THE LEGEND OF THE - WANDERING LAKE.

Otago Witness, Issue 2675, 21 June 1905, Page 85

THE LEGEND OF THE - WANDERING LAKE.

lold bt. He Reie^ %; -" - '^ CONTENTS. Glossary. The Flight Preface ' " The Fight To the Wandering Lake. The Prophecy In Time- of Peace The Fulfilment The Alarm L' envoi The. Council GLOSSARY. Hani #, „ A carved wooden spear. Hikaka .-. A man's name. Reckless. Hoea- te waka, Paddle the canoe, Kaka „ ..A parrot (Nestor meridionalis). Xitaoj., go, An incantation; said over - weapons before battle. Kotoha -„ A throwing spear. Kupe .., »ju A man's name. Determined. Mamoo jj. A Maori tribe. Ngatimamoe. l£ana»« j^, A man's name. Power, influence. l£an»pouri ... A lake in Otago. Dark heart. Manuka M , A shrub (Leptospermuni scoparium). Mere ..-. «« A short stone club. Miro „* ;.,, A forest tree (Podoca-rpus ferruginea). Moan* aj.. The ocean. Moana's fingers, the sounds or fiords. Morea.^ -«« A man's name. Shorn of branches. The Maoris at times changed their names - "*-~ - 'to mark some event. Pa v, »« A fortified village. Pare .« *» A woman's name. Plume for the head. Pa *»% <*.. Night. The place of departed spirits. Uata .«, as A tree (Metrosideros lucida). Being* .. The Maori Hades. Kjara .„ acu A, forest tree (Dacrydium cupressinum). 350 a .i; »„ A bird. A species of Apteryx. Tahu.. ,0, A Maori tribe. Ngaitahu. lakapu „ A sea bird. The gannet (Sula serrator). Tamatea „„ Light-skinned son. Tana w „ A Maori God. The moon d:es and -washes' in th« lifegiving waters of Tane, and is renewed again. (White.) Tao <# .ff A long spear. Tapu... ,; Sacred. Tana, . . v A war party. Tawaitiri t j, Splashing water. T« Anau JM A lako in Otago. Seek or , wander. (White.) Te Uira *„ A man's name. The lightning. To© reeds M Stems of a large grass (Arundo conspicua). Ta_ .. Th* god of war.. Tui ** A song bird (Prosthemadera , Nov» Zelandise). Wahaika ** A long-handled wooden hatchet with a tassel of hawk's . feathers. .WtUtf ». A river draining Lakes Te te&tU. fcvuUmJb" Al i au . and Manapouri. __, ' Whirlpool water. (White.) .Wekiu* A tirdi The Maori woodhen , .(Oeydroznua Australia),, iKkaffk *, A house-. PREFACE.. .The B«t. Dr Wuddell in "Maorfland," after quoting from the B&y. Mr Green, of Alpine" fame, who w*ot« of Lake Wakatipu, "It is amazingly beautiful ; the only lake which can surpass it is Lucerne," goeson to say that had Mr Green seen T« Anau or Manapouri, he "would have been compelled to admit that if Lucerns excels, it excels not because- of its own inherent charms, but because of th© historic memories that are associated with it." It is indisputable that this want of "human or historic" interest is the one thing lacking to complete the spell of our glorious mountains, lakes, and sounds. The tourist sailing up Lake Wakatipu, admiring the lofty mountains, turns to listen with interest to th« boatman's tale of low Mr Rees's cattle followed one another to death, througn a false step of their leader, when descending the perilous slopes of the "Devil's Staircase," and the craggy mountain-side acquires almost a new charcn in his eyes. Te Anau, one of our finest lakes, has a slight halo of romance thrown over it, though of the flimsiest character. Some 1 rague rumours existed at no very remote period" of a, tribe of Maoris residing among the bush-covered mountains which lie be°-tween-its head and the West Coast Sounds. JTor can, there be any doubt but that a small remnant of come dwindling tribe did inhabit the sounds within comparatively recent years. Captain Cook saw some Natives in Dusky Sound, and other 1 traces of their existence are said to have been more recently met with*. On the banks of the Upukerora, or, as It is locally named, the Upuk, a stream which flows into Lake Te Anau near its southern extremity, there are still to be found the traces of a considerable Native Tillage. As to who were the inhabitants or when they dwelt there tradition is silent so far as I have been able to discover. Mr John White, however, in his "Ancient History of the Maori" (vol. iii, p. 313), tells us that after, a battle between the Ngaitaim and the Ngatimamoe, a remnant of the latter tribe fl§d southward. He says-, "The Ngaitahu followed up the victory, and overtook them at Aparima (Jacob's River), where they were hemmed in by their enemies, attacked, and nearly exterminated, but about 30 escaped. These fled inland to the Lakes Hawea and •Wanaka, to which place the Ngaitahu thought it inadvisable to. follow them." - He also says, "The rarely-seen Natives Of Bligh Sound and of the south-west coast are, no doubt, the descendants oi Jjhose 30 fugitives from the last battle at 'Aparima, ancf are the remnant of the once powerful Ngatimamoe." 