TRADITION, IDOLATRY, AND ROMANCE.

Origin of the Maoris—Te Kupe—First canoes—The runanga house—Maori carving—Renowned ancestors—Tama te Kapua—Stratagem of the stilts—Legend of the whale—The Arawa canoe—Noted braves—Mokia—A curious relic—Gods of the Arawas—Mokia by night—Hinemoa—A love song.

When I went to Te Ruapeka to view the runanga house, it was in company with Mr. C.O. Davis, a gentleman well-known throughout the colony as an accomplished Maori scholar, and as one who has done much to advance the spiritual welfare of the natives; and it was to his kindly assistance I am indebted for much of the information I gained on that occasion respecting the singular history of the Maori race, and the remarkable legends connected with the graven images of their curious temple of ancestor-worship.

From the earliest period of Maori history Te Ruapeka has been the principal home of the Ngatiwhakaue, a section of the great Arawa tribe, whose territory extends over the Lake Country to the East Coast. Attracted, as it were, from their first landing upon the island to the magnificent scenery of this portion of the newly discovered land, the Arawas made their homes among the lakes, whose very shores and mountains echo even to the present day with their songs and legends. Whence they and the remainder of their race came, or at what period they arrived from their mysterious dwelling-place beyond the sea, is one of those interesting events in connection with their history which have been lost in the dim vista of the past. The Maoris of the present day refer to Hawaiki as the fatherland of their race, and hence the proverb: I kune mai i Hawaiki te kune kai te kune tangata, "the seed of our coming is from Hawaiki, the seed of man"; but of the locality of this place, beside the belief that it was an island somewhere in the broad waters of the Pacific, absolutely nothing beyond conjecture is known. They have, however, a distinct tradition that their ancestors migrated to New Zealand in certain canoes, the names of which, with the principal historical events connected with them, have been handed down from father to son through countless generations,[20] and although these ancestral reminiscences may appear to the ordinary mind like a labyrinth of mythical fancies, since many of the incidents upon which they have been founded appear to have been dimmed and distorted by the march of time, yet when considered in connection with the rude monuments which serve to perpetuate their memory, they form, as it were, the missing links in the unwritten annals of a splendid, albeit savage, race of people, who by their singular intelligence and chivalrous valour will be remembered in the history of the world so long as the brilliant record of the rise and progress of the British Empire shall endure.

According to general tradition, the first of the Maori race to reach Aotearoa, as the North Island was termed by its original discoverers, was Te Kupe. This hero, who may be looked upon as a kind of Maori Columbus endowed with supernatural power, is said to have severed the North Island from the Middle Island, and thus to have formed the wide channel of water now known as Cook's Strait. His achievements are thus commemorated in a characteristic native song:—

I'll sing, I'll sing of Kupe, great and brave,
Who launch'd his bark and cross'd the mighty wave;
He—when the world from chaos rose to birth—
Divided into continents the earth;
He form'd the valleys, and the mountains too,
And gave the fruitful earth its vernal hue;
Alighting as a bird upon the deep,
He call'd the islands from their death-like sleep;
Then Kapiti and Mana[21] kiss'd the wave,
And Aropaoa[22] left its ocean grave;
These are the signs which my ancestor wrought,
When Aotearoa first his vision caught,
And now will I explore each nook and strand,
And take possession of this fertile land.[23]

When Te Kupe returned to Hawaiki, he gave such a glowing account of the size, beauty, and products of Aotearoa, that a fleet of canoes was immediately raised by his people to proceed to the newly discovered country.[24] Each canoe was under a separate navigator, and contained representatives of the principal Hawaikian tribes with their head chiefs and arikis, or high priests, and it was the final dispersion of these canoes to different parts of the North Island which gave rise to the great tribal divisions of the race as resented at the present day by the Arawas, the Ngapuhi,[25] the Waikatos, Ngatimaniapoto, Ngatituwharetoa, Ngatiawa, Ngatiruanui, Ngatihau, and others, with their various intertribal hapus, or families.

