“Things are a bit different now,” he thought. “All that land has changed hands and now our own people have to go away to find work. Perhaps it is just as well that boy is going to the University. There is nothing for him here and we need some Maori doctors too. I wish I had a better schooling. Huh! poor …” “Ah there's old Hiria!” Granny interrupted Koro's thoughts. “She's always working—fancy that. Those boys of hers should come back and help her.” “They won't return Mum. They've got good jobs in Auckland. Anyway there's nothing left for them here.” “Aue! All our young people are going to the city. What a shame! They should stay at home—this is their land.” “Not now,” broke in Rangi, “they've given it all away.” “Given it away?” “Near enough! Look at that farm of Jock Goldsack's. It's the best land around here and that silly Materoa sold it for less than 8000 pounds so he could set up a canteen in Auckland somewhere. Goldsack's making thousands out of it now.” Granny laughed. Rangi was always the same—always picking on old Jock. Perhaps it was because Jock was the best farmer in the district. “E Tuhou! What time do you get to your school?” Tuhou started. His mind was back at the farm. He was thinking of his horse and the day that he had raced bareback with a friend from the river right up to the cowshed. Tuhou was riding Tiny and she never let him down but that day she just wouldn't go fast. He lost the race and almost his horse, for the next day Tiny had a fever and couldn't stand up. Tuhou sat with her in the stables until the vet came and “fixed her up”. He never raced Tiny after that—not even when he was late for school. It was just like that time at the woolshed when … Granny's question brought his mind back. “Oh, about 3 o'clock on Friday I think,” he answered. “Dear me, what a long way it must be.” Granny

LITERARY COMPETITION JUDGMENT There were more entries to our fourth literary competition than to any of the previous ones and the quality had also gone up. The English entries were judged this year by Mr Alistair Campbell, the only modern poet of Polynesian descent to have made a national reputation in New Zealand literature. He is employed by School Publications as editor of some School Journals. Here are Mr Campbell's comments: “I have awarded first place to ‘Goodbye,’ by Tirohia, and second to ‘The Battle that Received a Name.’ Both I think are worth printing. I put ‘Goodbye’ ahead of ‘The Battle’ because I felt that Tirohia writes with more than usual insight about an everyday situation and so invests it with charm and poignancy whereas A. G. Armstrong, who skilfully reconstructs a Maori battle much as it might have happened, merely presents surface impressions and never gets inside his characters, although they are carefully described. It is in fact the descriptions of the customs and the events that give the story its interest. It is to his credit that ‘Tirohia’—and to a lesser extent the other Maori entrants—has dispensed with the usual ready-made plot and easy characterisations and has written directly and honestly about things that are real and significant to him. ‘Goodbye’ is only a sketch, but it is the kind of thing we ought to encourage for it is alive and full of promise.” ‘The Battle that Received a Name’ will be published in our next issue, and in addition three more stories, submitted for the competition in English, have been accepted for publication. They are by Mason Durie Jun., Kate Shaw, and D. M. Rawene.