The Kiwis’ Nest

Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume XXV, Issue 124, 11 May 1935, Page 15

The Kiwis’ Nest

TO MY MOTHER. Thous sainted guide to all my wilful youth, Thia simple sonnet I inscribe to thee, For daily prayers of thine, in very truth, Were blessed safeguards that encompassed me. Thou fainted not at oft-recurring ftars, Nor wearied at the long continued

quest— Thy sacrifice in faith, oft wet with tears, Acknowledged that delay is sometimes best. And so, unwavering, as the grey yeais passed, Thy priviledge was exercised for him Who sought (Tic ‘‘Father’s house'’ at last, And filled thy cup, and overran the brim,

And now ’tis good to think thou still may be, A guardian spirit in this world to me. H. J. W.

Dear Kiwis, There is such fascination about Maori legends and the tale of Mokoia island has been oft told, yet I think it will bear retelling. Many of you have visited Rotorua and been impressed by the wonderful historic interest attached to its lakes, mountains find islands, and there are those of you who, not yet having seen this wonderland of New Zealand, are looking forward to one day visiting this place of early romance.

From Lake Rotorua, can be seen the island of Mokoia, standing well above the water. On this lake is the famous pool known as Hinemoa’s Bath, and the romantio story connected with it, etill Jives in the memory of the presentday Maoris, and will for ever be preserved by the pakeha. Hinemoa was a beautiful Maori princess who lived with her father on the shores of Lake Rotorua. Her beauty was so widely spoken of that suitors for her hand came from many parts of the land. As a maiden of very high rank, Hinemoa had not the right to choose her own husband, but must accept whoever her father selected.

Each year the tribee of the district met to discuss matters of importance and at these gatherings Hinemoa and Tutanekai met and fell deeply in love. Tutanekai was son of old Whakane, chief of the Island of Mokoia. Hinemoa’a father would not Eear of the union, and to prevent her escaping to the island, made sure each night that the canoes were drawn up on the beach, where it would be impossible for a maiden to launch them. Tutanekai was always thinking of Hinemoa and frequently climbed a little hill on his island home. There he would play the flute, and its sweet music wonld be heard by Hinemoa, over on the mainland. At last she decided that she must in some way reach the island, so one evening she told her parents that she was going to the whare Tapere, where the young people gathered to play games and learn the poi and haka. Instead, however, she went to the storehouse and, obtaining two calabashes, filled up the holes, using these as floats beneath her armpits, set out on her great swim to Mokoia Island.

Arriving there Hinemoa heard a man approaching and took shelter in the warm pool known a« Hinemoa’s bath. She discovered that the man was a servant of Tutanekai who had come to draw water for his master. As the servant passed the pool on his return journey, Hinemoa asked in a deep voice for a drink. She was handed the calabash, but immediately broke it. A second and third calabash was taken from the servant, who then reported the matter to Tutanekai. Greatly enraged at the man who would insult him by breaking his calabashes, the son of the chief snatched up his war club and hastened in search of his enemy. Imagine his joy when he found that the culprit was Hinemoa herself, and that this had been her means of letting him know she was there.

Next morning a fleet of canoes was seen approaching Mokoia island, and Tutanekai and hie people prepared for battle, but by some means peace was brought about and Tutanekai and Hinemoa were allowed to live happily ever after.

And that is the story of Hinemoa’s swim to Mokoia Island. I have been disappointed, dears, not in the stories which I received, but that so few of you thought it worth while competing. I hope that next week’* nature page will meet with greater enthusiasm. It is for this reason that some of you, not having written on the subject called for, have received low marks for your entries. This reference is for the town children, who receive fneir paper daily, and so know, in plenty of time, whether there is a special subject. Country scribes I am more lenient with, for I am never quite sure if they tee my letter in time to respond, but I hope they will not impose upon this. Whenever I give a set subject for competition, I expect every one of you to write upon it. Jubilee day is over, dears, and I wonder how you all celebrated. Tell me, won’t you? And remember to wear a white flower for Mother’s Day. With my love CHIEF KIWI. Bonaparte's mother was a woman of great beauty and energy of character. This last trait hag been strikingly exemplified throughout his whole life.