We found the runanga house to be a well-built structure, about seventy feet long, by forty feet in breadth. The carving about the portals was of a very elaborate kind, and formed an interesting specimen of native decorative art. On the left-hand side of the entrance was a grotesquely carved figure, about twenty feet high, of Pukaki, of the fifth generation of ancestors, and on the right-hand side was an equally remarkable one of Pimiomarama, also of the fifth generation.[26] At a short distance in front of the entrance was a tall square flag-staff of singular design, and at the bottom of it a figure of the chief Puruohutaiki elaborately tattooed in pink and white. He is represented as grasping a mere, and is said, according to Maori legend, to have been a noted ancestor in the mysterious land of Hawaiki, and to have lived three generations before Tama te Kapua, to whom the temple is dedicated.

MAORI CARVING

SPECIMEN OF MAORI CARVING.

Stepping inside the runanga house, a very curious sight presented itself. The roof, high and slanting, was supported by a decorated ridge-pole, while the rafters, painted in bright colours of red, black, and white, presented all those singular varieties of curved and twisted lines which form one of the most remarkable features in the varied designs of Maori decoration. In fact, it is the wonderful blending of the circle and sweeping curve which adds to the carving and painting of this ingenious race its special and most attractive charm, and places it far beyond that of any other savage people for beauty combined with a unique and graceful simplicity.

The lower walls of the temple were entirely surrounded by grotesque figures, representing renowned ancestors of the Arawa tribe, and whose genealogy dated back both before and after the landing of the first immigrants. All these singular effigies appeared at the first glance to have been carved after the same model, but, upon closer examination, it could be seen that each one had some peculiarity of feature, some distinctive turn or twist in the singular design of its elaborate carving, while each had some facial expression or bodily characteristic for which the particular hero represented was supposed to have been remarkable when in the flesh. One and all were depicted with distorted features, protruding tongues, and defiant mien, while their big staring eyes were formed of the pearly shell of the fresh-water mussel.

As already stated, the runanga house is dedicated to the memory of Tama te Kapua, the captain of the Arawa canoe. Before the canoe landed, he acted the part of a primitive Lothario, and won the favours of the wife of Ngatoroirangi, the ariki,[27] or chief priest of the war craft. Indeed, he would appear to have been both a "gallant captain and a bold." The effigy of this warrior occupies a central position on the left on entering, and, curious to relate, he is represented as standing on poutoto, or stilts. Now one of the legends connected with the eventful life of this adventurous navigator is very remarkable.

Ages ago there lived on the island of Hawaiki a chief named Uenuku, who had a garden filled with a fruit called poporo. Tama te Kapua went for that fruit at night-time on stilts. The tribe could not find out who it was that committed these midnight depredations. There were no foot-prints around. Taipo[28] was the man. At last they found Tama te Kapua up a tree in flagrante delicto, stilts and all. The natives cried out in exultation, "Ah, we will fell the tree, and catch him." Tama te Kapua replied with the greatest sangfroid, "If you fell the tree, and it falls on land, I shall escape; if it falls in the water, you will be able to capture me." He had, however, studied the question from a strategic point of view, and knew that it was "heads," he won; "tails," they lost. The tree fell into the water, but Tama te Kapua dodged his pursuers, and, striking out with his stilts, got off with a clean sheet.

It is not, however, for the above youthful escapade that the memory of Tama te Kapua has been handed down to posterity in Maori song and legend, but rather for what may be called the "stratagem of the whale," and which in its inception appears to have been quite equal to that of the "wooden horse" of classic memory.

