Publicly accessible
URL: http://nzetc.victoria.ac.nz/collections.html
copyright 2004, by Victoria University of Wellington
All unambiguous end-of-line hyphens have been removed, and the trailing part of a word has been joined to the preceding line. Every effort has been made to preserve the Māori macron using unicode.
Some keywords in the header are a local Electronic Text Collection scheme to aid in establishing analytical groupings.
hongi salute 47moa 62Mauri. Talismanic stones 68alia type 123pa 249pataka, or elevated storehouse 259tuahu or sacred place 289tiki pendants 295mauri 305Hakari stages 380–382Taha huahua
421
Poha titi; a kelp vessel 422toki pou tangata 444pare or lintel piece 480
The data contained in this sketch of Maori life and its activities in pre-European times is the result of an almost life-long interest in our native folk on the part of the writer. In the distant “seventies” of last century, when camped in the dark places of the land, I began to take an interest in the Maori, our predecessor in the isles of Aotearoa. As time rolled on that interest deepened, until the thought grew that it would be well to note down any matter of interest contributed by native friends. That resolve has brought to me the keenest pleasures of a long life, and the shabby old field notebooks now serve as a mine in which I weary not of delving.
In order to produce a volume of this size, and yet make a comprehensive survey of Maori life, it was necessary to omit a great quantity of detail matter, but it is hoped that the following pages contain a fairly well-balanced and explanatory account of the neolithic Maori, his customs, institutions, and beliefs. The writer makes no pretence of presenting a scientific work, but merely sends this sketch forth as the jottings of a bush collector. The endeavour has been to make the picture of old-time Maori life as true and faithful a one as possible. It is no easy task to collect and record correctly such data pertaining to a scriptless people. The matter of differing tribal versions alone is very confusing. With regard to some subjects only a long-continued patience and persistence has brought the light so long sought.
It is hoped that a comprehensive account of native life will be useful to many, and of some interest to those who do not make any searching enquiry into the life of barbaric man.
In many bush camps have these notes been collected, in the depths of the Forest of Tane, in native huts, and in military encampments, in lone places where now is heard the rushing locomotive and the whiring motor car. the comforts of life surround one here by city streets, but the graceless Bohemian mind wheels regretfully back to the 6 x 8 tent, the far-spread forest, the brown-skinned friends, and the life that men live. E! Aku ra ki tua!
The men who provided the material for this story of Stone Age man I would thank for their assistance, though the majority of them have trodden the Broad Path of Tane that leads to the spirit world. To those who survive, and to future generations, I would say—for errors made I cry your mercy, and, as for omissions, I would quote an old saying of your fathers—He taonga nui te wareware.
Remains but to lay down the skidway and launch the Maori canoe on the darkling waters of Mahora-nui-atea. Adorned with strange devices carved by cunning hands, decked with plumes and fluttering pennant, with her mat sails hoisted and long steer oars swung outboard, she will lift the sea roads laid down by old Polynesian sea kings in the mist-enveloped past. Though launched by a member of an alien race, yet is she laden with the sympathy that recognises and greets the qualities and concepts that render the Maori folk so interesting a study. Haply, in days that lie before, the descendants of the old Polynesian Vikings will greet her as bringing to them the semblance of their courageous ancestors.
The science of anthropology is one that has made great strides within the past thirty years, and increasing numbers of people continue to take up the study of man. This has naturally led to a demand for works describing the customs, arts and institutions of savage and barbaric man. Data on these subjects, if collected by responsible persons, are always welcomed by ethnographers. This quickening interest in the subject has led to the collection of much additional matter pertaining to races and tribes concerning whom many works had already been published. A marked feature in many of the later anthropological works is the attention given to detail, combined with a more methodical and scientific manner of compilation.
The Polynesian race, though not important so far as numbers are concerned, is one that deeply interests anthropologists. Although it was found occupying a very large area of the Pacific Ocean, yet its many island communities have been isolated for centuries. Such isolation was with regard to other races; there has been much intercourse at various periods between different islands and groups. The Melanesian folk of the western Pacific area is the only foreign race that the Polynesian has come into contact with for many centuries. The fair-skinned Polynesian would acquire few arts from such a people, and he despised them on account of their colour. Maori tradition shows that their ancestors have encountered the dark-skinned western islanders, and such traditions always refer to the inferior culture or appearance of the black race. Some Melanesian tribes, as those of parts of the New Hebrides, might well have given rise to such a pronouncement, while others had, in certain ways, advanced further than the Polynesian. As an example one may mention the pottery making of Fiji.
Perhaps the most interesting subject connected with the Polynesian is his mentality, and it is one that will be illustrated by the matter contained in the following chapters. For the mythopoetic mentality of the people of the Many Isled Sea
The Maori of New Zealand is a member of the far-spread Polynesian race, speaking a dialect of the common tongue that is spoken from the Chatham Isles to the Sandwich or Hawaiian Group, and from Easter Island to the eastern bounds of Melanesia, and beyond. For Polynesian colonies are found far within Melanesia, at Futuna, at Tikopia, at Taumako, at Rennel Island, at Ontong-java, and elsewhere. At Nukuoro, or Monteverde Island, in the far-off Caroline Group, we find a Polynesian community speaking a dialect closely akin to that of New Zealand.
The student of barbaric culture who makes a study of such a people as the Maori finds much to interest him in their lore and institutions. For here, among a people who have been isolated for long centuries, we encounter what may be termed fossilised arts, concepts, and customs that throw much light on that engrossing subject—the development of human culture.
The Polynesian ancestors of the Maori led the way in neolithic deep sea voyaging; no other race we wot of in that culture stage has equalled them as navigators, explorers and colonisers. The Maori genius for personification, and love of allegorical recitals, endow his myths and spiritual concepts with a very marked element of interest. For many years it was the aim of the writer of these rough notes to collect all possible data concerning Maori life in pre-European days, and more especially to endeavour to become acquainted with native mentality. This led to a desire to seek and explain the hidden meaning of their myths and religious beliefs, their personifications, ritual, and cryptic sayings. This matter of close enquiry into such subjects is a much-needed activity; we have, in the past, been far too prone to neglect detail and thoroughness, and the exercise of the critical faculty.
Certain arts, institutions, and artifacts of the Maori are not traceable to Polynesia, and it is possible that these were borrowed from the original settlers of these isles of New Zealand. It is hoped this review of old-time Maori life will be of some service to those who study the development of human institutions, and also not lacking in interest to the general reader.
The first Polynesian settlement of New Zealand probably occurred about thirty generations ago. A considerable number of voyages to and fro between Polynesia and these isles were made during the next ten generations, many immigrants from Eastern Polynesia settling here. Twenty generations ago a number of vessels arrived here from the Society Group, bringing a fresh influx of settlers. From that time, however, voyages to and from Polynesia appear to have rapidly decreased. The only such expeditions referred to in local tradition, as having taken place during the last sixteen generations, are a few isolated voyages made from these shores to seek the old island home of the race. The last of such took place ten generations ago, since which time the Maori of New Zealand has apparently been isolated in these isles, having no communication with his kinsmen of Polynesia. Such is the position of the Maori, and it will be recognised that, during such a lapse of time, changes in dialect, customs, and institutions may well have taken place.
Polynesian characteristics—Morgan's misleading dictum as to Polynesian culture—Physical attributes of the Maori—Melanesian affinities—Maori craniology—Freedom from dental disease—The original inhabitants of New Zealand—Custom of flattening noses of infants; its probable origin—Tradition of Melanesian immigrants—Melanesian influence in New Zealand—A fair-skinned red-haired type—Albinism—Morphological data—Hair of Maori—Stamina—Bodily activity—Effect of superstition in illness—Diseases—Survival of the fit—Senses of the Maori—Disposition—Character—Treatment of the sick—Inferior form of religion an enemy to research—Maori mentality—The mythopoetic faculty—Effects of a ceaseless study of Nature—Powers of memory—Characteristics of children—Effects of communism—Remarkable neolithic navigators—Superstition—Artistic sense—Decorative art—Language—Gestures.
As members of the far-spread Polynesian race, the Maori folk of New Zealand are found on enquiry to have preserved the leading characteristics of that people. Leading features of such peculiarities are a stalwart physique and a high order of intelligence. To judge the Maori, or his brethren of northern isles, by the general state of backwardness in which they lived, by their somewhat primitive arts and artifacts, would assuredly be a misjudgment. It was here that Morgan erred when he placed the Polynesians in the lowest existing state of savagery, and indeed on the same culture plane as that of the natives of Australia. Evidence given in the following chapter will be sufficient to lift the Maori from such companionship.
A very marked feature in the physical attributes of the Maori is noted in the many Melanesian affinities in evidence, showing that the Maori must have intermarried with those dark-skinned folk, probably since he left the sunlit isles of Eastern Polynesia. In the frequent occurrence of the dark-
Transactions of the New Zealand Institute, Dr.
It is quite possible that some of the statements made by Dr. Scott will have to be modified when the results of the
The accounts preserved in oral tradition of the peculiarities of the original native folk of New Zealand, portray them as a dark-skinned folk of inferior culture. They had bushy heads of hair, flat faces, side glancing eyes, flat noses and spreading nostrils; “the nostrils seemed to be all the nose they had,” states one account. They were of spare build, and were an indolent, shiftless, chilly folk who complained of the coldness of the climate. They were found in occupation of the more northern parts of the North Island only, from Taranaki and the Bay of Plenty northward. None had settled in the South Island. If these were not a Melanesian folk, then they must have possessed strong Melanesian characteristics. A tradition among them explains that they were the descendants of the occupants of three drift canoes that had been carried from their home land by a westerly gale. All these particulars tend to support the conclusions of Dr. Scott. It may also be mentioned that a number of early voyagers and sojourners in this land mention the Melanesian element so strongly in evidence here. Another item of evidence, and withal a curious one, concerns an old native custom. Missionary Yates and other early writers have told us that the Maori mothers were in the habit of flattening the noses of their infants by means of pressure. This peculiar custom would not have originated among the purer, straight-nosed Polynesians; one can but think that it dates back to the flat-nosed aboriginal women who were taken to wife by the early Polynesian settlers on these shores.
It is quite possible that a certain amount of mixture with Melanesians has taken place here in later times. In the Bay of Plenty district a tradition has been preserved to the effect that, about four hundred years ago, a canoe made the land at Whakatane, having come from over sea. Probably it was a drift voyage, but the interesting part is that the newcomers are said to have been black men. They settled among the Awa folk at Meheu, or Omeheu, on the Rangitaiki River.
Yet another interesting subject on which much might be said is the fact that, among our Maori folk exist certain arts, customs, institutions and artifacts that are unknown in Poly-
Among the black-haired natives of New Zealand a fair-skinned type with reddish hair of a wavy nature is extremely persistent, though it may miss a generation in a family. Such folk are not, however, numerous, though the strain is said to have come from Eastern Polynesia many generations ago. True albinism was but rarely seen here.
In stature the Maori is, as a rule, above the average of our own folk, and has a bulkier body and bigger limbs. His legs are shorter in proportion to the body than those of Europeans, and possibly this renders his favourite cross-legged mode of sitting an easy one to him; it is most irksome to us. This difference in bodily form was most noticeable when a body of five hundred native troops marched through Wellington streets when en route to the far-off battlefields of Europe. Obesity is now common among natives, but seems to have been seldom noticed by early writers. It is attributed to a much less strenuous life than that of former times, and to the universal diet of potatoes. Yet there must presumably be something in the way of predisposition to such a condition. As a rule the limbs of a native are much rounder than those of Europeans.
The true Polynesian hair is black, and waved, not straight and lank. This is common among our Maori folk, but the occurrence of frizzy and bushy heads of hair betoken the Melanesian admixture.
Natives make excellent helpers for such work as is done by survey parties in rough country. Their initiative and ingenuity render them valuable in such rough work. In former times there agility was remarkable, as, for instance, in the hand to hand fighting they practised. This was the result of almost constant exercise of such powers, of a system of training that
One true Polynesian feature the Maori has preserved in his brown eyes. A fine, straight form of nose is seen in conjunction with comparatively thin lips, but often these features are coarse, and seem to show a Melanesian strain. As observed, his teeth are remarkable, being large, white and regular; an expert has stated that the Maori has the finest teeth of any existing race. Apparently these natives suffered from few diseases in pre-European times, but introduced epidemic complaints, such as measles, swept off many thousands of them in the early years of the 19th century. The simple life and fare, combined with highly necessary industry, would tend to keep them in robust health. The conditions of life, however, would scarcely tend to the survival of the unfit, which would assuredly be an excellent thing for the community. Apart from the toll exacted by intertribal wars the fit survivors might be termed a long-lived people; some remarkable cases of longevity have been recorded.
Owing to his mode of life the Maori possessed keen powers of sight and hearing; both of which he needed to exercise in connection with the task of gaining his daily food. Offensive odours do not appear to be so repulsive to them as they are to us, and their sense of taste is also different to ours. They ate certain foods that would repel us, on account of both smell and taste. The most revolting illustration of this was the practice of kai pirau, the eating of partially decomposed human flesh. This was by no means a common custom, but it certainly was occasionally done.
Our Maori folk are of a cheerful disposition, much given to merriment in youth, keen appreciators of quips and cranks, though a sense of dignity comes with advancing age. The higher class folk are distinguished in many cases by dignified behaviour (save when enraged) and by punctiliousness. They are extremely sensitive, and very susceptive to ridicule; this
In dealing with Maori mentality we touch upon an extremely interesting subject. Its most interesting aspect is that of the mythopoetic faculty that is so much in evidence in his mythology and religion. His genius for personification, his love for allegorical myths and metaphysical abstractions, are among his most interesting characteristics. In these mental activities he was not excelled by the Greeks of antiquity, and was far before the peoples of northern Europe. The powers of reflection, of introspective thought and ideality, shown in many of his conceptions, are truly remarkable, and furnish most admirable evidences as to the advantages of a study of Cultural Anthropology. For in these concepts we see myth and religion in the making, while much light is thrown upon the origin of both. They show us that a long study of natural phenomena, a close contact with the old Earth Mother, combined with the mythopoetic faculty and power of abstract thought, led the Maori to the conception of a Supreme Being of remarkable attributes. In no case of barbaric culture have we better evidence of the effect of Nature upon human mentality.
It will now be clear that the Maori is mentally acute and possesses keen powers of comprehension. His intelligence is of a high order, his outlook on life and its activities is clear and is marked by common-sense—until his superstition is awakened, and then anything may happen. His powers of memory often appear marvellous to us; they are the result of the lack of any form of script, and a strong desire to preserve
hapu (sub-tribe) for many generations, bringing down each branch so as to include all living members. This feat necessitated the memorising and recital of over 1400 personal names, and much data concerning tribal history was also given by this man.
Quickness in learning is a marked native characteristic. Their initiative powers enable them to quickly learn the use of our tools, though a lack of continued application is often a prominent weakness. Native children are more amenable at school than are our own, a singular fact when we remember the lack of true home life and training of the young in native villages. Many of the weaknesses or backward phases of Maori character in civilised life are, of course, the result of the communistic life he has lived so long. On the other hand his universal hospitality is also a heritage from that mode of life, though therein it possessed not the spirit and meaning that it does to us.
Courageous daring, initiative, and self-confidence have been very prominent qualities of Polynesian sea rovers for many centuries. The local branch of the race owes its present home to those qualities, and inherited them from the hardy explorers and colonisers who settled innumerable isles from Easter Island to the far Caroline Group, from Hawaii to New Zealand.
As to courage in war, this quality cannot be viewed from the same point of view as among more highly civilised peoples. The reason of this is that superstition stepped in and claimed its own. Thus an individual, or a whole clan, might decline to take part in an engagement on account of some evil omen, and such action would be approved of. The Maori performed many acts of cruelty in war time, but magnanimous actions are also recorded in tradition. As a rule slaves taken in war were well treated, but might be slain by their owner if he wished to make a human sacrifice, or to add a much appreciated dish to a feast.
As a rule a native community lived in harmony in the hamlet, but quarrels might cause a noisy and boisterous scene when some cause of dissension arose. Idlers were almost unknown, for all engaged in the industrial activities of the community.
The mentality of the Maori will receive illustration when we come to deal with his myths and religious beliefs. With regard to his artistic sense, we note that the decorative art of the Maori differs widely from that of his brethren in Polynesia. The former is essentially curvilinear, while that of Polynesia is emphatically rectilinear. The only way in which the writer can account for this startling contrast is to assume that the incoming Polynesians adopted the artistic designs of earlier inhabitants of Melanesian affinities. In seeking analogies in this line, we find them in Melanesia, e.g., in New Guinea, but not in Polynesia. This applies especially to painted designs. The graceful designs seen in certain painted house decorations of the Maori are extremely interesting as the work of an isolated barbaric folk. They show how he carried his appreciation of rhythm even into that art, and satisfied his desire for harmonious finish. Although his execution in wood carving was purposely grotesque when representing the human figure, yet the fine work on small boxes, and on implements, was remarkably neat and precise. Some of the fine work executed with stone tools is a marvellous illustration of neat workmanship. The love of decoration was highly developed, and this led to the carving of ornamental designs on many implements, notably weapons, and even on rude agricultural tools.
The language of the Maori of New Zealand is a dialect of the far-spread Polynesian tongue that is spoken over so great an area of the Pacific. Nor is that language confined to Polynesia proper, inasmuch as it is retained by many Polynesian colonies in Melanesia and Micronesia. Owing to long isolation of many of these units a number of differing dialects have come into existence, some of which have been affected by foreign tongues, such as Melanesian and Micronesian.
We have in Maori fifteen sounds to deal with, the consonants being h, k, m, n, p, r, t, w, with the nasal sound
ng, and the aspirated w written wh. Of these the t is a dental sound differing from the English t, the r is sounded softly, and the sound of n differs somewhat from that of ours. No two consonants ever come together, the ng and wh being, of course, improvised symbols. As to vowel sounds, a is always sounded as the a in “father,” though it may be long or short. E is pronounced as is the initial e in “enter,” never as a in late, mate, etc. I has the sound of double e, as in “asleep”; it is the i in agitate. O is pronounced as in English, and u as double o in spoon. All vowels have both long and short sounds, and a recognition of vowel quantities is extremely important when conversing with natives. The following illustration will serve to make this point clear. The word kaka has four different aspects, each having its own meaning, or meanings:—
Kākā. Name of a bird; the brown parrot.
Kăkă. Garment. 2 Fibre. 3 Ridge, etc.
Kākă. A bird, the bittern. 2 Affected by
tutu poison.Kăkā. Red hot.
It is here plainly seen that an error made in enunciating vowel lengths might have a serious effect on the meaning of a passage. Careless or dull-eared Europeans confuse the vowels e and i, thus the writer has heard a Maori-speaking English-man tell a native audience that he did not desire to see native deafness abolished, when he realy meant native usages and social rules, the two words being turi and ture.
Europeans have some difficulty in correctly pronouncing the nasal sound; it resembles the ng in ringer. The difficulty is principally apparent when the ng occurs at the beginning of a word. Inasmuch as all syllables are open, the impression gained of the tongue is one of softness. It is euphonious and possesses a copious vocabulary, when we remember that the Maori occupied the barbaric culture plane. Although terms denoting abstractions are not numerous, yet the language lends itself to the mythopoetic imagery that is so marked a characteristic of Maori mentality. It abounds in metaphorical expressions, and old narratives teem with aphorisms, similes, personifications and allegories. The Maori is a very fluent
Entry of Polynesians into the Pacific—Question of prior inhabitants in Polynesian area—Drift voyages—Homeland of Polynesians—Migration therefrom—Polynesian communities in Melanesia—Exploration and settlement of Polynesia—Courageous neolithic voyagers—Vessels of the voyagers—Canoe 83 feet in length—Tongan voyagers—Double canoes—Sails—Long voyages—Rate of sailing—Navigation by stars, etc.—Voyagers carried symbols of gods—Sea stores—Ocean currents—Lack of compass or other aid to navigation—Starting places—Polynesian voyagers encounter ice—Quiros at fault—The peopling of New Zealand—Voyage of
In discussing the feats of the Maori as a deep-sea voyager in past centuries we are dealing with one of the most interesting subjects connected with the far-spread Polynesian race. When the ancestors of our native folk were making such voyages, they were not dwellers in these isles, but in those of Polynesia. Those who settled in New Zealand seldom returned to the ara moana, or sea roads, and eventually all communication with Polynesia ceased.
The Polynesians are comparatively late arrivals in the Pacific area. Several authorities have stated their belief that they entered this region early in the Christian era, though the evidence brought forward is not, perhaps, convincing. The question of such arrival will probably remain unsettled. With regard to former inhabitants of the Polynesian region it seems to be generally believed that the isles of that area were uninhabited by man prior to their occupation by the fair-skinned Polynesian folk. It seems improbable, however, that the many isles of that region were without human inhabitants
prau having made many voyages of considerable length across the Pacific. These records extend backward to the 17th century. We know of Japanese vessels having been swept by the Black Current right across the Pacific to the coast of North America.
Tradition tells us that New Zealand was first settled by castaways who had been swept away from their homeland by a westerly storm. A great number of such traditions are extant throughout Polynesia, and in a number of cases these records are supported by other evidence. How is it possible that the isles of Polynesia can have remained uninhabited down to so late a period as the commencement of the Christian era, or a few centuries later, as some writers place it.
The Maori of New Zealand tells us that his ancestors, when settling here, found a prior people in occupation, a non-Polynesian folk, to judge by the description of them preserved in tradition. In far Easter Island we are told that the great stone images and strange, unknown script incised on tablets of wood, were the work of a former people, a strange “long-eared” folk. In other isles we hear of the Manahune, a people of whom little but the name has been preserved. Professor
Maori traditions tell us that their ancestors, in remote times, dwelt in a land away to the westward, a land named Uru. From this land they migrated eastward to a hot climate country named Irihia, to which the name of Hawaiki is sometimes applied. Now an old Sanscrit name for India was Vrihia, which a Maori could pronounce only as Irihia or Wirihia. Was it the shores of India that the old sea rovers
In that land of Irihia the forbears of the Polynesians seem to have suffered many tribulations. They appear to have had many enemies, unpleasing black-skinned folk of various degrees of culture, some of them leading a rude, primitive mode of life. Fierce and continued wars led the future Polynesians to leave the land of Irihia and seek a new home across the ocean. We are told that they steered to the eastward, ever making for the rising sun, and that a voyage of eleven days brought them to a land called (in Maori tradition) Tawhiti-roa. The length of their sojourn here is not known, but eventually they again took to the ocean, and sailed eastward to the land of Tawhiti-nui. On their arrival on the shores of that land they went up a river, the mouth of which faced the south-west, and settled on its banks, where they lived in artificial caves hewn out of the face of a cliff. They feared the inhabitants of that place, and evidently were not themselves numerically strong. When they increased in numbers they occupied fortified villages above ground. We are told that Tawhiti-nui was an extensive land possessing a hot climate.
Again the length of the sojourn in this land is unknown. We are simply told that, in the time of Ira-panga, these folk, or some of them, once more followed the sea roads, and that six vessels reached the isle of Ahu. Such, we are told, was the origin of the Polynesian inhabitants of the isles Ahu, Maui, and Hawaiki. These are thought to be the islands Ahu (erroneously written Oahu), Maui and Hawaii of the Hawaiian or Sandwich Group. That division of the race has dropped the letter k from its dialect, though, curiously enough, it has replaced the t by k.
In the account of the voyages here briefly described, tradition has it that sea anchors and a kind of awning for the longboats were used during stormy weather. Also that they were steered by means of relying on the heavenly bodies, on wind and wave. The use of the outrigger is also mentioned, and one account seems to denote that the double outrigger was in use.
This eastward movement of ancestors of the Polynesians into the Pacific area was probably one of several such sea migrations. The natives of the Cook Group have preserved highly interesting traditions concerning the homeland of the race, and of many long voyages in the Pacific made by their ancestors. The Marquesas natives have also preserved similar records. The Polynesian colonies still existing far within Melanesia and Micronesia may have been formed during the eastward movement of long past times. We also know of drift voyages to Melanesia as late occurrences, also that Tongan raiders have sailed as far westward as New Caledonia and the Solomon Isles.
Having reached what we now term the Polynesian area, the ancestors of our Maori folk probably led a comparatively quiet life for some time, so far as sea voyages were concerned. But as they increased in numbers they would take once more to the restless sea life of their forbears. It is clear that, for a lengthy period, the Polynesians were the most daring and successful neolithic voyagers of whom we have any record. There were three distinct causes that led to these sea rovings, and the settling and re-settling of many isles of the Pacific. These movements were: 1. Voyages of exploration; 2. Voyages of necessity; and 3. Drift voyages. The voyages of necessity were caused by over-population, intertribal wars, or banishment for crimes committed. There is much proof to show that the courageous ocean wanderers of yore undertook long voyages out of pure love of adventure. There is also plentiful evidence that innumerable drift voyages have taken place, and indeed still occur. As an illustraion of this last fact I may quote from United Empire, the Royal Colonial Institute Journal of September, 1918, the following data:—Two native boys, 17 or 18 years of age, drifted in a boat from Tarawa, in the Gilbert Group, for 90 days some 1300 miles, ere they made a landing on one of the Caroline Isles. These data are corroborated by officials. During that time they caught water in a bucket, but their only food consisted of six birds that they contrived to catch. They also caught a small shark but could not swallow its flesh. Japanese officials of the Carolines assisted them to return to Tarawa.
The field of operations of the Polynesian navigators, the Maori voyagers, was a vast area of some 4,500 miles in extent. Over this great expanse the brown-skinned sea kings followed the rolling sea roads; the Hine-moana, the Ocean Maid. Personified form of the Ocean in Maori myth.ara moana laid down by their bold forbears when they broke into the realm of Tahora-nui-atea in days of yore. With no knowledge of metals, ignorant of the compass, and of the shipbuilding art, they manned their rude top-straked dugouts and carvel built long boats, lashed together with sinnet. They hoisted their lateen sails, or the weird-looking ra kautu, and sailed out on far-spread sears in search of adventure, or a new home. They placated their gods and the monsters of the deep; they feared not the wrath of Hine-moana
The rude vessels employed by the Polynesians in their ocean wanderings were óf two types, the outrigger and the double canoe. The single canoe, lacking an outrigger, used by the Maori of New Zealand, seems to have been a local production; it could scarcely have been employed in deep-sea voyages. Its origin probably lies in the fact that these isles furnished larger trees for canoe making than did the isles of Polynesia. Thus the hull of a vessel could be made much wider in New Zealand than in other isles. The so-called canoes were here made with greater beam, and in time the outrigger was abandoned in most cases. Tasman appears to have seen only double canoes here in 1642, but in 1769–70 Cook found the single canoe, minus the outrigger, the common vessel on the shores of the North Island. Outriggers and double canoes seem, however, to have been more numerous in the South Island in his time. A few double canoes were seen in South Island waters by early whalers and others in the first three decades of last century.
The big double canoes used by the Tongans and Fijians carried big lateen sails, and some of these vessels were over a hundred feet in length. A similar vessel was used in the Society, Paumotu, and Cook Groups, as also elsewhere-
The work of constructing these rude vessels was effected by the use of stone tools, and yet we are told by observers that remarkably neat work was done. In some isles but ill provided with timber, canoes were built up on small hulls by lashing together short planks but a few feet in length, the joints of which were marvels of precision and neatness.
The vessels that reached New Zealand from Polynesia were of both types, single canoes fitted with an outrigger, and double canoes, in which the second hull served the purpose of an outrigger. Probably the outrigger type was most frequently used in these voyages, as they are most manageable at sea during stormy weather. The traditional account of the voyage of Nuku from eastern Polynesia in New Zealand and back, tells us that he crossed the ocean to these shores with two double canoes and one outrigger vessel. On his return to Polynesia he dismantled his double canoes and converted them into outrigger craft to enable him to make a quicker passage. Traditionary and other evidence shows that those neolithic voyagers who sailed over the 2,000 miles of ocean from the Society Group to New Zealand not infrequently recrossed it and returned to their far-off homes.
In the Auckland Museum is a fine specimen of the old-time Maori canoe. It is 83 feet in length, and has a width of seven feet. The hull is of one piece, with a topstrake at-
The double canoe had a wide range in the Pacific region, and this type of vessel was employed by Polynesian voyagers of former times. Those of the Paumotu, Tongan, and Samoan groups were sometimes of remarkable size; we hear of some at the latter group being 150 feet in length. The big double canoes of the Fiji Isles were also of great size, and from that people the Tongans obtained many of their deep-sea vessels. The Melanesian folk of Fiji were not deep ocean voyagers, however, they had not the confident, daring disposition of the Polynesian. When European peoples became acquainted with the South Seas, the Tongans were the most active deep sea voyagers of Polynesia. They were in the habit of making expeditions to the New Hebrides, and also reached Tikopia, New Caledonia and other isles far within the bounds of Melanesia.
Double canoes of New Zealand seem to have been of two types, the waka hourua, consisting of two canoes close together, and the mahanga, in which the two vessels were about thirty inches apart. In both cases crossbeams and strong lashings were employed to keep them in position. When two single canoes were temporarily converted into a double canoe, it was termed a taurua. Such craft were used when an unusually large net was employed in sea fishing.
Not only were deep sea vessels furnished with masts and sails, two masts in many cases, but also coastwise craft were provided with a mast and sail. These were seen by early visitors to New Zealand. The only Maori canoe sail that has been preserved is one in the British Museum. It is of the ordinary triangular form, and was hoisted with its wide end, the base of the triangle, uppermost. This is the ra kautu.
(ra kaupaparu) was also used here in former times.
Some of the voyages undertaken by old-time Polynesian voyagers were of surprising length. That from the Society Isles to New Zealand, over 2,000 miles, was made many times, and a number of sea rovers who reached these shores made the return voyage to Polynesia. These voyages were no haphazard rovings, these neolithic seafarers knew the ara moana, or sea roads, and knew how to reach their objective. On the run down from Tahiti to New Zealand, they had one resting place, Rarotonga, in the Cook Group, and occasionally a vessel sighted and sojourned a while at Rangitahua, Sunday Island, of the Kermadecs. The run from Rarotonga to New Zealand, of about 1,600 miles, would probably be made in about a fortnight, and this voyage was made many times by a people ignorant alike of the compass and of charts.
So accustomed did the old Polynesian voyagers become to their well-trodden sea roads that they knew the best time for starting on any particular voyage, so as to have favourable winds. Thus the trip down to New Zealand from Rarotonga was made in December, and the return voyage in July. pahi, or deep sea vessels, could beat to windward nearly as well as a modern schooner. All these Polynesian craft possessed also the advantages of a secondary mode of propulsion in the paddle. Against a contrary wind, or in a calm, the paddle was a great help, and the Polynesians are past masters in its use. The big-bladed steering oars used did much to prevent side drift, and from two to eight of such oars were employed. These acted as lee boards.
In long voyages star-reading experts were carried, and these men were on duty during the watches of the night. Not only did Polynesian navigators steer by the stars, they also studied them closely in connection with weather conditions. You cannot convince a Maori that the stars do not foretell weather conditions and the aspect of seasons. Only experts were taken on such voyages, men who knew exactly what to do in all emergencies, the kaumoana or amotawa (sefaring experts) of the rolling water roads of Hine-moana. Moreover, men were told off to various duties, though all were hardened wielders of the paddle when required for such services. Thus we are told that men were told off to attend to steering, others to tend the sails, yet others to baling the vessel, and so on. When foul weather was encountered, and the cry of “Runaia te waka” (secure the vessel) rang out, then the trained neolithic sea masters leaped to the footboards and made all snug for the coming crisis. Were it a squall to be met, they attended to the splashboards, erected the side stanchions and crosspieces, drew taut and lashed down the awning, swung out extra steer oars, turned the vessel head on to the coming squall, lowered the stone anchors at stem and stern to steady her, and then, trusting to their gods, they awaited the wrath of the Ocean Maid—the storm at sea.
The Polynesians assuredly relied much on the regular trade winds in their wanderings, and when the sky was obscured they still had the regular roll of the waves before such winds to guide them. The one great danger was a change of wind while the sky was obscured, for then the compassless sea rover was helpless. He might persist in following the run of the waves, possibly believing he was still on his course. Could the story of drift voyages in the Pacific be written, of a verity it would be of surpassing interest, as can be judged from a number that have been recorded.
A peculiarity of Polynesian voyagers was that they often carried their gods with them, that is, the symbols of such gods. These would be in charge of a priestly expert, and were believed to have a very important influence in regard to the success of the voyage. Any vessel carrying such symbols would be extremely tapu, and this would mean that great care had to be taken not to pollute such tapu. Such a misde-
Taro, prepared breadfruit and sun-dried kumara (sweet potatoes) are also mentioned as sea stores.
We must bear in mind that ocean currents were studied by the Polynesians, who employed a kind of stone sea anchor, styled a mahe, in order to detect such currents. These “rivers of the ocean” have played a very important part in the peopling and ceaseless re-peopling of the isles of Polynesia. Ocean currents and drift voyages are closely allied to such movements of peoples. We know that the famous Black River has been responsible for many drift voyages made by Japanese vessels across the Pacific to the western shores of North America. This sort of thing must have been going on for many centuries. Such influences as Humboldt's Current, Mentor's Drift, the South Equatorial Current, Rossell's Drift, etc., with their back swirls and branch streams, must have been important factors in the distribution and re-distribution of the Polynesian race.
It must be remembered that the pahi, or deep ocean vessels of the Polynesians, were superior to any craft seen in that region at the present times. The big double canoes were fitted for the making of long voyages. Maori tradition speaks of vessels with three masts as having been employed in deep sea voyages. Some writers have declined to believe that the ancestors of the Maori ever reached New Zealand by water, or that the Polynesians were capable of making long voyages. They apparently ignore well-known facts, those of a common language throughout the Polynesian area, of common traditions, names of gods, implements, and many other things. Wild theories of a sunken continent are aired, but if such
pahi were by no means frail vessels; they traversed great stretches of open sea, and withstood the buffetings of fate from Easter Island westward to New Caledonia, from the Sandwich Islands southward to New Zealand. The 18ft. ship's boat in which Bligh made his voyage of about 4,000 miles from Tonga to Timor in forty days was assuredly not superior to the pahi of Polynesia.
An interesting feature of the methods followed by the old Polynesian sea rovers was that of starting points. In commencing a voyage they always started from a certain place, and laid the vessel on her marks, just as the Maori fisherman located his fishing grounds at sea by lining objects on shore. Thus it was learned many years ago that voyagers leaving these isles for Polynesia started from Whanga-te-au, Mangawhai, or Au-kanapanapa, all of which are places on the east coast of the North Auckland district. An old native of the Nga Rauru tribe made the following statement:—“The men of old possessed much knowledge of ocean navigation. They were well acquainted with the prevailing winds of different seasons of the year, and also with the stars visible in each month. When sailing from New Zealand for Hawaiki (the isles of Polynesia), they always started from certain places in the north. One such starting point was Whanga-te-au, while another was Whangarei.” On one of the Sandwich Islands is a place named “the route to Tahiti,” from which place the voyagers of long past centuries started on their voyage of 2,380 miles to Tahiti, of the Society Group. Kamakau, a learned native of the Sandwich Isles, wrote as follows:—“If you sail for Kahiki (Tahiti) you will discover new constellations and strange stars over the deep ocean. When you arrive at the Piko o Wakea (Pito o Watea—the Navel of Space—the Equator) you will lose sight of Hokupaa (the North Star), and then Newe will be the southern
John Williams, of Polynesian fame, tells us, concerning these starting places: “At these places they have certain land marks by which they steer until the stars become visible, and they generally contrive to set sail so as to get sight of their heavenly guides by the time their land marks disappear.” A former British Resident at Rarotonga, Colonel Gudgeon, furnishes similar evidence, and in Beechey's Voyage appears yet another clear statement on the subject.
