THE OLD PINE TREES, AND WHAT THEY SAW AND HEARD.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume IX, Issue 41, 8 October 1892, Page 1013

THE OLD PINE TREES, AND WHAT THEY SAW AND HEARD.

(By Jean.) $ MOXGST other things the Maories talked of O amongst themselves, and with a view of handing down their legends to their children, were the moas, great big birds, they said, as high as trees, and as big as Mabel Island. Well, yon know, we thought that could not be true, and it was a long, long time before we left oft' shaking our heads over such a dreadful story. But they stuck to it, and said that when the earthquake tossed up Maoriland, it tossed up moas and many other strange creatures, most of which were exterminated by the oldest residents for food, but the moa being so very big, they were afraid of it, and so it outlasted all the other strange creatures. When the moa was first cast up, it was covered with scales, but time and change of climate caused them all to tall off, and feathers grew instead ; and they laid eggs as big as a porpoise, one of which lasted the first inhabitants for a whole moon. The moas talked too—in fact, the first inhabitants forgot their own native island language and took to moa—which is short for Maori—quite naturally. The Maoris could never tell how the birds got to Maoiiland. so I asked a kaka one day if he remembered. ‘ Well,’ he replied, ‘ I remember my great-great greatgrandfather telling me that his great great great-great-grandfather told him that his great great-great-great-grandfather—’ * Bother your great-great-grandfathers,’ I cried, impatiently. • Can you not remember anything yourself?’ ‘ Of course I do,’ said red breast. ‘ I remember everything that has happened in this century. I am nearly a century old, and all my respected ancestors lived for a century, and all my descendants would live for a century if it were not for the new race of mortals who have come to our shores, with a curious limb of one of your species, which they point at you and down you go. It’s a kind of magic they call a gun. I came here to be out of the way of it. There are a good many of them on Te Au Island.’ ‘But about the moas,’l asked, interrupting the loquacious bird. ‘ Tell me about the moas.’ ‘ Well, you see. I lived a century, my father lived a century, my grandfather lived a century, my great-grand-father lived a century, my great-greatgrandfather lived a century, my great great-great-grandfather lived a century. Wait a bit, let’s count up how many centuries that makes before we go any further, because you see I haven’t fingers enough to count more than eight at a time, and that makes How many did I say ! I really believe I shall have to count them all over again. Now, while I count on my fingers you must cheek me by calling out one, two, etc. Be ready now. I live a century.’ ‘ One,’ I called out as the kaka held up one claw. ‘ My father lived a century.’ ‘ Two,’ I cried, marking time with a cheerful nod to the two claws held up. ‘ My grandfather lived a century.’ ‘ Three. ’ • My great-grandfather lived a century.' ‘ Four.' ‘ My ! Wait a bit till I get a firm hold. My great-great-grandfather lived a century.’ ‘ Five.’ ‘ My great great-great grandfather lived a century.’ ‘ Six.’ ‘ My great great great-great-grandfather lived a century.’ ‘ Seven. We’re getting at it now, kaka. What a genius you are ! ‘ Go on.’ ‘ And I am hanging up by one claw. What am I to do when I hold that one up ? Oh ! I know, I'll catch hold of you with my beak. Well, heie goes. My ! No, that’s not it. Your—no that can’t be it either, because trees never had any ancestors. His—ah ! that’s it. His, that is my great-great-great great grandfather’s grandfather lived a century.’ ‘ Eight,’ I cried, joyfully. ‘ Go on.' ‘ Num, num, num,’ mumbled the kaka, trying to speak with his mouth full and hold on at the same time—a feat no one can do properly—and so, as a matter of course, he fell to the ground, and lay there too exhausted to come back and finish the list of centuries his people had lived in Maoriland. When I came to think of it I had obtained little or no information about the moa, from kaka. Talkative people never do give you any information except about themselves so I stood to consider, whom next to consult. If only I could travel, and find out for myself, but I was rooted to the spot. I looked round for other means, I saw a weka, and a kiwi, but alas, I couldn't stoop to them, neither could they fly into my arms. They were wingless, and just the kind of bird to answer my purpose, having been in Maoriland before ever the birds had learned to fly. Whilst I consulted with my friend about what was to be done, a great hawk sailed along in the air, and swooped down upon the kiwi, and before I had got over my horror, there he was cooly sitting on one of my limbs. I thrashed myself backwards and forwards till he was forced to drop his prey, which I kept and fed, and nursed till she was able to reply to my enquiries about the moa. •Well you know,’said the kiwi, ‘when the moa, the weka, and myself, were thrown upon dry land, we were

quite out of our natural element, and after a time all our scales fell off, and feathers grew instead ; but as there weie no trees in those days for us to fly into, we did not require wings, so they nevet grew. But centuries afterwards, when the trees had grown, and birds were made with wings, we three, were so unlike other birds that we were shy of appearing in public, and only came out at night when all the other birds had gone to bed. There are plenty of people who say that the moas are all dead and gone, and that the wekas and kiwis are dying out too, but that is not true. If these people were to go into the interior, and keep watch by night, they would find plenty of moas, and of our species too.’ ‘ Dear, dear, I thought that my ancestors were the oldest inhabitants of the world, but even those queer creatures who cover themselves up at night with our branches, were here before us, at least they say so.’ ‘ Can you sing !’ asked the kiwi, ‘ because that is a test of ancient lineage. People who can sing may always assure themselves that their ancestors were dwellers on the earth in some form or other ages ago.’ ‘ I’m afraid I’m too wooden,' I replied, ‘ but I’ll try.’ And I did try my very hardest, tried till my voice cracked, but it was no use, not a note could I raise, and I gave it up in despair, and asked the kiwi to favour my relations and myself with her national anthem, and would you believe it, she straightway opened her long beak and sang : ■ Kiwi, kiwi. kiwi. I’m perched up high in a tree. How I’ll ever get down, without breaking my crown. It's not in my nature to see. Kiwi, kiwi, kiwi, come all of you listen to me. Beware of a hawk, who goes out for a walk. And flies with you up on a tree. The wekas and moas and me are not made to fly up a tree. We haven't a wing, so we only can sing Kiwi, oh! kiwi, on! kiwi Oh! wekas and moas look out, and just mind what you are about. Just mind what I say. don't go out by day. And search all the bushes about. Kiwi, kiwi, kiwi, up here I am on a tree : Therein lies the sting, for I haven't a wing. Kiwi, oh ! kiwi, oh! kiwi!’ I didn’t bargain for kiwi singing forth her complaint to the world, so 1 just dropped her gently down, from limb to limb, and she ran into the bushes to hide away from all the other birds and daylight.