The Story of Ponga and Puhihuia Ponga Raua Ko Puhihuia

Te Ao Hou, March 1964, Page 13

This is the third and last instalment of the old story ‘Ponga Raua Ko Puhihuia’, which we are reprinting from volume IV of John White ‘Ancient History of the Maori’ (1889). The English translation is based on White's one. A summary of the story so far is given on the opposite page. The Story of Ponga and Puhihuia Ponga Raua Ko Puhihuia Ao ake i te ata, kua tatua te tangata, kua mau ki nga patu, kua mohio te iwi nei ki te tikanga o te kupu a to ratou ariki, i ki ra, ‘Nana maua ko taku kotiro ka patua, a, ka mate, e taea te aha.’ He mea taua kupu e kore a ia e pai kia riro ke atu te wahine nei i tana i pai ai, a, nana ka puta te taua tiki mai, e kore e tukua, a, ko te iwi nei ko Ngati-Kahukoka, kia maia te pupuri. Kahore kau he tangata o te iwi nei i noho noa, tatua katoa; ka maoa te kai o te ata, ka pau, ka noho, ka titiro ki roto o Manukau, kihai i ata tikaka te ra, ka kitea atu te waka ra, hokotahi i runga e hoe mai ana, i miri haere mai i te tahataha o Paruroa, a, Puponga, a no ka puta ki te au o Manukau, ka kitea atu e tenei. Noho puku tonu te iwi nei i Awhitu, ka tae ki nga kuwaha o te pa titia iho, ko nga tino toa i waho. Hoe mai ra te waka ra, a no ka tata mai, ka tu a Puhihuia ki runga, ka heke ki raro ki tatahi, e hoe mai ana te waka ra, a no ka kitea mai a Puhihuia e ratou, ka pa te waha o te kotiro ra, ka karanga atu, ‘Kati te hoe mai; hei kona tau (manu) mai ai.’ Ka ui atu ano a ia, ‘Ko wai te haumi mou i hoe tutei mai na koe?’ Ka kiia mai e era i te waka ra, ‘Ka Nga-iwi katoa te hoe mai nei.’ Ka mea atu ano a Puhihuia, ‘He hoe aha mai tana hoe mai?’ Ka kiia mai, ‘Ko koe, kia hoki atu.’ Ka kiia atu e Puhi, ‘Haere e hoki, ka ki atu, hoe mai ko tana kite pena mai me au e tu atu nei, ko taku hoki ora atu, e kore. Kaua e whakahoroa te iwi ki Paerau, kati te mate ki a au anake. E kore taku tane a Ponga raua ko tana iwi e noho hangu, ka whai kupu ano ratou. Haere e hoki, ka ki atu ki aku tupuna, ki aku matua, he kawei ano tena no taua In the grey dawn each warrior bound on his war-belt and took his weapon, for each knew the meaning of the words of their lord and leader when he said, ‘If I and my daughter are killed, it cannot be helped’. He meant that he would not allow Puhihuia to be forced to abandon that on which her heart was set, and if a war-party came to take her away he would not allow her to be taken, and Ngati-Kahukoka must be brave to keep her. Not one of the tribe sat inactive; all girded themselves in readiness. When the morning meal had been eaten they all sat in the pa, looking over the waters of the Manukau. The sun was not yet hot when the canoe was seen with twenty paddlers on board, hugging the shores of Paruroa. It came on to Puponga, and when it had entered the Manukau, those on board could be seen. The people remained silent in Awhitu; they went to the gates of the pa and closed them with stakes, and the best of the warriors remained outside the stockade. The canoe paddled on, and when it was close Puhihuia rose and went down to the beach; the canoe still paddled on, and when those in the canoe noticed Puhihuia she called to them and said, ‘Stop, paddling towards me; stay where you are.’ Then she asked, ‘You who have come as the reconnaissance party, who are to support you?’ Those in the canoe answered, ‘All of Nga-iwi are following behind us’. Puhihuia said, ‘And why do they come here?’ Those in the canoe said, ‘So that you will return to your home.’ Puhi said, ‘Go back and tell them that if they come they shall see me only as you do now; I will never return alive. Do not send the people to the world of the spirits, but let mine be the only death. My husband Ponga and his tribe will not sit in silence, but will speak. Go back and say to my grandparents and fathers that they are descended from the same ancestor as is this tribe. I have found for

