THE GOVERNOR IN TUHOE LAND.

Press, Volume LXI, Issue 11876, 25 April 1904, Page 5

THE GOVERNOR IN TUHOE LAND.

m FROM THE LAST CAMP TO RUATOKI.

ARTICLE No. VII. (SPECIAL TO "THE PRESS.") WELLINGTON, April 20. Tlie crescent moon and one lone brightstar were disputing with the dawn as we rose next morning. Tlie tents were struck, breakfast disposed of—grilled bacon, trout, roast potatoes, and tea—and soon we were on the road again. Tlie Governor had decided to get to Ruatoki by a short way, over a mountain range; so, instead of keeping to the main road, we drove along a track on the right side of the Wairohau Valley—the valley of the waters of the wind. Tlie presence of the faithful Poison, with his pack-horse, recalled to Dr. Pomare the fact that after great trouble he had got the old man to send his wife into hospital to be operated upon for tumour. The operation was successful, and Mrs Poison made a good recovery. Previous to this Poison had been very sceptical about the dark arts of the modern practitioner, much preferring the strange methods of the Maori tohunga. Ever since his wife had been operated upon, however, he had come to think the world of modern surgery, and now, whenever any- , one has a pin. of any description, Poison will use all Lis persu: fr vo powers in urging him to go to the hospital and have it cut out! Our Maori escort of the night before had gone on to a native village, some distance ahead, but within two or three hours they were with U3 again in greater numbers than ever. After proceeding some ten or fifteen miles, we turned in towards the range on our right, and, leaving the waggonettes, continued, the journey on horseback. Tlie track zig-zagged up a steep mountain side, and as the cavalcade of some hundred men and women climbed up in single file, the effect was most picturesque. Presently we entered' the forest, and, after riding for a mile or co on an easy winding grade across tlie back of the mountain, we began the descent through splendid forest scenery, towards the valk-y of the Whakatane and Ruatoki. Riding ahead of the party with my camera I came suddenly upon a couple of Maoris, who were busy repairing slips and wash-outs along this track. They seemed surprised that the Governor had got through no expeditiously. Shouldering their gleaming shovels they strung into their saddles and cantered off down hill to see if the track was clear ahead. We were still following in the wake of the shovel and the axe, and we just managed to scrape through up to time. The ganger, whom I met . further on, said we could not possibly have got through on the preceding day. We halted for an hour on the verge of the bush, beside a very pretty stream, for luncheon. The weather was now bright, with a hot sun, reminding one almost cf the tropics. For two or three hours after leaving the forest we rode over desolate fern and scrub-covered pumice country, that .had evidently been liberally besprinkled during some great pre-historic volcanic eruption. Late in the afternoon the Governor and his party rode through the broad, swift-flowing waters of the Whakatane, here a noble river, and rode slowly forward towards the native village of Ruatoki, where were gathered about a thousand of the tribespeople and the representatives of all the Maori Councils of New Zealand. The scholars from a Maori school, drawn up in line on the roadside, were duly inspected by Lord Ranfurly. They sang "God Save the King," and we passed on. Before entering the village the Governor and his party dismounted, and walked, as is the Maori custom, with great deliberation, across the marai, towards the meeting-house. A Maori band greeted him with lively airs. Suddenly from the midrt of the musicians there darted Tupara, an old warrior, with a fine dog-skin mat about him, and a greenstone mere in his hand. He was a magnificentlooking man, of tremendous proportions. For a second or two he 'barred the way with flourishing greenstone mere, warlike postures, and grotesque grimaces, and then, like a flash, he was gone. It was a striking bit of realism from the dim past—the old warrior showing himself for but a moment and vanishing as quickly as he came. Then, as we walked slowly forward, above the soft music of the fifes and the roll of the drums, came the usual wailing of the women—long-drawn, melancholy notes of unutterable sadness. This formed the prelude to a wild war dance. No sooner had we token our seats in front of the Runanga House than the warriors, most of them stripped to the buff, and wearing rare mats of dogskin, flax, or feathers, rushed into the village square, brandishing their staffs and meres with that strange trembling motion of the hand and wrist that only a Maori can acquire. Tlie two opposing factions of the dance filed past each other in lhtesj rending the air with piercing yells and displaying in their movements all the grim barbaric ardour of bygone days. In perfect time they sang and ■waved their staves and meres, till, panting from their exertions, they flung themselves with startling suddenness on the ground in a crouching position, that gradually gave place to less tense attitudes, as comely maidens, prettily bedecked in bright blouses and dresses, ornamented with flowing ribbons, marched out from the meet-ing-house, and proceeded to go through the various graceful and ungraceful movements of the "poi" dance. In marvellous time the light poi balls, made from reed fibre, and attached to strings of twisted flax, were swung with lightning quickness through the air, anon hitting palm or thigh, or foot, with a light patting sound, but never one Traction of a second out of time. And all the while the whole line was turning this way and that, with the precision of a machine, and a rhythm of bodily movement" to be expected only from the horn dancer. Another dramatic war dance followed, barbaric chant and dirge alternating with grotesque grimaces, rolling eyeballs, lolling tongues, and tense, quivering limbs and bodies, till earth and air alike vibrated with the stamping and the shouting. Thus ended the preliminary I welcome to the King's representative. Tlie j speech-making was, considerately, reserved for the morrow.

