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Te Ao Hou, September 1955, Page 20

SONGS OF THE MAORI by W. W. BIRD The tangi or lament The tangis or laments have distinct characteristics. Pain and sadness linger in the heart and well up in grief and wretchedness, wailing and lamentation. The outward sign of this is laceration of their bodies, calling out to the gods, farewells to the dead followed by curses invoked upon the man or the tribe who caused the death, and urging the relatives of the warrior to take revenge. From whatever occasion they may arise, the tangis form the greater part of the Maori songs. Of the two hundred printed in these two volumes,* Sir Apirana Ngata's Nga Moteatea, Vol. I and II one hundred and two are tangis, and if are included some of the love songs, which may rightly be classed as tangis, this number would be greatly exceeded. The tangis may be grouped according to their subjects:— First, laments for the warrior, the chieftain of the tribe who has fallen in battle or in open combat. Death in battle was the glory of the ancestors of the Maori, the mantle wrapped round them by Tumatauenga, the god of war. The tangi of Te Heuheu Tukino II for his father Te Heuheu Tukino I says:— Haere, e pa, i te hahatanga o Pipiri. E kore au e mihi, me i riro ana koe I te puta tu ata, i whakarakea i te awatea Depart, o father, when the land lies desolate in the depths of winter, No grief should I have felt hadst thou been taken Falling gloriously in open fight, sweeping everything before you in the bright daylight In their minds, such a death was no matter for grief or tears. Thus laments Kahukaka for her son Ngahua whom Ngapuhi murdered:— I haere te makau, e, i te ara kohuru; Kihai i tangohia, e, i te mate rakau. By treacherous means my loved one met his death No tears would I have shed had he fallen before the spear of his enemy. Listen to what Te Rore sings in his lament for his grandson, Te Ohonga:— Kaore he pouri me i hinga ana koe Ki te aroaro ra o te manu toheroa E tohu ana, e tama, he papakanga kei raro. No sadness would be felt hadst thou fallen Before a band of fiercely attacking warriors, A sure sign my son that thou art of noble blood. Thus, in the midst of their sorrow and gloom, they find consolation in the view that death in battle was a noble end. Here are Pahu's words of lament for her son Pango, slain by a war party under Te Heuheu at Tuaropaki, while he was engaged in planting potatoes: E hara au, e tama, he taonga whitiki na o matua Kia homai ana ko tuhua ki ahau. As for me, my son, war was that whereto your ancestors girded themselves. Hence has been given to me the stone wherewith to lacerate myself. Here is a fine verse from the lament of Ikaherengutu: E uia mai koe i nga whenua Ko te tama a wai? Ka toa, ka rangona; Ka tu i te ihu o te waka Ka rangona, ka amohia te iwi Ka tiketike ki runga. And if it should be asked among the peoples Whose son is this? He who is a brave warrior achieves fame. He stands at the prow of the canoe, His name is heard throughout the land He who exalts his tribe, is himself uplifted.