tupuna kotahi; a, naku ake ano taku i kite, ko taku ringa mau ano tenei, a, te Po atu ana. Ko taku moe i taku tane kahore ano; ki te pai aku matua kia hoe mai a te wa e rakaunui ai te marama, tena te hakari pakuha a taku tane ki aku matua. E ai te mea, e haere mai aku matua ma Tu e arahi mai, ehara tena i a au; e haere pena mai aku matua, e kore ratou e kite ora i a au, tutaki rawa ake au i a ratou ko te Reinga.’ Ka hoki ake ano te kotiro ra ki te pa, e piki ana tenei, e tau tonu mai ana ano te waka ra, a no ka ngaro te kotiro ra ki roto ki te pa, katahi te waka ra ka piua te ihu kia hoki ano ki Puponga, a, ka hoki te waka ra. E korero ana a Puhihuia ki te waka ra, me te whakarongo ake te pa ra, a no ka puta ki nga kupu mau tonu a te kotiro nei ki a Ponga, ka tangi nga wahine o te pa, ka mea, ‘Ana ta te uri ariki; e kore tana e hangahanga ake, ka torere tona ki te Po, ta te ariki tana ki, e kore e ware te ngakau, maia mai ano i nga toa mau patu, a maia mai ano ki nga kohine o te aka tupuna.’ Kahore kau he kupu a te iwi ra ki a Puhihuia, a, noho noa iho a ia i te taha ano o Ponga. Ka hoe te waka ra, tae atu ki nga tangata ki te pa i Maungawhau. Ka kiia nga kupu a Puhuhuia i poroaki atu ai ki ana matua, ka rongo te iwi ra, kihai i whai kupu, a no ka po, ka hui ki te whare manuwhiri, ka noho noa iho te nuinga, ka ka nga rama kapara, ka hui te tamariki ariki ki tetahi pito o te whare, korerorero ana ratou, a, roa noa e noho puku ana te whare ra, ka wharo tetahi o aua tamariki ra, he tu-a-tangata a ia, ara, kua pakeke, he uri ariki a ia. Ka wharo a ia, a, ka tahuri te iwi, ka titiro ki a ia, katahi ra ano a ia ka tu ki runga, ka mea, ‘E aku tupuna, e aku matua, ehara taku kupu i te tino kupu, engari ko ta taku ringa i ngaki ai me waiho tena ki a au; nawal u aku, roa noa aku tau e whakaahuru ana au i ta taku ngakau i whakakoro ai, a no ka nui taku taonga ka puta ki te tau raumati, ka pua te pua o te miharo a te mano, ka tikina mai taku taonga e taku teina tino potiki mutunga, haere ana, ka riro taku taonga; nawai u aku, kaua ianei au e riri? Kua pu te ruha i a koutou, a, ko tenei, waiho kia hao te rangatahi; tukua mai me tiki, me tango mai, ta tatou Kahurangi.’ Ka noho tera ki raro, ka tu ano he tangata, he taitamaiti nei, ka mea a ia, ‘E kite ana au i nga pokai kaka e patua nei i nga pae pukepuke i Waiuku ra, he pokai kaka ano he kaka kura myself that which I like, and I shall hold to it even to the world of darkness. I am not yet the wife of Ponga, but if my parents and people like to visit this pa when the moon is full, my husband will prepare a feast for my parents. If my parents come guided by the god of war I will not blame myself; if that is the manner in which they come, they will not see me alive. I shall meet them in the world of the spirits.’ She went up again to the pa, and as she climbed the canoe still floated there, and it was only when she was lost to view that the prow pointed again towards Puponga, and the canoe returned. As Puhihuia was speaking with those in the canoe, the people in the pa heard all she said; and when she spoke of her constant love for Ponga, the women in the pa wept and exclaimed, ‘Even so! Such is the constancy of the nobly-born: she will not act in a trifling manner; she will even go to the world of the spirits rather than leave him whom she loves. That is the way that the nobly-born behave! Such hearts are never fickle; as were the brave hearts of their ancestors in battle, so are the hearts of the nobly-born daughters in love.’ The people said not a word to Puhihuia, and she went and sat down again beside Ponga. Those in the canoe paddled on until they reached the pa at Maungawhau. They delivered the final message given by Puhihuia to her parents. The tribe heard it in silence, but when night came they all assembled in the house where visitors were entertained, and most of them sat down. When the torches were lighted all the young chiefs of high birth sat in a body at one end of the house and held a conference. For a long while the others in the house sat in silence, until one of the young chiefs cleared his throat. He was a young fellow who had reached adulthood and was of chiefly lineage. He cleared his throat and when the people turned and looked at him, he said, ‘My elders and parents, my word may not be the word of wisdom, but that which my hand has cultivated must be left to me. I have for many years nurtured that to which my heart was inclined; but when my treasure had come into the full growth of summer, and the bloom of admiration from all was seen upon it, then one who was younger than me, and junior in rank, came and took it away. Why should I not be angry? You old people have seen and felt the joys of life and its power: allow us young people to enjoy them also. Now, allow

etahi o te pokai, a, kahore he kaka kura o etahi pokai; ko au tetahi o tatou i haere i nga ra o te patu kaka a Ngati-Kahukoka, a, i tae ano au ki aua pae whenua i te akau whanga (tatari) ai i te pokai kaka. E kite ana au i te pokai rere matamua mai i raro, ka tau ki aua pae, a, he kaka kura tetahi o taua pokai, tena, e rere mai ano he pokai i muri, kahore kau he kaka kura o tera pokai, ka rewa te pokai matati, ka rere whakarunga ki Kawhia, noho tonu te kaka kura ra, a no ka rere te rua o nga pokai, katahi ra ano taua kaka kura ka rere. He tupuna kotahi te tupuna o Nga-iwi, o Ngati-Kahukoka, he kotahi te puhi o Maungawhau, noho ke mai ana i Awhitu, a, he he ranei te kaka kura o tenei pokai kia rere tahi i tera pokai ra? Kua kite au i tena e kiia na e koe; e kore tau kupu e mana i te kotiro ra, e kore ano hoki te kupu a o tatou matua e pono i te kotiro ra. Ki te mea ka ki a Puhihuia i tana ki, e kore e heke. Haere koe ki te tiki, e kore e riro ora mai, a, e kiia te ki mo te tupapaku, ehara au i te toa; he tamaiti mote u au, otiia kei taku e ki atu nei te tika.’ He hoahoa ano o Puhihuia i a ia e noho ana i Maungawhau, he puhi hoki a ia, a, e kore te puhi e noho hoa kore. Ka tu tetahi o aua hoahoa o Puhi ra ki runga, he kotiro uri ariki koa, ka mea, ‘He hoahoa ahau no Puhihuia; e mohio ana au ki ana kupu, ko te tokorua kua korero nei, ehara ena; e kore he kupu ma raua e tae atu ki taku ariki. Ko etahi o tatou kua whai kupu atu ki a Puhihuia, a, kihai rawa nei a ia i pai atu; tini a matou tawai atu ki a ia, mana katoa nga taitamariki tane o te pa nei te mea atu ki a ia, pau katoa ano hoki nga mea o Hauraki te ki, kihai rawa nei a ia i pai atu. He hanga ake te pakeke o te kotiro ra ki tana i kite ai; e kore a ia e hoki mai i a Ponga.’ Ka korero te iwi nei i te po, a, ao noa te ra, kahore he tangata i kore mana kupu. Ko te nuinga ia i mea kia kaua e hoea ki te taua, me tiki, me kai i te kai pakuwha. He nui ano ia te iwi i mea me whakaeke te pa o Ngati-Kahukoka, ka tango mai ai i a Puhihuia. A no ka ao te ra, ka whakatika te whaea o Puhihuia, ka mea, ‘E kore te para a ona tupuna e makere (marere) i a ia. He uri au na Hotunui; ehara au i te mea i kiia e taku iwi, “Na, e ko, te tane mau”. Te tini ano ia nga tane i whakaaturia ki a au e aku matua me aku tupuna, kihai rawa nei au i pai atu. Ko taku us to go and take by force she whom we most value.’ He sat down, and another young chief rose and said, ‘I have noticed the flocks of kaka which are caught on the hills near Waiuku. In some flocks there is a red kaka, in others there is none. I am one of our tribe who accompanied the members of the Ngati-Kahukoha tribe on these kaka-killing expeditions, and I was one of those who went and sat on the hills to wait for the arrival of the flocks of kaka. I have seen the arrival of the first flock from the north, and have seen them alight on the hills there; and one of that flock was a red kaka. Then another flock, which had no red kaka, flew in afterwards; but when the flock that first arrived took flight and flew away south towards Kawhia, the red kaka that had come with it stayed behind, and when the second flock took its departure, the red bird of the first flock accompanied it. ‘Nga-iwi and Ngati-Kahukoka take their origin from the one ancestor; and at Mount Eden there was but one woman noble of birth and beauty; but now she lives at Awhitu. Then is it wrong for the red kaka of this flock to fly with that flock? I have seen that of which you [the last speaker] spoke; she will not agree to what you say, nor will she agree to do as our elders say. If Puhihuia says something, she will never change her mind. If you go to fetch her, she will not be brought away alive, and speeches for the dead will be made. I am not a warrior, I am but a child fed from the breast, but I say that what I have said is the right thing to do.’ Puhihuia had women attendants while she lived at Mount Eden. She was an unbetrothed woman of high rank and, being a virgin, would never be without attendants. One of those attendants, who was also of noble birth, rose and said, ‘I am one who was attendant on Puhihuia, and I know her mind. I dispute what the last two speakers have said. Those two did not dare to speak my mistress. Some of our young chiefs did dare to speak to her, but she would not listen to them—no, not at all. All of us, her attendants, have joked with her, saying that she could have any young chief she chose of our tribe. The young chiefs of Hauraki [Thames] have proposed to her, but she would not listen to what they said. She is a most strong-willed young woman, and if she decides to do something, nothing will change her mind. She will not come back to us and leave Ponga.’

