it, and bring that with you for the fire.' His
wife went, and saw a tree growing such as her husband spoke of;
so she felled it, and put it upon her shoulder, and brought it
along With her; and when she reached the house, she put the whole
tree upon the fire without chopping it into pieces; and it was
this circumstance that led her to give the name of Wahie-roa
(long-log-of-wood-for-the-fire) to their first son, for Tawhaki
had told her to bring this log of wood home, and to call the
child after it, that the duty of avenging his father's wrongs
might often be recalled to his mind.
As soon as Tawhaki had recovered from his wounds, he left
the place where his faithless brothers-in-law lived, and went
away taking all his own warriors and their families with him,
and built a fortified village upon the top of a very lofty mountain,
where he could easily protect himself; and they dwelt there.
Then he called aloud to the Gods, his ancestors, for revenge,
and they let the floods of heaven descend, and the earth was
overwhelmed by the waters and all human beings perished, and
the name given to that event was 'The overwhelming of the Mataaho.'
When this feat was accomplished, Tawhaki and his younger brother
next went to seek revenge for the death of their father. It was
a different race who had carried off and slain the father of
Tawhaki; the name of that race was the Ponaturi-the country they
inhabited was underneath the waters, but they had a large house
on the dry land to which they resorted to sleep at night; the
name of that large house was 'Manawa-tane'.
The Ponaturi had slain the father of Tawhaki and carried off
his body, but his father's wife they had carried off alive and
kept as a captive. Tawhaki and his younger brother went upon
their way to seek out that people and to revenge themselves upon
them. At length they reached a place from whence they could see
the house called Manawa-tane. At the time they arrived near the
house there was no one there but their mother, who was sitting
near the door; but the bones of their father were hung up inside
the house under its high sloping roof The whole tribe of the
Ponaturi were at that time in their country under the waters,
but at the approach of night they would return to their house,
to Manawa-tane.
Whilst Tawhaki and his younger brother Karihi were coming
along still at a great distance from the house, Tawhaki began
to repeat an incantation, and the bones of his father, Hema,
felt the influence of this, and rattled loudly together where
they hung under the roof of the house, for gladness, when they
heard Tawhaki repeating his incantations as he came along, for
they knew that the hour of revenge had now come. As the brothers
drew nearer, their mother, Urutonga, heard the voice of Tawhaki,
and she wept for gladness in front of her children, who came
repeating incantations upon their way. And when they reached
at length the house, they wept over their mother, over old Urutonga.
When they had ended weeping, their mother said to them: 'My children,
hasten to return hence, or you will both certainly perish. The
people who dwell here are a very fierce and savage race.' Karihi
said to her: 'How low will the sun have descended when those
you speak of return home? And she replied: 'They will return
here when the sun sinks beneath the ocean.' Then Karihi asked
her: 'What did they save you alive for? And she answered: 'They
saved me alive that I might watch for the rising of the dawn;
they make me ever sit watching here at the door of the house,
hence this people have named me "Tatau", or "Door";
and they keep on throughout the night calling out to me: "Ho,
Tatau, there! is it dawn yet?" And then I call out in answer:
"No, no, it is deep night-it is lasting night -it is still
night; compose yourselves to sleep, sleep on." '
Karihi then said to his mother: 'Cannot we hide ourselves
somewhere here?'
Their mother answered: 'You had better return; you cannot
hide yourselves here, the scent of you will be perceived by them.'
'But', said Karihi, 'we will hide ourselves away in the thick
thatch of the house.'
Their mother, however, answered: '`Tis of no use, you cannot
hide yourselves there.'
All this time Tawhaki sat quite silent; but Karihi said: 'We
will hide ourselves here, for we know incantations which will
render us invisible to all.'
On hearing this, their mother consented to their remaining,
and attempting to avenge their father's death. So they climbed
up to the ridge-pole of the house, upon the outside of the roof,
and made holes in the thick layers of reeds which formed the
thatch of the roof, and crept into them and covered themselves
up; and their mother called to them, saying: 'When it draws near
dawn, come down again and stop up every chink in the house, so
that no single ray of light may shine in.'
At length the day closed, and the sun sank below the horizon,
and the whole of that strange tribe left the water in a body,
and ascended to the dry land; and, according to their custom
from time immemorial, they sent one of their number in front
of them, that he might carefully examine the road, and see that
there were no hidden foes lying in wait for them either on the
way or in their house. As soon as this scout arrived at the threshold
of the house, he perceived the scent of Tawhaki and Karihi; so
be lifted up his nose and turned sniffing all round the inside
of the house. As he turned about, he was on the point of discovering
that strangers were hidden there, when the rest of the tribe
(whom long security had made careless) came hurrying on, and
crowding into the house in thousands, so that from the denseness
of the crowd the scent of the strange men was quite lost. The
Ponaturi then stowed themselves away in the house until it was
entirely filled up with them, and by degrees they arranged themselves
In convenient places, and at length all fell fast asleep.
At midnight Tawhaki and Karihi stole down from the roof of
the house, and found that their mother had crept out of the door
to meet them, so they sat at the doorway whispering together.
Karihi then asked his mother: 'Which is the best way for us
to destroy these people who are sleeping here? And their mother
answered: 'You had better let the sun kill them, its rays will
destroy them.'
Having said this, Tatau crept into the house again; presently
an old man of the Ponaturi called out to her: 'Ho, Tatau, Tatau,
there; is it dawn yet? And she answered: 'No, no, it is deep
night-it is lasting night; `tis still night; sleep soundly, sleep
on.'
When it was very near dawn, Tatau whispered to her children,
who were still sitting just outside the door of the house: 'See
that every chink in the doorway and window is stopped, so that
not a ray of light can penetrate here.'
Presently another old man of the Ponaturi called out again:
'Ho, Tatau there, is not it near dawn yet? And she answered:
'No, no, it is night; it is lasting night; `tis still night;
sleep Soundly, sleep on.'
This was the second time that Tatau had thus called out to
them.
At last dawn had broken-at last the sun had shone brightly
upon the earth, and rose high in the heavens; and the old man
again called out: 'Ho, Tatau there; is not it dawn yet? And she
answered: 'Yes.' And then she called out to her children: 'Be
quick, pull out the things with which you have stopped up the
window and the door.'
So they pulled them out, and the bright rays of the sun came
streaming into the house, and the whole of the Ponaturi perished
before the light; they perished not by the hand of man, but withered
before the sun's rays.[1]
When the Ponaturi had been all destroyed, Tawhaki and Karilil
carefully took down their father's bones from the roof of the
house, and burnt them with fire, and together with the bodies
of all those who were in the house, who had perished, scorched
by the bright rays of the sun; they then returned again to their
own country, taking with them their mother, and carefully carrying
the bones of their father.
The fame of Tawhaki's courage in thus destroying the race
of Ponaturi, and a report also of his manly beauty, chanced to
reach the ears of a young maiden of the heavenly race who live
above in the skies; so one night she descended from the heavens
to visit Tawhaki, and to judge for herself, whether these reports
were true. She found him lying sound asleep, and after gazing
on him for some time, she stole to his side and laid herself
down by him. He, when disturbed by her, thought that it was only
some female of this lower world, and slept again; but before
dawn the young girl stole away again from his side, and ascended
once more to the heavens. In the early morning Tawhaki awoke
and felt all over his sleeping place with both his hands, but
in vain, he could nowhere find the young girl.
[1. The Maoris say that the kanae, [or mullet,] had
come on shore with the Ponaturi, and escaped out of the house
by its power of leaping, gaining the water again by successive
springs.]
From that time Tangotango,[1] the girl of the heavenly race,
stole every night to the side of Tawhaki, and lo, in the morning
she was gone, until she found that she had conceived a child,
who was afterwards named Arahuta; then full of love for Tawhaki,
she disclosed herself fully to him and lived constantly in this
world with him, deserting, for his sake, her friends above; and
he discovered that she who had so loved him belonged to the race
whose home is in the heavens.
Whilst thus living with him, this girl of the heavenly race,
his second wife, said to him: 'Oh, Tawhaki, if our baby so shortly
now to be born, should prove a son, I will wash the little thing
before it is baptized; but if it should be a little girl then
you shall wash it.' When the time came Tangotango had a little
girl, and before it was baptized Tawhaki took it to a spring
to wash it, and afterwards held it away from him as if it smelt
badly, and said: Faugh, how badly the little thing smells.' Then
Tangotango, when she heard this said of her own dear little baby,
began to sob and cry bitterly, and at last rose up from her place
with her child, and began to take flight towards the sky, but
she paused for one minute with one foot resting upon the carved
figure at the end of the ridge-pole of the house above the door.
Then Tawhaki rushed forward, and springing up tried to catch
hold of his young wife, but missing her, he entreatingly besought
her: 'Mother of my child, oh, return once more to me!' But she
in reply called down to him: 'No, no, I shall now never return
to you again.
Tawhaki once more called up to her: 'At least, then, leave
me some one remembrance of you.' Then his young wife called down
to him: 'These are my parting words of remembrance to you-take
care that you lay not hold with your hands of the
[1. According to some traditions her name was Hapai.]
loose root of the creeper, which dropping from aloft sways
to and fro in the air; but rather lay fast hold on that which
hanging down from on high has again struck its fibres into the
earth.' Then she floated up into the air, and vanished from his
sight.
Tawhaki remained plunged in grief, for his heart was torn
by regrets for his wife and his little girl. One moon had waned
after her departure, when Tawhaki, unable longer to endure such
sufferings, called out to his younger brother, to Karihi, saying:
'Oh, brother, shall we go and search for my little girl? And
Karihi consented, saying: 'Yes, let us go.' So they departed,
taking two slaves with them as companions for their journey.
When they reached the pathway along which they intended to
travel, Tawhaki said to the two slaves who were accompanying
himself and his brother: 'You being unclean or unconsecrated
persons must be careful when we come to the place where the road
passes the fortress of Tongameha, not to look up at it for it
is enchanted, and some evil will befall you if you do.' They
then went along the road, and when they came to the place mentioned
by Tawhaki, one of the slaves looked up at the fortress, and
his eye was immediately torn out by the magical arts of Tongameha,
and he perished. Tawhaki and Karihi then went upon the road accompanied
by only one slave. They at last reached the spot where the ends
of the vines which hung down from heaven reached the earth, and
they there found an old woman who was quite blind. She was appointed
to take care of the vines, and she sat at the place where they
touched the earth, and held the ends of one of them in her hands.
This old lady was at the moment employed in counting some
taro roots, which she was about to have cooked, and as
she was blind she was not aware of the strangers who stole quietly
and silently up to her. There were ten taro roots lying
in a heap before her. She began to count them, one, two, three,
four, five, six, seven, eight, nine. Just at this moment Tawhaki
quietly slipped away the tenth, the old lady felt everywhere
for it, but she could not find it. She thought she must have
made some mistake, and so began to count her taro over
again very carefully. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven,
eight. just then Tawhaki had slipped away the ninth. She was
now quite surprised, so she counted them over again quite slowly,
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight; and as she could
not fmd the two that were missing, she at last guessed that somebody
was playing a trick upon her, so she pulled her weapon out, which
she always sat upon to keep it safe, and standing up turned round,
feeling about her as she moved, to try if she could find Tawhaki
and Karibi; but they very gently stooped down to the ground and
lay close there, so that her weapon passed over them, and she
could not feel anybody; when she had thus swept her weapon all
round her, she sat down and put it under her again. Karihi then
struck her a blow upon the face, and she, quite frightened, threw
up her bands to her face, pressing them on the place where she
had been struck, and crying out: 'Oh! who did that?' Tawhaki
then touched both her eyes, and, lo, she was at once restored
to sight, and saw quite plainly, and she knew her grandchildren
and wept over them.
When the old lady had finished weeping over them, she asked:
'Where are you going to? And Tawhaki answered: 'I go to seek
my little girl.' She replied: 'But where is she? He answered:
'Above there, in the skies.' Then she replied: 'But what made
her go to the skies? And Tawhaki. answered: 'Her mother came
from heaven. She was the daughter of Whatitiri-matakataka.' The
old lady then pointed to the vines and said to them: 'Up there,
then, lies your road; but do not begin the ascent so late in
the day, wait until to-morrow, for the morning, and then commence
to climb up.' He consented to follow this good advice, and called
out to his slave: 'Cook some food for us.' The slave began at
once to cook food, and when it was dressed, they all partook
of it and slept there that night.
At the first peep of dawn Tawhaki called out to his slave:
'Cook some food for us, that we may have strength to undergo
the fatigues of this great journey'; and when their meal was
finished, Tawhaki took his slave, and presented him to the old
woman, as an acknowledgment for her great kindness to them.
The old woman then called out to him, as he was starting:
'There lies the ascent before you, lay fast hold of the vine
with your hands, and climb on; but when you get midway between
heaven and earth, take care not to look down upon this lower
world again, lest you become charmed and giddy, and fall down.
Take care, also, that you do not by mistake lay hold of the vine
which swings loose; but rather lay hold of the one which hanging
down from above, has again firmly struck root into the earth.'
Just at that moment Karihi made a spring at the vines to catch
them, and by mistake caught hold of the loose one, and away he
swung to the very edge of the horizon, but a blast of wind blew
forth from thence, and drove him back to the other side of the
skies; on reaching that point, another strong land wind swept
him right up heavenwards, and down he was blown again by the
currents of air from above: then just as he reached near the
earth again, Tawhaki called out: 'Now, my brother, loose your
hands: now is the time!'-and he did so, and, lo, he stood upon
the earth once more; and the two brothers wept together over
Karihi's narrow escape from destruction. And when they had ceased
lamenting, Tawhaki, who was alarmed lest any disaster should
overtake his younger brother, said to him: 'It is my desire that
you should return home, to take care of our families and our
dependants.' Thereupon Karihi at once returned to the village
of their tribe, as his eldest brother directed him.
Tawhaki now began to climb the ascent to heaven, and the old
blind woman called out to him as he went up: 'Hold fast, my child;
let your hands hold tight.' And Tawhaki made use of, and kept
on repeating, a powerful incantation as he climbed up to the
heavens, to preserve him from the dangers of that difficult and
terrible road.
At length he reached the heavens, and pulled himself up into
them, and then by enchantments he disguised himself, and changed
his handsome and noble appearance, and assumed the likeness of
a very ugly old man, and he followed the road he had at first
struck upon, and entered a dense forest into which it ran, and
still followed it until he came to a place in the forest where
his brothers-in-law, with a party of their people, were hewing
canoes from the trunks of trees; and they saw him, and little
thinking who he was, called out: 'Here's an old fellow will make
a nice slave for us': but Tawhaki went quietly on, and when he
reached them he sat down with the people who were working at
the canoes.
It now drew near evening, and his brothers-in-law finished
their work, and called out to him: 'Ho! old fellow, there!-you
just carry these heavy axes home for us, will you!'[1] He at
once consented to do this, and they gave him the axes. The old
man then said to them: 'You go on in front, do not mind, I am
old and heavy laden, I cannot travel fast.' So they started off,
the old man following slowly behind. When his brothers-in-law
and
[1. The European reader cannot at all enter into the witty
nature of this adventure in the estimation of a Maori; the idea
of a sacred chief of high rank being by n-,Listake treated as
a common slave, conveys impressions to their minds of which we
can form no accurate notion.]
their people were all out of sight, he turned back to the
canoe, and taking an. axe just adzed the canoe rapidly along
from the bow to the stem, and lo, one side of the canoe was finished.
Then be took the adze again, and ran it rapidly along the other
side of the canoe, from the bow to the stem, and lo, that side
also was beautifully finished.
He then walked quietly along the road again, like an old man,
carrying the axes with him, and went on for some time without
seeing anything; but when be drew near the village, he found
two women from the village in the forest gathering firewood,
and as soon as they saw him, one of them observed to her companion:
'I say here is a curious-looking old fellow, is he not?'and her
companion exclaimed: 'He shall be our slave'; to which the first
answered: 'Make him carry the firewood for us, then.' So they
took Tawhaki, and laid a load of firewood upon his back, and
made him carry that as well as the axes, so was this mighty chief
treated as a slave, even by female slaves.
When they all reached the village, the two women called out:
'We've caught an old man for a slave.' Then Tangotango exclaimed
in reply: 'That's right bring him along with you, then; he'll
do for all of us.' Little did his wife Tangotango think that
the slave they were so insulting, and whom she was talking about
in such a way, was her own husband Tawhaki.
When Tawhaki saw Tangotango sitting at a fireplace near the
upper end of the house with their little girl, he went straight
up to the place, and all the persons present tried to stop him,
calling out: 'Ho! ho! take care what you are doing; do not go
there; you will become tapu from sitting near Tangotango.'
But the old man, without minding them, went rapidly straight
on, and carried his load of firewood right up to the very fire
of Tangotango. Then they all said: 'There, the old fellow is
tapu; it is his own fault.' But Tangotango had not the
least idea that this was Tawhaki; and yet there were her husband
and herself seated, the one upon the one side, the other upon
the opposite side of the very same fire.
They all stopped in the house until the sun rose next morning;
then at daybreak his brothers-in-law called out to him: 'Hallo!
old man, you bring the axes along, do you hear.' So the old man
took up the axes, and started with them, and they all went off
together to the forest, to work at dubbing out their canoes.
When they reached them, and the brothers-in-law saw the canoe
which Tawhaki had worked at, they looked at it with astonishment,
saying: 'Why, the canoe is not at all as we left it; who can
have been working at it? At last, when their wonder was somewhat
abated, they all sat down, and set to work again to dub out another
canoe, and worked until evening, when they again called out to
the old man as on the previous one: 'Hallo! old fellow, come
here, and carry the axes back to the village again.' As before,
he said: 'Yes', and when they started he remained behind, and
after the others were all out of sight he took an axe, and began
again to adze away at the canoe they had been working at; and
having finished his work he returned again to the village, and
once more walked straight up to the fire of Tangotango, and remained
there until the sun rose upon the following morning.
When they were all going at early dawn to work at their canoes
as usual, they again called out to Tawhaki: 'Hallo! old man,
just bring these axes along with you'; and the old man went patiently
and silently along with them, carrying the axes on his shoulder.
When they reached the canoe they were about to work at, the brothers-in-law
were quite astonished on seeing it, and shouted out: 'Why, here
again, this canoe, too, is not at all as it was when we left
it; who can have been at work at it?' Having wondered at this
for some time, they at length sat down and set to again to dub
out another canoe, and laboured away until evening, when a thought
came into their minds that they would hide themselves in the
forest, and wait to see who it was came every evening to work
at their canoe; and Tawhaki overheard them arranging this plan.
They therefore started as if they were going home, and when
they had got a little way they turned off the path on one side,
and hid themselves in the thick clumps of bushes, in a place
from whence they could see the canoes. Then Tawhaki, going a
little way back into the forest, stripped off his old cloaks,
and threw them on one side, and then repeating the necessary
incantations he put off his disguise, and took again his own
appearance, and made himself look noble and handsome, and commenced
his work at the canoe. Then his brothers-in-law, when they saw
him so employed, said one to another: 'Ah, that must be the old
man whom we made a slave of who is working away at our canoe';
but again they called to one another and said: 'Come here, come
here, just watch, why he is not in the least like that old man.'
Then they said amongst themselves: 'This must be a demi-god';
and, without showing themselves to him, they ran off to the village,
and as soon as they reached it they asked their sister Tangotango
to describe her husband for them; and she described his appearance
as well as she could, representing him just like the man they
had seen: and they said to her: 'Yes, that must be he; he is
exactly like him you have described to us.' Their sister replied:
'Then that chief must certainly be your brother-in-law.'
Just at this moment Tawhaki reappeared at the village, having
again disguised himself, and changed his appearance into that
of an ugly old man. But Tangotango immediately questioned him,
saying: 'Now tell me, who are you? Tawhaki made no reply, but
walked on straight towards her. She asked him again: 'Tell me,
are you Tawhaki? He murmured 'Humph!' in assent, still walking
on until he reached the side of his wife, and then he snatched
up his little daughter, and, holding her fast in his arms, pressed
her to his heart. The persons present all rushed out of the court-yard
of the house to the neighbouring court-yards, for the whole place
was made tapu by Tawhaki, and murmurs of gratification and surprise
arose from the people upon every side at the splendour of his
appearance, for in the days when he had been amongst them as
an old man his figure was very different from the resplendent
aspect which he presented on this day.
Then he retired to rest with his wife, and said to her: 'I
came here that our little daughter might be made to undergo the
ceremonies usual for the children of nobles, to secure them good
fortune and happiness in this life'; and Tangotango consented.
When in the morning the sun arose, they broke out an opening
through the end of the house opposite to the door, that the little
girl's rank might be seen by her being carried out that way instead
of through the usual entrance to the house; and they repeated
the prescribed prayers when she was carried through the wall
out of the house.
The prayers and incantations being finished, lightnings flashed
from the arm-pits of Tawhaki;[1] then they carried the little
girl to the water, and plunged her into it, and repeated a baptismal
incantation over her.
[1. Tawhaki is said to still dwell in the skies, and is worshipped
as a god, and thunder and lightning are said to be caused by
his footsteps when he moves.]
Rupe's Ascent into Heaven
WE left Hinauri floating out into the
ocean;[1] we now return to her adventures: for many months she
floated through the sea, and was at last thrown up by the surf
on the beach at a place named Wairarawa; she was there found,
lying as if dead, upon the sandy shore, by two brothers named
Ihu-atamai and Ihu-wareware; her body was in many parts overgrown
with seaweed and barnacles, from the length of time she had been
in the water, but they could still see some traces of her beauty,
and pitying the young girl, they lifted her up in their arms,
and carried her home to their house, and laid her down carefully
by the side of a fire, and scraped off very gently the seaweed
and barnacles from her body, and thus by degrees restored her.
When she had quite recovered, Ihu-atamai and Ihu-wareware
looked upon her with pleasure, and took her as a wife between
them both; they then asked her to tell them who she was, and
what was her name; this she did not disclose to them, but she
changed her name, and called herself Ihu-ngaru-paea, or the Stranded-log-of-timber.
After she had lived with these two brothers for a long time,
Ihu-wareware went to pay a visit to his superior chief, Tinirau,
and to relate the adventures which had happened; and when
[1. See The Legend of Maui.]
Tinirau heard all that had taken place, he went to bring away
the young stranger as a wife for himself, and she was given up
to him; but before she was so given to him, she had conceived
a child by Ihu-atamai, and when she went to live with Tinirau
it was near the time when the child should be born.
Tinirau took her home with him to his residence on an island
called Motu-tapu: he had two other wives living there-they were
the daughters of Mangamangai-atua, and their names were Harataunga
and Horotata. Now, when these two women saw the young stranger
coming along in their husband's company, as if she was his wife,
they could not endure it, and they abused Hinauri on account
of her conduct with their husband; at last they proceeded so
far as to attempt to strike her, and to kill her, and they cursed
her bitterly. When they treated her in this manner the heart
of Hinauri became gloomy with grief and mortification, so she
began to utter incantations against them, and repeated one so
powerful that hardly had she finished it when the two women fell
flat on the ground with the soles of their feet projecting upwards,
and lay quite dead upon the earth, and her husband was thus left
free for her alone.
All this time Hinauri was lost to her friends and home, and
her young brother Maui-mua, afterwards called Rupe, could do
nothing but think of her; and excessive love for his sister,
and sorrow at her departure, so harassed him, that he said he
could no longer remain at rest, but that he must go and seek
for his sister.
So he departed upon this undertaking, and visited every place
he could think of without missing one of them, yet could he nowhere
find his sister; at last, Rupe thought that be would ascend to
the heavens to consult his great ancestor Rehua, who dwelt there
at a place named Te Putahi-nui-o-Rehua, and in fulfilment of
this design he began his ascent to the heavenly regions.
Rupe continued his ascent, seeking everywhere hastily for
Rehua; at last, he reached a place where people were dwelling,
and when he saw them, he spoke to them, saying: 'Are the heavens
above this inhabited?'-and the people dwelling there answered
him: 'They are inhabited.' And he again asked them: 'Can I reach
those heavens? and they replied: 'You cannot reach them, the
heavens above these are those the boundaries of which were fixed
by Tane.'
But Rupe forced a way up through those heavens, and got above
them, and found an inhabited place; and he asked the inhabitants
of it, saying: 'Are the heavens above these inhabited? -and the
people answered him: 'They are inhabited.' And he again asked:
'Do you think I can reach them?'-and they replied: 'No, you will
not be able to reach them, those heavens were fixed there by
Tane.'
Rupe, however, forced a way through those heavens too, and
thus he continued to do until he reached the tenth heaven, and
there he found the abode of Rehua. When Rehua saw a stranger
approaching, he went forward and gave him the usual welcome,
lamenting over him; Rehua made his lamentation without knowing
who the stranger was, but Rupe in his lament made use of prayers
by which he enabled Rehua to guess who he was.
When they had each ended their lamentation, Rchua called to
his servants: 'Light a fire, and get everything ready for cooking
food.' The slaves soon made the fire burn up brightly, and brought
hollow calabashes, all ready to have food placed in them, and
laid them down before Rehua. All this time Rupe was wondering
whence the food was to come from with which the calabashes, which
the slaves had brought, were to be filled; but presently he observed
that Rehua was slowly loosening the thick bands which enveloped
his locks around and upon the top of his head; and when his long
locks all floated loosely, he shook the dense masses of his hair,
and forth from them came flying flocks of the tui birds,
which had been nestling there, feeding upon lice; and as they
flew forth, the slaves caught and killed them, and filled the
calabashes with them, and took them to the fire, and put them
on to cook, and when they were done, they carried them and laid
them before Rupe as a present, and then placed them beside him
that he might eat, and Rehua requested him to eat food, but Rupe
answered him: 'Nay, but I cannot eat this food; I saw these birds
loosened and take wing from thy locks; who would dare to eat
birds that had fed upon lice in thy sacred head? For the reasons
he thus stated, Rupe feared that man of ancient days, and the
calabashes still stood near him untouched.
At last, Rupe ventured to ask Rehua, saying: 'O Rehua, has
a confused murmur of voices from the world below reached you
upon any subject regarding which I am interested? And Rehua answered
him: 'Yes, such a murmuring of distant voices has reached me
from the island of Motu-tapu in the world below these.'
When Rupe heard this, he immediately by his enchantments changed
himself into a pigeon, and took flight downwards towards the
island of Motu-tapu; on, on he flew, until he reached the island,
and the dwelling of Tinirau, and then he alighted right upon
the window-sill of his house. Some of Tinirau's people saw him,
and exclaimed: 'Ha! ha!-there's a bird, there's a bird'; whilst
some called out: 'Make haste, spear him, spear him'; and one
threw a spear at him, but he turned it aside with his bill, and
it passed on one side of him, and struck the piece of wood on
which he was sitting, and the spear was broken; then they saw
that it was no use to try to spear the bird, so they made a noose,
and endeavoured to slip it gently over his head, but he turned
his head on one side, and they found that they could not snare
him. His young sister now suspected something, so she said to
the people who were trying to kill or snare the bird: 'Leave
the bird quiet for a minute until I look at it'; and when she
had looked well at it, she knew that it was her brother, so she
asked him, saying: 'What is the cause which has made you thus
come here?'-and the pigeon immediately began to open and shut
its little bill, as if it was trying to speak. His young sister
now called out to Tinirau: 'Oh, husband, here is your brother-in-law';
and her husband said in reply: 'What is his name?'-and she answered:
'It is my brother Rupe.' It happened that upon this very day,
Hinauri's little child was born, then Rupe repeated this form
of greeting to his sister, the name of which is Toetoetu:
'Hinauri,
Hinauri is the sister,
And Rupe is her brother,
But how came he here?
Came he by travelling on the earth,
Or came he through the air?
Let your path be through the air.'
As soon as Rupe had ceased his lamentation of welcome to his
sister, she commenced hers, and answered him, saymig:
'Rupe is the brother,
And Hina is his young sister,
But how came he here?
Came he by travelling on the earth,
Or came he through the air?
Let your path be now upwards through the air
To Rehua.'
Hardly had his young sister finished repeating this poem,
before Rupe had caught her up with her new-born baby: in a moment
they were gone. Thus the brother and sister departed together,
with the infant, carrying with them the placenta to bury it with
the usual rites; and they ascended up to Rehua, and as they passed
through the air, the placenta was accidentally dropped, and falling
into the sea, was devoured by a shark, and this circumstance
was what caused the multitude of large eggs which are now found
in the inside of the shark.
At length the brother and sister arrived at the dwellMg-place
of Rehua, which was called Te Putahi-nui-o-Rehua. The old man
was unable to keep his court-yard clean for himself, and his
people neglected to do so from idleness; thus it was left in
a very filthy state. Rupe, who was displeased at seeing this,
one day said to Rehua: 'Oh, Rehua, they leave this court-yard
of yours in a very filthy state'; and then he added: 'Your people
are such a set of lazy rogues, that if every mess of dirt was
a lizard, I doubt if they could even take the trouble to touch
its tail to make it run away'; and this saying passed into a
proverb.
At last, Rupe thought that he could clean and beautify, in
some respects, Rehua's dwelling for him, so he made two wooden
shovels for his work, one of which he called Tahitahia, and the
other Rake-rakea, and with them he quite cleansed and purified
Rehua's court-yard. He then added a building to Rehua's dwelling,
but fixing one of the beams of it badly, Rehua's son Kaitangata,
was one day killed from hanging on to this beam, which giving
way and springing back, he was thrown down and died, and his
blood running about over part of the heavens stained them, and
formed what we now call a ruddiness in the sky; when, therefore,
a red and ruddy tinge is seen in the heavens, men say: 'Ah! Kaitangata
stained the heavens with his blood.'
Rupe's first name was Maui-mua; it was after he was transformed
into a bird that he took the name of Rupe.[1]
[1. The part of the tradition which relates to the death of
Kaitangata is considerably shortened in the translation, as not
being likely to interest the European reader.]
Kae's Theft of the Whale
SOON after Tu-huruhuru was born, Tinirau
endeavoured to find a skilful magician, who might perform the
necessary enchantments and incantations to render the child a
fortunate and successful warrior, and Kae was the name of the
old magician, whom some of his friends brought to him for this
purpose. In due time Kae arrived at the village where Tinirau
lived, and he performed the proper enchantments with fitting
ceremonies over the infant.
When all these things had been rightly concluded, Tinirau
gave a signal to a pet whale that he had tamed, to come on shore;
this whale's name was Tutunui. When it knew that its master wanted
it, it left the ocean in which it was sporting about, and came
to the shore, and its master laid hold of it, and cut a slice
of its flesh off to make a feast for the old magician, and he
cooked it, and gave a portion of it to Kae, who found it very
savoury, and praised the dish very much.
Shortly afterwards, Kae said it was necessary for him to return
to his own village, which was named Te Tihi-o-Manono; so Tinirau.
ordered a canoe to be got ready for him to take him back, but
Kae made excuses, and said he did not like to go back in the
canoe, and remained where he was. This, however, was a mere trick
upon his part, his real object being to get Tinirau to permit
him to go back upon the whale, upon Tutunui, for he now knew
how savoury the flesh of that fish was.
At last Tinirau lent Tutunui to the old magician to carry
him home, but he gave him very particular directions, telling
him: 'When you get so near the shore, that the fish touches the
bottom, it will shake itself to let you know, and you must then,
without any delay, jump off it upon the right side.'
He then wished Kae farewell, and the old magician started,
and away went the whale through the water with him.
When they came close to the shore at Kae's village, and the
whale felt the bottom, it shook itself as a sign to Kae to jump
off and wade ashore, but it was of no use; the old magician stuck
fast to the whale, and pressed it down against the bottom as
hard as he could; in vain the fish continued to shake itself;
Kae held on to it, and would not jump off, and in its struggles
the blow-holes of Tutunui got stopped up with sand, and it died.
Kae and his people then managed to drag up the body of Tutunui
on shore, intending to feast upon it; and this circumstance became
afterwards the cause of a war against that tribe, who were called
'The descendants of Popo-horokewa'. When they had dragged Tutunui
on shore, they cut its body up and cooked it in ovens, covering
the flesh up with the fragrant leaves of the koromiko
before they heaped earth upon the ovens, and the fat of Tutunui
adhered to the leaves of the koromiko, and they continue
greasy to this day, so that if koromiko boughs are put
upon the fire and become greasy, the proverb says: 'There's some
of the savouriness of Tutunui'.
Tinirau continued anxiously to look for the return of Tutunui
and when a long time had elapsed without its coming back again,
he began to say to himself: 'Well, I wonder where my whale can
be stopping!' But when Kae and his people had cooked the flesh
of the whale, and the ovens were opened, a savoury scent was
wafted across the sea to Tinirau, and both he and his wife smelt
it quite plainly, and then they knew very well that Kae had killed
the pet which they had tamed for their little darling Tu-huruburu,
and that he had eaten it.