'From the nature of the country, the fugitives would much more easily have reached .Te Anau than either Wanaka or Hawea, *nd could also thence have best reached the West Cowjt Sounds, and 1 fcare therefore accounted for the traces of Maori habitation on the shores of Te Anau by attributing them to the Ngatifgftoe. The old chief Te Uira is not

wholly a mythical personage, as tradition tells of a Ngatimamoe chief of that name who was the possessor of a famous mere named Taonga. This chief had his pa at Jackson's Bay, which was beleaguered by th« Ngaitahu from Arahura, not far from Hokitika, and having already sustained reverses at their hands, he withdrew from his pa in the dead of night, and retired into the wilderness (Hochstetter's "New Zealand," p. 222)» With a desire to give the vague and differing rumours a concrete form I hare woven my story, "The Legend of the Wandering JLake," which I have endeavoured £0 tell in rhyme, as being the most fitting medium for sucn a tale. TO THE WANDERING LAKE. T» Anau, sov'reign lake, how can I sing The grandeur which, with rarest beauty blent Constrains from me the tribute which I bring, The loying reVrenoo which in song seeks vent I Would I had power 1 'Twould in thy praise be spent. Unworthy is the song I seek to raise. Alas! I lack the skill to fitly praise The scenes majestic Nature here displays. No words can tell the feelings which arise As, waiting for the truant wind, I float On thy calm bosom, 'neath the sunny skies, While every feature, fair and stern, I note. la scenes like these I best can realise ±h« poet s fancy, and with reverent eyes, Uaze on the- garment of Creation's Lord Ihy circling massive mountains high denote Majestic might, and unto me afford A glimpse of the eternal, and promote" A sense of awe, which still does well accord With softer feelings waked by bosky trees, And sunbeams sparkle where the laggard In playful dalliance kiss'd the waters' face. These give deep pleasure; but to analyse It and its sources- trace were useless taskFor if it be not felt no man need ask How in my bosom can it find a place? Y.e who have felt it, ye can sympathise. Did the swart Maori, in the olden days Thy pleasing spell and witching charm e'er _ * When 'mid thy beauties lay his daily ways, Would thoughts he could not utter o'er him steal? What although voiceless died his thoughts of praise, Ho must have loved thy waters, wand'rine lake. Loved, 100, thy consort fair, thy fitting queen, Lake of the darkened heart; whose beauty rara, And bosom decked -with gems of deepest green, In happier bard shall inspiration wake. IN TIME OP PEACE. Pare, to Kupe lately wed, Urged her new lord to sail the lake. "We'll paddle to the isles," she said, "And ramble through each bushy brake. We'll choose an islet for our home. And ' build a cosy whar-e there, Whither we'll hie in days to come, With no one our retreat to share. Nigh is the forest, where we'll find Birds plenty to supply our food; To catch the roa I'm inclined That hides within the darkspme woodi' rll make a> mat of roa skins, A handsome feathered mat of brown, To deck my lord; a robe that wins Envy from all,- and brings renown. Th« fattest pigeons I shall snare, The silly bird, whose snowy breast Gleams through the trees, shall be our fare: — Come, then, my lord, and aid my quest." But Kiipe answered, "Foolish one, We here have plenty; wherefore go Forth from out friends, as none have done, Alone; even although you won The robe you long for so. Eo«3 don't hide 'neath every tree, A foolish errand ours would be: — > I needs must answer, No." "Alone with Kupe I should hay*. All that I need, all that I crave. Yet still the lake seems calling me, ' Come, come with Kupe, come and hi Alone with him and love.' " Thus Pare still her suit would press, Her feelings Kupe could not guess; But, yielding to