WHEN TARAWERA FROWNED

New Zealand Herald, Volume LIX, Issue 18278, 20 December 1922, Page 1 (Supplement)

WHEN TARAWERA FROWNED

ST was very hot in the sun, but a cool breeze had sprung up from the south, blowing Rere's »Jark hair about her brown tinted face, as she sat upon the edge of the lake, idly throwing In small, white pebbles, to watch them sink in the cool, clear water. Rere was a very beautiful Maori girl, with a slim, graceful little figure, small hands, and dark eyes that contrasted with her brown, delicately tinted s!<fn. She made a pretty picture sitting there in the warm sunshine, her big dark eyes gazing into the green depths or the lake, and her shapely little feet quite bare.

Tiie Maori pa was only -a short distance from Tarawera, and upon the shores of this beautiful lake R«re sat waiting. At last Im3 came—a tall young Maori warrior, son of a great chief—Pohatu-roa they called him, meaning, in Maori language, "Lofty Rock."

He strode along by the edge of the lake, his. head held erect, his strong, brown limbs exposed to the warm sun.

" Tana Icoe, (Good day to you) my beautiful!" ho cried, stretching himself at her feet upon tho grass.

Rere flashed upon him a radiant smile; then suddenly her face clouded over.

"Lock how Tarawera frowns!" said she, pointing towards the great volcano with its steep, lava-crusted sides, looking .so weird and forbidding, rearing its tall head far above the weaters of the lake. " "Why, who minds Tarawera, my beloved?" said Pohatu-roa, with a careless lenigh, drawing her closely to his side. But dark clouds had gathered above Tarawera, casting deep shadows down the sides of the frowning mountain.

Did Tarawera really frown? She thought it did.

Eere was certainly the most beautiful girl in the pa, and it had taken Pohaturoa some time to win her affection, for she was very shy, and much soug7it after by other young warriors belonging to the same tribe, but she had no eyes for anyone but Pohatu, and she gave him all the love of her passionate young heart. At first Rere's great shyness had caused Pohatu many anxious moments as he paddled his canoe upon the lake, he often watched her swimming in the lake, her long, dark hair floating out like seaweed in the clear, green water.

More than a wees had passed away since Tarawera had frowned, and Eere, paddling her little canoe to the edge of the lake, fastened it securely to a tall pohutukawa in full bloom that overhung the water.

It was a glorious day; the birds sang in the bush, and the sun shone down upon the lake, turning it into a sheet of dazzling Brightness. Eere was feeling hot and tired, as she penetrated into the cool depths of the forest; a long, green frond from a ponga caught her lovingly by the hair, but sho put it impatiently away; her heart was heavy with sadness, for the first cloud had risen in her sky, and this was Panake, a young Maori girl, and although Panake was not beautiful like Eere, she was decidedly pretty; her hair was longer and her skin paler, and she was called Panake after the white flower or creeping convolvoTus that grows wild in the forest. Eere had knew her favourite bathing place, and seen Pohatu watching Panake upon several occasions, and it had grieved her to see him bo attentive. " Did Pohatu really love her?" she wondered, as sne sat among the ferns. Ho had seemed different the last few days, and poor Here's dark eyes grew misty tvith unshed tears, as she wondered why Pohatu seemed to like Panake better than herself. Panake was not really beautiful—she was so small; nor could "she sing like Rere, who had a beautiful voice-, and often sang while Pohatu played upon his flute.

The sun was setting as Eere walked towards the edge of the lake, parting the thick foliage with her hands as she went. Suddenly she stopped. Her quick car had caught the sound of a paddle, and she knew that another canoo was coming her way. As she waited, fohatu's canoe glided quickly past, and as he went he sang a love song. Rer e waited, her heart heating wildly. "Had he really gone past? Yes, he had ! And 'h e must have seen her canoe floating there!" Xever before had Pohatu been known to do such a tiling, and poor little Rere's cup of bitterness was full.