ariki e moe nei maua, naku ano taku i kite, otiia i moe noa iho maua, kihai i kiia e au ki te hakari pakuha, he whakahihi hoki naku ki aku tungane. He tane ano a ratou i mea ai moku, kihai au i pai atu, a, moe nei au i taku ariki; i noho koa au i Takapuna, a, ko taku tane no te pa i Rarotonga, tena e hoe te kaihi mango ki Puponga, i nga wa o te riri i ririri ai Nga-iwi ki Ngati-Kahukoka. Ka hoe mai matou ki te pa nei, whiti mai matou i Takapuna, a, ka moe i konei. Ao ake, ka haere matou ki Onehunga, ka tutaki matou i tera o Rarotonga e hoe ana ano hoki ki te hi mango. He tamaiti koa taku ariki kua noho noa atu i roto i Waikato, a, katahi ra ano ka hoki mai ki ana matua, i noho hoki ki aua tupuna ona, a, kua pakeke, ara, kua taia ki te moko, kua tu nga tiwhana, te pawaha, me nga putaringa, a, kite rawa ake nei au i a ia, mate noa atu au. Ka hoe nei matou, a, ka huakina matou e te taua a tera i Awhitu, a, ka papatu. Ko te toa koa a taku i pai atu ai, a, ka kite atu au i tana maia, heoi ano katahi ra ano au ka tino he rawa atu taku wairua ki a ia. Ka kakata atu au ki a ia, a, ka kakata mai a ia ki a au, a no ka korerorero maua, a, pai noa maua ki a maua, a, ka noho au i Maungawhau nei, a, ka noho hoki a ia i taua pa nei ano.

The meeting continued all night, and at dawn there was not one person who had not spoken on the matter. The majority said that they should not paddle off on a hostile expedition, and urged that the tribe should go and take part in the marriage feast to which they were invited. But there were also many who said that they should attack the pa of Ngati-Kahukoka and take Puhihuia away by force. When day had dawned, the mother of Puhihuia rose and said, ‘Puhihuia will think and act as did her ancestors. I am a descendant of Hotunui. I was not one to whom my tribe said “O girl! Such and such a one must be your husband.” There were many young chiefs to whom my ancestors and parents directed my attention, but I did not like any of them. My lord whom I married was the one of my own seeking and my own choice, but we married without formality. I did not give a feast when we took each other; I defied my brothers. They had a husband of their choice in mind for me, but I did not agree. I am now living with the husband of my own choice. I lived before at Takapuna [Mount Victoria], while the one I loved belonged to the pa at Rarotonga [Mount Smart]. ‘Now, a shark-fishing party was paddling to Puponga in the days when Nga-iwi and Ngati-Kahukoka were at war. We crossed over from Takapuna to this pa, and slept here. In the morning we went to Onehunga and met the people of Rarotonga, who were also paddling out at fish for sharks. At that time my beloved was a mere lad, and had been away living in Waikato, and had just returned to his parents. He had been living with his grandparents, and having reached adulthood he had just been tattooed. The curved lines over the eyebrows had been done, also those from the nostrils round the corners of the mouth to each side of the chin and those under the ears. As we paddled we were attacked by a war-party from Awhitu, and fought a battle. How brave was the one I loved! It was then that I saw how brave he was, and fell desperately in love with him. I smiled at him and he smiled back at me, and when we spoke, we knew that we loved each other. I stayed here at Maungawhau, and he also stayed at this pa. On the night of the day on which we arrived here, as soon as night fell, I went out on to the marae of this pa, and called out to the people and said, “I will not hide the secret. I will have my husband. I found him at Puponga and here in this pa I will take him as my husband. He is from Rarotonga, and I am from Takapuna. So now you have all been informed.” And I

