A Nineteenth Century Tuhoe Waiata Tangi

Turnbull Library Record, Volume 21, Issue 2, 1 October 1988, Page 75

A Nineteenth Century Tuhoe Waiata Tangi

COMMENTARY AND TRANSLATION BY MARGARET ORBELL

Most of the waiata composed in the late nineteenth century have been forgotten, yet the words of some of them await discovery in manuscripts and early publications. A beautiful waiata tangi recorded among Elsdon Best’s papers in the Alexander Turnbull Library was composed in 1897 by Tukua-te-rangi Tutakangahau on the death of his daughter Marewa-i-te-rangi. 1 Tukua-te-rangi and his family lived at the remote settlement of Maungapohatu, deep in the densely forested mountains of the Urewera. He and his wife, Te Kura, had three children. His father, then an old man, was the famous Tutakangahau who was rangatira of the Tamakaimoana hapu of Tuhoe and a leading authority on the traditions of his people.

A school had recendy been opened at Te Whaiti, and Tutakangahau, wishing his grandchildren to acquire the new knowledge as well as the old, decided they should be sent to study there. At that time it took at least a day and a half to walk from Maungapohatu to Te Whaiti. Tutakangahau arranged for the three children to stay with people at Te Whaiti, and he also asked Elsdon Best, a Pakeha friend and student of Tuhoe tradition who was living there, to concern himself with their welfare. The children were constant visitors at Best’s home, attracted, he suspected, by the biscuits he always had for them. But then tragedy came to the Urewera. An influenza epidemic struck down one person after another, and scarcely a day went by without the sound of rifle fire which announced a new death. Tukua-te-rangi’s daughter Marewa-i-te-rangi became ill, and she died soon after her parents came to her.

Tukua-te-rangi’s waiata tangi for Marewa laments her death and farewells her, tracing the journey to her ancestors which she must make. In the first lines, he also laments the deaths of relatives of Marewa who have died as well. 2 He blames their deaths, in the traditional way, upon Hine-nui-te-po, the Great Woman of the Night who was said to have brought death into the world; but he also blames Satan, and he expresses, again in traditional terms, his wish to avenge Satan’s action. Then in a traditional metaphor he honours the dead by speaking of them as ‘te whetu mete marama’, the stars and the moon.

Though the people of Te Whaiti had asked that Marewa should be buried there, she was taken back to Maungapohatu. It took three days for the young men of the district to carry the bier over the very steep, difficult track. Each night the party stayed at a village on the way, and there were mourning ceremonies and speeches of farewell. In each place the people asked that the child should be buried in their urupa, but her father would not agree. In his waiata Tukua-te-rangi traces this journey to Maungapohatu, speaking as though Marewa were still alive. After crossing the Okahu Stream, a tributary of the Whirinaki, the party made their way to the summit of Tarapounamu, where Hine-okaia, one of Marewa’s playmates who had died in the epidemic, had recently been buried. And finally, on the last stage of their journey, the party climbed to the summit of the peak known as Te Whakaumu. From there they could see Maungapohatu, the tapu mountain under which they lived. Maungapohatu was spoken of as the mother of Tamakaimoana, and as their mana. The bones of their ancestors lie in caves on the mountain, near two huge rocks known as Nga Whatu a Maru. Tukua-te-rangi tells his daughter that she will be welcomed by her ancestors, and that she will rest with them there. Elsdon Best, who was accompanying the party, later described the ascent of Te Whakaumu:

When we reached the summit of the high, bleak range of Te Whakaumu a halt was made at the old taumata, or resting-place, used by these foot-travellers of the great forest for centuries past . . . Through a break in the driving storm we see the great rock bluff of Maunga-pohatu far above and ahead of us . . . Now the summit of the mountain is suddenly covered with a white pall of mist. An old man said, ‘The mountain is greeting for her child.’ The parents of the child are a little apart; they have chaunted a lament for their child and greeted their mountain home. Then, as the mountain-brow becomes obscured by the mists the whole of the people give voice together in an ancient dirge . . . The bitter sleet and snow, fierce-driven by the winds, pelt the mourners unmercifully. Through the drifting scud we see the great cliffs far ahead, wherein are the caves of the dead, where lie the bones of many generations of the children of Potiki. And then, with the storm fiends lashing us, we go down into the darkling valley below. 3

