Roimata, the Castaway.

New Zealand Illustrated Magazine, Volume III, 1 October 1900, Page 45

Roimata, the Castaway.

By Rama

n w/u& 0P nmm-wfi

devouring sea

Illustrated by Kennett Walkim

HE incident of the ship- | wreck, with the rescue ■ and subsequent death of I the little English girl, was i described to my grandI father by a native in the

early seventies, as having occurred in quite pre-

pakeha days. " Relate unto us a tale of the olden time, 0 ruruhi r Thus spake Tito Tepuna, and from such lips the words came with all the force of a command. Behind the rangatira was his little son Tito Potiki. Still as a mouse was he, and not unlike one, with his smooth, brown skin and bright black eyes. Of clothes he felt no need in that warm atmosphere ; fortunately Maori custom required none. Tito never forgot that scene, nor the tale he heard that night. The living embers of the matai fire cast a dull glow upon the motley crowd of faces and the fantastic ' f carving of the heavy beams of the lohare- * runanga, and gleamed brightly upon the ipaua shell with which the design was inlaid. There sat the noble Tepuna ; his straight figure and high-bred features looking like a carving deftly cut from heart of puriri. In the admiring eyes of his little son, Aotea-roa had produced no greater hero. Crouching over the fire so closely as almost to singe the feathers of the valuable mat she wore, leaning upon her short, elaborately carved staff, her dim eyes hidden beneath H her shaggy hair, slowly rocking to and fro I wn^ e crooning a monotonous chant, sat the I * Copyright.

ntruhi. The only effect at first produced by the words of Tepuna was the silence which fell upon the audience as the ancient ceased her song; then raising her high, cracked voice she began her tale.

" Thy words are as the words of the wine, 0 rangatira, for who should toll of the olden days if not the /aria, whose youth is renseinbcred not by the generations of to-day. Our fathers tell of the olden times when the Alua walked this earth, and mortals must needs live craftily if they would escape the vengeance of these rulers of our destiny. Matakite has not been given to our family, that we might see into the future and unveil the mysteries of the past; yet, have I beheld strange and wondrous things unknown among you — children as ye are !

Know then that T was the daughter of the great Tareha, distinguished among all the tribes of the north, not for the wisdom of his words, but for the size of his person and the strength of his arm. Ah had been his fathers for untold generations, so was he, a tino toa, who feared no foe. Great was the mana of Tareha, and never so great as when he slew with his enchanted mere and afterwards devoured three chiefs of Ngatiwhatua, who had dared to land upon our coasts.

At that time I was a girl reaching nearly to my mother's shoulder, well able to understand and remember the things I beheld, and Tareha was in my eyes almost as the gods. The hvi to which wo belonged had a strong pa upon the sea-coast, and fertile taro and kumera cultivations further inland. No other tribe dare live so near Te

Reinga, and it was meet we should observe things unknown to dwellers in the South. Never have these eyes beheld the awful cliffs where grow those enchanted pohutukawa trees, whence descend the spirits of the dead on their journey to their last abode ; yet has my heart grown faint as I cowered beside my mother in the whare-puni, and the fire burned low, while I heard the whistle of hurrying souls as they fled beneath the stars to take the final plunge. Then was the air filled with the soft flutter of innumerable wings, as the birds gathered by ones and twos, then by flocks, and at last

by multitudes, to bid farewell to Aotea-roa ere they rose, and in one mighty mass took their flight to the regions of the North.

I have told you, 0 my children, how my father slew and ate three chiefs of Ngatiwhatua. Now it happened that these were three brothers, sons of a powerful rangatira, and beside them he had no child. Therefore was the wrath of Kitengaro kindled against Tareha, and against all our people. This Kitengaro was a mighty sorcerer, learned in all the secrets of nature, and high in favour with the gods. Great as was the courage of my father, he trembled when our tohunga made known to him the names of those

whose lives he had taken— for who can withstand the auger of the gods ? and endless were the spells by which Kitengaro could bring calamity upon his enemies. Long and anxious were the councils of our kaumatw, but unless our tohunga could learn the nature of the spell employed he was powerless to avert our doom.

The summer passed, the kumeras were gathered in, and careful indeed were our women to omit no Icarakia ordained to be used upon these solemn occasions, and thus enable the wicked sorcerer to inflame the wrath of the Atua against our iwi. The

harvest was plentiful, Tangaroa had sent us abundance of fish, and we began to hope the gods were not to be moved by the incantations of Kitengaro— son of evil as he was.

It was the first months after the ingathering of the kumera. The moon was young, and lay upon her back ; the ancient Bona hid her face from our gaze, which is a sign to beware, and prepare for approaching calamity. As I looked from the door oi the whare-puni ere sleep fell upon my eyes I observed the clouds rushing in vast masses across the sky, while the suvf began to break upon the coast with a roar like that of the taniwha, which inhabit the caverns of the

deep. Even in our well-built sleeping-house the noise of the storm was such as to shake our slumbers and send fear to our hearts. For several days Te Ra refused to look upon the earth, and dark and cheerless was our lot.