his new-wed spouse. At length reluctantly allows To Pare's wish success. Sd to the shore a-t early dawn, Across its fringing, dewy lawn, Their gladsome way they take. The tuneful morning song of praise, Which wild birds now in concert raisej Comes mellowed o'er the- lake. A rude canoe, a hollow'd tree, They swiftly from its moorings free, And in it on the waters ride. Then pushing from the pebbly strand* Ea-ch paddle grasps with ready hand, And beats the yielding tide. Fair Nature's spell fills Pare's heart, She is constrained to bear * part In Nature's joyousness. She with the birds in concert sings, And to her lips a rude song springs,-* She must her joy confess. Over the lake, Hoea te waka! Steady strokes niakef Hoea! -'Neath the bright sun, Hoea, te waka! Day's just begun, Hoea! Winds are asleep, Hoea. te waka! Good time we keeo< Hoeal Smoothly we ride, Hoea te waka! Swiftly we glide, Hoea! Now let us float, Hoea te waka! The shore is remote, Hoea! Onward we go, Hoea te waka! While the sun's low> Hoea! Ere lift is high, Hoea te waka! The isle will be nigli, Hoea! Now with a will, Hoea te •wabaj Keep good time still, Hoea! Artless her strain, it wiles the way;' Kupe, unwittingly, absorbs Some of her sprightly lore of play, And shares 'the ]'oy her gleeful worda And fiimple song around her throw; As from the beauties circling hex

A subtle essence seems to flow ; So from her spirits' joyous stir His a reflected gladness know. How close dependent on our kind Our gladness or our gloom, The radiance of some joyous mind Fills ours, and scarce there's roonS For troubled thought or waary care, Which erst lay pressing sore. So to the gladsome spell so fair We yield; our gloom is o'er. Or if perchance by weighty woe Some loved one be oppressed, Our mirror souls, reflecting, show Disquiet and unrest. E'en as you sco on this fair lake, The waters and the mountains take Their colours from the sky : ' Now brightest blue, and shining green, In sunlight, soon both dark are seen When heavy clouds hang nigh. High was the sun when round them laj Full many a rocky isle; On every side they bar the way; Yet, though as to beguile, Th« winding channels tempt them oa To open to tho view Island on island, till, anon, Their course they scarcely knew. Each island is with verdure clad, Resplendent in tho sun Th« bright leaves gleam. Pare is gla3 That such a goal they've won. And now her childish fancy sees Quaint semblances in wind-trimmed trees:! To Kupe shows each one. Here many a, little rocky gem Bears tufts of crimson rata bloom;' Like lcaka, plumes they seem to them, Each rock a. tattooed face of gloom. A larger island they have gained, And, ipringing to its rocky shore, Pare climbed upwards to explore, While Kup» by their bark remained. Lik-e sportive child, so full of glee, Over th» islet rambled ehe, To seek a sheltered spot. "If only Kup© will agree, Here shall we cast our lot." Then, having found a fitting place— A sheltered hollow in the rock, V7hich, roofed with boughs, the winds may mock, — __» She hies her back apace. Their frugal store she now ransacks, Ta furnish forth their midday meal; What though it choicest dainty lacks, Such want will appetite conceal ; Whilo they to quench their thiret may take Th* crystal waters of th© lake-. As thus awhjia they quiet rest, Two silent gi*>e, with rufous crest And dusky plumes, sail idly by. Fearless of man, each snowy breast Makes aoarce » ripple, as they ply Their hidden oara, and seem to glida As carried on a, flowing tide. A jocund tui from th© wood Flies to the island where they sit, From rata bough to bough to flit, Rifling the blossoms of their store. Anon he sings in joyous mood, Then darts back to the shore. "Whither the tui hasty sped, Let us now seek," fair Pare said To Kupe, who had drowsy gTown, "And bring from thence the boughs to make A whare, which the hours > will take Till daylight's from us flown. The branches -which these isles adortt Shall ever tapu be: Oh, never may the man be born Who here would fell a tree!" They gained Te Anau's western side, And paddled to a stony strand, Where, landing, to the bush they hied, To cut the boughs as they had planned. A balmy air the forest fills, The garish sun is quenched by trees; Each topmost bough a, gentle breeze