tāna whakatika, ka hari hoki ki tāna kai e whakatangi mai rā i te pūtātara, haere tonu ake. Kua puta ake, kua kite iho a Mahia, kātahi ka karanga iho a Mahia, ‘Haere mai!’ Ka tara ake hoki ngā waewae o Hihi-o-tote ki te haere māna; kua tata mai, kua tuku mai i tana ihu ki te hongi. Ka kitea atu e Mahia i te koinga o te oka a Hihi-o-tote ka puta ake i te whiri o tana komeke, kātahi ka patua e Mahia ki tāna pūtātara. Tukua mai anō e Hihi-o-tote, ka hemo, kātahi rāua ka mamau. Ka pekea mai e Orokewa, ka hinga a Hihi-o-tote ki raro. Ka puta tāna pepeha, he mea kī ake i raro: ‘I tokoruatia Hihi-o-tote i mate ai.’ to the top of Kaka Hill. They sat down there, and Mahia blew a blast on his trumpet. His son Orokewa waited some distance away. When Hihi-o-tote heard the sound of Mahia's trumpet he made for him at once, seizing his cloak with the dagger fastened in it. He set out straight away, rejoicing very much to hear his food [that is, Mahia] sounding the trumpet. As he drew near to them, Mahia saw him and called out ‘Welcome!’ Hihi-o-tote approached at a smart pace; he came up to him, and offered his nose in a hongi. Mahia saw the sharpness of Hihi-o-tote's dagger as it was drawn from the cloak, and he struck him with his trumpet. Hihi-o-tote dodged the blow, it