CHAPTER I.

Otago Witness, Issue 2387, 30 November 1899, Page 49 (Supplement)

CHAPTER I.

There was weeping and wailing in Aotearoa. Te Manawa, the great Ngaitahu chief, was dead, killed by the hand of a friend. Swiftly the messengers ran from hapu to hapu of the mighty Ngaitahu tribe to tell the dreadful news, and the ovens were speedily prepared for a hakari. The eels and the ducks and the wekas and the kakas were cooked, and for many days the voices of the young men and of the old warriors were lifted up in cries to Tv, the great god, for vengeance; while the wailing of the women was heard in every kainga. The daughter of Tukiauau, a principal chief of the Ngatimamoe, was a Maori princess of wonderful beauty — tall and lithe of limb, with a voice that rivalled the bellbird and the tui for sweetness, while her nut-brown complexion was like the sky where it touches the sea at sunrise. The young Ngaitahu prince, the son of Te Manawa, loved the daughter of Tukiauau, and begged his father to ask the hand of the beautiful princess in marriage. But the great chief of the Ngatimamoe was proud of his lineage, and would not hear tell of the marriage. Long and angrily the two chiefs discussed the proposal, and stung by an insult from Te Manawa, Tukiauau struck him down with his mere mere. On finding out that he had killed Manawa, he prepared for flight, well knowing that he would have to meet the vengeance of the whole Ngaitahu tribe. He called his young men together and his old and trusty warriors, and told them to get ready the canoes for flight to the South Island.

While the Ngaitahu were holding a great feast to the memory of their fallen chief, the young men of TuMauau's hapu made the canoes ready for sea. They scraped the flax blades and twisted strong cord, with which they fastened the top sides of the canoes so that they would be strong to resist the waves. Then one night Tukiauau and all his hapu carried their possessions and the prepared food to the canoes, and when the morning sun gleamed over Aotearoa, the canoes were out of sight round the point, upon the bosom of the sea. Witk wailing chants the women crooned a dirge to their lost homes, while the rowers kept time with their paddles. All that day and all the next night Tukiauau urged the young men to their task, hoping to be beyond reach of pursuit before the friends of Manawa found that he had fled. On, on the fugitives flew, the prows of their big war canoes cleaving the water asunder under the impulse of 50 strong rowers in each, whose paddles kept time to their song, while the spray dashed high over the carved figureheads. After many days the fugitives saw smoke rising from a Maori village near the mouth of the Waikakahi River, and they landed, hoping to get a friendly welcome. They were met by the chief and the principal men of his hapu, who asked them whence they came. At first Tukiauau dissembled ; but on hearing the truth Tuti Kawa, the chief of the hapu, was angry. Pointing to the sea, whose waves never rest, he said, " Go to your home, Tukiauau ; there is no resting-place for you here. You have destroyed one of the stars of Aotearoa, so flee for your life." They did not tarry long after this hostile reception, and again the canoes were out upon the wide heaving sea, while the roar of the waves on the shore was like the wrath of the avengers of Manawa. Again the fugitives landed at Timaru; but Tuti Kawa had sent his messengers, and Tukiauau was not allowed to land. At Oamaru he fared no better, and it seemed as if the sea was to be his only home till its wavef swallowed him and his whole hapu up. But Tukiauau was brave, and he urged his young men to renewed courage. "Pear not," he said, "there is a land farther south where friends will allow us to live in peace, and where the long arm of the Ngaitahu cannot reach . us. Thither we will flee. See, the sun shines upon us, and the winds favour our course. If Tv is on our side, who can do us any harm? All will be well in the end."

Thus encouraged, the rowers plied their paddles and made the canoes fly through the water like living things. The sun shone bright and warm, tempered only by the east wind that raised the sea in tiny ripples, while the porpoises gambolled around and led the way. They landed at Moeraki, and again tried to find a resting-place there, but with no better success than at other places. At Otakou, however, they fared better. The chief at that place gave them welcome, and asked them to stay; but Tukiauau feared that Otakou did not afford safe enough asylum for him; the harbour was too good. The fugitives rested for a few days, and after renewing their supplies of food, pushed on to Taieri. The setting sun lit up the rata blossoms into a crimson flame as the canoes rounded the point of Moturata, the island that stands sentinel at the mouth of the lovely Taieri, and against whose fire-hardened sides the ocean expends its thunders in vain. Once round the point, the canoes were in calm water, for the island imposes a barrier which acts as an effective breakwater, and there is a good landing place on the sheltered side. Thither the canoes of Tukiauau glided, till they touched the beach of gleaming white sand, when the whole company disembarked. The women hied to the lagoon on the top of the island to get fresh