I te po ano o maua i piki ake ai ki te pa nei, po kau ano ka puta au ki waho ki te marae nei, ka karanga atu au ki te iwi o te pa nei, ka mea, “E kore e huna atu e au, maku taku tane; naku taku i kite i Puponga, a, ko konei au moe ai i taku tane. No Rarotonga a ia, no Takapuna au; ma koutou e mohio mai.” Heoi ano, ka moe maua, he mea hoki kua kiia e au ki enei o aku matua, kua pono ki to mua tikanga. ‘Rongo kau ano koa era i Takapuna, me era i Rarotonga i a maua kua moe, a, kahore nei i taka he hakari pakuha ma te iwi, ka tu te weri (riri) o aua iwi, ara, nga hapu o Nga-iwi. A, i a maua e noho ana i te pa nei, ka hoe mai aku whanaunga i Takapuna, ka huakina te taua ki konei; huaki rawa ake, hore kau he tangata o te pa nei, kua poto ki te marara noa atu, ki te kohi pipi i Onehunga, ki te hi ika i Manukau, ki te wero manu i Titirangi, ki te tiki kuku i te akau, huaki kau ana, ko te pa anake He kuia nei, he koroheke nei nga mea i rokohanga mai e noho ana i konei. Ka murua e ratou nga rua kumara, ka kainga nga pataka roi, ka maua nga hinaki tuna, me nga kupenga hao kanae, a, hoki ana, pahure kau ano era. I taua ra ano, ka tae ake te taua o Rarotonga, tae kau ake, e haere ana te taua o Takapuna i te ara e heke atu ai i te pa nei ki Waipapa, a, ko taua taua o Rarotonga nei i wawau kau noa iho, hore he mea mana e rarahu ai, ka noho, ka korero ki nga kuia ra, me nga koroheke, a, hoki kau ana. ‘Ka noho nei maua ko taku ariki, a, ka mea nei a Puhihuia a, he aha ianei te kotiro ra te rite ai ano ki a au? E kore te para o ana tupuna e makere (ngahoro) i a ia. Ka pono i a ia tana kupu e ki mai nei ki te mea ka tohe tatou ki a ia kia hoki mai, a, ka tikina ka tauatia, ka toia mai ano ki konei, e kite ora atu tatou i te ra kotahi, a, kite rawa ake ano i te Reinga; e kore tana e heke i ta tatou.’ Ka tu he kuia nei ki runga, ko te matua o te taitamaiti i korero ra i te timatanga o te hui i hui nei ki te whare manuwhiri, ka mea, ‘Ae, ano he tika te kupu a te whaea o Puhihuia e ki nei, otira he iwi wawau nga tamariki tane o te pa nei. Tautini noa te kotiro ra e noho ana i a tatou, a, hore kau nei he tamaiti kotahi i tata atu ki a ia. Katahi ano te uri o te mokai ma! E ki ana koia koutou ma te mata taramore koutou ka moea ai e te wahine? He aha a Ponga i kiia ai he tino tangata? Na te moko took my husband. As I had proclaimed aloud to these my elders what I intended to do, I had done all that ancient custom demanded of me. ‘When the people of Takapuna and Rarotonga heard that we were married and that I had not given the customary pa-kuka feast for the tribe, those people (Nga-iwi) were furious with me; and while we were living in the pa here, my relatives from Takapuna came with a war-party and attacked this pa; but when they attacked it they found it deserted. All the people had gone away to gather cockles at Onehunga, to fish in the Manukau, to spear birds at Titirangi, and to collect mussels on the sea-coast. When they attacked, the pa was deserted. Some old women and old men were all they found living here. The war-party plundered the kumara storehouses and ate the dried fern-root from the stages on which it was kept; they took the eel-baskets, and the nets for catching mullet. They went back, and just as they were leaving, on this same day, a war-party from Rarotonga appeared. As they came up, the Takapuna party was disappearing down the track to Waipapa. The Rarotonga party talked and uttered threats, but there was nothing for them to take, so they sat down and talked to the old men and women, then went away empty-handed. ‘I and my lord lived together; and now that Puhihuia has acted for herself, I cannot wonder that she has followed my example. The spirit of her ancestors will never fail her. She will do as she has said. We are told that she has spoken thus: if we go and attempt to take her by force and drag her back here, we shall see her but one day in this life, and we shall not see her after till we meet her in the world of the spirits. She will not give in to what we demand.’ An old woman, the mother of the young chief who spoke first at the opening of the meeting, now rose and said, ‘Yes, the words of Puhihuia's mother are true; but the young chiefs of this pa are stupid. Puhihuia has been with us for a long time and not one young man approached her. Yes, you descendants of slaves! Do you think that you who have bare, untattooed faces will ever gain a wife? Why is that Ponga is said to be a very noble-looking man? He is tattooed, and he looks grand. Yes, it is quite right that you should lose your noble young woman.’ Others spoke; but it was the young people who had most to say. The elders all agreed that since Puhihuia had found one to her own

o Ponga i pai ai; ka pai ano kia riro ta koutou puhi.’ Ka korero te hui nei, otira ko te taitamariki anake i tino korero, ko te kaumatua ia, i mea ratou, na Puhihuia tana i kite, kati atu, mana ano tana e kite. Ao ake i te ata, ka kai te iwi nei, a, ka mutu, a, i te wa ano kiano te tangata i haere noa ki tana mahi, a, e noho ana ano i te marae, i te wa i kai ai ratou, ka tu tetahi tohunga koroheke ki runga, ka karanga atu ki te iwi, ka mea, ‘Hei kata te porangi o te iwi nei! E kiia mai nei tatou e Puhihuia kia haere atu ki tana hakari, a, he noho aha ta tatou? He wainamu koia tatou ki te kai nei ki te mango hei kinaki kumara a te raumati? He kino koia ki a koe kia puta te puhonga o te mango i te kohamo o te tangata? E mea ana au me karere e taua, ka ki atu ki a Puhihuia ma, hei te wa e rakaunui ai te marama, ka hoe atu ai tatou ki Awhitu ki te whakamana i tana kupu.’ Aetia ana te kupu a taua tohunga nei e nga tino tangata o te iwi nei, a, ka mea atu te whaea o Puhihuia, ‘Tena rawa maua ko taku taua te hoe atu na ki Awhitu.’ Mutu kau ano aua korero nei, ka haere taua wahine ra, ara, te whaea o Puhihuia, ki tana whare, ka mau ki ona kakahu papai, ki nga taha hinu, ki nga piki toroa, ki nga remu huia, ki te kahu kiwi, ki nga taonga nui o mua, ka takaia, ka whaona (kohia) ki te putea, ka karanga a ia ki tetahi o ana ropa wahine, kia tikina mai kia pikaua taua putea. Ka puta a ia ki te marae, ka haere ki te kuwaha o te pa, ka tu, ka karanga, ‘E hine ma, e kui ma, ko te ra tenei ki a tatou; ki Awhitu, ki Awhitu! Ka hei tau, ka raru koe, e te tane, i taku taua wahine.’ Puta kau ano ana kupu, ka hui te wahine ki a ia, haere ake hokotoru te wahine, te kuia, te wahine matua, te taitamahine, hore kau he tane kotahi, ka puta taua tini ra ki waho o te pa, ka haere, a, Onehunga. Ka tae ki te waka, toia ake, ka manu, ka hoe, hoe nei, hoe nei, a, kahore kau he kupu a ratou, hoe puku kau noa iho, hoe hangu tonu nei a waho ake o Puponga ka taka ki te au o Manukau. He ra aio koa te ra nei. Ka tu te matua o Puhihuia ki runga i te waka, ko ia hoki i te kei e urungi ana i te waka, ka pa te waha, ka mea, ‘E te pa raka, e te pa raka, e koe e noho mai na i Awhitu, hurua to maro, whawhea to maro, e mau ki te patu; tenei au ko te whakaariki.’ I te ata o te ra i hoe atu ai te waka nei, kua oho noa ake te pa raka, kua tahu po te kai, ka maoa, e kai ana, ka mutu, kua noho tupato te iwi i te pa. Ko Ponga koa raua ko Puhihuia i noho kau noa iho, hore he kupu, liking, she should have him. In the morning the people ate a meal and afterwards, before any of them had gone about their daily work, while they were still sitting on the marae eating, an old priest stood up and called out to the people, saying, ‘How foolish these people are! We are invited by Puhihuia to go to her feast; then why are we waiting? Don't we all like to eat shark with savoury kumara in the summer? Have you no longing to smell the savoury scent of shark's flesh on your breath? I say, let us send a message telling Puhihuia and the others that when the moon is full we will paddle to Awhitu according to her invitation.’ All the important people agreed to the tohunga's proposal and the mother of Puhihuia said, ‘I and my war-party will paddle off to Awhitu’. When the discussion was over, Puhihuia's mother went to her house and took her most valuable garments, gourds of oil, down of the albatross, tail-feathers of the huia and garments made of kiwi feathers, and all that was precious in those days, and wrapped them up and put them into a basket, and calling to one of her attendant women, told her to carry the basket on her back. Then she went on to the marae and walked to the gate of the pa, and standing there called, ‘Girls and women! this is our day. To Awhitu, to Awhitu! And you, you men! You will not be able to act as my war-party of women will do!’ When she said that the women of the pa crowded around her, the aged and the mothers and the girls — sixty of them in all, with not a single man among them—all of them passed through the gate of the pa and went towards Onehunga. When they reached the canoe they hauled it down and launched it. On and on they paddled and not a word was spoken; they paddled in complete silence, without a word, until they reached the mid-channel between Puponga and the Manukau. It was a calm day. The mother of Puhihuia stood up in the stern of the canoe, where she had been sitting and steering the canoe, and in a loud clear voice she called to the people of Awhitu pa, and said, ‘O you in the pa! You who are in the pa at Awhitu! Put on your war-belts, bind them around you, take your weapons of war in your hands! I, the enemy, am here!’ At dawn of the day on which this canoe paddled away, the occupants of the Awhitu pa had risen before the grey dawn and had cooked food and eaten it, and had prepared for war, and were now sitting on guard, while Puhihuia and Ponga sat in calm silence. The