When the crew of the Tainui canoe parted company with the crew of the Arawa canoe on the voyage from Hawaiki, the former came across a whale. They captured the whale, and secured it by means of a rope to a pohutukawa tree on the coast, hard by Whangaparaoa. Early on the morrow the Arawa canoe came along, and sighted the whale. Tama te Kapua resolved to annex the monster mammal. He could only do that, however, with any show of justice, by establishing a preemptive right to it. He was equal to the occasion. He fixed another rope to the whale, but in so subtle and crafty a way as to leave no room for doubt that the monarch of the sea had been first captured by his own crew. On the following day a dispute arose between the two crews as to who had captured the whale first, but Tama te Kapua pointed triumphantly to the way his own rope was "bent on," whereat the Tainui braves struck their colours, and sheered off. The Tainui canoe passed along the coast to the Tamaki River, where it was taken across the land to the Manukau, and thence by sea to Kawhia, where it was drawn up. The Arawa crew landed at Maketu, where they ate the whale.

The Arawa canoe is represented by a somewhat rude design upon the wall, fully manned with crew and fuglemen in full war-costume, while the prow is plumed and carved like those of the present day. The sun and moon are depicted in the heavens, and right ahead is a bright star, representing the brilliant constellation which is said to have guided Tama te Kapua and his followers to the shores of Aotearoa. Two trees, presumably intended to represent pohutukawas, are ahead of the canoe, and to one of these a whale is attached by a rope.

There were many grotesque warriors and noted braves, around and among them was a curious carved figure of Tutanekai, the lover of Hinemoa, with his putorino, or flute, in his mouth, and by the magic strains of which he caused the dark syren to swim, nymph-like, to his island in the lake. It was a singular instrument, about a foot long, pointed at both ends, and flattened out in the centre like a fish. Near to him was the effigy of Uenukukopako, father of Whakatira, who was in his turn father of Tutanekai, and with his tongue hanging far out of his mouth, his eyes glaring wide, and his enormous hands pressed across his stomach, he looked as if he were still suffering from the effects of his adventures in the Arawa canoe. Opposite was Whakatira, brother to Tama te Kapua. He is also represented on stilts, and is said to have been in partnership with his brother in the orchard-robbing business. Here also was Tiki, with a flute in his mouth. He was the friend and companion of Tutanekai. Near to him was Hurutirangi, grandson of Tutanekai. He is represented as grasping a curious weapon, the top of which was shaped like a bird's head. With this instrument he is said to have killed a chief called Wahiao, of another tribe. Near to the top of the central ridge-pole of the building was a curiously carved figure of the warrior Whakarra, with his feet resting on the head of a dog called potokatawhiti, and whose memory is curiously blended with the history of the tribe. At the bottom of the pole was a squat, dwarf-looking effigy, with slanting eyes and elongated, tattooed visage, and whose general appearance represented nothing so much as an ugly, ill-formed baby. This was Kuruaro, a chief who is said to have walked the earth six generations after Tutanekai. There were many other noted ancestors of the tribe, all hideous in appearance, yet all elaborately and marvellously carved, but it would require a volume to repeat their histories.

It was on a bright morn, when in company with a native youth I stepped into a canoe and headed across Rotorua to the island of Mokia, which rose to a height of over five hundred feet from the centre of the lake.

As soon as we had landed, my guide took me to a tree, into the hollow part of which the skeleton of a chief had been placed ages ago, but the forest giant, continuing to grow, had clasped the grim remnant of humanity in its firm embrace, and thus preserved the bones from decay in a very remarkable manner.

We mounted through the thick fern to the summit of the island, where formerly stood a pa, but nothing of this remained save the graves, where some of the principal chiefs of the Ngatiwakaue await the coming of the great day, and the subterranean caves wherein the stone idols, said to have been brought from Hawaiki by the Arawas, dwell in a kind of pagan solitude, as if anxious to hide their diminished heads from the light of Christianity.