water to refill the calabashes and wherewith to slake the thirst of the rowers, for the water they carried with them became hot with the heat of the summer sun. Here Tukiauau would fain have stayed and built him a pa, for the position was unassailable. The eastern side of Moturata was opposed to the full sweep of the ocean-, and no war party could land there, while the landing place on the western side was easily guarded, flanked on either hand as it was by high ramparts of overhanging or perpendicular rock. Out to sea scarce a mile from the shore there were wide fields of brown kelp, buoyed up by its innumerable floats. It was a sea forest within whose shelter multitudes of toothsome fish found protection from the storm and abundance of food. The lordly hapuka dined upon the red cod, supped of the blue cod, and breakfasted on the young moki. The conger eel shared the banquet with the dogfish, and the ling stole in amongst the small fryto glut his greedy appetite. The giant ratas that clothed the island were the nesting place of the kaka, while the tui and the huia sported amongst fheir blossoms. The tui and the bellbird came to drink the nectar which shed a drowsy sweetness through the forest when the sun was hot. At the time of year when the rata was in bloom the cool east wind carried a rich perfume to the shore where the Taieri Maoris lived. Amongst the rata roots the mutton birds burrowed and made their nests, while the seals came up on the rocks to sleep or to bask in the sun. The rata forest gave shelter from the winter storms, material to build a pa and the whares, while its branches made fires that burned with a

fierce heat. There was plenty of fresh water, too, in the lagoon, around which the *r*wi grew, that would do to roof the whares. What better place could there be to build a Maori stronghold upon?

But there was one thing needful, and that was the friendship of Tv Iriroa, the chief of the Taieri hapu, who had their pa near where the river swept past the clifts before it did battle with the ocean and made its angry waves boil with fury where ocean swell and river current met. With great misgivings the followers of Tukiauau went to sleep that night within the friendly shade ot the sweet-scented rata, and when morning broke the chief sent messengers with presents to win the friendship of Tv Iriroa. The Taieri chief wad also a chief of the Ngatimamoe, and wai therefore a kinsman of Tukiauau. He received the messengers kindly, sent return presents by them, and invited the fugitive chief to visit him at his pa. On meeting, Tv Iriroa asked Tukiauau why he came: "Why do you cross the sea, oh, brother; and is it peace or strife you seek? "

"Because I killed Manawa," Tukiauau replied, " and fear has lent swiftness to my flight."

Then Tv Iriroa's face grew dark with sorrow as he replied, " You have killed one of the noblest in the land. Manawa was my brother, and your brother, and the friend of all the southern tribes. I cannot be your friend ; go from my presence, and do not let me see you more."

Then Tukiauau went away in deep sorrow, feeling that in all the South Island he could not find a friend. He sent some of his young men up the Taieri River to seek oat a place to build a pa, for he was afraid to stay on Moturata, because of the anger of Tv Iriroa. The young men in the canoes paddled them swiftly till they

left the Taieri pa out of sight behind them. They were enchanted with the sight that grpeted them as the canoes glided along the placid river. The unbroken forest hung heavy and dark and sombre-looking from hilltop to riverside, lit up here and there by the crimson-flowered rata on the shore and the chaste white blossoms of the hoheria in the shaded valleys. The kakas held high carnival amongst the miro berries, while the white-bosomed pigeon hovered lazily around, or crooned its soft, deep love note to its mate from some lofty branch. The bellbird chimed its tinkling note from out the depths of the forest shade, like spirit choristers at a tangi for the dead. The tui screeched aloft as he chased the hawk that menaced his fledglings, and the weka played ; * hide and seek by thicket and stream. *l he rimu tossed its tasselled branches in the breeze, and the feathery kowhai reflected the sunshine in emerald green amidst its sombre-hued surroundings. Earlier in the season it had hung its yellow tassels like a fringe of flame from every branch, while the white clematis nestled on the treetops, fitting emblems of the spirits of the noble ones of the earth who had been raised high f-om humble origin. As the breeze stirred the fronds of the tall tree-ferns that grew within the forest's shade they showed their white, shining under sides, like the moonlight on the waters. The high hills were ■eflected in the blue waters beneath, which rivalled in their purity the blue heaven overhead. It was a fairy scene, and which was real and which was shadow the warriors of Tukiauau scarcely knew. With lightening hearts they wielded their paddles, and their voices grew strong as their hearts