hore he aha. A no ka kitea atu te waka ra e hoe mai ana, he nui te ope i te waka ra, hokotoru hoki, wahia ake e ono tekau wahine ra, tohu noa te pa ra he taua tane, i te mea hoki, he mea mau-a-tane te mau o te hoe, ko te kakahu he mea whitiki ki te hope, ko te mahunga he mea tia ki te hou. Ka kitea atu te waka ra, ka whakatika a Puhihuia, ka mea atu ki a Ponga, ‘Taua ki ko rara.’ Ka haere raua, a, ka heke ki te one o Awhitu, ka haere, a, ka tae ki te pari titi tonu i te pito o te one whaka te wahapu o Manukau, ko te tatutanga o taua pari ra e akina ake ana e te ngaru o te moana nui o waho. Haere tonu te tokorua raka, a, ka piki puku atu hoki a Ponga i muri i a ia, i a Puhihuia; noho ana raua. Hoe tonu mai te waka ra, a no ka tata ki uta ki Awhitu, ka karanga atu ano te wahine ra, te whaea o Puhihuia, ka mea, ‘Huna hoki, ka aha, a, whakina hoki ka aha? Ka hei tau; penei rawa ake te ra nei ka to, noho ana ano koe i Maungawhau.’ A no ka kite iho a Puhihuia i te waka ra he wahine kau, ka mea atu a ia ki a Ponga, ‘He wahine kau nga kaihoe o te waka ra, otiia he tane pea ia kei roto kei te riu e takoto huna ana. Mei hoe taua tane mai, e kore au e mau, ko te pari ano tenei e torere ai au ki te mate; e kore au e hoki ora ki aku mutua.’ Ka whakatika a ia ki runga, ka karanga atu ki te waka ra, ‘Hoe mai nei, tenei maua ko taku ariki.’ Te patu a te kotiro ra e mau ra i tana ringa, he taiaha, he patu tapu na nga matua o Ponga ma, he patu oha na nga kahika, he patu kura. Manu mai ana te waka ra, me te titiro puku atu te pa raka, hore te mea kotahi o te pa nei i puta ki waho; anake, anake, te tane, te tamariki, te wahine, noho puku mai ana i roto i te pa. Roa kau iho ano te waka ra e tau ana i muri iho o te kupu a Puhihuia; ka pa ano te karanga a te wahine ra, te whaea o Puhihuia, ki te pa ra, ka mea, ‘Puta mai ki waho nei. He aha koe i tahae ai i taku kotiro? He aha tau i a au, i maia ai koe ki taku kahurangi kia hei ana i to uma? Puta mai taua ki waho nei kekeri (whawhai) ai.’ Noho puku tonu mai te pa ra; he tane koa nana aua kupu ki te pa ra, kua pai atu te pa ra. Tena, he wahine e kore e pai kia hoa ririri te tane o Ngati-Kahukoka ki te wahine ariki o Nga-iwi; koia raka te take i noho puku ai te pa ra. Katahi ka karanga atu a Puhihuia ki tana whaea, ‘I kiia atu ra, hei Paerau he kitenga mo taua, a, ka tohe mai na ano koe. Pokanoa ai to kupu ki a Ngati-Kahukoka, i a au e tu atu nei, te tangata nana te hara. Kati mai koe canoe was seen paddling towards them, bearing what seemed to be a large party of men, for they used their paddles as men do, and the garments they wore were held by a belt around the waist; also, they wore plumes in their hair. When the canoe was seen Puhihuia rose and said to Ponga, ‘Let us go down there.’ They went down to the Awhitu beach, then continued on until they reached a steep cliff washed by the surge of the sea, at the end of the beach nearest the mouth of the Manukau. The two of them continued on, and Ponga climbed up in silence behind Puhihuia; then they both sat down. The canoe came on, and when it was near the shore at Awhitu, the mother of Puhihuia stood up once more and called to those in the pa, and said, ‘If you hide yourselves, what can you gain? If you show yourselves, what will you lose? By the time that this day's sun has set, you will be living again at Maungawhau.’ When Puhihuia had discovered that the crew of the canoe were all women she said to Ponga, ‘The paddlers in the canoe are all women, but men may be lying hidden in the bilge. If they had been men, they would not have taken me; this is the cliff over which I would have thrown myself to death. I will not go back to my parents.’ She rose up and called to those in the canoe, ‘Paddle your canoe towards me. I and my loved one are here.’ She held a taiaha in her hand, a sacred heirloom of the ancestors of Ponga, ornamented with red feathers, which had been handed down from past generations. The canoe was now as though lying at anchor and the people of the pa were looking at it in silence. Not one of the people in the pa had come outside; all of them—men, children, women—were sitting in silence inside the pa. For a long time after Puhihuia had spoken the canoe floated there in silence, then her mother called from the canoe, and said to the occupants of the pa, ‘Come outside. Why did you rob me of my daughter? What property have I of yours, that you should take my precious greenstone to wear on your breast? Come outside, that we may fight our battle.’ Those in the pa kept perfect silence; but if the words spoken by the mother of Puhihuia had been said to them by a man they would eagerly have accepted the challenge. The Ngati-Kahukoka would not dare to battle with a woman of supreme rank of the Nga-iwi of the people of Maungawhau; it was for this reason that those in the pa were silent. Then Puhihuia called out to her mother, ‘I