When three days had passed, the rain no longer poured in ceaseless streams, and we, the children, stole forth to discover what treasures the sea had cast upon our shores. Then, indeed, a wondrous vision appeared. Upon the incoming tide, and borne by the resistless force of the fierce South wind came a huge ship. To describe this vessel is beyond the power of words of mine. Strange tales have been told by those who say they have seen others like unto it. Who shall say? My eyes are old, old almost as the kauri growing yonder. Yet never has such another sight been revealed to them. It towered above the waves high as the ridgepole of this great house, while in size it was like a mountain. Its masts stood out against the sky as the stem of a tree fully grown. While we looked, and spoke not for fear, there came from its bosom a cloud of smoke, followed by a roar which shook the cliffs around us, and echoed, again and again, from the recesses of the forest. Terror stricken, we hid among the rocks, cowering together by reason of the horror which caused our knees to shake and our teeth to chatter. This could be no mortal canoe, however strange, but some new and terrible taniwha. Thus we spake, and much we wondered if the monster would devour us all. Yet I have since had reason to think it was but a vessel, though whether built by human hands I cannot say. lam old, and know there are many things in this world not to be understood by the mind of man.

Oat from the point which sheltered our pa ran a reef of jagged rocks, like the teeth of a shark. Upon this reef the object, be it ship or taniwha, must certainly be cast. With furious force it came upon the crest of an enormous billow, and with a crash, which made the heart quail, lay embedded amid the rocks. Then did we see the strange thing to be verily a ship, for as the

seething waters rushed hither and thither, it broke into many pieces, and to those portions clung figures, we supposed to bo those of men. Yet, indeed, such objects woro never seen before. Their faces and hands were whiter than those of tho fairost of our people, and the hair of nearly all in colour like that of a dog, yellow or rod. Their bodies appoared to be dark until we found they were covered with garments the shape of their limbs. Many were washed ashore, but in none of them remained the breath of life. Long ere this our fear had been conquered by the desire

to behold all these strange things, and the whole iwi was gathered on the beach, running, shouting, and leaping into the waves, to snatch some treasure from the

The fury of the storm had somewhat subsided, and the tide was near the turn, when there came to shore a larger portion of the wreck. To it was lashed the form

of a man of noble build, and features needing only the tattooer's skill to make them a joy to look upon. His head and face were covered with much yellow hair, while in his strong arms was still clasped a little white girl. Round her body, and binding her to the man, was a heavy mat of most curious make. So thick and strong it was, as to have preserved the little figure from rocks and cold ; iudeed, as far as we could see, she was entirely unharmed. Mine were the arms to receive her as they took the little one from the embrace of the dead. Doubtless he was her father, for she broke away from me and flung herself upon the body, uttering strange cries, and wailing in a way that went to my heart. At last they carried her to our whare, and from that time throughout all the mouths she remained with us, she was the lightof mylife."

Here the feelings of the old woman overcame her, and silence, broken only by her heavy sobs, reigned in the whare-runanga. Then with a wild wail she cried, " 0 my little white bird, shall ever these eyes again behold thy form so well beloved ? Doubtless thou earnest from the world of light, and hast returned to the abode of the gods ; yet does my heart cry for thee, as in the days of youth. Alas ! My friends— Alas ! Alas ! For my love could not comfort the heart of the stranger maiden, nor my words assuage her woe. So tilled with love was I, that when all else failed, I would hold her in my arms and join my tears with hers. We called her Roimata, for tears were as meat, and drink, and sleep, to the pakeha child. At times, when I led her away into the forest, where we gathered flowers and berries, and watched the birds at play, she would forget her grief, and sounds sweet and low as those of a singing bird would fall from her lips. Yet only for the shortest time. Then would she hasten to the shore, and moan and cry in words strange to hear, yet always the same ; and so sad was the sound that my heart was like to break with hers.

At first our people gazed at the little Roimata with unkind eyes. A thing so strange,

said they, must be a harbinger of ill, and much they counselled my father to make away with my pet. When I heard their words, and observed their glances, my anger was roused, and in my fury I declared that if the white child came to harm, that very day I would die by my own hand. Tareha knew it was no idle threat. He had beheld a well loved sister do this very thing when little older than myself ; for the women of our race were gifted with a fine coui'ageoiis spirit, and the desire of our hearts was not to be denied. Therefore the little Roimata remained until all our people loved her, from the rangatira down to the child of the meanest slave. Thus in ministering to my pet, and in watching for any sign of returning joy in her life, the short winter of the North sped quickly away, and the earth awoke to the gladness of summer. The waves danced and smiled, the flowers glorified the sunny glades, and all the kainga was astir with fishing, drying, planting, weeding; until the curse of Kitengaro became as a forgotten tale. Much I trusted the sunshine would restore happiness to the breast of my .Roimata, but alas, she grew slighter and move frail ; and still she cried by night and day. In vain our people cooked for her the daintiest morsels; she could not eat; and although she clung to me, 1 felt with bitter pain that never could I induce her to forget those pakeha people for whom she wept. Let me not linger. Doubtless they called, although their voices were unheard by me. Only her tears answered them, until her spirit took its flight. She had wept her life away. For us this was only the beginning of sorrows. Never did the curse of Kitengaro lift its shadow until I became, as ye behold me, a desolate old woman, the last of my line, and with none to carry down the honour and glory of my ancestors. Very soon my mother died, leaving to my care a little infant. I took it to my sore heart and trusted it would prove a comforter,

but its dead mother could not be content ; she called, and the tamaiti stretched otxt his arms and left me with a smile upon his baby lips. Then a blighting" sickness seized the rangatira. His huge frame wasted to a skeleton, and soon he went to join his ancestors. So unusual were our misfortunes that onr friends in distant kningas heard of them, and to show their sympathy, and the strength of their affection, deprived us of

all wo possessed and burned our boloved pa. It was to bo expected. What else could they do ? Yet it left our tribe broken and 'homeless ; a feeble fragment upon the face of the earth. What will you, friends? Such is the power of the gods— and the forces of evil triumph. Cursed be the head of Kitongaro, forever, and forever. Heoi it no ! Kainutu ! 1 sleep the sleep of the weary.