Without any delay, Tinirau's people dragged down to the sea
a large canoe which belonged to one of his wives, and forty women
forthwith embarked in it; none but women went, as this would
be less likely to excite any suspicion in Kae that they had come
with a hostile object; amongst them were Hine-i-teiwaiwa, Rau-kata-uri,
Rau-kata-mea, Itiiti, Rekareka, and Ruahau-a-Tangaroa, and other
females of note, whose names have not been preserved; just before
the canoe started Tinirau's youngest sister asked him: 'What
are the marks by which we shall know Kae?'-and he answered her:
'Oh, you cannot mistake him, his teeth are uneven and all overlap
one another.'
Well, away they paddled, and in due time they arrived at the
village of the old magician Kae, and his tribe all collected
to see the strangers; towards night, when it grew dark, a fire
was lighted in the house of Kae, and a crowd collected inside
it, until it was filled; one side was quite occupied with the
crowd of visitors, and the other side of the house with the people
of Kae's tribe. The old magician himself sat at the foot of the
main pillar which supported the roof of the house, and mats were
laid down there for him to sleep on (but the strangers did not
yet know which was Kae, for it did not accord with the Maori's
rules of politeness to ask the names of the chiefs, it being
supposed from their fame and greatness that they are known by
everybody).
In order to fmd out which was Kae, Tinirau's people had arranged,
that they would try by wit and fun to make everybody laugh, and
when the people opened their mouths, to watch which of them had
uneven teeth that lapped across one another, and thus discover
which was Kae.
In order, therefore, to make them laugh, Rau-kata-uri exhibited
all her amusing tricks and games; she made them sing and play
upon the flute, and upon the putorino, and beat time with
castanets of bone and wood whilst they sang; and they played
at mora, and the kind of ti in which many motions
are made with the fingers and hands, and the kind of ti
in which, whlist the players sing, they rapidly throw short sticks
to one another, keeping time to the tune which they are singing;
and she played upon an instrument like a jew's-harp for them,
and made puppets dance, and made them all sing whilst they played
with large whizgigs; and after they had done all these things,
the man they thought was Kae had never even once laughed.
Then the party who had come from Tinirau's, all began to consult
together, and to say,'What can we do to make that fellow laugh?
and for a long time they thought of some plan by which they might
take Kae in, and make him laugh; at last they thought of one,
which was, that they should all sing a droll comic song; so suddenly
they all began to sing together, at the same time making curious
faces, and shaking their hands and arms in time to the tune.
When they had ended their song, the old magician could not
help laughing out quite heartily, and those who were watching
him closely at once recognized him, for there they saw pieces
of the flesh of Tutunui still sticking between his teeth, and
his teeth were uneven and all overlapped one another. From this
circumstance a proverb has been preserved among the Maoris to
the present day-for if any one on listening to a story told by
another is amused at it and laughs, one of the bystanders says:
'Ah, there's Kae laughing.'
No sooner did the women who had come from Tinirau's see the
flesh of Tutunui sticking in Kae's teeth than they made an excuse
for letting the fire bum dimly in the house, saying, that they
wanted to go to sleep-their real object, however, being to be
able to perform their enchantments without being seen; but the
old magician who suspected something, took two round pieces of
mother-of-pearl shell, and stuck one in the socket of each eye,
so that the strangers, observing the faint rays of light reflected
from the surface of the mother-of-pearl, might think they saw
the white of his eyes, and that he was still awake.
The women from Tinirau's went on, however, with their enchantments,
and by their magical arts threw every one In the house into an
enchanted sleep, with the intention, when they had done this,
of carrying off Kae by stealth. So soon as Kae and the people
in the house were all deep in this enchanted sleep, the women
ranged themselves in a long row, the whole way from the place
where Kae was sleeping down to their canoe; they all stood in
a straight line, with a little interval between each of them;
and then two of them went to fetch Kae, and lifted the old magician
gently up, rolled up in his cloaks, just as be had laid himself
down to sleep, and placed him gently in the arms of those who
stood near the door, who passed him on to two others, and thus
they handed him on from one to another, until he at last reached
the arms of the two women who were standing in the canoe ready
to receive him; and they laid him down very gently in the canoe,
fast asleep as he was; and thus the old magician Kae was carried
off by Hine-i-te-iwaiwa and Rau-kata-uri.
When the women reached the village of Tinirau in their canoe,
they again took up Kae, and carried him very gently up to the
house of Tinirau, and laid him down fast asleep close to the
central pillar, which supported the ridge-pole of the house,
so that the place where he slept in the house of Tinirau was
exactly like his sleeping-place in his own house. The house of
Kae was, however, a large circular house, without a ridge-pole,
but with rafters springing from the central pillar, running down
like rays to low side posts in the circular wall; whilst the
house of Tinirau was a long house, with a ridge-pole running
the entire length of the roof, and resting upon the pillar in
its centre.
When Tinirau heard that the old magician had been brought
to his village, he caused orders to be given to his tribe that
when be made his appearance in the morning, going to the house
where Kae was, they should all call out loud: 'Here comes Tinirau,
here comes Tinirau', as if he was coming as a visitor into the
village of Kae, so that the old magician on hearing them might
think that he was still at home.
At broad daylight next morning, when Tinirau's people saw
him passing along through the village towards his house, they
all shouted aloud: 'Here come Tinirau, here comes Tinirau'; and
Kae, who heard the cries, started up from his enchanted sleep
quite drowsy and confused, whilst Tinirau passed straight on,
and sat down just outside the door of his house, so that he could
look into it, and, looking in, he saw Kae, and saluted him, saying:
'Salutations to you, O Kae!'-and then he asked him, saying: 'How
came you here?'-and the old magician replied: 'Nay, but rather
how came you here?'
Tinirau replied: 'Just look, then, at the house, and see if
you recognize it?'
But Kae, who was still stupefied by his sleep, looking round,
saw he was lying in his own place at the foot of the pillar,
and said: 'This is my house.'
Tinirau asked him: 'Where was the window placed in your house?'
Kae started and looked; the whole appearance of his house
appeared to be changed; he at once guessed the truth, that the
house he was in belonged to Tinirau; and the old magician, who
saw that his hour had come, bowed down his head in silence to
the earth, and they seized him, and dragged him out, and slew
him: thus perished Kae.
The news of his death at last reached his tribe-the descendants
of Popo-horokewa; and they eventually attacked the fortress of
Tinirau with a large army, and avenged the death of Kae by slaying
Tinirau's son Tu-huruhuru.
The Murder of Tu-whakararo and how he was avenged
NOW about this time Tu-huruhuru, the
son of Rupe's sister, grew up to man's estate, and he married
Apakura, and she gave birth to a son whom they named Tu-whakararo,
and afterwards to a daughter named Mairatea; she had then several
other children; then she gave birth to Whakatau-potiki; afterwards
her last child was born, and its name was Reimatua.
When Mairatea grew up, she was married to the son of a chief
named Popo-horokewa, the chief of the Ati-Hapai tribe, and she
accompanied her husband to his home; but Tu-whakararo remained
at his own village, and after a time he longed to see his sister,
and thought he would go and pay her a visit; so he went, and
arrived at a very large house belonging to the tribe Popo-horokewa,
the name of which was Te Uru-o-Manono; all the family and dependants
of Popo-horokewa lived in that house, and Tu-whakararo remained
there with them. It happened that a young sister of his brother-in-law,
whose name was Maurea, took a great fancy to him, and showed
that she liked him, although, at the very time, she was carrying
on a courtship with another young man of the Ati-Hapai tribe.
Whilst Tu-whakararo was on this visit to his brother-in-law,
some of the young men of the Ati-Hapai tribe asked him one day
to wrestle with them, and he, agreeing to this, stood up to wrestle,
and the one who came forward as his competitor was the sweetheart
of his brother-in-law's young sister. Tu-whakararo laid hold
of the young man, and soon gave him a severe fall. That match
being over they both stood up again, and Tu-whakararo, lifting
him in his arms, gave him another severe fall; and all the young
people of the Ati-Hapai tribe burst out laughing at the youth,
for having had two such heavy falls from Tuwhakararo, and he
sat down upon the ground, looking very foolish, and feeling exceedingly
sulky and provoked at being laughed at by everybody.
Tu-whakararo, having also finished wrestling, sat down too,
and began to put on his clothes again, and whilst he was in the
act of putting his head through his cloak, the young man he had
thrown in wrestling ran up, and just as his head appeared through
the cloak threw a handful of sand in his eyes. Tu-whakararo,
wild with pain, could see nothing, and began to rub his eyes,
to get the dust out and to ease the anguish; the young man then
struck hirn on the head, and killed him. The people of the Ati-Hapai
tribe then ran in upon him and cut his body up, and afterwards
devoured it; and they took his bones, and hung them up in the
roof, under the ridge-pole of their house, Te Uru-o-Manono.
Whilst they were hung up there the bones rattled together,
and his sister heard them, and it seemed to her as if they made
a sound like 'Tauparoro, Tauparoro'; and she listened again to
the rattling of the bones, and again she heard the words 'Tauparoro,
Tauparoro'. And the sister of Tu-whakararo looking up to the
bones, said: 'You rattle in vain, O bones of him who was devoured
by the Ati-Hapai tribe, for who is there to lament over him or
to avenge his death?'
At last the news of the sad event which had taken place reached
the ears of his brother, Whakatau-potiki, and of his other brothers,
and when they beard it they were grieved and pained at the fate
of their brother, and at last Whakatau-potiki adopted a firm
resolution to go and avenge Tu-whakararo's death, and as the
rest of his tribe agreed in this purpose, they began without
delay to build canoes for its execution.
They named some of their canoes the Whiritoa, the Tapatapa-hukarere,
the Toroa-i-taipakihi, the Hakirere, and the Mahunu-awatea, and
to all the other canoes which they prepared for this purpose
they also gave names; and when they had finished lashing on the
top-boards of their canoes, their mother Apakura, with all her
female attendants, began to beat and prepare fern root for the
warriors to carry with them as provisions for their voyage, and
whilst the females were thus engaged in beating and preparing
fern root for the war party who were about to start to revenge
the death of Tu-whakararo, they kept on repeating a lament for
the young man which might rouse the feelings of the warriors.
Lo, the army of Whakatau-potiki now embarked; they started
in a thousand canoes, and floated out into the open sea, and
proceeding upon their course, they landed at a certain place
which lay in their route, and there the army of Whakatau. had
a review, to show how well they could go through their manoeuvres.
They were formed into columns, and one column, with fierce shouts
and yells, afier a war dance, sprang upon the supposed enemy,
and whilst they were thus engaged with their imaginary foe, a
second column, with wild cries, advanced to their support; then
the first column of warriors retired to re-form and thus column
afier column feigned to charge their foes.
Then one body of the warriors rushed to an adjoining creek
and tried to jump across it, but they could not. A band of men
under Whakatau's immediate command were sitting upon the ground
watching the others, and when the first body gave up in despair
all thoughts of overleaping the creek, this chosen band of Whakatau
rose from the ground, started forward, reached in good order
the edge of the creek, and sprang easily across it the whole
body of them to the other side.
When the review was ended, Whakatau made a speech to the warriors,
saying: 'Warriors, all of you listen to me. We will not finish
our voyage until the dark night, lest we should be seen by the
people we are about to attack, and thus fail in surprising them.'
Just as it was dark, Whakatau ordered his own chosen band
of warriors to go and pull the plugs out of all the canoes but
their own, and they, in obedience to his orders, went round and
pulled all the plugs out of the canoes, and thus they did to
the whole of them without missing a single canoe of the whole
thousand.
This having been done, Whakatau called aloud to the whole
force: 'Now my men, let us embark at once this very night.' Then
the warriors hurriedly arose in the darkness, and all was confusion
and noise, and one canoe was launched, and then another, and
another, until all were afloat on the sea. Then they all embarked,
and the several crews sprang cheerfully into their own canoes;
but lo, presently the canoes all began to sink, one after the
other, and the crews were compelled again to seek the shore,
and to busy themselves there in repairing them. In the meantime
the chosen band of warriors of Whakatau urged on their canoes,
leaving the others behind, and when they drew near the place
where the house called Te Uru-o-Manono was situated, they landed.
Then the warriors silently surrounded the house in ranks throughout
its whole circumference, and each of the eight doors of the house
they guarded by a band of men, and Wbakatau laid hold of a man
named Hioi, whom they caught outside of the house, and he questioned
him, saying: 'Where is my sister now?' And Hioi answered him:
'She is in the house.' And he asked him again: 'In what part
of the house does Popo-horokewa sleep? Hioi replied: 'At the
foot of the large pillar which supports the ridge-pole of the
house.' Whakatau next asked: 'Has he any distinguishing mark
by which we may know him? Hioi answered: 'You may know him by
one of his teeth being broken.' Whakatau asked him one question
more, saying: 'In what part of the house does my sister sleep?'
And Hioi answered him: 'She sleeps close to that door.'
Whakatau-potiki asked him no further question, but took the
fellow and cut out his tongue, and when he had done so he made
him talk, and he still spoke quite distinctly, although a great
part of his tongue was cut out. Whakatau then took him again,
and cut his tongue off quite close to the root, and he made him
try to talk again, and nothing but an indistinct mumbling could
be heard, so he then ordered the man into the house to send his
sister out to him.
Hioi went as he was told to send Whakatau's sister to him,
for she was then in Te Uru-o-Manono, the house of her father-in-law,
Popo-horokewa. When he got inside, the whole mass of the Ati-Hapai
tribe who were sitting saw him come in, and some of them asked
him where he had been to, and what he had gone for; but what
was the use of their talking to him, since be could do nothing
but mumble out indistinct words in reply, and those who were
sitting near him wondered what could be the matter.
But the sister of Whakatau guessed in a moment that this was
some device of her brother's, and at once went out of the house,
and found Whakatau, and she and her brother wept together, partly
from joy at their meeting, partly from sorrow in thinking of
the melancholy death of their brother since they had last met.
When they had done weeping, Whakatau asked her: 'In what part
of the house does Popo-horokewa sleep? And she answered him:
'He sleeps at the foot of the large pillar which supports the
ridge-pole of the house.' And then she added: 'But oh, my brother,
a great part of the Ati-Hapai tribe have seen you before, and
they will know you.' Her brother then asked her: 'What then do
you think I had better do? His sister answered: 'You had better
cut your hair quite short to disguise yourself.'
He consented to this being done, so his sister cut his hair
quite close for him, and when she had done this she rubbed his
face all over with charcoal, and then he and his sister went
together into the house. The fire in the house had got quite
low some time before, and when they entered, the people near
where they went in, cried out: 'Make up the fire, make up the
fire; here's a stranger, here's a stranger.' So they blew up
the fire and made it bum brightly, and many of them came to see
Whakatau-potiki, and when they had looked well at him, they broke
out laughing, and said: 'What a black-looking fellow he is!'
Even Popo-horokewa burst out laughing at his appearance, and
Whakatau, when he saw him laugh, at once recognized him by his
broken tooth.
Whakatau-potiki had taken a stout rope with him when he went
into the house, and he held this ready coiled in his hand, with
a noose at one end of it; and as soon as he recognized Popo-horokewa,
he slily dropped the noose over his head, and suddenly hauling
it tight, it got fast round his neck: then, still holding the
rope in his hand, and lengthening it by degrees as he went, Whakatau
and his sister rushed out of the house; and he still hauling
with all his strength on the rope, climbed up on the roof, repeating
a powerful incantation.
Then each warrior sprang up into his place from the ground,
on which they had been lying down to conceal themselves, and
they set fire to the house in several places at once, and slaughtered
all those who tried to escape. Thus they burnt Te Uru-o-Manono,
and all those who were in it, and then the warriors returned,
and carried with them joyful news to Apakura, the mother of Tu-whakararo.
Adventures of Rata
The Enchanted Tree: Revenge for his Father's Murder
BEFORE Tawhaki ascended up into the
heavens, a son named Wahieroa had been born to him by his first
wife. As soon as Wahieroa grew to man's estate, he took Kura
for a wife, and she bore him a son whom they called Rata. Wahieroa
was slain treacherously by a chief named Matukutakotako, but
his son Rata was born some time before his death. It therefore
became his duty to revenge the death of his father Wahieroa,
and Rata having grown up, at last devised a plan for doing this:
he therefore gave the necessary orders to his dependants, at
the same time saying to them: 'I am about to go in search of
the man who slew my father.'
He then started upon a journey for this purpose, and at length
arrived at the entrance to the place of Matuku-takotako; be found
there a man who was left in charge of it, sitting at the entrance
to the court-yard, and he asked him, saying: 'Where is the man
who killed my father? The man who was left in charge of the place
answered him: 'He lives beneath in the earth there, and I am
left here by him, to call to him and warn him when the new moon
appears; at that season he rises and comes forth upon the earth,
and devours men as his food.'
Rata then said to him: 'All that you say is true, but how
can he know when the proper time comes for him to rise up from
the earth? The man replied: 'I call aloud to him.'
Then said Rata: 'When will there be a new moon? And the man
who was left to take care of the place answered him: 'In two
nights hence. Do you now return to your own village, but on the
morning of the second day from this time come here again to me.'
Rata, in compliance with these directions, returned to his
own dwelling, and waited there until the time that had been appointed
him, and on the morning of that day he again journeyed along
the road he had previously travelled, and found the man sitting
in the same place, and he asked him, saying: 'Do you know any
spot where I can conceal myself, and he hid from the enemy with
whom I am about to fight, from Matuku-takotako?' The man replied:
'Come with me until I show you the two fountains of clear water.'
They then went together until they came to the two fountains.
The man then said to Rata: 'The spot that we stand on is the
place where Matuku rises up from the earth, and yonder fountain
is the one in which he combs and washes his dishevelled hair,
but this fountain is the one he uses to reflect his face in whilst
he dresses it; you cannot kill him whilst he is at the fountain
he uses to reflect his face in, because your shadow would be
also reflected in it, and he would see it; but at the fountain
in which he washes his hair, you may smite and slay him.'
Rata then asked the man: 'Will be make his appearance from
the earth this evening? And the man answered: 'Yes.'
They had not waited long there, when evening arrived, and
the moon became visible, and the man said to Rata: 'Do you now
go and hide yourself near the brink of the fountain in which
he washes his hair'; and Rata went and hid himself near the edge
of the fountain, and the man who had been left to watch for the
purpose shouted aloud: 'Ho, ho, the new moon is visible-a moon
two days old.' And Matuku-takotako heard him, and seizing his
two-handed wooden sword, he rose up from the earth there, and
went straight to his two fountains; then he laid down his two-handed
wooden sword on the ground, at the edge of the fountain where
he dressed his hair, and kneeling down on both knees beside it,
he loosened the strings which bound up his long locks, and shook
out his dishevelled hair, and plunged down his head into the
cool clear waters of the fountain. So Rata creeping out from
where he lay hid, rapidly moved up, and stood behind him, and
as Matuku-takotako raised his head from the water, Rata, with
one hand seized him by the hair, while with the other he smote
and slew him; thus he avenged the death of his father Wahieroa.
Rata then asked the man whom he had found in charge of the
place: 'Where shall I fmd the bones of Wahieroa my father? And
the keeper of the place answered him: 'They are not here; a strange
people who live at a distance came and carried them off.'
Upon bearing this Rata returned to his own village, and there
reflected over many designs by which be might recover the bones
of his father.
At length he thought of an excellent plan for this purpose,
so he went into the forest and having found a very tall tree,
quite straight throughout its entire length, he felled it, and
cut off its noble branching top, intending to fashion the trunk
into a canoe; and all the insects which inhabit trees, and the
spirits of the forests, were very angry at this, and as soon
as Rata had returned to the village at evening, when his day's
work was ended, they all came and took the tree, and raised it
up again, and the innumerable multitude of insects, birds, and
spirits, who are called 'The offspring of Hakuturi', worked away
at replacing each little chip and shaving in its proper place,
and sang aloud their incantations as they worked; this was what
they sang with a confused noise of various voices:
Fly together, chips and shavings,
Stick ye fast together,
Hold ye fast together;
Stand upright again, O tree!
Early the next morning back came Rata, intending to work at
hewing the trunk of his tree into a canoe. When he got to the
place where he had left the trunk lying on the ground, at first
he could not find it, and if that fine tall straight tree, which
he saw standing whole and sound in the forest, was the same he
thought he had cut down, there it was now erect again; however
he stepped up to it, and manfully hewing away at it again, he
felled it to the ground once more, and off he cut its fine branching
top again, and began to hollow out the hold of the canoe, and
to slope off its prow and the stem into their proper gracefully
curved forms; and in the evening, when it became too dark to
work, he returned to his village.
As soon as he was gone, back came the innumerable multitudes
of insects, birds, and spirits, who are called the offspring
of Hakuturi, and they raised up the tree upon its stump once
more, and with a confused noise of various voices, they sang
incantations as they worked, and when they had ended these, the
tree again stood sound as ever in its former place in the forest.
The morning dawned, and Rata returned once more to work at
his canoe. When he reached the place, was not he amazed to see
the tree standing up in the forest, untouched, just as he had
at first found it? But he, nothing daunted, hews away at it again,
and down it topples crashing to the earth; as soon as he saw
the tree upon the ground, Rata went off as if going home, and
then turned back and hid himself in the underwood, in a spot
whence be could peep out and see what took place; he had not
been hidden long, when he heard the innumerable multitude of
the children of Tane approaching die spot, singing their incantations
as they came along; at last they arrived close to the place where
the tree was lying upon the ground. Lo, a rush upon them is made
by Rata. Ha, he has seized some of them; he shouts out to them,
saying: 'Ha, ha, it is you, is it, then, who have been exercising
your magical arts upon my tree?' Then the children of Tane all
cried aloud in reply: 'Who gave you authority to fell the forest
god to the ground? You had no right to do so.'
When Rata heard them say this, he was quite overcome with
shame at what be had done.
The offspring of Tane again all called out aloud to him: 'Return,
O Rata, to thy village, we will make a canoe for you.'
Rata, without delay, obeyed their orders, and as soon as he
had gone they all fell to work; they were so numerous, and understood
each what to do so well, that they no sooner began to adze out
a canoe than it was completed. When they had done this, Rata
and his tribe lost no time in hauling it from the forest to the
water, and the name they gave to that canoe was Piwaru.
When the canoe was afloat upon the sea, 140 warriors embarked
on board it, and without delay they paddled off to seek their
foes; one night, just at nightfall, they reached the fortress
of their enemies who were named Ponaturi. When they arrived there,
Rata alone landed, leaving the canoe afloat and all his warriors
on board; as be stole along the shore, he saw that a fire was
burning on the sacred place, where the Ponaturi consulted their
gods and offered sacrifices to them. Rata, without stopping,
crept directly towards the fire, and bid himself behind some
thick bushes of the harakeke;[1] he then saw that there
were some priests upon the other side of the same bushes, serving
at the sacred
[1. New Zealand flax.]
place, and, to assist themselves in their magical arts, they
were making use of the bones of Wahieroa, knocking them together
to beat time while they were repeating a powerful incantation,
known only to themselves, the name of which was Titikura. Rata
listened attentively to this incantation, until he learrit it
by heart, and when he was quite sure that he knew it, he rushed
suddenly upon the priests; they, surprised and ignorant of the
numbers of their enemy, or whence they came, made little resistance,
and were in a moment smitten and slain. The bones of his father
Wahieroa were then eagerly snatched up by him; he hastened with
them back to the canoe, embarked on board it, and his warriors
at once paddled away, striving to reach his fortified village.
In the morning some of the Ponaturi repaired to their sacred
place, and found their priests lying dead there, just as they
were slain by Rata. So, without delay, they pursued him. A thousand
warriors of their tribe followed after Rata. At length this army
reached the fortress of Rata, and an engagement at once took
place, in which the tribe of Rata was worsted, and sixty of its
warriors slam; at this moment Rata bethought him of the spell
he had learrit from the priests, and, immediately repeating the
potent incantation, Titikura, his slain warriors were by its
power once more restored to life; then they rushed again to the
combat, and the Ponaturi were slaughtered by Rata and his tribe,
a thousand of them-the whole thousand were slam.
Rata's task of avenging his father's death being thus ended,
his tribe hauled up his large canoe on the shore, and roofed
it over with thatch to protect it from the sun and weather. Rata
now took Tonga-rautawhiri as one of his wives, and she bore him
a son whom he named Tu-whakararo[1]; when this son came
*[But see (The Murder of Tu-whakaro) ante, where Tu-whakararo
is a son of Apakura.]
to man's estate, he took Apakura as one of his wives, and
from her sprang a son named Whakatau. He was not born in the
manner that mortals are, but came into being in this way: one
day Apakura went down upon the sea-coast, and took off a little
apron which she wore in front as a covering, and threw it into
the ocean, and a god named Rongo-takawiu took it and shaped it,
and gave it form and being, and Whakatau sprang into life, and
his ancestor Rongo-takawiu taught him magic and the use of enchantments
of every kind.
When Whakatau was a little lad, his favourite amusement was
flying kites. Mortals then often observed kites flying in the
air, and could see nothing else, for Whakatau was running about
at the bottom of the waters, still holding the end of the string
of the kite in his bands. One day he stole up out of the water
by degrees, and at length came upon the shore, when the whole
of his body was quite plainly seen by some people who were near,
and they ran as fast as they could to catch him. When Whakatau
observed them all running to seize him, he slipped back again
into the water, and continued flying his kite as before; but
the people who had seen him were surprised at this strange sight,
and being determined to catch him the next time he came out,
they sat down upon the bank to wait for him. At last Whakatau
came up out of the water again, and stepped on shore once more;
then the people who were watching for him, all ran at full speed
to catch him. When Whakatau saw them coming after him again,
he cried out: 'You had better go and bring Apakura here, she
is the only person who can catch me and hold me fast.'
When they heard this, one of them ran to fetch Apakura, and
she came with him at once, and as soon as she saw little Whakatau,
she called out to him: 'Here I am, I am Apakura.' Whakatau then
stopped running, and Apakura caught hold of him with her hands,
and she questioned him, saying: 'Whom do you belong to? And Whakatau.
answered her: 'I am your child; you one day threw the little
apron which covered you on the sands of the sea, and the god
Rongo-takawiu, my ancestor, formed me from it, and I grew up
a human being, and he named me Whakatau.'
From that time Whakatau left the water and continued to live
on shore. His principal amusement, as long as he was a lad, was
still flying kites; but he understood magic well, and nothing
was concealed from him, and when he grew up to be a man he became
a renowned hero.
This second legend of the destruction by Whakatau-potiki of
the house called Te Tihi-o-Manono, or Te Uru-o-Manono, is added
because it differs consistently from the other, and is often
alluded to in ancient poems.
Tinirau determined to attempt to avenge the death of his descendant
Tu-huruhuru, and he thought that the best person to do this was
Whakatau, whom he knew to be very skilful in war, and in enchantments,
so he directed his wife Hine-i-te-iwaiwa to find Whakatau, and
she went in search; when she reached a village near where she
expected to find him, she asked some people whom she saw, where
Whakatau was, and they answered her: 'He is on the top of yonder
hill flying a kite.' She at once proceeded on her way until she
came to the hill, and seeing a man there, she asked him: 'Can
you tell me where I can find Whakatau?'-and he replied: 'You
must have passed him as you came here.' Then she returned to
the village where she had seen the people, and said to them:
'Why, the man upon the hill says that Whakatau is here'; but
they told her that the man who had spoken to her must have been
Whakatau himself, and that she had better return to him, and
told her marks by which she might know him; she therefore returned,
and he, after some time, when she showed him that she knew certain
marks about his person, admitted that he was Whakatau; and he
then asked her what had made her come to him, and she replied:
'Tinirau sent me to you to ask you to come and assist in revenging
the death of my son; the warriors are all collecting at the village
of Tinirau, but they fear to go to attack this enemy, for it
is the bravest of all the enemies of Tinirau.' Whakatau then
asked her: 'Have you yet given a feast to the warriors?'and she
said, 'Not yet.' He then spoke to her, saying: 'Return at once
and when you reach your village, give a great feast to the warriors;
give them abundance of potted birds from the forest, but let
all the oil in which the birds were preserved be kept for me;
as for yourself, do not go to the feast, but, decking your head
with a mourning dress of feathers, remain seated close in the
house of mourning.' Then Hine-i-te-iwaiwa at once returned to
Tinirau, to do as she had been directed.
Shortly after his visitor had left him, Whakatau called aloud
to his people, saying: 'Let the side-boards be at once fresh
lashed on to our canoe, to the canoe of our ancestor of Rata.'
His men were so anxious to fulfil their chief's orders, that
almost as soon as he had spoken they were at work, and had finished
the canoe that very day, and dragged it down to the sea; when
night fell, six of his warriors embarked in it, and Whakatau
made the seventh; they then paddled off, following a direct course,
until they reached the village of Tinirau where they found Hine-i-teiwaiwa
seated in her house of mourning. Whakatau then asked her: 'Have
the warriors all left yet?'-and she replied: 'They will not do
it, they are afraid.' Whakatau then said to her: 'Farewell, then;
do you remain here until you hear further from me.'
Whakatau and his men having re-embarked in their canoe, made
a straight course for the place where was situated the great
house called Te Tihi-o-Manono, and they let their anchor drop,
and floated there.
When the next morning broke, and some of the people of the
village coming out of the house, and beyond their defences, saw
the canoe floating at the anchorage, they gave the alarm, crying
out: 'A war party! a war party!' Then the warriors came rushing
forth to the fray in crowds, and arranged themselves in bands.
Then stood forth one of their champions whose name was Mango-huri-tapena,
and he defied Whakatau, who was standing up in his canoe, calling
out: 'Were you fool enough, then, to come here of your own accord?'-and
Whakatau answered him, by shouting out: 'Which of the arts of
war do you consider yourself famous for?'-and Mango-huri-tapena
shouted out in answer: 'I am a most skilful diver.' 'Dive here,
then, if you dare', shouted out Whakatau in reply. Then the champion
of the enemy gave a plunge into the water, and dived under it.
just as he got right under the canoe, one of Whakatau's men poured
the oil which Hine-i-te-iwaiwa had given them into the sea, and
its waters immediately became quite transparent, so that they
saw the warrior come floating up under the canoe, and Whakatau
transfixed him with a wooden spade; so that champion perished.
Then forward stepped another champion named Pi-takataka, and
he defied Whakatau, shouting out: 'Ah! You only killed Mango-huri-tapena
because he chanced to put himself in a wrong position.' Whakatau
shouted out in reply: 'Which of the arts of war are you skilled
in, then?'-and he answered: 'Oh! I leap so skilftilly that I
seem to fly in the air.' 'Then leap here, if you dare', answered
Whakatau; and the champion of his enernies took a run and made
a spring high into the air; but Whakatau laid a noose on the
canoe, and as the warrior alighted in it, he drew it tight, and
caught him as a bird in a springe, and thus slew that warrior
also.
And thus, one after the other, he slew ten of the most famous
warriors of his enemies; one whom he had seized, he saved alive,
but he cut out his tongue, and then said to him: 'Now, off with
you to the shore again, and tell them there bow I have overcome
you all'; having done this, Whakatau retired a little distance
back from the place, so that his canoe could not be seen by his
enemies.
In the afternoon Whakatau landed on the coast, and before
eating anything, offered the prescribed sacrifice of the hair
and a part of the skin of the head of one of his victims to the
gods; and when the religious rites were firdshed, he ate food;
and having done this, he directed the people he had with him
to return, saying: 'Return at once, and when you reach the residence
of Hine-i-teiwalwa, speak to her, saying: "Whakatau told
us to come, and tell you, that he could not return with us"';
and he further said: 'If heavy rain falls in large drops, it
is a sign that I have been killed; but if a light, misty rain
falls, and the whole horizon is lighted up with flames, then
you may know that I have conquered, and that I have burnt Te
Tihi-o-Manono'; he also said that 'he wished you to sit upon
the roof of your house watching until you saw Te Tihi-o-Manono
burnt.' Whakatau's people at once returned to Hine-i-te-iwaiwa
to deliver the message he bad given them.
Just before nightfall, Whakatau drew near the great house,
called Te Tihi-o-Manono, and as the people of Whiti-nakonako,
a great chief, were collecting firewood at the edge of a forest,
he stealthily dropped in amongst them, pretending to be collecting
firewood too; and as they were going home with their loads of
firewood upon their backs, he managed to push on in front of
them, and got into the house first with a long rope in his hand:
one end of this he pushed between one of the side posts which
supported the roof, and the plank walls of the house, and did
the same with every post of the house, until the rope had gone
quite round it, and then he made one end of it fast to the last
post, and held the other end in his band.
By this time the people who lived in the house all came crowding
in to pass the night in it, and soon filled it up: the house
was so large, and there were so many of them, that they had to
light ten fires in it.
When their fires had burnt up brightly, some of them called
out to Mango-pare, the man whom Whakatau bad saved alive, and
whose tongue he had cut out: 'Well, now, tell us what kind of
looking fellow that was who cut your tongue out'; and Mangopare
answered: 'There is no one I can compare him to, he was not like
a man in the proportion of his frame.' One of them then called
out: 'Was he at all like me? But Mango-pare answered: 'There
is nobody I can compare him to.' Then another called out: 'Was
he at all like me?'-and another: 'Was he like me?' -until, at
length, Marigo-pare cried out: 'Have I not already told you,
that there is not one ofyou whom I can compare to him?
