did the rascal dare to break my gourds? I am furious at his insolence’. Then Tutanekai caught up his spear and went to the side of the pool, and called out, ‘Where is the fellow who has broken my gourds?’ Hinemoa knew by his voice that this was Tutanekai, and she hid under the overhanging rocks at the edge of the pool. She did this from shyness, so that Tutanekai might not find her at once, but only after trouble and careful searching. Then Tutanekai went feeling along the edges of the lake, seeking everywhere, while she lay hidden, looking out and wondering when he would find her. At last he caught hold of a hand, and said, ‘Ho ho, what's this?’ And Hinemoa answered, ‘It is I, Tutanekai’. And he said, ‘But who are you? Who's I?’ Then she said more loudly, ‘It is I, it is Hinemoa’. Then he said, ‘Ah, can this really be? Come then to my house’. And she answered, ‘Yes’, and rose up from the water as beautiful as the wild white hawk, and stepped upon the side of the pool as graceful as the shy white crane; and he threw his cloak about her, and took her to his house, and thenceforth, according to the customs of those days, they were man and wife. In the morning, when all the people in the village came out of their houses to get their breakfast. Tutanekai remained inside. His father said, ‘This is the first morning Tutanekai has slept in like this; perhaps he isn't well’. He sent a servant to see, and the servant slid back the wooden window and peered inside. Then to his astonishment he saw in the room not two, but four feet. He ran back to his master and told him this. Then Tutanekai's father said, ‘Who is his companion? Go quickly and see’. So the servant went back, and saw that it was Hinemoa. Then he shouted out in amazement, ‘Oh, here's Hinemoa, here's Hinemoa in the house of Tutanekai!’, and all the village heard him, and there arose cries on every side, ‘Oh, here's Hinemoa, here's Hinemoa in the house of Tutanekai!’ Then some of the people said, ‘It can't be true, Tutanekai can't have won Hinemoa’. But then Tutanekai came out of his house, and behind him came Hinemoa, and everyone saw that it was true. All this was a long time ago. The descendants of Hinemoa and Tutanekai are living at Rotorua to this day, and still they tell the story of how the beautiful Hinemoa swam across the great lake to her lover.

The photograph at the bottom of page 39 is by Bernie Hill; the one above it, and the lower photograph on page 40, are by Theo Schoon. The photographs on pages 8 and 42 are from The Dominion, Wellington; those on pages 44 and 45 are from the Alexander Turnbull Library.

Hannah Tatana as ‘Carmen’ Miss Hannah Tatana, who is well known as a contralto singer of great promise, achieved a further success in Wellington recently. Making her first professional appearance in opera, she took the leading role in many of the performances of the New Zealand Opera Company's production of ‘Carmen’, alternating in this role with the visiting English singer Joyce Blackham. This is the first time a Maori singer has taken a leading part in an opera in New Zealand. Her performance was most enthusiastically received; one newspaper critic wrote that it showed her to be ‘capable of great development in an operatic career for which this is a most encouraging debut’. Miss Tatana comes from Taupo, where her parents live. She went to Queen Victoria School for Maori Girls in Auckland, and trained there as a singer. She had numerous successes in competitions, and last December sang the contralto solos in the Auckland Choral Society's production of the ‘Messiah’. She attended Auckland Teachers' College, and taught in Auckland for a time. She has recently married Mr Alec Stappard of Auckland.