Many of the old-time voyages made by Polynesians were by no means over such wide stretches of open sea as had to be crossed between Tahiti and New Zealand, and Tahiti and the Sandwich or Hawaiian Isles. Yet voyages made from isle to isle, calling at many refreshment places, might be much longer than either of the above. Thus, in one voyage made by one Uenga, a famous sea rover of about the 12th century, that neolithic seaman started from Savaii, in the Samoan Group, and sailed to Tonga (480 miles S.S.E.), thence to Vavau (150 miles N.N.E.). On leaving the latter place he was carried away by stormy weather to some isle not named, whence he sailed to Tongareva (900 miles N.E. of Savaii), then to Rimatara (780 miles S.S.E.), thence to Rurutu (70 miles E.N.E.), thence to Tubuai (120 miles S.E.), thence to Fakaau or Greig Island, in the Paumotu Group (480 miles N.N.E.). After voyaging about this far-spread archipelago he went to Tahiti, from which place he found his way back again to Savaii. And this was one of the men who possessed but “frail canoes” and could not possibly make a deep sea voyage.
Another famed old Polynesian voyager, who flourished about the seventh century, was one Hui-te-rangi-ora. He seems to have roamed over the Pacific as though it were a lake, his most remarkable voyage being one to the far south, where he encountered ice. This was evidently a new experience for the Polynesian voyager, and tradition tells us how it astonished him.
The Polynesian ancestors of our Maori folk of New Zealand colonised a great number of isles in the Pacific region. The Fiji group is the easternmost outpost of the dark-skinned
Quiros maintained the existence of a great motherland in the South Pacific: “As otherwise the islands could not have been populated without a miracle.” But Quiros knew not the powers of the Polynesian voyager, and indeed but very few modern writers have any true appreciation of those powers.
In the oral traditions of the Maori we find, as might be expected, a mixture of fact and fable, historical traditions encrusted with myth. Thus we are told of wondrous adventures met with by old-time voyagers, of strange lands and strange people seen by them. How some reached lands where fire was unknown, and the people ate their food raw. Of communities where natural birth was unknown, and where all children were brought into the world by means of the Cæsarian operation. Of strange folk who dwelt in trees, and of terrible monsters encountered in far lands.
Among our local Maori folk a curious tale is told to account for the Aurora australis. We are gravely informed that some of the old voyagers who came to New Zealand continued their voyage and sailed far southward. Some of them remained there in a very cold region, and, ever and anon, their descendants kindle huge fires in order to acquaint the Maori of New Zealand with the fact that they are still there, and are in want of assistance.
The story of the discovery and settlement of these isles by members of the Polynesian race is a story of much interest. That of the North Island by drift voyagers from the western Pacific also contains a lesson. Both of the settlements were the outcome of drift voyages, one directly so, the other indirectly. A westerly wind that swept through Melanesia brought hither the first settlers of our North Island. A wind that swept westward from the region of South America was the indirect cause of the coming of the first Polynesian settlers to these shores.
Forty generations ago, that is to say about the year 900 A.D., two Polynesian deep sea navigators, named
The vessels of He ao! He ao!” (A cloud! A cloud!), and so New Zealand gained its first name of Aotea (White Cloud), afterwards lengthened to Aotea-roa, presumably on account of its size. Coming from the small islands of Polynesia the explorers would be impressed by the size of these isles.
Having sojourned a while in the far north, our neolithic explorers ran down the east coast of the North Island, landing at various places, until they reached what is now known as Wellington Harbour. We credit Captain
The seafarers remained some time in this harbour and its vicinity, and then continued their exploration. They examined Cook Straits, entered Porirua Harbour, and then sailed down the west coast of the South Island. At Arahura they are said to have discovered float pieces of greenstone (nephrite) in the river bed, a discovery that was of great importance to the Maori of later generations. They are also said to have slain a moa (Dinornis) at that place, for that huge
At some time subsequent to the departure of the above-mentioned voyagers, a strange, unknown people formed the first permanent settlement in New Zealand. Their origin is unknown, and Maori tradition tells us that they were a people of inferior culture, which means inferior to Polynesian culture. Their own account of their origin, as related to the later coming Maori, is that their ancestors arrived here in three canoes, named Kahutara, Taikoria and Okoki. These vessels had been swept away from their homeland by a westerly storm during a fishing excursion, and, after drifting far across the ocean, had made their landfall on the north Taranaki coast, on the west coast of the North Island. They called their homeland Horanui-a-tau and Haupapa-nui-a-tau, both of which names are unknown to us. It is almost certain that there must have been a southerly as well as an easterly drift. The natives of Tasmania and Australia constructed no vessels that would stand the passage of the Tasman Sea, and the description of these early settlers seems to point to the New Hebrides as a probable homeland. That land was described as possessing a hot climate, much warmer than that of New Zealand.
Maori tradition tells us that these original settlers did not preserve accurate knowledge of their descent as do Polynesians, and that they were an idle and shiftless folk. They constructed no good houses, but merely shed-like structures, though they were a very chilly people, fond of hugging the fireside. In winter they wore capes made from the fibrous leaves of Phormium, Cordyline and Freycinetia (harakeke,
toi, and kiekie), but in summer merely some leaves as a form of girdle or apron. The later-coming Polynesian Maori called these people Pakiwhara, a name that appears to denote folk of a low culture stage, a rude people of a primitive mode of life. In the legend of Rata, an old-time Polynesian voyager, it is applied to people who were probably Melanesians. They are often alluded to by the Maori as Maruiwi, which, however, seems to have been merely the name of one of their prominent chiefs at the time of the arrival of the first Polynesian settlers. In later days Maruiwi came into use as the name of a tribe, and the Tini-o-Maruiwi was, apparently, one of the last tribes of that folk to disappear as a tribal unit, an occurrence that took place about eleven generations ago. One native authority tells us that they were known as Mouriuri, but it is doubtful if they had a racial name for themselves when the Polynesian immigrants arrived here. In like manner the latter folk do not seem to have applied any racial name to themselves. The term Maori, so employed, appears to be a modern usage; it is not mentioned by any of the earlier writers on New Zealand. As a word of vernacular speech it means “native, indigenous, ordinary, common.”
The Maori tells us that these Mouriuri were tall, spare, thin-shanked folk, with flat noses and widespread nostrils, flat faces and overhanging or prominent eyebrows. Some had bushy, fuzzy hair, some had straight hair; they were big-boned and had very restless eyes, also were they an indolent and treacherous folk.
According to Maori tradition these Mouriuri people were of a low culture stage, but these accounts may possibly be exaggerated. Inasmuch as they must have possessed the art of constructing vessels capable of a long deep sea voyage, and are said to have lived in fortified villages at Taranaki, they can scarcely have occupied the low plane assigned to them in Maori tradition. They are said to have lived in fortified places named Okoki, Pohokura, etc., at Urenui. These are fortified hills showing terraced slopes and scarps, formerly surmounted by defensive stockades; a few ramparts and fosses are also in evidence. As these places were occupied by the later-coming Polynesian Maori down to the time of the arrival of Europeans in the country, we do not know what the original
pa, or fortified villages, were not a Polynesian institution, but they were well known to the Melanesian folk of Fiji, certain tribes of whom lived in similar hill forts. This evidence is in favour of a Fijian origin of the Mouriuri. They appear to have spoken a tongue closely resembling Maori, to judge from certain proper names preserved in tradition, though the evidence is not, perhaps, very satisfactory. The dialect spoken by the Moriori or Maioriori natives of the Catham Isles, who are believed to be descendants of Mouriuri refugees from New Zealand, is said to resemble eastern Polynesian speech more closely than the Maori of New Zealand. There are a number of usages, arts, implements, etc., noted among the Maori of New Zealand that cannot be traced to Polynesia, and it seems probable that these were acquired from the earliest inhabitants of these isles. For instance, take the case of decorative art, painted designs, wood carving, tattooing, etc. We know that such art in Polynesia is essentially rectilinear, while in New Zealand it is curvilinear. The only exceptions to this rule are processes wherein the Maori was unable to produce the curved line, as in weaving and the plaiting of mats and baskets. This looks as though the incoming Polynesians had borrowed certain arts, etc., from another people, presumably the Mouriuri aborigines. Again, such curvilinear designs are found in New Guinea, and many non-Polynesian usages, etc., encountered in New Zealand can be traced to the western Pacific. It looks as though the Mouriuir folk were immigrants from that region, a surmise which is supported by the tradition of the easterly drift voyage.
The early inhabitants of New Zealand gradually increased in numbers until they occupied a large area of the North Island. On the west coast their settlements are said to have extended as far south as the Wai-ngongoro river, and on the eastern side of the island they dwelt as far south as Whangaparaca. They are said to have been numerous in the Tamaki district, the Auckland isthmus, but we are not told as to whether or not they lived in fortified villages there. It is possible that they did do so, but inasmuch as they are said to have possessed no cultivated food products, they could not have formed a dense population at any place. The extensive
Having seen the gradual spread of the Mouriuri people in the North Island, we will now pass on to the coming of the first Polynesian settlers. The period during which the Mouriuri were the sole occupiers of New Zealand can scarcely have been less than two hundred years, and it may have been more.
Some twenty-eight or nine generations ago a gale of wind from somewhere off the west coast of South America swept westward through Polynesia as far as the Samoan Group. That gale it was that brought about the occupation of New Zealand by Polynesians, and here is the story thereof:—
A canoe race was being held on the placid waters of the lagoon of Pikopiko-i-whiti, off the island of Hawaiki, and we may identify that isle as Tahiti of the Society Group, of which it was an ancient name. It was resolved that one race be held out on the open sea, hence the competing vessels passed out through the opening in the reef. While the contest was being conducted an easterly gale, an offshore wind, struck the fleet and rendered return to land impossible. Thus a number of vessels were driven far across the ocean and became seperated during the drift. Such occurrences have been very numerous in Polynesian history.
As time passed away much anxiety was felt as to the fate of the ocean waifs, and thus it was that Toi, the grandfather of Whatonga, one of the lost ones, resolved to sail in search of them. He manned his vessel, named Te Paepae-ki-Rarotonga, and sailed across the Sea of Marama in quest of his grandson. On his reaching Pangopango, in the Samoan Group, he found some of the castaways at that place, but not his young relative. Toi then continued his search and visited a number of isles, but still his quest was a fruitless one so far as his grandson was concerned. At length he reached Rarotonga, in the Cook Group, and, finding there no trace or word of Whatonga or his vessel, he resolved to visit the far land of
The voyage of Toi was a remarkable one, inasmuch as he missed his objective, keeping too far to the eastward, but he discovered the Chatham Isles, which lie about 400 miles to the east of New Zealand. The sturdy old voyager did not, however, abandon his quest, and eventually he made his land-fall on the eastern side of the northern part of the North Island. He landed at Tamaki, where the town of Auckland now is, where he sojourned some time among the Mouriuri folk. His long search for Whatonga had been fruitless, and the sea-weary old Viking eventually settled at Whakatane. Here local natives point out the earthern ramparts of an oldtime fort named Ka-pu-te-rangi, and maintain that it was the abiding place of Toi, surnamed Kai-rakau, he who had sailed wide seas in search of his grandson. Situated on the summit of a high cliff above the modern township, and the spot where Matatua ended her long voyage from eastern Polynesia in later times, the old rover's last home was a picturesque one. One can imagine the sea-worn old wanderer gazing eastward from the bluff across the vast, empty ocean, thinking of his lost grandson, and of his old home two thousand miles away. Doubtless he did not feel equal to making another arduous voyage across the great southern ocean, and so resigned himself to exile among a strange, unpleasing people.
Meanwhile events were occuring in eastern Polynesia that were to bring further immigrant settlers to Aotearoa. The vessel of Whatonga had drifted to the island of Rangiatea, presumably the isle of Ra'iatea of the Society Group, for the dialect of that group has, we know, lost the k and nasal ng since the ancestors of our Maori folk left those parts.
When Whatonga and his companions were cast away on this isle, they narrowly escaped being slain, but were afterwards well treated, and lived for some time among their hosts. Eventually, however, they made their way home again, when Whatonga learned that Toi was still absent in search of him. Hence he resolved to go forth to seek Toi, a task of no light nature among the many isles of Polynesia. This incident serves to illustrate the familiarity of the Polynesians of that period with sea-faring, and the confidence with which they traversed the sea roads to distant objectives. This story of Toi and Whatonga is here much abbreviated; in its entirety it forms an extremely interesting narrative. One incident in the homeward voyage of Whatonga and his companions from Rangiatea shows us that Polynesians of that era employed the quipu or knotted cord system of mnemonics. Indeed, they were something more than an aid to memory, inasmuch as it is distinctly stated that messages were sent to a distance by that medium. Certain arrangements of knots represented words or phrases, hence the method was a symbolic one, and the medium employed resembled ideograms to some extent.
Whatonga now sought a vessel suitable for a long deep sea voyage, and obtained one named Te Hawai from a man named Turangi. This was a vessel of three haumi, that is to say, the dug-out hull was composed of four pieces; it had twenty-six thwarts, two baling wells, and two anchors. This vessel was renamed Kurahaupo, and the origin of this name illustrates the growth of mythical accretions around the historical traditions of barbaric man. When the vessel that brought Whatonga and his crew home from Rangiatea left that isle the chief thereof called out: “O Tonga! When the prow of your vessel meets the homeland, send me, I urge you, two tokens by which I shall know that you have safely arrived, and let those tokens be the kura hau awatea and the kura hau po.” Whatonga made no verbal reply from his place in the stern of his vessel, but signified his assent by means of a gesture termed kapo. He raised his right arm and
kura hau awatea denotes a solar halo, and that of kura hau po a lunar halo, or some such phenomenon. Our Maori folk firmly believe that their high-grade priests of yore possessed the power of producing these phenomena at will, by means of their priestly or occult arts, and that they utilised them for the purpose of signalling over great distances. Such was the origin of the new name of Whatonga's vessel.
Kurahaupo was now carefully prepared for sea. Her washboards were lashed on; all her timbers were treated with vegetable gum, shark oil and ochre. Then a crew of hardy, trained deep-sea sailors was selected, men accustomed to the rolling ara moana (sea roads), inured to all dangers of the great ocean. Of paddlers were selected fifty and two, of ship's husbands four, of anchor tenders two, of sail tenders four, of steersmen two, of fire tenders two; evidently the crew was divided into watches. Thus the crew consisted of sixty-six persons, and there were several women also on board.
When all was ready the priests performed appropriate ceremonies, and chaunted over the vessel a long invocation to the gods, in order to place her under their protection. In order to render this function thoroughly effective Kurahaupo was hauled ashore and inland to a particularly tapu spot, and there, resting on that spot, she was placed in the hands of the gods. By this means a successful voyage was ensured, so long as not offence was given to those gods. And now, all being ready, Kurahaupo was hauled down to the beach and launched at grey dawn, the crew took their places on the thwarts assigned to them, Whatonga and his younger brother, Mahutonga, the priestly expert, stepped into the stern. Then, amid loud cries of farewell, and tears, and many greetings, Kurahaupo glided out upon the gleaming waters and picked up her two thousand mile course, while her brown-skinned sea kings looked upon their island home for the last time.
Our neolithic voyagers reached Rarotonga safely, and, on enquiring for Toi, were told by one Tatao that he had searched many lands and had finally sailed for Aotearoa, the land situated in far ocean spaces. Whatonga now resolved
Again we must abbreviate our story and bring the Seeker of the Searcher swiftly to these shores. Kurahaupo made her landfall near the North Cape, where her crew sojourned a while and laid in sea stores. She then ran down the west coast of the North Island and came to land again at Tongaporutu, in the northern part of the Taranaki district. Here the voyagers learned that Toi had safely reached the land of Aotearoa, and had settled at Whakatane. Whatonga now resolved to seek his old relative without delay, but some of his followers decided to remain at Tonga-porutu and dwell among the Mouriuri folk of that district. If the new-comers were able to converse with the aborigines and so to gain a knowledge of Toi, then the two peoples must have spoken tongues closely allied.
Kurahaupo now took the sea roads once more, sailed northward, rounded the North Cape, and ran down the eastern side of the island. A short stay was made at Otuako, a place that was named after a member of the crew who died there. During this sojourn at Otuako news came to hand of the arrival of Manaia, another Polynesian voyager, at Tongaporutu.
Sailing from Otuako, Whatonga reached
It is of interest to note a statement in this tradition that, at the time of the arrival of Kurahaupo, the Mouriuri folk occupied the coastal lands from the North Cape southward to Whangaparaoa, on the east coast, and Oakura on the west coast of the North Island. In later times some of them settled at Te Wairoa, on the east coast, and as far south as
Whatonga did not settle permanenetly at Whakatane, but moved to the Mahia district with his followers, and there dwelt. In his old age his two sons,
We have seen that another Polynesian voyager named Manaia came to New Zealand about the same time that Kurahaupo arrived. The story of Manaia is as follows:—Afar off in the isles of eastern Polynesia dwelt two chiefs, named Manaia and Nuku. A long story, handed down by oral tradition, tells of Manaia being insulted by Nuku, of a bitter feud and much fighting that followed. In this fighting Manaia seems to have had the weaker party, hence he resolved to leave his homeland, and, with some of his followers, migrate to Aotearoa, the far distant southern land discovered by
Nuku had no intention of allowing his enemy to escape, for he had the death of a brother to avenge. He therefore resolved to man three vessels with “sea paddling braves” and pursue the elusive Manaia. The names of his three vessels were Te Houama, Waimate, and Tangi-apakura, of which the first-named was a single canoe (waka marohi), and the other two double canoes (waka unua). The first-mentioned would doubtless be furnished with an outrigger.
Both parties touched at Rarotonga, in the Cook Group, which has ever been the point of departure for New Zealand with Polynesian voyagers. Manaia had the advantage of his enemy, but apparently was not far in advance of him when he reached this land. He came south to Cook Straits, and landed on the island of Rangitoto, or D'Urville Island.
When morning arrived it was found that exposure to the night storm had seriously impaired the fighting powers of the sea-farers, and a consultation ended in peace being made between the two parties. Manaia announced that he was resolved to settle in this land of Aotearoa, while Nuku determined to return to his far-distant island home. Ere doing so, Nuku dismantled his two double canoes, and sailed them back as single vessels. The cause of this change was that he concluded that it would expedite his passage. Manaia, after a coasting voyage to the east coast of the island, returned to the west coast and there settled. The tribes of the Taranaki district claim descent from him.
Nuku was by no means the only voyager to make the return voyage to Polynesia, and from this time onward for probably about two hundred years, many voyagers crossed and re-crossed the southern ocean. A number remained here, but others certainly returned to their far northern homes. Tama-ahua, who came with Whatonga, returned to eastern Polynesia, sailing from Taranaki, where he had dwelt at Oakura. Tumoana sailed from the northern peninsula, and Tuwhiri-rau from the east coast. Rongokako, father of Tamatea of Takitumu, returned to the Society Group. The last vessels mentioned in tradition as having left these isles for Polynesia, were those of Pahiko and Mou-te-rangi, that
kumara, or sweet potato. The original settlers here, the Mouriuri folk, possessed no cultivated food products, nor did Toi introduce any, thus it was that Toi received the surname of Kairakau (wood eater), because he and his people subsisted largely on forest products. In later centuries he has been known as Toi Kai-rakau.
We have records of a considerable number of vessels that reached New Zealand from the isles of the Pacific subsequent to the time of Toi. One vessel, commanded by Whiro, made the coast of the North Island near Oakura. Another that arrived at Whakatane about 500 years ago was manned by very dark-skinned folk, presumably Melanesians. Others, named Te Ara-tauwhaiti, Rangi-matoru, Nukutere and Oturereao, came to land in the Bay of Plenty. One, named Te Paepae ki Rarotonga, commanded by Waitaha, is said to have come to land near Matata, but another tradition gives the name as that of the vessel of Toi. A number of other such vessels are named in native tradition, such as Arai-te-uru, Mahuhu, Mamari, Te Ririno, etc., but few particulars are known concerning them. Twenty generations ago, however, a fleet of vessels arrived here from the Society Group, bringing hither a band of hardy sea-farers and warriors, whose advent had an important effect on tribal conditions in this land. The best-known vessels of this migration were named Te Arawa, Aotea, Horouta, Matatau, Tainui and Takitumu. The next chapter will give some account of the effect of the influx of Polynesian migrants, from the arrival of Toi to the coming of the fleet, the mingling of the two peoples, and the formation of the more modern Maori tribes.
Tribal history of minor interest—The two peoples that settled New Zealand—Intermarriage of these two elements—Quarrels between Mouriuri and Polynesians—Mixed progeny sides with Polynesians—Aborigines exterminated—The Toi tribes occupy New Zealand—Mouriuri refugees colonise the Chatham Islands—Polynesian settlers witness the extinction of the moa (Dinornis)—Vessels from Polynesia—Maori raid on the Chatham Isles—Superior mana of Polynesians—Origin of Maori tribes.
The School of Learning; its Objects, Methods and Ritual—The Whare wananga a tapu institution—Origin of such tapu—Lack of a script renders oral tradition imperative—Objects of the School of Learning—Conservatism of teachers—Origin of School of Learning—Taiwhetuki, the House of Death—Famous Schools—Names of such Schools—Sacred stones—Sessions held in winter—Magic believed in but termed evil—Different Schools of Learning—The mauri or talisman—The ahurewa or altar—Tapu stones employed in teaching—Methods of teaching—Titles of scholars—Precision aimed at in conserving lore—Stone seats for ceremonial use—Opening chaunt at sunrise—Archaic invocations—The three baskets of knowledge—Teaching in form of lectures—Examination of Scholars—Singular rites—Concluding ceremony performed in water—Invocation to the Supreme Being—Material and immaterial mauri (talisman and sacred life principle)—Additional notes on tapu stones—Procedure differed as among different tribes—Removal of tapu—The final ceremony—The oho rangi rite—South Island schools—Last session of the Whare wananga—The dangers of tapu—The basket of evil and its teaching—Ordeals and trials—The takuahi—The Ra-wheoro—Intense respect for tapu knowledge—The Universal Soul in Nature—Maori mentality—Maori characteristics and achievements—Origin of evil—The Maori and the Earth Mother.
The tribal history of such a people as the Maori of New Zealand is not a subject that appeals to the ethnographer, inasmuch as such oral traditions are composed almost entirely of somewhat monotonous accounts of inter-tribal warfare. It is when we come to deal with the cosmogony, mythology, religion, sociology, etc., of such barbaric races that the anthropologist becomes interested, and finds data for his comparative work. Bearing in mind this truth, I do not propose to give, in this sketch, any of the tribal histories that have been collected and recorded. There are, however, several matters to be explained ere the reader can understand the result of the meetings of the two peoples, Mouriuri and Polynesian, in these isles, and what effect the first settlers had on the later coming intrusive element from the eastern Pacific. The mixture of the two peoples and the development of tribal communities must receive some attention. It is also proposed to give some account of the method adopted in handing down oral traditions from one generation to another, an art in which the Maori unquestionably excelled.
The first question that claims our attention is that of the result of the influx of Polynesians into New Zealand that began with the arrival of Toi and his companions, and continued for probably two centuries.
Two facts are made clear in Maori tradition. The first of these is that the earlier Polynesian voyagers who settled on these shores brought but few women with them, and the second is that bickerings and quarrels between the two peoples began soon after their first intercourse with each other. We are told that the companions of Toi and Whatonga were given wives by the original settlers, and that the Mouriuri women were very partial to the stalwart Polynesian immigrants. This preference was owing to the fact that the newcomers were men of a much finer appearance, and, moreover, were more industrious than their predecessors. Whatonga himself seems to have had two Mouriuri wives, and succeeding immigrants followed the example of the first-comers. One tribal tradition puts matters in this way. The first-comers were given wives by the local natives; in after days such women were asked for, or demanded, and, still later, they
It is evident that, for a considerable period, the new-comers must have been weak in numbers, and hence they would be compelled to assume a peaceful demeanour, no light task for the Polynesian of that period. But, as time rolled on, the intruders’ position would be considerably strengthened each generation, in two ways. They were, ever and anon, receiving new recruits from overseas, and also the half-breed population, the progeny of Polynesian fathers and Mouriuri mothers, sided with the fathers’ clan and increased its strength. There could be only one result from the growth of such conditions. When we consider the character, the attributes, of such men as the Polynesian sea rovers, virile, proud, aggressive and forceful fighting men, we know that when they met with a people differing from them in many ways, then, sooner or later, a struggle to the death must result. That struggle came. The story of the contest, as handed down in tradition, is one of many and increasing quarrels, of increasing numbers of the mixed Polynesian-Mouriuri people, and finally of open warfare. The mixed population, often alluded to as the Toi tribes (Te Tini o Toi), though these people in some parts were also descended from other Polynesian immigrants, eventually determined to attack and destroy the unmixed Mouriuri folk, for whom they seem to have entertained both hatred and contempt. Tradition tells us that they were attacked at many places from the Bay of Plenty to the far north, and on both coasts. Many of the original people fled into the interior, and Maunga-pohatu is mentioned as one of the remote forest solitudes the refugees fled to. It is quite possible that the Nga Potiki, folk, the former occupants of the wild forest region of Tuhoe, were descendants of those refugees. For Nga Potiki do not know their own origin, hence they claim descent from mythical beings. Another fact that has puzzled us is that Potiki, their eponymic ancestor, was not, apparently, descended from Toi.
We now find the position to be as follows:—Owing to inter-marriage with the original settlers, the mixed race had become strong enough in numbers to attack the Mouriuri people, drive the survivors back into the interior, and seize their lands. The Toi folk became resolved into tribes, each occupying a definite area, and it was about this time that the sweet potato, and also probably the taro and gourd, were introduced from Polynesia.
Some time after the arrival of the Polynesian immigrants, the disturbed conditions in the North Island area led to the settlement of the Chatham Islands by some of the Mouriuri. One party of these harassed folk, under a chief named Kahu, left the Bay of Plenty district, marched across the island by way of Taupo, and camped on the northern shore of Cook Straits, at the mouth of the Rangitikei river. Under the supervision of a man named Te Aka-roroa, who was apparently a Polynesian, they constructed a vessel capable of conveying the party to the Chatham Isles, which lie about 400 miles eastward of the South Island of New Zealand. They had heard of the discovery of these isles by Toi, and resolved to seek them, and so attain a home in which they might dwell in peace. Now we know that the expedition did reach and settle in those isolated isles, for the Maioriori, or Moriori, folk found in occupation there by Lieut. Broughton late in the 18th century had preserved a tradition of the coming of Kahu, Te Aka-roroa, and their companions. The Maori folk of New Zealand also knew of the arrival of Kahu at the Chathams, and this knowledge was brought hither by one Hau-te-horo, a descendant of Te Aka-roroa of the fourth generation, who found his way back to this island and settled at Whanganui, a place that had been the home of his great-great-grandfather.
Tradition tells us of another party of Mouriuri folk that was expelled from Taranaki and came down the coast to Cook Straits. Here the refugees sojourned a while, and then sailed in several vessels for the Chathams. The natives of that group, who are now practically extinct, had traditions of the arrival there of several different lots of immigrants in the past.
As time rolled on the Toi tribes, the mixed folk, pushed their way further south into districts which the warmth-loving
Ere passing on to the later coming vessels from Polynesia, reference may be made to an interesting legend of the time of Toi. All students of Maori lore are acquainted with a peculiar title applied to the moa (Dinornis), that huge flightless bird that once roamed over these isles, and of which so many remains have been found. That title or saying is Te Manu nui a Ruakapanga—the Great Bird of Ruakapanga. This name puzzled us for a long time, until the following legend, collected in the “forties” of last century, was made known. It appears that this Ruakapanga was a relative of Toi. He chanced to go a-roving inland of moa, and the legend contains an account of the manner in which the creatures fed. Having overcome a certain superstitious fear of the great birds, Ruakapanga attempted to trap one of them, and was successful on several occasions, but the captured birds always succeeded in escaping. At length so stout a trap was constructed that no moa could free itself from it, and so it was that one was eventually secured. Thus it was that the moa became known as the Great Bird of Ruakapanga, a name that is also known to the Rarotongans. We thus see that both Maori and Mouriuri have known the moa, and both must have utilised it as a food supply. This is shown by the bones and fragments of moa egg shells found in middens and around old umu or cooking pits. It must have been ruthless hunting that led to the extermination of the bird in the North Island, so much of which was covered with dense forest in which some species certainly abode.
It has been noted that a number of vessels arrived on these shores from Polynesia twenty generations ago. These
The superiority of the last Polynesian immigrants was shown by the way in which they acquired influence over the Toi people. All the Maori folk of New Zealand trace their descent, by preference, from those immigrants, and indeed they have withheld information concerning previous inhabitants, this to so marked an extent that it is only of late years that we have gained detailed accounts of the Toi and Mouriuri peoples.
A tribal aphorism of the Tuhoe natives explains the Maori attitude:—We inherited our land from Toi and Potiki, but our mana from Tuhoe-potiki. The latter name is that of the eponymic ancestor of the tribe. It was the mana, the attribute of a forceful and energetic people, that brought the Polynesians to the front.Mana—power, prestige, influence, psychic force.
The immigrants by the different vessels of this last band of intrusive Polynesians settled in different districts, and adopted the same plan as that of the Toi migrants, they inter-married with the people in possession. They are said to have founded tribes in such districts, but it must be remembered that such tribes have a considerable strain of the Toi folk
The descendants of the Arawa and Matatua immigrants settled in different areas of the Bay of Plenty, where their mixed descendants still abide. The Tainui immigrants are represented by the tribes of Waikato and adjacent districts, and those of Aotea by the natives of Taranaki. The blood of the crews of Horouta and Takitumu runs in the veins of the native occupants of the East Cape and east coast districts. Natives of the northern pensinsula claim descent from the crews of the vessels Mamari and Mahuhu, and so on. Thus the North Island may be said to have been divided primarily into canoe districts, each of which, as a rule, is composed of several tribal districts.
As time passed by, and suitable lands for native occupation became all taken up, a world-old trouble arose, the pressure of one people upon another, and its accompanying jealousies, quarrels and wars. This was the beginning of the long period of such pressure, conquests, absorptions and expulsions that continued down to the arrival of Europeans, or rather when the power of the intrusive white folk became dominant in these isles. To give even a brief sketch of such barbaric disturbances would mean the publication of much matter containing little to interest either the ethnographer or the general reader. It is only by recording data concerning the origin, customs, institutions, myths and religion of a neolithic people that we can claim the attention of either. I will, therefore, proceed to view the Maori method of teaching and handing down oral traditions and sacred tribal lore to succeeding generations.
We have now to deal with one of the most interesting institutions of Maoriland, one that illustrates the reverence felt by the Maori for ancient lore, and casts much light on his mentality.
The tapu School of Learning, under different names, was held to be a highly important institution, and it assuredly occupied a high status in both islands. A study of this school and its activities impresses one with the conviction that the
tapu. In no sphere of Maori activities was that restrictive institution more in evidence than in the higher form of the School of Learning. The more intensely tapu matter was that pertaining to the Supreme Being, and the higher versions of cosmogonic myths, the origin of man, and the superior phases of religion. A people like ourselves, devoid of tapu, who hold our sacred teachings so cheaply as to make our Bible as common as the daily newspaper, simply cannot conceive the feeling the old-time Maori had for knowledge of the above kind.
We are aware that the Maori folk possessed no graphic system, no form of script by which accumulations of knowledge might be recorded and handed down. It was this fact that rendered the Whare wananga such an important institution in native eyes, inasmuch as it conserved all oral traditions, all sacred lore, and transmitted them verbally to posterity. Even when the Maori acquired the art of writing in the schools instituted by the early missionaries, the conservative repositories of ancient and tapu lore looked askance at the art, and showed no desire to make use of it as a vehicle for preserving their knowledge. Had the Maori retained his old-time lordship of these isles, he might have proceeded on similar lines to those adopted of old in India, and continued to conserve his revered knowledge by memory alone, side by side, as it were, with a written tongue.
The objects of the Whare wananga were to preserve all desirable knowledge, and to hand it down without any change by interpolation, omission, or deterioration. The ideal was a highly pitched one for a scriptless folk; it called for ceaseless care and vigilance on the part of the higher grade of tohunga.
Tohunga—expert, adept.
The original Whare wananga, assuredly the most renowned of all, was that known as Rangiatea, which was situated in the uppermost of the twelve heavens. This belonged to Io, the Supreme Being, and it was under the care of the Whatukura and Mareikura, the male and female denizens of the Toi o nga rangi, the uppermost of the twelve heavens, who are the attendants of Io. After this original House of Learning was named the island of Rangiatea (now known as Ra'iatea) in the Society Group, whereat was situated one of the most tapu places of all Polynesia. The Maori church at Otaki, built when Christianity was introduced into that part of New Zealand, was given the same name.
The first Whare wananga built on earth was named Whare-kura, and it was situated at a thrice tapu place named Te Hono-i-wairua, in the far-off homeland of Irihia. It is said to have been constructed by Rua-te-pupuke, who is the personified form of knowledge. In it was conserved all tapu knowledge pertaining to the Supreme Being, the twelve heavens and their denizens, and other revered lore.
Another House of Knowledge was that known as Taiwhetuki, which belonged to Whiro, the enemy of Tane, and personified form of darkness and evil. In this place was preserved the knowledge of evil, and evil arts, such as black magic. It was the origin of the pernicious Whare maire of this world, wherein magic arts are taught. Tai-whetuki was the abode of the dread Maiki brethren, a grisly company, who are the personified forms of sickness and disease, of all maladies that attack men. Ever they wage war against the descendants of Tane, who succumb in their thousands. In Tai-whetuki, the House of Death, they ever dwell. So say the Maori folk of the world of life.
The names of other famous Whare wananga have been preserved, some of which were situated in the hidden land of Irihia, some in eastern Polynesia, and some in New Zealand. The most famous ones on the eastern coast of the North
The name applied to these Schools of Learning differed in different districts. In some parts it is called the Whare maire, but among the Takitumu people that name is applied only to an inferior school in which was imparted knowledge of black magic. Among the Tuhoe tribe the high-class school was known as the Whare takiura; such was Kahuponia at Maunga-pohatu. In some cases evidently no special house was built, in which case the name seems to pertain to what may be termed the curriculum. In some districts the name of Wharekura denoted the School of Learning, as at Taranaki.
At the isle of Rarotonga, in the Cook Group, this institution was known as the Are vananga. The word wananga denotes occult knowledge, while whare is a house, a term that is often employed in a figurative manner, as in whare potae and whare taua, the house of mourning. We shall see anon that three classes or grades of knowledge were introduced into the world by Tane.
The two sacred stones obtained by Tane from the Supreme Being were employed as empowering agents to impart mana, force, efficiency, to ritual utterances. A singular act was performed in those remote times whereby to obtain sacred, mana possessing stones for use in the ritual of the Whare wananga. Certain small stones of a suitable size were obtained and deposited on or against the tapu stones (whatu kura) obtained from Io. By this contact the small stones became impregnated as it were with the tapu and mana (sacredness and innate powers) of the larger ones, and so were rendered fit for use in the School of Learning. This belief in the effect of contact seems to illustrate a phase of mentality akin to that which places faith in mediums in sympathetic magic. Of such peculiar mental phenomena we may note survivals in civilised communities.