Whakatau himself then exclaimed: 'Was he at all like me? And
Mango-pare, who had not before seen him in the crowd, looked
attentively at him for a minute, and then cried out: 'I say,
look here all of you at this fellow, he is not unlike the man,
he looks very like him, perhaps it is he himself.' But Whakatau
coolly asked him again: 'Was the man really something like me?
And Mango-pare replied: 'Yes, he was like you; I really think
it was you'; and Whakatau shouted aloud: 'You are right, it was
was I.' As soon as they heard this, all of them in a moment sprang
to their feet. But, at the same instant, Whakatau laid hold of
the end of the rope which he had passed round the posts of the
house, and, rushing out, pulled it with all his strength, and
straightway the house fell down, crushing all within it, so that
the whole tribe perished, and Whakatau, who had escaped to the
outside of the house, set it on fire, and Hine-i-te-iwaiwa, who
was sitting upon the roof of her own house watching for the event,
saw the whole of one part of the heavens red with its flames,
and she knew that her enenues were destroyed. Whakatau, having
thus avenged the death of Tu-huruhuru the son of Tinirau, returned
to his own village.
The Dissensions at Hawaiki
Toi-te-huatahi and Tama-te-kapua
OUR ancestors formerly separated-some
of them were left in Hawaiki, and some came here in canoes. Tuamatau
and Uenuku paddled in their canoes here to Ao-tea; again, at
that time some of them were separated from each other, that is
to say, Uenuku and Houmai-tawhiti.
For in the time of Houmai-tawhiti there had been a great war,
and thence there were many battles fought in Hawaiki; but this
war had commenced long before that time, in the days of Whakatauihu,
of Tawhaki, and of Tu-huruhuru, when they carried off Kae alive
from his place as a payment for Tutunui; and the war continued
until the time of the disputes that arose on account of the body
of warriors of Manaia. Again after that came the troubles that
arose from the act of desecration that was committed by the dog
of Houmai-tawhiti and of his sons in eating the matter that bad
sloughed from an ulcer of Uenuku's. Upon this occasion, when
Toi-te-huatahi and Uenuku saw the dog, named Potaka-tawhiti,
do this, they killed it, and the sons of Houmai-tawhiti missing
the dog, went everywhere searching for it, and could not find
it; they went from village to village, until at last they came
to the village of Toi-te-huatahi, and as they went they kept
calling his dog.
At last the dog howled in the belly of Toi' 'Ow!' Then Tamate-kapua
and Whakaturia called their dog again, and again it howled 'Ow!'
Then Toi' held his mouth shut as close as ever he could, but
the dog still kept on howling in his inside. Thence Toi' said
as follows, and his words passed into a proverb: 'O, hush, hush!
I thought I had hid you in the big belly of Toi', and there you
are, you cursed thing, still howling away.'
When Tama-te-kapua and his brother had thus arrived there,
he asked: 'Why did you not kill the dog and bring it back to
me, that my heart might have felt satisfied, and that we might
have remained good friends? Now, I'll tell you what it is, O
my relations, you shall by and by hear more of this.' Then as
soon as the two brothers got home, they began immediately to
make stilts for Tama-te-kapua, and as soon as these were finished,
they started that night and went to the village of Toi' and Uenuku,
and arrived at the fine poporo tree of Uenuku, covered
with branches and leaves, and they remained eating the fruit
of it for a good long time, and then went home again.
This they continued doing every night, until at last Uenuku
and his people found that the fruit of his poporo tree
was nearly all gone, and they all wondered what had become of
the fruit of the poporo tree, and they looked for traces, and
there were some-the traces of the stilts of Tama'. At night they
kept watch on the tree: whilst one party was coming to steal,
the other was lying in wait to catch them; this latter had not
waited very long when Tama' and his brother came, and whilst
they were busy eating, those who were lying in wait rushed upon
them, and caught both of them.
They seized Whakaturia at the very foot of the tree; Tama'
made his escape, but they gave chase, and caught him on the sea-shore.
As soon as they had him firn-dy, those who were holding on cried
out: 'Some of you chop down his stilts with an axe, so that the
fellow may fall into the water'; and all those who had hold of
him cried out: 'Yes, yes, let him fall into the sea.' Then Tama'
called down to them: 'If you fell me in the water, I shall not
be hurt, but if you cut me down on shore, the fall will kill
me.' And when those who were behind, and were just running up,
heard this, they thought well of it, so they chopped him down
on shore, and down he came with a heavy fall, but in a moment
he was on his feet, and off he went, like a bird escaped from
a snare, and so got safe away.
Then all the village began to assemble to see Whakaturia put
to death; and when they were collected, some of them said: 'Let
him be put to death at once'; and others said: 'Oh, don't do
that; you had much better hang him up in the roof of Uenuku's
house, that he may be stifled by the smoke, and die in that way.'
And the thought pleased them all, so they hung him up in the
roof of the house, and kindled a fire, and commenced dancing,
and when that ceased they began singing, but their dancing and
singing was not at all good, but indeed shockingly bad; and this
they did every night, until at last a report of their proceedings
reached the ears of his brother Tama' and of their father.
And Tama' heard: 'There's your brother hanging up in the roof
of Uenuku's great house, and he is almost stifled by the smoke.'
So he thought he would go and see him, and ascertain whether
he still lived in spite of the smoke. He went in the night, and
arrived at the house, and gently climbed right upon the top of
the roof, and making a little hole in the thatch, immediately
over the spot where his brother hung, asked him in a whisper:
'Are you dead?'-but he whispered up to him: 'No, I'm still alive.'
And his brother asked again in a whisper: 'How do these people
dance and sing, do they do it well?' And the other replied: 'No,
nothing can be worse; the very bystanders do nothing but firid
fault with the way in which they dance and sing.'
Then Tama' said to him: 'Would not it be a good thing for
you to say to them: "I never knew anything so bad as the
dancing and singing of those people"; and if they reply:
"Oh, perhaps you can dance and sing better than we do",
do you answer: "That I can". Then if they take you
down, and say: "Now, let us see your dancing", you
can answer: "Oh I am quite filthy from the soot; you had
better in the first place give me a little oil, and let me dress
my hair, and give me some feathers to ornament my head with";
and, if they agree to all this, when your hair is dressed, perhaps
they will say: "There, that will do, now dance and sing
for us". Then do you answer them: "Oh, I am stiff looking
quite dirty, first lend me the red apron of Uenuku, that I may
wear it as my own, and his carved twohanded sword as my weapon,
and then I shall really look fit to dance"; and if they
give you all these things, then dance and sing for them. Then
I your brother will go and seat myself just outside the doorway
of the house, and when you rush out, I'll bolt the house-door
and window, and when they try to pursue and catch you, the door
and window will be bolted fast, and we two can escape without
danger.' Then he fmished talking to him.
Then Whakaturia called down to Uenuku, and to all his people,
who were assembled in the house: 'Oh, all you people who are
dancing and singing there, listen to me.' Then they all said:
'Silence, silence, make no more noise there, and listen to what
the fellow is saying who is hanging up there; we thought he had
been stifled by the smoke, but no such thing; there he is, alive
still.' So they all kept quiet.
Then those who were in the house called up to him: 'Hallo,
you fellow hanging up in the roof there, what are you saying;
let's hear you.' And he answered: 'I mean to say that you don't
know any good dances or songs, at least that I have heard.' Then
the people in the house answered: 'Are you and your tribe famous
for your dancing and singing then?'-and he answered: 'Their songs
and dances are beautiful'; and they asked: 'Do you yourself know
how to dance and sing? Then Uenuku said: 'Let him down then';
and he was let down, and the people all called out to him: 'Now
dance away.' And he did everythlug exactly as Tama-te-kapua had
recommended him.
Then Whakaturia called out to them: 'Make a very bright fire,
so that there may be no smoke, and you may see well'; and they
made a bright clear fire. Then he stood up to dance, and as he
rose from his seat on the ground, he looked bright and beautiful
as the morning star appearing in the horizon, and as he flourished
his sword his eyes flashed and glittered like the mother-of-pearl
eyes in the head carved on the handle of his two-handed sword,
and he danced down one side of the house, and reached the door,
then he turned and danced up the other side of the house, and
reached the end opposite the door, and there he stood.
Then he said quietly to them: 'I am dying with heat, just
slide back the door, and let it stand open a little, that I may
feel the cool air'; and they slid the door back and left it open.
Then the lookers-on said: 'Come, you've rested enough; the fresh
air from outside must have made you cool enough; stand up, and
dance.' Then Whakaturia rose up again to dance, and as he rose
up, Tama-te-kapua stepped up to the door of the house, and sat
down there, with two sticks in his hand, all ready to bolt up
the sliding door and window.
Then Whakaturia, as is the custom in the dance, turned round
to his right hand, stuck out his tongue, and made hideous faces
on that side; again he turned round to the left hand, and made
hideous faces on that side; his eyes glared, and his sword and
red apron looked splendid; then he sprung about, and appeared
hardly to stand for a moment at the end of the house near the
door, before he had sprung back to the other end, and standing
just a moment there, he made a spring from the inside of the
house, and immediately he was beyond the door. Up sprang Tama-te-kapua,
and instantly bolted the door; back ran Whakaturia; he helped
his brother to bolt up the window, and there they heard those
inside cursing and swearing, and chattering like a hole full
of young parrots, whilst away ran Tama' and his brother. A stranger
who was presently passing by the house, pulled the bolts out
of the door and window for them, and the crowd who had been shut
into the house came pouring out of it.
The next morning Toi' and Uenuku felt vexed indeed, for the
escape of those they had taken as a payment for the fruit of
their luxuriant poporo tree, and said: 'If we had had
the sense to kill them at once, they would never have escaped
in this way. In the days which are coming, that fellow will return,
seeking revenge for our having hung him up in the roof of the
house.' And before long Uenuku and Toi-te-huatahi went to make
war on Tamate-kapua and his people, and some fell on both sides;
and at length a breach in the fortifications of the town of Houmai-tawhiti
and of his sons was entered by a storming party of Uenuku's force,
and some of the fences and obstructions were carried; and the
people of Houmai-tawhiti cried out: 'Oh, Hou', oh, here are the
enemy pressing their way in'; and Houmai-tawhiti shouted in reply:
'That's right; let them in, let them in, till they reach the
very threshold of the house of Houmai-tawhiti.' Thrice his men
called out this to Hou', and thrice did he answer them in the
same manner. At last up rose Hou' with his sons; then the struggle
took place; those of the enemy that were not slain were allowed
to escape back out of the town, but many of the slain were left
there, and their bodies were cut up, baked, and devoured.
Then, indeed, a great crime was committed by Hou' and his
family, and his warriors, in eating the bodies of those men,
for they were their near relations, being descended from Tamateakai-ariki.
Thence cowardice and fear seized upon the tribe of Hou': formerly
they were all very brave indeed, but at last Hou' and all his
tribe became cowardly, and fit for nothing, and Hou' and Whakaturia
both died, but Tama-te-kapua and his children, and some of his
relations, still lived, and he determined to make peace, that
some remnant of his tribe might be saved; and the peace was long
preserved.
Discovery of New Zealand
Poutini and Whaiapu
NOW pay attention to the cause of the
contention which arose between Poutini and Whaiapu, which led
them to emigrate to New Zealand. For a long time they both rested
in the same place, and Hine-tua-hoanga, to whom the stone Whaiapu
belonged, became excessively enraged with Ngahue, and with his
prized stone Poutini. At last she drove Ngahue out and forced
him to leave the place, and Ngahue departed and went to a strange
land, taking his jasper. When Hine-tua-hoanga saw that he was
departing with his precious stone, she followed after them, and
Ngabue arrived at Tuhua with his stone, and Hine-tua-hoanga arrived
and landed there at the same time with him, and began to drive
him away again. Then Ngahue went to seek a place where his jasper
might remain in peace, and be found in the sea this island Ao-tea-roa
(the northern island of New Zealand), and he thought he would
land there.
Then be thought again, lest he and his enemy should be too
close to one another, and should quarrel again, that it would
be better for him to go farther off with his jasper, a very long
way off. So he carried it off with him, and they coasted along,
and at length arrived at Arahura (on the west coast of the middle
island), and he made that an everlasting resting-place for his
jasper; then he broke off a portion of his jasper, and took it
with him and returned, and as be coasted along lie at length
reached Wairere (believed to be upon the east coast of the northern
island), and he visited Whanga-paraoa and Tauranga, and from
thence he returned direct to Hawaiki, and reported that he had
discovered a new country which produced the moa and jasper in
abundance. He now manufactured sharp axes from his jasper; two
axes were made from it, Tutauru and Hauhau-te-rangi. He manufactured
some portions of one piece of it into images for neck ornaments,
and some portions into ear ornaments; the name of one of these
ear ornaments was Kaukau-matua, which was recently in the possession
of Te Heuheu, and was only lost in 1846, when he was killed with
so many of his tribe by a landslip. The axe Tutauru was only
lately lost by Pu-raho-kura and his brother Rere-tai, who were
descended from Tama-ihu-toroa. When Ngahue, returning, arrived
again in Hawaiki, he found them all engaged in war, and when
they heard his description of the beauty of this country of Ao-tea,
some of them determined to come here.
Building Canoes for Emigration
They then felled a totara tree in Rarotonga, which lies on
the other side of Hawaiki, that they might build the Arawa from
it. The tree was felled, and thus the canoe was hewn out from
it and finished. The names of the men who built this canoe were,
Rata, Wahie-roa, Ngahue, Parata, and some other skilful men,
who helped to hew out the Arawa and to fmish it.
A chief of the name of Hotu-roa, hearing that the Arawa was
built, and wishing to accompany them, came to Tama-te-kapua and
asked him to lend him his workmen to hew out some canoes for
him too, and they went and built and finished Tainui and some
other canoes.
The workmen above mentioned are those who built the canoes
in which our forefathers crossed the ocean to this island, to
Ao-tea-roa. The names of the canoes were as follows: the Arawa
was first completed, then Tainui, then Matatua, and Taki-tumu,
and Kura-hau-po, and Toko-maru, and Matawhaorua. These are the
names of the canoes in which our forefathers departed from Hawaiki,
and crossed to this island. When they had lashed the topsides
on to the Tainui, Rata slew the son of Manaia, and bid his body
in the chips and shavings of the canoes. The names of the axes
with which they hewed out these canoes were Hauhaute-Rangi, and
Tutauru. Tutauru was the axe with which they cut off the head
of Uenuku.
All these axes were made from the block of jasper brought
back by Ngahue to Hawaiki, which was called 'The fish of Ngahue'.
He had previously come to these islands from Hawaiki, when he
was driven out from thence by Hine-tua-hoanga, whose fish or
stone was obsidian. From that cause Ngalme came to these islands;
the canoes which afterwards arrived here came in consequence
of his discovery.
The Voyage to New Zealand
WHEN the canoes were built and ready
for sea, they ere dragged afloat, the separate lading of each
canoe as collected and put on board, with all the crews. Tama-te-kapua
then remembered that he had no skilful priest on board his canoe,
and he thought the best thing he could do was to outwit Ngatoro-i-rangi,
the chief who had command of the Tainui. So just as his canoe
shoved off, he called out to Ngatoro: 'I say, Ngatoro, just come
on board my canoe, and perform the necessary religious rites
for me.' Then the priest Ngatoro came on board, and Tama-te-kapua
said to him: 'You had better also call your wife, Kearoa on board,
that she may make the canoe clean or common, with an offering
of sea-weed to be laid in the canoe instead of an offering of
fish, for you know the second fish caught in a canoe, or seaweed,
or some substitute, ought to be offered for the females, the
first for the males; then my canoe will be quite common, for
all the ceremonies will have been observed, which should be followed
with canoes made by priests.' Ngatoro assented to all this, and
called his wife, and they both go into Tama's canoe. The very
moment they were on board, Tama' called out to the men on board
his canoe: 'Heave up the anchors and make sail'; and he carried
off with him Ngatoro and his wife, that he might have a priest
and wise man on board his canoe. Then they up with the fore-sail,
the main-sail, and the mizen, and away shot the canoe.
Up then came Ngatoro from below, and said: 'Shorten sail,
that we may go more slowly, lest I miss my own canoe.' And Tama'
replied: 'Oh, no, no; wait a little, and your canoe will follow
after us.' For a short time it kept near them, but soon dropped
more and more astern, and when darkness overtook them, on they
sailed, each canoe proceeding on its own course.
Two thefts were upon this occasion perpetrated by Tama-tekapua;
he carried off the wife of Ruaeo, and Ngatoro and his wife, on
board the Arawa. He made a fool of Ruaeo too, for he said to
him: 'Oh, Rua', you, like a good fellow, just run back to the
village and fetch me my axe Tutauru, I pushed it in under the
sill of the window of my house.' And Rua' was foolish enough
to run back to the house. Then off went Tama' with the canoe,
and when Rua' came back again, the canoe was so far off that
its sails did not look much bigger than little flies. So he fell
to weeping for all his goods on board the canoe, and for his
wife Whakaoti-rangi, whom Tama-te-kapua had carried off as a
wife for himself. Tama-te-kapua committed these two great thefts
when be sailed for these islands. Hence this proverb: 'A descendant
of Tama-te-kapua will steal anything he can.'
When evening came on, Rua' threw himself into the water, as
a preparation for his incantations to recover his wife, and he
then changed the stars of evening into the stars of morning,
and those of the morning into the stars of the evening, and this
was accomplished. In the meantime the Arawa scudded away far
out on the ocean, and Ngatoro thought to himself. 'What a rate
this canoe goes at-what a vast space we have already traversed.
I know what I'll do, I'll climb up upon the roof of the house
which is built on the platform joining the two canoes, and try
to get a glimpse of the land in the horizon, and ascertain whether
we are near it, or very far off.' But in the first place he felt
some suspicions about his wife, lest Tama-te-kapua should steal
her too, for he had found out what a treacherous person he was.
So he took a string and tied one end of it to his wife's hair,
and kept the other end of the string in his hand, and then he
climbed up on the roof. He had hardly got on the top of the roof
when Tama' laid hold of his wife, and he cunningly untied the
end of the string which Ngatoro had fastened to her hair, and
made it fast to one of the beams of the canoe, and Ngatoro feeling
it tight thought his wife had not moved, and that it was still
fast to her. At last Ngatoro came down again, and Tamate-kapua
heard the noise of his steps as he was coming, but he had not
time to get the string tied fast to the hair of Kearoa's head
again, but he jumped as fast as he could into his own berth,
which was next to that of Ngatoro, and Ngatoro, to his surprise,
found one end of the string tied fast to the beam of the canoe.
Then he knew that his Wife had been disturbed by Tama', and
he asked her, saying: 'Oh, wife, has not some one disturbed you?
Then his wife replied to him: 'Cannot you tell that from the
string being fastened to the beam of the canoe? And then he asked
her: 'Who was it? And she said: 'Who was it, indeed? Could it
be anyone else but Tama-te-kapua?' Then her husband said to her:
'You are a noble woman indeed thus to confess this; you have
gladdened my heart by this confession; I thought after Tama'
had carried us both off in this way, that he would have acted
generously, and not loosely in this nianner; but, since he has
dealt in this way, I will now have my revenge on him.'
Then that priest again went forth upon the roof of the house
and stood there, and he called aloud to the heavens, in the same
way that Rua' did, and he changed the stars of the evening into
those of morning, and he raised the winds that they should blow
upon the prow of the canoe, and drive it astern, and the crew
of the canoe were at their wits' end, and quite forgot their
skill as seamen, and the canoe drew straight into the whirlpool,
called 'The throat of Te Parata',[1] and dashed right into that
whirlpool.
The canoe became engulfed by the whirlpool, and its prow disappeared
in it. In a moment the waters reached the first bailing place
in the bows, in another second they reached the second bailing
place in the centre, and the canoe now appeared to be going down
into the whirlpool head foremost; then up started Hei, but before
he could rise they had already sunk far into the whirlpool. Next
the rush of waters was heard by Ihenga, who slept forward, and
he shouted out: 'Oh, Ngatoro, oh, we are settling down head first.
The pillow of your wife Kearoa has already fallen from under
her head!' Ngatoro sat astern listening; the same cries of distress
reached him a second time. Then up sprang Tama-te-kapua, and
he in despair shouted out: 'Oh, Ngatoro, Ngatoro, aloft there!
Do you hear? The canoe is gone down so much by the bow, that
Kearoa's pillow has rolled from under her head.' The priest heard
them, but neither moved nor answered until he heard the goods
rolling from the decks and splashing into the water; the crew
meanwhile held on to the canoe with their hands with great difficulty,
some of them having already fallen into the sea.
When these things all took place, the heart of Ngatoro was
moved with pity, for he heard, too, the shrieks and cries of
the men, and the weeping of the women and children. Then up stood
that mighty man again, and by his incantations changed the aspect
of the heavens, so that the storm ceased, and he repeated another
incantation to draw the canoe back out of the whirlpool, that
is, to lift it up again.
[1. The Maoris have another name for this whirlpool; they
call it 'the steep descent where the world ends.']
Lo, the canoe rose up from the whirlpool, floating rightly;
but, although the canoe itself thus floated out of the whirlpool,
a great part of its lading had been thrown out into the water,
a few things only were saved, and remained in the canoe. A great
part of their provisions were lost as the canoe was sinking into
the whirlpool. Thence comes the native proverb, if they can give
a stranger but little food, or only make a present of a small
basket of food: 'Oh, it is the half-filled basket of Whakaoti-rangi,
for she only managed to save a very small part of her provisions.'
Then they sailed on, and landed at Whanga-paraoa, In Ao-tea here.
As they drew near to land, they saw with surprise some pohutukawa
trees of the sea-coast, covered with beautiful red flowers, and
the still water reflected back the redness of the trees. Then
one of the chiefs of the canoe cried out to his messmates: 'See
there, red ornaments for the head are much more plentiful in
this country than in Hawaiki, so I'll throw my red head ornaments
into the water'; and, so saying, he threw them into the sea.
The name of that man was Tauninihi; the name of the red head
ornament he threw into the sea was Taiwhakaea. The moment they
got on shore they ran to gather the pohutukawa flowers,
but no sooner did they touch them than the flowers fell to pieces;
then they found out that these red head ornaments were nothing
but flowers. All the chiefs on board the Arawa were then troubled
that they should have been so foolish as to throw away their
red ornaments into the sea. Very shortly afterwards the ornaments
of Tauninihi were found by Mahina on the beach of Mahiti. As
soon as Tauninihi heard they had been picked up, he ran to Mahina
to get them again, but Mahina would not give them up to him;
thence this proverb for anything which has been lost and is found
by another person: 'I will not give it up, 'tis the red head
ornament which Mahina found.'
As soon as the party landed at Whanga-paraoa, they planted
sweet potatoes, that they might grow there; and they are still
to be found growing on the cliffs at that place.
Then the crew, wearied from the voyage, wandered idly along
the shore, and there they found the fresh carcase of a sperm
whale stranded upon the beach. The Taimu had already arrived
in the same neighbourhood, although they did not at first see
that canoe nor the people who had come in it; when, however,
they met, they began to dispute as to who had landed first and
first found the dead whale, and as to which canoe it consequently
belonged; so, to settle the question, they agreed to examine
the sacred place which each party had set up to return thanks
in to the gods for their safe arrival, that they might see which
had been longest built; and, doing so, they found that the posts
of the sacred place put up by the Arawa were quite green, whilst
the posts of the sacred place set up by the Tainui had evidently
been carefully dried over the fire before they had been fixed
in the ground. The people who had come in the Tainui also showed
part of a rope which they had made fast to its jaw-bone. When
these things were seen, it was admitted that the whale belonged
to the people who came in the Tainui, and it was surrendered
to them. And the people in the Arawa, determining to separate
from those in the Tainui, selected some of their crew to explore
the country in a north-west direction, following the coast line.
The canoe then coasted along, the land party following it along
the shore; this was made up of 140 men, whose chief was Taikehu,
and these gave to a place the name of Te Ranga-a-Taikehu.
The Tainui left Whanga-paraoa[1] shortly after the Arawa,
and, proceeding nearly in the same direction as the Arawa, made
the
[1. Whanga-paraoa, the bay of the sperm whale, so called from
the whale found there.]
Gulf of Hauraki, and then coasted along to Rakau-mangamanga,
or Cape Brett, and to the island with an arched passage through
it, called Motukokako, which lies off the cape; thence they ran
along the coast to Whiwhia, and to Te Au-kanapanapa, and to Muri-whenua,
or the country near the North Cape. Finding that the land ended
there, they returned again along the coast until they reached
the Tamaki, and landed there, and afterwards proceeded up the
creek to Tau-oma, or the portage, where they were surprised to
see flocks of sea-gulls and oyster-catchers passing over from
the westward; so they went off to explore the country in that
direction, and to their great surprise found a large sheet of
water lying immediately behind them, so they determined to drag
their canoes over the portage at a place they named Otahuhu,
and to launch them again on the vast sheet of salt-water which
they had found.
The first canoe which they hauled across was the Toko-maru
-that they got across without difficulty. They next began to
drag the Tamui over the isthmus; they hauled away at it in vain,
they could not stir it; for one of the wives of Hotu-roa, named
Marama-kiko-hura, who was unwilling that the tired crews should
proceed further on this new expedition, had by her enchantments
fixed it so firmly to the earth that no human strength could
stir it; so they hauled, they hauled, they excited themselves
with cries and cheers, but they hauled in vain, they cried aloud
in vain, they could not move it. When their strength was quite
exhausted by these efforts, then another of the wives of Hotu-roa,
more learned in magic and incantations than Marama-kiko-hura,
grieved at seeing the exhaustion and distress of her people,
rose up, and chanted forth an incantation far more powerful than
that of Marama-kiko-hura; then at once the canoe glided easily
over the carefully-laid skids, and it soon floated securely upon
the harbour of Manuka. The willing crews urged on the canoes
with their paddles; they soon discovered the mouth of the harbour
upon the west coast, and passed out through it into the open
sea; they coasted along the western coast to the southwards,
and discovering the small port of Kawhia, they entered it, and,
hauling up their canoe, fixed themselves there for the time,
whilst the Arawa was left at Maketu.
We now return to the Arawa. We left the people of it at Tauranga.
That canoe next floated at Motiti;[1] they named that place after
a spot in Hawaiki (because there was no firewood there). Next
Tia, to commemorate his name, called the place now known by the
name of Rangiuru, Takapu-o-tapui-ika-nuia-Tia. Then Hei stood
up and called out: 'I name that place Takapti-o-wal-tahanui-a-Hei';
the name of that place is now Otawa. Then stood up Tama-te-kapua,
and pointing to the place now called the Heads of Maketu, he
called out: 'I name that place Te Kuraetanga-o-te-ihu-o-Tama-te-kapua.'
Next Kahn called a place after his name, Motiti-nui-a-Kahu.
Ruaeo, who had already arrived at Maketu, started up. He was
the first to arrive there in his canoe-Pukeatea-wal-nui for he
had been left behind by the Arawa, and his wife Whakaoti-rangi
had been carried off by Tama-te-kapua, and after the Arawa had
left he had sailed in his own canoe for these islands, and landed
at Maketu, and his canoe reached land the first; well, he started
up, cast his line into the sea, with the hooks attached to it,
and they got fast in one of the beams of the Arawa, and it was
pulled ashore by him (whilst the crew were asleep), and the hundred
and forty men who had accompanied him stood upon the beach of
Maketu, with skids all ready laid, and the
[1. Kai Motiti koe e noho ana, 'I suppose you are at Motiti,
as you can find no firewood.']
Arawa was by them dragged upon the shore in the nigbt, and
left there; and Ruaco seated himself under the side of the Arawa,
and played upon his flute, and the music woke his wife, and she
said: 'Dear me, that's Rua'!'-and when she looked, there be was
sitting under the side of the canoe; and they passed the night
together.
At last Rua' said: 'O mother of my children, go back now to
your new husband, and presently I'll play upon the flute and
putorino, so that both you and Tama-te-kapua may hear.
Then do you say to Tama-te-kapua "O! la, I had a dream in
the night that I heard Rua' playing a tune upon his flute",
and that will make him so jealous that be will give you a blow,
and then you can run away from him again, as if you were in a
rage and hurt, and you can come to me.'
Then Whakaoti-rangi returned, and lay down by Tama-tekapua,
and she did everything exactly as Rua' had told her, and Tama'
began to beat her (and she ran away from him). Early in the morning
Rua' performed incantations, by which he kept all the people
in the canoe in a profound sleep, and whilst they still slept
from his enchantments, the sun rose, and mounted high up in the
heavens. In the forenoon, Rua' gave the canoe a heavy blow with
his club; they all started up; it was almost noon, and when they
looked down over the edge of their canoe, there were the hundred
and forty men of Rua' sitting under them, all beautifully dressed
with feathers, as if they had been living on the Gannet Island,
in the channel of Karewa, where feathers are so abundant; and
when the crew of the Arawa heard this, they all rushed upon deck,
and saw Rua' standing in the midst of his one hundred and forty
warriors.
Then Rua' shouted out as he stood: 'Come here, Tama-tekapua;
let us two fight the battle, you and I alone. If you are stronger
than I am, well and good, let it be so; if I am stronger than
you are, I'll dash you to the earth.'
Up sprang then the hero Tama-te-kapua; he held a carved two-handed
sword, a sword the handle of which was decked with red feathers.
Rua'held a similar weapon. Tama' first struck a fierce blow at
Rua'. Rua' parried it, and it glanced harmlessly off; then Rua'
threw away his sword, and seized both the arms of Tama-te-kapua;
he held his arms and his sword, and dashed him to the earth.
Tama' half rose, and was again dashed down; once more he almost
rose, and was thrown again. Still Tama' fiercely struggled to
rise and renew the fight. For the fourth time he almost rose
up, then Rua', overcome with rage, took a heap of vermin (this
he had prepared for the purpose, to cover Tama' with insult and
shame), and rubbed them on Tama-te-kapua's head and ear, and
they adhered so fast that Tama' tried in vain to get them out.
Then Rua' said: 'There, I've beaten you; now keep the woman,
as a payment for the insults I've heaped upon you, and for having
been beaten by me.' But Tama' did not hear a word he said; he
was almost driven mad with pain and itching, and could do nothing
but stand scratching and rubbing his head; whilst Rua' departed
with his hundred and forty men to seek some other dwelling-place
for themselves; if they had turned against Tama' and his people
to fight against them, they would have slain them all.
These men were giantsTama-te-kapua was nine feet high,
Rua' was eleven feet high: there have been no men since that
time so tall as those heroes. The only man of these later times
who was as tall as these was Tu-hou-rangi: he was nine feet high;
he was six feet up to the arm-pits. This generation have seen
his bones, they used to be always set up by the priests in the
sacred places when they were made high places for the sacred
sacrifices of the natives, at the times the potatoes and sweet
potatoes were dug up, and when the fishing season commenced,
and when they attacked an enemy; then might be seen the people
collecting, in their best garments, and with their ornaments,
on the days when the priests exposed Tu-hou-rangi's bones to
their view. At the time that the island Mokoia, in the lake of
Roto-rua, was stormed and taken by the Nga-Puhi, they probably
carried those bones off, for they have not since been seen.
After the dispute between Tama-te-kapua and Rua' took place,
Tama' and his party dwelt at Maketu, and their descendants after
a little time spread to other places. Ngatoro-i-rangi went, however,
about the country, and where be found dry valleys, stamped on
the earth, and brought forth springs of water; be also visited
the mountains, and placed patupaiarehe, or fairies, there,
and then returned to Maketu and dwelt there.
After this a dispute arose between Tama-te-kapua and Kahumata-momoe,
and in consequence of that disturbance, Tama' and Ngatoro removed
to Tauranga, and found Taikehu living there, and collecting food
for them (by fishing), and that place was called by them Te Ranga-a-Taikehu;[1]
it lies beyond Motu-hoa; then they departed from Tauranga, and
stopped at Kati-kati, where they ate food. Tama's men devoured
the food very fast, whilst he kept on only nibbling his, therefore
they applied this circumstance as a name for the place, and called
it: 'Kati-kati-o-Tama-te-kapua', the nibbling of Tama-te-kapua;
they then halted at Whakahau, so called because they here ordered
food to be cooked, which they did not stop to eat, but went right
on with Ngatoro, and this circumstance gave its name to the place;
and they went on from place to place till they arrived at Whitianga,
[1. The fishing bank of Taikehu.]
which they so called from their crossing the river there,
and they continued going from one place to another till they
came to Tangiaro, and Ngatoro, stuck up a stone and left it there,
and they dwelt in Moe-hau and Hauraki.
They occupied those places as a permanent residence, and Tama-te-kapua
died, and was buried there. When he was dying, he ordered his
children to return to Maketu, to visit his relations; and they
assented, and went back. If the children of Tama-tekapua had
remained at Hauraki, that place would not have been left to them
as a possession.
Tama-te-kapua, when dying, told his children where the precious
ear-drop Kaukau-matua was, which he had hidden under the window
of his house; and his children returned with Ngatoro to Maketu,
and dwelt there; and as soon as Ngatoro arrived, he went to the
waters to bathe himself, as he had come there in a state of tapu,
upon account of his having buried Tamate-kapua, and having bathed,
he then became free from the tapu and clean.