In the second stanza of his song, Tukua-te-rangi honours his daughter by speaking of her, in traditional epithets, as ‘taku mahuri totara’, my young totara, and ‘taku kuru pounamu’, my greenstone ear pendant; Tawhiritari must be the name of a forest. The idea that a treasure has fallen from the sky appears to be a Christian one, the meaning being that Marewa had been sent from heaven by God. The mist of which the poet speaks must be associated with the mist with which Maungapohatu greeted her child and mourned her as she returned to rest with her ancestors. Marewa’s wairua, her soul, is seen as setting out from Maungapohatu, having rested first at Ngauwaka; this is a place in the Waikare Valley near the settlement of Maungapohatu,

and the idea must be that her wairua will travel down the Waikare River, a tributary of the Whakatane River. 4 When she reaches the ocean, Marewa will dive into the water and make her way northwards to Te Reinga, the Leaping Place. From there she will join her ancestors in Te Po, the underworld. In the last stanza, Te Pehi-o-te-rangi is Elsdon Best, whose usual Maori name was Te Pehi; he is honoured here by being spoken of as Te Pehi-o-te-rangi, Best-of-the-sky. Best had been present when Marewa passed away, having arrived just in time to join her relatives in farewelling her. Paki is a woman living at Te Whaiti, almost certainly the person with whom Marewa had been staying. 5 Although the address to her takes the form of a reproach, this passage honours her by acknowledging her relationship with Marewa; and the poet goes on, in any case, to express the traditional idea that when once an atua, or spirit, is intent upon devouring a person, nothing can be done. The words ‘e te tau’, my love, are addressed to Marewa. Finally, and again traditionally, Tukua-te-rangi accuses Marewa of having thoughtlessly abandoned her relatives. He condemns the education which had indirectly led to his daughter’s death, 6 and he speaks once more of his sorrow. His song is in one way most painful to read, bringing before us the events it describes. Yet because it has the nobility of high art, it transforms the circumstances which produced it. This was, indeed, its purpose. Like other composers of waiata tangi, Tukua-te-rangi made a powerful and beautiful song which confronted death and affirmed the value of life. And because life and death are universal concerns, his song speaks still for all of us.

He Waiata Tangi Na Tukua-te-rangi Tutakangahau mo tana tamahine, mo Marewa-i-te-rangi; i mate ia i te 13 o nga ra o Hepetema, 1897. Ko Marewa he tamaiti rangatira tenei no Tamakaimoana, hapu o Tuhoe.

E hine, Marewa-i-te-rangi e takoto kino nei, Kore nei, e hine, ou tuakana, ou taina, i tipu ake kite ao. Tena ka riro atu i a Hine-nui-te-po. E hiakai ana ahau te wai roro i a Hatana, E hiakai ana ahau te atua ngau kino Nana rawa i tiki mai te whetu mete marama. Haere ra, e hine, kauria atu rate kauanga i Okahu. Piki atu, e hine, kia whakaeke atu ko Tarapounamu, Tapuitia atu ko Hine-okaia, kai kona e moe ana. Kia tere tau haere, kei whaia atu to tira huri kino

I ou tuakana e aue kau nei, te mutu noa te mamae. Maro tonu te haere, whakanga rawa atu ko Te Whakaumu, Titiro to kanohi ki Nga Whatu a Maru: Ko te iwi nui tena ma ratau koe e whakatau kite whare, E hine ra. Takuate kau au. Kai hea koe, [e] hine Ka ngaro nei i ahau? Tena ka riro i te tira kahurangi. Taku mahuri totara no roto o Tawhaitari, Taku kuru pounamu i taka iho i te rangi, Pokia iho ra e te karekare tuakohu. Noho ana i Ngauwaka, Whakamau te titiro kite tai whakawaho. Rukuhia, e hine, te ruku a te kawau Kia ea ake ana te wa ki ou matua. Huri mai i kona; kati, ka hoki mai ki ahau, e hine.

Ka tika Te Pehi-o-te-rangi te hara mai Kia kite iho i te tau huri kino I a tatau: haere ana, ka riro. E hine, tahuri mai ki muri ra, taihoa e haere, Kia whaia atu to tira mokemoke ki raro o Te Reinga! To kino, e Paki, te whai koha koe Ki te whakaatu noa i te hauoratanga! Me aha, e te tau, te ngau e te atua ka ngoto kai roto? Hara mai koutou, kia tangi atu au te ao marama. E kore e hunaa te mamae i a au ki a koe, e! Marewa, E hine, koha-kore rawa koe ki ou tuakana ka mahue kite kura. Ehara, e te iwi, e haunga na roto te matauranga. Anei, e te iwi, ka kite i te raru, Huri mate noa ahau ei!