The Whare wananga seems to have been opened during winter months only. In the Kahungunu district the session was from the lunar month called Tikaka-muturangi to that of Taperewai, that is from April to September. This institu-
tohunga of the superior grade objected to it. In many cases such magic was taught out of doors, in some retired spot, and indeed tribal traditions and ritual were sometimes taught in similar places. This would be when no suitable building existed in which to conduct the teachings.
The following description is that of the methods of imparting knowledge employed among the Takitumu folk of the each coast of the North Island, the Kahungunu tribe referred to above. In this district such knowledge was divided into two main classes, known as the kauwae runga (upper jaw), and the kauwae raro (lower jaw), or celestial and terrestrial subjects. The former expression denotes the heavens above us, the latter the earth. The celestial lore is that pertaining to the Supreme Being, the racial cosmogonic and anthropogenic myths, the primal parents and their offspring, all matters concerning the upper world of the heavens. The terrestrial lore is that treating of the homeland of the race, the migration therefrom, historical traditions, tribal history, etc.; all matters pertaining to this world.
The following are the three “houses,” so-called, of learning of the above-mentioned district:—
The expression “Whare wananga” denoted all high-class knowledge, esoteric lore, the higher forms of religious teachings, such matter as comes under the term of
kauwae runga, and the more important matter pertaining to the kauwae raro. All ceremonial connected with the enlightenment of the human mind, with the preservation of the physical, intellectual and spiritual welfare of man, was here taught. All of such matter represents the contents of the kete aronui, the most important of the three “baskets” of knowledge. There was much highly tapu ritual pertaining to the methods and conduct of these teachings. The teaching commenced at sunrise and continued until the sun reached the zenith, when it ceased.
The expression “Whare kaupo” denotes second-class matter, such as tribal history, accounts of old wars, and other subjects of somewhat inferior status. This “house” was open from noon until sunset, when the teaching ceased for the day.
The term “Whare maire” denoted low-class matter connected with evil deeds, such as black magic, the slaying of man by means of destroying his wairua (soul). In some other districts, as we have seen, the whare maire represented higher-class teachings. In the Kahungunu district it was the home of wizardry and shamanism. These teachings were conducted at night, commencing at sunset. Now such was the division of the day as regards teaching tribal lore, or so we are told by natives. But it was an ideal that apparently was not attained, and I am certain that such a strict limitation of hours was not adhered to in all cases. In some districts we are told that all subjects were taught at night only.
In the building of a house to be used for a special purpose, as a School of Learning, for example, there would be buried at the base of the rearmost post supporting the ridgepole some object, generally a stone, that was known as a whatu. This served as a mauri or talisman for the house. It acted as an abiding place, a kind of shrine, for the gods under whose protection the house had been placed; it preserved the welfare of all connected with it, and of all proceedings connected with it. In at least some cases a few hairs, plucked from the heads of the priests conducting the ritual connected with the building of the house, were buried with the stone. In other cases a lizard was so buried.
At the base of the rearmost post alluded to was the most tapu spot of the Whare wananga: it was known as the ahurewa. At this place was performed any ceremony performed over the scholars, and here were kept a number of small stones used in the rites pertaining to the establishment. These small stones were used for a very singular purpose, for we are told that one was given to each pupil, who placed it in his mouth and retained it there while listening to the lectures of the adepts whom we may term the professors of the School
When entering the Whare wananga scholars were compelled to disrobe and leave their garments at some distance from the school; this was on account of the intense tapu of the place. They entered the building in a state of nudity and clad themselves with garments kept therein. When leaving the place a reverse process had to be gone through, for such is the exigency of the rules of tapu. For the same reason no food and no women were allowed to enter the house.
Prior to youths being permitted to enter our School of Learning they were tested as to their powers of memory. Certain popular legendary tales, korero purakau, were repeated to them, and they were required to repeat such matter from memory before examiners. Those who possessed retentive memories were selected as scholars, allowed to enter the Whare wananga. For the acquisition of high-class matter, the lore of the kauwae runga, it was necessary that the scholars should be young men of good family, of the rangatira class.
The ordinary term for a scholar is akonga, but other terms are employed to denote those who enter the School of Learning. Thus a beginner, a neophyte, is called a pia, one further advanced a taura, and he who has fully acquired the wananga is termed a tauira. A person possessed of much knowledge of occult lore and tribal traditions is known as a pu (receptacle or repository) or pu korero, or a putea rauroha. The tauira automatically becomes a tohunga, because the latter term simply denotes an expert, an adept, not necessarily a priest.
The great aim of the Whare wananga was to pass on old-time lore unchanged to succeeding generations. Any deviation from olden teachings was black treason. To deny the truth of any of its teachings would be a highly pernicious act. A worthy old sage remarked to one he had taught: “O son! Carefully retain the tapu lore I have imparted to you. Your ancestors ever conserved it within the Whare wananga. Should any person condemn these teachings, then may the sun wither him, may the moon consign him to the pit of darkness. He is not condemning me, but Tane the Parent, from whom this sacred lore was derived.”
In our School of Learning of the east coast stone seats were provided for use in certain ceremonial performances. This was a most unusual thing, for the Maori did not use seats other than that provided by the earth. These stones used as seats were eleven in number. Eight of them were placed at the rearmost main post of the house, and the other three further forward, near the takuahi, or fireplace. The eight seats were for the use of scholars, and the three for the accommodation of the teachers.
When the scholars had entered the house, and clothed themselves, then the door was closed and a priest teacher intoned an invocation to Ruatau, Rehua and Paoa, supernatural beings of the heavens. The chaunt was commenced just as the first rays of the rising sun fell upon the house, which invariably faced the east. Bear in mind that Tane represents knowledge, he introduced superior forms of knowledge into the world, and Tane is the personified form of the sun. The scholars were assembled, the priest teacher was standing by the rear post facing the east and awaiting the flash of the rising sun. He was about to hail great Tane.
This act of waiting for the rays of the rising sun carries the mind back to Persian armies on the march in days of old. When the first rays struck the crystal globe enclosing a golden image of the sun fixed on the king's pavilion, the daily march began. First went the chariot with the altar and the sacred fire, even as, with our Maori folk, the amorangi, or emblem of a god, was carried by a priest in the van of a marching force, as exemplified in the old saying: “Ko te amorangi ki mua, ko te hapai o ki muri.” (The emblem of the god in the van, the food bearers in the rear.)
The principal officiating priestly teacher raised his voice at the appearance of the sun in an invocation to Io the Supreme Being. It was a beseeching that the scholars might be enabled to acquire and retain the sacred teachings, the thrice tapu racial lore of the Maori. The language in which these invocations are couched is extremely archaic, and they contain many obsolete and sacerdotal expressions. The construction of the effusions is fine and pitched upon a high plane of thought. As an illustration, the concluding part of the invocation just alluded to is here given:—
During his recital the priest struck the post near him with his hand. This recital placed the house, its inmates, and the proceedings under intense tapu, so much so that, until it was lifted, the high gods of the Maori might be said to be present. It was an invoking of the gods and the God to come to the aid of the scholars. Any error committed by a priest in the recital of these intoned chaunts was an extremely serious matter, and would probably result in the death of the priest. Such was the Maori belief.
Prior to the commencement of the lectures, each scholar was required to state which of the three “baskets” of knowledge he desired to acquire, and classes were arranged accordingly. The three kete o te wananga (baskets or receptacles of occult knowledge) are as follows:—
Each of these so-called baskets may be described as a syllabus, and it is of interest to note here that Hindoos speak of their three baskets of knowledge, which represent their sacerdotal lore.kete aronui—All desirable, beneficient, useful knowledge designed to benefit mankind.kete tuauri—The knowledge of all ritual, or ceremonial matters, invocations and the conduct of all rites.kete tuatea—The knowledge of evil, of black magic and all things harmful to man.
The kete aronui was the first one opened in the School of Learning, and this contained the lore of the kauwae runga, teachings concerning the Supreme Being, cosmogonic and anthropogenic myths, etc. All matter was taught in the form of lectures, and had to be very carefully memorised. A single error in such matters as karakia (invocations, etc.) and genealogies was fatal to success. A scholar might wish to acquire but one, or two, of the three baskets, and high-class
When the lectures connected with the kauwae runga, or celestial matters, came to an end, then a peculiar ceremonial function was performed in order to abolish the intense tapu pertaining to those subjects, for tapu is a condition that imposes many hampering restrictions. Then lectures dealing with the kauwae raro were commenced, historical traditions, matters of this world. When three teachers took part in the proceedings, two would act as kaituruki, or prompters to the one speaking.
When the course of lectures was ended, then the examination of the scholars was proceeded with. As observed, the procedure appears to have differed somewhat in different places, but one account collected is as follows:—Each scholar who was to be examined with regard to the lore of the kete aronui took his seat on one of the three stone seats near the fireplace of the house. Those who were to be examined in the other “basket” of knowledge seated themselves on the stones at the base of the rear supporting post of the ridgepole. The small stones kept at that place were produced by one of the teachers, who placed one in the mouth of each pupil. These stones seem to have been endowed with mana by having been placed in contact with one of the tapu stones (whatu) of the house. Each scholar was called upon to repeat the matter of the lectures he had listened to. Those who showed themselves efficient, who had memorised such teachings in a satisfactory manner, were subjected to a final ceremony as they sat on the stone seats.
A peculiar act was performed at this juncture by one of the priestly teachers. He plucked a hair from the head of each pupil who had passed with honour, obtained a fragment of dust from their bare feet, a portion of their saliva, and buried them near the rear post of the house. The object of this procedure was to render the scholars invulnerable to the shafts of black magic, and to enable them to retain the acquired knowledge, to prevent it being filched from them by charlatans.
Certain ritual formulæ were intoned by the priests over the scholars as they sat on the stone seats, such extremely
tapu invocations had to be delivered without pause or break in the continuity of the recital, hence a tohunga turuki, or assistant priest, took part in the proceedings. The chief examiner commenced, and continued the chaunt so long as his breath held out. The very instant he stopped, his assistant took up the recital without any perceptible break in the delivery. These adepts were extremely expert in this procedure. To each scholar was given a small fragment of stone over which a charm had been repeated. This stone was called the whatu whakahoro, and it had to be swallowed at a certain stage of an intoned invocation. The swallowing of the fragment of stone, we are told, had the effect of stabilising the acquired knowledge.
The function was a remarkable one. The stone was placed on the tongue of a scholar, and he retained it there until the time came for him to swallow it. Another small stone, termed a whatu kairangi, was given to each scholar in the final rite, and this seems to have equalled our diploma or parchment certificate. This stone was retained by the scholar, and an old native friend of the writer always carries his in his vest pocket. The stone that, in at least some districts, scholars kept in their mouths while listening to the lectures, was called a whatu whangai.
In some cases the final ceremony over the scholars who had passed the examination was held, not in the Whare wananga, but at the wai tapu, or sacred water of that institution. This would be a stream somewhere in the vicinity. Into this stream each scholar was conducted by a priest teacher, and so they stood, spiritually insulated from all contaminating influences, facing the rising sun. The scholar stood at the priest's left hand, the latter placed his left hand on the pupils' head, and with his right hand pointed towards the sun, who is Tane nui a Rangi, Great Tane, offspring of Rangi, and the parent of all high-class knowledge. As they stood in this position, the priest intoned the following invocation:—
Na, ka horomia te kowhatu i roto i te waha o te taura ra i tenei tonu. Na, ka mea ano te tohunga.
(Now at this precise moment the stone within the mouth of the scholar was swallowed, and the priest proceeded.)
The above invocation is a good specimen of the highest type of invocation employed in old-time Maori ritual. The wording is archaic and highly sacerdotal. Such ritual was intoned in an impressive manner, and would that my readers could hear a Maori expert rolling forth with rhythmic diction this ancient appeal to the gods. It appeals to divers gods and personifications, to Rangi the Sky Parent, to Ruatau, Tane, Pawa, and to Great Io, the Supreme Being. It appeals
tapu knowledge they have acquired.
The School of Learning of the Whanganui district seem to have had different names for the sacred stones, and each scholar seems to have had three such stones assigned to him. In the year 1876, one whatu puororangi will enable you to retain acquired knowledge, also it will prevent you disseminating such matter in an unwise manner. The whatu kai manawa you should ever carry with you, especially when joining an assembly of strangers. (Evidently this stone was supposed to possess protective powers, though such a fact is rot actually stated.) As to the whatu whakatara, always place this beneath your pillow at night; it may beneficially affect your mauri (sacred life principle). As you do so repeat over it the following formula:—
Here we note that this stone was employed as a material mauri, or talisman, to protect the immaterial mauri of man, that is to protect his life principle. We shall, in another that is to protect his life principle. We shall, in another place, enquire further into this extremely interesting double application of the term mauri when dealing with the spiritual and mental concepts of the Maori. It will be observed that, in the above formula, the mauri is spoken of as emanating from, or originating with, the gods.
It has been my privilege to examine a collection of sacred stones formerly used in the famous old Whare wananga of Maunga-wharau, in the Hawke's Bay district. They are flat, smooth, apparently water-worn stones, circular or somewhat ovoid in form, and about one inch across. One is of a jet black, but the others of a reddish colour. If I am not much mistaken they represent a stone commonly termed carnelian, such as is found about Cabbage Bay, Hauraki Peninsula.
All tohunga ahurewa, priestly experts of the Whare wanaga, were extremely tapu personages, more particularly the chief priest, sometimes termed the whatu of the School of Learning. Te Matorohanga of Wai-rarapa was such a high expert, hence his tapu prevented him entering stores, or dwelling houses of Europeans. He could not even partake of food without assistance, the tapu prevented his handling food, hence his sister used to feed him, actually placing the food in his mouth, for such was the tapu of the Maori in the days of yore.
As previously observed, the methods differed as in different districts. In some schools no stone was swallowed by pupils, and in some the stone given to one who had passed in the examination test was known as a whatu tamaua take, of which each one had its own specific name. In the year 1914 there were four old men, holders of this stone “certificate” still living in the Whanganui district. In some schools a small tapu stone was retained by each scholar in his mouth, on the left side thereof, when repeating the acquired matter of the lectures to the examiners. In this case those who had been successful underwent a final ceremony while seated on the stone seats at the rear end of the house. The scholar seated himself on one of these stones, when an examiner handed him a stone about two and a-half inches in diameter, termed a whatu turuki. This stone the scholar retained between his open hands by means of pressure, his hands being help up before him as he sat on the stone. Then certain ritual formulæ were recited over him. He was then told to rise, and another such stone was placed on the seat, on which he again seated himself. Then two priests took their stand, one on either side of him, and each placed a hand on his head, so as just to touch it. A third priest then intoned certain ritual that enabled the pupil to retain the sacred lore. Then the pupil was handed his stone diploma, which he retained. Each scholar who successfully underwent the examination took his seat on the right side of the house; those who failed had to go to the left side. The latter might be granted another opportunity to memorise the lectures. Some of the sacred stones used in these schools are said to have been brought to New Zealand in past centuries by immigrants
karakia. Then each scholar in turn held the stone in his mouth as another invocation was chaunted. The teaching or lecture then commenced, and was continued until the sun reached the zenith, when it ceased for the day.
Prior to the dispersal of the scholars of the Whare wananga it was highly necessary that the tapu of the proceedings should be lifted from them. This rite was performed outside the house, often at the turuma or latrine, which place for some reason, was often selected as the spot where religious ceremonies were performed. At this place the scholars were subjected to the extraordinary rite known as ngau paepae, in which the subject has to bite (ngau) the horizontal beam of the latrine, the while certain invocations or chaunts were intoned by the priest. After this performance the scholars immersed their bodies in the waters of a stream.
The next scene was enacted at the Whare wananga, to which all returned, and grouped themselves within the porch, standing in a rank just within the outer threshold, and facing outwards. The head teacher, standing on the marae or clear space in front of the house, then addressed the youths, congratulating them upon their success, their behaviour while under tuition, and also giving them much advice on many points. He warned them to be careful in their demeanour, to comport themselves with dignity, to prize highly and cherish carefully the treasures of learning acquired within the sacred precincts of the Whare wananga.
Teachers and scholars then left the building in procession, the former leading. On arriving at the bounds of the marae, or plaza, before the house, the procession halted, and all turned to face the Whare wananga. A priest now arranged a kauahi (piece of wood used in making fire by friction) and proceeded to hika ahi, or generate fire. For this ceremonial fire was, like fire employed in all ritual functions, exceedingly
tapu, hence new fire was essential; it could not be kindled with live embers from any other fire. While this adept was busy with the fire plough apparatus, another priest was intoning a tapu chaunt appropriate to the occasion. The most prominent feature of this final rite was the singular performance known as oho rangi, which was an awakening of the heavens. A tohunga of high standing would, by means of his mana, cause thunder to sound in the heavens. This was the culminating act of the session, and it not only imparted mana to the proceedings, but also emphasised the powers of the priest. The powers that enabled him to so control a natural phenomenon would be a combination of mana tangata and mana atua, human and supernatural powers. This implied power over the forces of nature, as possessed by the tohunga maori, was a matter of firm faith in the native mind. Different phases of thunder possess specific names in Maoriland; in fact they are personified, and the two forms controlled in connection with the above rite are known as Puoro-rangi and Te Rangi-whakarara. The former of these is marked by a rumbling sound, and the latter by sharp detonations.
At the conclusion of the above rite the scholars divested themselves of their tapu garments and resumed their ordinary clothing. They were then free to return to their homes, to mingle with the people. Their period of tuition was over, they had passed through the three grades of scholarship, the pia, taura and tauira. Henceforward they would be viewed as tohunga (adepts) and pu korero (repositories of learning).
In the South Island these schools of learning were called Whare kura and Whare purakau. Kura is a term employed to denote anything highly prized, the reference being to highclass knowledge in this case. Whare purakau simply means Legend House. The Whare kura seems to have been of higher standing than the other, its teachings being confined to such matters as historical traditions and the ritual pertaining to agriculture, etc., while the other house, or curriculum, included such matters as the practice of the art of war. Mr
The final sessions of at least some of the Schools of Learning of the east coast of the North Island were marked by the utilisation of written language, the scholars recording the teachings in M.S. books. This innovation was looked at askance by the conservative, dour old tohunga, who viewed the procedure with dislike and contempt. I have an account of these sessions, and the means taken to lift the tapu from such books at the conclusion of the teachings. This was done by means of what was known as the umu whakahoro rite. The teacher made a small hole in the earthern floor of the house in which the school had been conducted. He then heated some small stones in a fire kindled outside the house, and placed them in the umu or diminutive earth oven. He then placed a little watercress on the hot stones, and on that a dozen very small potatoes. More herbage was put on top of the potatoes, and a little water sprinkled over it; this water, percolating down to the hot stones, produced the steam that is the cooking agent. The little steam oven was then covered closely with earth so as to prevent escape of the steam.
When the potatoes were deemed to be cooked, the priest demanded the M.S. books of the scholars, and piled them up at his right side. He then opened the steam oven, took the uppermost book, belonging to one Henare Matua, and told the owner to approach him. The priest held the book in his right hand, and took one of the small cooked potatoes in his left hand. He placed the potatoe in the left hand of Henare, and the book in his right hand. He then acted in like manner with the other pupils and their books, after which he told all to whakaha their books, a curious sacerdotal expression which denotes the placing of an object to the mouth, an act accompanied by an intaking of the breath. Four times was this act performed. At the first inspiration the priest said “He toi nui,” at the second “He toi roa,” at the third “He toi whakaputa,” and at the fourth “Nau, e lo o Tikitiki o rangi, e!”
The priest then commanded all to eat the potatoes they held in their hands. Then this old survivor of the ancient and tapu School of Learning stood forth with upraised hands, gazing upward apparently at the ridgepole of the house, as he intoned the final formula of the last session of the Whare wananga of his ancestors:—
In the particular case of tapu removing ceremonies here described, one pupil, an adult, declined to have the tapu removed from his book, the intense tapu that is so dangerous to human life. He took it to his home, erected a special building in which to keep the book, and placed it in a small box, which he hoisted up to the ridgepole by means of a cord. One day, during his absence, some children entered the building, lowered the box to the floor, sat on it, and partook of food while doing so. This was a vile pollution of the stringent tapu, and, in a brief space, the owner became insane, and so died. The fateful book passed into the possession of a relative, who also lost his reason, and, while in that condition, he destroyed the book. Truly the gods who live for ever, the hidden power behind the institution of tapu, are not to be insulted with impunity. So sayeth the Maori.
The nefarious arts of the “basket of evil” constituted a teaching kept apart from high-class lore, and such matter was sometimes taught out of doors, at some secluded spot. The teaching was marked by some unpleasant ordeals and trials. In some cases a learner was compelled to swallow repulsive substances, and to steel himself to slay a relative by means of his newly-acquired magic powers. This was the price that he paid for the acquisition of such powers. We are told that, in some cases, a pupil was commanded to bewitch his teacher, or one of his own parents. Any person so bewitched would assuredly die. Other trials of his skill were demanded. He was told to slay a bird, to blast a living tree, and to shatter a stone, all by means of the magic vril-like power he had acquired. Should he successfully perform these acts, then he was told to slay a person by the same means, after which he became a tohunga makutu, a wizard, a warlock of acknowledged mana, a being dreaded by all.
In some districts, apparently, no special house was employed as a Whare wananga, and youths would be taught by their fathers or grandfathers. The procedure in such cases
An attendant, called the takuahi, was employed during sessions of the School of Learning to perform any necessary duties connected with the house, such as tending fires. We are told that, in some cases, these men acquired a considerable amount of knowledge of tribal lore by means of listening to the lectures of the teachers.
The Ra-wheoro School at Uawa was opened, perhaps for the last time, in 1836, just after the fight at Toka-a-kuku. Rangi-uia, Toki-puanga and Mohi Ruatapu were the teachers, and Te Matorohanga of Wai-rarapa was present. The last teaching of tribal lore on the lines of the Whare wananga in the Wai-rapapa district was, I believe, that of 1865. The procedure was a modified form of ancient methods.
Among the older generation of natives there is much of sentimental regard for old racial and tribal institutions. I have heard them regret the abandonment of the School of Learning, and the attitude of the younger generation towards the formerly-prized tribal lore. One of these survivors of a lost past remarked: “I mourn over the bequest of our ancestors and our elders”—in allusion to the Whare wananga that has closed its doors for ever.
Cosmogonic myths—Two versions of myths—A conservative priesthood—Creation chaunt—Io a demiurgic Supreme Being—The Sky Parent and Earth Mother—Cosmogonic concepts of Maori point to a distant fatherland—Attitude of Maori toward Supreme Being—The twelve names of Io—The twelve heavens—The twelve series of celestial beings—Io a moral deity—The abode of Io—Io the Parentless stands alone—Io known at Rarotonga and Tahiti—Io and Jehovah—All things are one—The universal soul in nature—Cosmogonic genealogies—Departmental deities—The universe evolved from chaos—The Primal Parents—The Po—Primeval darkness—Light enters the world—Separation of Sky and Earth—The offspring of Rangi and Papa—Tane—Ascent of Tane to the twelfth heaven—Whiro attacks Tane—Tane and Io—Tane obtains the three “baskets” of knowledge—The Wind Children attack Whiro—The Poutiriao or Guardians—Contest between Light and Darkness—The Maiki brethren—The House of Death—The overturning of the Earth Mother—Origin of the heavenly bodies—Sun myths—The Children of Light—The Cloud Children and Wind Children—Anthropogenic myths—The ira atua and ira tangata—The search for the female element—The origin of trees—The creation of woman—Origin of man—Origin of birds—The mysterious Tiki—Birth of the Dawn Maid—The Dawn Maid descends to the underworld—Poetic description of the Dawn Maid—Popular version of origin of man.
The cosmogonic myths of the Maori folk of New Zealand contain elements of much interest to anthropologists, and the same may be said with regard to the origin of man as explained in the mythology of the race. One of the most remarkable features connected with these subjects is the fact that there are two versions of both, and this peculiarity is, at first, somewhat disconcerting to the student. A close study of the matter, however, shows clearly that these differing versions are quite in accord with Maori procedure, and the result of the intense spirit of conservatism displayed by highclass experts in ancient lore, combined with the high degree of tapu pertaining to such teachings.
An explanation of these versions and their origin must be preceded by drawing further attention to the conservative attitude ever adopted by the trained repositories of racial and tribal lore, more particularly that of the Kauwae runga, or esoteric lore. The ordinary people of a community were never made acquainted with such matter. The inner or sacerdotal version of the origin of the universe pertained to the cult of Io. This could not be vulgarised by placing it in the hands of the people. Thus it was that a secondary version was evolved and taught by second-grade adepts to the people. In the superior version we are told that the world was brought into being by Io, the Supreme Being; the popular or exoteric version is that it was evolved from preceding conditions, the process being given in genealogical form. In brief, then, the one origin is demiurgic, the other genealogical or evolutionary.
A remarkably fine Creation chaunt, or hymn, collected by the late Colonel Gudgeon, presents the superior version of our cosmogonic myth. It opens with the statement that Io dwelt within the vast expanse of space, that nothing else existed save darkness and water. There was no day, no heavenly bodies, no light. Io expressed his intention to dwell without habitation, that is, to pervade all space. He then brought light into existence, a great light prevailed. Io looked upon the vast expanse of waters that surrounded him, and he bade the waters be separated, and the sky be formed, and the earth born. Thus the suspended heavens came into existence, and beneath them lay Papa the Earth. So came the primal parents, Rangi the Sky Father and Papa the Earth Mother, into being. From these originated all else around, above and below us.
This chaunt of the great demiurge, the Creator Io, is couched in fine, stately language of archaic form, containing singular cryptic sayings and terse idioms beloved by the Maori. This exalted concept of creation was the fruit of the mind of barbaric man, of neolithic cannibals, of people we deem savages. It bears the aspect of antiquity and of an Oriental origin. No such concept was evolved by the farscattered Polynesian folk while dwelling in innumerable communities on the many isles of the eastern Pacific. This and other conceptions of a superior type must have been the
In writing for people who have no compunction about mentioning the name of the Supreme Being, who publish it abroad, and even employ it to add weight to vituperation, it is impossible to convey any idea of the attitude of the Maori towards Io. So intensely sacred was the cult of Io that the bulk of the people were not allowed to become acquainted with it. It is doubtful if they knew the name of that being; they certainly never heard the more important invocations addressed to Io of the Hidden Face. Such formulæ were employed only in regard to what were deemed subjects of importance. Io was never invoked in connection with minor matters, or anything held to be evil, such as magic.
The Supreme Being was possessed of twelve names, though such names differed somewhat, apparently, in different schools of learning. The following list was given by a member of the Kahungunu tribe:—
According to the teaching of the Maori there are twelve heavens, and Io dwells in the uppermost one, known as Tiki-tiki-o-rangi, and also as Te Toi o nga rangi. The following are the names of the twelve heavens, commencing with the uppermost one:—
The last of the list is the sky we see above us, in which the heavenly bodies are situated. The word rangi, in vernacular speech, signifies the sky, and also represents its personified form. Collectively the twelve heavens are termed nga rangi tuhaha, the bespaced or separated heavens. The Whatukura and Mareikura are two companies of denizens of the uppermost heaven. The first mentioned are male beings, the latter female, and all are supernatural beings. The duties of these constitute them the attendants of Io; they act as messengers and supervisors, and have the power to visit all the lower heavens, the earth, the spirit world, and all other realms. They convey to Io reports on the condition of things in all realms. The other eleven heavens also possess such companies of celestial beings, male and female, the names of which companies have been preserved. The denizens of the lower heavens, however, cannot enter the uppermost one. Each company of such denizens numbers twelve beings.
It was explained that Io had no connection with evil, and so could be invoked only with regard to the welfare of the people. Yet we shall see that the knowledge of evil came originally from the Toi o nga rangi. So far as we know the Maori priesthood made no attempt to reconcile these two facts. It must, at the same time, be admitted that our knowledge of native beliefs, etc., is very far from being complete. It seems that evil entered the world when the offspring of Rangi and Papa rebelled against their parents, and Tane and Whiro commenced their eternal feud, which still continues, but of which more anon.
The abode of Io is at Rangiatea, a place situated at that part of the uppermost heaven known as Te Rauroha. This name of Rangiatea is a famed and a revered one in Polynesian estimation. It is not only the abode of Io, but was also famous for other reasons. At that place the highly tapu and mana possessing stones, termed whatu kura were kept, and which were in charge of the attendants of Io. They were deposited on the ahurewa, or altar, of that place. A singular statement once made to me by a learned old native was to the effect that, at the abode of Io, and situated before him where he can plainly see it, is a large stone that possesses the attributes of a magic mirror. This stone in some way reflects all occurrences that take place in all realms. Thus, should one of his messenger attendants report that certain things are occurring, say in the realm of Kiwa, the ocean, then Io has but to look into the stone in order to become acquainted with all particulars. The practical mind marvels why messengers should be employed by a deity possessing such a singularly useful stone, but such discrepancies do not in any way perturb the mind of barbaric man.
There seem to have been no teachings as to the origin of Io. He is Io the Parentless, Io the eternal; he had no parents, he took no female being to wife, he begat no offspring. He created the earth and the heavens, and caused all realms, all things to exist, hence is he known as Io the Parent. He was the cause of the birth of offspring to the primal parents Rangi and Papa, from whom all things are descended, hence was Io the true origin of all life and all entities. We shall see anon that the soul of man, the vivifying spirit, and the breath of life, also emanated from Io.
The cult of Io is a very singular one to be evolved by a barbaric folk, for this beneficent deity represents a truly remarkable concept. There is nothing of terrorism in it. No image of Io could be fashioned, no offerings made to him. Of a verity this cultus is of a much more refined nature than the blood-stained worship of Jehovah as depicted in the Old Testament.
In an account of some old Polynesian traditions related by a Rarotonga native (Cook Group), and published in the Journal of the Polynesian Society, occurs the following passage:—“I may say the god Io was an atua mekameka (beneficent deity), and the ancient priests, my ancestors, always ended the special karakia (ritual) with the chaunt: ‘Io, te atua nui ki te rangi tuatini’ (‘Io, the great god of the vast heavens’).” Again, a native of Tahiti informed me that, in olden times, the most important god was Io-i-te-vahi-naro, or, in the New Zealand dialect, Io-i-te-wahi-ngaro (Io of the hidden place). Compare one of our Maori names for this deity, Io-mata-nagro (Io of the hidden face).
Let us stray a little further afield. Among certain Asiatic folk the name of Jehovah assumed many forms, as Jahweh, or Iahweh, Yahweh, Iahoue. Now Renan, in his History of the People of Israel, writes: “The holy name became contracted into Iahou or Io.” This suggests a startling theory. Has the name of Jehovah been carried westward, and that of Io eastward, from a common centre, to meet here at the bounds of the earth? This is but one of many striking Asiatic-Polynesian parallels that provide much pabulum for thinking minds. This, however, is not the time or place to discuss this attractive subject. One old Maori tradition gives the names of two primal gods, Io and Ha. Oriental scholars tell us that Ea, or Ia, or Aa, was identified with Ya, Yau, or Au, the Jah of the Hebrew.
The teachings of the Whare wananga were to the effect that Io is the head of the universe. The various attendants, Whatu-kura, Marei-kura, and Poutiriao, are all emissaries of Io, and under his sway, and, as they are the welfare of all beings and all things, then it follows that all beings, all things, all eyes, all ears, are turned to Io-matua, Io the Parent. He is truly the life, the welfare, the acme, the head of all things
All things possess a wairua (soul or spirit), each after the manner of its kind. There is but one parent of all things, one god of all things, one lord of all things, one soul of all things—Na reira ka kotahi nga mea katoa—therefore all things are one, and all emanated from Io the Eternal.
Such were the teachings of the Whare wananga as to the attributes of the Supreme Being, such was the cult of Io. We see here the evidence of a superior phase of mentality, of a high plane of introspective thought, as possessed by the ancestors of the Maori in times long passed away. We can see how the superior minds of a barbaric people endeavoured to trace the origin of matter and of life, how they evolved a belief in the Universal Soul, and how, groping their way forth from the darkness of ages, they conceived a Supreme Being of beneficent aspect. They had weakened the bonds of enslaving superstition, and set their feet on the long, long path that leads to monotheism.
What may be termed the inferior cosmogonic concept is given in genealogical form, and there are several different versions of this myth. One of these will recall the cosmogonic tree of the old world:—
In one version of this cosmogonic genealogy, which was collected in the Whakatane district, each of the above names includes ten generations, or periods. Thus it gives “The first Pu” to “The tenth Pu,” and so on. The above names assuredly carry the mind back to old-world concepts of the sacred tree, the cosmogonic tree, or universe tree. From the Po
There are a number of different versions of these theogonic and cosmogonic myths, as taught in different districts. One commences with Atea (Syn. Watea=Space), and includes ten names, the last two of which, Te Po and Te Kore, are the only ones that are included in the list given above. This second list includes names meaning Mind, Thought, Desire, Welfare, Seeking, Energy, etc. These are given as follows:—From development (as in the womb) sprang Growth; from Growth sprang Energy; from Energy sprang Thought; from Thought sprang Mind; from Mind sprang Desire; and so on down to Rangi and Papa. The sky was spread out above the earth. A South Island version is to the effect that from the unknown came the universe, then the world of light and life, then the enduring world, then the unattainable void, the unstable void, and so on to moisture, which, combined with limitless thought, produced Rangi, the sky.
An interesting version of the origin of the primal parents was given by a Waikato chieftain. This cosmogonic scheme is of a novel form, inasmuch as it commences with the name of Io and is brought down in two lines, showing the male and female lines of descent. It commences as follows:—
In this version Io, the Supreme Being, is credited with having brought the stars into existence. The stars produced the moon and sun, a novel feature in Maori myth, wherein the stars are usually described as the younger relatives (taina) of the moon and sun. The moon heads the female line of descent, and the sun the male line. Each line of descent consists of nineteen names, commencing with Te Po, to which are added qualifying expressions, in the female line, and with Te Ao in the male line. The same qualifying terms are
The first name given after that of Tu is Aitua, a word that, in vernacular speech, means “misfortune.” Then come four names commencing with Aitu, a word meaning “demon,” also “calamity, sickness.” Then come seven names beginning with Kore (chaos, nothingness); then five Ngana names, then comes Tiki under four names, of whom we shall hear again.
The crediting of light to the male line, and of darkness to the female line, is quite in accordance with Maori views, for ever in native myth and belief the female sex is given an inferior position. Woman is allied with misfortune and inferiority, as among other barbaric races. The word Po is explained below; while ao denotes day, to dawn, and, as an adjective, bright.
In mist-laden days of the remote past the sky and earth were not parted as we now see them, for Rangi the Sky Father closely embraced Papa the Earth Mother. Hence all was darkness between them, no light existed, nothing could mature, nothing could bear fruit, all things merely existed, or moved aimlessly about in a realm of darkness. When the
Cf. po= night; pouri=dark, darkness). The offspring numbered seventy, once told; all were males, and all were supernatural beings (atua).