Ngatoro then took the daughter of Ihenga to wife, and he went
and searched for the precious ear-drop Kaukau-matua, and found
it, as Tama-te-kapua had told him. After this the Wife of Kabu-mata-momoe
conceived a child.
At this time Ihenga, taking some dogs with him to catch kiwi[1]
with, went to Paritangi by way of Hakomiti, and a kiwi
was chased by one of his dogs, and caught in a lake, and the
dog ate some of the fish and shell-fish in the lake, after diving
in the water to get them, and returned to its master carrying
the captured kiwi in its mouth, and on reaching its master, it
dropped the kiwi, and vomited up the raw fish and shell-fish
which it had eaten.
When Ihenga saw his dog wet all over, and the fish it had
[1. Apterix australis]
vomited up, he knew there was a lake there, and was extremely
glad, and returned joyfully to Maketu, and there he had the usual
religious ceremonies which follow the birth of a child performed
over his wife and the child she had given birth to; and when
this had been done, he went to explore the country which he bad
previously visited with his dog.
To his great surprise he discovered a lake; it was Lake Roto-iti;
he left a mark there to show that he claimed it as his own. He
went farther and discovered Lake Roto-rua; he saw that its waters
were running; he left there also a mark to show that he claimed
the lake as his own. As he went along the side of the lake, he
found a man occupying the ground; then he thought to himself
that he would endeavour to gain possession of it by craft, so
he looked out for a spot fit for a sacred place, where men could
offer up their prayers, and for another spot fit for a sacred
place, where nets could be hung up, and he found fit spots; then
he took suitable stones to surround the sacred place with, and
old pieces of seaweed, looking as if they had years ago been
employed as offerings, and he went into the middle of the shrubbery,
thick with boughs of the taha shrub, of the koromiko,
and of the karamu; there he struck up the posts of the
sacred place in the midst of the shrubs, and tied bunches of
flax-leaves on the posts, and having done this he went to visit
the village of the people who lived there.
They saw someone approaching and cried out: 'A stranger, a
stranger, is coming here!' As soon as Ihenga heard these cries,
he sat down upon the ground, and then, without waiting for the
people of the place to begin the speeches, he jumped up, and
commenced to speak thus: 'What theft is this, what theft is this
of the people here, that they are taking away my land?'-for he
saw that they had their store-houses full of prepared fern-roots
and of dried fish, and shell-fish, and their heaps of fishing-nets,
so as he spoke, he appeared to swell with rage, and his throat
appeared to grow large from passion as he talked: 'Who authorized
you to come here, and take possession of my place? Be off, be
off, be off! Leave alone the place of the man who speaks to you,
to whom it has belonged for a very long time, for a very long
time indeed.'
Then Maru-punga-nui, the son of Tu-a-roto-rua, the man to
whom the place really belonged, said to Ihenga: 'It is not your
place, it belongs to me; if it belongs to you, where is your
village, where is your sacred place, where is your net, where
are your cultivations and gardens?
Ihenga answered him: 'Come here and see them.' So they went
together, and ascended a hill, and Ihenga said: 'See there, there
is my net hanging up against the rocks.' But it was no such thing,
it was only a mark like a net hanging up, caused by part of a
cliff having slipped away; 'and there are the posts of the pine
round my village'; but there was really nothing but some old
stumps of trees; 'look there too at my sacred place a little
beyond yours; and now come with me, and see my sacred place,
if you are quite sure you see my village, and my fishing-netcome
along.' So they went together, and there he saw the sacred place
standing in the shrubbery, until at last he believed Ihenga,
and the place was all given up to Ihenga, and he took possession
of it and lived there, and the descendants of Tu-a-roto-rua departed
from that place, and a portion of them, under the chiefs Kawa-arero
and Mata-aho, occupied the island of Mokoia, in Lake Roto-rua.
At this time Ngatoro again went to stamp on the earth, and
to bring forth springs in places where there was no water, and
came out on the great central plains which surround Lake Taupo,
where a piece of large cloak made of kiekie leaves was
stripped off by the bushes, and the strips took root, and became
large trees, nearly as large as the kahikatea (they are
called painanga, and many of them are growing there still).
Whenever be ascended a hill, he left marks there, to show
that he claimed it; the marks he left were fairies. Some of the
generation now living have seen these spirits; they are malicious
spirits. If you take embers from an oven in which food has been
cooked, and use them for a fire in a house, these spirits become
offended; although there be many people sleeping in that house,
not one of them could escape (the fairies would, whilst they
slept, press the whole of them to death).
Ngatoro went straight on and rested at Taupo, and he beheld
that the summit of Mount Tongariro was covered with snow, and
he was seized with a longing to ascend it, and he climbed up,
saying to his companions who remained below at their encampment:
'Remember now, do not you, who I am going to leave behind, taste
food from the time I leave you until I return, when we will all
feast together.' Then he began to ascend the mountain, but he
had not quite got to the summit when those he had left behind
began to eat food, and he therefore found the greatest difficulty
in reaching the summit of the mountain, and the hero nearly perished
in the attempt.
At last he gathered strength, and thought he could save himself,
if he prayed aloud to the gods of Hawaiki to send fire to him,
and to produce a volcano upon the mountain; (and his prayer was
answered,) and fire was given to him, and the mountain became
a volcano, and it came by the way of Whakaari, or White Island,
of Mau-tobora, of Okakaru, of Roto-ehu, of Rotoiti, of Roto-rua,
of Tara-wera, of Pae-roa, of Orakei-korako, and of Taupo; it
came right underneath the earth, spouting up at all the above-mentioned
places, and ascended right up Tongariro, to him who was sitting
upon the top of the mountain, and thence the hero was revived
again, and descended, and returned to Maketu, and dwelt there.
The Arawa had been laid tip by its crew at Maketu, where they
landed, and the people who had arrived with the party in the
Arawa spread themselves over the country, examining it, some
penetrating to Roto-rua, some to Taupo, some to Whanganui, some
to Rua-tahuna, and no one was left at Maketu but Hei and his
son, and Tia and his son, and the usual place of residence of
Ngatoro-i-rangi was on the island of Motiti. The people who came
with the Tainui were still in Kawhia, where they had landed.
One of their chiefs, named Raumati, heard that the Arawa was
laid up at Maketu, so he started with all his own immediate dependants,
and reaching Tauranga, halted there, and in the evening again
pressed on towards Maketu, and reached the bank of the river,
opposite that on which the Arawa was lying, thatched over with
reeds and dried branches and leaves; then he slung a dart, the
point of which was bound round with combustible materials, over
to the other side of the river; the point of the dart was lighted,
and it stuck right in the dry thatch of the roof over the Arawa,
and the shed of dry stuff taking fire, the canoe was entirely
destroyed.
On the night that the Arawa was burnt by Raumati, there was
not a person left at Maketu; they were all scattered in the forests,
at Tapu-ika, and at Waitaha, and Ngatoro-i-rangi was at that
moment at his residence on the island of Motiti. The pa,
or fortified village at Maketu, was left quite empty, without
a soul in it. The canoe was lying alone, with none to watch it;
they had all gone to collect food of different kinds-it happened
to be a season in which food was very abundant, and from that
cause the people were all scattered in small parties about the
country, fishing, fowling, and collecting food.
As soon as the next morning dawned, Raumati could see that
the fortified village of Maketu was empty, and not a person left
in it, so he and his armed followers at once passed over the
river and entered the village, which they found entirely deserted.
At night, as the Arawa burnt, the people, who were scattered
about in the various parts of the country, saw the fire, for
the bright glare of the gleaming flames was reflected in the
sky, lighting up the heavens, and they all thought that it was
the village at Maketu that had been burnt; but those persons
who were near Waitalia and close to the sea-shore near where
the Arawa was, at once said: 'That must be the Arawa which is
burning; it must have been accidentally set on fire by some of
our friends who have come to visit us.' The next day they went
to see what had taken place, and when they reached the place
where the Arawa had been lying, they found it had been burnt
by an enemy, and that nothing but the ashes of it were left them.
Then a messenger started to all the places where the people were
scattered about, to warn them of what had taken place, and they
then first heard the bad news.
The children of Hou', as they discussed in their house of
assembly the burning of the Arawa, remembered the proverb of
their father, which he spake to them as they were on the point
of leaving Hawaiki, and when be bid them farewell.
He then said to them: 'O my children, O Mako, O Tia, O Hei,
hearken to these my words: there was but one great chief in Hawaiki,
and that was Whakatauihu. Now do you, my dear children, depart
in peace, and when you reach the place you are going to, do not
follow after the deeds of Tu, the god of war; if you do you will
perish, as if swept off by the winds, but rather follow quiet
and useful occupations, then you will die tranquilly a natural
death. Depart, and dwell in peace with all, leave war and strife
behind you here. Depart, and dwell in peace. It is war and its
evils which are driving you from hence; dwell in peace where
you are going, conduct yourselves like men, let there be no quarrelling
amongst you, but build up a great people.'
These were the last words which Houmai-tawhiti addressed to
his children, and they ever kept these sayings of their father
firmly fixed in their hearts. 'Depart in peace to explore new
homes for yourselves.'
Uenuku perhaps gave no such parting words of advice to his
children, when they left him for this country, because they brought
war and its evils with them from the other side of the ocean
to New Zealand. But, of course, when Raumati burnt the Arawa,
the descendants of Houmai-tawhiti could not help continually
considering what they ought to do, whether they should declare
war upon account of the destruction of their canoe, or whether
they should let this act pass by without notice. They kept these
thoughts always close in mind, and impatient feelings kept ever
rising up in their hearts. They could not help saying to one
another: 'it was upon account of war and its consequences, that
we deserted our own country, that we left our fathers, our homes,
and our people, and war and evil are following after us here.
Yet we cannot remain patient under such an injury, every feeling
urges us to revenge this wrong.'
At last they made an end of deliberation, and unanimously
agreed that they would declare war, to obtain compensation for
the evil act of Raumati in burning the Arawa; and then commenced
the great war which was waged between those who arrived in the
Arawa and those who arrived in the Tainui.
The Curse of Manaia
Manaia and Ngatoro-i-rangi
WHEN the Tainui and the Arawa sailed
away from Hawaiki with Ngatoro-i-rangi on board, he left behind
him his younger sister, Kuiwai, who was married to a powerful
chief named Manaia. Some time after the canoes had left, a great
meeting of all the people of his tribe was held by Manaia, to
remove a tapu, and when the religious part of the ceremony
was ended, the women cooked food for the strangers.
When their ovens were opened, the food in the oven of Kuiwai,
the wife of Manaia, and sister of Ngatoro-i-rangi, was found
to be much under done, and Manaia was very angry with his wife,
and gave her a severe beating, and cursed, saying: 'Accursed
be your head; are the logs of firewood as sacred as the bones
of your brother, that you were so sparing of them as not to put
into the fire in which the stones were heated enough to make
them red hot? Will you dare to do the like again? If you do I'll
serve the flesh of your brother in the same way, it shall frizzle
on the red-hot stones of Wai-korora.'
And his poor wife was quite overcome with shame, and burst
out crying, and went on sobbing and weeping all the time she
was taking the under-done food out of the oven, and when she
had put it in baskets, and earned them up to her husband, and
laid them before him, she ate nothing herself, but went on one
side and cried bitterly, and then retired and hid herself in
the house.
And just before night closed in on them, she cast her garments
on one side, and girded herself with a new sash made from the
young shoots of the toetoe, and stood on the threshold,
and spread out her gods, Kahu-kura, Itu-pawa, and Rongo-mai,
and she and her daughter, and her sister Haunga-roa, stood before
them, and the appearance of the gods was most propitious; and
when her incantations were ended, she said to her daughter: 'My
child, your journey will be a most fortunate one.' The gods were
then by her bound up in cloths, and she hung them up again, and
returned into the house.
She then said to her daughter: 'Now depart, and when you reach
your uncle Ngatoro, and your other relations, tell them that
they have been cursed by Manaia, because the food in my oven
was not cooked upon the occasion of a great assembly for taking
off a tapu, and that he then said: "Are the logs
in the forest as sacred as the bones of your brother, that you
are afraid to use them in cooking; or are the stones of the desert
the kidneys of Ngatoro-i-rangi, that you don't heat them; by
and by I'll frizzle the flesh of your brother on red-hot stones
taken from Wai-korora." Now, my child, depart to your uncle
and relations; be quick, this is the season of the wind of Pungawere,
which will soon waft them here.'
The women then took by stealth the gods of the people, that
is to say, Maru, and Te Iho-o-te-rangi, and Rongo-mai, and Itu-pawa,
and Haunga-roa, and they had no canoe for their journey, but
these gods served them as a canoe to cross the sea. For the first
canoes which had left Hawaiki for New Zealand carried no gods
for human beings with them; they only carried the gods of the
sweet potatoes and of fish, they left behind them the gods for
mortals, but they brought away with them prayers, incantations,
and a knowledge of enchantments, for these things were kept secret
in their minds, being learnt by heart, one from another.
Then the girl and her companions took with them Kahu-kura,
and Itu-pawa, and Rongo-mai, and Marti, and the other gods, and
started on their journey; altogether there were five women, and
they journeyed and journeyed towards New Zealand, and, borne
up by the gods, they traversed the vast ocean till at last they
landed on the burning island of Whakaari, and when daylight appeared,
they floated again on the waters, and finally landed on the northern
island of New Zealand, at Tawhiuwhiu, and went by an inland route,
and stopped to eat food at a place whence they had a good view
over the plains, and after the rest of the party had done eating,
Haunga-roa still went on, and two of her companions teased her,
saying: 'Hallo! Haunga-roa, what a long time you continue eating';
and those plains have ever since been called Kamga-roa, or Kaingaroa-o-Haunga-roa
(the long meal of Haunga-roa). Haunga-roa, who was much provoked
with the two women who thus teased her, smote them on the face,
whereupon they fled from her, and Haunga-roa pursued them a long
way, but she pursued in vain, they would not come back to her,
so by her enchantments she changed them into ti trees, which
stand on the plains whilst travellers approach them, but which
move from place to place when they attempt to get close (and
the natives believe that the trees are there at the present day).
Then the other three women continued their journey, and they
at length reached the summit of a hill, and sat down there to
rest themselves, and whilst they were resting, Haunga-roa thought
of her mother, and love for her overcame her, and she wept aloud-and
that place has ever since been called Te Tangibanga, or the place
of weeping.
After they had rested for some time, they continued their
journey, until they reached the open summit of another high hill,
which they named Piopio, and from thence they saw the beautiful
lake of Roto-rua lying at their feet, and they descended towards
it, and came down upon the geyser, which spouts up its jets of
boiling water at the foot of the mountain, and they reached the
lake itself, and wound round it along its sandy shores; then
leaving the lake behind them, they struck off towards Maketu,
and at last reached that place also, coming out of the forests
upon the sea-coast, close to the village of Tuhoro, and when
they saw the people there, they called out to them: 'Whereabout
is the residence of Ngatoro-i-rangi? And the people answered
them: 'He lives near the large elevated storehouse which you
see erected on the hill there'; and the niece of Ngatoroi-rangi,
saw the fence which surrounded his place, and she walked straight
on towards the wicket of the fortification; she would not however
pass In through it like a common person, but climbed the posts,
and clambered into the fortress over its wooden defences, and
having got inside, went straight on to the house of Ngatoro-i-rangi,
entered it, and going right up to the spot which was sacred,
from his sitting on it, she seated herself down there.
When Ngatoro-i-rangi's people saw this, one of them ran off
with all speed to tell his master, who was then at work with
some of his servants on his farm, and having found him be said:
'There is a stranger just arrived at your residence, who carries
a travelling bag as if she had come from a long journey, and
she would not come in at the gate of the fortress, but climbed
right over the wooden defences, and has quietly laid her travelling-bag
upon the very roof of your sacred house, and has walked up and
seated herself in the very seat that your sacred person generally
occupies.'
When the servant had ended his story, Ngatoro at once guessed
who this stranger from a distance must be, and said: 'It is my
niece'; and he then asked: 'Where is Te Kehu?'and they
told him, 'He is at work in his plantation of sweet potatoes.'
And he bid them fetch him at once, and to be quick about it;
and when he arrived they all went together to the place where
his niece was, and when he reached her, be at once led her before
the altar, and she gave them the gods which she had brought with
her from Hawaiki.
Then she said to them: 'Come now, and let us be cleansed by
diving in running water, and let the ceremony of whangai-horo
be performed over us, for you have been cursed by Manahua and
his tribe.'
When they heard this they cried aloud, and tore off their
clothes, and ran to a running stream and plunged into it, and
dashed water over themselves, and the priests chanted the proper
incantations, and performed all the prescribed ceremonies; and
when these were finished they left the stream, and went towards
the village again, and the priests chanted incantations for cleansing
the court-yard of the fortress from the defilement of the curse
of Manaia; but the incantations for this purpose have not been
handed down to the present generation.
The priests next dug a long pit, termed the pit of wrath,
into which by their enchantments they might bring the spirits
of their enemies, and hang them and destroy them there; and when
they had dug the pit, muttering the necessary incantations, they
took large shells in their hands to scrape the spirits of their
enemies into the pit with, whilst they muttered enchantments;
and when they had done this, they scraped the earth into the
pit again to cover them up, and beat down the earth with their
hands, and crossed the pit with enchanted cloths, and wove baskets
of flax-leaves, to hold the spirits of the foes which they had
thus destroyed, and each of these acts they accompanied with
proper spells.
The religious ceremonies being all ended, they sat down, and
Ngatoro-i-rangi wept over his niece, and then they spread food
before the travellers; and when they had finished their meal
they all collected in the house of Ngatoro-i-rangi, and the old
men began to question the strangers, saying: 'What has brought
you here? Then Kuiwai's daughter said: 'A curse which Manaia
uttered against you; for when they had finished making his sacred
place for him, and the females were cooking food for the strangers
who attended the ceremony, the food in Kuiwai's oven was not
well cooked, and Manaia cursed her and you, saying: "Is
firewood as sacred as the bones of your brethren, that you fear
to burn it in an oven? I'll yet make the flesh of your brothers
hiss upon red-hot stones brought from Wai-korora, and heated
to warm the oven in which they shall be cooked." That curse
is the curse that brought me here, for my mother told me to hasten
to you.'
When Ngatoro-i-rangi heard this, he was very wroth, and he
in his turn cursed Manaia, saying: 'Thus shall it be done unto
you-your flesh shall be cooked with stones brought from Maketu.'
Then he told all his relations and people to search early the
next morning for a large totara tree, from which they might build
a canoe, as they had no canoe since Raumati had burnt the Arawa.
Then the people all arose very early the next morning, and
with them were the chosen band of one hundred and forty warriors,
and they went out to search for a large totara tree, and
Kulwal's daughter went with them, and she found a great totara
tree fallen down, and nearly buried in the earth; so they dug
it out, and they framed a large canoe from it, which they named
'The totara tree, dug from the earth'; and they hauled it down
to the shore, and, launching it, embarked, and paddled out to
sea, and the favourable wind of Pungawere was blowing strong,
and it blew so for seven days and nights, and wafted them across
the ocean, and at the end of that time they had again reached
the shores of Hawaiki.
The name of the place at which they landed in Hawaiki was
Tara-i-whenua; they landed at night-time, and drew their canoe
up above high-water mark, and laid it in the thicketsl that none
might see that strangers had arrived.
Ngatoro-i-rangi then went at once to a fortified village named
Whaitiri-ka-papa, and when he arrived there he walked carelessly
up to the house of Kuiwai, and peeping in at the door, said that
she was wanted outside for a minute; and she, knowing his voice,
came out to him immediately; and Ngatoro-i-rangi questioned her
saying: 'Have you anything to say to me, that I ought to know?
And she replied: 'The whole tribe of Manaia are continually occupied
in praying to their gods, at the sacred place; they pray to them
to bring you and your tribe here, dead; perhaps their incantations
may now have brought you here.' Then Ngatoro asked her: 'In what
part of the heavens is the sun when they go to the sacred place?'and
she answered: 'They go there early In the morning.' Then Ngatoro-i-rangi
asked her again: 'Where are they all in the evening?'-and she
replied: 'In the evening they collect in numbers in their villages
for the night, in the morning they disperse about.' Then, just
as Ngatoro-i-rangi was going, he said to her: 'At the dawn of
morning climb up on the roof of your house that you may have
a good view, and watch what takes place.' Having thus spoken,
he returned to the main body of his party.
Then Ngatoro related to them all that his sister had told
him; and when they had heard this, Tangaroa, one of his chiefs,
said: 'My counsel is, that we storm their fortress this night';
but then stood up Rangitu, another chief, and said: 'Nay, but
rather let us attack it in the morning.' Now arose Ngatoro, and
he spake aloud to them and said: 'I agree with neither of you.
We must go to the sacred place, and strike our noses until they
bleed and we are covered with blood, and then we must he on the
ground like dead bodies, every man with his weapon hid under
him, and their priests will imagine that their enchantmcnts have
brought us here and slam us; so shall we surprise them.' On hearing
these words from their leader they all arose, and following him
in a body to the court-yard of the sacred place, they found that
the foolish priests had felt so sure of compelling their spirits
by enchantments to bring Ngatoro and his tribe there, and to
slay them for them, that they bad even prepared ovens to cook
their bodies in, and these were all lying open ready for the
victims; and by the sides of the ovens they had laid in mounds
the green leaves, all prepared to place upon the victims before
the earth was heaped in to cover them up, and the firewood and
the stones were also lying ready to be heated. Then the one hundred
and forty men went and laid themselves down in the ovens dug
out of the earth, as though they had been dead bodies, and they
turned themselves about, and beat themselves upon their noses
and their faces until they bled, so that their bodies became
all covered with blood, like the corpses of men slain in battle;
and then they lay still in the ovens: the weapons they had with
them were short clubs of various kinds, such as clubs of jasper
and of basalt, and of the bones of whales, and the priests whom
they had with them having found out the sacred place of the people
of that country, entered it, and hid themselves there.
Thus they continued to lie in the ovens until the sun arose
next morning, and until the priests of their enemies, according
to their custom each day at dawn, came to spread leaves and other
offerings to the gods in the sacred place, and diere, to their
surprise, these priests found the warriors of Ngatoro-i-rangi
all lying heaped up in the ovens. Then the priests raised joyful
shouts, crying: 'At last our prayers have been answered by the
gods; here, here are the bodies of the host of Ngatoro and of
Tama' lying heaped up In the cooking places. This has been done
by our godhe carried them off, and brought them here.'
The multitude of people in the village hearing these cries, ran
out to see the wonder, and when they saw the bodies of the one
hundred and forty lying there, with the blood in clots dried
on them, they began to cry out-one, 'I'll have this shoulder';
another, 'And I'll have this thigh'; and a third, 'That head
is mine'; for the blood shed from striking their noses during
the previous night was now quite clotted on their bodies; and
the priests of those who were lying in the ovens having hidden
themselves in the bushes of the shrubbery round the sacred place,
could not be seen by the priests of the town of Manaia when rhey
entered the sacred place, to perform the fitting rites to the
gods.
So these latter cried aloud, as they offered thanksgivings
to the gods for having granted their prayers, and for having
fulfilled their wishes; butjust as their ceremonies were finished,
the priests of the war party of Ngatoro-i-rangi rushing out of
their hiding places upon the other priests, slew them, so that
the priests were first slain, as offerings to the gods. Then
arose the one hundred and forty men from the ovens, and rushed
upon their enemies: all were slain, not one escaped but Manaia,
and he fled to the town; but they at once attacked and carried
the town by assault, and then the slaughter ceased. And the first
battle at the sacred place was called Ihu-motomotokia, or the
battle of 'Bruised Noses'; and the name of the town which was
taken was Whaitiri-ka-papa, but Manaia again escaped from the
assault on the town. They entered the breaches in the town as
easily as if they had been walking in at the door of a house
left open to receive them, whence this proverb has been handed
down to us: 'As soon as ever you have defeated your enemy, storm
their town.' The priests now turned over the bodies of the first
slain, termed the holy fish, as offerings set apart for the gods,
and said suitable prayers, and when these ceremonies were ended
the conquerors cooked the bodies of their enemies, and devoured
the whole of them; but soon afterwards the warriors of the other
towns of Manaia which had not been assaulted, were approaching
as a forlorn hope to attack their enermes.
In the meanwhile Ngatoro-i-rangi and his warriors, unaware
of this, had retired towards their canoe, whilst the host of
warriors whom Manaia had again assembled were following upon
their traces. They soon came to a stream which they had to pass,
and fording that they left it behind them, and gained their canoe,
but by the time they were there their pursuers had reached the
stream they had just left.
Ngatoro-i-rangi now felt thirsty, and remembered that they
had no water for the crew of the canoe, so he said: 'There is
no water here for us'; and Rangitu hearing the voice of his commander,
answered cheerfully: 'No, there is none here, but there is plenty
in the stream we have just crossed.' So they gave the great calabash
of the canoe to Rangitu, and he returned towards the stream,
but before he got there the host of Manaia had reached it, and
had occupied its banks.
Rangitu, who did not see them, as soon as he got to the edge
of the stream, dipped his calabash to fill it, and as it did
not sink easily, being empty and very light, he stooped down
and put his hand upon it to press it under the water; and whilst
he was holding it with one hand to press it down, one of the
enemy, stealing on him, made a blow at him with his weapon. Rangitu
saw nothing, but merely heard the whizz of the weapon as it was
sweeping down through the air upon his head, and quick as thought
be jerks the calabash out of the water, and holds it as a shield
in the direction in which he heard the blow coming down upon
him; the weapon is parried off from one side of his head, but
the calabash is shattered to pieces, and nothing but the mouth
of the vessel which he was holding is left in his hand.
Then off he darts, fast as he can fly, and reachesbefore
the enemyNgatoro-i-rangi and his one hundred and forty
warriors; as soon as he is thus sure of support, ill a moment
he turns upon his foes. Ha, ha! he slays the first of the enemy,
and carries off his victim. Then lo! Tangaroa has risen up, he
is soon amongst the enemy, he slays and carries off the second
man. Next, Taniate-kapua kills and carries off his man; thus
is it with each warrior; the enemy then breaks and flees, and
a great slaughter is made of the host of Manaia, yet he himself
again escapes with his life. The name given to this battle was
Tarai-whenua-kura.
Having thus avenged themselves of their enernies, they again
returned to these islands and settled at Maketu, and cultivated
farms there. Manaia, on his part, was not idle, for shortly after
they had left his place of residence, he, with his tribe, set
to work at refitting their canoes.
Ngatoro-i-rangi, in the meantime, occupied the island of Motiti,
off 'Tauranga, in the Bay of Plenty. There he built a fortified
village, which he named Matarehua, and a large house ornamented
with carved work, which he named Tai-maihi-o-Rongo; and he made
a large underground store for his sweet potatoes, which he named
Te Marihope; and he and his old wife generally lived nearly alone
in their village on Motiti, whilst the great body of their people
dwelt on the mainland at Maketu; whilst the old couple were in
this way living on Motiti, suddenly one evening Manaia, with
a large fleet of canoes and a whole host of warriors, appeared
off the coast of the island, and they pulled straight up to the
landing-place, opposite to the house of Ngatoro-i-rangi, and
lay on their paddles there, whilst Manaia hailed him, calling
out: 'Ho! brother-in-law, come out here if you dare, let us fight
before the daylight is gone.' Ngatoro-i-rangi no sooner heard
the voice of Manaia, than he came boldly out of the house, although
he was almost alone, and there be saw the whole host of Manaia
lying on their paddles at the anchorage off his landing-place;
but he at once hailed them, shouting out: 'Well done, O brother-in-law,
just anchor where you are for the night, it is already getting
dark, and we shall not be able to see to meet the edge of one
weapon with the other; the warriors could not, therefore, parry
one another's blows; to-morrow morning we will fight as much
as you like.' Manaia no sooner heard this proposal, than he assented
to it, saying: 'You are right, it has already grown dark.' And
Ngatoro answered him: 'You had better bring-to your canoes in
the anchorage outside there.' Manaia therefore told his army
to anchor their canoes, and to lose no time in cooking their
food on board; and the priest Ngatoro-i-rangi remained in his
fortress.
All the early part of the night Ngatoro-i-rangi remained in
the sacred place, performing enchantments and repeating mcantations,
and his wife was with him muttering her incantations; and having
finished them, they both returned to their house, and there they
continued to perform religious rites, calling to their aid the
storms of heaven; whilst the host of Manaia did nothing but amuse
themselves, singing hakas and songs, and diverting themselves
thoughtlessly as war parties do: little did they think that they
were so soon to perish; no, they flattered themselves that they
would destroy Ngatoro-i-rangi, having now caught him almost alone.
So soon as the depth of night fell upon the world, whilst
Ngatoro and his aged wife were still in the house, and the old
woman was sitting at the window watching for what might take
place, she heard the host of Manaia insulting herself and her
husband, by singing taunting war-songs. Then the ancient priest
Ngatoro, who was sitting at the upper end of the house, rises
up, unloosens and throws off his garments, and repeats his incantations,
and calls upon the winds, and upon the storms, and upon the thunder
and lightning, that they may all arise and destroy the host of
Manaia; and the god Tawhiri-ma-tea harkened unto the priest,
and he permitted the winds to issue forth, together with hurricanes,
and gales, and storms, and thunders and lightnings; and the priest
and his wife harkened anxiously that they might hear the first
bursting forth of the winds, and thunders and lightnings, and
of the rain and hail.
Then, when it was the middle space between the commencement
of night and the commencement of the day, burst forth the winds,
and the rain, and the lightning, and the thunder, and into the
harbour poured all the mountainous waves of the sea, and there
lay the host of Manaia overcome with sleep, and snoring loudly;
but when the ancient priest and his wife heard the rushing of
the winds and the roaring of the waves, they closed their house
up securely, and lay composedly down to rest, and as they lay
they could hear a confused noise, and cries of terror, and a
wild and tumultuous uproar from a mighty host, but before very
long, all the loud confusion became hushed, and nothing was to
be heard but the heavy rolling of the surges upon the beach;
nor did the storm itself last very long-it had soon ceased.
When the next morning broke, the aged wife of Ngatoro went
out of her house, and looked to see what had become of the host
of Manaia, and as she cast her eyes along the shore, there she
saw them lying dead, cast up on the beach. The name Ngatoro-i-rangi
gave to this slaughter was Maikuku-tea; the name given to the
storm which slew them all was Te Aputahia-Pawa. He gave the name
of Maikuku-tea to the slaughter, because the fish having eaten
the bodies of Manaia's warriors, only their bones, and the nails
of their hands and feet, but hardly any part of their corpses,
could be found.
Of the vast host of Manaia that perished, not one escaped:
the body of Manaia himself they recogulzed by some tattoo marks
upon one of his arms. Ngatoro now lighted a signal fire as a
sign to his relations and warriors at Maketu that he wanted them
to cross over to the island; and when his chosen band of one
hundred and forty warriors saw the signal, they launched their
canoe and pulled across to join their chief, and on reaching
the island, they found that the host of Manaia had all perished.
Thus was avenged the curse of Mutahanga and of Manaia; however,
it would have been far better if the canoe Arawa had not been
burnt by Raumati, then Ngatoro and his warriors would have had
two canoes to return in to Hawaiki, to revenge their wrongs,
and the whole race of Manaia would have been utterly destroyed.
It would also have been far better if Ngatoro and his people
had remained at Maketu, and bad never gone to Moe-hau; then the
Arawa would not have been burnt; for from the burning of that
canoe by Raumati sprang the war, the events of which have now
been recounted.
Hatupatu and His Brothers
WHEN Taina-te-kapua went with his followers
to Moe-hau, the hill near Cape Colville, and Ihenga and his followers
went to Roto-rua, then Ha-mu, Ha-roa, and Hatupatu went also
to Whakamaru, to Maroa, to Tuata, to Tutuka, to Tuaropaki, to
Hauhungaroa, to Hurakia, and to Horohoro, the districts which
lie between Lakes Taupo and Roto-rua, and between Roto-rua and
the head of the Waikato River, to snare birds for themselves,
and followed their sport for many a day, until they had hunted
for several months; but their little brother Hatupatu was all
this time thinking to himself that they never gave him any of
the rare dainties or nice things that they got, so that they
might all feast together, but at each meal he received nothing
but lean tough birds; so when the poor little fellow went and
sat down by the side of the fire to his food, he every day used
to keep on crying and eating, crying and eating, during his meals.
At last, saucy, mischievous thoughts rose up in his young heart.
So one day, whilst his brothers were out snaring birds, and he,
on this as on every other day, was left at their resting-place
to take care of the things, the little rogue crept into the storehouse,
where the birds, preserved in their own fat, were kept in calabashes,
and he stole some, and set resolutely to work to eat them, with
some tender fern-root, nicely beaten and dressed, for a relish;
so that to look at him you could not help thinking of the proverb:
'Bravo, that throat of yours can swallow anything.'
