MR TUI MEETS THE MAORIS

Press, Volume LXXII, Issue 21886, 12 September 1936, Page 3 (Supplement)

MR TUI MEETS THE MAORIS

This is a story that tells of the coming of the Maoris. It was awarded a special prize in our “Hobbies Literary Competitions.”

“Cling! Clang, clang, clang, clang!” The bgll-like notes of a glossy-coated Tui rang through the bush-clad' valley and echoed round the rocky peaks. It was spring in New Zealand many years before even the Maoris had settled in our land. The whole country lay basking in the sun, and our friend Mr Tui was perched on the tip-top bough of a kahikatea. There was just enough breeze to enable him to swing backwards and forwards as he repeated his song. The sea was a dazzling blue and the seagulls and little red-eyed gulls were asleep on the sand, with their heads tucked under their wings. They had finished their lunch of fish and were settled down for the afternoon. From a ngaio tree a most overhanging the sea came a slight sound, then' there was a flash of greenish-blue followed by a harsh cry as a Kingfisher returned to his tree with a wriggling fish. After beating it on a branch until it was dead, he flew off to a hole in the bank where Mrs Kingfisher was sitting on five white eggs. Mr Tui saw it all from his high perch, but did not move. He could

see the spot high up In a lawyer bush where his mate was sitting on her nest of eggs and he could see all round him the golden kowhai from which he sucked his mellow honey. He looked down over the valley with his sharp eyes, and all was peaceful, he looked out to sea and stopped his song in amazement. What was that object coming towards the shore? Not a fish he felt sure, for all his life he had never seen its like; not a sea bird, for it was larger even than a moa; then what could it be? As it drew nearer It sang-.and cried and Mr Tut left his perch to draw nearer the shore. When he reached the ngaio tree i he was greeted by, Mr Kingfisher who had regained his perch. "Well, Mr Tui, and how is your mate? Is your family through yet?” “Mrs Tui Is very well, thank you,” was the. reply, “and my eggs aren’t hatched yet, but they won’t he long now. What I came to see is that bird-fish. [What is it, Mr Kingfisher?”

The Kingfisher wiped his long sharp bill on the gnarled branch and then said, “Well. I’m just wondering, myself.”

Just then the crying of the strange object roused the gulls. The big black-backed ones rose majestically into the air and circled round and round, crying aloud as they wheeled round in their dizzy fight. The mackerel gulls ran up and down the sand squawking and crying out. As a big gull neared the ngaio tree Mr Kingfisher called to him, "Gull, Gull, what are those birds?”

“K—a—a—rk,” was the reply. _'l don’t know,” and off he went again. But when he had circled round again he called to the curious birds, “They are tree trunks filled with big, brown, featherless birds, K—a —a—rk.”

A little bush wren hopped up and down a branch on a near-by broad-leaf tree and when he saw the two birds so rarely seen together, he hopped back along the branch to tell his mate.

It was late afternoon when those uninvited visitors reached the shore. Mr Tui had returned to his mate and only the cheeky fantails, the kingfishers and the squawking fulls saw them land. When Mr 'ui in the falling (}usk swooped up to his swaying perch, he saw on the beach a fire, something he had never seen before. Round the fire he saw large, dark objects, but

they were not birds, for they had neither beak nor feathers except a loose strip Of feathers over their shoulders. As he poured forth his evening song he saw these objects watching him and talking together. Now, Mr Tui was a very curious bird, and when his song was finished, he flew nearer the bright light. Still the figures watched him and when he perched on a nearby tree, one tall visitor raised his arm and threw something at Mr Tui. It was a spear and had our friend not flown ort at the first movement of that arm, he would not have lived to see his family break through their shells. Away he flew in great fear, on and on, until he found himself over a tall cliff. The frightened bird was just turning back when he heard a voice calling him. “Mr Tui, Mr Tui, why are you so far from home at this hour of the night?" "Why, it’s Old Mr Gull,” thought our friend, the Tui. Old Mr Gull was Indeed very, very old and also

very wise. He had been where no other' gull had ventured and seen what no other gull had seen. He had but one eye and one leg was sadly withered. “Oh, Mr Gull,” cried the Tui, “tell me what are those monsters on the beach that throw sharp sticks at birds?” Mr Gull laughed in his own bird’s way-—a harsh laugh that made Mr Tui wish he were safe at home.

“They, my friend,” said the old Gull, “are Men. I have seen them before, for it was they who took the sight of my eye. Before another nesting season you will regret they ever came. They will cut down your food-trees; they will steal our fish; they will, my friend, kill us. ‘ Our flesh will they cut and with our feathers they will cover themselves, for they are born without down or feather?”

“Ah,” he continued sadly, shaking his head, “our peace is gone. Beware, my friend, lest your curiosity gets you into trouble.” With this and a great flapping of wings he flew away.

From his high bough Mr Tui saw many things in the next few days, will they eat and with our feathers Nests were built along the shore, funny nests they were, built upside down. He saw . these Men go out in their treetrunks and catch fish not with their beaks, for they had none, but with a long stem like a vine. He saw them spear the flat wood-pig-eon, and cook them —oh, horrible sight—and just as the wise old Gull said would happen, he recognised the victim’s feathers on these Men’s coverings.

Mr Tui was busy those days, for four little babies were in the nest in the matted lawyer bush. Still as he flew back and forth he had time to think of the newcomers. One day when the young birds were a week old, Mr Tui saw on the beach a queer construction. He, forgetting the wise Gull’s advice, swooped down to investigate. What could it be? He hopped nearer and pecked at the frame. He saw some golden kowhai flower inside. Why were they there? In he hopped to see. What happened next Mr Tui never quite knew, but suddenly a net was over him and the more he cried and flapped his wings the more entangled he became. Along came a dark man who smiled with satisfaction and gathered up, net, bird and all. Mr Tui was placed in a large wicker cage where he lived many, weary days. Water, late berries and kowhai flowers were put in for him, but he had no heart to eat. They seemed to expect him to sing, but how could he when his heart was sick with the thought of his mate and young. How could she feed them all? How she would wonder at his long absence! And he fluttered round and round his cage longing for his old swaying bough on the white pine tree, with the wind rushing past and the sea booming in the distance. How could he sip honey from flowers crushed and drooping when he had the memory of alighting on a tree covered with insects arid honey-eating birds, to fight for the golden honey. So he moped and drooped and forgot even to preen his feathers. One evening when Mr Tui was nearly dead with hunger and desnalr, a dark-skinned She-Man crept up to the cage and with pitying eyes and trembling hands she undid the cage. Then with a fearful glance round, she sped into the bush. Mr Tui, scarcely able to believe he was actually free, hopped out of the cage, stretched his wings, then, with a rustling of feathers.

flew gracefully and rapidly to his favourite bough. The sun was setting. A peaceful calm lay over the valley. Suddenly it was broken by a tui’s song, more beautiful, more thankful, than ever heard before in that little vailev. The captive had found release, and its liberator, hearing the song, smiled happily to herself. His thanksgiving song over, with graceful flight Mr Tui flew up, up the hillside to the nest m the matted lawyer-bush. TOE END,