The period known as the Po calls for some explanation here. This expression is used with a wide meaning, and, from our point of view, in a somewhat loose manner. It was only after many years’ study that the present writer was enabled to grasp its application. It is employed to denote—
In vernacular speech po denotes “night,” and the broad meaning of the term when employed as noted in the above four usages is “the unknown.”
The period prior to the birth of the primal offspring was divided by some Schools of Learning into twelve Po periods, two series of six each. The first series is as follows:—
During this period occurred the conception of the Earth Mother, Papa-tuanuku.
The second series comprises the following names:—
These six periods represent the period of labour of the Earth Mother. The last two denote the efforts made by her offspring to enter this world (taiao) by way of the narrow
ara namunamu ki taiao. There are two aspects of the account of the primal offspring dwelling in darkness. One of these describes those children as living on the body of the Earth Mother, whom the Sky Parent was closely embracing, hence no light existed between the bodies of those parents. The other rendering is that when the children were abiding in darkness they were not yet born; it was the pre-natal darkness they abode in. When born they entered the realm of light, the ao marama.
It was Ue-poto, one of the seventy children who first ventured out into the world, and who first beheld Light. That light was but a feeble glimmer, the light of phosphorescence (hinatore), such as is emitted by Moko-huruhuru (personified form of the glow worm). Ue-poto called his brethren to come forth to the outer world, a most desirable place, where pleasing breezes brought delight. They did so come forth, though Whiro and Uru-te-ngangana, and others were averse to entering the world of light, and never ceased to upbraid Tane for his act in leading them from the sheltered haven. On emerging from that haven the children encountered the tribulations of this world, for they were assailed by Wero-i-te-ninihi, by Kunawiri, by Maeke, and others (personified forms of Cold). These were the enemies of the offspring, and hence they clung closely to the sides of Papa, the Mother, that they might retain warmth.
The bright light known to mankind dwelling in this world was a slow development; it was an evolutionary process. The following is a list of terms describing the different phases of light arranged in the order in which they appeared:—
We are, however, anticipating the higher phases of light, and must return to relate the adventures of Tane and his numerous brethren.
The offspring soon became discontented with their lot in the world. The conditions of life were irksome and unpleasing, so cramped were they for space. This lack of space was the result of the close contact of their parents at that remote period, for Rangi still embraced Papa; sky and earth were close together. It was Tane who proposed to separate them, saying:—“Let us part our parents; let us force Rangi upward, suspend him on high, and let Papa lie in space.” Most of the children agreed to this course, but Whiro and some others objected, and would have nought to do with it. This forcible separation of sky and earth is spoken of as an act of rebellion on the part of the children towards their parents, as the first act of disobedence, the first wrong committed. Already a breach had occurred between Tane and Whiro, and this was inevitable. In order to make matters clear to the reader it will be well to explain at this stage that Tane is the personified form of light, while Whiro personifies darkness and evil.
Tane, Tu, Tangaroa and Tawhiri-matea were the leaders in the task of separating heaven and earth. That task proved to be a difficult one, so closely did the parents cling together in their great affection for each other. It was found to be necessary to sever the arms of Rangi ere he could be forced upward. The blood from his grievous wounds flowed over, and was absorbed by the body of Papa, hence the horu or red ochre found within her body even unto this day. At length Rangi was forced upward, and there supported by four toko (poles used as props). These toko are said, in one version of the myth, to be the four winds, but another version explains that they were rays of the sun, and the word toko bears the double meaning of “pole” and “ray of the sun.”
Deep grief now assailed Rangi and Papa, torn apart by their unfeeling offspring. Now was heard the wailing of the Earth Mother for her lost love, and ever, even unto this day, the first of all parents mourn their separation, and exchange tokens of affection for each other. For when you see rain and dew descending upon the body of Papa the Parentless, know
The full name of the Sky Parent is Rangi nui e tu nei, as denoting the great heavens standing above. The Earth Mother is Papa tu a nuku, which may be rendered as Papa extending afar. The earth is sometimes termed Tahuaroa, and also Papa-tiraharaha. The qualifying term of the latter name means “facing upward,” and so denotes her position, which was that of reclining on her back and so facing the Sky Parent, until she was turned over by command of Io. The word papa, in vernacular speech, carries the sense of flatness.
The seventy children of the primal parents were all of the male sex, and are probably all personifications, many assuredly are so. Uru-te-ngangana is connected with light; he is said to have had two wives, Moe-ahuru and Hine-turama, the first of whom gave birth to the sun and moon, while the latter produced the stars. One version makes Uru the son of Whiro, who personifies darkness and evil, so that here light emanated from darkness. Roiho and Roake, two other children of the primal parents, are attendants of Io in the uppermost heaven. Tawhirimatea personifies wind, and Tangaroa all fish. The latter is also known as Tangaroa-whakamau-tai, the Tide Controller, and he is assisted in that duty by Rona the Tide Controller, the woman in the moon of Maori myth. Kiwa controls the ocean, which is known as the Great Ocean of Kiwa, though it is personified in Hine-moana, the Ocean Maid. Te Iho-rangi is the personified form of rain, and Tu-matauenga represents war. Te Ikaroa personifies the Milky Way; Raka-maomao the wind, while Rongo is the patron of agriculture and peaceful arts, including peace binding in time of war. There is a considerable amount of evidence to show that Rongo is a personification of the moon. Tawhiri-rangi is connected with Tawhiri-matea of the winds; Punaweko was the origin of land birds; Hurumanu of sea birds, and Te Kuwatawata was appointed guardian of the entrance to the underworld.
aruhe, the edible rhizome of the common bracken (Pteris aquilina, var. esculenta), the most universal vegetable food of the Maori in former times.
Two important members of the Whatukura, or male attendants of Io in the uppermost heaven, are Rehua and Ruatau. They were employed by Io as messengers, and so visited the earth and other realms on their errands. We also hear of one Rehua who seems to have personified forests; at the Hawaiian Isles lehua was an old name for forest, while Rehua is also a star name, the summer star Antares.
Our task is now to scan an old-world myth as preserved by the far-spread Polynesian race; that version of it taught by the Maori conservers of unwritten lore. The old, old concept of a long-continued struggle between the forces of Light and Darkness, the well-known myth of Persia and many other lands, reappears here in the land of the Maori. In local story these forces were led by Tane and Whiro, personified forms of Light and Darkness, both being offspring of Rangi and Papa. In very early times these brothers disagreed. While Tane wished all the children to come forth from the close
Whiro also was angered at having to endure the cold and discomfort of the outer world, the open spaces. He objected to the separation of Rangi and Papa, to their limbs being severed, to the superior attitude of Tane, to his ascent to the heavens to obtain the three “baskets” of knowledge. Yet another cause did Whiro have for his opposition to Tane. Ruatau and Rehua, the two messengers of Io, came down to Maunga-nui (great mountain) and bade Tane and Tupai ascend it. They did so, whereupon they were conducted to the Wai o Rongo (waters of Rongo), where the sacred tohi rite was performed over them, as also the pure. In this baptismal ceremony they received the names of Tane-nui-a-Rangi (great Tane, offspring of Rangi) and Tupai-a-tau. The twain then returned earthward, while Rehua and Ruatau returned to the realm of Io.
The above incident increased the ill-feeling of Whiro towards his younger brother Tane, and so the rivalry between them continued. In this struggle between the personified forms of natural phenomena we shall see a parallel to the old Egyptian myth wherein the contest between the forces of Nature was controlled by the sun.
At a certain time Io the Permanent one sent Ruatau and Aitupawa, two of his attendants, down to this world in order to ascertain which member of the primal offspring would be selected to ascend to the realm of Io in order to obtain the wananga. This term, as we have seen, denotes occult knowledge and arts, high-class esoteric lore. These celestial messengers visited Tu-te-aniwaniwa, the abode of Whiro and
wananga, that he would ascend thereto by scaling the sides of the heavens. But Aitu-pawa said: “Not so. It cannot be accomplished in that way.” Tane declared that he would make the ascent, that he would ascend by way of the Ara-tiatia, the Toi-huarewa of the offspring of his brother Tawhiri-matea. These two terms are sacerdotal or honorific names for the whirlwind. Many of the brethren were in favour of Tane being selected to carry out the important task at the behest of Io. Whiro was again angered by this selection of Tane.
Tane now decided that a fit place must be prepared in which to preserve the sacred wananga, when obtained from Io. He proposed to proceed to Rangi-tamaku (the second of the twelve heavens) in order to procure the semblance of the Whare kura of that realm, which house had been erected by one Nuku-te-aio, father of Rua-i-te-pukenga (one of the personified forms of knowledge). It was a house of elaborate structure, and provided with two windows, one on either side of the doorway. Thus it was that the first Whare wananga was constructed in this world. It was named Wharekura. Other important houses were also here erected during that period, such as Hui-te-ana-nui, which was a mata-wha (four-eyed), that is to say a house of four windows, two at each end. Another was Haowhenua, the house of Rongo, in which was conserved knowledge pertaining to the art of agriculture, and all food supplies. The house of Tu was Roroku-o-te-rangi, an extremely tapu place, in which the knowledge of all gods, ritual, and implements connected with war, was preserved.
Tane was now prepared to commence his ascent, but meanwhile Whiro had already begun to scale the side of the heavens, as he wished to obtain the prize himself, and so confuse Tane. Tane now began his ascent, accompanied by Tawhiri-matea (personified form of wind), by Tamakaka and Tupai. They ascended by way of the Ara-tiatia (whirlwind); they were borne upward by the Whanau puhi (the Wind Children). Other brethren now joined the company, including Tukapua (personified form of clouds). Whiro reached Rangi-
On reaching the tenth heaven Tane underwent the pure rite, a purificatory, and, in this form, a tapu endowing ceremony, to prepare him for entrance to the supernal realm. All but two of his attendants now returned to Papa, the Earth Mother, the remaining two accompanied him to the eleventh heaven. Tane now proceeded to the Pumotomoto, the entrance to the uppermost heaven, where he was met by Rehua and other members of the Whatukura, attendants of Io. His two companions now retired to the eleventh heaven to await his return. Meanwhile Whiro the Dark One, dour and sullen, was compelled to desist in his attempt to scale the bespaced heavens; he awaited the return of Tane in order to again assail him.
Tane was now conducted by Ruatau, Puhao-rangi, Oho-mai-rangi, and others, to the Toi o nga rangi, the uppermost of the twelve heavens, and to the place called the Wai o Rongo, or Wai o Rongomai. Here another pure rite was performed over him that rendered him even more intensely tapu than before. This name of Wai-o-Rongo appears to have been applied to certain waters connected with Rongo, that is to say with the moon, which orb is closely connected with water in both Polynesian and Asiatic myths. Here, in this ceremony, Tane received several new names, as follows:—
The first of these names entitled him the Parent; the second connects him with occult knowledge; the third with welfare
Tane was then conducted to Matangi-reia, where Great Io awaited him. Io now accosted Tane, employing a peculiar phrase employed in punctilious intercourse: “Na wai taua?” (From whom are we?—“descended” understood), by means of which phrase a native of rank politely enquired the name and status of a person. Tane then informed Io that he was the offspring of Rangi and Papa, and that he had come to crave a boon, namely, the three “baskets” of sacred and occult knowledge. Io then conducted Tane to the sacred place known as the Rauroha, the special domain of the Supreme Being, where the male and female attendants, styled the Whatukura and Mareikura, were assembled. Here, for the third time, Tane was subjected to the pure ceremony, after which he was given the three “baskets” of knowledge, and two highly sacred whatu atua, or supernatural stones. These stones were endowed with marvellous virtues. They gratified the desires of man, and were employed in a ceremony performed over scholars who had passed through the Whare wananga. Such scholars were seated on them during the rite, and applied their lips to the stones when the ceremonial chaunts concluded. Through later times these stones have been known as the Whatu kura a Tane and Whatu kura a Tangaroa. The three kete o te Wananga, or “baskets” of knowledge, have already been described.
Aitupawa, Rehua and others of the attendants of Io, then escorted Tane and his acquired treasures downward to the eleventh heaven. There his companions awaited him, and there the multitude of the Wind Children rejoined him, they who dwelt in the Wind House Mairiiri-kapua at Tihi o Manono, under the care of their elders, and whose playground is Tahuaroa, or Marae-nui, the vast ocean expanses.
On reaching the ninth heaven in their descent, Tane and his companions were again assailed by the emissaries of Whiro, by insects and birds. Again the swift Wind Children came to the rescue and dispersed the hordes of Whiro. They took many captives and brought them down to this world,
kea, and some other birds.
It was now that the face of the heavens was marked by reddened clouds, a token to the brethren in this world that Tane had succeeded in his great quest. Whiro alone was angered by that success. Two of the brethren now seized two famous shell trumpets and sounded a ringing blast that carried to all creatures in the world of light and life the knowledge that Tane was returning to earth with his great prize.
All now assembled at Wharekura, and in that edifice the three “baskets” and two stones were deposited at the rear end of the house. Whiro demanded that they should be handed over to him, but this course was objected to, and the darkness of disappointment and anger descended upon Whiro the Tipua.
We must now describe an important institution by means of which order is preserved throughout the universe, according to Maori myth. This was the appointment of certain supernormal beings as guardians of the different realms of the universe, and who, as acting in that capacity, were known as Poutiriao. Their duties were to regulate all things, forces, activities, realms and beings.
Ere the Whatukura returned to the realm of Io, Ruatau said to Tupai, one of the brethren: “Preserve the treasure within Wharekura, and let twelve guardians be appointed to care for it. Bear in mind that there are twelve heavens, twelve divisions of the year, twelve companies of male denizens, and twelve of female denizens of the twelve heavens. Therefore do you and Tane i te wananga select ten others to act with you.” Having made this arrangement Ruatau and the other attendants returned to the realm of Io the Eternal.
Te Kuwatawata and two others were appointed as guardians of Hawaiki-nui, otherwise known as Hawaiki-rangi. This is the name of a wondrous edifice with four entrances, wherein the spirits of the dead assemble, and from which they pass to one of the two spirit worlds. It is situated on the summit of a mountain in the old homeland of the race, far away beneath the setting sun.
Uru-te-ngangana, Roiho and Roake were appointed guardians of realms celestial, of the heavenly bodies.
Kiwa, Tangaroa and Kaukau were appointed guardians of the realm of Hine-moana, the Ocean Maid.
The Poutiriao, or guardians and regulators of the elements, of winds, rain, clouds, mist, lightning, thunder, frost, etc., were Tukapua, Te Ihorangi and Tama-te-uira. (These are the personified forms of clouds, rain and lightning.)
Maiki-roa, Tu, and others were appointed as controllers of all forms of disease. The numerous Maiki brethren are all included in this dread company.
Te Ikaroa (personified form of the Milky Way) and two others were appointed as regulators of the seasons.
Rongomai-tu-waho and others were appointed guardians and controllers of all denizens of the ocean and of the fresh waters of the earth.
Kekerewai and two others were appointed as guardians of the earth and spirit world, and of all the offspring of the primal parents and their issue, which includes all living creatures on earth.
Tane and two others were appointed supervisors of all realms, and all the Poutiriao, or guardians, to preserve peace and harmony among them and among all other things in all realms. (Thus was harmony preserved, not only among all living creatures, but also among all things deemed inanimate by us, as the heavenly bodies, trees, stones, etc.) Also these supervisors reported periodically on the condition of all things in all realms to the Whatukura, who made such reports known to Io the Parent.
Rongo and two others were appointed as guardians and preservers of fertility in all things. The powers and faculties of germination and reproduction were their care.
Tupai and two others were appointed as guardians and preservers of the institutions of mana and tapu, of gods and sacred places, and the ritual pertaining to such.
Such were the duties of the Poutiriao appointed by command from Io of the Hidden Face. They reported to the Whatukura the condition of all things.
In the legend of the war between Tane and Whiro, the great contest between Light and Darkness, we have
atua whiro, and the latter word also denotes a person of evil character.
In New Zealand, as in Polynesia, the doings of Whiro the demon have become confused with those of one Whiro, an old-time Polynesian voyager who came to New Zealand and here settled. It requires great care to separate the incidents related, and to credit them to their proper sources.
The final defeat of Whiro led to his seeking refuge in the Po, the gloomy underworld, yet the old contest between him and Tane is still continued. For Whiro leagued with Ruaumoko, who still abides within the body of the Earth Mother, and together they assail mankind, the offspring of Tane, man who dwells in the world of light and life. Ruaumoko is the author of earthquakes and all volcanic action, and it is by means of those violent activities that he assails and endeavours to destroy mankind. But the most relentless and effective emissaries of Whiro are the dread Maiki brethren. These are Maiki-nui, Maiki-roa, Maiki-kunawhea, and others, all of whom are the personified forms of sickness and disease. This dread and grisly company ever assails mankind, ever wages ceaseless warfare against the descendants of Tane in the world of life. The Maiki clan are denizens of the subterranean world, where they dwell within Tai-whetuki, the House of Death. Before their ceaseless attacks men perish in countless numbers; they flow like water down the current of death to Rarohenga, the underworld. Such is the cause of death in the
Ki a koe, e Whiro!” (To thee, O Whiro!).
It was in Tai-whetuki, the House of Death, that the dread art of black magic originated. For when the Pure rite was about to be performed over Hine-ahu-one, the first woman, Tu said: “Let it be so performed that man may possess courage.” But here Rongo interposed: “Let man be endowed with the qualities of ihi and maru.” By these terms are meant ability, industry, also benevolence and hospitality. Said Whiro: “Be it so; then for me to uphold the poautinitini.” This expression denotes affliction, disease, death, the grievous troubles that assail mankind. All phases of thought and action, all human activities, come under one of the three expressions, ihi, maru and poau tinitini. It will now be understood that the abiding word of the Maori is ever: “Ko Whiro te putake o te kino o te ao.” (Whiro is the origin of evil in the world.)
Now the representative of Whiro in this world is the lizard; the lizard represents death. This explains the great dread that the Maori folk entertain for the lizard, and why seeing a lizard is deemed a very serious omen. It is the emissary of Whiro and the harbinger of death. When the gods decide to destroy man they do so by introducing a lizard into his body, and that creature devours his vitals and so causes death.
Such is the Maori version of the very ancient myth concerning the contest between Light and Darkness, a myth that obtained in Asia at a very early period. In Celtic mythology Light and Life were arrayed against Darkness and Death as in Maori lore; the so-called gods of each side strove against each other. We shall have a similar contest to describe when we come to deal with Maui and the ex-Dawn Maid of Maori story, for there are two different tales connected with this subject.
In Egyptian myth the struggle between the forces of Nature was controlled by the sun. The power of darkness was personified in the great snake Apopis, who was defeated and cut in pieces, always, however, to recover and renew the strife. We find an analogous myth in Maori lore, wherein Maui, who personifies Light (Cf. Moui of Egyptian myth) slays the great eel Tuna, who had meddled with Hina (female personification of the moon), and cuts him into pieces as he crawls over the nine skid way. From his tail and head, however, sprang the eels we find in the sea and rivers.
A time came when the grief of Papa, the Earth Mother, on account of her separation from Rangi, her old-time love, came to be known to Io in the uppermost heaven. The sound of her wailing was borne upward, hence Io sent Ruatau down to seek the cause of the ceaseless lamentation. Io now commanded that the Earth Mother be turned over, so that she might no longer gaze upon her lost love Rangi. This overturning is known as the Hurihanga a Mataaho, the overturning of (by) Mataaho. It has long puzzled students of Maori lore as to who Mataaho might be, but a native adept has told us that the name is in full Io-mataaho, which is one of the names of the Supreme Being. Other versions, however, make it clear that some experts believed Mataaho to be a different being to Io-mataaho. Even so was the Earth Mother turned over, so that she lay face down to Rarohenga, the underworld, hence man now dwells on her back instead of on her breast, as of yore. When she was so turned over, her youngest child, Ruaumoko, was still at her breast, or, as another version has it, yet unborn. This child she was allowed to retain in her solitude. The brothers of Ruaumoko resolved to grant him some comfort in his dark realm, hence they gave him the boon of fire. This fire was obtained for the purpose from Raka-hore, who is the personified form of rock. Thus we see that the Maori was aware of the fact that fire can be obtained from stone. This subterranean fire is known as ahi tipua (supernatural fire) and ahi komau, or buried fire. It is seen in volcanic action, and its effects are observed in the thermal district of Rotorua. Ruaumoko is responsible for all volcanic outbursts and earthquakes. The first syllable of his name is the common term for an earthquake; it means “to shake.”
The primal offspring now found themselves in a more desirable realm in which to abide. Previous to the overturning of the great Mother, the space between sky and earth was never clear. Clouds, rain, mist, sleet, dew, hail and snow were incessant: all these were produced by the ceaseless mourning of the stricken parents; they were emanations caused by grief, the tears of grief produced them. But now Rangi and Papa could no longer look upon each other, and so, since that time, their grief is evident at intervals only. The universe now became known as Tahora-nui-atea (vast open and clear expanse). The world is known as the Ao-turoa, the abiding realm.
The primal offspring had been dwelling in this world during the occurrences already described, but dwelling in a realm of gloom. Dim indeed was the light that existed in the world, and now the desire grew to increase that light and so render life more pleasant.
Tane was responsible for the clothing of the body of the Sky Parent with clouds. Previous to that time the body of Rangi had been naked. Tane despatched Tawhirimatea (wind) to procure the Cloud Children, who sprang from the warmth and perspiration of the body of the Earth Mother. And so the Wind Children were sent to fetch them. They brought Ao-nui and Ao-roa (Great Cloud, Long Cloud) and all the numerous Cloud Children to serve as a garment to cover the body of the Sky Parent. Such are the clouds above us.
The body of the Earth Mother was also covered, and the garment bestowed upon her was composed of vegetation, which protected and warmed her.
The origin of the heavenly bodies is another myth that has several versions. We have seen that Tane and Tama-nui-te-ra are both names for the sun, while Rongo and Hina represent the moon. In like manner Te Ikaroa represents the Milky Way. All these are personifications, and three of them were offspring of the primal parents, but the origin of the heavenly bodies themselves is quite another story. The version taught among the Takitumu tribes is as follows:—
Here we have Uru-te-ngangana, the Gleaming One, son of Rangi and Papa, and evidently a personification, who took to himself two wives, Moe-ahuru and Hine-turama. By the first he begat “The Red Sun” and “The Waxing Moon,” and by the second the stars. Hine-turama evidently represents some form of light; rama signifies a torch, turama “to give light to,” also “illuminated.” Moreover, she is said to have been a daughter of Tane, the great Light Giver. In another version we have:—
This looks like a case of different parentage, but native experts tell us that Tongatonga and Turangi (the Sky Stander) are two other names of Uru-te ngangana, and that Hine-te-ahuru is the same as Moe-ahuru. In this version, however, Uru, alias Tongatonga, appears, not as a son of Rangi, but as a grandson, his immediate progenitor being Whiro, who personifies darkness, hence Light emanated from Darkness. Rona is said by some authorities to have been the child of the above couple; she is the conductor of the moon and a controller of tides. In popular myth she devours, or maltreats, the moon, and so causes the waning of that orb.
The stars are often termed the ra ririki, the little suns, and they are alluded to as the younger relatives of the sun and moon, who, in conjunction with Te Ikaroa, the Milky Way, are their guardians. The heavenly bodies are termed the Whanau-marama, the Shining Ones, or givers of light; they are the Children of Light. Their guardians preserve order among them, but occasionally they jostle each other, and one may be seen to fall from his place; such is the native explanation of meteors.
The sun is said to have had two wives, Hine-raumati (Summer Maid) and Hine-takurua (Winter Maid); he lives half the year with each. The realm of the Winter Maid is the ocean, her task is to conserve fish; the Summer Maid is concerned with the cultivation of food products, and the fruits of the forest. At the time called the takanga o te ra (changing of the sun, that is to say the winter solstice) the sun abandons
In remote times all the Children of Light dwelt with their parents at Maunga-nui (Great Mountain). There the ruddy sun, Pale Hina, the little suns and Rona, all roamed about the Strand at Oroku. The Shining Ones are sometimes termed the adornments of the house of Tane-te-waiora. This name of Tane is the one that betokens him as the origin of light, while the heavens above are alluded to as the “house of Tane.”
The gloom of primal light was trying to the children of Rangi and Papa; in a murky realm they ever abode. Hence it was resolved to seek more light, to enlighten the body of the Earth Mother and the breast of the Sky Parent. The thought came to Tane that he would procure the Whanau-marama, the Shining Ones, and so bring light into the world. Even so Tane proceeded to Maunga-nui and obtained the light-giving offspring of his brother Uru. All the Children of Light were placed in a “basket” (i.e., receptacle) and that receptacle, we are told, was the Milky Way. One of the children was left hanging outside the basket; this was the one called Autahi (Canopus). The Star Children and their elders were placed in a canoe named Uruao, generally known as
Tane and his brethren now saw that the body of Rangi was well lighted, and his face could be plainly seen. His
It was then found that, when the ruddy sun moved abroad, the heat was intense. The body of the Earth Mother became dried up, the dust arose so that the face of man could not be seen. The body of Papa, the Earth Mother, was not sufficiently covered to enable her to endure the intense heat. Then Tane commanded the Shining Ones to rearrange their movements:—“Let the red sun take the lead and move in front; let the waxing moon follow behind him; let the little suns be separated, all following the leading of the sun, even that we may obtain sleep.” This command was obeyed, and so were day and night divided. The day was assigned to the red sun, and the night to the moon, the Milky Way, and their young relatives, the little suns. At this time also was Rona appointed guardian of the waxing moon, and all these lesser ones followed behind the shadow of their elder, the red sun.
It was soon found that the heat of the sun was still too great for comfort, and the offspring of the Earth Mother moaned in their anguish. Tane then arranged that the red sun should be moved to the back of Rangi, leaving the lesser ones on his breast. But when the sun moved towards the head of Rangi, the Sky Parent cried aloud, so fierce was the heat, for this was the season of summer. So the course of the red sun was again altered, and then all was well. When the sun moves towards the legs of Rangi, then the winter is with us; when it moves towards his head, then summer has come.
Then Tane spake to Tawhirimatea and to Tukapua (personifications of winds and clouds), and arrangements were made to accommodate the Wind Children and the Cloud Children. The former were located at the Tihi o Manono; the latter were placed in the Cloud House, wherein abide Hine-kapua, the Cloud Maid, and the whole of the Cloud Children. At times these folk leave their abodes, and so we see the Whanau-puhi, the Wind Children, pursuing and harrying the Cloud Maid and the Whanau-kapua, the Cloud Children, in
It was now seen that the world was a desirable place in which to dwell, that grateful conditions obtained on the far-spread body of the Earth Mother. Hence Uru the Gleaming One said to his brothers: “How are we to generate offspring to occupy the World of Light? Let us seek the female element that we may beget a race of beings to assume our forms, and so people the enduring world of light around us.” Thus it was proposed that the female element should be obtained from among the female denizens of the heavens, but Uru objected, and explained that all those females were supernatural beings, and, by mating with similar beings, they could not possibly produce the ira tangata (human life, mortal life, life as possessed by man). The result of such unions would but perpetuate the ira atua (supernatural life, such life as is possessed by gods). It was desired that man, a mortal race, should be produced to inhabit the fair earth. It has already been explained that all the offspring of Rangi and Papa were of the male sex, and that all were supernatural beings. It was clear that all the denizens of the heavens were of a similar nature, and therefore the ira tangata must be sought in the lower world. The female element, of a nature lower than that of the gods, must be sought in the realm of the Earth Mother.
We have now to speak of Tane in his important character as the Fertiliser, the personification of procreative power, as the progenitor of vegetation and of man. We are told that the pagan Semites identified the active force in Nature with the sun, and the passive force with the earth. This is precisely the Maori concept, but ever he deemed the female sex somewhat inferior to the male. The male sex originated with the gods, is of supernatural origin, but the first female of the ira tangata was fashioned from a portion of the Earth Mother; ever does woman bear the brand of her inferior origin.
Tane and his brothers now commenced their long search for the uha, the female element that was destined to produce man the mortal. The brothers separated and went their various ways of diligent search. To far regions they went, and many realms they traversed, far and wide they roamed athwart the body of the Earth Mother. They explored the
It was Tane who sought out certain female beings by whom he strove to become the progenitor of man. It was found that reptiles produced eggs, which was considered to be an unsuitable mode of reproduction for them; hence it was decided that reptiles should be viviparous, and that the production of eggs should be confined to birds. An exception was made in the case of the tuatara (Sphenodon punctatum). The first egg was formed by Peketua, who took it to Tane and asked him what he should do with it. Tane replied, “Give it life,” and that egg produced the reptile called tuatara, which is thus allied to birds. Punaweko formed another egg that produced land birds, while Hurumanu fashioned another that produced sea birds. But the female of the ira tangata was not found. Tane then mated with one Parauri, a female, who produced the koko and other forest birds. These were fed on the parasites of the heads of Rehua and Tunuku, but they did not flourish. They were then fed on those of the heads of the younger folk, of Maire, and Miro, and Kahika, and Tutu, and Toro, and Mako (all names of trees the berries of which are eaten by birds). All these folk dwell within the Great Forest of Tane.
Tane mated with many female beings in his great desire to beget man. He took Apunga, who produced small plants. He took Mumuhanga, who produced the totara tree. He took Te Pu-whakahara, who produced the maire and puriri trees. He took Rerenoa, who produced epiphytic plants. He took Tutoro-whenua, who produced Haumia (personified form of the edible rhizome of the bracken, Pteris aquilina var. esculenta). He took Hine-tu-pari-maunga, the Mountain Maid, and begat Para-whenua-mea (personified form of water). He took Tauwhare-kiokio, who produced the different species of tree ferns. He took Tu-kapua, who produced the tawai tree. He took Haere-awaawa, who produced the weka (a bird), and so on. Such were the acts of Tane the Fertiliser; he impregnated all female forces and natures, but the issue in all cases did not accord with desire; the goal of the long search was not reached; the ira tangata was not discovered.
The brothers returned from their fruitless search, and assembled at Wharekura in order to discuss new lines of search. It was now that Roiho called down to Tane, and enquired: “What is it ye seek, O Tane?” Tane replied, saying: “We seek the way to the female element, such is our task.” Then Roiho and Roake and Haepuru, denizens of the heavens, said to Tane: “Proceed to the Strand at Kurawaka, for at that place exists the female element in its virginity; that element is in a state of tapu, for it is the very seed of man. Fashion the female at the puke (Mons Veneris) of Papa the Earth Mother.”
Now Tane and his companions proceeded to the place indicated, and there Tane took a portion of the body of the Earth Mother and moulded it into the form of a female, an image fashioned in the form of himself, but formed of earth and void of life. It now remained for Tane to endow that figure with life, to implant the manawa ora (breath of life) in its nostrils, mouth and ears. Then the vital human breath came forth, the eyelids opened, the eyes looked, the damp, mist-like breath issued from the mouth, a sneeze broke from the nostrils—sneeze thou living soul in the world of life; progeny to the gods is secured, the female element is found, the ira tangata exists. The long quest for the female element was now closed: Woman had entered the world.
The newly-formed Woman was conducted to the sacred place of rites, where certain ceremonies were performed over her to dissipate the intense tapu resulting from the act of the demiurge Tane. It is explained that the organs, the blood, the breath of life, and the wairua (soul, spirit) implanted in the lifeless form were procured from Io the Supreme Being. Io and Rehua provided the mind, while Punaweko furnished the hair. It was now that this maid, the first woman, was given the name of Hine-ahu-one, the Earth-formed Maid. She possessed the nature, the organs, to enable her to bring man into the world; the welfare of mankind in the enduring world emanated from this Maid and from Tane the Parent.
It was now decided that Tane should beget man, and Tiki-ahua was called upon to assist in the great task of bringing mortal man into the world. As he did so Tupai intoned the necessary invocatory formula by virtue of which Tane and
karakia that called upon Tiki to perform his task, and which had the effect of causing Hine to conceive. Then Roiho and Roake repeated another to endow Tane with the necessary powers to enable him to beget man, the ira tangata. The end of this act was the condition known as Te Matenga o Tiki—the Death of Tiki. Since the days of Tane these ritual formulæ have been employed as what we would term a marriage service, and as a charm to cause women to conceive. They are exceedingly tapu recitations.
On the completion of the above act the Pure rite was performed over Tane and Hine, and they also underwent ceremonial immersion. They then proceeded to Wharekura, where the tapu was lifted from them, and they performed the Ngau paepae, a peculiar rite to be described anon. The Earth Formed Maid was then conducted to the house named Hui-te-ana-nui, that had been constructed for her use. It was a house elaborately decorated with carved designs.
In course of time Hine gave birth to a child, who was named Hine-titama. Other children were born to her in after days, all being females, the most remarkable of whom were Hine-te-uira (The Lightning Maid, personified form of lightning) and Hine-kapua (The Cloud Maid, personification of clouds). Tane-matua then took Hine-titama, his eldest daughter, to wife, by whom he had several female children, of whom the most renowned was Hine-rau-wharangi, the personified form of growth in the vegetable world.
It is said that Hine-rau-wharangi was born in the Aonui month of the Orongonui season, about our June. When the iho (umbilical cord) of the child came away mother and child were conducted to the porch of the house Hui-te-ananui. The people collected on the plaza, and Tupai, taking the infant in his arms, recited a tapu formula over it. Then came the Maioha ceremony; all the people stood up to greet mother and child. The next performance was that of the rite termed Tohi ururangi, which was carried out by a priest standing in the running waters of a stream.
At a certain time Hine-titama enquired of Tane as to who her father was. When she was told to ask the posts of the house Hui-te-ananui she knew the truth, and so overcome
Hine-titama, by means of potent charms, caused her children to sleep soundly, and also weakened the powers of Tane should he pursue her. She went by way of Whiti-a-naunau to Poutere-rangi, where the entrance to the lower world is. At the entrance she found one Kuwatawata, the guardian of the Tatau o te Po (The Gates of the Underworld). He enquired: “Whither go you?” Hine replied: “Let me pass; I go to the underworld.” The guardian endeavoured to dissuade her: “Turn back ere it is too late. The world of life and welfare is behind you, the spirit world before you. Return to the ao marama (world of light).” But Hine said: “Not so. I go to the lower world, the realm of the unknown, there to protect the welfare of my children of the Ao-turoa (the upper world).”
Now here we have the cause of the welfare of the human spirit after the death of the body. The wairua (soul, spirit) does not perish. It is protected by Hine-titama in the underworld She it is who protects our spiritual welfare. The mother of our race is the saviour of the human soul.
Ere she descended to Rarohenga, Hine-titama turned toward the world of life she was leaving for ever, and saw Tane following her, weeping as he came. Then Hine looked her last upon Tane and said to him: “Return, O Tane! to our offspring. I have abandoned the upper world as a realm for you, my realm shall be the Po beneath us. Turn back; for you to bring our children up to the light of day, for me to
hoa, caused the Pomum Adami to appear in the throat of Tane as a token of their relations to each other, a token that is seen in all men, but no women, even to the present day. Then Hine-titama turned to the portals of the lower world, and, passing through the Tatau o te Po, descended to the spirit world to take up her endless task.
The name of this first-born daughter of Tane the Parent and the Earth Formed Maid had been Hine-titama in the upper world. When she took up her abode in Rarohenga, the subterranean spirit world, she discarded that name and adopted that of Hine-nui-te-Po. She was now the Great Dame of the Po, or spirit world, the important being of that realm. She had constituted herself guardian of the souls of men, protector and champion of the spirits of the dead as against dread Whiro and his henchmen. Tane cares for his descendants in the upper world, but when decay and dissolution come to them, they then pass to the spirit world of Rarohenga, there to be guarded ever by great Hine.
