hore he aha. A no ka kitea atu te waka ra e hoe mai ana, he nui te ope i te waka ra, hokotoru hoki, wahia ake e ono tekau wahine ra, tohu noa te pa ra he taua tane, i te mea hoki, he mea mau-a-tane te mau o te hoe, ko te kakahu he mea whitiki ki te hope, ko te mahunga he mea tia ki te hou. Ka kitea atu te waka ra, ka whakatika a Puhihuia, ka mea atu ki a Ponga, ‘Taua ki ko rara.’ Ka haere raua, a, ka heke ki te one o Awhitu, ka haere, a, ka tae ki te pari titi tonu i te pito o te one whaka te wahapu o Manukau, ko te tatutanga o taua pari ra e akina ake ana e te ngaru o te moana nui o waho. Haere tonu te tokorua raka, a, ka piki puku atu hoki a Ponga i muri i a ia, i a Puhihuia; noho ana raua. Hoe tonu mai te waka ra, a no ka tata ki uta ki Awhitu, ka karanga atu ano te wahine ra, te whaea o Puhihuia, ka mea, ‘Huna hoki, ka aha, a, whakina hoki ka aha? Ka hei tau; penei rawa ake te ra nei ka to, noho ana ano koe i Maungawhau.’ A no ka kite iho a Puhihuia i te waka ra he wahine kau, ka mea atu a ia ki a Ponga, ‘He wahine kau nga kaihoe o te waka ra, otiia he tane pea ia kei roto kei te riu e takoto huna ana. Mei hoe taua tane mai, e kore au e mau, ko te pari ano tenei e torere ai au ki te mate; e kore au e hoki ora ki aku mutua.’ Ka whakatika a ia ki runga, ka karanga atu ki te waka ra, ‘Hoe mai nei, tenei maua ko taku ariki.’ Te patu a te kotiro ra e mau ra i tana ringa, he taiaha, he patu tapu na nga matua o Ponga ma, he patu oha na nga kahika, he patu kura. Manu mai ana te waka ra, me te titiro puku atu te pa raka, hore te mea kotahi o te pa nei i puta ki waho; anake, anake, te tane, te tamariki, te wahine, noho puku mai ana i roto i te pa. Roa kau iho ano te waka ra e tau ana i muri iho o te kupu a Puhihuia; ka pa ano te karanga a te wahine ra, te whaea o Puhihuia, ki te pa ra, ka mea, ‘Puta mai ki waho nei. He aha koe i tahae ai i taku kotiro? He aha tau i a au, i maia ai koe ki taku kahurangi kia hei ana i to uma? Puta mai taua ki waho nei kekeri (whawhai) ai.’ Noho puku tonu mai te pa ra; he tane koa nana aua kupu ki te pa ra, kua pai atu te pa ra. Tena, he wahine e kore e pai kia hoa ririri te tane o Ngati-Kahukoka ki te wahine ariki o Nga-iwi; koia raka te take i noho puku ai te pa ra. Katahi ka karanga atu a Puhihuia ki tana whaea, ‘I kiia atu ra, hei Paerau he kitenga mo taua, a, ka tohe mai na ano koe. Pokanoa ai to kupu ki a Ngati-Kahukoka, i a au e tu atu nei, te tangata nana te hara. Kati mai koe canoe was seen paddling towards them, bearing what seemed to be a large party of men, for they used their paddles as men do, and the garments they wore were held by a belt around the waist; also, they wore plumes in their hair. When the canoe was seen Puhihuia rose and said to Ponga, ‘Let us go down there.’ They went down to the Awhitu beach, then continued on until they reached a steep cliff washed by the surge of the sea, at the end of the beach nearest the mouth of the Manukau. The two of them continued on, and Ponga climbed up in silence behind Puhihuia; then they both sat down. The canoe came on, and when it was near the shore at Awhitu, the mother of Puhihuia stood up once more and called to those in the pa, and said, ‘If you hide yourselves, what can you gain? If you show yourselves, what will you lose? By the time that this day's sun has set, you will be living again at Maungawhau.’ When Puhihuia had discovered that the crew of the canoe were all women she said to Ponga, ‘The paddlers in the canoe are all women, but men may be lying hidden in the bilge. If they had been men, they would not have taken me; this is the cliff over which I would have thrown myself to death. I will not go back to my parents.’ She rose up and called to those in the canoe, ‘Paddle your canoe towards me. I and my loved one are here.’ She held a taiaha in her hand, a sacred heirloom of the ancestors of Ponga, ornamented with red feathers, which had been handed down from past generations. The canoe was now as though lying at anchor and the people of the pa were looking at it in silence. Not one of the people in the pa had come outside; all of them—men, children, women—were sitting in silence inside the pa. For a long time after Puhihuia had spoken the canoe floated there in silence, then her mother called from the canoe, and said to the occupants of the pa, ‘Come outside. Why did you rob me of my daughter? What property have I of yours, that you should take my precious greenstone to wear on your breast? Come outside, that we may fight our battle.’ Those in the pa kept perfect silence; but if the words spoken by the mother of Puhihuia had been said to them by a man they would eagerly have accepted the challenge. The Ngati-Kahukoka would not dare to battle with a woman of supreme rank of the Nga-iwi of the people of Maungawhau; it was for this reason that those in the pa were silent. Then Puhihuia called out to her mother, ‘I