Thus the warrior's death was that to which his life was dedicated—death at the point of the spear in open fight even where all had been completely wiped out. Puhirawaho says when Waikato fell at Matakitaki before the guns of the Ngapuhi invaders under Pomare: E pai taku mate He mate taua Kei tua a Manuka Kei roto o Kaipara Kei nga iwi e maha. I should wish to die, Fighting with my men, Beyond the shores of Manuka, In the recesses of Kaipara Against a host of enemies. Amongst some of the laments for the fallen in battle are to be found words which refer to the gun of the European. It would be an excellent thing if someone collected these references as no one has yet examined with any care the extent to which the Maori customs in war were affected by the introduction of firearms, and the fear and trembling which they inspired amongst the tribes, when they first appeared. Next we have laments for the man killed by treachery or murder. The Maori always knew how to distinguish clearly between death from an enemy war party or death in open attack, and death by treachery. In his opinion, the last named was the worst form of death; it caused the greatest heart burning and aroused his blood with the determination to exact payment. There are also the deaths at the hands of a war party which are not classed as murders although only a single individual or a small party was involved. This is expressed in the proverbial saying He maroro kokoti ihu waka—a flying fish crossing the bow of the canoe. News is received that a large war party is on the march and a single man or small party elects to run the risk of crossing its track only to be trampled beneath its feet. In the preceding paragraphs some mention has already been made of killing by treachery. Here are other examples: Wharerakau for her murdered husband, Poututerangi: Tenei tata tonu kei te huka o te kaka Kiia ai pakura, e ora i te wareware. The cause of death is not far away; It is just as near as the hem of the garment As is said of the pakura (pukeko) who barely escaped death in this way. A death which must be avenged, however long this might take: E kore ra e houa i te po wananga I te pitau tutu, i te kowhai ka ngaora. The death will not be atoned for in the darksom night Or when the tutu sends up its tender shoots Or the kowhai bursts into flower. Death by treachery was not considered to be a noble death. Hone Rongomaitu says of his son Taneuarangi, murdered by Ngati-ira in the Tapuwaeroa valley: He mate kuare noa Te mate a te hoa He uri mate kuare No te whakaware nui a Whenua I te Ra-Kungia, te Moana Waipu I te mate kai-kino, i te Ratorua. An ignoble death, indeed, is thine, o son, But quite befitting your ill-fated descent From the victims of the great treachery of Whena Which led to the fights at Te Ra-Kungia and Te Moana Waipu And the shocking death at Ratorua. From Hawaiki comes the story of the great treachery of Whena, by whom were killed the children of Uenuku, whose payment of the account is referred to in this lament. This manner of death—murder—was contrived by deceit so that the victims were caught off their guard. Thus Te Maunu, a chief of Ngatimaru, was trapped when he and his son Ngahua were killed at sea. Ngapuhi at first showed themselves quite friendly. One day Te Maunu and his friends visited their camp. Ngapuhi persuaded Te Maunu and some of his people, amongst whom was his son Ngahua, to go out fishing with them in their canoe in order that they might be shown the best fishing grounds. Once out at sea, Ngapuhi killed them all. On the return, Kahukaka learned of the murder and there-upon composed this tangi:

Tu tonu te rae, e, i haere ai te makau E kai ana au, e, i te ika wareware E aurere noa, e, i te ihu o te waka E kore hoki au, e, e mihi ki a koe E mihi ana au, e, ki a Ngahua te hoa Taku kahui tara, e, no roto i au Tahu totara haemata, e, no roto no Moehau. Yonder stands the headland whence my loved one departed Wrapped in pleasant day dreams Sitting careless in the bow of the canoe. I do not mourn for thee so much my husband But I weep for Ngahua, my loved one My beautiful bird, my own offspring My stalwart young totara from the hills of Moehau. But she also vows vengeance: Kauaka e koaia, e, he ngahoa toki nui Ko wai tou, e, hei rangi i te mate? Ma Rohu-a-whiu, e, mana e homai. Do not be jubilant, this is a cleaving of the great axe whose sound will be heard afar. Who is he who will avenge thy death? Rohu-a-Whiu, he will see to it. And I may add that Te Rohu did see to it shortly afterwards with such effect that only one Ngapuhi canoe escaped from the disaster. Kokopu laments the death of Ngatiparekawa, slain treacherously by Ngatiraukawa through their kinsman Hihitaua. Here are the words in which the tohunga describes the deed: Hihitaua, riri whakawareware Ngakau kino tama, e, te uri o Te Huia I mohio to tupuna ki te whakatupapa. Hihitaua! versed in treachery Evil hearted offspring of Te Huia Your