THE MOA HUNT

Press, Volume LXXIX, Issue 23847, 16 January 1943, Page 4

THE MOA HUNT

[By WHIM WHAM.] Anthropologically, 1942 was a memorable year for research in the South Island concerning the culture of the Moa Hunters. . . . More is known today about these early dwellers in the South Island than ever before. . . . Another unusual custom pertaining to these people was the burial of a perforated moa’s egg with each of the seven bodies found . . .”—From an item in "The Press." A Race of Hunters long extinct Whose Bones and Trophies have been found, With our Affairs remotely linked (Because they trod the self-same Ground), Call, like a Spectre from the Mist Of Time, the Anthropologist. But, spite of Anthropology We have our Moa Hunters still— Oh, don’t begin reminding me There are no Moas loft to kill— Who hunt with Curses or with Cheers

Dead Issues and extinct Ideas. So when I hear of Peace maintained For ever by superior Force, And scientific Heavens gained From This or That material Source, I know that, in the Din of War, The Moa Hunt is up once more. Oh. Moa Hunters, ancient Race, How far your wingless Birds have

flown! The Trophies of your ghostly ChaSe Are only Dust and Bits of Bone; Though you and they are dead and gone, The Name remains, the Hunt goes on.