beat high with hope till the bold cliffs reechoed theii song. After passing^ through this enchanting scene a view of quite a different character met their gaze. The river forked, one branch going north and the other south. To the north they saw a pa up on a high hill, so that decided them in their choice of the south branch of the river, which carried the blue water of the sea into Lake Waihora. A broad plain, covered over with tall flax and rushes near the river, with here md there a clump of trees where the land ivas high enough above the high-tide mark, while the low centre of the plain was covered with the swamp tussock, or Maori head sedge, extending right to the foot of Maurgatua — the sacred hill of the god Atua. The dark waters of the swamp were the home of countless eels of large size, and when the frosts of winter numbed tl"j fish they lay in the soft mud at the bottom, falling ready victims to the Maori eel-spears. The red and green water weed that spread over the whole surface of the swamp afforded cover for the water beetles and other insects, and provided feed in plenty for the wild ducks and the swamp hens. Where the dark waters of the Taieri, coloured by the rich vegetation through which the river flowed, met the blue waters of the lower river when the tide was high, the line of meeting kept distinct for a long way before the waters Llonded together. It was like the meeting of the Ngaitahu with the Ngatimamoe. At first they fought and kept apart, but in the end the masterful oceantide absorbed the small dark river's stream.

On, on the canoes sped, the swift blue tide of the Waihora River helping the rowers, till soon they were bewildered with a maze of many rivers branching to the left and to the right. After a brief consultation they chose the widest river which again divided into several branches. Choos-

ing the straightest, they came into Lake Waipori, and there a sight greeted them that gladdened their eyes. It was a calm summer day, just the faintest breeze from the east fretting the dark waters of the lake into ripples. Grey ducks and teal were resting on the lake like the dark shadows of the clouds as they float across a clear sky. Thousands upon thousands of ducks, forming dark fields acres in extent, were upon the lake, clustering together in 'groups like the hapus of a powerful tribe when resting after a long march. Here «"as the promise of plenty of food, and the heavy flight of pukaki as the canoes came along the river showed that they were coming to a land of plenty. There were mighty eels in the lake, and the cunning Maori knew how to lure them into his eel pots. The wide fringe of raupo that skirted the lake all around was a grand hiding-place for the teal ducks in the moulting season, and then the dogs would catch them in hundreds, and the whatas could be piled up high with preserved ducks and eels and swamp hens. On the hills on the west side, covered with tutu and flax and fern, there were many wekas, for could they not hear them call to their mates with their well-known cry? The little quail, too, was seen to run at the approach of the canoes. Here was the place to live if only a good site for a pa could be found. The nearest pa stood on Moua Hill, near by the Taieri River, across the plain there, and between there were several miles of river and swamp and lake.

As the canoes glided across the placid waters of the lake, the young men in the leading canoe raised a shout which caused

those following to stand up and look. Following the direction indicated by the waving of hands and pointing of canoe-paddles, they spied a hill, apparently with water all round it. Redoubling their energies, the canoes soon reached the shore, and without delay they climbed the hiu. From the top, where the trees were not so tall, they saw Lake Waihora to the south and Lake Waipori to the north, with the island hill between. The sides were steep, and heavy brush grew all round the island, with tail manuka scrub in the centre. A river ran around it, joining the clear waters of Lake Waihora to the darker waters of Waipori Lake. It was an ideal site for a pa, and after resting for a meal the messengers returned with the ebbing tide, and told Tukiauau, their chief-, all that they had seen. The chief was well pleased with the report of the young men, and early next morning all were astir on Motu Rata, and soon the whole party were away up the Taieri River and across the lake to Waihorapuka, where they built a strong pa and lived unmolested for a few years.