i to waka, tukua mai au hoa wahine ki uta nei, kia ririri matou, a, naku ka mate, utaina atu ki to waka; nau ka mate ou hoa i a au, haere e hoki tangi atu ki to pa. E kore au e hoki ora atu i a koe.’ Ka marere nga kakahu o etahi o te tini wahine i te waka ra, tatua rawa, ka peke ki te wai, e kau ana, a, ka u ki uta. He taitamahine anake enei i kau atu nei ki uta, ko nga wahine takakau anake, hore he mea moe tane. Haere ake ano a ia, a ia, me tana patu ano i te ringa, te taiaha, te wahaika, te mere pounamu, te mere paraoa, te tao poto, te meremere, te aha, te aha. A no ka tae ki uta me te titiro puku iho te pa ra, he mea titiro mai e ratou i waenga o nga wawa o tana pa. Ka u nga wahine ra ki uta, ka haere, a, ka tata ki te akinga tai o te tai u, ka noho-a-kapa, ka heke iho a Puhihuia raua ko Ponga, a, ka tatu iho ki raro ki te one. Ka noho a Ponga, ka mea atu te kotiro ra, ‘Hoake taua kia kite koe i taku matenga.’ Haere atu ana a Puhihuia, a no ka tata atu ki te tira kapa wahine e noho mai ra, ka mahue ona ki te one; mau ake ko te maro karetu anake ki tana hope whitiki ai. Haere atu ra a ia, a no ka tata atu, ka tu a ia me tana taiaha, ka karanga tu a ia, ‘Tenei au, ko to tangata i haere mai ai koe.’ Ka tu mai tetahi o aua wahine ra, ko te patu paraoa i te ringa, ka hapainga mai tana patu ki a Puhihuia, a no ka tata, ka whiua te patu ra ki te upoko o te kotiro nei. Karohia ake, tera te haere ra, tahi ano te whiunga o te arero o te taiaha ra ki te poho o tera, koropeke ana, noho ana tera ki raro. Ka karanga atu ano a Puhi, ‘Tu mai hoki!’ Ka tu atu ano he wahine, ko te tao poto ki tana ringa, tata noa ano ki a Puhihuia, ka werohia ki te kotiro ra, tera te haere ra, tahi atu ano te whiu a Puhihuia i tana taiaha ki te pokowhiwhi o tera, maro ana te ringa o tera, ka noho tera ki raro. Ka tu mai ano he wahine me te wahaika, ka tata noa ano, ka whiua ki a Puhi, ka karohia, haere rawa ake te patu a Puhihuia, ka pa te patu o

have told you before that you and I shall not meet in life, but in Paerau [the world of the spirits]. Do you persist? Why do you dare to blame Ngati-Kahukoka when I, the sole cause of your anger, am here? Keep in your canoe, but let the women with you come on shore that I may do battle with them, and if they kill me, then put my body aboard your canoe; but if I conquer your women, then you can go home weeping. I will not allow you to take me alive.’ Some of the women in the canoe took off their upper garments and tied their loin-cloths tightly around them, jumped into the water, and swam to the shore. They were all young women who swam to the shore, all single, none having yet married. Each went with her weapon in her hand, weapons such as taiaha, wahaika, greenstone mere, whaleboat mere, short spears, meremere, and others. They reached the shore, watched in silence by those in the pa who were looking at them from between the palisades. When the women had landed they went up to the foot of the cliff and sat in a line; and Puhihuia and Ponga came down to the beach. Ponga sat down, but Puhihuia said, ‘Let us both go on, so that you can see me die.’ Puhihuia went on, and when she was close to the line of women who were sitting there, she took off her outer garments and left them on the sand. She kept on only her loin-cloth made of the karetu grass. Then she went on, and when she was quite near them she stood there with her taiaha in her hand and called out, ‘Here I am, the person for whom you have come’. A young woman holding in her hand a whalebone patu rose and brandished her patu at Puhihuia, and when she came close, she made a blow with her weapon at Puhihuia's head. Puhihuia parried the blow, and moving forward, with the tongue-end of her taiaha she dealt a blow at her opponent in the pit of her stomach, making her double up and sit down. Puhihuia called out again, ‘Another of you come forward to meet me.’ Another young woman stood up with a short spear in her hand, and when she was quite close to Puhihuia she made a thrust at her. Puhihuia parried the thrust, and dealt a heavy blow to the girl's shoulder. This took the power from her arm, and she sat down. Another young woman with a wahaika stood up, and advancing close to Puhihuia, she aimed a blow at her. Puhihuia parried the blow, but while Puhihuia's weapon was still raised, the other's weapon hit the lower fringe of her loin-cloth, and the young women who were