Now to place Hine-titama in her true position in our records of Maori lore. Who was this fair Maid whose beauty is described by the Maori in such glowing terms, who sprang from the loins of Tane the Great One, to be wooed by him and pursued across the vast realm of Papa even unto the bounds of night? She is the Maid of whom we have all heard, whose beauty has caused, throughout all time, the eye of man to kindle, the heart of man to rejoice. For, even as Tane represents the red sun that gleams in fair skies, so does his daughter represent the soul-filling beauty that Tane casts athwart the form of the Sky Parent. These glorious hues are reflected by other offspring of Tane, by Hine-kapua, the Cloud Maid, by Hine-moana, the Ocean Maid, Hine-makohu, the Mist Maid, and by the great form of Hine-maunga, the Mountain Maid. The vast realm of Watea is lightened by her beauty, the old Earth Mother responds to her gracious presence, the very denizens of the twelve heavens welcome her fair form. Hine-titama is the Dawn Maid.
When our fair one fled westward, Tane followed her, as he must follow all dawns. Hine retired before him, as all
Here I feel impelled to quote a description of the Maori personified form of dawn, as given by an old native some fifty-five years ago. It illustrates an interesting phase of Maori mentality, and his remarkable genius for personification.
“This is Hine-titama, she who was known as Hine-nuite-Po when she retired to the underworld. Truly was she a woman of surpassing charm. Her eyes were like unto the flame of a glowing fire, and her form was of great beauty. Her body gleamed with a ruddy hue, her skin was smooth as the Parearohi is the personification of the quivering appearance of heated air, as seen in summer.karengo seaweed, her face was like unto a summer day, calm and beautiful, and her breast resembled the placid ocean that glows at sunset in the eighth moon. When she came forth from her abode bright beyond compare was the light of her eyes. When she disrobed and went forth to bathe, verily her skin resembled the breast of the beautiful koroirangi bird. and the shimmering beauty of ParearohiKo Hine-titama koe, matawai ana te whatu i te tirohanga’ (You are like Hinetitama, the eye glistens when gazing upon you).”
Such was the description of the Dawn Maid given by the neolithic Maori, such the concept of a cannibal folk, such the mentality of barbaric man. The sages have told us that the whole of the seventy offspring of the primal parents had issue. The offspring of some were supernatural beings, those of others were stones of different kinds, or insects and reptiles.
There is another myth concerning the origin of man to be considered. In a version that occupies a secondary position
ira tangata, is traced to Tu-matauenga, a brother of Tane, who is one of the most important of the secondary gods, inasmuch as he is the tutelary being connected with the art of war. I am inclined to believe that Tu personifies the setting sun, and hence is connected with bloodshed. The version to be described seems to be a second-class myth as it were, a popular authropogenic myth; apparently it was not taught by the superior school of learning. It will be explained that those who taught that Tiki was the first man were assuredly not conversant with the inner meaning of Maori authropogenic myths.
The following account of the popular version of the origin of man was recorded by the late Colonel Gudgeon in Vol. XIV. of the Journal of the Polynesian Society. Tu-matau-enga decided that supernatural beings were not fitted to populate this world, and so he set about introducing the ira tangata, or mortal life. In doing so he did not actually beget man as Tane begat Hine-titama. He created the first man and that man was the progenitor of the human race. He fashioned an image after his own form from earth, and deposited it at a tuahu, a mound formed of earth, in which had been inserted two small green branchlets that represented life and death. By means of certain rites and his own marvellous powers he endowed that image with life. This living person of the male sex was named Tiki; it was he who became the father of the human race. The name of the being he took to wife is not generally known, but is said by some to have been Io-wahine (female Io). At the time when Colonel Gudgeon published his paper we had not the evidence concerning the identity of Tiki that we now possess. The Colonel was evidently not satisfied with explanations furnished by the natives, and stated that he had formed the opinion that Tiki was the personified form of the life principle. This was a remarkably shrewd guess, for we now possess clear evidence that Tiki is the personified form of the male organ of reproduction. In popular myth he is described either as the first man, or as the maker of the first man.
We have now seen how man, mortal man, the ira tangata, was brought into the world. The fashioning of the first man or woman from earth was an old world concept; such myths
The cosmogonic genealogies of New Zealand and Polynesia are interesting productions, inasmuch as they show us how these barbaric folk strove to understand Nature and sought to learn the origin of the universe and of man. In the superior versions of such conceptions we observe evidence of mental powers of no mean order.
In Indian myth, the sun marries Ushas, the Dawn, which recalls Tane's search for the uha, or female element, and his taking Hine-titama to wife.
Myth and religion inseparable—Superior myths and folk tales—Explanatory myths numerous—History and myth intermingle—Widespread myths-Evolution of myths—Examples—Symbolical myths—Confusion in Polynesian myths—Nature myths—Animatism—Rehua and inanga—The Maori and abstract thought—The primal offspring—Rongo-ma-Tane—Tane and the sun—Sun and moon personifications—Rongo and moon—Moon and agriculture—Rongomai—Rongo-nui-a-tau—Rongo-maui—Moon and water—Moon and fertility—Rona and the moon—Hina and moon—Hine-te-iwaiwa—The tiki pendant—The Waiora a Tane—Crescent symbol—Hine-korako—Maui and Tuna the eel—Ira the eel god of India—Puhi—The feats of Maui—Maui and the sun—Maui the fisher of lands—Maui and Mahuika—Maui slays the Fire Children—Maui and the Queen of Death—The Mokoroa-i-ata—Maui and Rohe—Deluge myths—Fire myths—Wind myths—The Wind Children—The Snow Children—The Cloud Children—Ocean myths—The Ocean Maid and her offspring—The Tide Controllers—The Plaza of Hine-moana—Rainbow myths—Uenuku and the Mist Maid—Origin of Rainbow—Celestial visitors to earth—The Rainbow Maid dwells on the plaza of Hine-moana—Lighthing myths—The rua koha—Controllers of the elements—The Cloud Maid—The Cloud House—Origin of stones—The Sand Maid protects the Earth Mother—The Greenstone Folk—Myths pertaining to greenstone—The Sandstone Maid assails the Greenstone Folk—Rata and the enchanted tree—Mataora visits the underworld—The Maori genius for personification—Personified forms of natural phenomena; of natural products; of qualities—Folk tales—Battle of the birds The Fish Tribes attack Man—The struggle between dogs and lizards—Taniwha or monsters—Folk tales introduced—The tuoro Sea monsters subservient to man—Ocean demons—Marakihau Tipua—The uruuru whenua rite—Tribal banshee—Tutaua, the singing tree—Mountain lore—Folk tales—Hinepoupou—Cæsarian operation—Rua-kapanga—River myths—Mythical forest denizens—Fables—Fairy folk—Superstitions—Omens—Dreams—The lizard—Right and left sides—Wairua protects man—Fear of spirits—Cause of degeneration—A watch viewed as a demon—Maori and European superstitions.
We have now to deal with one of the more interesting phases of Maori lore. It is true that we have, in scanning his cosmogony and anthropogeny, surveyed some of his most interesting myths, but then no true Maori will admit that they are myths. He looks upon them as being relations of actual occurrences, even as we still place faith in old Babylonian or Sumerian concepts of the origin of man and of sin. It is the mixture of myth and religion that forces the writer to treat these two subjects as being inseparable, when dealing with such a people as the Maori. atua, or gods. They are the secondary or departmental gods of the Polynesian pantheon. It is when we come to deal with the folk tales of a people, that a line can be drawn between myth and religion.
The higher class myths of the Maori, such as those described in the previous chapter, illustrate a type not found among races of low culture. They bear the mark of a comparatively high plane of thought, and are the result of universal personification of natural phenomena, the higher phases of animism. Many explanatory myths are evolved by such folk as the Polynesians, and undoubtedly the religious spirit has entered into the higher conceptions of the mythmakers’ minds. We recognise, however, wide differences in native myths, for they range from superior cosmogonic concepts and interesting mythopoetic allegories, down to puerile folk and demon lore. The relation of secondary myths and folk tales found quite an important place in the social enjoy-
korero purakau, and korero tara. Some of them are tales or myths heard in far lands, others are of local origin. Many contain a moral in some form, such as the perils of transgressing the laws of tapu. An old sage has told us that the story of Hine-poupou swimming across Cook Straits is simply a tale related to children in order to render them fearless in the water.
We notice another attribute of some of these oft-told tales, namely, that genuine accounts of actual events, such as voyages, have become encrusted with myth. I deem it highly probable that the strory of the voyage of Rata is that of a genuine expedition from the eastern Pacific into Melanesia, possibly the Fiji group. Into this story the marvellous has entered, and so we have such impossible occurrences as the re-erection of the tree felled by Rata. In the accounts of the voyages of Whiro, Tura, and others, we note the introduction of weird folk who dwelt in trees and knew not the use of fire, of strange peoples among whom natural birth was unknown, but all infants entered the world through the medium of the Cæsarian operation.
The superior myths of the Maori have evidently been introduced from Polynesia, if not from still further afield. This may also be said of some of the folk tales which are encountered in northern isles. Attention will be drawn to instances of such transferences. Certain myths, such as that of the Sky Parents and Earth Mother, are of world-wide occurrence, and were probably evolved in different lands. On the other hand myths may have been carried long distances even in remote times by seafaring peoples. Indirect contact has effected much in past times. At a time when our forefathers dared not sail out of sight of land the Polynesian voyagers were carrying their language and unwritten literature thousands of miles across the Pacific area.
The evolution of myths has had a considerable effect on human mentality, and hence on such institutions as religion. We even see its effects in social laws and customs. Thus the attributing of life and personality to what we term inanimate objects has deeply affected the religious concepts and mode of thought of the Polynesian mind. Myths are, in many cases, attempts to explain phenomena, and the personifications of
Myths may come into existence by means of a love of the marvellous, and during a long residence among natives I have observed the genesis of weird tales on several occasions. When my very worthy friend,
Polynesian myths are often symbolical and allegorical. They often resemble those of Aryan peoples more than those of Semitic folk, especially with regard to such conceptions as supernormal beings, gods, personifications. We find a number of Asiatic-Polynesian parallels, cases in which similar myths have been evolved in the two regions, or have, in remote days, been carried from one area to the other by migrating peoples. Of such a nature are the myths connected with the primal
Many Maori myths are based on observation, hence the profusion of Native myths and personified forms. The Maori had ever an intimate fellowship with Nature, and this fact sprang from several causes. In the first place he lived in close contact with Nature; he was compelled to observe closely natural products and forces, in order to retain life. Thus he observed the habits of birds, of fish, of plant life, their functions and peculiarities. He also believed that all things possessed a life principle (mauri), an indwelling vital spirit, though not an apparitional spirit in the case of what we term inanimate objects. Above all, he held the belief that all things, animate and inanimate, are descended from a common source, the primal parents, Rangi and Papa. This belief had a considerable effect on the native mind, for, when the Maori walked abroad, he was among his own kindred. The trees around him were, like himself, the offspring of Tane; the birds, insects, fish, stones, the very elements, were all kin of his, members of a different branch of the one great family. Many a time, when engaged in felling a tree in the forest, have I been accosted by passing natives with such a remark as:
Kei te raweke koe i to tipuna i a Tane.” (You are meddling with your ancestor Tane). As a tree fell they would remark: “Kua hinga a Tane.” (Tane has fallen.) When old Pio, of the Awa tribe, was explaining to me the habits of the inanga, a small freshwater fish, he remarked: “When the star Takero is seen in the heavens, then the third migration of the inanga commences. They proceed to their ancestress Wainui (personified form of the ocean), and there produce their young. Inanga are descendants of Rehua (the star Antares, also apparently an old term for a forest). On the Turu and Rakaunui nights (16th and 17th) of the ninth moon they begin their first migration to Wainui. For, in the night of time, the inanga folk had enquired of Rehua: ‘What are we to do?’ and he had replied: ‘When you observe a red gleam in the heavens, that is a sign for you to hasten to your relative Wainui.”
As to explanatory myths it would appear that reflection, introspective thought, must be the mental condition that produces them, whereas in the matter of religion emotion enters largely into causes. As Tylor puts it: “Nature myths are the most beautiful of poetic fictions,” and the mythopoetic Maori has given full play to his imagination in that direction.
The Maori tongue is undoubtedly lacking in words denoting abstract ideas, but it would be a serious error to believe the Maori mind to be deficient in the faculty of abstraction. That mistake was made by Shortland, who wrote as follows: “The Maori has a very limited notion of the abstract. All his ideas take naturally a concrete form…Hence the powers of Nature were regarded by him as concrete objects, and were consequently designated as persons.” “Maori Religion and Mythology,” by Edward Shortland, M.A., M.R.C.P., London. 1882.Tenei tangata nui, a Aitua” (this
Tenei tangata kino, a Rama” (this evil person Rum), but these speakers were not confusing affliction and rum with volitional beings in their own minds, whatever European hearers might think.
Such occurrences as have given rise to myths in the past are still taking place in our midst, but our altered mentality does not make use of such opportunities. We have emerged from the myth-making plane of thought, and any newly-evolved myth that attempts to raise its head is met by many scoffers. The Vision of Mons is an example of this attitude. We passed through the Mythopoetic Age long centuries ago, while the Maori trod that path to the end. Even as Tane banished the Dawn Maid from the Ao Marama down the long descent of Tahekeroa to the under world, so has our changing mentality driven mythopoetic concepts into the realm of oblivion.
We have already scanned a number of myths pertaining to the primal offspring in dealing with Maori cosmogony and anthropogeny. There are, however, other concepts connected with the progeny of Rangi and Papa, or Sky and Earth, that must be dealt with in order to gain a comprehensive view of Maori myths. Those connected with Tane, Tu, Rongo and Tangaroa are especially prominent, not only in New Zealand, but also in the Polynesian area. In confining ourselves to local versions, we shall find that Tane and Rongo are the most interesting of these departmental deities. We have already seen that Tane is a personification of the sun, while Rongo represents the moon. Not only do we frequently encounter these names in native myths, as pertaining to two separate and distinct beings, but we also meet with a combination of the two names, in the form of Rongo-ma-Tane (Rongo and Tane). This title is known to the natives of the Society Group, where it appears as Ro'o-ma-Tane. The Maori folk make use of this name as though it denoted a single being, as in speaking of agricultural ritual, but it was evidently a case of combining two important names. This twain, moon and sun, were held to possess great influence over Nature, and they were appealed to in connection with many things.
It is of interest to note that, in Maori myth, there are two distinct personified forms of the moon, male and female,
ra, a widespread term throughout the Pacific area. Ra kura, the red sun, is a kind of honorific name for the sun among our Maori folk, while Tama-nui-te-ra is a title of its personified form. The name of Tane is, however, its most important title; Tane is assuredly the personified form of the sun, though he appears as one of the offspring of the Sky Father and Earth Mother. We find also, in native myth, that the sun itself, as distinct from its personified form, is said to be the offspring of Uru-te-ngangana, a brother of Tane, and a female being named Moe-ahuru. With regard to the moon, the ordinary name for the orb of night is marama; in mythologic recitals it is often alluded to as the marama-i-whanake, or waxing moon. The moon goddess is Hina; she is the female personification of the moon, and, as Hina, Ina and Sina she is known far and wide throughout Polynesia. One of her titles is Hina-keha (Pale Hina), though during the dark phase of the moon she is called Hina-uri (Dark Hina). Yet another of her names is Hina-te-iwaiwa; as the patron or tutelary being of women she is so termed. Inasmuch as iwa is the numeral nine, it is quite possible that we have, in this secondary name, an allusion to the period of gestation in women.
In Rongo we have the male personification of the moon. This name appears as Ro'o, Longo, Lono, Ono and Rongo throughout Polynesia, in sympathy with well-known letter changes. Among the Hawaiians Hina, when translated to the heavens, adopted the name of Lono, the Hawaiian form of the name Rongo. Rongo is the patron deity of the art of agriculture in New Zealand, and the moon was connected with that art in many old-world lands. In old mythologies the moon often appears as being older than the sun, and of more importance. In Maori myth Rongo is the elder brother of Tane. Thus we can understand why the name of the former comes first in Rongo-ma-Tane. In the Paumotu Group Tane appears as the husband of Hina, so that in this case the sun took the moon to wife. In the Chatham Isles, near New Zealand, Tama-nui-te-ra (the sun) has three daughters, Hine-ata (Morning Maid), Hine-aotea (Day Maid), and Hine-ahiahi (Evening Maid).
Tane was not only the personified form of the sun, but also represented all fructifying power; he was essentially the fertiliser, the origion of life, animal and vegetable; the active male element in Nature. The passive force in Nature is represented by the Earth Mother and by the female sex generally. The myths pertaining to Tane are of a superior type, as pertaining to a demiurgic being, while those connected with the name of Tama-nui-te-ra are of a lower class. The latter name appears as Tami-te-ra at the Chatham Isles, where it was also applied to a charm repeated over a dying person. It was recited by an attendant while holding the head of the dying one in the hollow of the arm, the reciter pointing to the sun with his other arm.
The Ngati-Awa tribe gives a different form of some of these old myths, and makes Hina-te-iwaiwa a daughter of Tane, which is not generally accepted. At Samoa Rongo appears as a son of Sina (Hina) and Tangaroa. At Mangaia Island, Rongo and Tangaroa are the twin children of Vatea (Maori Watea), Space, and of Papa. In Hawaiian myth the home of Rongo is said to be on the waters; and this probably accounts for his secondary name in New Zealand, where he is often called Rongo-marae-roa, Rongo of the far-spread expanse. Marae-roa, or Vast Expanse, is an expression employed to denote the ocean. It is also termed Marae-nui-atea (Vast Open Expanse). Moon worship was often connected with water worship in olden times, as in Babylonia. In that far land the moon was regarded as the parent of the sun and stars, and there, as in some other lands, moon worship was older than sun worship. It was the moon that caused crops to grow in Babylonian belief, and this also was the Maori belief. In both lands seeds were sown during a certain phase of the moon, while the moon was the measurer of time and controlled the seasons. The double stone image set up by the Maori in his cultivation grounds seems to have been called Rongo, but probably represented Rongo-ma-Tane. One of these images is in the New Plymouth Museum. This double name was specially prominent at Tahiti, Rarotonga and New Zealand. Another dual form is Rongo-ma-Uenga, but this I cannot explain; it occurs as the name of a god in Rarotongan lore.
Rongo seems to have been also known as Rongo-nui (Great Rongo), and the twenty-eighth night of the moon was called Orongo and Orongonui (O-Rongonui=pertaining to Rongonui), as the twenty-seventh night was termed Otane (O-Tane). The Maori planted his sweet potato crops during these two phases of the moon, a most suggestive fact. The Rev. W. Gill tells us that Rarotongan myth places the home of Rongo in the shades, even as the Maori alludes to the underworld as the “hidden home of Tane.”
The name of Rongomai appears frequently in native myth and story. In the first place it is the name of an atua, which god is apparently the personified form of meteors, and this being was appealed to in war time, and in connection with other matters. But, like the name of Rehua, it seems to have another application. Thus Rongomai is spoken of as a being of very early times who was translated to the moon. Certain markings on the surface of the moon are called Nga Umu o Rongomai, the ovens of Rongomai. Rongomai is mentioned in a formula recited when the kumara crop was being planted, as also were Kahukura and Uenuku, both personified forms of the rainbow. One version makes Rongomai the father of Kahukura. It is possible that there is a connection between Rongomai and Rongo-marae-roa.
Another name met with in Maori myth is that of Rongotau, or Rongo-a-tau, or Rongo-nui-a-tau. This being is said to abide in the heavens with Tane and Rehua (the sun and the star Antares). Apparently these are variant forms of the name of Rongo-marae-roa, for Rongo-tau is shown to be connected with the sweet potato and with Pani, who is spoken of as the mother of that prized tuber. In Vol. I. of White's “Ancient History of the Maori,” p. 163, appears a sentence stating that Kahukura (the rainbow) and Rongo-nui-a-tau were seen standing in the heavens. Again, Rongo-maui, the husband of Pani, is apparently the same being as Rongotau. He is said to have been a brother of Whanui (the star Vega), from whom he obtained the kumara tuber. The heliacal rising of that star was awaited by the Maori as a sign of the crop-lifting season. It would be of interest to learn that, in some other land, there is a connection between the star Vega and agriculture. There is a considerable amount of con-
The Maori has some quaint ideas concerning the moon. Natives have told me that, in olden days, the rising moon was at times greeted with the remark: “The husband of all women in the world has appeared.” An old native once remarked to me: “According to the knowledge of our ancestors, the marriage of man and woman is a matter of little moment; the moon is the true husband of woman.” It will be observed that in these various myths and beliefs the sex of the moon changes. In one version the moon appears as a male with two wives, Rona and Tangaroa. In popular myth Rona is the woman in the moon, translated thereto from earth in punishment for having insulted that useful orb by applying an offensive expression to it. She was going to procure water at night, when the moon was obscured by a cloud, which fact led to the unfortunate incident. When seized by the moon she grasped a ngaio tree, which was torn from the earth, and to which she still clung. Rona is still seen in the moon with her calabash, and the tree. In the South Island Rona appears in myth as a man, and the father of the Echoe Children. He fled to the moon to escape from his wife.
In dealing with Hina, the female personification of the moon, we have again to deal with a number of names, and a certain amount of confusion. In local myth Hina usually appears as a sister of Maui, but in a South Island version she is given as the mother of Maui, and the daughter of Mahuika (personified form of fire). In an ancient and mythical genealogy she is called Hina-i-te-po, in allusion to her appearance at night. One story makes Hina a daughter of Tangaroa. She also appears as the wife of Maui. The names of Hina-kai-tangata and Hina-whakapau-tangata are said to pertain to her, thus connecting her with death, the destroying of man. The moon is certainly connected with death in one way, as denoted in the expression mate a marama, which implies temporary death, the death that comes periodically to the moon, but from which she always recovers.
In the Paumotu Group Hina appears as the wife of Tane, that is, the sun takes the moon to wife. At Samoa Sina is “the woman in the moon.” At Manihiki Isle she is sister of the Maui brothers, at Mangaia she occupied the same position, and became the wife of Tane, though in another version she is taken by Marama, the moon. In yet another she appears as the daughter of Rongo. At Niue (Savage Island) the heavens are “the bright land of Sina,” and in the Marquesas Group she was the wife of Tiki, the first man. This latter position connects her with reproduction. The moon is concerned not only with the growth of crops, the fertile earth, but also with fertility in women. At Tahiti Hina appears as the first woman and the wife of Tiki. At the Hawaiian Isles her husband was “Man Eater”; he broke one of her legs when she ascended to the heavens, where she took the name of Lono-moku (Rongo-motu, or Crippled Rongo), thus connecting her with Rongo of New Zealand and other isles. In Maori myth she became the wife of Tinirau, who is the origin and tutelary being of all fish, and the son of Tangaroa.
At Mangaia isle Rongo was said to be black-haired, and so we hear of “the dark haired children of Rongo,” as all dark-haired folk are termed. The few fair-haired people among them are called “the fair-haired children of Tangaroa.” At Tahiti this Tangaroa was the most important of secondary gods, and he it was who created the first man, Tiki, whose wife was Hina, who, we are told, had two faces. Tangaroa and Tiki sought to destroy man and all the waters of the earth, but Hina saved man and brought the waters back. It is this Great Hina, the Watcher, who is invoked by the natives of Tahiti when performing the famous fire-walking ceremony. She is the being who causes high tides. Always Hina has some connection with water, even as Isis of old was a water goddess.
The myth of Hina and Maui, two personifications of light, is known in New Zealand and some isles of Polynesia; in others the two names are not apparently connected. Our local version makes Hina the sister of the five Maui brethren. She was taken to wife by one Irawaru, who was transformed by Maui the mischievous into a dog, and who has since been looked upon as the parent or tutelary being of dogs. When
rupe or pigeon, hence he acquired the name of Rupe. He carried Hina and her newly-born child away from Tinirau. In this myth Hina is spoken of as Hina-uri, or Dark Hina, and evidently the story accounts for the absence of the moon for three nights during the hinapouri or dark phase of the orb. When Rupe was in search of Hina he ascended the heavens in order to enquire of Rehua as to her whereabouts. Rehua arranged that food should be provided for the adventurous visitor, and, when the oven was heated, he loosed his bound hair, from which flew forth a flock of koko (parson birds) that were to be utilised as food. This is one of the stories that connect Rehua with the forest.
Under the names of Hina-te-iwaiwa and Hine-te-iwaiwa, the moon was viewed as the patroness of women. Hina presided over childbirth and the art of weaving, even as the moon goddess of Egypt did. The first tiki known was one made for Hine-te-iwaiwa by her father. This tiki is the grotesque image, usually fashioned from intensely hard nephrite (green-stone), worn by Maori women as a fructifying symbol.
Inasmuch as Hina-te-iwaiwa is shewn, in one version of the myth, to be the daughter of Tane, then the making of Tiki, and of the tiki by him, is a matter that can be explained, and that explanation is given in the account of Tiki as a personification. In another version, however, Hina-te-iwaiwa is said to have been a daughter or descendant of Uru-tengangana.
The most interesting of moon myths met with in Maori lore, however, is that concerning the Waiora a Tane. This phrase is usually rendered as “The Living Water of Tane,” or “The Life-giving Waters of Tane.” In popular myth, in New Zealand and across the Pacific, this name illustrates a
The above is, of course, an old, old myth in many lands. From Tane of Polynesia to the fountain of healing of Babylonian myth; from the waters of life of Alexander to Ponce de Leon of Florida, we note the persistence of this concept of healing or rejuvenating waters. Hewitt remarks in his “Primitive Traditional History,” that the Fountain of Youth myth probably originated in India, and that of the Waters of Life is said to be of Semitic origin, it having been traced to Assyria. At the Hawaiian Isles this myth was very prominent, as shown in Fornander's writings. At Tonga the water of life is represented by a lake called Vaiola, and we meet with the same name at Samoa. At the Chatham Isles the name was Wai-oro nui a Tane, according to Mr. Shand. At Rarotonga the life-giving waters are spoken of as a pool, and this version mentions that Hina dived into it to regain youth. She is here spoken of as the mother of Tiki, a curious and suggestive position. The Hawaiian tells us that the life-giving waters have three outlets, one each for Tane, Tu and Rongo, so that both sun and moon seem to gain renewed life thereat. Our Maori myth of the moon and the waters of life is clearly paralleled by that of Babylonia, wherein Istar is washed in the water of life, and so restored to glory.
Such is the widespread myth concerning the Waiora a Tane, but the inner meaning thereof has yet to be given. The word vai (Maori wai) of eastern Polynesia, means “to be, to exist,” and vaiora means “to survive.” The Maori word waiora has a general meaning of “welfare,” and is allied to ora and toiora. The waiora of Tane is light, sunlight, which is the welfare of all things. Tane-te-waiora is Tane as dispenser of life-giving sunlight. The dying moon bathes, not in water, but in this life-bringing light, and in this esoteric
waiora must be written as one word, and not as wai (water) ora (life, living).
The crescent symbol is by no means common in Polynesia. It is seen cut in rocks at Hawaii, and in the rei miro of Easter Island, a breast ornament worn by women, a wooden crescent with a face carved on each cusp thereof. This crescent form is also seen carved on the rocks at Orongo (O-Rongo) at that island, and we have seen that Rongo represented the moon. In New Zealand we find a crescent carved on the upper end of the shaft of the old wooden spade (ko) formerly used by the natives. This is suggestive, when we remember that Rongo was the patron of the art of agriculture. That crescent-shaped apex is called the whaka-marama, wherein we have marama=the moon, and whaka, a causative prefix. This old symbol of the moon and fertility was thus employed by the Maori husbandman. Where did he bring it from?
In Hine-Korako, the Fair Maid, we have a personified form of the lunar bow, or halo. She occupied quite an important position, and was looked upon as a kind of guardian spirit. One Tu-korako is, however, a rainbow personification, and has nothing to do with the moon. We also hear of one Hine-Korako of popular folk lore. She is a supernatural being who is said to dwell under the falls of Te Reinga at Te Wairoa; she was looked upon as a guardian spirit and even as an ancestress of the local natives. It is not improbable that she personifies the iridescent display of colours occasionally seen at the falls. In the far-off Hawaiian Isles we are told that Hina's home was in a large cave under the Rainbow Falls near Hilo.
In Hina or Hine-te-iwaiwa, and Rongo, we have mild and benevolent beings; the moon spirit is viewed as a mild-natured power, as the source of fertility, and as a protective being, a guardian of woman.
In dealing with the stories of Maui, Hina and Tuna, we encounter sun, moon and phallic myths, for Maui certainly represents some form of light. In the myths of barbaric folk we note that light and life are practically synonymous terms, and, knowing the common Polynesian a to o vowel change, it
moui means “life, alive, to live” at Tonga and Niue. Parallel forms are mauri and mouri, which bear the meaning of “life, to live, life principle” in many Polynesian dialects, and are encountered far westward in Melanesia. In Egypt Moui was a personification representing the splendour and light of the sun. The contest between Maui and the Queen of the Underworld was one of light, or life, against darkness or death.
The story of the encounter between Maui and Tuna, commonly termed by us the eel god, is a singular and interesting myth. Hine, or Hina, the wife of Maui, was meddled with by Tuna, who dwelt in the water. Maui then resolved to slay Tuna, and so he laid down nine skids As Hina was patroness of women, and connected with fertility and reproduction, can these nine skids refer to the period of gestation?
This second line is repeated in each couplet, and one is tempted to connect this Ira with Ira the eel god of India. The line may be rendered: “It is Ira, it is Ira, it is Ira of the waters.” This concept of an eel assaulting a woman is a very peculiar one, but it appears again in the myth of Tiki, the so-called first man. It seems to hinge upon the Asiatic concept of the phallic eel, which is connected with the phallic serpent known of Mother Eve. The symbol of the eel god of India is a linga with a lunar crescent on its head, which points to the symbolising of fertility. But the eel god of Ira of India is one and the same being, we are told, as Indra, who, in Persian myth, is the fell serpent. Here the phallic eel and serpent coalesce, as it were, and the old myth of Eve and the serpent reappears in the Polynesian myth of Tiki and the first woman, and that of Tuna and Hina. The eel appears as a generator in Celtic (Irish) myth, and it was a sacred creature in Egypt. Several forms of this Tuna myth appear in Polynesia, as in the Cook, Samoan and Paumotu Groups. In the Rarotongan story of Hina she is said to have led about an
tiki-tol, and use it for the equivalent of the serpent in the garden of Eden. For tiki is the old Maori sacerdotal or esoteric term for the phallus. Tol is probably a contracted form of tolo (Maori toro), “to generate, to thrust endwise, etc.” The death of Tuna, the phallic eel, on the ninth skid, is connected with the death of Tiki (the personification of the phallus) on the paepae or “threshold” of Hine-ahu-one. The story of Tiki and the first woman, with her adventure with the phallic eel, is given elsewhere (see Marriage). Evidently it is connected with the myth given above.
It seems probable that the Maori atua or god called Puhi is a personified form of the eel. Near Tauranga is a place named Te Rua o Puhi (The Pit of Puhi) whereat, in a hole, lived a huge eel that was looked upon as a supernatural being. It seems to have been viewed as an ancestor, or as representing one, and a local saying was “The descendants of Puhi do not eat eels.”
The position of Maui is not an easy one to define. He is not treated as an atua, or god, by the Maori, but rather as one of the heroes of antiquity. He is described as performing all kinds of marvellous tricks, and rejoiced in the name of Deceitful Maui, Maui the Trickster. Yet he apparently personifies light, or day, and is credited in many places as having drawn up lands from the depths of the ocean. It is thought by some that the attributes and feats of two different individuals of the name have become mixed, that the more modern Maui was a voyager in Pacific waters who discovered a number of islands, and so gained the reputation of having drawn them up to the light of day.
In Hochstetter's work on New Zealand a statement is made that Maui was the creator of the world, but no Maori myth exists that makes any such claim. A further remark by the same writer to the effect that Maui, “as god of the atmosphere and lord of the deep, as god of the creation in
Analogues of the Maui myths, or some of them, have been noted in the ancient lore of India, Babylonia and Egypt. It is stated in Maori tradition that Maui pertained to the original homeland of the Maori. The Maui of whom so many stories are told was one of five brothers, whose names were Maui-mua, Maui-pae, Maui-taha, Maui-roto, and Maui-potiki. The latter was also known as Maui-tikitiki-a-Taranga, and this, the youngest of the brothers, is the one around whom so many marvellous stories cluster. We hear but little concerning the other brothers. Some curious statements occur with regard to Maui; one such is to the effect that one of his eyes was like an eel, and the other was like greenstone. One of his names is Maui-matawaru, which may be rendered as Eight-eyed Maui, but then the Western Pacific word matavaru means “wise,” or “wisdom,” and this is probably the meaning in the above case. But a Rarotongan account of Maui states that he had eight heads, which should endow him with a fair number of eyes. Yet another Polynesian story is that Maui came by way of the rising sun to the Marquesas Group, which, in conjunction with other evidence, seems to support the view that he personifies day, or light.
The name of Maui's mother is usually given as Taranga by the Maori, his father's name appears in many forms throughout Polynesia. Maui-potiki was an immature birth and was wrapped by his mother in her girdle (tikitiki) and cast into the sea. But Maui did not perish in the waters, for the sea denizens befriended and nurtured him. The Wave Children of Hine-moana, the Ocean Maid, succoured him. Their names are Ngaru-nui, Ngaru-roa, Ngaru-tiketike, with many another. The Cloud Children, Ao-nui, Ao-roa, Ao-pouri, and others, bore him on their backs. The Whanau puhi, the Wind Children, came from the rolling plaza of the Ocean Maid to gambol with him. Tangaroa, the Tide Controller, and Rongomai-tahanui of the vast expanses, were as parents to him. Hine-moana sent the seaweed to clothe him as with a garment. When Maui had developed into a fair and stalwart youth, then the Wind Children brought him to land, where
Maui resolved to seek the realm wherein his mother spent the day, and so, by a stratagem, he prevented the dawning light being seen inside the house, and so detained his mother until it was broad daylight. He then assumed the form of a bird, the pigeon, and followed his mother down to the underworld. The passage thereto was disclosed by pulling up a bunch of rushes. Maui found both his parents in the underworld, and there met with a number of adventures. Doubtless there is some hidden meaning in this story. Maui is in some versions said to have been the son of Hina, who represents the moon, and we are told that the home of the moon is in the underworld. These stories are assuredly of an allegorical nature.