Here paddled quickly across the lake. She knew it would soon be dark, for in Maoriland darkness follows quickly upon the footsteps of the sun. It was late that night when she left the pa, and very dark; creeping out unobserved, she wandered through the silent night, hardly knowing or caring where she went.

She would leave the pa for ever, go right away where no one could find her. Suffering was new to Rere, and her slight young frame shook with hard, dry sobs as she remembered Pohatu's worthless love. For many days she wandered through the country, seeing things she had never seen before at night. Sleeping under the festoons of white clematis that hung from tho surrounding trees, Rere would have been happy but for the aching pain in her heart, and memories that refused to die.

She had lost count of time, till one day, just at sunset, slie came to open country. Right in front of her loomed

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a great dark mountain, standing aa if to bar the way. Rere stood still, and gazed at the volcano, with its rugged, lava-crusted sides, rising directly out of the level piece of country, as if some giant had placed it there. All aiound intense silence reigned, and not even a bird sang; Rere stood filled with awe; she had often heard the Maoris speak of Ngauruhoe, the great, active volcano that rained out fire and ashes when the gods were angry, but she hafl never thought to seo it. She recalled many stories heard of Ngauruhoe, for the Maoris are a very superstitious race. She was too afraid to attempt to pass by it, and yet, what was she to do? Ehe could not go back, that -was not to be thought of. Then suddenly an idea struck her:

"Oh i Ngauruhoe I Groat mountain of the world 1" she cried, clasping her hands together. "Do not frown upon me, my heart is breaking! I cannot return, for Pohatu loves Panake, the white faced flower of the forests. Tell me what to do, Great Whatitiri (Thunder) Mountain, friend of the gods!"

For a moment nothing happened; then there was a rumbling noise like distant thunder, and the earth shoe* and trembled, a curl of thick, black smoke started to ascend out of the mouth of the crater; larger and larger it grew, darkening the sky. Rere watched, scarcely daring to breathe, when suddenly the rumbling ceased, and tho dart: cloud of smoke began to decrease, and a tongue of flame leaped out and pointed like a finger of fire in the direction Rere had come. Three times the flame leaped out, and then disappeared, and all -was still once more. Rere wondered if this was a sign, meaning that she was to return the way she had come. She hesitated, looking towards Ngauruhoe, but no other sign came, and all the smoke had cleared away, leaving it standing there all silent and alone. With one long look, Rera reluctantly turned her wfSary, bruised little feet in the direction Bhe had come, for the knew the journey was long, ana %voidd take her many days.

As she neared the pa, it had the appearance of a deserted village, with no sign of life about. From the first whare she came to, sounds of mourning arose; then from another and still another, camo the cries of woe. The Maoris were holding a tangi, and mourning for their dead. A great fear filled heart. What could have happened? Something very unusual, she thought. Then, quite suddenly she came across the mother o! Panake, her hair streaming in the air, and her eyes wild with fear.

"The gods are angry 1" she cried, throwing out her arms. "My Panake lies sick with the plague. Tuhoe is already dead, while Pohatu-roa lies dying in his whare!"

Eere waited u> hear no more. With afne bound [had reached Pdjiatu's whare, where he lay, tossing from side to side, in a burning fever. " Pohatu! My dear one, my own love!" she softly murmured, as she bathed his burning temples with cool water from the lake.

Day by day she watched him, and all through the long, dark nights, listening to his ravings while attending to his wants; for his life was her life, and his death would be hers. Her dark eyes wide with suffering, she gazed into the coming dawn. Then one day the fever left him, and Pohatu opened his brown eyes and looked up into the beautiful anxious face bending over him. "Oh! My Eere! My beloved!" said he, " Where have you been? I have wandered through strange, dark lands seeking you; but now you have returned!"

And Eere was perfectly happy onca again, as she smoothed back the thick, dark hair that clung to his temples, for ■ she had fought and conquered with all her young strength that great enemy of all mankind called jealousy.