A Waiata Tangi By Tukua-te-rangi Tutakangahau for his daughter, Marewa-te-rangi, who died on 13 September 1897. Marewa was a high-born girl of the Tamakaimoana hapu of Tuhoe. My girl Marewa-i-te-rangi, lying in this unhappy state, Your elder cousins and younger cousins, girl, did not grow up to live in this world, They were carried off by Hine-nui-te-po.

I am hungry for Satan’s brains, I am hungry for that cruelly devouring spirit For it was he who came and took from me the stars and the moon. Set out, girl, and wade across the ford at Okahu. Climb up, girl, and when you reach the summit of Tarapounamu Take as your companion Hine-okaia, who is sleeping there. Go quickly, or you may be followed on your journey as you turn sadly away From your elder sisters who keep lamenting here, their sorrow never ceasing. Go straight on, and when you stop to catch your breath on Te Whakaumu Let your eyes gaze at Nga Whatu a Maru. All your tribe are there, and they will offer you rest in their house, My girl.

All I can do is mourn. Where are you, girl Who is lost to me? She is carried away on a noble journey. My young totara from within Tawhaitari, My greenstone ear pendant fallen from the sky Is covered with waves of mist. When you rest at Ngauwaka, Fix your gaze upon the region beyond. Dive down, girl, dive like a shag And come up in the realm of your ancestors. Then turn back towards me. That’s far enough, you must come back to me, girl!

Te Pehi-o-te-rangi came straight To gaze upon the beloved who was turning so sadly away From us: he came, and she was gone. Girl, turn back to us, wait before you go, You must be followed on your lonely journey, going down below Te Reinga! It was your fault, Paki, for having nothing to give That would have pointed the way to health. But what could we do, my love, when the spirit devoured within? Come to me all of you, let me mourn her in the world of light. The pain I feel for you can never be hidden. Oh Marewa, Girl, you showed no concern for your elder sisters left behind at the school. See, my people, education is stinking within! Now, my people, I am in distress, I keep turning about in my pain.

REFERENCES 1 Best, Elsdon. Scrapbooks, 1901-31, v. 3 [2lo] p. 9 qMS BES, Alexander Turnbull Library, For permission to publish it, I am indebted to the Chief Librarian, and also to Mr Te Rangianiwaniwa Rakuraku, of Tamakaimoana. The words of the song, with a brief introductory note, are on a printed sheet cut from an unknown publication and pasted on the page. There are also some additional notes in Best’s handwriting. Probably Best arranged for the song to be printed in a pamphlet of some kind, perhaps on the occasion of a Tuhoe meeting. Best did not translate the song, but described Marewa’s tangihanga at length in ‘Maori Eschatology: The Whare Potae and its Lore’, Transactions and Proceedings of the New Zealand Institute, 38 (1905) 148-239 (pp. 204-10). There is also an account in Elsdon Craig’s Man of the Mist: A Biography of Elsdon Best (Wellington, 1964), pp. 75-78. Information about place names on Maungapohatu is given in Best’s Tuhoe: The Children of the Mist, 2 vols (Wellington, 1925), I, 53. 2 Best does not tell us whether Tukua-te-rangi’s other two children were boys or girls, but since Marewa was seven or eight when she went to the Te Whaiti school, the others were almost certainly older than her. This being so, her ‘tuakana’, in lines 11 and 37, must be two elder sisters. Because of this, and because there is nothing to suggest that any other of Tukua-te-rangi’s children had died, the words ‘tuakana’ and ‘teina’ in line 2 must refer to female cousins rather than sisters.

3 Best, ‘Maori Eschatology’, pp. 207-08. 4 In a handwritten note, Best explains that Ngauwaka is ‘a place in Waikare valley nr. M’pohatu’. As well, Te Ihu ki Ngauwaka is the name of the northernmost peak of Maungapohatu; these two names must be associated in some way. It was believed in the Urewera that wairua made their way down the rivers to the sea, then travelled by water to Te Reinga (personal communication from Kino Hughes, 1978). 5 In a handwritten note, Best notes that Te Paki is a ‘woman of Nfgati] Whare at Te Whaiti, where Marewa died’. 6 The phrasing of this line is unusual, and there may be an idiomatic meaning which I have not understood; if so, I should be grateful for a correction and explanation. There may be a deliberate ambiguity, with a play upon the word ‘ehara’. This word is sometimes exclamatory and sometimes forms a negative. While it is treated as an exclamation in the translation ‘See’, it could perhaps also be taken as a negative, especially since the usual particles are often omitted after the negative ehara in proverbs and poetry. In this case, the line could also be taken as meaning, ‘lt is not, my people, as if education were stinking within’. If there is an ambiguity, it must surely reflect the poet’s complex state of mind as he contemplates the cause of his loss.