SOME EARLY MAORI REMINISCENCES.

Wairarapa Age, 19 March 1920, Page 3

SOME EARLY MAORI REMINISCENCES.

Te Pihanga's Feast

(By the lato Lieut.-Col. McDonnell.

In the early days o| the Colony nearly all the work on the settlers' stations was done by natives, who were usually paid by the week, every j Saturday afternoon, the average payment being a shirt or pair of trousers, four or fivo figs of negro head tobacco, a Jew's harp, or a pipe. The natives were found in potatoes or kumaras, and now and then a piece of pork was added, which was held to be a rare treat. They generally used to stay for six months, and as a rule worked well at any labour they were put-to. The pakeha work was considered by them rather a relaxation from the work they were accustomed to at their tribal settlements; for if they were not falling heavy bush, preparatory to burning and planting, they were employed in digging and otherwise preparing ground for wheat or maize; turning over acres and acres with the spade, reaping threshing, making colsely woven baskets of prepared flax to contain the grain when ready for market, against the arrival of the fleet of coasters that used to convey the harvests to Auckland. Each basket in itself was quite a work of art. Then there would' be preparing for huge feasts, snaring birds, fishing, eeling, etc.; their time was fully occupied. These peaceful pursuits were often, however, interupted by raids or Tauas, which were chiefly brought about by various accidents, if, indeed, such they could be called.

It may safely be said that the Northern and Bay of Plenty Maoris, thirty years ago, used to grow 5000 bushels of wheat where they grow one bushel now, and I believe that this is well within the fact. It is true that numbers have died out from various causes, but the habits of industry have disappeared almost altogether. The first attempt made by a small but energetic tribo of natives I knew to raise wheat was rather a curious | one. Thoy tried to grow rice also! An acre, or thereabouts, of rich was dug over by them, one spade deep; after which they trod and beat it down with the flat of the spqdes until it was quite hard and smooth. The wheat was then strewed over it, about ten bushels being used. Soon after the work was finished a European chanced to come that way, and, his attention being drawn to the patch, he, with some difficulty, persuaded the people of tho mistake they had made. Convinced at length of their error, the chief priest ordered out all the old women to pick up the grain. This proving too slow, they made manuka brooms, with which they swept the grains up, taking but little earth with them, as the ground had been patted down so hard.

Any work, such as fencing or splitting, an agreement was made with the natives. In nearly all cases where this was done, and the natives fully comprehended what they had undertaken, they fulfilled their contract, unless warned off by superstition, in which case nothing wouid compel them to finish it. When this occurred, il often l<3d to misunderstandings and trouble, an instance of which I will relate.

To Pilianga, Pikirarunga, and Taugiwaka accepted a contract to split and put up a piece of taiapa (upriglit stab | fence), five hundred kumes (fathoms) lin length. They were to find all the material. The payment was to be so I many blankets, shirts, yards of .print.tobacco, pipes, flints, and files to strike a light with. And, as Te Pihanga was passionately fond of high-class music, a few Jew's harps. After the stuff was on the ground, Pikirarunga, who by this time had drawn in advance of his work, said his aunt was dying, having been bewitched by an old sorcerer. He accordingly left, saying he would return soon. This he forgol to do. Pihanga and Tangiwaka commenced to put up the fence, but do clared that they must be fed, but, as this was not in the contract, the request was refused. After a few days' work, Tangiwaka said he had had a dream which conveyed to him the news that his sister was going to be ill. A week after this he said that his dream had come true, as a messenger had reached him to say she was dying. On the strength of this he obtained a new blanket to wrap her in, and six yard 3 of calico for her winding sheet; he had already drawn his full share of the contract. Ho said he would return shortly with a canoe load of kumeras. But, not finding his sister dead, as he had expected, he got pouri (out of spirits) and remained absent., Te Pihanga informed us that Tangiwaka was a dreadful liar, and it was all a story about his sister, but that he only wanted some calico to make white shirts. '' Why, then, did you not say so?" "Because," he replied, "I was never asked!" "He viffia't return," said Tc Pihanga, "but I will finish tho work myself, but, "he continued, "as tho captain will not supply me food, I expect I will die in a few days, before I can roach the end of the fencing.''

