The Sacred Huia

Te Ao Hou, March 1968, Page 41

The Sacred Huia by T. V. Saunders It is over 60 years since I gazed with wonder and admiration upon the most sacred of all New Zealand forest-dwelling birds—the huia. It is presumed to be extinct, with the last authentic data being collected in 1907. There still linger in my mind affectionate memories of the most tapu (sacred), and most treasured manu (bird) of the feathered kingdom to the Maori people. To the Maoris, only chiefs and rangatiras of high rank and distinction were privileged to adorn themselves with its remarkable whitetipped tail feathers (piki huia). My thoughts still wander backwards to my first sighting of the huia, and with a saddened heart I think of the passing into oblivion of the birds through the ruthless killing indulged in by both Maori and Pakeha. The fortune hunters of that period received up to about £2 a bird. My first glimpse of the huia came about when Mr Charles Matthews, the owner of the Wai-o-rongo-mai station invited Heta Te Miha and Aporo Hare, two well known elders of the Pirinoa and Palliser Bay area to hunt for huias for themselves and their tribes. I was very keen to make the trip and I asked the elders if they would take me along with them. To my delight they both agreed to take me. Early one morning in May 1902, we made the long trek in a light waggon with a draughthorse in the shaft, along the eastern side of the Wairarapa Lake, then along the western shores of the lake in a southerly direction to Wai-o-rongo-mai station. On our arrival at the homestead, Mr Matthews instructed one of his shepherds to pack our belongings to a camp which had already been prepared for us. We spent the rest of the day making our camp comfortable, and just as we were about to have our tea, the dog we had taken along with us began barking at a wild pig he had cornered. One of the elders shot the pig which we dressed to augment our meat supply. Early the next morning we climbed a nearby ridge where the two elders took turns at whistling the huia call, but their whistling was in vain, for no answering call was received from the birds. The next morning we climbed up another ridge, where the same routine as on the first day was carried out, but our efforts were again in vain. That evening, when we were sitting around our camp fire, Heta Te Miha related to us the following legend about a female huia. ‘Long, long ago, some time after the great canoe migration to Aotea-roa (New Zealand), there was a high-ranking chief who was in the habit of going up into the mountains to set snares for birds. One day when he went to gather in his catch he was surprised to see a strange bird held in one of his snares. Of course, the stranger was the huia. ‘The chief was full of admiration for the beautiful bird he had captured and he plucked two feathers from its tail and wore them in his hair. Perhaps this was the first occasion the huia feathers were worn as a head decoration. ‘Before liberating the huia, the chief bestowed upon it a magic spell and mana (power) with the command that the bird was to appear before him when it was wanted. ‘Now it happened that on one occasion when the chief requested the bird to appear, it was nesting time for the huia and its tail feathers were ruffled and in a bad state. The chief was very angry and asked the bird why its tail feathers were in such a bad condition. The bird told him that it was through sitting on its nest. ‘The chief then said: “I will provide you with a means that will enable you to keep your tail feathers in good order when I next call on you.” He took hold of the huia, which was a female, and bent its beak into a circular shape. He then commanded the huia that every time it sat on its nest, it was to pick up its tail feathers with its circular beak and lift them clear of the nest.’ ‘This campfire story provides an ingenious explanation for the long beak of the female huia, and doubtless gave satisfaction in the telling—another illustration of the legendary power of a great ancestor. It was on the third day of our huia hunt that we made contact with the huias, when after the elders had been whistling for about half an hour, they were rewarded with an answer to their calls from far to the south of the ridge on which we were located. Closer and closer we heard the answers to our whistling. Suddenly the fluttering of wings