There are few more delightful places in the Lake Country than Mokia—rich in Maori legend, and renowned far and wide as the scene of one of the most interesting of the many love romances of the Arawas. It rises boldly from the water, has hills and deep valleys, is rock-bound and fringed with trees, and is all that is enchanting, fairy-like, and beautiful. To view it with the sunlight playing over the glittering surface of Rotorua and sweeping over its rounded, fern-clad hills with the most charming effects of light and shade, is pleasing in the extreme, but it is at night, when the lake is as calm as the sky above, and the pale moon floats over its surface in a silvery sheen, and countless stars are mirrored forth in the depths below, that the picture is the most enchanting; for it is then the spirit of romance steals over one, and leads the imagination back instinctively as it were to the dark days of Maori history, when tattooed warriors glided over the water in swift canoes on some midnight raid, and made the welkin ring with their war-cries, when Hongi "the terrible" gladdened the hearts of his conquering Ngapuhi with cannibal feasts at the expense of the vanquished Ngatiwhakaue, when song and legend resounded from hill and dale, and when Tutanekai, by the magic of his flute, wooed the dark-skinned Hinemoa, and caused the heroine of Rotorua to act the part of a primitive Leander by swimming in puris naturalibus across the lake to his island home.

Now, be it known that the spirit of Hinemoa hovers around Mokoia like unto a bright halo around the sun, and the hills and the vales, the rocks and the stones, the trees, and the hot and cold springs, all whisper tales to her memory. Her home was at Ouhata, a jutting point on the shores of Rotorua, where stood a village of her tribe. She was the daughter of the chief Unukaria, and the fame of her beauty spread far and wide over the country, and poets sang of her charms, and warriors plighted their troth in her honour. Never was maiden so talked of in prose and sung of in verse. At Mokoia lived Tutanekai, a foster son of the chief Whakane, who fell sick for love of the beautiful maiden of Ouhata. The two hearts beat as one. Then, as now, the adage that "All is fair in love and war" held good, and it was agreed that Hinemoa should flee to Tutanekai, to whom she had been forbidden, under pain of death, to give her hand. The strains of his flute were to herald the beginning of operations, when the maiden was to paddle her own canoe across the water. Now when the night was calm Tutanekai took his flute, and seating himself upon a rock hard by Kaiwaka on the shore of Mokoia, the sound of his music was wafted by the breeze to the home of Hinemoa. Then Hinemoa came down to the lake to step into her canoe, but, alas! the frail craft had been hauled up high and dry upon the land. To launch it herself was impossible, and to seek assistance would be but to divulge her movements. There was no course open but to swim, and, with the innate courage of her race, she was equal to the occasion. She took six empty gourds and fastened them to her body, on either side, and then plunged from a rock into the lake. The stars and the moon shone upon her from above, but the waters were wide, and there was no guide save the music of Tutanekai, but with love at the prow she shaped her course bravely until she landed on the shores of Mokoia, at a point where a warm fountain bubbled up amidst the rocks, and which is known even unto this day as "Hinemoa's Bath."

A LOVE SONG.

Far o'er the lake slept romantic Mokoia,
While the pale moon shone bright from above,
And on a rock the brave Tutanekai
Tootled his flute to the gay song of love.
Softly lamenting sings he to his darling,
"Come to my arms, O my sweet Hinemoa,
Let not the sorrow of anguish divide us;
Come, that we never may part any more."
Gently the echo sped on the night air,
Till spell-like it broke on the glad maiden's ear;
Lightly she came to the brink of the water,
And swam o'er its surface so limpid and clear;
Brightly the stars shone forth from the heavens,
Glittering like gems in a mantle of blue,
And the strains of the flute seem'd to ripple the water,
Wafted on by the wings of the wind as it blew.
Swift the dark beauty swept o'er the wavelets
Till she kiss'd the white sand of Mokoia's fair shore;
When brave Tutanekai, ceasing his music,
Cried, "Come to my arms, O my sweet Hinemoa,"
Lock'd in embraces, the lover and maiden
Were wedded by Cupid, who flew from above,
And dark Hinemoa and brave Tutanekai,
'Neath the light of the moon sang their anthem of love.