ancestors were skilled in setting traps. In this action, while still there were grievances of long standing between Ngatituwharetoa and Ngatiraukawa, the people were not on their guard as they should have been: Taka marire ki te hanga E whakamatakuria nei a te riri I moimoia ake te kuri, i tukutahuatia Hei utu mo nga hanga a Te Riupawhara Mo Wahine iti. But when it came to the serious business of fighting A thing which is usually dreaded They were decoyed as were dogs, heedless And were made a holocaust of In payment of the doings of Te Riupawhara To Wahine iti. Note also the tangi of Tarawha from his son Te Karae. Te Karae who was a half-fledged warrior was so carried away by his eagerness that he never turned his face to look back, otherwise he would have learned that he was treading a fateful path, where the oven of death lay open: E Tama, wareware! He Wareware aunga ngaki E ngakia mai e koe. O thoughtless boy! Forgetful of the vengeance Which you have been called upon to pay. The tangi for Te Maitaranui who was slain by Tuakiaki at Kaitarahae has a different basis. His death is described as murder. But Te Maitaranui was always cognizant of the grounds upon which Ngatikahungunu were hostile towards him and he had already been warned. Perhaps he thought that so great a warrior as he could never be trapped. Let me digress a little to speak of Te Maitaranui. He was a famous warrior chieftain of Tuhoe a young man, handsome in appearance, his face wonderfully adorned with moko or tattoo. He had travelled too, making the journey from Maungapohatu in the recess of Tuhoe land up as far as Opua in Ngapuhi. He had taken toll of Ngatikahungunu on many a field. He

was invited by a. Kahungunu chief, Tuakiaki, to a feast at Kaitarahae, a pa up the valley of the Ruakituri river which joins hands with the Hangaroa to leap over the falls at Te Reinga, some twenty miles from Wairoa, Hawkes Bay. There the feast was spread, tuna (cels) huahua (preserved pigeons)—all the delicacies which delight the Maori. But Te Maitaranui soon perceived that he had been trapped. As Tuakiaki came forward, weapon in hand, Te Maitaranui protested: Te rangona te reka o to kai, e Tuakiaki—‘Why, Tuakiaki, I have not had a chance to taste the flavour of your food!’ He was killed at once and his body disposed of by his enemy. Here was a terrible loss inflicted upon the Tuhoe people. Yet in the lament, Te ronga o te Tuna, there is no accusation of murder. It boasts of Tuhoe's reputation as “the descendants of Mahanga, the spoilers of food and canoes, and the children of Tuhoe laying waste crops, destroying property and slaughtering men.” Then, for a moment, it strikes a sadder note—“Thou art fallen in thy greatness, before the son of Kahungunu. Alas! for thy handsome tattooed skin the work of Waero.” Then it bursts forth again, recounting into a paean of triumph his prowess and taunting the enemy with their defeats at his hands:— Tarahau nga iwi, e, tarahau ki runga o Mohaka Tarahau nga wheua, e, tarahau ki runga o Tangitu. Spread out are the bones, lying scattered on the fields of Mohaka Spread out are the bones, bleaching on the hills of Tangitu. It ends:—“We were not deceived by Te Tamaki when we took the famous mere, Te Heketua, and Nuhaka was laid waste—the payment for which was the weapon Te Ramaa apakura, and again at Te Mahia, when Kahawai and Kanaehurihia were secured. Overturned like the drinking of water was Te Rito-o-te-rangi when Pukekaroro fell before us, when around the fallen pa arose the shouts of victory, and the dead lay there in heaps near the sands of Taiwananga.” These reminders were surely sufficient payment for the death of Te Maitaranui, and we can imagine the effect upon the Kahungunu listeners when Tuhoe poured out this song. A tangi or lament whose pathos appeals to me very strongly is that which belongs to the Ngatimaru tribe which inhabits the Thames district. It comes from the time when Hongi Hika, greatly daring with the guns he was the first to procure, descended upon the Ngatipaoa and Ngatimaru and others in the Hauraki Gulf. Mauinaina, now Panmure, had fallen before him and Ngatipaoa had been completely overwhelmed, losing their chief Te Hinaki, the survivors fleeing to Waikato. Then Hongi turned his war party against Ngatimaru at the Thames. He surrounded the pa—Te Totara—but failed to take it. Thereupon he made a pretence of peace with them. The chiefs of Ngatimaru presented their meres; Te Aka gave the one called Te Uira; Te Puhi gave Te Tutae o Maui. The war party left in their canoes and the inhabitants of the pa were thus deceived into thinking that they were safe. It is said that one Ngapuhi warrior warned a man of Ngatimaru to be on guard. Hongi's canoes came to shore at Tararu and awaited the dusk. Under cover of the darkness they returned and gained an entrance to the pa, killing nearly all the defenders. Amongst the captives were two lads, Wetea and Tukehu whose fathers