HUIA'S SACRIFICE.

Dominion, Volume 29, Issue 133, 29 February 1936, Page 23

HUIA'S SACRIFICE.

(Original, by Nonnie the Gnome (15), Napier.)

r £HE silvery rays of the fading .sunbeams danced over the calm greyness of. ‘the lake and hid among the purple shadowed waters of the narrow stream where the silent trout lurked. A little breeze impatiently stirred the green acacia leaves, but Huia still sat immovable on a rotting log, his Maori mac. hanging loosely about his shoulders. He held a kauau to his lips ahd/the plaintive notes shivered among the trees, for Huia was sad. and .the trees seemed to sympathise with him Hiss father, Raukuri,. was a great Rangatira, skilful in battle, who expected his sons to,have, the same quality. Waitara and Tamati —Huia’s two eider.' brothers —had been, at an early age, included in the iwarriors of the tribe, and had lustily shoutefl. the war-cry,'“Roto Taniwha Ran” ; but Huia hated these wars, hated the fighting and bloodshed and loved peace. Instead of joining in the sports with spear and mere he would sit alone with the birds and the trees amidst the great solitudes of the bush. The other members of the tribe scorned him openly, thinking that he was a coward; even the gentle wahiues looked on him with disfavour. He was so different, they said. There was only one who really understood Huia and that was the pakelm missionary, who was ever welcome at the pa. The white man loved the boy as though he were his own son and Huia returned that great love. Yes, HE understood, but how Huia wished that others-—especially his father—did, t 00... The call of a bellbird awakened him from this reverie, and hastily tilling his calabash, he prepared to climb the white, pumice path. Arriving at the top he glanced back and saw the snow-capped .peak of Ruapehu, rising high above the clouds. How beautiful was the stately Ruapehu .... she seemed to be waiting for him. Kowhai and rata trees grew in. abundance, and Huia thought of how once little Aroha, his sister, had asked him if the tiny Patu-pairehe lived in those trees. ’l’was certainly a lovely place. A flame-coloured blossom brushed his cheek and he smiled-—he somehow wondered why, but perhaps .... perhaps

.. . . lie knew. ' ~ . ■ ‘ f.\ ”• Vis;. . The twisty path straightened out as it neared the clearing, the carved* gates of the pa being only a little further on. As he passed the last trees Hula gave a gasp of surprise and happiness for there stood Raukuri, and with him his friend the "missionary. His smile of welcome quickly changed to one of horror, however, for his sharp eyes detected a movement in the flax bushes behind the two. There, almost concealed, was a Maori from a nearby hostile : tribe, in his hand a long spear. The warrior drew it back over his shoulder and then lunged forward, aiming it at the white man. Hula did not hesitate. With a sharp cry lie rushed- into the clearing, and the spear hurtled through the air, to bury itself in the young boy’s breast. There was a short stab of pain, and then Huia sank to the ground. ... He was. dead He had passed into Te Reigna when the missionary and Raukuri reached him, but there was a’smile on his face even then, and a great happinesq in his soul. ' " ' " . “Greater love hath noinian -than this, that he lay down, his life for .his friend.’’ Tears sprang into tire white man’s eyes as he said these simple words and Raukuri’s hands trembled as he slowly knelt beside his son. “He was braver than you or 1 could ever be,” said the missionary revert ently, “and young, so young. He was my friend.” • • The’ speaker turned away towards the west where colours of mauve and gold were splashed across the sky; silhouetting Ruapehu in all its magnificence. Hula would never ; see another sunset. .. . ' . * ■ '■> . i Raukuri caught Huia’s, cold hands and laid them against his face. “He was my son— my own son,” he replied slowly, in a choking voice, for at last he understood.