He finished all the calabashes of preserved birds, and then
attacked those that were kept in casks, and when he had quite
filled himself he crept out of the storehouse again, and there
he went trampling over the pathway that led to their resting-place,
running about this side, and that side, and all round it, that
his brothers might be induced to think a war party had come,
and had eaten up the food in their absence. Then he came back,
and ran a spear into himself in two or three places, where he
could not do himself much harm, and gave himself a good bruise
or two upon his bead, and laid down on the ground near their
hut.
When his brothers came back they found him lying there in
appearance very badly wounded; they next ran to the storehouse,
and found their preserved birds all gone: so they asked him who
had done afl this, and he replied: 'A war party.' Then they went
to the pathways and saw the foot-marks, and said: 'It is too
true.' They melted some fat, and poured warm oil on his wounds,
and he revived; and they all ate as they used to do in former
days, the brothers enjoying all the good things, whilst Hatupatu
kept eating and crying, and he went and sat on the smoky side
of the fire, so that his cruel brothers might laugh at him, saying:
'Oh, never mind him; those are not real tears, they are only
his eyes watering from the smoke.'
Next day Hatupatu stopped at home, and off went his brothers
to snare birds, and he began to steal the preserved birds again,
and thus he did every day, every day, and of course at last his
brothers suspected him, and one day they laid in wait for him,
when he not foreseeing this, again crouched into the storehouse
and began eating, 'Ha, ha, ha, we've caught you now then; your
thievish tricks are found out, are they, you little rogue? His
brothers killed him at once, and buried him in the large heap
of feathers they had pulled out from the snared birds; after
this they went back to Roto-rua, and when they arrived their
parents asked them: 'Where is Hatupatu? What's become of your
little brother? And they answered: 'We don't know; we have not
seen him.' And their parents said: 'You've killed him.' And they
replied: 'We have not'; and they disputed and disputed together,
and at last their parents said: 'It is too true that you must
have killed him, for he went away with you, and he is missing
now when you return to us.'
At length Hatupatu's father and mother thought they would
send a spirit to search for him; so they sent one, and the spirit
went. Its form was that of a flag, and its name was Tamumuki-te-rangi,
or He-that-buzzes-in-the-skies, and it departed and arrived at
the place where Hatupatu was buried, and found him and performed
enchantments, and Hatupatu came to life again, and went upon
his way, and met a woman who was spearing birds for herself,
and her spear was nothing but her own lips: and Hatupatu had
a real wooden spear. The woman speared at a bird with her lips,
but Hatupatu had at the same moment thrown his spear at the same
bird, and it stuck into her lips: and when he saw this he ran
off with all his speed, but he was soon caught by the woman,
not being able to go so fast as she could, for her feet bore
her along, and wings were upon her arms, like those of a bird,
and she brought him to her house, and they slept there.
Hatupatu found that this woman never ate anything but raw
food, and she gave the birds to Hatupatu to eat without their
being in any way dressed, but he only pretended to eat them,
liftlug them up to his mouth, and letting them fall slily. At
dawn the woman prepared to go and spear birds, but Hatupatu always
remained at home, and when she had departed, he began to cook
food for himself, and to look at all the things in the cave of
rocks that the woman lived in-at her two-handed wooden sword,
at her beautiful cloak made of red feathers torn from under the
wing of the kaka, at her red cloak of thick dog's fur,
at her ornamented cloak woven from flax; and he kept thinking
how he could run off with them all: and then he looked at the
various tame lizards she had, and at her tame little birds, and
at all her many curiosities, and thus he went on day after day,
until at last one day he said to her: 'Now, you'd better go a
long distance to-day; to the first mountain range, to the second
range, the tenth range, the hundredth range, the thousandth mountain
range, and when you get there, then begin to catch birds for
us two.' To this she consented, and went. He remained behind
roasting birds for himself, and thinking: 'I wonder how far she's
got now'; and when he thought she had reached the place he had
spoken of, then be began to gather up her cloak of red feathers,
and her cloak of dogs' skins, and her cloak of ornamented flax,
and her carved two-handed sword; and the young fellow said: 'How
well I shall look when all the fine feathers on these cloaks
are rustled by the wind.' And he brandished the two-handed sword,
and made cuts at the lizards, and at all the tame animals, and
they were soon killed. Then he struck at the perch on which the
little pet birds sat, and he killed them all but one, which escaped,
and it flew away to fetch back the woman they all belonged to.
Her name was Kurangaituku. And as the little bird flew along,
these are the words he kept singing: 'Oh, Kurangaituku, our home
is ruined, our things are all destroyed'; and so it kept singing
until it had flown a very long way. At last Kurangaituku heard
it, and said: 'By whom is all this done? And the little bird
answered: 'By Hatupatueverything is gone.' Then Kurangaituku
made haste to get home again, and as she went along she kept
calling out: 'Step out, stretch along; step out, stretch along.
There you are, O Hatupatu, not far from me. Step out, stretch
along; step out, stretch along. There you are, O Hatupatu, not
far from me now.'
She only made three strides before she had reached her cave,
and when she looked about, she could see nothing in it; but the
little bird still guided her on, as she kept saying: 'Step out,
stretch along; step out, stretch along; I'll catch you there
now, Hatupatu; I'll catch you there now, Hatupatu'; and she almost
caught Hatupatu; and he thought, I'm done for now. So he repeated
his charm: 'O rock, open for me, open.' Then the rock opened,
and he hid himself in it, and the woman looked and could not
find him; and she went on to a distance, and kept calling out:
'I'll catch you there, Hatupatu'; and when her voice had died
away at a great distance, Hatupatu came up out of the rock and
made off; and thus they went on, and thus they went on, the whole
way, until they came to Roto-rua; and when they arrived at the
sulphur-springs (called Te Whakarewa-rewa), Hatupatu jumped over
these; but Kurangaituku thinking they were cold, tried to wade
through, but sank through the crust, and was burnt to death.
Hatupatu proceeded on and sat on the shore of the lake, and
when the evening came, he dived into the water, and rose up at
the island of Mokoia, and sat in the warm-bath there; just at
this time his father and mother wanted some water to drink, and
sent their slave to fetch some for them, and he came to the place
where he found Hatupatu lying in the warm- bath; Hatupatu laid
hold of him, and asked him: 'Whom are you fetching that water
for at this time of night? and he answered, 'For so and so.'
Then Hatupatu asked him: 'Where is the house of Ha-nui and of
Ha-roa?'-and the slave answered: 'They live in a house by themselves;
but what can your name be?'-and be answered him: 'I am Hatupatu.'
So the old slave said: 'O Hatupatu, are you still alive?'-and
he replied: 'Yes, indeed.' And the old slave said to him: 'Oh,
I'll tell you; I and your father and mother live together in
a house by ourselves; and they sent me down here to fetch water
for them'; and Hatupatu said: 'Let us go to them together'; and
they went: and on coming to them, the old people began to weep
with a loud voice; and Hatupatu said: 'Nay, nay; let us cry with
a gentle voice, lest my brethren who slew me should hear; and
I, moreover, will not sleep here with you, my parents, it is
better for me to go and remain in the cave you have dug to keep
your sweet potatoes in, that I may overhear each day what they
say, and I'll take all my meals there.' So he went, and he said:
'Let my father sleep with me in the cave in the night, and in
the daytime let him stop in the house'; and his father consented,
and thus they did every day and every night, and his brothers
noticed that there was a change in their food, that they did
not get so much or such good food as whilst their brother had
been away (for his mother kept the best of everything for him);
they had worse food now; so they beat their mother and their
slaves, and this they did continually.
At last, they heard the people all calling out: 'Oh, oh, Hatupatu's
here'; and one of them said: 'Oh, no, that can't be; why, Hatupatu
is dead'; but when they saw it was really he, one of them caught
hold of his two-handed wooden sword, and so did the others; and
Hatupatu also caught hold of his two-handed wooden sword; he
had decorated his head in the night, and had stuck it full of
the beautiful feathers befitting a chief; and he had placed a
bunch of the soft white down from the breast of the albatross
in each ear; and when his brothers and the multitude of their
followers dared him to come forth from the storehouse and fight
them, he caught hold of his girdle and of his apron of red feathers,
and girding on his apron he repeated an incantation suited for
the occasion. When this was finished his head appeared rising
up out of the storehouse, and he repeated another incantation,
and afterwards a third over his sword.
Hatupatu now came out of the storehouse, and as his brothers
gazed on him, they saw his looks were most noble; glared forth
on them the eyes of the young man, and glittered forth the mother-of-pearl
eyes of the carved face on the handle of his sword, and when
the many thousands of their tribe who had gathered round saw
the youth, they too were quite astonished at his nobleness; they
had no strength left, they could do nothing but admire him: he
was only a little boy when they bad seen him before, and now,
when they met him again, he was like a noble chief, and they
now looked upon his brothers with very different eyes from those
with which they looked at him.
His three brothers sprang at him; three wooden swords were
at the same time levelled at Hatupatu to slay him; be held the
blade of his sword pointed to the ground, till the swords of
his brothers almost touched him, when he rapidly warded off the
blows, and whirling round his wooden sword, two of the three
were felled by the blade of it, and one by a blow from the handle;
then they sprang up, and rushed at him once more; over they go
again, two felled by the blade of his sword, and one by the handle;
it was enough-they gave in. Then their father said to them: 'Oh!
my sons, I would that you were as strong in peace as you are
in attacking one another; in seeking revenge for your ancestral
canoe, Te Arawa, which was consumed in a fire by the chief Raumati.
Long have you been seeking to revenge yourselves upon him, but
you have not succeeded, you have gained no advantage; perhaps
you are only strong and bold when you attack your young brother,
my last-born child.'
When his sons Ha-nui, Ha-roa, and Karika heard these words
of their father, they and their many followers felt their hearts
grow sad; they began to prepare for a war party, by beating flat
pieces of prepared fern-root; and they cooked sweet potatoes
in ovens, and mashed them, and packed them up in baskets of flax,
and again put them in the ovens, that the food might keep for
a long time; and they cooked shell-fish in baskets, and thus
collected food for an expedition to Maketu. Whilst his brothers
were making all these preparations for the expedition, their
father was secretly teaching Hatupatu the tattoo marks and appearance
of Raumati, so that he might easily recognize that chief; and
when the canoes started with the warriors, he did not embark
with them, but remained behind; the canoes had reached the middle
of the lake, when Hatupatu rose up, and taking thirty cloaks
of red feathers with him, went off to the war; he proceeded by
diving under the water-that was the path he chose; and when he
reached the deepest part of the lake, he stopped to eat a meal
of mussels in the water, and then rose up from the bottom and
came out. He had got as far as Ngau-kawakawa, when his brothers
and the warriors in the canoes arrived there, and found him spreading
out the cloaks he had brought with him to dry; and as soon as
their canoes reached the shore they asked him: 'Where is your
canoe, that you managed to get here so fast?'and he answered:
'Never mind, I have a canoe of my own.'
Hatupatu. threw off here the wreath of leaves he wore round
his brow, and it took root, and became a pohutukawa, which
bears such beautiful red flowers. His brothers' canoes had by
this time got out into Roto-iti; then he again dived after them,
and rose to the surface, and came out of the water at Kuha-rua,
where he threw off his wreath of totara leaves, and it
took root and grew, and it is still growing there at this day;
when his brothers and the warriors arrived at Kuba-rua, they
found him sitting there, and they were astonished at his doings;
they landed at Otaramarae, and marching overland, encamped for
the night at Kakaroa-a-Tauhu, and the next day they reached Maketu;
and when the evening came they ranged their warriors in divisions;
three hundred and forty warriors were told off for each of the
divisions, under the command of each of Hatupatu's three brothers;
but no division was placed under his command.
Hatupatu knew that the jealousy of his brothers, on account
of their former quarrels, was the reason they had not told off
any men for him; so he said: 'Oh, my brothers, I did not refuse
to hearken to you, when you asked me to come with you; but I
came, upon that occasion when you killed me, and here I am now
left in a very bad position; so I pray you, let some of the warriors
be placed under my command, let there be fifty of thern.' But
they said to him: 'Pooh, pooh; come now, you be off home again.
What can you do? The only thing you are fit to destroy is food.'
He, the young man, said no more; but at once left his brothers,
and on the same night he sought out a rough thicket as his resting-place;
and when he saw how convenient for his purpose was the place
he had selected, he turned to and began to tie together in bundles
the roots of the creeping plants, and of the bushes, and dressed
them up with the cloaks he had with him; and when he had finished,
the war band of these figures, which the young man had made,
looked just like a band of real warriors. The day had hardly
dawned, when the inhabitants of the place they had come to attack
saw their enemies, and sent off messengers to tell the warriors,
on this side and that side, that they should come and fight with
them against the common enemy.
In the meantime, all the warriors of the columns of Hatupatu's
brothers were exhorting their men, and encouraging them by warlike
speeches; first one chief stood up to speak, and then another,
and when they had all ended, Hatupatu himself got up, to encourage
his mock party. He had been sitting down, and as he gracefully
arose, it was beautiful to see his plumes and ornaments of feathers
fluttering in the breeze; the long hair of the young man was
tied up in four knots, or clubs, in each of which was stuck a
bunch of feathers; you would have thought he had just come from
the gannet island of Karewa (in the Bay of Plenty), where birds'
feathers abound; and when he had done speaking to one party of
his column, he unloosened his hair, leaving but one clump of
it over the centre of his forehead, and now he wore a cloak of
red feathers; then he made another speech, encouraging his men
to be brave; then after sitting down again, he ran to the rear,
and took all the feathers and knots from his hair, and he this
time wore a cloak of flax with a broidered border; again he addressed
his men, and this being finished, he was seen again in the centre
of the body, standing up to speak, naked, and stripped for the
fight. Once more he appeared at the head of the column; this
time he had the hair at the back of his head tied up in a knot
and ornamented with feathers, he wore a cloak made of the skins
of dogs, and the long wooden war-axe was the weapon he had in
his hands. Having concluded this speech, he appeared again in
a different place, with his hair tied in five bunches, each ornamented
with feathers, whilst a large rough dog-skin formed his cloak;
and the weapon in his hand was a patu paraoa made of white
whalebone: thus he ended his speeches to his party. When the
people of the place they had come to attack saw how numerous
were the chiefs in the column of Hatupatu, and what clothes and
weapons they had, they dreaded his division much more than those
of his brothers.
His brothers' divisions had many warriors in them, although
the number of chiefs was only equal in number to the divisions;
thus there were three divisions, and also three chiefs; wbilst,
although Hatupatu had only one division, it appeared to be commanded
by a multitude of chiefs, who had superb dresses; thence the
enemy burnt with fear of that division, which they accounted
to be composed of men; but no; it was only formed of clumps of
grass dressed up.
Now the people of the place they were attacking drew out to
the battle, and as they pressed nearer and nearer, they pushed
forth long heavy spears, and sent forth volleys of light spears
made of the branches of manuka, at the colunm of Ha-nui. Alas!
it is broken; they retreat, they fly, they fall back on the division
of Ha-roa; they are here rallied, and ordered to charge; but
they do not-they only poke forward their heads, as if intending
to go; the enemy has reached them, and is on theirt again; they
are again broken and disordered; they run in now upon the third
line, that of Karika; they are rallied, and again ordered to
charge; but they only press forward the upper part of their bodies,
as if intending to advance, when the enemy is already upon them
in full charge. It is over; all the divisions of Hatupatu's brothers
are broken and flying in confusion; what did it matter whether
they were many or few, they were all cowards. Their enemies saw
no brave men's faces, only the black backs of heads running away.
All this time the division of Hatupatu appears to be sitting
quietly upon the ground, and when the men in full retreat came
running in upon it, Hatupatu rose up to order them to charge
again. He cried out: 'Turn on them again, turn on them again';
for a long time the enemy and Hatupatu. were hidden from each
other's view; at last they saw him. Then rushes forward Hatupatu
from one party, and a chief of the enemy, named also Karika (like
his brother), from the other, and the latter aims a fierce blow
at Hatupatu with a short spear; he parries it, and strikes down
Karika with his two-handed sword, who dies without a struggle;
motionless, as food hidden in a bag, he draws forth his whalebone
patu, cuts off Karika's head, and grasps it by the hair.
It is enoughthe enemy breakfall backfly; then
his brothers and their warriors turn again on the foes, and slay
them; many thousands of them fall. Whilst his brothers are thus
slaying the enemy, he is eagerly seeking for Raumati; he is found;
Hatupatu catches him, his head is cut off; it is concealed. The
slaughter being ended, they return to their encampment; they
cook the bodies of their enemies; they devour them; they smoke
and carefully preserve their heads: and when all is done, each
makes speeches boasting of his deeds; and one after the other,
vaunting to have slain the great chief Raumati. But Hatupatu
said not a word of his having Raumati's head.
They return to Roto-rua; this time he goes in the canoe with
them; they draw near to the island of Mokoia, and his brothers,
as they are in the canoe, chant songs of triumph to the gods
of war; they cease; their father inquires from the shore: 'Which
of you has the head of Raumati?'and one, holding up the
head he had taken, said: 'I have'; and another said: 'I have';
at last, their father calls out: 'Alas, alas! Raumati has escaped.'
Then Hatupatu stands up in the canoe, and chants a prayer
to the god of war over a basket heaped up with heads, wbilst
holding up in his hand the head of Karika.
Then his hand grasps the head of Raumati, which he had kept
hid under his cloak, and he cries: 'There, there; I have the
head of Raumati.' All rejoice. Their father strips off his cloak,
rushes into the lake, and repeats a thanksgiving to the gods.
When he had ended this, he promoted in honour his last-born
child, and debased in rank his eldest sons.
Thus at last was revenge obtained for the burning of the Arawa,
and the descendants of Tama-te-kapua emigrated, and came and
dwelt in Pa-kotore, and Rangitihi was born there, and his children,
and one of them came to Rangi-whakakapua, or Rotorua, and dwelt
there; and afterwards one of his daughters went to the Whakatohea
tribe, at Opotiki. After that Rangitihi and all his sons went
to Ahuriri, to revenge the death of the husband of Rongo-mai-papa,
and she was given up to them as a reward; then grew up to manhood
Uenuku-kopako, and began to visit all the people subject to him
at Whakamaru, at Maroa, at Tutukau, at Tuata, and he went and
afterwards returned to Pa-kotore, and whilst going backwards
and forwards, he lost his dog, named Potaka-tawhiti, at Mokoia;
it was killed by Mata-aho and Kawa-arero.
He came back from Whakamaru to look for it, and when he found
it had been killed, a great war was commenced against Roto-rua,
and some were slain of each party. After this, Rangite-aorere,
the son of Rangi-whaka-eke-au, grew up to man's estate; in his
time they stormed and took the island of Mokoia, and Roto-rua
was conquered by the son of Rangitihi, who kept it still and
still, until the multitude of men there increased very greatly,
and spread themselves in all parts; and the descendants of Ngatoro-i-rangi
also multiplied there, and some of them still remain at Roto-rua.
Tumakoha begat Tarawhai, and Te Rangitakaroro, was one of his
sons; his second son was Tarewa, and his third was Taporahitaua.
The Emigration of Turi
THE following narrative shows the cause
which led Turi, the ancestor of the Whanganui tribes, to emigrate
to New Zealand, and the manner in which he reached these islands.
Hoi-matua, a near relation of Turi, had a little boy named
Potiki-roroa; this young fellow was sent one day with a message
to Uenuku, who was an ariki, or chief high-priest, to
let him know that a burnt-offering had been made to the gods,
of which Uenuku, as ariki, was to eat part, and the little
fellow accidentally tripped and fell down in the very doorway
of Whare-kura, the house of Uenuku, and this being a most unlucky
omen, Uenuku was dreadfully irritated, and he laid hold of the
little fellow, and ate him up, without even having the body cooked,
and so the poor boy perished.
Turi was determined to have revenge for this barbarous act,
and to slay some person as a payment for little Potiki-roroa,
and, after casting about in his thoughts for some time as to
the most effectual mode of doing this, he saw that his best way
of revenging himself would be to seize Hawe-potiki, the little
son of Uenuku, and kill him.
One day Turi, in order to entice the boy to his house, ordered
the children of all the people who dwelt there with him to begin
playing together, in a place where Hawe-potiki could see them;
so they began whipping their tops, and whirling their whiz-gigs,
but it was of no use; the little fellow could not be tempted
to come and play with them, and that plan failed.
At last summer came with its heats, scorching men's skins;
and Turi, one very hot day, ordered all the little children to
run and bathe in the river Wai-matuhi-rangi; so they all ran
to the river and began sporting and playing in the water. When
little Hawe-potiki saw all the other lads swimming and playing
in the river, he was thrown off his guard and ran there too,
and Turi waylaid him, and killed him in a moment, and thus revenged
the death of Potiki-roroa.
After killing the poor boy, Turi cut the heart out of his
body, which was eaten by himself and his friends; but when, shortly
afterwards, a chieftainess, named Hotu-kura, sent up a present
of baskets of food to their sacred prince, to Uenuku, carried
in the usual way by a long procession of people, some of Turl's
friends pushed into the basket of baked sweet potatoes prepared
for Uenuku the heart of Hawe-potiki, cut up and baked too, and
so it was carried up to Uenuku in the basket, and laid before
him, that he might eat it.
Uenuku, who had missed his little boy, being still unable
to ascertain what had become of him, could not help sighing when
he saw such an excellent feast, and said: 'Poor little Hawe-potiki,
how he would have liked this, but he now no longer comes running
to sit by my side at mealtime'; and then he himself ate the food
that was laid before him. He had hardly, however, ended his meal,
when one of his friends, who had found what had been done, came
and told him, saying: 'They have made you eat a part of Hawe-potiki.'
And he answered: 'Very well, let it be; he lies in the belly
of Toi-te-huatahi'; meaning by this proverb that he would have
a fearful revenge; but he showed no other signs of feeling, that
he might not gratify his enemies by manifesting his sorrow, or
alarm them by loud threats of revenge.
At this time Turi was living in a house, the name of which
was Rangi-atea, and there were born two of his children, Turanga-i-mua
and Tane-roroa. One evening, shortly after the death of Hawe-potiki,
Rongo-rongo, Turi's wife, went out of the house to suckle her
little girl, Tane-roroa, and she heard Uenuku in his house, named
Whare-kura, chanting a poem, of which this was the burden:
'Oh! let the tribes be summoned from the south,
Oh! let the tribes be summoned from the north;
Let Ngati-Ruanui come in force;
Let Ngati-Rongotea's warriors too be there,
That we may all our foes destroy,
And sweep them utterly away.
Oh, they ate one far nobler than themselves.'
When Rongo-rongo heard what Uenuku was chanting, she went
back to her house, and said to her husband: 'Turi, I have just
heard them chanting this poem in Whare-kura.' And Turi answered:
'What poem do you say, it was? Then she hummed it gently over
to her husband, and Turi at once divined the meaning of it,[1]
and said to his wife: 'That poem is meant for me';
[1. The discovery of a plot by guessing the meaning of a song
which persons were overhead singing was a common circumstance
with all the races and throughout all the islands of the Pacific;
for instance, in Pitcairn's Island, when first occupied by part
of the crew of The Bounty and some Tahitian men and women, we
find:
'Brown and Christian were very intimate, and their two wives
overhead one night Williams's second wife sing a song. Why
should the Tahitian men sharpen their axes to cut off the Englishmen's
heads? The wives of Brown and Christian told their husbands
what Williams's second wife had been singing; when Christian
heard of it, he went by himself with his gun to the house where
all the Tahitian men were assembled; he pointed his gun at them,
but it missed fire. Two of the natives ran away into the bush.'Pitcairn's
island and the Islander.]
and he knew this well, because, as he had killed the child
of Uenuku, he guessed that they meant to slay him as a payment
for the boy, and that the lament his wife had heard evinced that
they were secretly laying their plans of revenge.
He, therefore, at once started off to his father-in-law, Toto,
to get a canoe from him, in which he might escape from his enemies;
and Toto gave him one, the name of which was Ao-tea; the tree
from which it had been made grew upon the banks of the Lake Wai-harakeke.
Toto had first hewn down the tree, and then split it, breaking
it lengthways into two parts; out of one part of the tree he
made a canoe, which he named Matahorua, and out of the other
part he made a canoe which he named Ao-tea. He gave the canoe
which he had named Mataliorua to Kura-maro-tini; and the canoe
which he had named Ao-tea he made a present of to Rongo-rongo;
thus giving a canoe to each of his two daughters. Matahorua was
the canoe in which a large part of the world was explored, and
Reti was the name of the man who navigated it.
One day Kupe and Hoturapa went out upon the sea to fish together,
and when they had anchored the canoe at a convenient place, Kupe
let down his line into the sea; and he said to his cousin, Hoturapa:
'Hotu', my line is foul of something; do you, like a good young
fellow, dive down and release it for me'; but Hoturapa said:
'Just give me your line, and let me see if 1 cannot pull it up
for you.' But Kupe answered: 'It's of no use, you cannot do it;
you had better give a plunge in at once, and pull it up.' This
was a mere stratagem upon the part of Kupe, that he might obtain
possession of Kura-maro-tini, who was Hoturapa's wife; however,
Hoturapa not suspecting this, good-naturedly dived down at once
to bring up Kupe's line; and as soon as he had made his plunge,
Kupe at once cut the rope which was attached to the anchor, and
paddled off for the shore as fast as he could go, to carry off
Hoturapa's wife, Kura-maro-tini. When Hoturapa came up to the
surface of the water, the canoe was already a long distance from
him, and he cried out to Kupe: 'Oh, Kupe, bring the canoe back
here to take me in.' But Kupe would not listen to him, he brought
not back the canoe, and so Hoturapa perished. Kupe then made
haste, and carried off Kura-maro-tmi, and to escape from the
vengeance of the relations of Hoturapa, he fled away with her,
on the ocean, in her canoe Matahorua, and discovered the islands
of New Zealand, and coasted entirely round them, without finding
any inhabitants.
As Kupe was proceeding down the cast coast of New Zealand,
and had reached Castle Point, a great cuttle-fish, alarmed at
the sight of a canoe With men in it, fled away from a large cavern
which exists in the south headland of the cove there; it fled
before Kupe, in the direction of Raukawa, or Cook's Straits;
when Kupe arrived at those straits, he crossed them in his canoe,
to examine the middle islands; seeing the entrance of Awa-iti
(now called Tory Channel), running deep up into the land, he
turned his canoe in there to explore it; he found a very strong
current coming out from between the lands, and named the entrance
Kura-te-au; strong as the current was, Kupe stemmed it in his
canoe, and ascended it, until he was just surmounting the crown
of the rapid. The great cuttle-fish, Muturangi, that had fled
from Castle Point, which Kupe named Te Wheke-a-Muturangi, or
the cuttle-fish of Muturangi, had fled to Tory Channel, and was
lying bid in this part of the current. The monster heard the
canoe of Kupe approaching as they were pulling up the current,
and raised its arms above the waters to catch and devour the
canoe, men and all. As it thus floated upon the water, Kupe saw
it, and pondered how he might destroy the terrible monster. At
last he thought of a plan for doing this; he had already found
that, although he kept on chopping off portions of its gigantic
arms, furnished with suckers, as it tried to fold them about
the canoe, in order to pull it down, the monster was too fierce
to care for this; so Kupe seized an immense hollow calabash he
had on board to carry his water in, and threw it overboard; hardly
had it touched the water ere the monster flew at it, thinking
that it was the canoe of Kupe, and that he would destroy it;
so it reared its whole body out of the water, to press down the
huge calabash under it, and Kupe, as he stood in his canoe, being
in a most excellent position to cut it with his axe, seized the
opportunity, and, striking it a tremendous blow, he severed it
in two, and killed it.[1]
The labours of Kupe consisted in this, that he discovered
these islands, and examined the different openings which he found
running up into the country. He only found two inhabitants in
the country, a bird which he named the kokako, and another
bird which he named the tiwaiwaka; he, however, did not
ultimately remain in these islands, but returned to his own house,
leaving the openings he had examined in the country as signs
that he had been here.
Thus he left his marks here, but he himself returned to his
own country, where he found Turi and all his people still dwelling;
although it was now the fourth year from that one in which he
had slain little Hawe-potiki; but Turi was then on the point
of flying to escape from the vengeance of Uenuku, and as he heard
of the discoveries Kupe had made, he determined to come to these
islands. So he bad his canoe, the Ao-tea, dragged down to the
shore in the night, and Kupe, who happened to be near
[1. They show several spots upon the east coast where Kupe
touched with his canoes; but I have not yet had time to arrange
and transcribe the various traditions connected with his landing
at those places.G. G.]
the place, and heard the bottom of the canoe grating upon
the beach as they hauled it along, went to see what was going
on; and when he found what Turi was about to do, he said to him:
'Now, mind, Turi, keep ever steering to the eastward, where the
sun rises; keep the bow of your canoe ever steadily directed
towards that point of the sky.' Turi answered him: 'You had better
accompany me, Kupe. Come, let us go together.' And when Kupe
heard this, he said to Turi: 'Do you think that Kupe will ever
return there again?'and he then continued: 'When you arrive
at the islands, you had better go at once and examine the river
that I discovered [said to be the Patea]; its mouth opens direct
to the westward; you will fmd but two inhabitants there [meaning
the kokako and tiwaiwaka]; one of them carries
its tail erect and sticking out; now do not mistake the voice
of one of them for that of a man, for it calls out just like
one; and if you stand on one side of the river, and call out
to them, you will hear their cries answering you from the other.
That will be the very spot that I mentioned to you.'[1]
Turi's brother-in-law, Tuau, now called out to him: , why,
Turi, the paddles you are taking with you are good for nothing,
for they are made from the huhoe-tree'; Turi replied: 'Wherever
can I get other paddles now?'and Tuau answered: 'Just wait
a little, until I run for the paddles of Taiparaeroa'; and he
brought back, and put on board the canoe, two paddles, the names
of which were Rangi-horona and Kautu-ki-te-rangi, and two bailers,
the names of which were Tipua-horo-nuku and Rangika-wheriko.
Then Turi said: 'Tuau, come out a little way to sea with me,
and then return again, when you have seen me fairly started upon
my long voyage.' To this Tuau cheerfully
[1. It will be seen that they did not follow Kupe's directions,
thinking that he was deceiving them, he being probably friendly
to Uenuku.]
consented, and got into the canoe, which was already afloat;
then were carried on board all the articles which the voyagers
were to take; and their friends put on board for them seed, sweet
potatoes, of the species called kakau, and dried stones
of the berries of the karaka; and some five edible rats
in boxes, and some tame green parrots; and added some pet pukeko,
or large waterhens; and many other valuable things were put on
board the canoe, whence the proverb: 'Ao-tea of the valuable
cargo.'
At last away floated the canoe, whilst it was yet night, and
Tuau sat at the stem, gently paddling as they dropped out from
the harbour; but when they got to its mouth, Turi called out
to his brother-in-law: 'Tuau, you come and sit for a little at
the house amidships, on the floor of the double canoe, and let
me take the paddle and pull till I warm myself.' So Tuau came
amidships, and sat down with the people there, whilst Turi went
astern and took his paddle. Then Turi and his people pulled as
hard as they could, and were soon far outside the harbour, in
the wide sea, Tuau, who had intended to land at the heads, at
last turned to see what distance they had got. Alas! alas! they
were far out at sea; then he called out to Turi: 'Oh, Turi, Turi,
pray turn back the canoe and land me.' But not the least attention
did Turi pay to him; he persisted in carrying off his brother-in-law
with him, although there was Tuau weeping and grieving when he
thought of his children and wife, and lamenting as he exclaimed:
'How shall I ever get back to my dear wife and children from
the place where you are going to!' But what does Turi care for
that; he still thinks fit to carry him off with him, and Tuau
cannot now help himself. They were now so far out at sea that
he could not gain the shore, for he could scarcely have seen
where the land was whilst swimming in the water, as it was during
the night-time that they started.
Lo! the dawn breaks; but hardly had the daylight of the first
morning of their voyage appeared, than one of the party, named
Tapo, became insolent and disobedient to Turi. His chief was
therefore very wroth with him, and hove him overboard into the
sea; and when Tapo found himself in the water, and saw the canoe
shooting ahead, he called out to Turi quite cheerfully and jocosely:
'I say, old fellow, come now, let me live in the world a little
longer'; and when they heard him call out in this manner, they
knew he must be under the protection of the god Maru, and said:
'Here is Maru, here is Maru.' So they hauled him into the canoe
again, and saved his life.
At last the seams of Turi's canoe opened in holes in many
places, and the water streamed into it, and they rapidly dipped
the bailers into the water and dashed it out over the sides;
Turi, in the meanwhile, reciting aloud an incantation, which
was efficacious in preventing a canoe from being swamped; they
succeeded at length, by these means, in reaching a small island
which lies in mid-ocean, which they named Rangitahua; there they
landed, and ripped all the old lashings out of the seams of the
canoe, and re-lashed the top sides on to it, and thoroughly refitted
it.
