ing. Her combination of charm and force was unforgettable, she gave her people a renewed belief in themselves and in the future. So the mourners arrived, bus load after bus load, and small private parties arrived, too, and joined the larger ones, for the ceremonial greeting of the dead. So many were the groups of mourners that buses often arrived before the tribe in front of them had finished paying its respects. So the new arrivals waited outside until a messenger came out from the marae, inviting them in. The mourners then passed under the ceremonial gate, hung with willow branches, and slowly made their way through the tree-bordered lane to the large circle of people silently standing round the centre of the marae. Of the pain and grief that was expressed during these days it would be indelicate to speak. It is a pain from which all who have not experienced it have to be excluded. ‘The tears roll to avenge Death’, says the splendid old chant. The best way of recalling these days is perhaps to repeat one chant that was sung by Pei Jones just before the funeral: Listen, oh multitude: This is the ancestor of death. Clinging to me, It grew at Te Reinga; It grew also in grief, It is Rongotaharangi,1A god. Hovering, whirling about. I fall and lie Sleeping, with knees drawn up, sleeping hugged together, Sleeping with down-pressed head. Like me Is Mahutonga confused in the cloud;2Southern Cross. I am listless, A hawk screaming in the eighth month,3Season of scarcity. A bittern booming in the marsh. Many ancient songs like this one were heard on the marae. Old people who hardly ever leave their homes sang them, and to the multitude they were almost, or entirely unknown. There was no tribe, and hardly a clan that was not represented here. More than ten thousand people paid their respects to the deceased. The women particularly felt the sharpness of their loss. Te Puea had, especially, been their leader. She had shown them what a Maori woman could be; she had been an example to look up to. Particularly those who are active in the Maori Women's Welfare League had been inspired by her work. It seemed natural for the League to come forward and mourn for Te Puea in a body, ignoring tribal differences. The pakeha was officially represented by the Rt. Hon. S. G. Holland, the Hon. E. B. Corbett and the Hon. Mrs G. H. Ross, and the Rt. Hon. W. Nash. Nearly three hundred telegrams of condolence were received from all over the world. Representatives of the United States, India and Australia,