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:

'Wherefore, then, oh! Tonga-nui,
Dost thou hold fast so obstinately below there?'

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 giants–Tama-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 god—he 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 reaches—before the enemy—Ngatoro-
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 
Hatupatu—everything 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 enough—the enemy break—fall back—fly; 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:

'Tis the post which stands above there;
'Tis the post which stands in the heavens,
Near Atutabi-ma-Rehua.'

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 island—on 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, beloved—paddle 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 ill—bring him here—rouse 
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 dead—not 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 
here—spirits 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:

'Here you come climbing over Mount Tirangi
To visit the handsome chief of Nga-Puhi,
Whom we have done with.'[1]

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 Taranaki—for 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 man—the 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 maiden—well, 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.