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