To Pihanga was a tall, sparo man, and his capacity 'for taking iii food was enormous." However, he braced up his flax belt around his empty stomach, tho skin of which lie drew the attention of my brother and myself to; it hung in, not graceful, but even folds over his belt, like an empty brown leathern carpet bag! That day passed by. On the morrow wc both went to see To Pihanga at his work, he being' a kind old savage, and oftentimes used to build flax boats for us to sail on tho river. He sighed as we came up to him. "I am nearly done," he said, "my hunger is too great, but I have taken another pull at my flax belt." Another day passed, but all ho had to cat were a few potatoes; these he roasted in the ashos. Wo now determined to use our wits, and give Te Pihanga good dinner, and, in tho pur- | suit of knowledge, just to find out how much he could' eat at one square meal. Potatoes we obtained easily from the garden; wo procured about six pounds of rice and sugar to sweeten it with

from the pantry. How to get the pork was a mors difficult matter, but the sight we had seen had moved our boyish compassion for old Pihanga (who was really a strong, lazy fellow of about forty years of age. I often think how he must have -chuckled to himself). "Well, we obtained, by means best known to ourselves, a flitch of bacon from where it had, with several others, been hanging for our winter's ose, and fled with it to where old Pihanga was working, having first asked and obtained a holiday. To Pihanga's eyes rolled in ecstasy. A steam oven was soon got ready for the potatoes, about half a kit full; a three-legged "go ashore" (iron pot) was placed on three stones over the fire, with the rice in it; and our cook's largest frying-pan, which we had borrowed when she was off her guard, was filled with huge lumps of bacon from the flitch, which Te Pihanga had cut into junks with the adze! The potatoes and Ibacon were soon cooked, and put into a large open kit, the rice was pronounced "maoha" (cooked), and the pot set in a shallow 3tream of water to cool. The fryingpan, which was as full as it could hold of bacon fat, was placed on a log to get cold. Then Pihanga neated himself with a grunt of satisfaction, drew the basket of food close to him, and began to devour his meal. We, highly delighted, had watched him as he undid his flax belt, which he hung over the fence; he was stripped to his hips, and as the leathern bag soon began to develop itself, fold after fold was shaken out. "Will it ever bo full?" we thought, but still our friend went on munching. In about a quarter of an hour, the first course had disappeared, all but the rinds of the bacon, which he had placed in' a little heap close to him, intending to chew them up at his leisurel The rice and sugar soon followed the first lot. "He never can have eaten all that too," we thought—so much for our knowledge, but the inside of the iron" pot had been licked clean. "Are you full now and satisfied, Pihanga?" we asked, as he grunted. "Taihoa," ho responded, ; • wait till I look at the frying-pan." The grease being pronounced coot enough for drinking, he first filled' (t largo mussel shell with tat to make i lamp to give him light to carve an old spear he had had in hand for some time; and then, bowing his head down to the pan, he finished the lot, about ; a quart, in two breaths. "Won't that make you sick?" we inquired, ! ' Sick!" said Pihanga. "Siclc? Waa not the. food good ? Why, then, should I get rid of it? X could have eaten more if you had brought it, but you did what you could, and it was good of you, but bring more the next time!"

Pilianga went on with; his work faithfully, but one day, as he was following the line traced and pegged out for him to fence, he turned up with his spade an old Maori cooking oven. This, he discovered, had been used to cook human bodies in; there was the lower jaw of a man, ribs, and broken thigh bones. Te Pihanga was fairly at his wit's end with fright. Chucking down his tools, he returned to the settlement. "Kua mate rawa ahau'' (I am entirely killed), he Baid. "I cannot finish the work. "You,'? Kfe said to Captain -—, "have caused my death. I must leave; I cannot return to my work." But, as Te Pihanga had drawn all he would be entitled to, the Captain began to remonstrate with him; but it was of no use; ho would ro. Words ensued, and the result was lighly exciting.- Te Pihanga, all of i sudden, put down his head and came cull butt%t the: captain. One straight 'rom the shoulder floored our friend, .vho rose, shook his hoad, and gave mother run. This time he got right ind left, and down he dropped as if ho had been shot. I thought he was killed. The captain went up, stood Dver him, and turned him over. All of a sudden, and as quick as lightning, he rose with head and shoulders between the Captain's legs, and sent him spinning in the air, and then cut and ran for his bare life! "The beggar was too quick for me that time," said the Captain, "but he is a plucky chap, and I forgive him." After a few weeks Te Pihanga returned, and explained that he could now finish the contract, as the tribal Pohunga had made matters all rigat for him with the dead man's spirit. This was a satisfactory ending for all parties concerned, and Pihanga, after his work- was finished, returned to his village quite contented.