tera ki te remu o tana maro, ka pa te umere o te tira wahine e noho kapa mai ra. Ka whiua ano te wahaika a te wahine ra ki a Puhihuia. Katahi ra ano ka pehia atu e Puhihuia, ko te karo, ko te arero o tana taiaha ki te poho (kopu) o te wahine ra, takoto ana tera i te one. Katahi ra ano ka tu mai tetahi wahine ano me te mere pounamu i te ringa. Ko te mere anake, hore kau he tau, he pounamu hou, kiano i whiua ki te tangata. Ka tu mai taua wahine me tana patu, ka pukana haere mai ki a Puhihuia, ka tata noa ano, ka whiua te patu ra ki te mahunga o te kotiro ra, tahi ano ka mauitia te patu a Puhihuia, pa ke ki te ringa o tera, rere ana te pounamu ra i te ringa, tau rawa atu i te one, noho ana tera. Nei koa, e titiro mai ana ano te pa ra, me nga tangata i te waka ra, me Ponga hoki e noho puku mai ra, me te tuohu ki raro, uhi ai tana upoko ki tona. A no ka rere te patu pounamu a tera, katahi ano te whaea o te kotiro nei ka tu ano ki runga, ka karanga mai ki a Puhihuia, ‘E ko, kati. Kua taea te huhi o ena; taua ka hoki ki to papa.’ Ka karanga atu a Puhi, ‘E hoki Kupe?’ Ka karanga atu ano te wahine, whaea o Puhihuia, ka mea, ‘E te pa ra, e koe e noho puku mai na, me ra whea atu he ara moku ki te marae o to pa?’ Ka puta atu te koroheke ariki i arahi ra i a Puhihuia i te ra tuatahi ona i tae atu ra ki taua pa ki waho o te pa, ka karanga atu, ‘Nau mai! Maku e wahi he ara ake mou i nga wawa o taku pa. Haere mai koe i a Tu, mau he ara mau e kimi (rapu). Haere mai koe i a Tahu, tenei to ara maku e waere atu i te pekerangi o taku pa.’ Ka mea ake te wahine ra, ‘Kite iho ano koe i te maia o to mokopuna? He nanakia nga tupuna ki te mau patu, a, i kore noa i a ia, e kite iho na koe. No Tahu te ara, te whati te tara o te kupu o ana kahika, a, moroki noa nei ki a ia; e kore a ia e taea. Ka tu ano tana, e kore e whati. Kati, e noho. Ka hoki au, e tae ki nga po rakaunui o te marama tena au, maua ko to hakari pakuha.’ Me te tu atu ano a Puhi me te whakarongo ki nga kupu o tana whaea; mutu kau ano, ka haere atu a ia ki nga wahine i patua nei e ia, tukua atu ana tana ihu ki era, ka mutu, ka haere atu a ia, ka tuku i te ihu ki te kapa wahine kihai ra i whakatika mai ki te patu i a ia; mutu kau ano, ka maranga tana ringa, ka powhiri i a Ponga, tae atu a Ponga ki tana taha, ka mea atu a ia ki a Ponga, ‘Hoake sitting in a line gave a loud shout of joy. Again the young woman made a blow at Puhihuia, who parried it, and with the tongue-end of her taiaha she hit her opponent a hard blow in the pit of the stomach, laying her out on the sand. Once more another young woman stood before Puhihuia with a greenstone mere in her hand; but the mere did not have the string by which it could be held tight and kept in the grasp of the person using it, and also it was a newly-made weapon which had not been used against anyone. This young woman stood up with her patu and advanced towards Puhihuia, grimacing and glaring with her eyes, until she was quite close, then aimed a blow with it at Puhihuia's head; but Puhihuia, making a left-handed parry with her taiaha, dealt a severe blow to the other's hand, and the greenstone weapon flew up into the air and landed on the sand. She who had held the weapon sat down. All this time the people in the pa and those in the canoe were watching, and Ponga also, sitting in silence with his head bowed and covered with his cloak. When Puhihuia hurled the greenstone mere from the hand of her opponent, her mother stood up in the canoe and called to her daughter and said, ‘Daughter, stop now. You have defeated them all. Come back with me to your father.’ Puhihuia said, ‘Will Kupe return?’ [When once someone has committed himself to a certain course of action, he will never go back until he has gained what he sought.] The mother called out again and said, ‘O you in the pa, sitting there in silence, by which path shall I come on to the marae of your pa?’ The old chief who led Puhihuia into his pa on the first day she arrived there, came out and called, ‘Welcome. I will make a path for you. I will break open a road through the palisades of my pa for you. If you come in the name of Tu, the god of war, you must make a road for yourself; but if you come in the name of Tahu, the god of peace and plenty, here is your path which I will cut for you in the outermost palisade of my pa.’ Again the mother spoke, and asked, ‘Have you seen the bravery of your grand-daughter? Her ancestors were reckless in war; and has she not inherited that power, the power shown in her actions that you have just seen? And even if the god of peace and plenty is her guide, nothing of what she wishes is left undone. She cannot be overcome. If she says that she will