Maui acquired the powers of magic and was able to destroy life by that means, and in present-day speech the word maui denotes witchcraft. One of his most notable feats was his great task of lengthening the day. At that period the days were so short that man could not find time in which to perform his daily duties, hence Maui resolved to capture the sun and cause it to move more slowly. He and his brothers proceeded to the edge of the world, to the rua or pit from which the sun appears when it emerges each morn from the underworld. There they laid in wait, some concealed on either side of the aperture, around which the nooses to catch the sun were arranged. Ere long the sun, like a fierce, flaming fire, appeared, its head and limbs were ensnared in loops of stout rope, the Maui brothers ran to control the captured sun. Maui-potiki then attacked the sun, wielding a strange weapon, the jawbone of his grand-parent, and beat it so severely that it cried for mercy. He then compelled the sun to move more slowly in its daily journey, that the day might be lengthened for the tasks of man. This feat of Maui's is told by natives from New Zealand northward to the Hawaiian Group. At
Another of Maui's feats was that of drawing up the land from the depths of the ocean. The North Island of New Zealand is said to have been so pulled up by him, hence its name of Te Ika a Maui (The Fish of Maui). In this task he used the jawbone of his grandparent as a hook, and, having no bait therefor, he smeared some of his own blood on it. That hook is now represented by the curved coast line of Hawke's Bay on the eastern coast of the North Island, its point being the cape known as Te Matau a Maui (The Fishhook of Maui). When the island appeared above water it was seen to be occupied; houses were seen upon it, and fires were burning; people were engaged in their daily avocations. Again it is related that, when drawn up, the island was in a very soft condition, and the brothers of Maui, by walking over it, caused its present rough surface, the valleys, ranges and mountains. The island groups of Tonga, Cook, Hawaii, also Manihiki, Mangareva, etc., are said to have been so fished up by Maui, a truly wide-spread myth. It has apparently been carried as far as the New Hebrides; if indeed it was not brought eastward. In some of the isles of Polynesia Maui is said to have lifted the heavens up to where they are now, a task credited to Tane in New Zealand.
The procuring of fire is another far-carried myth in which Maui appears as the principal figure. In the New Zealand version we are told that Maui carefully extinguished all fires, apparently in a mischievous mood, he wished to play pranks on the custodian of fire, one Mahuika, a female being who is the personified form of fire. So, as fire was needed wherewith to cook food, Maui set forth on his quest, and came to where Mahuika dwelt, she whose offspring were the five Fire Children. Now the names of the Fire Children are Konui, Koroa, Mapere, Manawa and Koiti. These are also the names of the five fingers of the human hand. The fingers of Mahuika were the Fire Children, and Maui the Deceitful sought to destroy them. He applied to Mahuika for the gift of fire, one of the Fire Children, and she gave him Koiti; that is, she pulled off her little finger and gave it to him. This he took away with him, but he did not carry it home; he extinguished the fire;
kaikomako tree ( Pennantia corymbosa), the most highly prized wood for the purpose of generating fire. The Kaikomako Maid is the Fire Conserver. When man desires fire he applies to this Fire Maid for it; that is to say, he takes a piece of her body wherewith to generate it. This Maid was taken to wife by one Irawhaki, the Fire Revealer, whom we hear of in Maori myth. He is referred to in an old song—
The other two trees referred to are the“E Ira E! Whakina mai te ahi.” (O Ira! Reveal to us the fire.)
In one version of this myth Maui is said to have transformed himself into a hawk in order to escape from the pursuing fire, but even so he got scorched by the heat, hence
Maui is credited with many feats, great courage, and superior cunning, also with cleverness in many ways. Thus we are told that he was the first to make and use barbed fish hooks and bird spears, and the first to construct an eel pot fitted with a retracted entrance that prevented the escape of the eels. He was an expert dart thrower and kite flier; he invented the game of whai, or cat's cradle, and was renowned in many ways. He was not, however, deemed an atua, or god.
The final and most remarkable of the adventures of Maui was his contest with Hine-nui-te-Po, the female janitor of the underworld. In this adventure he strove to disable Hine and gain eternal life for man. Evidently this is a myth concerning a contest between light and life on the one side, and darkness and death on the other. It is, in fact, another such myth as that of Tane and Whiro, already explained. It is not clear as to why the Maori should possess two distinct myths pertaining to this subject. The Maui versus Hine-nui-te-Po story is based on the popular native belief that this Hine, the ex-Dawn Maid, is actively engaged in destroying man; she stands for death, and drags man down to the underworld of death and darkness. The higher teaching concerning her is of quite a different nature.
The enmity between Maui and Hine originated in the death of the Fire Children at the hands of Maui. For Mahuika (personified form of fire) was, we are told, a sister Hine-titama, though other versions do not agree with this. Hine resolved to punish Maui for having destroyed the Fire Children; Maui was to be slain by magic arts. It was necessary to procure a medium through which such spells might affect their objective, and so Hine despatched Kahukura (the butterfly) to procure a drop of Maui's blood to serve as an ohonga, or medium. But the messenger failed in his errand through feebleness and his conspicuous appearance; he was slain by Maui. Hine then despatched Waeroa, the mosquito, but he was too noisy; Maui heard him approach, humming as he came, and destroyed him. Hine then chose Namu, the silent sandfly, as a messenger. Namu succeeded, and bore back to Hine a drop of the blood of Maui. The end was now assured, through Maui knew it not. The hero who had conquered the sun and performed mighty deeds, the fame of which had struck against the heavens, was doomed to meet death at the hands of Hine of the Dark Underworld.
Maui was distressed by the presence of death in the world. He wished men to die as does the moon, that is, for a brief period only, and then return to life. But Dark Hine of Rarohenga said: “Not so. Let man die for all time, and return to the Earth Mother, even that he may be mourned and wept for.” Thus it was that death became permanent in the ao marama, this world of life. Then the thought grew with Maui—why should he not slay or disable the Goddess of Death, thereby destroying her influence, and so bring about the condition of temporary death.
Thus it was that Maui set off to seek Hine-nui-te-Po and overcome her. As companions he took with him several birds. When they arrived at Kautere-rangi they came upon Hine lying asleep at the house called Potaka-rongorongo, on the door frame of which had been smeared the blood of Maui obtained by Namu. Maui proposed to enter the body of Hine, destroy her vitals, and so abolish death by destroying the author of death. He assumed the form of a rat in which to essay his desperate venture, but Tatahore (a bird, the whitehead) told him that he would not succeed in that form.
moko-huruhuru, and wriggled about in a manner that vastly pleased his companions, so much so that that form was decided upon as the best. The moko-huruhuru was explained to the writer as being a species of caterpillar, or grub, possessing phosphorescent qualities, though it is said in “The Whare Wananga” to be a hairy lizard. This latter definition is probably a literal rendering of the two words composing the name; presumably a hairy lizard would be somewhat of a rara avis.
Maui now warned his companions to remain silent, and above all not to laugh at his actions. His aim was to extract or destroy the heart of Hine, and to pass through her body, whereupon eternal death would be vanquished, and man would live for ever. So Maui entered the body of Hine by way of the Paepae o Tiki, and passed into the puapua. The sight quite overcame the companions of Maui; Tatahore laughed outright, while Tiwaiwaka fled to the plaza and danced about with delight. But Maui of the many lands was doomed. Hine was startled and awoke; she felt Moko-huruhuru and slew him. Thus died Maui the hero, and so near was man to grasping immortality here on earth.
Maui is said to have had an encounter with a huge monster named Mokoroa-i-ata or Mangoroa-i-ata, an encounter credited to Tangaroa at Rarotonga. This monster is now represented by the Milky Way, usually called the Mangoroa. It is alluded to as an eel in Vol. 24 of the Polynesian Journal.
At the Chatham Isles Maui is said to have taken to wife one Rohe, a sister of the sun. She remarked upon his ugly face, and so he forced her to change faces with him, and finally he killed her. Her spirit attacked and destroyed Maui, and so death entered the world. Here Rohe takes the place of Hine-nui-te-Po of the Maori version; she became queen of the underworld, and personified form of darkness and evil, as is Whiro in Maori myth. The Maori knows little of Rohe, so far as we are aware, but both Maori and Rarotongans have preserved the name.
Such are the Maui myths that are known across so vast an area of the Pacific Ocean. The various stories are here
It seems to be a recognised thing that no land is complete without a deluge myth, and many such have been placed on record in anthropological and other works. We do not find anything of peculiar interest among our Maori folk, however, concerning a past cataclysm of this nature. There is a lack of detail and precision in native references to a former deluge. Some refer to the Hurihanga a Mataaho as a deluge, but that name merely denoted the overturning of the Earth Mother by command of Io. Another so-called deluge mentioned is that known as the Tai-o-Ruatapu. This was quite a modern affair, having occurred but about twenty generations ago, according to a popular story. Possibly the tale is based on such an occurrence as the tidal wave that swept across the Pacific in 1868 (if my memory serves me). The persons mentioned in the story lived in the isles of Polynesia, about the time that the Arawa and other vessels sailed for New Zealand, or a little before that time. One Ruatapu, wishing to bring trouble on his friends because his father Uenuku had belittled him, resolved to drown certain male members of leading families. He induced them to go afishing with him, and, when well out at sea, he secretly pulled the plug out of the hole in the bottom of the vessel, and so allowed it to fill with water. There are several versions of this popular story. One has it that Ruatapu and his brother Paikea (alias Kahutia) were the sole survivors of this tragedy. As Paikea made for the shore Ruatapu called out to him: “When you reach land prepare for the future. Assemble all the people at Hikurangi, for when the long nights of winter arrive, I will be with you.” When the time came Ruatapu returned to his home in the form of a deluge of waters, and only those who had ascended the mount of Hikurangi escaped perishing in the flood.
A story of a deluge has appeared in Chapter XII. of White's “Ancient History of the Maori,” Vol. I., that was obtained from a South Island source. This account I can but view with deep suspicion, for it seems to be based upon missionary teachings. A number of expressions used, such as
whakapono, are employed in such a way as to show that the relater was conversant with the Maori edition of the Bible. Many of these usages are not met with in genuine old relations of Maori lore. Evidently some enthusiastic Christianised native has introduced a number of names of mythical beings of Maori lore into a garbled description of the old Babylonian myth beloved of our own teachers. The statement that a great flood was sent to punish men because they refused to heed the admirable teachings of Tane is certainly Biblical, but is utterly opposed to the trend of Maori lore.
We have seen that one Mahuika is the personified form of fire in Maori myth, and that Maui obtained fire from her when he destroyed the Fire Children. This, in popular story, was the ultimate origin of fire, but a less widely known myth takes the origin of fire back to the sun. In this wise:—
The sun on high wished to confer a boon upon mankind in days when the world was young. Even so Ra pondered as to what that boon should be, and at last resolved to send them fire, that man might possess the blessing of fire for all time. He therefore commanded his son Auahi-tu-roa (personified form of comets) to come down to earth bringing with him the seed of fire as a gift to mankind. This command was carried out, and, on arriving in this lower world, Auahi took Mahuika to wife, their offspring being the five Fire Children, whose names are those of the five fingers of the human hand. Their sad fate at the hands of Maui has already been related. Another name for the personified form of comets is Upokoroa, or Long Head, as seen in the saying: “ Me oioi ki te ringa ka puta te tama a Upoko-roa,” an allusion to the method of kindling fire by friction. The ignited dust was placed in some dry fibrous material which was waved to and fro, when the fire blazed up, or, as the Maori puts it, the child of Upoko-roa appears.
A Matatua version of the Manuika myth has it that one Hine-i-tapeka, a sister of Mahuika, represents subterranean fire, and is responsible for all the charred timber seen in volcanic deposits. Subterranean fire is called the Ahi o Tapeka (Fire of Tapeka).
At Mangaia Island we find that Mauike, the conserver of fire, dwells in the underworld, whither Maui went to procure it. At Samoa Mafui'e also abides in the underworld, and at both places the sex changes. At the Tokelau Group we have the form Mafuike, and the sex becomes female again. In many other isles the name is met with, carrying certain letter changes, according to the dialect.
In Maori myth the winds in general are personified in Tawhiri-matea and Tawhiri-rangi, two members of the offspring of the primal parents. Each wind has, however, its own personified form. The winds are said to have come from Rangi-tamaku and Rangi-parauri, the second and third of the twelve heavens. All phases and forms of wind, snow, ice, etc., are the offspring of one Huru-te-arangi, a supernormal being, and of Tawhirimatea. This Huru was taken to wife by two beings, and produced all the Wind Children, the Snow Children, and Frost Children.
Here we have the origin of these phenomena in clear tabular form. Huru was taken to wife by Te Ihorangi, the personified form of rain, and brought forth twelve children, who personify different forms of snow, ice, frost and hail. She was also taken by Tonganui-kaea (Tonga=south) and had Parawera-nui, the cold south wind, who mated with Tawhirimatea and gave birth to the Wind Children. A recital of the names of all these young folk would be tedious and unprofitable.
One Raka-maomao is also connected with winds, and the south wind is called the Child of Raka-maomao. At Raro-
We are told that the four toko (poles, props) by means of which Tane supported the heavens are the four winds, though another version states that they were rays (also termed toko) of the sun. The personified forms of the four winds are Parawera-nui (south), Tahu-makaka-nui (west), Tahu-mawake-nui (east), and Hurunuku-atea (north). From these winds all things acquire the breath of life. The Wind Children it was who bore Tane to the heavens, and defeated the hordes of Whiro. They dwell in the Wind House, but emerge therefrom to gambol on Mahora-nui-atea, the vast plaza of the Ocean Maid, and to assail the Cloud Children in the vast region of Watea (space personified). They are known collectively as the Whanau puhi (Wind family) and as the Tini o Matangi-nui (Multitude of Great Winds).
The wise men of yore were believed to possess the powers of raising and laying winds. Hence wind charms were an important part of the equipment of seafarers. A simple method of laying a violent wind is to procure a piece of dead ember, proceed to a stream, and stand therein while you pass the ember under your left thigh with your left hand, repeating at the same time an appropriate charm.
The wind calabash of Polynesian myth is a quaint fancy, a symbolical conception employed in a practical manner. Holes formed in the lower part of a calabash represented the wind apertures on the horizon, whence come the various winds. When ceremonially demanding a certain wind the operator left open the aperture pertaining to that wind, and closed the others.
The superior creation myth shows that sea and land were brought into being by Io-matua, the Supreme Being, but popular myths tell a different story. Thus we are told that waters collected and so formed an ocean, out of which the earth appeared, developed, gained maturity, and was taken to wife by Rangi. Another story is that Rangi took to wife one Wainui-atea (Great Open Space of Waters, or Great Expanse of Water), and to these was born Moana-nui (Great
te nganunga a Hine-moana,” the result of the gnawing of Hine-moana into the great body of Tuanuku, our universal mother. This aggression was noted by the Whanau a Rangi (Offspring of Rangi), who appointed Rakahore, Hine-tu-a-kirikiri, and Hine-one (personified forms of rock, gravel and sand) to protect the flanks of the Earth Mother from being swallowed by Hine-moana. When the serried battalions of the Ocean Maid roll in, rank behind rank, to assault the Earth Mother, gaunt Rakahore faces them fearlessly, and they break in fury around him. Still they rush on, in wavering array, to hurl themselves in vain against the rattling armour of the Gravel Maid, or upon the smooth but immovable form of the Sand Maid. They budge not, but ever stand between Papa the Parentless and the fury of Hine-moana.
This table shows the origin of the three personifications mentioned. They sprang from the line of Tane and the Mountain Maid.
Hine-moana was taken to wife by Kiwa, the guardian of the ocean. The first wife of Kiwa was Parawhenuamea, who produced the waters of the earth. The ocean is known as Te Moana nui a Kiwa, the Great Ocean of Kiwa.
The Ocean Maid is a descendant of Tane, as shown below:—
Kiwa, Kaukau and Takaaho, the guardians of the ocean, dwell in the “house” Tahora-nui-atea, and ever guard the bounds of Hine-moana. The name Tahuaroa is occasionally applied to the great expanse of ocean. The words tahua and marae both denote a plaza, and both are applied to the ocean (Marae-nui-atea) which is compared to a vast plaza. Used in this sense we also encounter the word marae in the full title of Rongo (Rongo-marae-roa), for, like all lunar deities, he is connected with water. Another name for the expanse of ocean is the Raorao nui a Watea, The Great Plain of Watea (personified form of space). The Chatham Islands natives call it Te Hiku Watea.
All shellfish are termed Te Whanau a Te Arawaru (The Offspring of Te Arawaru), and they are divided into many families. The two clans of Pipi and Kuku (cockle and mussel) were at war at one time, and the former folk were driven to dwell at the one tahua (sandy or sand and mud beach between high and low water).
Tangaroa is the personified form of all fish, and his son Tinirau is also connected with fish. He it was who took Hina (personified form of the moon) to wife when she went across the ocean to the Sacred Isle, Motu-tapu. He is connected with Te Puna i Rangiriri, a mythical spring or place in the ocean where fish are said to originate, or come from. The frost fish, river eel, and conger eel have, however, a different origin, as they are said to have sprung from Te Ihorangi (per-
inanga also is said to have sprung from Rehua, and the shark from Takaaho, another member of the offspring of Rangi. Whales originated with Tinirau.
All seabirds are personified in Hurumanu, one of the primal offspring, and some species have a special personification of their own.
Tane it was who arranged that the waxing moon should control the tides of Hine-moana. Rona and Tangaroa assist in this task, hence their secondary names of Whakamau-tai. At the same time the Tuahiwi nui a Hine-moana (The Ridge, or Backbone of the Ocean Maid) was located in the ocean and assists in the regulation of tides. The popular story concerning the origin or cause of tides is that they are produced by the inhalations and exhalations of a huge monster named Te Parata, who dwells in the depths of the ocean.
There are a number of personified forms of the rainbow in Maori myth. Such are Kahukura, Uenuku, Haere, and some others. The ordinary vernacular term for a rainbow is aniwaniwa; it is sometimes called atua piko, or “curved atua,” the latter word denoting something supernormal. The most interesting myth connected with the rainbow is that concerning the adventure of Uenuku with the Mist Maid. In this story Uenuku is introduced as an ordinary mortal living with his relatives the ordinary village life of the Maori people. In his walks abroad one day he encountered two women of surpassing beauty. These were Hine-pukohurangi and Hine-wai, two sisters who abode in realms celestial. The former is the Heavenly Mist Maid, to render her name literally; she is the personified form of mist and fog, to be hereinafter referred to as the Mist Maid. Her sister, Hine-wai, is the personified form of light, misty rain, such as is often connected with mist. In one version we are told that these two maids came down to earth in order to bathe in the waters of this world. Whatever their object may have been it is clear that Uenuku was deeply enamoured of the charms of the beauteous Mist Maid. He succeeded in inducing her to look on him with favour, and so was the Mist Maid taken to wife by Uenuku of the world of light. There was, however,
aria (form of incarnation of a deity, visible form) is the white mist seen rising from the body of the Earth Mother when Hine-ata, the Morning Maid, comes to us.
Now Uenuku was extremely proud of his fair bride, so lovely was the celestial Mist Maid, but she would not allow him to show her to his people, or even to speak of her to them. She said: “When our child is born, then you may take me before your people; until then I must not be made known. Should you disobey me, then I will forsake you, never to return.” As time passed Uenuku became so eager to exhibit his bride to the village folk that the desire was too strong to resist. For the Mist Maid possessed a loveliness never seen in the women of this world. Thus was it that he told his people of his mysterious love who nightly came down from the heavens to visit him. Then it was resolved to deceive and detain the Mist Maid, so that all might see her. All crevices in the walls, doorway, and other parts of the house of Uenuku were carefully filled, so that no ray of light might enter the interior when day dawned. Then the coming of the Mist Maid was awaited. She came as usual, and, when dawn approached, her sister, the Rain Maid, called to her: “O Hine! The day cometh.” The Mist Maid was about to depart when Uenuku detained her, saying that dawn was yet distant, as shown by the lack of any ray of light in the house. The Mist bride thought that her sister had been mistaken, and so did not depart. Again the gentle Rain Maid called her, but again Uenuku deceived and detained her. Then the light
The time had now come when Uenuku could exhibit his marvellous bride to the people. The open space before his abode was now occupied by all the village folk, who eagerly awaited the appearance of the Mist Maid. Uenuku opened the door of his house, the light of clear day entered therein, while without Tama-nui-te-ra, the rising sun, banished the gloom of Whiro and greeted the advent of Hine-aotea, the Day Maid.
The betrayed Mist Maid rose. She looked at Uenuku, she saw the gleaming sunlight, the people assenbled on the plaza, and knew that she had been deceived by man, that her sojourn on earth was over. She came forth from the house into the porch; her long hair covered her as a cloak covers the form of the wearer; the assembled people marvelled at the superlative loveliness of the fair Mist Maid. She ascended to the roof of the house, to the ridge thereof, and took her stand on the apex of the gable at the front. All eyes were turned on her as she stood there gazing upward, with upraised arms, her form enveloped in such hair as no mortal had even seen. Silence reigned as she raised her voice and sang a song of farewell to Uenuku, upbraiding him for his deception, and announcing that nevermore would she return to him.
Then a strange thing happened. For the people saw, descending slowly from the heavens, a column of fleecy mist. As the Mist Maid sang her farewell song, so the mist pillar descended, until, just as she concluded her song, the mist enveloped her and concealed her from the view of the people. Then the mist column slowly ascended again, and finally disappeared in the boundless realm of Watea; but there was no sign of the lovely Mist Maid. Gone was she, never to return.
Now the penalty of disobedience was felt by Uenuku, and deeply he mourned for his lost bride. Impelled by grief and desire he set off in search of the Mist Maid. Over far lands and through many regions he wandered long, but never again did he look upon the face of the lost one. But, ever seeking, ever hoping, he fared on, until, in a far land, old
Never again did the Mist Maid come down to earth in human form, only her aria comes to greet the wise old Earth Mother, and so, when brave Tane springs above the eastern horizon, we often see the white mist rising from vale, and plain, and mountain range, to return to the abode of Hine-pukohu, the Mist Maid.
Uenuku, as personified form of the rainbow, is one of the more important of the third-class Maori deities. He was especially favoured as a war god, and offerings were made to him, placatory gifts. Many omens were drawn from the appearance of rainbows. Uenuku-rangi (rangi=the heavens) is a name often applied to this personification. At one time he visited this world and begat a female child, daughter of one Ihu-parapara, wife of Tamatea-ariki-nui of famous memory. This was a case of immature birth, and the child was supposed to be lifeless, hence its body was taken, away and deposited at the tuahu. Uenuku simulated the form of Tamatea when he visited this world, and so Ihu-parapara was deceived. When he left her, however, she noticed that his feet left the earth as he walked, and so he rose from earth and gradually disappeared in space.
In after days, when the tua rite was about to be performed over Kahu-ngunu, another of the children of Tamatea, a strange visitor reached the village. This unknown visitor was a young maid of fair presence. She walked into the village, approached the house of Tamatea, entered it by way of the window space, and seated herself upon the tapu sleeping place of Tamatea. This bold and unusual act caused astonishment and resentment to be expressed. Ihu-parapara demanded to know who she was. The maid replied: “I am thine. I was abandoned by you at the tuahu. Uenuku came and took me far away across the ocean, to the far region where the tides divide, where I was tended and cherished by the folk who dwell in vast open spaces, they who occupy the great plaza of Hine-moana [the Ocean Maid].” On hearing
tuahu, and there the pure and tohi rites were performed over her, while she was given the name of Uenuku-titi. As these rites were being performed the people saw a vivid rainbow standing over the tuahu, and knew that Uenuku was present. Then the special foods that had been prepared for the ritual feast connected with Kahungunu were utilised for that held in honour of Uenuku-titi, his half-sister of celestial origin.
We are told that the maid Uenuku-titi remained with her mother's people, but that ever and anon she would leave her home on land and sojourn a space with the strange folk who dwell in the vast ocean spaces known as Mahora-nui-atea. Her descendants for some generations showed these strange ways, and would disappear at times, but gradually they grew reconciled to the land-world, and so became entirely land-dwelling creatures. The importance of this line of descent from Uenuku-titi lies in the fact that it is one of the links that connect man with the gods. The lines of descent from Tane, Uru, and Roiho are other such links.
Kahukura is another famous personification of the rainbow, and two names are included in this case. The upper and darker band of the rainbow known by that name is called Kahukura-pango, and the lower one Pou-te-aniwaniwa; the former is viewed as a male, the latter as a female. Weather signs are derived from the appearance of these bows. Kahukura is said to have been a son of Rongomai, a being already alluded to in these pages, and to have come to New Zealand with Rongo-i-amo, when the latter introduced the sweet potato into these isles. Kahukura adopted a novel method of reaching New Zealand. He utilised his mother, Hine-te-wai, as a bridge, placing her in the form of an arch, with her feet planted in Hawaiki and her arms supporting her in New Zealand. Apparently she also represents the rainbow, though Rongomai seems to personify meteors. Rongomai was then placed on Hine-te-wai, presumably to strengthen the arch, when Kahukura and his companion were enabled to cross dry shod to New Zealand over a resplendant bridge some two thousand miles in length.
The appearance of Kahukura was held to denote the nearness of rain. If such rain were not wanted the Maori would address Kahukura in most insulting terms, which would, naturally, deeply offend him, and cause him to withhold the rain.
In the Cook Group the rainbow is spoken of as being the girdle of Tangaroa. By this path he came down to earth when charmed by the beauty of Hina (personified form of the moon). Fair people are said to be the descendants of Tangaroa, because he married fair Hina-Keha, Pale Hina, and their offspring were fair, light-haired folk, the “whanau kehu a Tangaroa.”
There are a number of personified forms of lightning. Two of the principal ones are Tama-te-uira and Hine-te-uira, the Lightning Man and the Lightning Maid. The former is said to represent forked lightning, and the latter sheet lightning. Mataaho personifies distant lightning.
Tama-te-uira, Tu-matakaka and others were appointed guardians and regulators of the Lightning Children, a body of wayward young folk whose names denote various phases of lightning. Such control is most necessary, otherwise serious injury might be inflicted by them on inoffensive beings and things in this world. Tupai is another personified form of lightning, and the Matatua tribes attribute to Tupai any injury or destruction caused by lightning. Lightning is sometimes called the ahi tupua a Hine-te-uira—the supernatural fire of the Lightning Maid. Tawhaki, a name frequently encountered in Maori traditions, and even in genealogies, seems to represent lightning, and a passage in Mr. White's notes reads: “Tawhaki is the atua of thunder and lightning,” and the Moriori folk direct their invoctions to him when a thunderstorm appears.
Many portents were derived by the Maori from lightning, and the rua koha or rua kanapu was a widespread institution. These names mean a place of flashing, and are applied to places where summer lightning is wont to play, usually high hill peaks, but not always so. In some cases coast dwelling observers see this phenomenon out at sea, as in the Bay of Plenty, where are two rua koha known as the
With reference to the origin of clouds, mist and rain, three supernormal beings, Te Mamaru, Mawake-nui, and Te Ihorangi were appointed as guardians of the bounds of the heavens. All three were children of the primal parents; the last-mentioned being the personified form of rain. The first two probably represent dark clouds and wind. Their task was to control the clouds of the heavens, that they might act as a screen between Rangi and Papa, and so shade the body of the Earth Mother. The controllers called upon Hine-moana, the Ocean Maid, and Hine-wai (personified form of misty rain) to despatch Hine-Makohu, the Mist Maid, A variant form of the name Hine-pukohu.
The principal personified forms of clouds are Hine-kapua (the Cloud Maid), who was a daughter of Tane, Tu-kapua, Te Ao-tu, Te Ao-hore, etc. The Cloud Children are a numerous folk; they dwell within their house known as the Ahoaho o Tukapua, which is the realm of Watea (personified form of space). They often venture forth to roam athwart the vast breast of Rangi, the Sky Parent, where they are frequently attacked and harried by the Wind Children, a turbulent crew that ever careers around Watea and disturbs the serenity of the Cloud Maid and her young relatives.
To explain the origin of rock, stones and sand, we cannot do better than to present it in Maori form:—
taniwha (water monsters and mythical dragons), insects, reptiles, as also the beings who produced all forms of rock, stones, gravel and sand. The three female children of Rangahua are the personified forms of sandstone, sand and gravel, viz., the Sandstone Maid, the Sand Maid, and the Gravel Maid. The two last-mentioned, together with Rakahore, are, as we have seen, the protectors of the Earth Mother from the ravages of Hine-moana, the Ocean Maid. Rakahore is a sturdy defender, he takes his stand amid the surging battalions of Hine-moana, and never wearies of withstanding their ceaseless assaults. His name appears in a quaint old-time aphorism: “E kore a Para-whenua e haere ki te kore a Rakahore” (Para-whenua will not move abroad in the absence of Rakahore). The explanation of this cryptic saying is that water would not emerge from the earth, as it does in the form of rivulets and springs, were it not for the rock that lies beneath the surface.
Greenstone (pounamu) is said to have had a different origin, in some of these relations. Thus one story relates that Tangaroa took to wife one Anu-matao, who represents cold
pounamu, and our name of greenstone, are applied, not only to true nephrite, but also to bowenite, jadeite, serpentine, and malachite. In some far-off region across the ocean is a place or sea named Moana-kura, concerning which a quarrel arose between Poutini and Tutunui. The latter wished to use this sea as an abiding place for his charges and offspring, fish and shellfish. Poutini objected, and so the contest commenced. Tutunui assembled all the Sandstone Folk, represented by Hine-tu-a-hoanga, who attacked the Greenstone People and defeated them. This myth is based on the fact that sandstone was utilised for the purpose of working nephrite, which is of too tough a nature to lend itself to flaking or chipping; thus sandstone is, as it were, the natural enemy of nephrite.
Poutini now resolved to migrate with the Greenstone People, and so brought them across the ocean to these isles. Another version has it that one Ngahue brought them hither, or that he followed them to these isles. Anyhow they came, fleeing from the wrath of the Sandstone Maid. But they were at once pursued, and so found great difficulty in finding a resting place here. On reaching Mayor Island, in the Bay of Plenty, they proposed to land and settle thereon, but encountered Mata and Tuhua (flint or quartz, and obsidian). So the fleeing Greenstone People fled southward. Near East Cape they strove to settle, but saw Waiapu (a form of flint) and Tu-a-hoanga already in occupation; so they fled again, unable to face the rending flint and sandstone. At many other places they sought to land, but ever found the Sandstone Folk, or flint, or quartzite, in possession, and so were forced to move on. At length they found a refuge at Arahura, on the west coast of the South Island, and there they abode. But still the Sandstone Folk and Ngahue pursued them and delivered an attack. Then was slain the wife of Poutini, one Pungapunga (the name of a light variety of greenstone). Many chiefs of the Greenstone People were slain and carried off, others fled
The huge moa,Dinornis, long extinct.
This singular myth is a decided puzzle. Possibly it is a confused mixture of several stories, of the discovery of greenstone at Arahura by Ngahue and his companions, and an expedition for the purpose of obtaining the prized stone, which was found only in the Westland district. The expedition led by one Tama-ahua, from Taranaki to Arahura, in order to secure greenstone, has become much encrusted with myth. The peculiar aspect of tangiwai (bowenite) is said to be the result of the weeping of Hine-ahua, wife of Tama-ahua, for her far-distant home in Polynesia. Her tears permeated the stone, hence the peculiar markings in it as seen to-day, also its name. When Ngahue returned to Hawaiki (Polynesia) he informed the people that greenstone and the huge moa bird were the most remarkable products of the land of Aotea.
Hine-tu-a-hoanga, the personified form of sandstone, is said in one version of these quaint stories to have been the mother of Rata of tree-felling fame, a story known in many regions of Polynesia. Hine is spoken of as representing all hoanga or grinding stones employed in sharpening tools and in fashioning objects. Rata applied to her to sharpen his stone adze, and the word rata, in vernacular speech, carries the meaning of “sharp.” Rata wished to hew out a canoe in order that he might sail to a distant land and punish a people who had slain his father. Hence he entered the forest and felled a suitable tree. On returning to the spot next day he found to his amazement that the tree was again standing upright, and as vigorous as ever; apparently it had never been felled. However, he felled it again, and returned home. The next morning saw the tree once more upright and flourishing. This was so mysterious and vexatious that Rata decided to consult his mother, who sent him to an old relative, a wise man of many years. He explained to that wise man that unseen hands kept re-erecting the tree he had felled, and, moreover, the forest seemed to be full of mysterious creatures. The old man said: “Those strange folk are your own ancestors. Fear not. They haunt the forest shades; they dwell
tapu places, in the lower world they ever roam by day and night. Go; fell your tree once more, then cover the stump with paretao [a plant, a small fern]. When evening falls, take the paretao to the tuahu [sacred place of a village], and await my arrival.” Rata obeyed his elder, and, when the latter received the herbage, he waved it toward the heavens, and recited a long formula, such as is repeated when a superior tree is about to be felled for an important purpose. This rite had the desired effect and the forest elves interfered no more with Rata. In another version of the story Rata is told to sharpen his axe on the back of Hine-tu-a-hoanga ere he fells the tree. The story is a long one, and apparently describes an expedition from some isle of Polynesia to a Western Pacific land, but it has become encrusted with myth.
In times long past away, times exceedingly remote, there dwelt in this world of life a man named Mataora, a man of fair presence and goodly standing. As Mataora lay asleep one day, a party of young women came upon him, and paused to look at him, and to marvel as to who and what he might be. These young folk were not people of this world, the upper world, but were denizens of Rarohenga, the subterranean spirit world. Thus they were not ordinary folk, mortals, as are people of this world, but of a supernatural nature, and hence they are alluded to as Turehu. The leader of the party was a maid of wondrous charms named Niwareka, and she is said to have been a descendant of Ruaumoko and Hine-nui-te-po. The former represents earthquakes, all volcanic phenomena, and he took to wife Hine, the erst Dawn Maid, who dwells in the underworld.
The Turehu folk gazed upon Mataora, and wondered as to who he was. Some thought that he was a supernatural being. When he awoke he looked upon the Turehu folk, and enquired: “Are you females?” while they enquired: “Are you a male?” Then Mataora asked the spirit folk to enter his house, but they declined either to enter the house or to eat of the cooked food he offered them. They exclaimed that the food was putrid, for those strange folk were quite ignorant of the art of cooking food. So Mataora was compelled to provide raw food for their entertainment.
When his Turehu guests had partaken of their raw food Mataora rose, grasped his maipi (a staff-like weapon) and entertained them with an exhibition of tuone, in which the performer shows his agility and command of his weapon. When he had concluded his performance, then the Turehu folk rose and performed a posture dance before Mataora. As they danced, one came forward to the front and acted as leader, while all kept calling out “Niwareka! Niwareka!” which was the name of the leader of the party. A maid of many charms was she. The dance was a singular one, for the performers held each other's hands, and skipped about; sometimes they trooped after each other and passed between two, who held each other's hands. A very fair-skinned folk were these Turehu, having light-coloured hair, also slender but well-formed bodies. So abundant was their hair, that it covered them to the waist, below which they wore aprons made of seaweed.
Now Mataora became deeply enamoured of the leader of the Turehu folk, the one named Niwareka, for truly was she a beautiful and charming creature. She was the daughter of one Uetonga, who dwelt in Rarohenga, the underworld. So it came about that Mataora took to wife Niwareka, a being of the spirit world. For some time they dwelt happily together, until some strange fancy affected the mind of Mataora; he became jealous and angry with his wife, and finally he struck her. This treatment was a dread shock to Niwareka, for, as we shall see anon, such actions are unknown to Rarohenga. Thus she at once fled from Mataora to return to her own home, and so passed away from his ken.
Mataora became disconsolate after the flight of his wife; grief and dejection afflicted him. At last he resolved to go forth in search of her. He went to Tahuaroa, at far Irihia, where great Hikurangi looks down on the old homeland of the Maori. He came to Poutere-rangi, where Te Kuwatawata, the Guardian, holds the entrance to the underworld of spirits, and enquired of him: “Have you not seen a woman passing this way?” The Guardian enquired: “What is the token?” Replied Mataora: “Her fair hair.” Said the Guardian: “She has passed here weeping as she went.” He then allowed Mataora to pass down to the underworld in search of his lost bride.
kumara crops; some are building houses, some are fishing, some are tattooing, some are kite-flying, some are top-spinning. Mataora enquired for his wife, and the answer was: “She has passed on with swollen eyes and hanging lips.”