Amongst the chiefs who landed there with them was one named
Potoru, whose canoe was called Te Ririno. They were carrying
some dogs with them, as these would be very valuable in the islands
they were going to, for supplying by their increase a good article
of food, and skins for warm cloaks; on this island, they, however,
killed two of them, the names of which were Whakapapa-tua-kura
and Tanga-kakariki; the first of these they cooked and shared
amongst them, but the second they cut up raw as an offering for
the gods, and laid it cut open in every part before them, and
built a sacred place, and set up pillars for the spirits, that
they might entirely consume the sacrifice; and they took the
enchanted apron of the spirits, and spread it open before them,
and wearied the spirits by calling on them for some omen, saying:
'Come, manifest yourselves to us, O gods; make haste and declare
the future to us. It may be now, that we shall not succeed in
passing to the other side of the ocean; but if you manifest yourselves
to us, and are present with us, we shall pass there in safety.'
Then they rose up from prayer, and roasted with fire the dog
which they were offering as a sacrifice, and holding the sacrifice
aloft, called over the names of the spirits to whom the offering
was made; and having thus appeased the wrath of the offended
spirits, they again stuck up posts for them, saying as they did
so:
Thus they removed all ill-luck from the canoes, by repeating
over them prayers called Keuenga, Takanga, Whaka-mumumanga, etc.,
etc.
When all these ceremonies were ended, a very angry discussion
arose between Potoru and Turi, as to the direction they should
now sail in; Turi persisted in wishing to pursue an easterly
course, saying: 'Nay, nay, let us still sail towards the quarter
where the sun first flares up'; but Potoru answered him: 'But
I say nay, nay, let us proceed towards that quarter of the heavens
in which the sun sets.' Turi replied: 'Why, did not Kupe, who
had visited these islands, particularly tell us? Now mind, let
nothing induce you to turn the prow of the canoe away from that
quarter of the heavens in which the sun rises.' However, Potoru
still persisted in his opinion, and at last Turi gave up the
point, and let him have his own way; so they embarked and left
the island of Rangitahua, and sailed on a westerly course.
Afier they had pursued this course for some time, the canoe
Ririno getting into the surf, near some rocks, was lost on a
reef which they named Taputapu-a-tea, being swept away by a strong
current, a rapid current, by a swifi-running current, swiftly
running on to the realms of death; and the Ririno was dashed
to pieces: hence to the present day is preserved this proverb:
'You are as obstinate as Potoru, who persisted in rushing on
to his own destruction.'
When the Ririno had thus been lost, Turi, in the Ao-tea, pursued
his course towards the quarter of the rising sun, and whilst
they were yet in mid-ocean, a child, whom he named Tutawa, was
born to Turi; they had then but nine sweet potatoes left, and
Turi took one of these, leaving now but eight, and he offered
the one he took as a sacrifice to the spirits, and touched with
it the palate of little Tutawa, born in rnid-ocean, at the same
time repeating the fitting prayers. When they drew near the shore
of these islands, one of the crew, named Tuanui-a-te-ra, was
very disobedient and insolent to Turi, who, getting exceedingly
provoked with him, threw him overboard into the sea. When they
had got near enough to the shore to see distinctly, they foolishly
threw the red plumes they wore on their heads into the sea, these
being old, dirty, and faded, from length of wear, for they thought,
although wrongly, the red things they saw in such abundance on
the shore were similar ornaments.
At length the Ao-tea is run up on the beach of these islands,
and the wearied voyagers spring out of her on to the sands, and
the first thing they remark are the footprints of a man; they
run to examine them , and find them to be those of Tuanui-a-te-ra,
whom Turi had shortly before thrown overboard; there can be no
doubt of this, because some of the footprints are crooked, exactly
suiting a deformed foot which he had.
Turi having rested after his voyage, determined to start and
seek for the river Patea, which Kupe had described to him, and
he left his canoe Ao-tea in the harbour, which he named after
it. He travelled along the coast-line from Ao-tea to Patea, having
sent one party before him, under Pungarehu, ordering them to
plant the stones of the berries of the karaka, which they
had brought with them, all along their route, in order that so
valuable an article of food might be introduced into these islands.
Turi, who followed with another party after Pungarehu, gave names
to all the places as they came along; when he reached the harbour
of Kawhia, he gave it that name or the awhinga of Turi;
then he came to Marokopa, or the place that Turi wound round
to another spot; the river Waitara he named from the taranga,
or wide steps which he took in fording it at its mouth; Mokau,
or Moekau, he named from his sleeping there; at Manga-ti, they
opened and spread out an enchanted garment named Huna-kiko, and
as all. the people gazed at it, Turi named the place Mataki-taki;
at another place (near the lake at the Gray institution at Taranaki),
Turi took up a handful of earth to smell it, that he might guess
whether the soil was good enough, and he named that place Hongihongi;
another place, six miles to the south of Taranaki, he named Tapuwae,
or the footsteps of Turi; another place lie named Oakura, from
the bright redness of the enchanted cloak Hunakiko; another place
Katikara, twelve miles south of Taranaki; another river he named
Raoa, from a piece of food he was eating nearly choking him there;
another spot he named Kaupoko-nui (a river thirty-four miles
north-west of Patea), or the head of Turi; when they arrived
there, the enchanted cloak Huna-kiko was twice opened and spread
out, so he called the spot Marae-kura; a place that they encamped
at he named Ka-puni (a river at Waimate), or the encampment of
Turi; another place he called Wai-ngongoro, or the place at which
Turi snored; another spot he named Tanga-hoe, after his paddle;
O-hinga-hape, he named after the crooked foot of Tuanui-a-te-ra;
a headland where there was a natural bridge running over a cave,
he named Whitikau, from the long time he was fording in the water
to turn the headland, because he did not like to cross the bridge
(this is five miles north of Patea).
At length he reached the river which Kupe had described to
him; there he built a pa, or fortress, which he named
Rangitawhi, and there he erected a post which he named Whakatopea,
and he built a house which he named Matangirei, and he laid down
a door-sill, or threshold, which he named Paepae-hakehake; and
he built a small elevated storehouse to hold his food, and he
named it Paeahua; the river itself he named Patea; and he dug
a well which he named Parara-ki-te-uru. The farm he cultivated
there he named Hekeheke-i-papa; the wooden spade he made he called
Tipu-i-whenua: then he had his farm dug up, and the chant they
sang to encourage themselves, and to keep time as they dug, was:
'Break up our goddess mother,
Break up the ancient goddess earth;
We speak of you, oh, earth!
but do not disturb
The plants we have brought hither from Hawaiki the noble;
It was Maui who scraped the earth in heaps round the sides,
In Kuratau.'
There they planted the farm; they had but eight seed kumara,
but they divided these into small pieces, which they put separately
into the ground; and when the shoots sprang up, Turi made the
place sacred with prayers and incantations, lest any one should
venture there and hurt the plants; the name of the incantation
he used was Ahu-roa; then harvest-time came, they gathered
in the crop of sweet potatoes, and found that they had eight
hundred baskets of them. The deeds above related were those which
our ancestor Turi performed; Rongo-rongo was the name of his
principal Wife, and they had several children, from whom sprang
the tribes of Whanganui and the Ngati-Ruanui tribe.
The Emigration of Manaia
THE cause which led Manaia to come
here from Hawaiki, was his being very badly treated by a large
party of his friends and neighbours, whom, according to the usual
custom when a chief has any heavy work to be done, he had collected
to make his spears for him, for they violently ravished his wife
Rongo-tiki.
It chanced thus: One day Manaia determined to have his neighbours
all warned to come to a great gathering of people for the purpose
of making spears for him, so he sent round a messenger to collect
them, and the messenger arrived at the place of Tupenu, who listened
to his message, and he being chief of the tribe who lived at
that place, encouraged his people to go in obedience to the message
of Manaia; they went and set to work, and after some time it
happened that Manaia felt a wish to go and catch some fish for
his workmen; so he went off in his canoe with several of his
people. After he had been gone for some time the workmen proposed
amongst themselves to assault Rongo-tiki, the wife of Manaia;
and they carried their intentions into execution without any
one knowing what they were doing; all this time Manaia, suspecting
nothing, was paddling in his canoe out to sea, and when he reached
the fishingground, they lay on their paddles. Manaia's people
soon caught plenty of fish, but he had not even a single bite,
until at last, as they were on the point of returning, he felt
a fish nibbling at his hook, so he gave a jerk to his line to
pull it up; and when he got the fish up to the side of the canoe,
to his surprise he saw that the hook was not in the mouth of
the fish, but fast in its tail; and as this had long been esteemed
as a sign that your wife was being insulted by somebody he at
once knew how his had been treated by his workmen; without waiting,
therefore, a moment longer, he said to his crew: 'Heave up the
anchor, we will return to the shore'; so they hove up the anchor,
and shaped a course for the landing-place on the main; whilst
they were pulling into the shore, Manaia took the fish he had
caught, and with the hook still fast in its tail, tied it on
to one of the thwarts of the canoe, and left it there, in order
that when Rongo-tiki saw it she might know without his telling
her, that he was aware that she had been badly treated by his
workmen.
At length his canoe reached the shore, and the crew jumping
out, hauled it up on the sandy beach, and Manaia leaving it there,
walked home towards his village; when he had got near home, his
wife seeing him approach, arose and made the fire ready to roast
some fern-root for her husband, who she thought would come back
hungry; and when he reached home the fire was lighted, and she
was sitting by the side of it roasting the fern-root, and she
made signs to him by which he might know what had happened; but
he knew it already from the manner in which his hook had caught
in the tail of the fish; then he sent his wife to fetch the fish,
saying: 'Mother, go and fetch the fish I have caught from my
canoe'; so she went, and when she got there, she found that there
were no fish but the single one, hanging to the thwart of the
canoe, with a hook fast in its tail; then she took that fish
and carried it home with her, and when she got there, Manaia
said: 'That is the fish I meant you to bring, lest you should
have said that I did not know what had taken place until you
told me.'
Manaia then turned over in his mind various plans for revenging
himself upon the people who had acted in so brutal a manner towards
his wife, and he consulted with his own tribe how they might
destroy those who had thus injured him; when the tribe of Manaia
heard what had taken place, they all arose to seek revenge; but
before the fighting which arose from this affair broke out, Manaia
went to the people who had wronged his wife, and told them that
he hoped they would make the spears large and strong, and not
put him off with weak things, but rather make them stout and
strong; this was a mere piece of deceit on his part, in order
that when he attacked them, their weapons might be too heavy
readily to parry their enemies' blows with them.
All these preparations having been made, Manaia lay in ambush
with some of his people, and when the opportunity of rushing
on their enen-fies presented itself, Manaia nudged with his elbow
his son, Tu-ure-nui, who was lying by his side, to encourage
him to distinguish himself by rushing in, and killing the first
man of the enemy; but being afraid to go he did not move, and
whilst Manaia was encouraging him in vain, another young man,
the name of whose father had never been told by his mother, rushed
forward and slew the fixst of the enemy, and as with his weapon
he struck him down, he cried out: 'The first slain of the enemy
belongs to me, to Kahu-kaka-nui, the son of Manaia'; then for
the first time Manaia knew that this young man was his son, his
last born son; he had before thought that Tu-ure-nui had been
his only son; but when the other young man called out his name,
he knew that he also was his son, and, pleased with his courage,
he loved him very much.
The people lying in ambush, all followed the youth when he
rushed on their enemies, and slaughtered them; but their chief
Pikopiko-i-whcti, and Manaia pursued him closely, but was not
fleet enough of foot to catch him; then he called out to his
wife, Rongo-tiki, to utter mcantations to weaken his enemy; and
she did so, repeating an incantation termed 'Tapuwae', and when
she had fmished that, by her enchantments she rendered the flying
warrior faint and feeble, so that Manaia rapidly gained on him,
caught him, and slew him.
Thus perished Tupenu and the party of people whom he had taken
with him to work for Manaia; the report of what had occurred
soon spread throughout the country, and at last reached the tribe
of Tupenu; and when they heard it, they said: 'Your relatives
have perished.' Their army collected and started to avenge themselves
on Manaia and his tribe, and to destroy them; they slew many
of them, and continued from time to time to attack them, so that
their numbers dwindled away, till at length Manaia began to reflect
within. himself saying: Ah, ah, my warriors are wasting away,
and by and by, perhaps, I also shall be slain; rather than let
this state of things continue, I had better abandon this country,
and, removing to a great distance, seek a new one for myself
and my people.'
Having made up his mind to act in this way, he began to repair
a canoe and to fit it for sea; the namt of the canoe was Toko-maru,
it belonged to his brother-in-law. when it was fit for sea, he
asked his brother-in-law: 'Will you not consent to accompany
me on this voyage?'-and the latter asked in reply: 'Where do
you want me to accompany you to? Manaia said: 'I wish you to
bear me company on this voyage which I am about to undertake,
to search for a new and distant country for both of us'; but
his brother-in-law when he understood what Manaia was pressing
him to do, replied: 'No, I will not go with you'; Manaia answered:
'That is right, do you remam here.'
When the canoe was quite fit for sea, they dragged it down
to the water, and hauled it into the sea until it floated; then
they brought down the cargo and stowed it away, and Manaia embarked
in it with his wife, his children, and his dependants, and then
he said to some of his warriors: 'Let my brother-in-law now be
slain as an offering for the gods, that they may prove propitious
to this canoe of ours.'
So he called to his brother-in-law, who was standing on the
shore, bidding him farewell: 'I say, wade out to me for one minute,
that I may tell you something, and take my last farewell, for
I am going to part for ever from you, leaving you here behind
me.'
When Manaia's brother-in-law heard this, he began to wade
out to him; at first the water hardly covered his ankles, next
it touches his knees, at last it came up above his loins, and
when it had reached so high he said: 'Shove the canoe in a little
nearer the shore, I shall be under water directly'; but Manaia
answered him: 'Wade away, there is no depth of water'; and to
deceive him better, he kept on pretending to touch the bottom
with a stick; and the poor fellow having no suspicion, believed
what Manaia said, that the water was not deep; but Manaia had
spoken before to his people, saying: 'Let him come on, out into
the deep water, until his feet cannot touch the bottom, then
seize him by the head and slay him.' At length his feet could
no longer touch the bottom, and he found himself swimming close
to the canoe; then Manaia seized him by the head, with one blow
of his stone battle-axe he clave it, and his brother-in-law perished.
Having thus slain his victim, he caught up his dog which had
swum out with its master, and lifting it into the canoe, he sailed
away, to search for a new country for himself. He sailed on and
on, and had proceeded very far from the land they had quitted,
when one day the dog Manaia had taken into the canoe scented
land, and howled loudly, struggling to get loose and jump overboard
into the water; the people in the canoe were much surprised at
this, and said: 'Why, what can be the matter with the dog? And
some of them said: 'We'd better let him go if he wishes it, and
see what comes of it'; so they let the dog loose, and he jumped
overboard, and swam on ahead of the canoe, howling loudly as
he went, and this he continued to do, till at last night fell
on them: the canoe still followed for a long time the low faint
howling of the dog, which they could only indistinctly hear;
at last he had got so far off they could no longer distinguish
it, but the dog, after swimming for a long time, finally reached
land.
In the meantime the canoe came following straight on the track
which the dog had taken and when at length the night ended, and
the day began to break, they again heard the howling of the dog,
which had landed close to the stranded carcass of a whale; they
pulled eagerly to the shore, and as soon as they reached it,
there they saw the whale lying stranded, and the dog by its side;
and there they landed on this islandon Ao-tea.
They were rejoiced, indeed, when they ascertained this was
the country for which they had been seeking; first, they allotted
out equally amongst them the whale they had found; but first
Manaia addressed his men, saying: 'We must now build a house
to shelter us, and then we will cut up the whale.' His people
at once obeyed their chief's directions; some of them began to
collect materials for building a shelter, and others to clear
spots of ground, and to prepare them for planting.
Some few of them called out: 'Here is the best place for our
village': whilst others, on the contrary, cried out: 'No, no,
this is the best place for it'; and others still, who had got
a little farther along the beach, cried out: 'Here is still a
better place'; and others, yet further ahead, said: 'Here, here,
this is the best place we have yet seen'; thus all were led to
leave their proper work, and to wander a long way along the shore,
exploring the new country, and seeking for a site for their future
home; at last they found that little by little they had been
drawn a long way from the spot where they had landed, and from
the whale which they had found.
Now there were some other canoes coming close after the canoe,
Tokomaru, which presently made the land, too, and reached the
shore just at the point where the Toko-maru had been drawn up
upon the beach, and they saw the marks of the Tokomaru upon the
sand, and the sheds that had been put up, and the bits of land
that had been cleared; and they, without delay, began to claim
each one as his own, the sheds, the cleared ground, and the whale,
which all belonged to the people of the canoe which had first
landed.
Then they went to search for the people who had come in that
canoe, and when they had found them, each party saluted the other,
and when their mutual greetings were over, those who had come
in the first canoe asked those who had come in the second: 'When
did you arrive here? And they answered them by saying: 'When
did you arrive here? Those of the first canoe answered: 'A long
time ago.' Then the people of the second canoe answered: 'And
we also arrived a long time ago.' Those who had come in the first
canoe now replied: 'Nay, nay, we arrived here before you.' Then
those of the second canoe answered: 'Nay, nay, but we arrived
here before you'; and they continued disputing, arguing each
party with the other.
At last Manaia asked them: 'What are the proofs you give to
show when you arrived here? And they answered: 'That is all very
well; but what proofs have you to show when you arrived here?
But Manaia replied: 'The proof I have to show when I arrived
here is a whale of mine which I found upon the beach.' Then the
people who had come in the second canoe answered: I No, indeed,
that whale belongs to us.' But Manaia answered quite angrily:
'No, I say that whale belongs to me; just look you, you will
find my sheds standing there, and my temporary encampment, and
the pieces of land which my people have cleared.' But the others
answered him: 'Nay, indeed those are our sheds, and our pieces
of cleared land; and as for the whale, it is our whale; now let
us go and examine them.'
So the whole party returned together, until they came to the
place where they had landed, and when they saw all these things
there, Manaia said: 'Look you, that whale belongs to me; as well
as those sheds and the cleared pieces of land.' But the others
laughed at him and said: 'Why, you must have gone mad, all these
houses belong to us, and the clearings, and that whale too.'
And Manaia, who was now quite provoked, replied: 'I say no; the
clearings are mine, the sheds are mine, as well as the whale.'
The others, however, answered him: 'Very well, then, if that
is the case, where is your sacred place? But Manaia replied:
, Where is your sacred place also then? And they answered: 'Come
along, and see it.' And they all went together to see the sacred
place of these newly-arrived people, and when they saw it, Manaia
believed them.
Although he gave credit to the fact of their having arrived
first, Manaia was sorely perplexed and troubled, and he abandoned
altogether the part of the country he had first reached, and
started again to seek for another for himself, for his relations,
and his people; they coasted right along the shores of the island
from Whanga-paraoa, and doubled the North Cape, and from thence
made a direct course to Taranaki, and made the land at Tongaporutu,
between Parininihi and Mokau, and they landed there, and remained
for some time, and left the god they worshipped there; the name
of their god was Rakei-ora.
They then turned to journey back towards Mokau; some of them
went by land along the coast line, and others in their canoe,
the two parties keeping in sight of one another as they examined
the coast; and when they reached the river Mokau those in the
canoe landed, and they left there the stone anchor of their canoe;
it is still lying near the mouth of the river, on its north side,
and the present name of the rock is the Punga-o-Matori. Then
they pulled back in the Toko-maru, to Tongaporutu, and leaving
the canoe there, explored the country unto Puke-aruhe, thence
they went on as far as Papatiki, and there descended to the shore
to the beach of Kuku-riki, and travelling along it, they reached
the river of Onaero, forded it, and passed the plain of Motu-nui,
and Kaweka, and Uremli; that river had a name before Manaia and
his people reached it; but when Manaia arrived there with his
son, Tu-ure-nui, he changed its name, and called it after his
son, Tu-ure-nui; and they forded the river, and travelled on
until they reached Raho-tu, at the mouth of the river Waitara,
and they dwelt there, and there they found people living, the
native inhabitants of these islands; but Manaia and his party
slew them, and destroyed them, so that the country was left for
himself and for his descendants, and for his tribe and their
descendants, and Manaia and his followers destroyed the original
occupants of the country, in order to obtain possession of it.
Manaia was the ancestor of the Ngati-Awa tribe; he fought
two great battles in Hawaiki, the names of which were Kirikiri-wawa
and Ratorua; the fame of his weapons resounded theretheir names
were Kihia and Rakea; and there also was known the fame of his
son, of Kahu-kaka-nui-a-Manaia, of the youth who was baptized
with the baptism of children whose fathers are not known.
Hine-moa
AND the man said to him, 'Now, O governor,
just look round you, and listen to me, for there is something
worth seeing here; that very spot that you are sitting upon,
is the place on which sat our great ancestress Hine-moa, when
she swam over here from the main. But I'll tell you the whole
story.
'Look you now, Rangi-Uru was the name of the mother of a chief
called Tutanekai; she was, properly, the wife of Whakauekaipapa
(the great ancestor of the Ngati-Whakaue tribe); but she at one
time ran away with a chief named Tu-whare-toa (the great ancestor
of the Te Heuheu and the Ngati-Tuwharetoa tribe); before this
she had three sons by Whakaue, their names were Tawake-hei-moa,
Ngarara-nui, and Tutea-iti. It was after the birth of this third
son, that Rangi-Uru eloped with Tu-whare-toa, who had come to
Rotorua as a stranger on a visit. From this affair sprang Tutanekai,
who was an illegitimate child; but finally, Whakaue and Rangi-Uru
were united again, and she had another son whose name was Kopako;
and then she had a daughter whom they named Tupa; she was the
last child of Whakaue.
'They all resided here on the island of Mokoia. Whakaue was
very kind indeed to Tutanekai, treating him as if he was his
own son; so they grew up here, Tutanekai and his elder brothers,
until they attained to manhood.
'Now there reached them here a great report of Hine-moa, that
she was a maiden of rare beauty, as well as of high rank, for
Umu-karia (the great ancestor of the Ngati-Umu-karia hapli, or
sub-tribe) was her father; her mother's name was Hine-rnaru.
When such fame attended her beauty and rank, Tutanekai and each
of his elder brothers desired to have her as a wife.
'About this time Tutanekai built an elevated balcony, on the
slope of that hill just above you there, which is called Kaiweka.
He had contracted a great friendship for a young man named Tiki;
they were both fond of music: Tutanekai played on the putorino,
and Tiki on the koauau; and they used to go up into the
balcony and play on their instruments in the night; and in calm
evenings the sound of their music was wafted by the gentle land-breezes
across the lake to the village at Owhata, where dwelt the beautiful
young Hine-moa, the young sister of Wahiao.
'Hine-moa could then hear the sweet sounding music of the
instruments of Tutanekai and of his dear friend Tiki, which gladdened
her heart Within her-every night the two friends played on their
instruments in this manner-and Hine-moa then ever said to herself:
"Ah! that is the music of Tutanekai which I hear."
'For although Hine-moa was so prized by her family, that they
would not betroth her to any chief; nevertheless, she and Tutanekai
had met each other on those occasions when all the people of
Rotorua come together.
'In those great assemblies of the people Hine-moa had seen
Tutanekai, and as they often glanced each at the other, to the
heart of each of them the other appeared pleasing, and worthy
of love, so that in the breast of each there grew up a secret
passion for the other. Nevertheless, Tutanekai could not tell
whether he might venture to approach Hine-moa to take her hand,
to see would she press his in return, because, said he: "Perhaps
I may be by no means agreeable to her"; on the other hand,
Hine-moa's heart said to her: "If you send one of your female
friends to tell him of your love, perchance he will not be pleased
with you."
'However, after they had thus met for many, many days, and
had long fondly glanced each at the other, Tutanekai sent a messenger
to Fline-moa, to tell of his love; and when Hine-moa had seen
the messenger, she said: "Eh-hu! have we then each loved
alike?"
'Some time after this, and when they had often met, Tutanekai
and his family returned to their own village; and being together
one evening, in the large warm house of general assembly, the
elder brothers of Tutanekai said: 'Which of us has by signs,
or by pressure of the hand, received proofs of the love of Hine-moa?"
And one said: "It is I who have"; and another said:
"No, but it is I.' Then they also questioned Tutanekai,
and he said: "I have pressed the hand of Hine-moa, and she
pressed mine in return"; but his elder brother said: "No
such thing; do you think she would take any notice of such a
low-born fellow as you are?" He then told his reputed father,
Whakaue, to remember what he would then say to him, because he
really had received proofs of Hine-moa's love; they had even
actually arranged a good while before the time at which Hine-moa
should run away to him; and, when the maiden asked: "What
shall be the sign by which I shall know that I should then run
to you?" he said to her: "A putorino will be
heard sounding every night, it will be I who sound it, belovedpaddle
then your canoe to that place." So Whakaue kept in his mind
this confession which Tutanekai had made to him.
'Now always about the nuddle of the night Tutanekai, and his
friend Tiki, went up into their balcony and played, the one upon
his putorino, the other upon his koauau, and Hine-moa
heard them, and desired vastly to paddle in her canoe to Tutanekai;
but her friends suspecting something, had been careful with the
canoes, to leave none afloat, but had hauled then all up upon
the shore of the lake; and thus her friends had always done for
many days and for many nights.
'At last she reflected in her heart, saying: "How can
I then contrive to cross the lake to the island of Mokoia; it
can plainly be seen that my friends suspect what I am going to
do." So she sat down upon the ground to rest; and then soft
measures reached her from the putorino of Tutanekai, and the
young and beautiful chieftainess felt as if an earthquake shook
her to make her go to the beloved of her heart; but then arose
the recollection, that there was no canoe. At last she thought,
perhaps I might be able to swim across. So she took six large
dry empty gourds, as floats, lest she should sink in the water,
three of them for each side, and she went out upon a rock, which
is named Iri-iri-kapua, and from thence to the edge of the water,
to the spot called Wai-rere-wai, and there she threw off her
clothes and cast herself into the water, and she reached the
stump of a sunken tree which used to stand in the lake, and was
called Hinewhata, and she clung to it with her hands, and rested
to take breath, and when she had a little eased the weariness
of her shoulders, she swam on again, and whenever she was exhausted
she floated with the current of the lake, supported by the gourds,
and after recovering strength she swam on again; but she could
not distinguish in which direction she should proceed, from the
darkness of the night; her only guide was, however, the soft
measure from the instrument of Tutanekai; that was the mark by
which she swam straight to Wai-kinihia, for just above that hot-spring
was the village of Tutanekai, and swimming, at last she reached
the island of Mokoia.
'At the place where she landed on the island, there is a hot-spring
separated from the lake only by a narrow ledge of rocks; this
is it-it is called, as I just said, Wai-kimihia. Hine-moa got
into this to warm herself, for she was trembling all over, partly
from the cold, after swimming in the night across the wide lake
of Rotorua, and partly also, perhaps, from modesty, at the thoughts
of meeting Tutanekai.
'Whilst the maiden was thus warming herself in the hot-spring,
Tutanekai happened to feel thirsty, and said to his servant:
"Bring me a little water"; so his servant went to fetch
water for him, and drew it from the lake in a calabash, close
to the spot where Hine-moa was sitting; the maiden, who was frightened,
called out to him in a gruff voice like that of a man: "Whom
is that water for?" He replied: "It's for Tutanekai."
"Give it there, then", said Hine-moa. And he gave her
the water, and she drank, and having finished drinking, purposely
threw down the calabash, and broke it. Then the servant asked
her: "What business had you to break the calabash of Tutanekai?"
But Hine-moa did not say a word in answer. The servant then went
back, and Tutanekai said to him: "Where is the water I told
you to bring me?" So he answered: "Your calabash was
broken." And his master asked him: "Who broke it?"-and
he answered: "The man who is in the bath." And Tutanekai
said to him: "Go back again then, and fetch me some water."
'He, therefore, took a second calabash, and went back, and
drew water in the calabash from the lake; and Hine-moa again
said to him: "Whom is that water for?"-so the slave
answered as before: "For Tutanekai." And the maiden
again said: "Give it to me, for I am thirsty"; and
the slave gave it to her, and she drank, and purposely threw
down the calabash and broke it; and these occurrences took place
repeatedly between those two persons.
'At last the slave went again to Tutanekai, who said to him:
"Where is the water for me?"-and his servant answered:
"It is all gone-your calabashes have been broken."
"By whom?" said his master. "Didn't I tell you
that there is a man in the bath?" answered the servant.
"Who is the fellow?" said Tutanekai. "How can
I tell?" replied the slave; "why, he's a stranger."
"Didn't he know the water was for me?" said Tutanekai;
"how did the rascal dare to break my calabashes? Why, I
shall die from rage."
'Then Tutanekai threw on some clothes, and caught hold of
his dub, and away he went, and came to the bath, and called out:
"Where's that fellow who broke my calabashes?" And
Hine-moa knew the voice, that the sound of it was that of the
beloved of her heart; and she hid herself under the overhanging
rocks of the hot-sprmg; but her hiding was hardly a real hiding,
but rather a bashful concealing of herself from Tutanekai, that
he might not find her at once, but only after trouble and careful
searching for her; so he went feeling about along the banks of
the hot-spring, searching everywhere, whilst she lay coyly hid
under the ledges of the rock, peeping out, wondering when she
would be found. At last he caught hold of a hand, and cried out:
"Hallo, who's this?" And Hine-moa answered: "It's
I, Tutanekai." And he said: "But who are you?who's
I?" Then she spoke louder, and said: "It's I, 'tis
Hine-moa." And he said: "Ho! ho! ho! can such in very
truth be the case? Let us two go then to my house." And
she answered: "Yes"; and she rose up in the water as
beautiful as the white heron, and stepped upon the edge of the
bath as graceful as the shy white crane; and he threw garments
over her and took her, and they proceeded to his house, and reposed
there; and thenceforth, according to the ancient laws of the
Maori, they were man and wife.
'When the morning dawned, all the people of the village went
forth from their houses to cook their breakfasts, and they all
ate; but Tutanekai tarried in his house. So Whakaue said: "This
is the first morning that Tutanekai has slept in this way, perhaps
the lad is illbring him hererouse him up." Then
the man who was to fetch him went, and drew back the sliding
wooden window of the house, and peeping in, saw four feet. Oh!
he was greatly amazed, and said to himself: "Who can this
companion of his be?" However, he had seen quite enough,
and turning about, hurried back as fast as he could to Whakaue,
and said to him: "Why, there are four feet, I saw them myself
in the house." Whakaue answered: "Who is his companion
then? hasten back and see." So back he went to the house,
and peeped in at them again, and then for the first time he saw
it was Hinemoa. Then he shouted out in his amazement: "Oh!
here's Hinemoa, here's Hine-moa, in the house of Tutanekai";
and all the village heard him, and there arose cries on every
side, "Oh! here's Hine-moa, here's Hine-moa with Tutanekai."
And his elder brothers heard the shouting, and they said: "It
is not true!"for they were very jealous indeed. Tutanekai
then appeared coming from his house, and Hine-moa following him,
and his elder brothers saw that it was indeed Hine-moa; and they
said: "It is true! It is a fact!"
'After these things, Tiki thought within himself- "Tutanekai
has married Hine-moa, she whom he loved; but as for me, alas!
I have no wife"; and he became sorrowful, and returned to
his own village. And Tutanekai was grieved for Tiki; and he said
to Whakaue: "I am quite ill from grief for my friend Tiki";
and Whakaue said: "What do you mean?" And Tutanekai
replied: "I refer to my young sister Tupa; let her be given
as a wife to my beloved friend, to Tiki"; and his reputed
father Whakaue consented to this; so his young sister Tupa was
given to Tiki, and she became his wife.
'The descendants of Hine-moa and of Tutanekai are at this
very day dwelling on the lake of Rotorua, and never yet have
the lips of the offspring of Hine-moa forgotten to repeat tales
of the great beauty of their renowned ancestress Hine-moa, and
of her swimming over here; and this too is the burden of a song
still current.'
The Story of Maru-tuahu, the Son of Hotu-nui
HOTU-NUI was one of those chiefs who
arrived in New Zealand from a land beyond the ocean. The Tainui
was the canoe in which he arrived in these islands. He left Kawhia,
where he first settled, and came overland to Hauraki, and finally
took up his residence in a village called Whaka-tiwai. He had,
at Kawhia, a son called Maru-tuahu, but Hotu-nui was not there
when this child was born.
The cause which made him come from Kawlila to Hauraki was
a false accusation that was brought against him regarding a store-house
of sweet potatoes belonging to another chief, a friend of his.
The accusation arose in this way. Hotu-nui went out of his house
one night, almost at the same moment that a thief had gone out
to rob this store-house; it was very unfortunate that they should
both have gone out nearly at the same moment, just about midnight.
When day dawned, Hotu-nui came out of his house, and people in
the morning had seen his footsteps, right along the path by which
the thief had gone, and there were the sweet potatoes dropped
all along the path, and as the soles of Hotu-nui's feet were
very large, his foot-prints had quite erased those of the thief;
so presently they brought an accusation against Hotu-nui, that
he had stolen the sweet potatoes. At this time Hotu-nui's wife
had just conceived Maru-tuahu, but he was so overcome by shame
at the accusation brought against hirn, that the thought came
into his mind to run away from wife and all and go to Hauraki
to seek another residence for himself. His seed was ready, and
he had dug his land, and prepared the ground for planting it,
but had not yet put in the seed, when he went to his wife and
said: 'Now, remember, when the child is born, if it is a boy
call it Maru-tuahu, and if it is a girl, call it Pare-tuahu [either
name meaning the field made ready for planting], in remembrance
of that cultivation of mine, prepared for planting to no purpose.'