Tlie village now presented an animated scene, as the crowd broke up into smaller groups, to chat about the day's proceedings, or get ready the evening meal. The bright-coloured garments of the women rave a flavour of the Orient to the scene. Groups formed and melted away, and formed again with kaleidoscopic brilliancy. It was noticeable that many of the men were of magnificent proportions, and it was interesting to note the rapid changes worked by environment, for the spare hillmen, • now that they had forsaken the mountain ■ fastnesses of Tuhoe Land, and come out to live in pence and plenty on the plain, were, many of them, becoming of unwieldf proportions. It was interesting, also to , note the different caste of features in the '■ members of the same race. The reddish : hah* so prominent in the women of the I Urewera tribe was particularly noticeable. . It is no doubt a legacy of tlieir ; many generations ago, through a country inhabited by a lighter skinned people. As we strolled through the village our attention was attracted by a group assembled in front of the meetinghouse. Some visitors of the Xjtatikahun~mu tribe kid met. friends whom th*r had not fen. since the d<"»*h of the chiefs Tomoana. Mahupukui, and Kereru, and bath were now solmenly engaged in weeointr. and wailing for the-e great dead. Enlarged photojrraphs of the departed chiefs, and mats brought as presents by the visitors, were displayed -in front of the little knot of mourners. The whole proceedings were inexpressibly cad, and we stood respectfully apart, not caring to intrude upon the privacy of t!u>ir Rrk'f. Tc-ars fell like rain, and then the crooning of the women broke

forth into louder dirges in which they I rehearsed the deeds of the mighty de«*! and of their ancestors. Turning in another direction we witnessed a ouaint and interesting ceremo'ty, the food for the evening meal was being brought in with all the old ceremonial, and as the bearers advanced with it, they rang the song of "Kai." A great weather-boarded shed had been erected as a dining-hall, *n'l presently this was filled with some fouif hundred of the visitors. As soon as the food was ready an old man ouUiide called out in a loud voice the names of the different ancestral canoes so that the descendants of tlie people who came ia these might go in in order of precedence. These having been mentioned, he called the names of the different districts and tribes, so that none might be left out. This was all done solemnly and in an impressive manner; but at "the other end of the long building each call- was repeated by another man, who introduced the comic element, adding remarks of his own such as "Make haste! Make haste!" "Trip along with light step!" "Hurry up! Hurry up! or the food will get cold." Several of the chiefs whom we met were quite the civilised gentlemen, and in their tall hats and frock coats they certainly were better diessed tliau any member of the Governor's party. Som? of them were proudly wearing the medal presented to them by the present heir to the Throne at that memorable gathering at Rotorua. We shook hands with Kereru, the son of the old chief whose death the little coterie a few minutes ago were so solemnly bewailing. We also met Tomoana, the son of the member of the Upper House, lately deceased. He is well educated, talks English fluently, and was trained to become a chemist, but he, like others of his race in the same circumstances, has donned the mat and gone back to his ' own tribe. In another coiner of the village women, most of them smoking pipes, were busy scraping potatoes and cooking food in the Maori ovens. Little children, many of them clad in nothing but a shirt, toddkd about the village street, perfectly happy. Tlie shirt is the first' eign of civilisation. Five years ago tliese young Ureweras would not have been wearing as much as a shirt! Even old Poison now began to show further signs of the seductive effects of civilisation, for he had added to his costume a pair of faded dungaree .trousers. He caught our eye as we came out from dinner for an evening stroll, and mc Governor remarked that Poison's coat, which was really a short, overcoat, had a look of the West' End about it. There-being some doubt expressed, an appeal was made direct to the wearer himself, and, sure enough, it turned out that the coat had been worn by an English tourist and handed on as a legacy to its present owner. As we turned to go, Poison said something in Maori to his companions, and there was a hearty laugh. We asked what it was about, and found that old Poison was simply having his little joke at the expense of hfs more <- fashionably dressed tribespeople. "It- is not every man," he told them, "who can get a Governor to make remarks about his coat!"