Mataora went on his way until he came to the home of Uetonga, father of Niwareka, where Uetonga was engaged in exercising the art of tattooing. Mataora noticed that the blood of the person being tattooed was flowing freely, which surprised him, because, at that period, tattooing by punctuation was unknown in the upper world, where designs were merely painted on the human body. Hence he said to Uetonga: “Your mode of tattooing is wrong; it is not done so in the upper world.” But Uetonga, the tohunga ta moko (tattooing expert) of Rarohenga replied: “Not so. It is your method that is wrong; this is true tattooing; your mode of decoration is merely for the adornment of houses, and is known as hopara makaurangi, but when applied to persons it is styled tuhi.” Then Uetonga stretched forth his hand and rubbed the face of Mataora, thus effacing the designs that had been painted thereon. Now all the people laughed to see the designs so easily destroyed, while Uetonga remarked: “O the upper world! Ever is its adornment a farce. Behold how easily it is effaced; it is merely a marking. Know then, ye of the upper world, that there are several kinds of adornment [whakairo]. There is the woman's art of adorning cloaks, and the men's art of wood carving, while that on your face is merely a painted pattern.” Thus Mataora learned of the art of true tattooing by punctuation. He said to Uetonga: “You have spoilt my adornment and now you must tattoo me properly.” Even so Uetonga called upon those who traced the designs for tattooing to prepare Mataora for the ordeal, and, when this was done, he took his tattooing implement and began to operate on him. As Mataora lay there suffering the pain of being tattooed with the lacerating chisel of the artist, he sang the following song:—
Now the younger sister of Niwareka chanced to hear Mataora singing this song, hence she ran off to Taranaki, where Niwareka was engaged in weaving a cloak. She reported: “A certain person yonder, a handsome man, is being tattooed, and he sings a song in which your name is mentioned.” So all those present went off to see this man, and Niwareka told them to conduct him to her. As the women led him to the house, Niwareka said: “He walks as Mataora did, and his cloak looks like one of my own weaving.” Then she and her companions welcomed Mataora, for they pitied him on account of his suffering the pain of being tattooed. He was for the time quite blind, so swollen was his lacerated face. As he sat down, Niwareka enquired: “Are you Mataora?” He nodded his head, and his hands clutched at her. Then she knew that it was truly Mataora, and that he had come to seek her; even so she greeted him with tears.
When the scarred face of Mataora was healed then the tattooed devices thereon looked very fine. He then proposed that they should return together to the upper world, but Niwareka said: “The ways of the upper world are ways of evil; both realms have heard of our trouble; I must consult my people.” Came Uetonga to Mataora, saying: “Maybe you think of returning to the upper world; if so, return, but let Niwareka remain here. Is it a custom of the upper world to beat women?” And Mataora was overcome with shame.
Said Tauwehe, brother of Niwareka: “Mataora! Abandon the ao turoa [upper world], the home of evil. Observe how all denizens of the upper world are ever compelled by violence and other evils to descend to the under world. Let us all dwell here below, in the realm of harmony. Abandon the upper world and its evil deeds; leave it as a realm apart from the lower world with its peace and harmony.” Then Uetonga added: “Mataora! Let us not hear tidings of a second evil act of thine in the upper world.
Now observe well and study the words of Uetonga. Here in the upper world alone are evil deeds known; this is truly the realm of darkness. As to the underworld of Rarohenga, no evil is there known, neither does darkness obtain; it is a realm of light and righteousness. This is the reason why, of all spirits of the dead from the time of Hine-ahu-one even unto ourselves, not a single one of those spirits has ever returned hither to dwell in the upper world.
When at last Mataora was allowed to take Niwareka back to the upper world, Uetonga said to him: “Mataora! Farewell! Return to Taiao [this world, the upper world], but have a care lest we are again afflicted by the evil works of that realm.” Mataora replied: “Not so. By the token of the punctured tattoo you have embellished me with, the ways of the underworld shall be my ways.” So the reconciled twain turned to ascend to the upper world.
As a parting gift Uetonga gave to Mataora the famous cloak called the Rangi-haupapa, which was the original after which were fashioned all the cloaks of this world. The belt that was intended to confine it was the originating pattern of all belts of this world. On their way to the ascent to this world the twain were stopped by Tiwaiwaka, the guardian of the base of that ascent, who detained them, refusing to allow them to ascend until the month of Tatau-uruora (November). At the proper time Tiwaiwaka (a bird name, the fantail) sent his young folk, Popoia (owl), and Peka (the bat); also Patatai (land rail) sent his, all to act as guides for Mataora. The latter feared that they would be slain, but Patatai told him to locate them in darkling haunts and gloomy places, hence the owl and bat are never seen in daytime, but move abroad only in the darkness. To see these birds at the haunts of man is a sign of bad luck to come. It is a token of ill-luck if a fantail enters a house. The patatai also brings misfortune in its train. These two birds, as also the whitehead were the birds that accompanied Maui when he assailed Hine of Rarohenga in order to gain eternal life for man.
When our wayfarers from Rarohenga arrived at the exit from the underworld, Te Kuwatawata, the guardian of that gateway, asked them what they were bearing away from the lower world. Mataora replied that they were taking only the birds and the art of tattooing. The guardian said to Niwareka: “What is the bundle on your back?” She replied that it merely contained some old garments. Said the Guardian: “Mataora! Never again shall the entrance to the underworld be free to living beings of the upper world; these shall pass downwards only as spirits; spiritual beings alone shall traverse both realms.” Mataora enquired: “For what reason?”
The guardian replied: “You have the Rangi-haupapa (cloak) with you. Why were you evasive?”
So it is that never again has living man passed those barriers; only spirits can do so.
After the return of Mataora to the upper world the art of tattooing by puncture became known, and the fame thereof spread to Awarau, to Tonga-nui, to Rangiatea, and to Hui-te-rangiora, these being islands in the region of Tawhiti. A messenger from Irihia arrived asking Mataora to go to that land, the home of Nuku-wahi-rangi.
The patterns of tattoo acquired by Mataora were the poniania, pihere, ngu and tiwhana. (The first and third are designs marked on the nose, the second at the side of the mouth, the fourth over the eyebrows). The tattooing of Niwareka was confined to a cross on each cheek, and one on the forehead, and the poniania. The pukauae and ngutu (tattooing on chin and lips) patterns are modern. Prior to the visit of Mataora to the underworld people marked devices on their faces with red ochre, white clay, and blue earth.
Such is the myth of Mataora and his fair Turehu bride Niwareka, given here in an abbreviated form. It is a story of considerable interest, and it is possible that it represents a remembrance of a genuine event that has, in the course of centuries, become embellished with myths and quaint fancies. The acquisition of the arts of tattooing by puncture, and of weaving, together with the account of a mode of dancing quite unknown to the Maori, seem to point to a voyage or journey during which was encountered a people practising
These mixtures of popular myths and fancies with the spiritual and other concepts of the Maori people, contain many confusing and even absurd statements. The Maori tells us that the souls of the dead descend to the spirit world, that these wairua (soul, spirit) can be seen by seers only, not by ordinary persons. They dwell in the underworld under the care of Hine, the ex-Dawn Maid. Yet the maids who visited this world are spoken of as creatures of flesh and blood, and their relatives of the underworld were found by Mataora building houses, cultivating food products, weaving garments, tattooing, and so on. These are scarcely occupations for spirits, one would suppose. The Maori seems to calmly accept all these inconsistencies, and makes no effort to explain them. There are two views that may be taken of this peculiar condition. In the first place we find, in studying Maori lore, that the subterranean spirit world has become confused with the old homeland of the race in the far west. This was probably the result of the belief that spirits of the dead accompanied the setting sun in its descent to the underworld. Any far distant land is, in Maori story, liable to be so confused with the spirit world. Here is another point: Niwareka, daughter of Uetonga, of Rarohenga, is said to have been a descendant of Hine-titama, erst the Dawn Maid, and Ruaumoko, the youngest child of the Earth Mother. So it appears that, in the underworld, there dwells a folk who are not spirits of the dead, but descendants of the Sky Father and Earth Mother through Tane, Hine-titama, and Ruaumoko.
In the story Mataora is asked to visit Irihia, the old homeland, in order to exhibit his tattooing, apparently going from eastern Polynesia. But the Maori tells us that the entrance to the spirit world is at Irihia, so that Mataora must have just come from there. Evidently these additions have been made to some old-time story without any attempt at explanation.
An interesting feature of the myth is the stress laid on the statement that the underworld is a realm wherein peace and harmony prevail, where the evils of the upper world are unknown. There is nothing to show that it is a region of darkness or gloom; certainly it is not one of suffering. However, on the arrival of our Christian missionaries, that lack was very soon attended to, and the dreadful horrors of a priestinvented hell were fully disclosed to the astonished Maori.
There is another version of this myth concerning the acquisition of the art of tattooing in the underworld. It was collected from natives of the South Island of New Zealand by the Rev.
Perhaps no aspect of Maori lore is more attractive than that illustrating his poetic mentality in connection with natural phenomena and origin myths. This is a subject well worthy of study, and of being recorded. In order to present some proof of the Maori genius for personification the following list of personified forms is given, a list that might be much extended. It extends into many departments of Nature, and includes in a few cases personified forms of abstractions, a somewhat rare occurrence in the myths of neolithic man.
The sun is personified in Tane, Tama-nui-te-ra, and Tama-uawhiti, the moon in Rongo and Hina. Hine-korako seems to personify a lunar bow or halo. The sky is personified in Rangi, and the earth in Papa. The latter is also sometimes alluded to as Tuanuku and Nuku. Watea personifies space, and Raro seems to represent the underworld. The
Pare-arohi personifies the quivering appearance of heated air as seen in summer. Mountains and ranges are personified
Land birds are personified in one Punaweko, sea birds in Hurumanu, though Tane, under his name of Tane-mataahi, represents birds generally. Then, again, many species have distinct personified forms; thus Tu-mataika personifies the brown parrot, Rupe the pigeon, Parauri the parson bird, Koururu the owl, Hine-karoro the seagull, Hine-tara the tern, Noho-tumutumu the cormorant, Moe-tahuna the duck, and so on.
Tane represents the forest, also all trees and birds. Forests are alluded to as Te Wao tapu nui a Tane, the very sacred forest of Tane. Rehua is also connected with forests, and when Tane visited Rehua, the latter is said to have regaled him with a repast of birds caught in his own hair, that hair being really the branches of trees. As in the case of birds we find that certain species of trees have special personified forms. Thus Hine-waoriki personifies the white pine, Momuhanga the totara, Hine-kaikomako the fire tree ( Pennantia corymbosa), Tauwhare-kiokio all tree ferns, and so on. Te Rara-taunga-rere represents the fruitfulness of trees, and Hine-rau-wharangi personifies growth. Then we have Te Pu-whakahara as representing the
All food supplies of man are personified in one Tahu, as illustrated in an old saying quoted when one declines a proffered meal: “Kei takahia a Tahu,” which is equivalent to saying: “Do not slight Tahu.”
Tangaroa represents all fish, but certain species have special personifications. The eel is thus personified in Puhi and Tuna, sharks in Takaaho, whales in Tutara-kauika, etc. Rakaiora personifies the lizard, Hine-huruhuru some form of glow worm, or luminous caterpillar. Even swamps are personified in Hine-i-te-huhi and Hine-i-te-repo.
Knowledge is personified in Rua, who has many names, as representing different departments, etc., of knowledge. Thus Rua-i-te-whaihanga represents the knowledge of the artisan, the craftsman, as of a housebuilder or canoe hewer; Rua-i-te-parakore seems to represent the knowledge of carving, while Rua-i-te-horahora personifies the diffusion of knowledge. All these Rua, of whom there are many, are said by some to be children of Tangaroa.
In Aitua we have a personified form of misfortune, who, in one version of Maori cosmogonic mythology, is said to have been a child of the primal parents Rangi and Papa. Sickness and disease are personified in Maiki-nui, Maiki-roa, and others of similar names. The above list of personifications is by no means a complete one, but it will serve to show how widespread was the personification system of the Maori. In order to understand the speech of the Native folk, more especially of those of the superior class, it was necessary that one should be acquainted with a great number of names of personified forms, and also many mythopoetic expressions, idioms, aphorisms, etc., that were frequently used. So common were these usages among the rangatira class that youths and young men of that class were compelled to devote a good deal of attention to the acquisition of such knowledge in order to acquire a facile and pleasing address in debate.
One would naturally expect to find a considerable amount of folk lore preserved by such a people as the Maori. An intelligent, quick-witted folk, who have been dauntless deep-sea voyagers in the past, who have wandered to many lands and over wide seas; who have, moreover, dwelt for long centuries in this rugged forest-clad land, must assuredly possess a wide range of folk tales. Nor are such tales lacking, for many have been collected and recorded, while many others, still unrecorded by us, may be heard among the natives as the result of enquiry. The recital of these tales
korero tara, korero paki, and korero purakau denote what we term folk lore. A large proportion of the folk tales of the Maori consists of stories concerning the doings and powers of taniwha, tipua and turehu, or monsters, demons and fairies. It is not proposed to insert in this chapter all available
stories, or illustrations of native folk tales, but merely to include sample specmiens of such productions. Many of these stories assuredly possess a moral, the commonest lesson taught by them being the danger of disregarding the laws of tapu. Some of these folk tales have been brought hither from the isles of Polynesia, of which fact some proof will be given, and apparently some have been carried hither from yet more remote sources.
As a specimen of the less common form of folk tales the following is given. It is a translation of a version collected by the late Mr. In days of old, in very remote times, a contest arose between the land birds and those of the ocean. The sea-
The trouble came about in this wise: The sea cormorant, in its flight, reached Whangape, and there encountered the river cormorant. The former was not offered any food by the river shag, and so remarked: “Friend! Let us go to my home by the salt sea, where food is plentiful.” So off they set and flew to the seaside, where the sea cormorant dived, caught a fish, and gave it to the river shag. The latter swallowed the fish, but had its throat sorely hurt by its spines, and so remarked: “Your food is no good; that of my place is much better.”
“What is the food of your place,” asked the sea bird.
“Eels, which, when swallowed, are smooth and slippery, and do not cause pain or injury. I say to you, let us go to my place.” The two birds flew inland to a river haunt of the land birds, where the river shag dived and caught an eel, and gave it to the sea bird, who swallowed it and brought it up again with ease. Quoth the sea bird: “O friend! Yours is indeed an excellent place, and your food supply a most desirable one. Now, friend, do you make over to me a part of your domain, and I will give you a part of mine in return.” “Not so,” replied the river cormorant; “I do not like your place.” Said the sea bird: “Very well, but ere long I will return and take your place from you.” So the sea bird returned to the ocean, there to raise an army to proceed inland and seize the fine realm of the river cormorants, whose food supplies were so desirable.
Now the river cormorant received news of the great invasion by the sea birds, and he set about assembling a force of land birds in order to resist the attack. Many tribes rose to the call. There came Kuku the Pigeon, and Kaka the Parrot, and Tui the Parson-bird, and Honge the Crow, and Ruru the Owl, and Pirakaraka the Fantail, and Pitoitoi the Robin, with many, many others. When all the bird folk had assembled the gloom of night had fallen across the world of light.
When Hine-ata (the Morning Maid—personified form of morning) arrived, then arose Pitoitoi the Robin, who aroused
Pi-toi-toi-toi!” So all awoke from sleep. Then said Kawau, the Cormorant: “Who will go forth as a scout to observe the advancing enemy?” Rose Koekoea the long-tailed Cuckoo: “I will go forth as scout. When you hear me call, you may know that the enemy is located.” So forth went Koekoea, and soon spied the army of sea birds approaching, with Karoro the Gull in the lead. Then the wild cry of Koekoea struck upon the ear: “Ko-o-o—e!” and Karoro the Gull shrieked “A-ha!” Then Koekoea returned and reported.
Kawau the Cormorant enquired: “Who will advance and challenge the enemy?” Said Pirakaraka the Fantail: “I will challenge the enemy.” Even so Pirakaraka went forth with his taiaha (a two-handed wooden weapon) to challenge the enemy, before whom he capered, glared, and grimaced after the manner of challengers, crying his defiance thus: “Tei! Tei! Tei!” Then to the column he returned, and sank to earth.
Again Kawau enquired: “Who will recite the war ritual over us?” Quoth Tui the Parson-bird: “I will conduct it; and let Honge the Crow commence the air of the chaunt, let Tiraueke the Saddleback intone the words, and Wharauroa the Short-tailed Cuckoo conclude the ritual, and Kuku the Pigeon make the final response.” And so Tui conducted the rite, and Honge gave the rhythmic air for intonation, and Tiraueke the words, and Wharau-roa concluded with his cry of “Kui! Kui! Kui! Whitiwhiti ora!” All these folk performed their parts, and then sat down, whereupon Kuku the Pigeon responded with his cry of “Ku.”
Once more Kawau enquired: “Who will commence the attack” Ruru the Owl rose, and said: “I will.” Uplifting his weapon Ruru advanced, his eyes glaring at the advancing multitude of sea birds, as he called to them: “You are brave. O, how brave you are; truly are you a gallant throng!” Such were the jeering words of Ruru.
Sprang forward Kaka the Parrot, glaring defiance as he advanced with his weapon, the o kaka stone, and screeching out: “Taka rere! Taka rere! Kia iro! Kia iro!” So met and closed in battle the hordes of sea and land birds. Long and fierce was the contest, and loud the ringing clamour
Ke-ke-ke-ke!”
Fled the sea birds to their own domain, while ever the land birds dwell in peace, losing no part of their estate to the sea folk. Indeed, it was the laughter of Parera that caused such a tumultuous flight, and never since have the sea birds returned.
We will now turn to another story of a similar nature, a story of some importance, for it deals with the peculiarities of the denizens of the realm of Kiwa, the folk of Tangaroa and Tinirau, that is to say with fish, and shows how, in the battle between the fish tribes and man, fish acquired their peculiar forms.
There was once a man who was much troubled owing to the indolence of his wife. Whenever he returned from a day's fishing she would carry home but a portion of his catch, throwing the balance away, lest she be too heavily laden, or have to make two trips to the beach. This sort of thing continued until the exasperated husband determined to seek a new home and a new wife. He therefore set off one fine day to escape from his troubles.
When the decamping husband entered the forest he repeated a charm in order to influence the forest deities, and the denizens of the forest. He said to the trees of the great forest of Tane: “Should my wife follow me into the forest, and ask questions of you, do not tell her aught of me, for she is a bad, indolent woman, one who wastes the food I procure.” To this the trees consented.
Our traveller fared on until he came to a stream, where he repeated another charm in order to influence the water spirits. He then said to the stream: “I am escaping from my wife, who is a deceitful and tiresome person. I go to seek an industrious wife and a new home. Should my wife follow me you will know her by her loud voice; do not betray me.” And the stream consented.
So the man trudged on over far lands until he came to an inland region where he was unknown, and to the folk of that place he related his story. They asked him to settle among them, which he did.
Now when his wife found that her husband did not return home as usual, she set forth in search of him. When she entered the forest of Tane she sought to gain news of him from the trees around her, asking: “O Trees! Has my husband passed along this path?” But no murmur came from the trees around her; all remained dumb. The woman then returned home and enquired of the fire as to the movements of her husband: “O, Fire! Tell me where is my husband?” But no word uttered the fire. She saw the gourd water vessel, and said to it: “O Gourd! I see that part of you so often touched by the lips of my husband; tell me by which way he went when he left me?” But no answer came from the gourd. She turned to the garments left by her husband, and said: “O Garments! Ye that have touched the body of my husband, thus becoming tapu, reveal to me the path by which he departed.” But silent remained those garments, no word was heard. She then addressed his fishing line: “O Line! You who have oft been grasped by the hands of my husband, and have heard him repeat his fish charms, tell me of him.” Silent remained that line. She turned and placed her hands on the lintel of the doorway, saying: “Door! Here is the space through which my husband passed in his goings and comings, here the parts his hands touched; tell me, I charge you, of his movements.” But the door stood dumb, saying no word.
Now the deserted wife sat her down and mourned for her husband, weeping and lamenting the night through until dawn arrived. Then, being athirst, she took the gourd water vessel, and drank therefrom. Then to that gourd there came a feeling of sympathy, of compassion for the lone woman, for, of all things in the hut, the gourd had been closest to her husband, his lips having touched it so many times. Even so the gourd said to her: “If you will break me I will conduct you to your husband; I will take you by the path he travelled; I will convey you over the stream he crossed.” The lone woman gladly accepted the offer; she broke the gourd, and
On arriving at the river the gourd conveyed the woman across it, but, on reaching the further bank all became confused. The gourd had lost its voice, it could no longer speak or act in an intelligent manner; its faculties had been seriously affected by the charmed waters it had crossed, charmed by the fleeing husband. So it was that the woman's pursuit of her husband came to nought, and she was compelled to return home.
The lone woman now despaired of ever being able to find her husband. She went to great Tangaroa, the King of all Fish, and told him of her troubles. Then Tangaroa called upon all the fish folk of Rangiriri to assemble, and they came in their multitudes, all the different tribes of fish hastened to obey the call of the great fish lord. The matter of the deserted wife was explained and discussed, and at length it was decided to attack the Man tribe, and so avenge the deserted wife. Great preparations were made for the coming battle. Previous to that time many unimportant frays had occured between fish and man, but no important battle had come off.
Tangaroa now called all the fish folk around him, and marshalled them in tribal companies, appointing a chief as leader of each company. These chiefs were named Kumu-kumu (gurnard), Parore (black perch), Haku (kingfish), Tamure (schnapper), Whai (stingray), Takeke (garfish), Patiki (flounder), and so on, a vast number of them. Each company adopted the name of its chief, while Tohora (whale) was appointed supreme commander over all the tribal companies. It is as well to explain here that, in those far back times, all fish were alike in form, all resembled the whale in shape, but differed much in size. You must remember that the whale is the oldest of all fish, it was the first to appear.
During his training of the fish folk Tohora always kept his own people in the rear. His object in doing so was the prevention of panics; so bulky are the forms of whales that they are useful in stopping a panic rush of small folk.
When Tohora the Whale commanded the great Fish Army to advance and attack the Man tribe, the company of Kumu-kumu (gurnard) was the first to close in battle. Desperate indeed was the fighting that ensued, and many were slain. So fierce was the fray that those of the gurnard folk who survived were covered with blood, hence the red colour of that fish even unto this day. Also they moaned in anguish over the slaughter of their kin, hence the moaning of the gurnard when caught by man.
Parore, the Black Perch, now led his tribe into battle, where, in the fierce combat, his followers became besmirched with the dried blood of the gurnard folk, hence the colour of the perch as now seen by man.
Now waged furiously the battle, as the fish tribes strove valiantly to destroy the Man tribe, and many were slain on both sides. Then it was seen that the companies of Haku (kingfish), of Tamure (schnapper), and yet others were pressed, driven back, and so retired. Whereupon Tohora, the Whale Commander, brought up his reserve of Leviathans, when before those huge creatures, and their massive strength, the Man tribe gave way, broke and fled. Thus victory passed to the sea-folk, and so ended the great contest between the Fish tribes and the Man tribe.
Then Tangaroa assembled his victorious army and praised the sea folk for the valour they had displayed, commending them for their persistent gallantry. In token thereof he resolved to grant a boon to the sea folk, to each of the tribes that had fought in the great battle. Likewise the spoils of the battlefield were to be theirs. Now the Fish tribes set about collecting the spoils, and making known their requests to great Tangaroa. Whai found a spear having two rows of barbs along its point; he asked that he might have a tail like that spear; hence you see the stingray provided with such a tail. Tamure, the Schnapper; found a wahaika club and asked that one of
Thus each chief gained the boon he craved, and all his followers assumed the form and appearance of their chief; hence we now see fish of many forms and many hues. It is now quite clear as to how the different kinds of fish became possessed of their particular forms and colours.
The moral of the above tale is not quite evident to the present writer, and it is quite possible that we have in the above narrative a combinaton of two different tales. Apparently the refugee husband was either slain or grievously wounded, which seems a somewhat severe punishment for wife desertion; neither was the wife above reproach.
In the following folk tale, “The Battle Between Dogs and Lizards,” we have a sample of many quaint stories formerly related by the Maori folk:—
It is well known that in the old, old days of our ancestors lizards became exceedingly numerous, because they multiplied apace after the escape of the tail of the great reptile called Te Whakaruaki. Also dogs were very much more numerous in those times; they roamed in packs over the country, and had never been tamed by man.
One day a dog and a lizard chanced to meet on a certain path, and, ere long, they fell a-quarrelling. At last both retired and told their friends how grievously they had been insulted. So all the dogs assembled in order to discuss the matter, and all the lizards did the same. It was resolved that the two tribes should fight the matter out. In the strenuous fighting that ensued the dogs were victorious, and, having conquered and slain a great many lizards, they set to work and ate them. It was this eating of lizards that so affected the fertility of dogs, and is the true cause of dogs being so much less numerous in these days.
In Maori folk lore we meet with many stories concerning taniwha, huge monsters of man-killing tendencies that are said to have existed in these isles in past times. Our acquaintance with these myths dates from the days of Captain Cook, and some early writers deem it possible that these tales contained an element of truth. They are certainly remarkable illustrations of versimilitude, so marked are they by precise and detailed accounts of the location and doings of these monsters, and of encounters between them and men. Most of them are described as being water-dwelling creatures of saurian form, while a few are said to have inhabited caves; few were harmless, and most of them were man slayers and man eaters. Some of these wild tales appear to have been introduced from Polynesia and localised here; probably many were evolved here by a folk who had been conceiving similar myths for many centuries in other lands. Some writers see in the huge, man-eating saurians of Maori folk lore a remembrance of the crocodile of the western Pacific or of Asia, and this may be so. The man-destroying taniwha of native myth are often described as resembling great lizards, and indeed are often called by the same name, moko. This word moko is a name for the crocodile in one part of the western Pacific. The word taniwha is also the name of a species of shark.
The circumstantial aspect of these folk tales is remarkable. Captain Cook gives us the following passage concerning information gained from a South Island native: “We had another piece of intelligence from him … though not confirmed by our own observations, that there are snakes and lizards there of an enormous size. He described the latter as being eight feet in length, and as big round as a man's body. He said they sometimes seize and devour men; that they burrow in the ground, and that they are killed by making fires at the mouths of the holes. We could not be mistaken as to the animal, for, with his own hand, he drew a very good representation of a lizard on a piece of paper, as also of a snake, in order to show what he meant.”
Now this feckless tale of snakes and of lizards eight feet in length in New Zealand was simply the result of imagination. Doubtless that native could depict a lizard,
Sphenodon punctuatum attains a length of about sixteen inches, but no Maori of Cook's time knew of the existence of land snakes.
Monsters of the taniwha type have been believed in the world over. Water monsters and dragons appear in Babylonian myths. In Borneo are found genuine taniwha, crocodiles that attain a length of fifteen to twenty-five feet in some cases. The Sarawak natives destroy man-eating crocodiles on all possible occasions, often catching them with a wooden hook, or a gorge. When such a man-eater is caught it is ripped open in search for human remains, and is then cut in
pieces. In many of our local taniwha stories we are told that the beast's stomach was opened, and human remains found therein, as also garments and weapons that belonged to those consumed ones.
Nicholas, who was in New Zealand in 1814-15, remarks that the native description of the taniwha described closely the alligator.
The Maori tells us that these taniwha and all mokopeke (lizards) originated with one Tu-te-hurutea, offspring of Tane and Hine-maunga, the Mountain Maid. We occasionally hear of cases of transmigration wherein a person has, after death, reappeared in the world of life in the form of a taniwha, or marakihau, the latter being a mythical sea denizen.
We will now discourse a while on the peculiarities of the genus taniwha, and relate a few of the many tales concerning them, as preserved by the Maori. The following is a northern story, “The Taniwha of Kaipara”:—
It was in days long past away, in times truly remote, that three women of a hamlet situated south of Kaipara went into the adjacent forest for the purpose of collecting
tawa berries. Having wandered afar in their search for berries, they were surprised to come across a smooth, wide path evidently much used. They followed this path for some distance until they came to what seemed to be the end of it, where a fence or barrier existed, overgrown with a dense growth of climbing plants. They now resolved to return homeward, when all at once a taniwha appeared and pursued them. The women fled in dismay, but the creature soon caught one of them. Seeing, however, that she was but ill looking, the taniwha released her, and pursued her companions. He succeeded in capturing another, but she, too, was ugly, and so he let her escape and gave chase to the third. On his catching her he found her to be young and good looking, and so he took her away to the cave which served him as a home. Her companions found their way back to their home.
The captive woman was unable to escape, and so was compelled to live with the taniwha as his wife. She bore six children to him, three of whom were monsters like their father, while the other three were of human form. She taught her taniwha children the arts of weaving and cooking, but her human offspring she trained in the arts of war, to bear arms, to thrust, strike and parry with spear and club, hence they became expert in such exercises.
One day during the absence of her taniwha husband, the captive wife said to her children: “Let us all go to the forest streams and catch eels.” So off they went, and, when far within the forest solitudes, she proposed that her human sons should exhibit their skill in the use of their weapons. While they were so exhibiting their skill, she prompted them to attack and slay the three monster children, which they did. The mother then proposed that they should return home and seek an opportunity to attack and slay the taniwha, so that they might all escape from so odious a creature. On arriving at the cave home they found the taniwha fast asleep therein, whereupon the three youths at once attacked and slew him; they cut off all his limbs and left the remains lying in the cave.
The mother now set off to return to her old home, taking her three sons with her. After walking a long way she began to recognise the outlines of some of the distant hills, and at length they arrived at her home village. Now was the hapless woman welcomed by the survivors of her old-time friends, welcomed with tears, and song, and many speeches.
It was now decided that the villages should make a journey to the cave in order to cook and eat the body of the taniwha. On arriving at the cave they prepared a huge steam oven and placed therein for cooking the severed pieces of the monster's body. The oven was carefully covered, and preparations made for the coming feast. When, however, the oven was opened up, the people were amazed to see the severed portions of the monster's body join together, the limbs attach themselves to the body, and the taniwha regain life. The monster at once attacked the assembled people, killing many. The survivors fled in many directions, some to the sea coast; these were pursued by the monster, who caught one woman and threw her into the sea. At length he became wearied, whereupon the terrified fugitives mustered up courage to attack him, and so he was slain a second time. Now his body was cut into many pieces and each piece was separately burned, while from his bones were fashioned fish hooks and spear points. Thus was that odious monster slain for all time.
The woman who had been cast into the sea by the monster was saved and nurtured by the gods. They enveloped her in a mass of sponge which, after long drifting about in the ocean, was cast up on the beach at Waiarohia. It was there seen and opened by some fishermen, who found the woman inside it still alive, and so she was returned to her friends and home.
Such is the marvellous story of the Taniwha of Kaipara, as related by old Whakaue in the year 1847.
A well-known taniwha name is Te Whakaruaki, or Kaiwhakaruaki, and variant forms of the story of this creature have been recorded from a number of places in both islands. The following is a North Island version of the story of Te Whakaruaki, and how lizards came to lose their tails:—
This monster resembled a lizard in form, but was of a huge size, and repulsive appearance. He dwelt in a cave in
As time rolled on the captive woman gave birth to a child that was half lizard and half human in form, a truly disagreeable creature to look upon. Now one day the woman went to the stream, taking with her a vessel in which to obtain a supply of water; as usual the rope was attached to her hair. On entering the forest she severed the cord by cutting it with a shell knife, and then tied the end of the cord to a slight, pliant sapling, so that, when the monster pulled the cord, he would believe that it was still attached to her hair. The woman now fled through the forest and made her way home to her people. Here, after many plans had been discussed for the destruction of the monster, it was resolved that he be asked to visit them and that a special house be constructed for his accommodation. On the arrival of the monster he was welcomed by the people, his captive wife rejoined him, and they abode together in the new house.
After the monster and the woman had lived together for some time, the people took advantage of his absence one day, and made preparations for his destruction. They procured a block of wood, wrapped the woman's garments around it, and laid it on her sleeping place. On the return of the monster he entered the house, whereupon the people secured the door and window and set fire to the house. On hearing the roaring of the fire Te Whakaruaki called out to ask the meaning of the sound, and was told that it was the wind roaring in the trees. At last the whole house was in flames, and the monster attempted to escape. Not so; there was no escape; in vain he strove to pass through the burning walls. So perished the monster Te Whakaruaki in the raging flames. But not the whole of him, for, strange to relate, his tail escaped; it became separated from his body, wriggled out through the wall of fire, and sought refuge in the forest.
Now the tail of Te Whakaruaki was the origin of the species of lizard known as moko papa (the tree lizard,
Dactylocnemus pacificus), and ever since the remarkable occurence described above lizards have possessed the power of shedding their tails.
These folk tales concerning women being carried off by ogres of lizard form were also current at Tahiti. (See Walpole's “Four Years in the Pacific,” Vol. 2.)
In another such story contributed by one Te Whetu, of the Atiawa tribe, the taniwha bears the name of Te Kaiwhakaruaki. This monster dwelt in the Nelson district, and became the terror of the place by destroying travellers proceeding to Takaka and Motueka, well-known places in that region. The story appearel in Vol. 3 of the Journal of the Polynesian Society. It was over twenty years after collecting that myth from Te Whetu that I met a certain native of Tahaa Isle, of the Society Group of eastern Polynesia. He gave me some interesting notes concerning that isle, and told that a man-destroying monster named ” Aifa'arua'i lived on a small islet called Motue'a, at Tahaa (Taha'a) in ancient times. In these names I at once recognised the Maori names of Kai-whakaruaki and Motueka, remembering, as I did, the dropped k of the Taha'a dialect, and the f as used instead of the Maori wh. Near the islet of Motue'a is, said my informant, another islet named Ta'a'a,' and here is our Takaka of New Zealand. This story of the man-slaying monster must have been introduced here by the ancestors of our Maori folk, as also the place names connected with it, when they moved down from eastern Polynesia to New Zealand.
Another taniwha name met with in both islands of New Zealand is that of Ngarara-huarau. In one of these stories the monster is said to have been slain at Tupurupuru, Wairarapa district. The method employed in ridding the district of this pest was emphatically a novel one. A number of trees in the forest were “scarfed” so as to be near falling. A dog was then sent to lure the monster in among the trees, whereupon his huge body coming into contact with the scarfed trees caused them to fall, and the falling of many trees caused his death.
In some cases the taniwha stories unquestionably contain a moral, and so we may assume that they were invented, or at least approved of, by the priesthood. The following,
Taniwha, or the danger of breaking the laws of tapu,” is a specimen of such stories:—
In olden times a certain young woman named Parekawa was employed by her father to cut his hair. As he was a
tapu person the hair-cutter became tapu, a condition that continued for some days. While she was in this condition a number of visitors arrived at the hamlet, and Parekawa, with culpable thoughtlessness, assisted in the task of preparing food for the guests. By thus coming into contact with crooked food, she of course violated one of the principal laws of tapu, and so not only was the protection of the gods withdrawn in her case, but she also became exposed to many dangers.