Then Hotu-nui went off to Hauraki, and resided at Whaka-tiwai,
and became the chief of the people of that country, and he took
another wife, the young sister of a chief named Te Whatu, and
she bore him a child named Paka.
When Maru-tuahu came to man's estate, he took up his club,
and asked his mother, saying: 'Mother, show me the mountain range
that is near my father's abode'; and the mother said: 'Look my
child towards the place of sunrise.' And her son said: 'What,
there?'-and he was answered by his mother: 'Yes, that is it-Hauraki';
and Maru-tuahu answered: "Tis well; I understand.'
Then Maru-tuahu started with his slave, and travelled towards
Hauraki, and they carried with them a spear for killing birds;
this they took as a means of procuring food on the journey, as
they came by way of the wooded mountains where birds are plentiful;
they were a whole month before they arrived at Kohu-kohu-nui,
and reached the outskirts of the forests there early one morning,
at the same time that two young girls, the daughters of Te Whatu,
the chief of Hauraki, were coming along the same path from the
opposite direction. Maru-mahu was up in a forest tree, spearing
tui birds, at the moment when the two girls saw the slave
sitting under the tree in which Maru-tuahu was killing birds,
and his master's cloak lying on the ground by him. The two girls
came merrily along the path; the youngest sister was very beautiful,
but the eldest was plain; and when they saw the slave of Maru-tuahu,
the youngest one, who had seen him first, called out playfully:
'Ah! there's a man will make a nice slave for me.' 'Where? said
the eldest sister, 'where is he?'-and the youngest replied: 'There,
there, cannot you see him sitting at the root of that tree? Then
up they ran towards him, sportively contesting with one another
whose slave he should be; and the youngest got there first, and
therefore claimed him as her slave.
All this time Maru-tuahu was peeping down at the two girls
from the top of the tree; and they asked the slave, saying: 'Where
is your master? he answered; 'I have no master but him.' Then
the girls looked about, and there was the cloak lying on the
ground, and a heap of dead birds; and they kept on asking: 'Where
is he?'-but it was not long before a flock of tuis settled
on the tree where Maru-tuahu was sitting; he speared at them,
and struck a tui, which made the tree ring with its cries;
the girls heard it, and looking up, the youngest saw the young
chief sitting in the top boughs of the tree; and she at once
called up to him: 'Ah! you shall be my husband'; but the eldest
sister exclaimed: 'You shall be mine', and they began jesting
and disputing between themselves which should have him for a
husband, for he was a very handsome young man.
Then the two girls called up to him to come down from the
tree, and down he came, and dropped upon the ground, and pressed
his nose against the nose of each of the young girls. They then
asked him to come to their village with them; to which he consented,
but said: 'You two go on ahead, and leave me and my slave, and
we will follow you presently'; and the girls said: 'Very well,
do you come after us.' Maru-tuahu then told his slave to make
a present to the girls of the food they had collected, and he
gave them two bark baskets of pigeons, preserved in their own
fat, and they went off to their village with these. Maru-tuahu
stopped behind with his slave, and as soon as the girls had gone,
he went to a stream, and washed his hair in the water, and then
came back, and combed it very carefully, and after combing it,
he tied it up in a knot, and stuck fifty red kaka feathers
in his head, and amongst them he placed the plume of a white
heron, and the tail of a huia, as ornaments; he thus looked
extremely handsome, and said to his slave: 'Now, let us go.'
It was not very long before the two young girls came back
from the village to meet their so-called husband, that they might
all go in together; and when they came up to him, there he was
seated on the ground, looking quite different from what he did
before, for he now appeared as handsome as the large crested
cormorant; he had on outside, a pueru cloak, within that,
a cloak called the kahakaha, and under that again, a garment
called the kopu (this in ancient times made up the dress
of a great chief). the two young girls felt deeply in love with
him when they saw him and they said to Maru': 'Come along to
our father's village with us'; and he again consented, and told
his slave to keep with them, and as they all went along, Maru'
stopped a little until he was some way behind, for he thought
that the girls had not found out who he was: as they proceeded,
seeing that Maru' did not follow them fast, they asked his slave,
who kept along with them: 'What is the name of your master!'-and
the slave answered: 'Is there no chief of the west coast of the
island whose fame has reached this place!'-and the young girls
said: 'Yes, the fame of one man has reached this place, the fame
of Maru-tuahu, the son of Hotu-nui';-and the slave answered:
'This is he': and the girls replied: 'Dear, dear, we had not
the least idea that it was he.' By this time Maru' was coming
up again to join them, for he guessed the girls had asked his
slave who he was, and that they had been told, but the girls
ran off together to Hotu-nui, and their father Te Whatu, to inform
them who was coming, as they had previously left the old men
waiting for their return: but presently the two girls changed
their plan, and arranged between themselves, that the youngest
should run quickly to tell Hotu-nui that his son was coming,
and that the eldest sister should be left to lead Maru-tuahu
to the village: and in this way they proceeded, those who were
going slowly to the village loitering along, whilst the younger
sister was far ahead, running as fast as she could, and crying
out as she came near the village: 'Are you there, O Hotu-nui!
here's your son coming-here is Maru-tuahu.' Then Hotu-nui called
out with a loud voice: 'Where is he!'-and she replied: 'Here
he comes, he is coming along close behind me: make haste and
have the floor of the house covered with fine mats for him, so
that he may have a fittlng reception.'
Maru-tuahu soon came in sight, and as he was seen approaching,
he looked as handsome as the beautiful creasted cormorant. The
people got upon the defences of the village, and ran outside
the gates, to look at him: and the young girls all waved the
corners of their cloaks, crying out: 'Welcome, welcome, welcome,
welcome, make haste, make haste': and he stepped boldly out,
and reached the village. As soon as he had arrived there, they
all wept over him: and when they had done weeping, they sat down,
and formed a semicircle, with Maru-tuahu at the open part: and
Hotu-nui stood up to make a speech of welcome to his son, and
he spoke thus: 'Welcome, welcome, oh, my child, welcome to Hauraki,
welcome. You are very welcome. You have suddenly appeared here,
urged by your own affections. You are very welcome.' Having said
this, Hotu-nui sat down again; then Maru-tuahu jumped up to make
a speech in reply, and he said: 'That is right, that is right,
oh, my father, call out to your child: "You are welcome."
Here I am arrived at Hauraki, here I am seeking out my father's
village in Hauraki, but I, who am the mere slave of my father,
can say nothing in answer to his welcome; here I am arrived at
your village, it is for you to speak; a young man just arrived
from the forests has no fitting word to say in your presence.'
Thus he ended his speech, and a feast was spread out, and
they all fell to eating, for they had killed ten dogs for the
feast, and the chiefs all ate, and the two young girls; but,
although no one knew it, the two sisters were all the time quarrelling
with each other as to which of them should have Maru-tuahu for
a husband: the heart of one of them whispered to her, be shall
be mine; but the heart of the other young girl said just the
same thing to her.
The feast being ended, they left the common part of the pa
where food was eaten, and moved on one side, to the sacred precincts.
When the evening came on a fire was kindled in the house, and
the eldest girl. not seeing her younger sister, went to her father
to ask for her, and was told that she had been given as a wife
to Maru-tuahu. At this she was exceedingly vexed, and provoked
with her sister; for although she was plain, she thought to herself,
I am very pretty, and I am sure, there's not the least reason
why Maru-tuahu should be frightened at me; and she went off to
quarrel with her younger sister; but Marutuahu did not like her
upon account of her plainness, and her prctty sister kept him
as her husband.
Te Paka, the son of Hotu-nui, the nephew of Te Whatu, and
the younger brother of Maru-tuahu, had grown up to be a young
man, so they gave him the elder daughter of Te Whatu to be his
wife; thus the elder sister was married, as well as the young
one, who was given to Maru-tuahu for his wife; and Te Paka's
wife bore him a daughter, whom they called Te Kahu-rere-moa.
The youngest daughter of Te Whatu, whom Maru-tuahu married,
bore him three children, Tama-te-po, Tama-te-ra, and Whanaunga;
from Tama-te-po sprang the Ngati-Rongou tribe; from Tama-te-ra
sprang the tribe of Ngati-Tama-te-ra and from Whanaunga sprang
the Ngati-Whanaunga tribe.
Whilst Maru-tuahu was living at Hauraki, his father Hotu-nui
told him how very badly some of the people of that place had
treated him; these were the facts of the case, as the old chief
related them to him: 'One day, when the canoes of the tribe came
in full of fish, after hauling their nets, he sent down one of
his servants from his house to the canoe to bring back some fish
for him, and when the servant ran down for this purpose, the
man who owned the nets said to him: "Well, what brings you
here?"upon which his servant answered: "Hotu-nui
sent me down, to bring up some fish for him, he quite longs to
taste them." Upon which the owner of the nets cursed Hotu-nui
in the most violent and offensive manner, saying: "Is his
head the flax that grows in the swamp at Otoi?or is his
topknot flax, that the old fellow cannot go there to get some
flax to make a net for himself with, instead of troubling me?"
When Hotu-nui's servant heard this, he returned at once to the
house, and his master not seeing the fish, said: "Well,
tell me what is the matter"; so he replied: "I went
as you told me, and I asked the man who had been hauling the
net for some fish; and he only looked up at me. Again I asked
him for some fish; and then he said, Who sent you here to fetch
fish, pray?" Then I told him, "Hotu-nui sent me down
to bring up some fish for him, be quite longs to taste them";
then the man cursed you, saying to me, "Is Hotunui's head
the flax that grows in the swamp at Otoi; or is his topknot flax,
that the old fellow cannot go there, to get some flax to make
a net with for himself?"
When Hotu-nui had told this story to Maru-tuahu, he said:
'Now, oh, my son, this tribe is a very bad one, they seem bent
upon lowering the authority of their chiefs.'
The heart of Maru-tuahu felt very gloomy when he heard his
father had been treated thus, and Hotu-nui said to him: 'You
may well look sad, my son, at hearing what I have just said;
this tribe is composed of very bad people.' And Maru-tuahu replied:
'Leave them alone, they shall find out what such conduct leads
to.'
Then Maru-tuahu began to catch and dry great quantities of
fish for a feast, and he worked away with his men at making fishing-nets,
until he had collected a very great number; it was in the winter
that he began to make these nets, and the winter, spring, summer,
and part of autumn passed, before they were finished; then he
sent a messenger to the tribe who had cursed his father, to ask
them to come to a feast, and to help him to stretch these nets;
and when the messenger came back, Marutuahu asked him: 'Where
are they?'and the messenger answered: 'The day after to-morrow
they will. arrive here.' Then Maru-tuahu gave orders, saying:
'To-morrow let the feast be ranged in rows, so that when they
arrive here they may find it all ready for them.' Upon this they
all retired to rest, and when the dawn appeared they arranged
the food to be given to the strangers in rows: the outside of
the rows was composed of fish piled up; but under these was placed
nothing but rotten wood and filth, although the exterior made
a very goodly show. He intended this feast to be a feast at which
those who came as guests should be slaughtered, in revenge for
the curse against Hotu-nui, which had exceedingly pained his
heart.
Soon after daybreak the next morning the guests came, and
seeing the piles of provisions which were laid out for them,
they were exceedingly rejoiced, and longed for the time of their
distribution, and when they might touch this food, little thinking
how dearly they were to pay for it. The guests had all arrived
and taken their seats upon the grass, when Maru-tuahu and his
people came together-they were only one hundred and forty.
As they were to stretch the great net made up of all the small
ones upon the next morning, on that evening they put all the
nets and ropes into the water to soak them, in order to soften
the flax of which they were made, so that they might be more
easily stretched; and when the morning dawned those who had come
for the purpose began to draw out the net, stretching the rope
and the bottom of the net along the ground, and pegging it tight
down from comer to comer, and thus whilst Maru-tuahu's people
were preparing food for them to eat, the others worked away at
stretching the net taut, and pegging it fast to the ground to
hold it; it was not long before they had finished this and had
put on the weights to sink it.
Maru-tuahu sent a man to see whether they had finished stretching
the net, and when the man came back, he said: 'Have they done
stretching the net?'and the man answered: 'Yes, they have
finished.' Then Maru-tuahu said: 'Let us go and lift the upper
end of the net from the ground; they have finished the lower
end of it.' Then the one hundred and forty men went with him,
each one carrying a weapon, carefully concealed under his garments,
lest their guests should see them; and when they reached the
place where the net was, they found the guests, nearly a thousand
in number, had finished stretching the lower end of the net.
Then the priest of Maru-tuahu who was to consecrate the net said:
'Let the upper end of the net be raised, so that the net may
be stretched straight out'; and Maru-tuahu said: 'Yes, let it
be done at once, it is getting late in the day.' Then the one
hundred and forty men began to lift up the net, with the left
hand they seized the ropes to raise it, but with the right hand
each firmly grasped his weapon, and Maru-tuahu shouted out: 'Lift
away, lift away, lift it well up'; when they had raised it high
in the air, they walked on with it; holding it up as if they
were spreading it out, until they got it well over the strangers,
who were either pegging the lower end down, or were seated on
the ground looking on; then Maru-tuahu shouted out: 'Let it fall';
and they let it fall, and caught in it their guests, nearly a
thousand in number; they caught every one of them in the net,
so that they could not move to make any effectual resistance,
and whilst some of the one hundred and forty men of Maru-tuahu
held the net down, the rest slew with their weapons the whole
thousand, not one escaped, whilst they lost not a single man
themselves. Hence 'The feast of rotten wood' is a proverb amongst
the descendants of Maru-tuahu to this day. This feast of rotten
wood was given at a place which was then named Puke-whau, but
which was afterwards called Karihitangata (or, men were the weights
which were attached to the net to sink it), upon account of the
thousand people who were there slain by treachery in the net
of Maru-tuahu; for men were the weights that were attached to
that net to sink it. After the death of all these people, the
country they inhabited became the property of Maru-tuahu, and
his heirs dwell there to the present day.
Te Kahu-rere-moa
ABOUT the time that Te Kahu-rere-moa,
Paka's daughter, became marriageable, a large party of visitors
arrived at Whare-kawa, the village of Te Paka; they came from
Ao-tea, or the Great Barrier Island; at their head was the principal
chief of Ao-tea, and he brought in his canoes a present of two
hundred and sixty baskets of mackerel for Te Paka, and they became
such good friends that they thought they would like to be connected;
so it was arranged that Te Paka's daughter, Te Kahu-rere-moa,
should be given as a wife to the son of that chief; part of Te
Paka's plan was to get possession of Ao-tea for his family, for
he thought when his daughter had children, and they were grown
up, that it was possible they would secure the island for their
grandfather, or for their mother's family.
When the party of visitors was about to return to Ao-tea,
having formed this connection with Te Paka's tribe through the
girl, her father gave her up to them to take to Ao-tea to her
husband, and he told his daughter to go on board the canoe, and
to accompany them to Ao-tea; but he told her to no purpose, for
she did not obey him; in short, Te Kahu-rere-moa refused to go.
So the old chief to whom the canoes belonged said: 'Never mind,
never mind, leave her alone, we shall not be long away, we shall
soon return, we shall not be long before we are back'; and they
left Te Kahu-rere-moa with her father, and paddled off
in their canoes.
In one month's time they came back again, and brought with
them a present of thirty baskets of mackerel, and as soon as
they arrived they distributed these amongst their friends; and
down ran Te Kahu-rere-moa from the village to the landing-place
to take a basket of mackerel for herself. As soon as Paka saw
this, he gave his daughter a sound scolding for going and taking
the fish; this is what Paka said to his daughter: 'Put that down,
you shall not have it; I wanted you to go and become the wife
of the young chief of the place where these good fish abound,
and you refused to go, therefore you shall not now have any.'
This was quite enough; poor little Te Kahu-rere-moa felt entirely
overcome with shame, she left the basket of fish, dropping it
just where she was, and ran back into the house, and began to
sob and cry; then her thoughts suggested to her, that after this,
it would be better that she should be no more seen by the eyes
of her father, and that her father's face should be no more seen
by her, and her heart kept on urging her to run away to Taka-kopiri,
and to take him for her lord; she had seen him, and liked him
well; he was a great chief, and had abundance of food of the
best kind on his estates; plenty of potted birds of all kinds;
and kiwi, and kiore and weka, and eels,
and mackerel, and crayfish; in short, he had abundance of all
kinds of food, and was rich in every sort of property.
As she thought of all this, the chief's young daughter continued
weeping and sobbing in the house, quite overcome with shame,
and when evening came she was still crying, but at night, she
said to herself: 'Now I'll be off, whilst all the men are fast
asleep'; so she got up and ran away, accompanied by her female
slave. The next morning when the sun rose they found she was
gone, and she had fled so far, that those who were sent to seek
her came to the footprints of herself and her slave; their edges
had so sunk down that the pursuers could not tell how long it
was since she had passed.
Wai-Puna was the village from which Te Kahu-rere-moa started,
and they had left Pu-korokoro behind them, and by the time it
was full daybreak they had reached Wai-taka-ruru, and as the
full rays of the sun shone on the earth, they were passing above
Poua-rua; then for a little time they travelled very fast and
reached Rawhaki, at the mouth of the river Piako; this they crossed
and pushed on for Opani, and thence those in pursuit of them
returned, they could follow them no farther; the tide also was
flowing, which stopped the pursuit.
Just then some of the canoes of the up-river country were
returning from Rua-wehea, and when the people in the canoes saw
her, they raised loud cries of 'Ho, ho! here's Te Kahu-reremoa,
here's the daughter of Paka'; she stepped into one of the canoes
with them, and the people kept crying out the whole way from
the mouth of the river up its course as they ascended it: 'Here's
Te Kahu-rere-moa'; and they rowed very fast, feeling alarmed
at having so great a chieftainess on board, and so confused were
they at her presence, that throughout the whole day they kept
on bending their heads down to their very paddles, as they pulled.
They stopped at Raupa, where the Awa-iti branches off to Tauranga,
and there they spent one night; and the next day they went over
the range towards Kati-kati: the people of Raupa urged her to
stop there for a little; she, however, would not, but driven
by the fond thoughts of her heart, she pressed onwards, and reached
the summit of the ridge of Hikurangi, and looked down upon Kati-kati,
and saw also Tauranga; then the young girl turned, and looked
round at the mountain at Otawa, and although she knew what it
was, she liking to hear his name, and of his greatness, spoke
to the people of the country, who, out of respect were accompanying
her, and asking, said: 'What is the name of yonder mountain?'and
they answered her: 'That is Otawa.' And the young girl asked
again: 'Is the country of that mountain rich in food?'and
they replied: 'Oh, there are found kiore, and kiwi,
and weka, and pigeons, and tui; why that mountain
is famed for the variety and number of birds that inhabit it.'
Then the young girl took courage, and asked once more: 'Whom
does all that fruitful country belong to?'and they told
her: 'The Wai-taha is the name of the tribe that inhabit that
country, and Taka-kopiri is the chief of it. He is the owner
of that mountain, and he is the great chief of the Wai-taha:
and when the people of that tribe collect food from the mountains,
they bear everything to him; the food of all those districts,
whatever it may be, belongs to that great lord alone.' When the
young girl heard all this, she said to the people: 'I and my
female slave are going there, to Otawa.' And the people said
to her: 'No; is that really the case?'and she said: 'Yes,
we are going there. Paka sent us there, that we should ask Taka-kopiri
to pay him a visit at Whare-kawa.' She said this to deceive the
people, and prevent them from stopping her; and immediately started
again upon her journey, and came down upon the sea-shore at Kati-kati.
The Waitaha, the tribe of Taka-kopiri, inhabited that village;
and as soon as they saw the young girl counng, there arose joyful
cries of 'Here is Kahu-rere-moa! Oh, here is the daughter of
Paka!'-and the people collected in crowds to gaze at the young
chieftainess; she rested at the village, and they immediately
began to prepare food, and when it was cooked, they brought it
to her, and she partook of it, and when she had done it was night-time;
then they brought plenty of firewood into the house, and made
up a clear fire, so that the house might be quite light, and
they all stood up to dance, that she might pass a cheerful evening.
After they had all danced, they continued soliciting Te Kahurere-moa
to stand up and dance also, whilst they sat looking on to see
how gracefully and beautifully she moved. Upon which she coyly
said: 'Ah, yes, that's all very well; do you want me to dance
indeed? At last, however, the young girl sprang up, and she had
hardly stretched forth her lovely arms in the attitude of the
dance before the people all cried out with surprise and pleasure
at her beauty and grace; her arms moved with an easy and rapid
action like that of swimming; her nimble lissom fingers were
reverted till their tips seemed to touch the backs of the palms
of her hands; and all her motions were so light, that she appeared
to float in the air; then might be seen, indeed, the difference
between the dancing of a nobly-born girl and a slave; the latter
being too often a mere throwing about of the body and of the
arms. Thus she danced before them; and when she had finished,
all the young men in the place were quite charmed with her, and
could think of nothing but of Te Kahu-rere-moa.
When night came on, and the people had dispersed to their
houses, the chief of the village came to make love to her, and
said, that upon account of her great beauty he wished her to
become his wife; but she at once started up sith her female slave,
and notwithstanding the darkness, they plunged straight into
the river, forded it, and proceeded upon their journey, leaving
the chief overwhelmed with shame and confusion, at the manner
in which Te Kahu-rere-moa had departed: however, away she went,
without any fearful thought, on her road to Tauranga, and by
daybreak they had reached the Wairoa. When the people of the
village saw her coming along in the dawn, they raised joyful
cries of 'Here is Te Kahu-rere-moa'; and some of Taka-kopiri's
people, who were there, would detain the young girl for a time:
so she rested, and ate, and was refreshed; thence she proceeded
along the base of the mountains of Otawa, and at night slept
at its foot; and when morning broke, she and her slave continued
their journey.
There, just at the same time, was Taka-kopiri coming along
the path, to sport in his forests at Otawa; his sport was spearing
birds, and right in the pathway there stood a tall forest tree
covered with berries, upon which large green pigeons had settled
in flocks to feed. The two girls came toiling along, with their
upper cloaks thrown round their shoulders like plaids, for the
convenience of travelling, the slave-girl carrying a basket of
food on her back for her mistress. As the girls drew near the
forest they heard the loud flapping of the wings of a pigeon,
for the young chief had struck one with his spear; so they stopped
at once, and Te Kahu-rere-moa said to her slave: 'Somebody is
there, just listen how that bird flaps its wings'; and her slave
answered: 'Yes, I hear it.' And Te Kahu-rere-moa said: 'That
was the flapping of the wings of a bird which somebody has speared';
and her slave replied: 'Yes, we had better go and see who it
is.' And they had not gone far before they heard a louder flap,
as the bird was thrown upon the ground; they at once approached
the spot, and seeing a heap of pigeons which had been killed
lying at the root of a tree, they sat down by them. Taka-kopiri
had observed them coming along, and as he watched the girls from
the tree, he said to himself: 'These girls are travelling, and
they come from a long distance, for their cloaks are rolled over
their shoulders like plaids; they are not from near here; had
they come from the neighbourhood they would have worn their cloaks
hanging down in the usual way.'
Then the young chief came down from the tree, leaving his
spear swinging to a bough: as he was descending the girls saw
him, and the slave knew him at once at a distance, and said:
'Oh, my young mistress, that is Taka-kopiri'; and Te Kahu-reremoa
said: 'No, no, it is not indeed'; but the slave said: 'Yes, it
is he, I saw him when he came to Hauraki'; and the young girl
said: 'You are right, it is Taka-kopiri'; and her slave said:
'Yes, yes, this is the young chief who has caused us to come
all this distance.' By this time he had reached the ground, and
he and the girls cried out at the same time to each other: 'Welcome,
welcome'; and the young man came up to them, and stooped down,
and pressed his nose to the nose of each of them. Te Kahu-rere-moa
felt and knew whose face touched hers, but Taka-kopiri did not
know whose nose he had pressed.
Then he said to them: 'We had better go to my village, which
is on the other side of the forest'; and he pressed them to go,
and the girls consented to go to the village with him; as they
went along the path, he kept urging them to make haste, and Te
Kahu-rere-moa thought that he might still not know who she was,
or he would never speak so impatiently, and tell her to make
haste, so she made an excuse to arrange her dress, and stopped
behind on one side of the path, in order that the young chief
might have an opportunity of asking her slave who she was: as
soon as he saw she had left the path, he went on with her slave
a little distance until they had got over a rising ground, and
then he asked her, saying: 'Who is your mistress?'and the
slave answered: 'Is it my young mistress that you are asking
about?'and the young chief said: 'Yes, it is one nobly-born
person asking after another'; and the slave said: 'Well, if it
is my mistress you arc asking about, the young lady's name is
Te Kahu-rere-moa'; and he answered her: 'What! Is this Te Kahu-rere-moa,
the daughter of Paka?'and the slave replied: 'Yes, do you
think there are more Pakas than one, or more Te Kahu-rere-moas
than one?this is really she'; and the young chief said:
'Well, who would ever have suspected that this was she, or that
a young girl from so distant a place could have reached this
country? Let us sit down here at once, and wait until she comes
up.' In a very little time she appeared coming along to them,
and the young chief called out to her: 'You had really better
make haste, or you'll suffer from want of food, for it is still
a long distance from this place to my village'; and when she
had reached them he said: 'Do you follow me, and pray do not
lose time.' Then away he ran, and as soon as he got in sight
of his own fortress, he began to call loudly to his people as
he ran: 'Te Kahu-rere-moa has arrived; the daughter of Paka is
come.' 'Why', said some of them, 'our master is in love with
that girl, and has lost his senses, and thinks she is really
here'; but he kept calling out as he ran: 'Here comes Te Kahu-rere-moa,
here comes the daughter of Paka.' Then some of them said: 'Why,
after all, it must be true, or he would not continue calling
it out in that way'; and others said; 'But who could ever believe
that a young girl could have travelled to such a distance? the
place is strange to her, and we are all strangers to her, perhaps,
after all, it is only the wind wafting up from afar this name
which we hear called out in our ears.' However, they all either
climbed up on the defences, or went outside to see who was coming;
and as soon as they saw the young girl approaching, they began
to wave their garments, and to sing, in songs of welcome:
Welcome, welcome,thou who comest
From afar, from beyond the far horizon;
Our dearest child hath brought thee thence;
Welcome, oh, welcome here.'
And each of the many hundreds of persons who had come out
to welcome her, as she passed his residence, prayed her to stop
there; but Taka-kopiri continued to say to her: 'Press on, follow
close, quite close, after me'; and so he led her through the
throng of people, each of whom felt so moved towards the young
girl, that, although they were in the very presence of their
young lord, they could not help soliciting her to stop at each
house as she came by. At length she arrived at Taka-kopiri's
dwelling, and there for the first time she stopped and sat down,
and the people came thronging in crowds to gaze upon her; and
they spread before the two young girls food in abundance, the
birds which the young chief had taken upon the mountains; and
a feast was made for the crowd that surrounded them; thus they
remained feasting, and admirmg that young girl, and when the
sun sank below the horizon, they were still sitting there gazing
upon her; the youths of the village thought they could never
be weary of looking at her, but none dare to utter one word of
love for fear of Taka-kopiri. Before a month had passed she was
married to the young chief, and she bore him a daughter, named
Tuparahaki, from whom in eleven generations, or in about 275
years have sprung all the principal chiefs of the Ngati-Paoa
tribe who are now alive (in 1853).
The Two Sorcerers
KIKI was a celebrated sorcerer, and
skilled in magical arts; he lived upon the river Waikato. The
inhabitants of that river still have this proverb: 'The offspring
of Kiki wither shrubs'. This proverb had its origin in the circumstance
of Kiki being such a magician, that he could not go abroad in
the sunshine; for if his shadow fell upon any place not protected
from his magic, it at once became tapu, and all the plants
there withered.
This Kiki was thoroughly skilled in the practice of sorcery.
If any parties coming up the river called at his village in their
canoes as they paddled by, he still remained quietly at home,
and never troubled himself to come out, but just drew back the
sliding door of his house, so that it might stand open, and the
strangers stiffened and died; or even as canoes came paddling
down from the upper parts of the river, he drew back the sliding
wooden shutter to the window of his house, and the crews on board
of them were sure to die.
At length, the fame of this sorcerer spread exceedingly, and
resounded through every tribe, until Tamure, a chief who dwelt
at Kawhia, heard with others, reports of the magical powers of
Kiki, for his fame extended over the whole country. At length
Tamure thought he would go and contend in the arts of sorcery
with Kiki, that it might be seen which of them was most skilled
in magic; and he arranged in his own mind a fortunate season
for his visit.
When this time came, he selected two of his people as his
companions, and he took his young daughter with him also; and
they all crossed over the mountain range from Kawhia, and came
down upon the river Waipa, which runs into the Waikato, and embarking
there in a canoe, paddled down the river towards the village
of Kiki; and they managed so well, that before they were seen
by anybody, they had arrived at the landing-place. Tamure was
not only skilled in magic, but he was also a very cautious man;
so whilst they were still afloat upon the river, he repeated
an incantation of the kind called mata-tawhito, to preserve
him safe from all arts of sorcery; and he repeated other incantations,
to ward off spells, to protect him from magic, to collect good
genii round him, to keep off evil spirits, and to shield him
from demons; when these preparations were all fmished, they landed,
and drew up their canoe on the beach, at the landing-place of
Kiki.
As soon as they had landed, the old sorcerer called out to
them that they were welcome to his village, and invited them
to come up to it: so they went up to the village: and when they
reached the square in the centre, they seated themselves upon
the ground; and some of Kiki's people kindled fire in an enchanted
oven, and began to cook food in it for the strangers. Kiki sat
in this house, and Tamure on the ground just outside the entrance
to it, and he there availed himself of this opportunity to repeat
incantations over the threshold of the house, so that Kiki might
be enchanted as he stepped over it to come out. When the food
in the enchanted oven was cooked, they pulled off the coverings,
and spread it out upon clean mats. The old sorcerer now made
his appearance out of his housc and he invited Taniure to come
and eat food with him; but the food was all enchanted, and his
object in asking Tamure to eat with him was, that the enchanted
food might kill him; therefore Tamure said that his young daughter
was very hungry, and would eat of the food offered to them; he
in the meantime kept on repeating incantations of the kind called
mata-tawhito, whakangungu, and parepare,
protections against enchanted food, and as she ate she also continued
to repeat them; even when she stretched out her hand to take
a sweet potato, or any other food, she dropped the greater part
of it at her feet, and hid it under her clothes, and then only
ate a little bit. After she had done, the old sorcerer, Kiki,
kept waiting for Tamure to begin to eat also of the enchanted
food, that he might soon die. Kiki having gone into his house
again, Tamure still sat on the ground outside the door, and as
he had enchanted the threshold of the house, he now repeated
incantations which might render the door enchanted also, so that
Kiki nught be certain not to escape when he passed out of it.
By this time Tamure's daughter had quite finished her meal, but
neither her father nor either of his people had partaken of the
enchanted food.
Tamure now ordered his people to launch his canoe, and they
paddled away, and a little time after they had left the village,
Kiki became unwell; in the meanwhile, Tamure and his people were
paddling homewards in all haste, and as they passed a village
where there were a good many people on the river's bank, Tamure
stopped, and said to them: 'If you should see any canoe pulling
after us, and the people in the canoe ask you, have you seen
a canoe pass up the river, would you be good enough to say: "Yes,
a canoe has passed by here"?and then, if they ask
you: "How far has it got?" would you be good enough
to say: "Oh, by this time it has got very far up the river"?'and
having thus said to the people of that village, Tamure paddled
away again in his canoe With all haste.
Some time after Tamure's party had left the village of Kiki,
the old sorcerer became very ill indeed, and his people then
knew that this had been brought about by the magical arts of
Tamure, and they sprang into a canoe to follow after him, and
puffed up the river as hard as they could; and when they reached
the village where the people were on the river's bank, they called
out and asked them: 'How far has the canoe reached, which passed
up the river?'-and the villagers answered: 'Oh, that canoe must
got very far up the river by this time.' The people in the canoe
that was pursuing Tamure, upon hearing this, returned again to
their own village, and Kiki died from the incantations of Tamure.
Some of Kiki's descendants are still living-one of them, named
Mokabi, recently died at Tau-ranga-a-Ruru, but Te Maioha is still
living on die river Waipa. Yes, some of the descendants of Kiki,
whose shadow withered trees, are still living. He was indeed
a great sorcerer: he overcame every other sorcerer until he met
Tamure, but be was vanquished by him, and had to bend the knee
before him.
Tamure has also some descendants living, amongst whom are
Mahu and Kiake of the Ngati-Mariu tribe; these men arc also skilled
in magic: if a father skilled in magic died, he left his incantation
to his children; so that if a man was skilled in sorcery, it
was known that his children would have a good knowledge of the
same arts, as they were certain to have derived it froni their
parent.