Sways softly, flecking all below With shade and sunlight's radiant glow, And mellowed light distils. The beauties of the sylvan shade, Kupe and Pare do not mark; Their task they ply aa though afraid Of fleeting day and coming dark. The fittest for their ends they take, Some saplings fell, and branches glean}' That they a fragrant bed may make, The fair manuka is laid low. Its flowery stars of purest sheen Restrain not Kupe's ruthless blow. E'en Pare, who loved beauty so, Its bloom ne'er paused to view. She heeded not the beauty rare The tap'ring wreathed branches bear—* Only their uss she knew. How lightly, often, do we prize The beauty of some cbmrnon thing, The loving light in woman's eyes, The tender green of grass in spring, The oft-seen landscape, or the sky Of unstained blue, or flecked with cloud, The common flowers which round us lie; Were they but rare, how men would vis To sound their praise aloud. Ere wearied day had gone to rest Their self-imposed task was done ; To slumber in the furthest west Behind the mountains sank the sun, Just as the tired pair had made Of branches a close cov'ring shade And snugly lined their cosy nest With tender twigs of pleasant scent, Whose flow'ry stars already fade: The fleeting daylight went. Awhile the ling'ring sxinbearns gild The fleecy cloudlets sailing high, The evening grey the breezes stilled. And drew her shadows 'thwart the sky: Then sparkling 'mid the gathering gloom. Star after star, its twinkling lamp Hangs in the ether, to illume The wand'rers' lonely camp. Now soon they to their couch repair^ Whose aromatic fragrance rare The rustic whare fills; Leaving the stare their watch to k'eep>j And drea-ming not of coming ills, They lose themselves in steep. At early morn their way they taks the wateia of tho lake, Where far each fiord winds. In the grand beauty Pare finds A pleasure and a charm. They sail along the winding shore, With leafy birch trees hanging o'eU The water from ea-ch vantage point. Along the rocks, from seam and joint, Clings oft a, rooty arm. They sail to where a waterfall Comes pouring down the mountain wall-* A fall without a- name. Ta Waitiri, splashing water, It was called by the chief's daughter. Though this melodious name is lost, Its waters still are wildly tossed, Its grandeur is the same. As, spellbound, Pare gazes long Upon its waters, leaping strong, To her these waters sing this song, With resonant acclaim: Leaping, dashing, Plunging, splashing, Headlong down the mountains sia»; Now we are free, And sing with glee, We'll on high no longer bid*

Springing, gushing, Falling, rushing, Down into the lake we go; Long have- we lain In woe and pain In the fields of ice and snow. Leaping, springing, Gushing, singing, From our prison up on high; By cold enchained We long remained On the mountain near the sky. Pouring, jetting, Struggling, fretting, In the lake we'll rest below; The, wayward spray A while may play, Soon we'll peace and quiet know. Ten days or more the roving pair Disported in these wilds so fair; Both lake and forest furnished food. They fished the lake, while in the -wood They speared the pig-eons as they fed On miro berries rip© and red. The- noisy kakaa, too, they snare, Lure them with simulated cry; The birds, too curious to be ware The loop bedecked, approach and die, At times they wander in the wood, Or paddle o'er the lake, As prompted Pare's changing mood, Merely for pleasure's sake. Th«y watch the tiny wrenleta play Among the birch leaves small : They often mark at closs of day The night birds' eerie call. One day, when wan-d'ring in the bush, When all was still, came through the husli Which over Nature seamed to fall The bush crow's melancholy note. Sounding his straying mate to call, Which pensive chord in -Pare emote, And made to Kupe say, "My heart is darkened, and I f«ar Some hidden danger coming near,— Let us return, I pray." "Back to the pa would you return ? You have not won of roa skins Enough to make the robe that wins Envy from all, and makes men burn To hay« a wife Hke you. But back again I'll gladly go, Though pleasant here has T»een our stay; Where's naught to harm, why timid grow? What you should fear I do not know; When morrow dawns we'll hie away Back o'er the lake so blue." (To he continued.)