had presented their meres to Hongi. Knowing that shortly they would be put to death, the young men requested Hongi to allow them to take farewell of the tribe and the land. When they had done this, they were killed—stabbed, it is said, by Hongi. This is a translation of part of their farewell tangi:— Smooth is the sea, spread out in open space Fair and clear for our canoe Whaowhaotupuni to run. How can I forget that never again can I follow Where thy paddles beat in foam, o Ahurei With mine eye straight to yonder point Whence can be seen the steaming plume of Whakaari Still does it call me—so fine and calm To direct you to the post of the net of Taramainuku How shall I ever see it again! Let me be borne as a marking post To the far off shore where the seaweed lies. Next we have the tangis for the chief who died a natural death. Such a death did not cause the same grief as sudden death by accident, death in battle, or death at the hands of an unsuspected foe. It did not make the heart leap, the old injuries were not dug up, and there were no grounds for invoking curses on the killer. Instead, therefore, the singer directs attention calmly and softly to the many qualities of the deceased. Thus these particular Maori laments contain the most charming expressions in the language. The words are very carefully selected, they are polished till they delight the ear, till they are so appropriate that they apply most fittingly to the subject of the lament. And so in this group appear the finest eulogies of the Maori language, the noblest expressions embracing the broadest terms of lament for the Maori people. In these are shown the signs of death—the twin flashes of lightning on Tauwhara, the twitching of the nostrils, the

movements of the moon through space, the bubbling of Taupo Moana. If the composer is a tohunga, his words turn to the customs of old and he calls upon his gods:— Rongomai Haranui Uenuku wareware E uia mai koe hea te marama He Tangaroa mua, he paunga korekore Ka hutia te tohunga ki runga ki a Rona Ka whakairia nei, e. Should you be asked at what stage is the moon She is in her last quarters: The Tohunga is lifted up to Rona And left there suspended. There are many references to the devastated land or to a people left forlorn. Papahia says: Ka timu tai, ka mokai hoki. e. The people are enslaved and I am left in loneliness. Rangi-whakahaerea says of Okataina:— O kame! Ka waiho noa i te ao To whenua kura ka mahue. All that you have owned is now left lying tenantless Your beloved land is quite deserted. Words of regret are also attached to the personal attributes of the subject of the song. Thus Papahia:— Ko te pakipaki o te ao ka maunu mai nei Ko te taroi o te riri. The safeguard of the world has been taken from us The peacemaker has gone for ever. Tairawhiti thus laments its chiefs:— Ka ngaro hoki, ra e Nga waha ki, nga hautu o te waka I hoea ai te moana Hei whakapuru atu ra, e Mo nga tai kino, mo nga tai marangai Ka puta ki waho ra. You also are lost to us The mouthpieces of the people, the captains of the canoe, Which sailed upon the deep. You, who were our barrier Against the angry tides and fierce gales And enabled your people to venture without. The singer follows this by proclaiming the ancestors and the tribal canoe of the deceased. Then come the eulogies of the dead—a mighty chief, a kakahi (porpoise) a tohora (whale), a tuatara (lizard), a school of whales, a right whale. His skin is likened to that of a new leaf, to the resin of the Kauri; his skin is decorated with the charcoal, he is the murau a te tini—the one murmured at by all; te wenerau a te mano—the object of everyone's censure; the whatiwhati ki—the one who dares to interrupt a chief's speech; a fruit tree growing in a sacred grove, a rata affording shelter from the wind, he is a giant in stature and a great strength, his features gleam with marvellous tattoo. The dead chief is adorned with the famous heir-looms of his ancestors such as Kaukaumatua or Te Ika a Ngahue, he is called the plume of the birds from far Hawaiki, the plume of the canoe, the mooring post of the canoe, the great totara of the forest. In many respects the tangis for the dead chieftain have elements in common. This offers a good opportunity to those who wish to discover the art of each tohunga composer to compare verse by verse the manner in which each arranges his lines. Then it will be seen that, though the composers live in various districts, their methods have a great many similar characteristics.

This is the second of two articles on the ancient Maori mountaineers of the South Island. written by the well-known climber and author John Pascoe. The first article described old Maori mountaineering practices and equipment; the present one takes the reader along the various routes from the eastern plains to the greenstone country. The Wilberforce valley in Canterbury from the summit of Browning's pass. (Photo: John Pascoe.)