The Magical Wooden Head
Ko Nga Ptihi a Puarata Raua Ko Tautohito
THIS head bewitched all persons who
approached the hill where the fortress in which it was kept was
situated, so that, from fear of it, no human being dared to approach
the place, which was thence named the Sacred Mount.
Upon that mount dwelt Puarata and Tautohito with their carved
head, and its fame went through all the country, to the river
Tamaki, and to Kaipara, and to the tribes of Nga-Puhi, to Akau,
to Waikato, to Kawhia, to Mokau, to Hauraki, and to Tauranga;
the exceeding great fame of the powers of that carved head spread
to every part of Ao-tea-roa, or the northern island of New Zealand;
everywhere reports were heard , that so great were its magical
powers, none could escape alive from them; and although many
warriors and armies went to the Sacred Mount to try to destroy
the sorcerers to whom the head belonged, and to carry it off
as a genius for their own district, that its magical powers might
be subservient to them, they all perished in the attempt. In
short, no mortal could approach the fortress, and live; even
parties of people who were travelling along the forest track,
to the northwards towards Muri-whenua, all died by the magical
powers of that head; whether they went in large armed bodies,
or simply as quiet travellers, their fate was alikethey all perished
from its magical influence, somewhere about the place where the
beaten track passes over Wai-matuku.
The deaths of so many persons created a great sensation in
the country, and, at last, the report of these things reached
a very powerful sorcerer named Hakawau, who, confiding in his
magical arts, said he was resolved to go and see this magic head,
and the sorcerers who owned it. So, without delay, he called
upon all the genii who were subservient to him, in order that
he might be thrown into an enchanted sleep, and see what his
fate in this undertaking would be; and in his slumber he saw
that his genius would triumph in the encounter, for it was so
lofty and mighty, that in his dream its head reached the heavens,
whilst its feet remained upon earth.
Having by his spells ascertained this, he at once started
on his journey, and the district through which he travelled was
that of Akau; and, confiding in his own enchantments, he went
fearlessly to try whether his arts of sorcery would not prevail
over the magic head, and enable him to destroy the old sorcerer
Puarata.
He took with him one friend, and went along the sea-coast
towards the Sacred Mount, and passed through Whanga-roa, and
followed the sea-shore to Rangikalm and Kahuwera, and came out
upon the coast again at Karoro-uma-nui, and arrived at Maraetai;
there was a fortified village, the people of which endeavoured
to detain Hakawau and his friend until they rested themselves
and partook of a little food; but he said: 'We ate food on the
road, a short distance behind us; we are not at all hungry or
weary.' So they would not remain at Maraetai, but went straight
on until they reached Putataka, and they crossed the river there,
and proceeded along the beach to Ruku-wai; neither did they stop
there, but on they went, and at last reached Waitara.
When they got to Waitara, the friend who accompanied Hakawau
began to get alarmed, and said: 'Now we shall perish here, I
fear'; but they went safely on, and reached Te Weta; there the
heart of Hakawau's friend began to beat again, and he said: 'I
feel sure that we shall perish here'; however they passed by
that place too in safety, and on they went, and at length they
reached the most fatal place of all-Wai-matuku. Here they smelt
the stench of the carcasses of the numbers who had been previously
destroyed; indeed the stench was so bad that it was quite suffocating,
and they both now said: 'This is a fearful place; we fear we
shall perish here.' However, Hakawau kept on unceasingly working
at his enchantments, and repeating incantations, which might
ward off the attacks of evil genii, and which might collect good
genii about them, to protect them from the malignant spirits
of Puarata, lest these should injure them: thus they passed over
Wai-matuku, looking with horror at the many corpses strewed about
the beach, and in the dense fern and bushes which bordered the
path; and as they pursued their onward journey, they expected
death every moment.
Nevertheless they died not on the dreadful road, but went
straight along the path till they came to the place where it
passes over some low hills, from whence they could see the fortress
which stood upon Puke-tapu. Here they sat down and rested, for
the first time since they had commenced their journey. They had
not yet been seen by the watchmen of the fortress. Then Hakawau,
with his incantations, sent forth many genii, to attack the spirits
who kept watch over the fortress and magic head of Puarata. Some
of his good genii were sent by Hakawau in advance, whilst he
charged others to follow at some distance. The incantations by
the power of which these genii were sent forth by Hakawau was
a whangai. The genii he sent in front were ordered immediately
to begin the assault. As soon as the spirits who guarded the
fortress of Puarata saw the others, they all issued out to attack
them; the good genii then feigned a retreat the evil ones following
them, and whilst they were thus engaged in the pursuit some of
the thousands of good genii, who had last been sent forth by
Hakawau, stormed the fortress now left without defenders; when
the evil spirits, who had been led away in the pursuit, turned
to protect the fortress, they found that the genii of Hakawau
had already got quite close to it, and the good genii of Hakawau
without trouble caught them one after the other, and thus all
the spirits of the old sorcerer Puarata were utterly destroyed.
When all the evil spirits who had been subject to the old
sorcerer had been thus destroyed, Hakawau walked straight up
towards the fortress of this fellow, in whom spirits had dwelt
as thick as men stow themselves in a canoe, and whom they had
used in like manner to carry them about. When the watchmen of
the fortress, to their great surprise, saw strangers coming,
Puarata hurried to his magic head, to call upon it; his supplication
was after this mariner: 'Strangers come here! strangers come
here! Two strangers come! two strangers come!' But it uttered
only a low wailing sound; for since the good genii of Hakawau
had destroyed the spirits who served Puarata, the old sorcerer
addressed in vain his supplications to the magic head, it could
no longer raise aloud its powerful voice as in former times,
but uttered only low moans and wails. Could it have cried out
with a loud voice, straightway Hakawau and his friend would both
have perished; for thus it was, when armies and travellers had
in other times passed the fortress, Puarata addressed supplications
to his magic head, and when it cried out with a mighty voice,
the strangers all perished as they heard it.
Hakawau and his friend had, in the meantime, continued to
walk straight to the fortress. When they drew near it, Hakawau
said to his friend: 'You go directly along the path that leads
by the gateway into the fortress; as for me, I will show my power
over the old sorcerer, by climbing right over the parapet and
palisades': and when they reached the defences of the place,
Hakawau began to climb over the palisades of the gateway. When
the people of the place saw this, they were much exasperated,
and desired him, in an angry manner, to pass underneath the gateway,
along the pathway which was common to all, and not to dare to
climb over the gateway of Puarata and of Tautohito; but Hakawau
went quietly on over the gateway, without paying the least attention
to the angry words of those who were calling out to him, for
he felt quite sure that the two old sorcerers were not so skilful
in magical arts as he was; so Hakawau persisted in going direct
to all the most holy places of the fortress, where no person
who had not been made sacred might enter.
After Hakawau. and his friend had been for a short time in
the fortress, and had rested themselves a little, the people
of the place began to cook food for them; they still continued
to sit resting themselves in the fortress for a long time, and
at length Hakawau said to his friend: 'Let us depart.' Directly
his servant heard what his master said to him, he jumped up at
once and was ready enough to be off. Then the people of the place
called out to them not to go immediately, but to take some food
first; but Hakawau answered: 'Oh, we ate only a little while
ago; not far from here we took some food.' So Hakawau would not
remain longer in the fortress, but departed, and as he started,
he smote his hands on the threshold of the house in which they
had rested, and they had hardly got well outside of the fortress
before every soul in it was deadnot a single one of them
was left alive.
Kahukura and the Fairies
Ko Te Korero Mo Nga Patupaiarehe
ONCE upon a time, a man of the name
of Kahukura wished to pay a visit to Rangiawhia, a place lying
far to the northward, near the country of the tribe called Te
Rarawa. Whilst he lived at his own village, he was continually
haunted by a desire to visit that place. At length he started
on his journey, and reached Rangiawhia, and as he was on his
road, be passed a place where some people had been cleaning mackerel,
and he saw the inside of the fish lying all about the sand on
the sea-shore: surprised at this, he looked about at the marks,
and said to himself: 'Oh, this must have been done by some of
the people of the district.' But when he came to look a little
more narrowly at the footmarks, he saw that the people who had
been fishing had made them in the night-time, not that morning,
nor in the day; and he said to himself: 'These are no mortals
who have been fishing herespirits must have done this;
had they been men, some of the reeds and grass which they sat
on in their canoe would have been lying about.' He felt quite
sure from several circumstances, that spirits or fairies had
been there; and after observing everything well, he returned
to the house where he was stopping. He, however, held fast in
his heart what he had seen, as something very striking to tell
all his friends in every direction, and as likely to be the means
of gaining knowledge which might enable him to find out something
new.
So that night he returned to the place where he had observed
all these things, and just as he reached the spot, back had come
the fairies too, to haul their net for mackerel; and some of
them were shouting out: 'The net here! the net here!' Then a
canoe paddled off to fetch the other in which the net was laid,
and as they dropped the net into the water, they began to cry
out: 'Drop the net in the sea at Ranglawhia, and haul it at Mamaku.
These words were sung out by the fairies, as an encouragement
in their work and from the joy of their hearts at their sport
in fishing.
As the fairies were dragging the net to the shore, Kahukura
managed to mix amongst them, and hauled away at the rope; he
happened to be a very fair man, so that his skin was almost as
white as that of these fairies, and from that cause he was not
observed by them. As the net came close in to the shore, the
fairies began to cheer and shout: 'Go out into the sea some of
you, in front of the rocks, lest the nets should be entangled
at Tawatawauia by Teweteweuia', for that was the name of a rugged
rock standing out from the sandy shore; the main body of the
fairies kept hauling at the net, and Kahukura pulled away in
the midst of them.
When the first fish reached the shore, thrown up in the ripple
driven before the net as they hauled it in, the fairies had not
yet remarked Kahukura, for he was almost as fair as they were.
It was just at the very first peep of dawn that the fish were
all landed, and the fairies ran hastily to pick them up from
the sand, and to haul the net up on the beach. They did not act
with their fish as men do, dividing them into separate loads
for each, but every one took up what fish he liked, and ran a
twig through their gills, and as they strung the fish, they continued
calling out: 'Make haste, run here, all of you, and finish the
work before the sun rises.'
Kahukura kept on stringing his fish with the rest of them.
He had only a very short string, and, making a slip-knot at the
end of it, when he had covered the string with fish, he lifted
them up, but had hardly raised them from the ground when the
slip-knot gave way from the weight of the fish, and off they
fell; then some of the fairies ran good-naturedly to help him
to string his fish again, and one of them tied the knot at the
end of the string for him, but the fairy had hardly gone after
knotting it, before Kahukura had unfastened it, and again tied
a slip-knot at the end; then he began stringing his fish again,
and when he had got a great many on, up he lifted them, and off
they slipped as before. This trick he repeated several times,
and delayed the fairies in their work by getting them to knot
his string for him, and put his fish on it. At last full daylight
broke, so that there was light enough to distinguish a man's
face, and the fairies saw that Kahukura was a man; then they
dispersed in confusion, leaving their fish and their net, and
abandoning their canoes, which were nothing but stems of the
flax. In a moment the fairies started for their own abodes; in
their hurry, as has just been said, they abandoned their net,
which was made of rushes; and off the good people fled as fast
as they could go. Now was first discovered the stitch for netting
a net, for they left theirs with Kahukura, and it became a pattern
for him. He thus taught his children to make nets, and by them
the Maori race were made acquainted with that art, which they
have now known from very remote times.
Te Kanawa's Adventure with the Fairies
TE KANAWA, a chief of Waikato, was
the man who fell in with a troop of fairies upon the top of Puke-more,
a high hill in the Waikato district.
This chief happened one day to go out to catch kiwi with his
dogs, and when night came on he found himself right at the top
of Puke-more. So his party made a fire to give them light, for
it was very dark. They had chosen a tree to sleep undera very
large tree, the only one fit for their purpose that they could
find; in fact, it was a very convenient sleeping-place, for the
tree had immense roots, sticking up high above the ground: they
slept between these roots, and made the fire beyond them.
As soon as it was dark they heard loud voices, like the voices
of people coming that way; there were the voices of men, of women,
and of children, as if a very large party of people were coming
along. They looked for a long time, but could see nothing; till
at last Te Kanawa knew that noise must proceed from fairies.
His people were all dreadfully frightened, and would have run
away if they could; but where could they run to? They were in
the midst of a forest, on the top of a lonely mountain, and it
was dark night.
For long time the voices grew louder and more distinct as
the fairies drew nearer and nearer, until they came quite close
to the fire; Te Kanawa and his party were half dead with fright.
At last the fairies approached to look at Te Kanawa, who was
a very handsome fellow. To do this, they kept peeping slily over
the large roots of the tree under which the hunters were lying,
and kept constantly looking at Te Kanawa, whilst his companions
were quite insensible from fear. Whenever the fire blazed up
brightly, off went the fairies and hid themselves, peeping out
from behind stumps and trees; and when it burnt low, back they
came close to it, merrily singing as they moved:
A sudden thought struck Te Kanawa that he might induce them
to go away if he gave them all the jewels he had about him; so
he took off a beautiful little hei tiki, carved in greenstone,
which he wore as a neck ornament, and a precious carved greenstone
ear-drop from his ear. Ah, Te Kanawa was only trying to amuse
and please them to save his life, but all the time he was nearly
frightened to death. However, the fairies did not rush on the
men to attack them, but only came quite close to look at them.
As soon as Te Kanawa had taken off his neck ornament, and pulled
out his greenstone pendant, and his other ornament, made of a
tooth of the tiger-shark, he spread them out before the fairies,
and offered them to the multitude who were sitting all round
about the place; and thinking it better the fairies should not
touch him, he took a stick, and fixing it into the ground, hung
his neck ornament and ear-rings upon it.
As soon as the fairies had ended their song, they took the
shadows of the pendants, and handed them about from one to
[1. Te Wherowhero did not remember the whole song, but that
this was the concluding verse; it was probably in allusion to
their coming to peep at Te Kanawa.]
the other, until they had passed through the whole party,
which then suddenly disappeared, and nothing more was seen of
them.
The fairies carried off with them the shadows of all the jewels
of Te Kanawa, but they left behind them his greenstone neck ornament
and his pendants, so that he took them back again, the hearts
of the fairies being quite contented at getting the shadows alone;
they saw, also, that Te Kanawa was an honest, well-dispositioned
fellow. However, the next morning, as soon as it was light, he
got down the mountain as fast as he could without stopping to
hunt longer for kiwi.
The fairies are a very numerous people; merry, cheerful, and
always singing, like the cricket. Their appearance is that of
human beings, nearly resembling a European's; their hair being
very fair, and so is their skin. They are very different from
the Maoris, and do not resemble them at all.
Te Kanawa had died before any Europeans arrived in New Zealand.
The Loves of Takarangi and Rau-mahora
THERE was, several generations since,
a chief of the Taranaki tribe, named Rangi-ra-runga. His pa
was called Whakarewa; it was a large pa, renowned
for the strength of it fortifications. This chief had a very
beautiful daughter, whose name was Rau-mahora; she was so celebrated
for her beauty that the fame of it had reached all parts of these
islands, and had, therefore, come to the ears of Te Rangi-apiti-rua,
a chief of the Ngati-Awa tribes, to whom belonged the pa of Puke-ariki,
on the hill where the Governor's house stood in New Plymouth.
This chief had a son named Takarangi; he was the hero of his
tribe. He, too, naturally heard of the beauty of Rau-mahora;
and it may be that his heart sometimes dwelt long on the thoughts
of such great loveliness.
Now in those days long past, there arose a war between the
tribes of Te Rangi-apiti-rua and of the father of Rau-mahora;
and the army of the Ngati-Awa tribes marched to Taranaki, to
attack the pa of Rangi-ra-runga, and the army invested
that fortress, and sat before it night and day, yet they could
not take it; they continued nevertheless constantly to make assaults
upon it, and to attack the garrison of the fortress, so that
its inhabitants became worn out from want of provisions and water,
and many of them were near dying.
At last the old chief of the pa, Rangi-ra-runga, overcome
by thirst, stood on the top of the defences of the pa, and cried
out to the men of the enemy's army: 'I pray you to give me one
drop of water.' Some of his enemies, pitying the aged man, said:
'Yes'; and one ran with a calabash to give him water. But the
majority being more hard-hearted were angry at this, and broke
the calabash in his hands, so that not a drop of water reached
the poor old man; and this was done several times, whilst his
enemies continued disputing amongst themselves.
The old chief still stood on the top of the earthen wall of
the fortress, and he saw the leader of the hostile force, with
the symbols of his rank fastened on his head: he wore a long
white comb, made from the bone of a whale, and a plume of the
long downy feathers of the white heron, the emblems of his chieftainship.
Then was heard by all, the voice of the aged man as he shouted
to him from the top of the wafl: 'Who art thou? And the other
cried out to him: 'Lo, he who stands here before you is Takarangi.'
And the aged chief of the pa called down to him: 'Young
warrior, art thou able to still the wrathful surge which foams
on the hidden rocks of the shoal of O-rongo-mai-ta-Kupe?' meaning:
'Hast thou, although a chief, power to calm the wrath of these
fierce men? Then proudly replied to him the young chief: 'The
wrathful surge shall be stilled; this arm of mine is one which
no dog dares to bite', meaning that no plebeian hand dared touch
his arm, made sacred by his deed and rank, or to dispute his
will. But what Takarangi was really thinking in his heart was:
'That dying old man is the father of Rau-mahora, of that so lovely
maid. Ah, how I should grieve if one so young and innocent should
die tormented with the want of water.' Then he arose, and slowly
went to bring water for that aged man, and for his youthful daughter;
and he filled a calabash, dipping it up from the cool spring
which gushes up from the earth, and is named Oringi. No word
was spoken, or movement made, by the crowd of fierce and angry
men, but all, resting upon their arms, looked on in wonder and
in silence. Calm lay the sea, that was before so troubled, all
timid and respectful in the lowly hero's presence; and the water
was taken by Takarangi, and by him was held up to the aged chief;
then was heard by all, the voice of Takarangi, as he cried aloud
to him, 'There; said I not to you: "No dog would dare to
bite this hand of mine?" Behold the water for you-for you
and for that young girl.' Then they drank, both of them, and
Takarangi gazed eagerly at the young girl, and she too looked
eagerly at Takarangi; long time gazed they, each one at the other;
and as the warriors of the army of Takarangi looked on, lo, he
had climbed up and was sitting at the young maiden's side; and
they said amongst themselves: 'O comrades, our lord Takarangi
loves war, but one would think he likes Rau-mahora almost as
well.'
At last a sudden thought struck the heart of the aged chief,
of the father of Rau-mahora; so he said to his daughter: 'O my
child, would it be pleasing to you to have this young chief for
a husband?'and the young girl said: 'I like him.' Then
the old man consented that his daughter should be given as a
bride to Takarangi, and he took her as his wife. Thence was that
war brought to an end, and the army of Takarangi dispersed, and
they returned each man to his own village, and they came back
no more to make war against the tribes of Taranakifor ever
were ended their wars against them.
And the descendants of Rau-mahora dwell here in Wellington.
They are Te Puni, and all his children, and his relatives. For
Takarangi and Rau-mahora had a daughter named Rongo-uaroa, who
was married to Te Whiti; and they had a son named Aniwaniwa,
who married Tawhirikura; and they had a son named Rerewha-i-te-rangi,
and he married Puku, who was the mother of Te Puni.
Te Ponga's Elopement with Puhi-huia
THERE was formerly a large fortified
town upon Mount Eden; its defences were massive and strong, and
a great number of persons inhabited the town. In the days of
olden time a war was commenced by the tribes of Awhitu and of
Waikato, against the people who inhabited the town at Mount Eden
or Maunga-whau.
There they engaged in a fierce war: one side first persisted
in their efforts for victory, until they were successful in beating
the other party; then the other side in their turn succeeded
in resisting their enemies, and gained a victory in their turn;
thus the tribes of Waikato did not succeed in destroying their
enemies as they desired.
After this the people of Waikato thought, for a long time:
'Well, what had we better do now to destroy these enemies of
ours? And seeing no way to accomplish this, they deternuned to
make peace with them; so, at last, they arranged a peace, and
it appeared to be a sure one.
When this peace had been made, Te Ponga, a chief from Awhitu,
and one of the fiercest enemies of the people of that town, went,
attended by a large company, to Maunga-whau, and whilst he was
yet a long way off, he and his party were seen coniMg along by
the people of the fortified town, and they ran to the gates of
the fortress, calling out: 'Welcome, oh, welcome, strangers from
afar!'and they waved their garments to them; and the strangers,
encouraged by these cries, came straight on to the town until
they reached it, and then walked direct to the large court-yard
in front of the house of the chief of the town, and there they
all seated themselves.
The inhabitants being all now assembled in the town as well
as the strangers, the chiefs of each party stood up and made
speeches, and when they had concluded this part of the ceremony,
the women lighted fires to cook food for the strangers, and when
the ovens were heated, they put the food in and covered them
up. In a very short time the food was all cooked, when they opened
the ovens, placed the food in baskets, and ranged it in a long
pile before the visitors; then, separating it into shares, one
of their chiefs called aloud the name of each of the visitors
to whom a share was intended, and when this allotment was completed
they fell to at the feast.
The strangers, however, ate very slowly, knowing they had
better take but little food, in order not to surfeit themselves,
and so that their waists might be slim when they stood up in
the ranks of the dancers, and that they might look as slight
as if their waists were almost severed in two; and as the strangers
sat they kept on thinking: 'When will night come and the dance
begin? and the thoughts of the others were of the same kind.
As soon as it began to get dark, the inhabitants of the village
rapidly assembled, and when they had all collected in the courtyard
of the house, which was occupied by the strangers, they stood
up for the dance, and rank after rank of dancers was duly ranged
in order, until at length all was in readiness.
Then the dancers began, and whilst they sprang nimbly about,
Puhi-huia, the young daughter of the chief of the village stood
watching a good opportunity to bound forward before the assembly,
and made the gestures usual with dancers, since she knew that
she could not dance so well, or so becomingly, if she pressed
on before the measure was completed, but that when the beating
time by the assembly With their feet and hands, and the deep
voices of the men, were all in exact unison, was the fitting
moment for her to bound forward into the dance, with the becoming
gestures.
Then, just as they were all beating time together, Puhi-huia
perceived the proper moment had come, and forth she sprang before
the assembled dancers; first she bends her head with many gestures
towards the people upon the one side, and then towards those
upon the other, as she performed her part beautifully; her full
orbed eyes seemed clear and brilliant as the full moon rising
in the horizon, and whilst the strangers looked at the young
girl, they all were quite overpowered with her beauty; and Te
Ponga, their young chief, felt his heart grow wild with emotion,
when he saw so much loveliness before him. In the meanwhile the
people of the village went on dancing, until all the evolutions
of the dance were duly completed, when they paused.
Then up sprang the strangers to dance in their turn, and they
duly ranged themselves in order, rank behind rank of the dancers,
and began with their hands to beat time, and wbilst they thus
gave the time of the measure, the young chief, Te Ponga, stood
peeping over them and waiting a good opportunity for him to spring
forward, and in his turn make gestures; at last forth he bounded;
then he, too, bent his head with many gestures, first upon the
one side and then upon the other; indeed, he performed beautifully!
The people of the village were so surprised at his agility and
grace, that they could do nothing but admire him, and as for
the young girl Puhi-huia, her heart conceived a warm passion
for Te Ponga.
At length the dance concluded, and all dispersed, each to
the place where he was to rest; then, overcome with weariness,
they all reclined in slumber, except Te Ponga, who lay tossing
from side to side, unable to sleep, from his great love for the
maiden, and devising scheme after scheme by which he might have
an opportunity of conversing alone with her. At last he formed
a project, or rather it originated in the suggestions of his
slave, who said to his master: 'Sir, I have found out a plan
by which you may accomplish your wishes; listen to me whilst
I detail it to you. To-morrow evening, just at night-fall, as
you sit in the court-yard of the chief of the village, feign
to be very thirsty, and call to me to bring you a draught of
water; on my part, I will take care to be at a distance from
the place, but do you continue to shout loudly and angrily to
me: "Sirrah, I want water, fetch me some"; call loudly,
so that the father of the young girl may hear; then he will probably
say to his daughter: "My child, my child, why do you let
our guest call in that way for water, without running to fetch
some for him?" Then, when the young girl, in obedience to
her father's orders, runs down the hill to fetch water from the
fountain for you, do you follow her to the spring; there you
can uninterruptedly converse together; but when you rise to follow
the young girl, in order to prevent them from suspecting your
intentions, do you pretend to be in a great passion with me,
and speak thus: "Where's that deaf slave of mine? I'll go
and find the fellow. Ah! you will not hear when you do not like,
but I'll break your head for you, my fine fellow."'
Thus the slave advised his master, and they arranged fully
the plan of their proceedings; the next day Te Ponga went to
visit the chief of the village, and sat in his house watching
the young girl, and before long evening closed in, and they retired
to rest, and some time afterwards Te Ponga, pretending to be
thirsty, called out loudly to his slave: 'Halloa! sirrah, fetch
me some water'; but not a word did the slave answer him; and
Te Ponga continued to call out to him louder and louder, until
at last he seemed to become weary of shouting. When the chief
of the village heard him calling out in this way for water, he
at length said to his young daughter: 'My child, run and fetch
some water for our guest; why do you allow him to ao on calling
for water in that way, Without fetching some for him? Then the
maiden arose, and, taking a calabash went off to fetch water;
and no sooner did Te Ponga see her starting off than he too arose,
and weut out of the house, feigning by his voice and words to
be very angry with his slave, so that all might think he was
going to give him a beating; but as soon as be was out of the
house, he went straight off after the young girl; he did not,
indeed, well know the path which led to the fountain, but led
by the voice of the maiden, who tripped along the path singing
blithely and merrily as she went, Te Ponga followed the guidance
of her tones.
When the maiden arrived at the brink of the fountain and was
about to dip her calabash into it, she heard someone behind her,
and, turning suddenly round, ah! there stood a man close behind
her; yes, there was Te Ponga himself. She stood quite astonished
for some time, and at length asked: 'What can have brought you
here? He answered, 'I came here for a draught of water.' But
the girl replied: 'Ha, indeed! Did not I come here to draw water
for you? Why, then, did you come? Could not you have remained
at my father's house until I brought the water for you? Then
Te Ponga answered: 'You are the water that I thirsted for.' And
as the maiden listened to his words, she thought within herself:
'He, then, has fallen in love with me'; and she sat down, and
he placed himself by her side, and they conversed together, and
to each of them the words of the other seemed most pleasant and
engaging. Why need more be said? Before they separated they arranged
a time when they might escape together, and then each of them
returned to the village to wait for the occasion they had agreed
upon.
When the appointed time had arrived, he desired some chosen
men of his followers to go to the landing-place on Manuka harbour,
where the canoes were all hauled on shore, there to wait for
him; and Puhi-huia and he directed them when they got there to
prepare one canoe in which he and all his followers might escape;
he desired that this canoe should be launched and kept afloat
in the water with every paddle in its place, so that the moment
they embarked it might put off from the shore; he further directed
them to go round every one of the other canoes, to cut the lashings
which made the top sides fast to the hulls, and to pull out all
the plugs, so that those following them might be checked and
thrown into confusion at fitiding they had no canoes in which
to continue the pursuit. Those of his people to whom Te Ponga
gave these orders immediately departed, and did exactly as their
chief had directed diem.
The next morning Te Ponga having told his host that he must
return to his own country, all the people of the place assembled
to bid him farewell; and when they had all collected, the chief
of the fortress stood up, and, after a suitable speech, presented
his mere to Te Ponga as a parting gift, which might establish
and make sure the peace which they had concluded. Te Ponga in
his turn presented with the same ceremonies his mere to
the chief of the fortress; and when all the rites observed at
a formal parting were completed, Te Ponga and his followers arose,
and went upon their way: then the people of the place all arose
too, and accompanied them to the gates of the fortress to bid
them farewell; and as the strangers quitted the gates, the people
of the place cried aloud after them: 'Depart in peace! Depart
in peace! May you return in safety to your homes!'
Just before the strangers had started, Puhi-huia and some
of the young girls of the village stole a little way along the
road, so as to accompany the strangers some way on their path;
and when they joined them, the girls stepped proudly along by
the side of the band of strange warriors, laughing and joking
with them; at last they got some distance from the village, and
Puhi-huia's father, the chief of the place, seeing his daughter
was going so far, called out: 'Children, children, come back
here!' Then the other girls stopped and began to return towards
the village, but as to Puhi-huia, her heart beat but to the one
thought of escaping with her beloved Te Ponga. So she began to
run. She drew near to some large scoria rocks, and glided behind
them, and, when thus hidden from the view of those in the village,
she redoubled her speed; well done, well done, young girl! She
runs so fast that her body bends low as she speeds forward. When
Te Ponga saw Puhi-huia running in this hurried manner, he called
aloud to his men: 'What is the meaning of this? Let us be off
as fast as we can too.' Then began a swift flight, indeed, of
Te Ponga, and his followers, and of the young girl; rapidly they
flew, like a feather drifting before the gale, or as runs the
weka which has broken loose from a fowler's snare.
When the people of the village saw that their young chieftainess
was gone, there was a wild rushing to and fro in the village
for weapons, and whilst they thus lost their time, Te Ponga and
his followers, and the young girl, went unmolestedly upon their
way; and when the people of the fortress at last came out ready
for the pursuit, Te Ponga and his followers, and Puhi-hula, had
got far enough away, and before their pursuers had gained any
distance from the, fortress, Te Ponga and his people had almost
reached the landing-place at Manuka harbour, and by the time
the pursuing party had arrived near the landing-place, they had
embarked in their canoe, had grasped their paddles, and being
all ready, they dashed their paddles into the water, and shot
away, swift as a dart from a string, whilst they felt the sides
of the canoe shake from the force with which they drove it through
the water.
When the pursuers saw that the canoe had dashed off into Manuka
harbour, they laid hold of another canoe, and began to haul it
down towards the water, but as the lashings of the top sides
were cut, what was the use of their trying to haul it to the
sea? they dragged nothing but the top sides-there lay the bottom
of the canoe unmoved. Pursuit was impossible; the party that
had come to make peace escaped, and returned uninjured and joyful
to their own country, and went cheerfully upon their way, carrying
off with them the young chieftainess from their enemies, who
could only stand like fools upon the shore, stamping with rage
and threatening them in vain.
The Story of Te Huhuti[1]
NOW this woman, Te Huhuti, was just
like Hine-moa. As Hine-moa swam Lake Rotorua, so Te Huhuti swam
Lake Roto-a-Tara. She belonged to the Ngati-Kahu-ngunu tribe
and from her Te Hapuku is descended. The reason why she swam
the lake is that she had fallen in love with Te Whatuiapiti,
attracted by his handsome appearance.
She did not stop to consider the difficulty or the danger.
No; all she thought was, 'Although the lake is wide and deep,
what does it matter? Only let me try it and if I should sink,
never mind, but if I should succeed, all the better.' (Now, my
friend, just realize what this young girl had in her mind. She
had no hesitation because for a long time she had longed to see
this handsome young manthe darling of her heart.)
And so she swam and reached Te Whatuiapiti's home. As she
was swimming she was seen by his mother and the old lady was
[1. This legend was not given in the original English 1855
version of the text, but was included in the 1854 Maori edition.
The translation is by W.W. Bird.]
greatly surprised. Then she looked at Te Huhuti as she stepped
out of the water on to the shore. What a lovely skin, gleaming
like a white cliff! The girl slowly approached the old woman,
who could now see how lovely she was, like a sunbeam lingering
in the western sky.
As she came nearer the old woman said to Te Huhuti, 'You look
lovelier than ever, like the rocky cliffs or like a ray of the
setting sun.' The maiden kept silent. Then the old woman said,
'My dear, where are you going? And still there was no reply.
Again the question was asked, and again without success. Then
the old woman cried out, 'What nonsense! Why do you not answer
me?' Then the maiden opened her lips and said to the old woman,
'Where is the house of Te Whatuiapiti? The old woman said, 'This
is where we live, come along with me.' She took the girl by the
hand and they went on to Te Whatulapiti's house. He heard them
coming and at once arose. He looked at her and greeted her warmly,
as might be expected. He was glad at seeing the delight of his
heart, and the maidenwell, she was happy at having reached
Te Whatuiapiti with whom she had long been deeply in love.
And so they were married, and here are their descendants,
and right up to the present time they keep in memory the feat
of their ancestress Te Huhuti in swimming lake Roto-a-Tara, and
we celebrate it in song'Te Huhuti swam hither', etc.
You see that her descendants do not forget the part played
by their ancestress. Te Huhuti was drawn to Te Whatuiapiti because
of his personal attraction, but there were two other advantages
possessed by him-one we might personify as Tahu and the other
as Tu. Hence her reason for undertaking the journey across the
lake, as she thought that by marrying Te Whatuiapiti she would
share in these two, Tahu (the husband) for the harmony of peaceful
days, and Tu (the warrior) for the bold face needed outside the
home. Hence she was so keen to acquire Te Whatuiapiti as her
husband. |