taua ki te pa. Ko koe hei muri, hei whakataki i a au.’ Haere ana raua, ka hoe mai te waka ra ki uta, ka eke nga wahine nei, a, ka hoe ano te waka ra, ka hoki ki roto a Manukau. Ka noho nei te iwi nei i Awhitu, a ka hao i te ika, ka keri i te roi, ka keri i te panahi, ka pae, ka tirekitia, ka pae whakapu ake; ka tae ka hi i te mango, ka tare i te whata, haunga ano ia te mango maroke; ka haere te tahere kuku, ka kohi te pipi, ka tahu, ka kohia, ka tuia ki te tui, ka iri, waiho ake kia maroke; ka ta i te korau, ka pae, ka tahuna, ka maoa, waiho ake; ka haere te kaiwhawhaki i te para, ka tahuna ki te hangi, waiho ake; ka haere te kaimahi paua, ka pae, ka tahuna, ka maoa, ka tuia, whakatare (whakairia) ake. A no ka tae ki te rakaunuitanga o te marama, ka hoe atu te karere ki Maungawhau, ka ki atu, ‘Hei te ra a tetahi ra ka pae te hakari.’ Ao kau ake ano te ra i kiia ai, ka hoe mai te ope ra a Nga-iwi, poto katoa mai nga tangata o te pa, ko te tino o te kuia me te koroheke anake i noho atu i te pa. Ka hoe nei, a, ka tata ki Awhitu, ka puta te kaipowhiri o te pa ra, ka karanga i te ope nei. Ka heke iho te tangata o te pa, te tane me te wahine, kakahu ai ki to te taua tu-a-Tu. Ka tae iho ki te one, ka maunu atu nga kaitaki mo Nga-iwi, u kau ano nga waka, ka werohia e nga kaitaki, ka paia te amo e te ope a Ngaiwi, ka whaia era. Tu rawa ake nga kaitaki i roto ano i o ratou kapa matua, ka tu te hari o Ngati-Kahukoka, me te noho tuturi te ope ra. Mutu kau ano te tu waewae o tenei, ka turia te hari e tera; mutu kau ano, ka apiti aua iwi nei, ka turia ano te hari, ka mutu, ka haere te ope o Ngati-Kahukoka i mua o enei, me te powhiri haere, me te arahi i tenei, a, eke noa ki te pa, ka noho i te marae. Noho iho ano, kei runga te tangata whenua, e karanga ana i tenei, kei runga hoki te tangata o te ope nei e korero ana i te pai, ka puta te kaiamo i te hakari, ka pae te kapa kai, ka tu tona tangata ki runga, ka karangatia aua kai ma nga hapu o Nga-iwi i ona rohe katoa. Ka tu te tangata o te ope ra, ara, te matua tonu o Puhihuia, ka karangatia tetahi o aua tahua kai ma nga hapu katoa o Ngati-Kahukoka, Mutu kau ano, ka tuhaina aua kai nei, ka tu, ka kai. Mutu kau ano te kai, kei runga ko te ariki do a thing, she will accomplish her purpose. Farewell, I will return to my people, and when the moon is full I and my people will be at your pa-kuwha [marriage] feast.’ All this time Puhihuia was standing listening to what her mother said; but as soon as her mother had finished, she went and pressed noses with the young women whom she had defeated, and then with the others who had not risen to fight her; then she waved her hand to Ponga, and when he reached her side, she said, ‘Let us go to the pa; you follow as my rearguard.’ They went on and the canoe landed, the young women embarked, and the canoe paddled away again into the Manukau. The Awhitu people now settled down and began to catch fish and to dig fern and convolvulus roots, drying them and putting them into store-houses and on stages. Then they fished for shark, and hung them to dry on long poles, one above the other to dry, and speared pigeons and preserved them in their own fat; collected cockles and cooked them, then strung them together and left them to dry; cut and cooked the fronds of the korau; collected the bulb of the stem of the leaf of the paraa, which was cooked for a long time and stored away; and collected the paua, which were cooked, then strung together and hung up to dry. When the moon was full, a messenger paddled to Maungawhau and said, ‘On the day after tomorrow the feast will be laid on the marae.’ Early in the morning of the appointed day, the party of Nga-iwi left in their canoes—all the people in the pa came, only the most decrepit old men and women remaining behind in the pa. They paddled on, and when they were near Awhitu, all the people waved their garments to welcome the visitors. The Awhitu people went down to the beach below, clothed as those who are going into battle [with only a loin-cloth around their waists]. When they had descended to the beach, those who were to challenge Nga-iwi moved forward. As soon as the canoes had landed, the challengers threw the fern-stalks, then ran back towards the pa, followed at full speed by the best runners among the Maungawhau people. As soon as those they were pursuing (who had not been overtaken) were in the midst of their own people, these, the Awhitu tribes, danced their war-dance. Meanwhile the guests had all followed on, and were now drawn up in war array, kneeling on one knee, looking at their hosts. As soon as the Awhitu people had danced their war-dance, the visitors

o Awhitu, ka mau ki te taonga o mua, ara, ka haere ki te ropu taonga e pae ana i te marae — te kahahu noa, te hou huia, te toroa, te kaitaka, te pounamu, te aha, te aha, ka kiia e ia, ka mea, ‘Te taonga, te taonga nei, ma o tatou tupuna kua heke atu ra ki te Po. Te taonga nei, te taonga nei, ma nga tohunga, ma nga rangatira, ma nga matua o taku kotiro, o Puhihuia.’ Ka mutu, ka noho a ia ki raro. E korero ana tenei, e hui ana te tangata o te ope ra, ara, o Maungawhau, e whiu ana i te taonga nei, i te hapuku, i te tawatawa, i te tuna, i te kiwi, i te kuri maori, i te kiore, i te huahua kuku, me te huahua kaka, me te huahua kuaka, ka pae, ka whiu ano hoki i te kakahu, i te patu, i te kai nei a te hinau, a te pua raupo, ka takoto. Ka tu te matua ra ano o te kotiro ra, ka mau ki tana rakau tokotoko, ka pa tana patu ki aua kai ra, me aua taonga, ka puta te kupu, ka mea. ‘E, whakarongo mai e te pa, whakarongo mai e te ao! Tenei ta koutou taonga. E taku potiki, nei te taonga mau; i a koe ka haere ke nei i a au, tenei te mihi nei, te tangi nei. Haere atu ra, e taku taonga, ka pa ianei, i haere atu ki te mate, ae; nei koa, he waka ano tenei na o tupuna, a, he waka ano tena na o tupuna. Haere atu ra.’ Ka noho tera ki raro. Ka tu ko Puhihuia ki runga, i te taha ano a ia o Ponga e noho ana, a, i tu korero mai a ia i taua wahi i noho ai, ka mea, ‘E aku tupuna, haere mai, haere mai, ka kite i te mea i tahuti (oma) mai ra i a koutou. Naku koia te he? Naku a Tiki i ki hei tane? A, naku a Kau-ataata i ki hei wahine? Hua atu, na nga

followed with one of their own; and then all of them, hosts and visitors, joined in one great dance. After this the Awhitu people went on into the pa, waving their garments. The Maungawhau tribes followed them in, and sat down on the marae. The visitors had not been there long when an Awhitu chief rose and made a speech of welcome, followed by a chief from Maungawhau. Then the food-bearers entered the pa with the different foods for the feast, putting them down in a long heap. A chief of high rank of the Awhitu people, with a rod in his hand, walked up to the heap of food and struck it, saying, ‘The food, the food for all the tribes of Ngaiwi in all of their boundaries.’ The father of Puhihuia rose, and with a rod struck one of the heaps of food, and said, ‘The food, the food for all the tribes of Ngati-Kahukoka,’ then the members of each of the tribes for whom the feast was intended took their own portions and ate them. When the feast had been eaten the head chief of Awhitu rose, went up to a heap of the things which were precious in those days—huia feathers, feathers and down of the albatross, kaitaka (cloaks of fine flax with ornamental borders), greenstone, and every other precious thing—and said, ‘These treasures, these treasures are for our ancestors who have gone to the world of the spirits. These treasures, these treasures are for the priests and chiefs, and for the parents of my daughter Puhihuia.’ Having said this, he sat down. [This heap of treasures would be left on the marae until evening, when Puhihuia's attendants would distribute them amongst the Maungawhau people.] While he was speaking, the Maungawhau people were assembling together, and were placing on the marae presents of hapuku, mackerel and eels, kiwi, dogs and rats, preserved pigeons, kaka, and snipe. These were piled into one heap. Then another heap was made of garments and weapons of war, and another of the pulp of the hinau berry (made into bread) and the pollen of the raupo (made also into bread). Then the father of Puhihuia rose, and with a rod in his hand he went to the heaps and touched them with the rod, and said, ‘Hearken, O world of darkness! And hearken, O world of light! Here are treasures for you, O gods, and ancients, and descendants of Hotunui—here is property for you; and you. Continued on Page 43