The haangi at Waiwhetu. (John Ashton, Photo.) strode down on to the marae so that, he said, he could look the Prime Minister in the face. There, using his walking stick like a taiaha of old, he gestured, postured, strode up and down, and used all the tricks of old-time Maori oratory to cast a spell on his audience. And they cheered and laughed and clapped their appreciation when he had ended. But behind the scenes? The five thousand had to be fed. “Oh” said Mrs Dingwall afterwards, (she had given her services to take charge of the catering) “really there was nothing to it. You see, I had such a grand band of Maori women helping me as a Committee. There were hundreds of other voluntary helpers too including students and nurses from the Hutt Hospital.” Yet, to feed several meals to five thousand people must have had “something to it,” however good the team. Add to the enormous size of the gathering—4000 Maori visitors alone—the fact that at two o'clock in the morning food servers reported that nothing more could be served because of the quagmire in the marquees; that meanwhile busloads of new arrivals continued to pour in from all over the country, all expecting food, until four o'clock in the morning—and some idea of the difficulties will be realised. But even in these formidable circumstances, Maori calmness and cheerfulness prevailed. Willing hands (Pakeha and Maori) set to work to dig drains round the tents, to lay boards over the mud, and soon the tables were again loaded with food. And what quantities! Mrs Dingwall did the ordering on the principle of multiplying what five people would require by 1,000. Three tons of potatoes—two tons for the Saturday midday meal alone—seven hundred and fifty pounds of curried sausages for breakfast, with nearly two hundred sacks of mussels. Thousands of pauas (kept in deep freeze for three weeks), 2000 fowls, 184 puddings (each enough for 30 people), 75 sheep, 40 pigs, 2 bullocks, 120 of the fowls,—these for Saturday midday dinner to which 5000 sat down in four shifts. Twenty sheep for curried mutton; hundreds of schnapper, dozens of eels, smoked and served in small pieces as befitted such a delicacy …. the list went on and on. Wainuiomata had provided the eels. A week-end eeling party went there when the moon was right for the eels to come to the surface. Much of this vast quantity of food had been given by large firms, such as the Gear Meat Company and Griffin's the biscuit makers. Local butchers had provided at least two sheep each, one giving six and another ten. The National Dairy Company lent for several weeks the vital deep freeze. It was an example, in fact, of willing and abundant co-operation such as is rarely seen. For weeks young Maori divers had been at work collecting sea foods. Kara Puketapu, Maori Welfare Officer and eldest son of Ihaia, was in charge and for half a dozen week-ends he and his launch party might have been seen off Pencarrow, or Titahi Bay or around Somes Island, while divers with underwater breathing apparatus searched for the delicious sea-eggs, mussels, pauas, and other delicacies. The weather had no mercy on them. Almost unfailingly it was rough and although the boys went down deep,—25 to 30 feet,—it was too dangerous to harvest many sea eggs. The greater part of those consumed at the feast were brought by the Otaki people who could get them at shallower depths. Besides, Ihaia Puketapu was determined that no needless tragedy should spoil the joy of the great opening day, and often he restrained the young divers from going out. Many, as they now entered the meeting house to inspect its glories, stopped to look in amazement at the carvings, the work of Hone Te Kauru Taiapa and his expert assistants, for these are carrvings which may well take their place among the noblest that Maori art has ever produced. To all Maoris these carvings have a peculiar and spiritual significance. To some, as to some Pakehas, they have also a profound artistic significance. The appeal of Maori sculptural art does not always reach easily those of the Western cultural tradition, but when it does, it strikes with tremendous impact. Only recently an Italian art specialist made this same discovery. At first glance he had found little, but when he went home, after studying Maori carving for some months, he was in raptures about it.