Soon after the above occurrence it was noticed that Parekawa had changed much in appearance and in manner. Ere long she became as one demented, and finally she fled to the forest, where she lived no one knew how. On being pursued by her friends one day she leaped into a river and disappeared. Her friends thought that she had been drowned, but not so; she had been carried off by Peketahi the taniwha. This being dwelt with his kindred apparently in some subterranean region, for he conducted Parekawa through the water and through the earth until they emerged in the region where dwelt the strange taniwha folk. These seem to have been a peculiar breed of taniwha, for the story tells us that they lived in houses and cultivated food products. These strange beings offered food to Parekawa, but Peketahi, who was the chief of the taniwha folk, warned her not to partake of it, or never more would she look upon the world of light.
It was now apparent to Parekawa that Peketahi was by no means a vindictive enemy, and, ere long, he allowed her to return to the upper world, guided by one of the taniwha folk. She was given very careful instructions as to how to proceed, and was told to pass through the water to her old home, and there gain the tuahu or sacred place of the village without being seen by her people. Now while dwelling with the strange underground folk Parekawa had lost some of her human attributes, but had acquired some strange ones from them, and so she was enabled to pass under water up the Puniu river until she arrived at her old home. Here, how-
tapu place of the village. Owing to this misadventure her guide took her back to the subterranean demon world.
Parekawa was now much cast down, and despaired of ever again seeing home and friends, for she had lost her human aspect, and had acquired the appearance of the demon folk of the underworld. Here again Peketahi stood her friend, however, and he himself conducted her back to her home. This time she was successful in gaining the tapu place without being observed. Now came her father to her, who, by performing a certain rite over her, restored to her human form, appearance, and attributes.
Ever, in after times, the story of Parekawa was repeated as a warning to persons not to disregard the laws of tapu, lest they be carried off by demons to dismal regions of the nether world.
The name mokonui was applied to taniwha of former times, the two words meaning big or huge reptile. Thus we hear of one Mokonui who in olden days infested the Patea river, and of Mokonui who was slain by the Wai-rarapa folk in days of yore.
The story of the slaying of Tutae-poroporo, the great taniwha scourge of the Whanganui river, by the gallant hero Aokehu, is a moving one, as showing the desperate situations in which a dragon slayer may find himself. This Aokehu had himself enclosed in a stout wooden vessel which was then cast into the river and allowed to float down it. It was seized and swallowed by the monster as easily as it had swallowed canoes laden with people. Now Aokehu emerged from the great chest into the stomach of the monster, drew his cutting implement of sharks teeth, and cut his way out to the world of light through the body of the hapless taniwha, who died from the effects of this rude treatment.
In some cases these taniwha lived in caves, in others they were water dwellers, and yet others dwelt underground. One known as Te Kuri nui a Meko (the Great Beast of Meko) resided in a cave near Waikare-moana. This monster was a man slayer, and was eventually killed by a number of men who constructed a large and very strong taiki, a kind of cage
My genial old friend, Hurae Puketapu, of the Waimako, near the above-mentioned cave, tells me that the proper name of the Beast of Meko was Hau-taruke. Meko flourished fifteen generations ago. He was a being of supernormal characteristics, but had a human brother named Kura-tawhiti, whose descendants are still dwelling in the district. One of his descendants, named Tuwhai, who lived nine generations ago, was the leader of the party of braves who slew Hau-taruke. Meko and his brother were of the fourteenth generation in descent from Mahutonga. The precise spot where the above monster was slain is known as Whakamarino.
The Tuhoe folk apply the names tuoro and hore to huge mythical monsters believed to live underground, where they seem to move about somewhat freely. They are said to form great chambers and tunnels in so moving about, and sometimes uproot great trees during their progress. A cave in the bank of the Whirinaki river at Te Whaiti is known as Te Ana tuoro (the Tuoro Cave). One of these monsters is said to have lived in the pond or lakelet named Otara, on the summit of Maunga-pohatu. This creature is said to have formed, in olden days, the deep gorge through which the Waikare stream now runs, on its way to join the Whakatane river. Another creature spoken of in some parts is the tuna tuoro, described as resembling a large eel. It is heard of in both islands. A Waikato native stated that its touch paralysed a person, and that it pursued persons on land as well as in the water. The names of puku tuoro and kumi are heard occasionally, as applied to some species of taniwha.
In both islands we have places named Te Rua o te Moko, which may be rendered as “The Den of the Moko.” Presumably they were held to have been occupied by taniwha in former times.
In Hine-korako we have a taniwha of the female sex who lives, or formerly lived, in the deep pool under the falls of Te Reinga, in the Wairoa district. This creature is said to
genus homo some fifteen generations ago, and to have lived with him as his wife. Owing, however, to unpleasant personal remarks made by the women of the village, Hine eventually retired to her former home beneath the dark waters of Te Reinga. Prior to her retirement, however, she bore a son to Tanekino, who was named Tuarenga, and from this man many natives claim descent.
South Island natives report that the pouakai was a huge bird of prey that formerly existed in those parts, and carried off persons from the native villages. One of Mr. Beattie's native contributors, however, stated that pouakai was the old native name of the huge extinct moa (Dinornis).
The small lakelet known as Waingaro, on the summit of Maunga-pohatu, was formerly occupied by a taniwha named Rongo-te-mauriuri. We are told by the Tama-kai-moana folk, who dwell under the Enchanted Mountain, that a certain ancestor of theirs was once pursued by the fearsome Rongo, and narrowly escaped destruction. He had, however, the presence of mind to pluck a hair from his head, cast it into the agitated red waters of Waingaro, and repeat the Whakaeo charm, when, behold, instantly the taniwha retired, the rolling waters became calm, and the world of life was regained!
In days gone by I had an opportunity to peruse a manuscript collection of Maori lore made by one of the most famous of early collectors. It contained an account of the slaying of what the collector described as a “large guano,” in past times. The description of the attack of the “guano” on the hero and his dog was a thrilling one, but need not be described here. Eventually that “guano” was overcome by the enraged populace, and so perished miserably.
Lest our readers weary of taniwha we will not discuss more of these numerous dragon myths of the Maori, but there are other strange creatures to be mentioned. Amongst these are certain denizens of the ocean, sometimes described as taniwha. Such is the famous Ruamano, who is said to have been the offspring of Tutara-kauika. This latter name seems to be a proper name for the right whale, and both these creatures were appealed to for assistance by the Maori when in
Whereupon, we are told, the monsters of the deep would come to the rescue and bear the supplicants to land. This Ruamano was one of the sea monsters that acted as convoy to the Takitumu canoe on its long voyage from eastern Polynesia to New Zealand. A taniwha bearing the same name is said to have occupied the Papuni lake in former times.
Paikea is the name of another species of whale that was appealed to by mariners in distress, and the names of these creatures are encountered in old religious formulæ. The Maori also possessed a vague, ill-defined belief in certain beings of supernormal nature who dwelt far out in the ocean wastes, and who have been known to succour human beings. This is made evident in the story of Maui, and also in the curious myth of Uenuku-rangi and Uenuku-titi. In this tale the sea folk are termed Tini o Te Petipeti and they succoured and reared the immature offspring of Uenuku, as they did in the case of Maui.
Yet another peculiar sea folk are the weird beings called marakihau. These are described as being of human form and as possessing long tubular tongues termed ngongo. They are a kind of sub-species of taniwha and are credited with swallowing through their ngongo appendages not only men but also canoes. This myth may be based on observation, on the strange appearance of such creatures as the sea elephant, for example. In Maori carved work we sometimes see representations of marakihau, which are depicted as having heads and bodies of human form, with the tail of a fish in lieu of legs. The ngongo is also shown in a most prominent manner, projecting far from the mouth, and having a large bell-mouthed orifice.
Several stories are on record in which the Maori claims that certain ancestors of his were, after death, transformed into marakihau. In the tribal meeting house of the Tuhoe folk of Ruatahuna, known as Te Whai a te motu, are carved
marakihau, and this represents Te Tahi o te rangi, an ancestor who lived at Whakatane, and who became a marakihau after his death. This man was once marooned on Whakaari (White Island) by enemies, and escaped from that weird isle by calling upon the monsters of the deep to carry him to Whakatane on the mainland. His people wished him to raise an armed force and attack those who had served him so ill a turn, but his answer, which has passed into a proverbial utterance, was: “Waiho ma te whakama e patu.” (Leave them to be punished by shame.)
In some cases one hears of weird creatures of yore whom it is difficult to classify; they may be supernormal man-like beings, or monsters of the taniwha type possessing the power to assume different forms. The natives of the Whanganui valley told me of a strange being that dwelt in that river in days of old. A woman dwelling in a village on the river bank was visited nightly by a strange creature who appeared from the river, and whose skin was unpleasantly cold and clammy. It was discovered that he was a water denizen, and that he left the river each night in order to visit the woman. The village folk determined to destroy this creature, and so surrounded the woman's house early one morning, and slew the intruder as he was returning to his haunts in the river. The body of the river man was cut to pieces, and then the people heard, to their great amazement, the severed and scattered parts of the body actually singing a song. That song has been preserved by the natives of those parts.
We have now to deal with another class of supernormal creatures, and supernormal objects. The latter serve as illustrations of animatism, which, says the Handbook of Folk Lore, is the attribution of life and personality to things, but not a separate or apparitional soul. The word tipua, of which tupua is a variant form, is applied to anything of a supernatural or supernormal nature, hence it may be applied to a person, an animal, or to an inanimate object, or rather to objects deemed inanimate by us. It equals our terms demon and goblin, and is sometimes applied to taniwha. In our own folk tales the word “enchanted” would often be rendered as tipua by a Maori, thus such an abnormal object as an enchanted
rakau tipua. The first European visitors to New Zealand were called tipua. In parts of the western Pacific the word tipua means spirit, and it must very frequently have that meaning assigned to it here.
Although a tipua log, tree, or rock would probably possess supernatural powers, yet it is not well to classify them as atua; in many cases such a tipua may be styled a genius loci. In most cases natives cannot explain how a certain object came to be viewed as a tipua.
At Samoa deified spirits of chiefs are termed tupua, and the word denotes wizardry and wizards in several regions of Polynesia. In the Paumotu group tupua means a ghost. In some dialects, as that of Mangareva, the word equals to hunga, as denoting a wise man, an adept. At Niue the word carries much the same meaning as in New Zealand, and in the latter land it includes anything that we would describe as uncanny.
It is doubtful if any Maori could give a lucid explanation of a tipua. Take, for instance, a rakau tipua. The Maori believes that tree to be possessed of certain supernormal powers, and, in fact, to be what we must term a sentient being. The spirit or abnormal qualities that it possesses emanated in many cases from some defunct tribesman. The wairua or soul of that person passed to the spirit world at his death; such is the common belief, yet a native will tell you that the wairua of the deceased is enshrined in the tipua object, tree or stone. Such contradictory statements and discrepancies are often encountered by those who sojourn among barbaric folk. Tylor has given us some highly interesting matter concerning this belief in what he calls Embodiment in his chapters on animism.
This question of tipua objects is so closely allied with the subject of uruuru whenua that the two cannot be separated. This phrase denotes a remarkable custom that seems to have been known in all parts of the world, namely the depositing of simple offerings at certain places. In many lands the offerings consisted of stones cast at the base of a so-called sacred tree, or rock, and the object was to avert some misfortune or ensure good fortune of some nature. With the Maori it was a placation of the local gods or spirits of the land, and the offerings he made consisted of a branchlet, or handful of
ngerengere (syn. mumutu, a form of leprosy), he would cast a stone on the spot, lest he be afflicted by the malady.
In most, if not all cases, the objects at which the simple uruuru whenua ceremony was performed, were viewed as tipua, and such places were treated with respect. As to the origin of a tipua rock or tree, should an important person chance to die while on a journey, or should bearers of a corpse stop at a place to rest, then any prominent stone, rock or tree at on near such spot might be viewed henceforth as representing the defunct one, and as a tipua. Natives have told me that it absorbed the wairua or soul of the deceased, which endowed the tipua object with mana or force, inherent powers. Travellers would deposit their simple offering at such an object, not only to secure good luck, such as fine weather for their journey, but also to uphold the mana of the tipua, that is the innate powers of the talismanic object. The offering, and the brief utterance accompanying it, showed that the observers still kept green the memory of their ancestor and still upheld his mana. A stream in which a dead body has been washed has been treated as a tipua, and in this case the offering consisted in some cases of a stone cast into it. Should any witless person pollute a tipua object by taking near it any cooked article of food, it was believed that the powers of the wairua vivifying the tipua would destroy such person. Natives tell us that, occasionally, when a seer was a member of a party travelling across unknown lands, he would be able to detect any tipua object passed on the way because his spiritual vision enabled him to see the wairua that animated the object. Here it would appear that the wairua or spirit was not enshrined in the object but hovering about it. Branchlets or leaves of the kawakawa and karamu (Piper excelsum and Coprosma sp.) were favoured offerings to an uruuru whenua, those two trees being much employed in ritual performances.
The following are specimen charms as repeated when making an offering to a tipua:—
This address calls upon the spirit of the tipua to retain its mana, its force and powers, for all time. Should a traveller not be acquainted with one of these longer utterances, he would repeat a short sentence, such as: “ Ina au, taku aitu, taku arangi,” Which acknowledges the tapu of the place.
The above ceremony is known as tuputupu the Whanganui district. If the offering was neglected by a passer-by, then that traveller would be assailed by bad weather. Some of the tipua stones would, if moved by any person, return to their original resting places of their own accord. So sayeth the Maori.
In his work on the natives of northern India, Mr. W. Crooke writes: “No Tharu will venture along a jungle path without casting a leaf, branch or twig on the pile of rude stones which forms the shrine of Bansapti Ma, the dread mother-goddess of the forest.”
Many of the natural objects viewed tipua were also objects of the uruuru whenua ceremonial. A number of tipua rocks at Waikare-moana possess the power to cause a rain or wind storm, and exercise their powers if touched in an unwarrantable manner. Or rather they did so, for they no longer possess such powers in these days of the intrusive pale-skinned Pakeha.
The two sacred stones obtained by Tane the uppermost of the twelve heavens are sometimes termed tipua i.e., kowhatu tipua, or supernatural stones.
Some of our tipua of these isles have visted for long periods. When, some five hundred years ago, Tamatea was sojourning in the South Island, he was annoyed by his wife's continued lament for their old home in eastern tern Polynesia. In order to quieten the homesick one he subjected her to a
matapou, whereby he transformed her into a block of stone, thus procuring her silence for all time. On continuing his journey he left his slave Kopuwai and his two dogs at the place as guardians over his wife Turihuka. As he went on his way he heard the dogs howling, and he knew that Kopuwai had abandoned them. He therefore again had recourse to the matapou, which he “projected” with such force as to turn Kopuwai into a mokopeke (lizard) and the two dogs into stones. Those stone dogs existed as tipua until the arrival of Europeans destroyed the mana of old-time Maori institutions.
One occasionally hears of tipua birds (or bird tipua), and one of the most remarkable of these is Hine-ruarangi, who is said to haunt the gorge of the Whirinaki river at Te Whaiti. This creature was originally a woman, who lived long centuries ago, and who, when she died, was transformed into a bird, a cormorant. As for the reason of this peculiar transformation, legend appears to be silent. Here the tipua bird has lived for something like seven centuries, and it has, for ten generations past, acted as the tribal banshee of the Ngati-Whare folk dwelling in that region. Prior to the death of a chief of those people, or to a defeat at the hands of tribal enemies, this bird of ill omen has ever appeared, hovering over the village home.
In a number of places I have been told by natives of tipua logs that float about on lakes for generations. These tipua logs, trees, stones, etc., always had special names assigned to them, and are, in some cases, the centre of some curious myth. Rakai-ruru was the name of a log that drifted to and fro on the waters of Lake Wai-rarapa for many years. Should any one touch it, then next day it would have disappeared. Tutaua was the name of a log that drifted for generations across Lake Waikare-Moana. It was said to sing plaintive songs as it so drifted about, and one grizzled old mountaineer assured me that, in his younger days, when living on the lake shore, he had heard, in the dead of night, the enchanted log singing its weird song. At such a time the Maori folk would say, one to another: “Ko Tutaua e waiata haere ana” (It is Tutaua singing as it goes). Perhaps
Ngapaenga rau to Waiwaia” (the many stranding places of Waiwaia), became a well-known local apothegm. Thus it is often heard in conversation as an apt quotation.
On this subject of tipua one might discourse for hours, but let the above illustrations suffice. These are the folk tales one so often hears when travelling with, or sojourning among, our natives, more especially when they know that one is interested in such stores. Much evidence of an interesting nature connected with animatism may be collected among such a people as the Polynesians.
Mountains are ever impressive objects to man, be he savage, barbaric or civilised. Down through the changing centuries has the Maori preserved names of mountains in the old homeland of the Polynesian race. For these he has had a sentimental regard, and, in some cases, he has bestowed such names on mountains and hills in his wanderings, as he ever carried old-place names with him from isle to isle. Such old mountain names as Aorangi, Hikurangi, Tipua-o-te-rangi, Rehia, Maunganui, and Tawhito-o-te-rangi. Hakurangi is a hill name at Tahiti, Rarotonga, and in many parts of New Zealand. Aorangi occurs at Tahiti and in New Zealand.
The Maori also was wont to honour some prominent hill or mount on his tribal lands, which hill might be tapu, and would certainly often be referred to in many ways. Much of myth pertains to mountains and high forest ranges in Maoriland. They were often believed to be frequented by fairies, or other weird creatures.
The following is one of the most extraordinary uses to put hills to that has come to my knowledge. When the long-drawn-out bush warfare between the Tuhoe and Kahu-ngunu tribes came to an end, the daughter of a leading chief of the latter people was given in marriage to a Tuhoe chief, in order to cement the peace making. In addition to this a tatau pounamu (jade door) was erected, to employ the native metaphor. Two hills named Kuha-tarewa and Tuhi-o-kahu,
The Maori folk tell of weird happenings in the mist-laden days of long ago, when mountains were endowed with powers of speech and locomotion. Thus we hear of the great company of mountains that formerly stood in the Taupo district, and of the dissensions that arose among them, whereby they became separated, some moving to other parts. Sexual jealousy seems to have been the cause of the quarrel, which resulted in a dispersal of the mountain folk, some of whom, as Tongariro, Ruapehu, and Ngauruhoe, remained at the old home. Taranaki (Mt. Egmont) went westward, and, in his passage towards the coast, formed the deep valley of the Whanganui river. His former site is now occupied by the lake Roto-a-ira. He had quarrelled with Tongariro over the latter's wife, one Pihanga, a high bush-clad hill near Roto-a-ira, for whom he had a great admiration. This is how it came about that Taranaki left Taupo somewhat hurriedly. He wandered up the coast and rested a while at Te Ngaere, causing by his huge weight a depression of considerable area, which was filled by what we call the Ngaere swamp. Proceeding on his journey Taranaki reached his present position when day broke, and the advent of daylight put an end to his journeying. The guide of this straying mountain was Te Toka a Rauhotu (the Rock of Rauhotu), a block of rock now seen near Cape Egmont. Now when you see the summit of Taranaki shrouded in mist, rain, or cloud, know that he is weeping for his old love Pihanga. When Tongariro fumes and smokes, it is evidence of his undying anger toward the banished Taranaki. The Rock of Rauhotu, it may be said, has some designs incised on it, and it was formerly viewed as a tipua. An old song tells us that Pihanga was given by Rangi the Sky Parent as a wife to Tongariro, and so she brought forth rain, winds and storms.
At the time of the dispersal referred to above three other important members migrated northwards. These were Kakaramea (Rainbow Mountain), Putauaki (Mt. Edgecumbe), and Maunga-pohatu. The last-named is a female, and was the wife of Rainbow Mountain, but the twain could not agree as to what direction they should move in, hence they separated, and are now far apart. The wife said: “Let us go eastward to the red sun.” Said the husband: “Not so. My desire is toward the north.” Replied the Rocky Mountain: “Be it so. Then I shall here cook a meal for myself and our children, and proceed with them to the east, there to seek a new home.” Even so they separated, and, when the coming of day caused them to halt, Rainbow Mountain became fixed at Wai-o-tapu, Mt. Edgecumbe near Te Teko, but Maunga-pohatu got further afield, and stands afar off looking down on two seas. The young mountain folk, being light-footed, strayed yet further, for Tapanaua (a large rock in the Tauranga river) reached Te Wai-iti; Te Toka a Houmea (a mass of rock near Whakatane), Toka-tapu and Hingarae (rocks at the entrance to the Whakatane river) almost reached the ocean, while Moutohora (Whale Island) got right out to sea. Whakaari (White Island) and Paepae-aotea (a rocky islet near by) are the furthest outposts of the young mountain folk.
Now Putauaki (Mt. Edgecumbe) had two wives, Whatiura and Pohatu-roa, from whom he got separated, hence we see the last-named now standing at Atiamuri. It is the conspicuous rock mesa at that place, formerly occupied as a native stronghold. So was it that Edgecumbe waxed lonely standing out there on the great plain, and his desire was towards Maunga-pohatu, and so it came about that he sang a song to express his feelings, a song still treasured by the brown-skinned folk of the Land of Awa.
The last of these peripatetic mountain folk is Rua-wahia, who, in his journey northward, encountered a famed magician called Te Mahoihoi, an ogre of marvellous powers. The two quarrelled and came to blows, when the ogre struck so fierce a blow that he cleaved in twain the head of Rua-wahia, which act was the origin of the name of the mountain (wahi=to break, split).
The tribal mountains referred to are often spoken of as being closely associated with the people. Thus Maungapohatu is spoken of by the local natives as being their mother. Cloud, mist, rain and lightning effects seen on such a height all convey some meaning to the superstitious and credulous Maori. Again there is a general personified form of all mountains in the form of one Hine-maunga, the Mountain Maid, referred to elsewhere in this neolithic chronicle.
In Maori folk lore we encounted a number of tales in which reference is made to strange beings encountered by voyagers in far lands, such beings as the Nuku-maitore, who dwelt in trees, and folk who knew not the use of fire. Some of these creatures are mentioned in the tale of Hine-poupou, a woman who is credited with having swum across Cook Straits in the days when wondrous things happened in the world of light. An old native has explained to us that such tales as this were related to children so as to cause them to look upon swimming as a necessary accomplishment, and to abolish any tendency to fear the water.
Hine-poupou was abandoned by her husband on the island of Kapiti, and is said to have swum back to her father's home on the southern side of the Straits. She gained endurance by repeating some potent charm, that is, by appealing to the gods, and so was enabled to reach home. The story is a long one in its entirety, containing much detail. Having reached home and told her friends of the base act of her husband, it was resolved to punish him. It was arranged that the husband should perish at sea, and so, when he and his brother were out at sea in a canoe, fishing, a great storm was induced by means of magic arts. The canoe was swept by the storm far across the ocean, and at length was cast ashore in a strange land. Here the brothers encountered a strange people who knew not fire, and so ate their food raw. They found that these folk were being slain in numbers by a dread taniwha, and the harassed people implored the castaways to endeavour to destroy the beast. This they managed to do, after which peace abode in the land. One of the brothers was given a young woman as a wife, and so it came to their knowledge that natural birth was unknown in that land; all children were brought into the world of life by means of the
Several old folk tales mentioned great birds that formerly existed, such as the pouakai, which myths may have originated in a remembrance of the huge moa (Dinornis) that formerly existed in these isles. An old North Island tale is that concerning Te Manu nui a Rua-kapanga (the Great Bird of Ruakapanga). The genuine version of this story is that of the first meeting of the Maori with the moa. This was when one Rua-kapanga, an immigrant from Polynesia, encountered several of the huge birds inland of moa came to be known by the above name, also as kuranui. It was sometimes alluded to as the manu whakatau, which sounds like a descriptive name. Now around this name of the moa as pertaining to old Rua-kapanga have grown up strange conceits and absurd beliefs, such as the story of the great bird of Rua-kapanga, and how it carried one Pou-rangahua hither from far Hawaiki, which is as follows:—
In olden times a man of goodly fame was Pou-rangahua, he who took to wife Kanioro, the guardian of greenstone. He was a person of amazing powers, as the following story shows. In days of old the two hills known as Orakai-whaia and Taunga-a-tara, at Te Papuni, stood some distance apart. The former is of the male sex, and the latter a female. Orakai-whaia felt sorely his lonely condition, and so called across the waste to Taunga-a-tara to come near and be a wife to him. Nothing loth, she agreed, and came to him, so that they stood side by side. This caused a blocking of the valley, so that the river became obstructed, hence a lake was formed. It was Pou-rangahua who, by means of his control of magic, caused those hills to separate again, and so the lake disappeared.
Pou-rangahua dwelt in the land of Turanga, where Waipaoa rolls seaward to Muriwai-o-Whata. At a certain time he
ara moana, the sea roads of kumara, then unknown in the land of Aotea (New Zealand). With a supply of this prized tuber he decided to return home, and cast about for some means of conveyance. Why he did not return hither in his own craft is not explained.
Now in that far land there existed a huge bird named Tawhaitari, and the chief Tane advised Pou to employ this creature in order to convey him across the ocean to Aotea. He did so; he placed his baskets of seed tubers on the bird's great back, and then mounted himself, but so weighty was the burthen that the bird was unable to rise. Tane then advised Pou to procure another great bird, the Great Bird of Rua-kapanga, to bear him home. This was done, and all was well, so powerful a creature was it. Then Tane spake farewell to Pou, and gave him words of counsel: “Be gentle with your ancestor who bears you so bravely. Do not illuse him; do not compel him to alight in your homeland. When, on nearing the land, he shakes himself, do you descend at once from his back and allow him to return hither.” The time had now come for Pou to commence his long flight, and the great bird rose in the air and stretched forth to fly across the great ocean to Turanga at Aotea. Now there was one great danger to be encountered on the way, and that was when passing the mountain called Hikurangi. On that mountain abode a dread tipua, a man-slaying ogre in the form of Tama-i-waho. This Tama was an evil being, an atua possessing great powers of
When Pou, bestriding the great bird of Rua-kapanga, came within sight of Hikurangi, he resolved to wait until the sun had declined so far as to dazzle the eyes of Tama of Hikurangi. When that time came, the great bird flew swiftly past, but even as it did so there came the cry of the ogre of Hikurangi: “Who is this invading the mountain of Tamanui-a-Rangi?” By the time the ogre's sight had returned to him, Pou and the great bird had safely passed.
As they approached the land at Turanga the great bird shook itself as a sign for Pou to dismount, and so allow it to return. But Pou obstinately refused to alight, and forced the bird to convey him to his very home. He also plucked the fine plumes of the bird, and thus he did it two grievous injuries. By detaining the great bird it was delayed in its return to Hawaiki, and so it was caught and destroyed by Tama, the ogre of Hikurangi. In a far land one Tane awaited the return of the great bird, but never more was it to return to him. Then came the knowledge of the tragedy at Hikurangi, and Taukata was sent to capture the ogre. His powers of magic enabled him to cause Tama to fall into a deep sleep, and in that condition he was conveyed to far Hawaiki, where he was killed, even as he had slain and consumed the Great Bird of Rua-kapanga.
As for Pou, he cultivated his treasured tubers at Manawa-ru, in the Turanga district, and that valued food product became the most important of cultivated foods in this land of Aotea. It is interesting to note that the name of Te Manu nui a Rua-kapanga is known to the natives of Rarotonga, in the Cook Group. This looks as if the name has been carried thither from these isles at some time in the past.
Rivers enter into Maori myth principally in connection with their supernormal denizens, such as taniwha and tipua. There are, however, some cases in which they enter directly into folk tales. One such is the tale of how the two rivers, Waikato and Rangi-taiki, raced each other in order to see
In the first place Whangaehu, a river that has its source near that of the Waikato, and flows into Cook Straits, on the western side of the North Island, wished to persuade Waikato to march with it to the western sea. The latter objected to the proposal, and, after much argument, the two parted. So Waikato determined to go to the sea at the Bay of Plenty, whereupon Rangi-taiki challenged him to a race, as he himself was making for those parts. Now the great race to the sea started, Waikato starting from Tongariro, and Rangitaiki from Kai-manawa. The two remained many miles apart as they raced onward, and each kept sending out messengers in order to ascertain the progress of his rival. Thus Waikato sent out Tore-patutahi and two other messengers. These messengers were the present tributary streams of that river. Rangi-taiki sent out the five messengers named Wai-irohia, Nga Tamawahine, Pokai-roa, Pahekeheke, and Wai-kowhewhe. All these are the names of tributaries of Rangi-taiki that flow into that stream on its left bank. When Waikato was approaching Paeroa he heard the roaring sound caused by Rangitaiki flowing into the Bay of plenty, which so disgusted him that he turned aside and made his way to the western sea.
We find among the natives a few stories of persons who possessed the power of flight. In the story of Tamarau we are told that he flew from the hill Arorangi, at Wai-o-hau, to the coast. But here again we are confused by a similar tale collected at Rarotonga by Colonel Gudgeon in which it is shown that Tamarau flew from a place called Arorangi, at the isle of Rarotonga, five hundred leagues distant from New Zealand. Truly has the Maori so traversed and retraversed, settled and resettled the isles of the ocean that we cannot say to what place a story does belong.
In some of the popular tales one notes all kinds of illogical and contradictory statements. In the story of the woman who was taken up to heaven by spiders we are told of a child who grew up to manhood in that region. Also that his father, when he died, entered the spirit world as an old grey-headed man. This is the tale of a woman whose husband
Maori folk lore contains many such simple tales as the above. The name of the old woman, Ruruhi-kerepo, appears in a number of tales, in several variant forms, all of which denote a blind old woman. In some cases she appears as a veritable ogress, as in the following tale:—
Now this is a tale of olden times. Many generations ago it was that five girls went a-roaming in the forest, where they met a strange-looking old woman, whose name was Ruruhikerepo. One of the girls cried: “Oh! Here is an old dame
(ruruhi).” Ruruhi-kerepo said: “You must not call me ruruhi, but kuia (old woman).” Said a girl: “Oh! she is a kuia.” Again the old dame objected: “You must not call me kuia,but matua keke (aunt).” Whereupon a girl called out; “I greet you, aunt.” Then Ruruhi-kerepo made all the girls clamber up among the branches of a tree. When they had done so, she called out: “Oh! My nieces, how nice you look up there; I could eat you all; I could eat each of you at a mounthful.” Then she violently shook the tree, crying out: “Drop off! Drop off!” As each girl fell from the tree, the Ruruhi seized her, bit off her head, and ate her body. Now when the girls were missed, and a party of men went in search of them, the heads alone of those girls were found. The men sought to discover the creature who had slain the hapless girls, and, ere long, they met the ogress. One man strove to kill
koputotara (porcupine fish).
How many times has the writer, over a space of five decades, listened to these puerile folk tales, as told by merry children and grey-haired old bushmen, told in rough huts, in the darkling solitudes of old, old forests, by the rushing waters of many streams. Under the kindly ægis of Tane and of Rehua, in the sympathetic company of Parawhenua, of Hine-pukohu, and the Whanau Marama, slowly the mythopoetic mentality of the Maori was disclosed to the dull eyes and dull mind of modern man. Fancy a dour, tattooed old bush fighter, who fought against my people on every possible occasion, and took part in the massacre of women and children at Turanga and Mohaka, relating the myth of Uenuku the Rainbow God and the Mist Maid, or such puerile folk tales as that of the Woman who ate her Child's Heart. This latter is one of the tales told in order to account for strange sounds heard in the forest. You may hear the puwawau or punawaru, a sound made by running water that sounds like human voices singing, these be the babbling brooks. Or the takiari, a sharp, sudden report; or the parangeki, strange spirit voices, called also irirangi and irewaru. But when you hear a sound as of a questing call, you know that the phantom woman seeks her child.
It came about in this wise. A certain woman of olden days was very fond of the heart of the bush pigeon as a food. As the heart of that bird is but small, it followed that her husband had to spend much of his time in the forest snaring pigeons. In course of time those birds became quite scarce, and one day he returned without a single pigeon. His wife railed at him bitterly, and accused him of laziness. On the next day he again set off for the forest, taking with him their only child, a small boy. He took the child far into the forest and there killed him. He took out the child's heart and carried it home to his wife, but, as he passed through the forest, he invoked the powers of the gods to endow the trees
The light class of folk tales and fables all come under the heading of korero tara, or pakiwaitara, and such stories were remarkably popular among the Maori folk. The following story was related to the writer by Upon a certain day Namu the Sandfly and Naeroa the Mosquito foregathered, whereupon the former said—“Friend! Let us go forth and assail Man, and consume his blood.” But Naeroa said: “Let us await the shades of night lest Man should see and slay us.” Quoth Namu—“Let us attack him in numbers, so that, when he turns to smite us, he will perish before our myriads.” Said Naeroa—“Not so. Night is the favourable time, for then we will be unseen, and, as we approach Man, we will all raise our voices so that he will believe that we have settled on him, so will he strive to slay us, but merely smite himself.” But Namu heeded not the advice of Naeroa, and said—“Since you fear to go, then will I go alone.”
Now all the Sandfly Folk set off to attack Man, assailing him in great numbers, and biting deeply. But Man was alert, he smote Namu and his hordes; behold, in one slap of his hand
Then sorely wept Namu, the Sandfly, lamenting his stricken kinsmen:—
Thus we see that the Sandfly Folk reck not of death so long as they draw blood from Man.
When Whiro the Dark One drew the cloak of night across the white world, the Mosquito Folk set forth in countless array to attack Man, and so avenge the defeat of the Sandfly clan. As Naeroa approched, Man heard his droning voice, and, thinking he had settled, sought to smite him, but lo! he merely struck his own ear. Then Naeroa assailed him from the other side, and Man again sought to slay him—only to strike his other ear. Then did the Mosquito horde assail Man, and Man waxed desperate, striking many blows, only to buffet himself until his ears tingled again. When the Dawn Maid banished dark Whiro from the fair expanse of the Earth Mother—Behold! the face of Man was a dread sight, so swollen was it under the ceaseless attacks of the Mosquito Folk. Even so was the stricken field of Namu avenged, and ever do Namu and Naeroa assail Man, the one in the light of day, the other when darkness comes.
Another old-time fable is that of Kahu and Hokioi. The former is the New Zealand hawk or harrier, and the latter,
hakuwai, is the name of a large mythical bird, said to abide in the heavens. It is never seen by man, and approaches the earth only at night, when the sound of its flight is sometimes heard. In days gone by the Hawk and the Hokioi had a dispute as to which could ascend the highest in flight. Quoth the Hawk to Hokioi: “You can fly no higher than does the fern bird.” So angered was Hokioi that he challenged Kahu the Hawk to a trial in flight, to see which could fly the highest. Then both left the earth and flew upwards. The Hawk, as he flew, kept continually watching the earth, as is the habit of Hawk Folk. Pretty soon he saw a fern plain on fire, and at once swooped down to prey on the creatures fleeing from the fire. Then Hokioi cried out to Kahu the Hawk: “He pakiwaha koe” (“You are a boaster”). Then Hokioi continued his flight; he went so high that he lost sight of the earth. Never again was he seen by man, yet sometimes, in the dead of night, he is heard calling out his own name in derision of Kahu the Hawk:
The last word represents the rushing sound of his flight, as heard by the Maori folk of this world.
When a person has a tiresome habit of boasting of his own abilities, one will remark. “Hokioi is the person who is always calling out his own name.”
The fable of the Parrot and Parroquet is as follows:—When you walk abroad about the edge of a forest you will encounter Kakariki, the parroquet, who loves to flit about in such places. Moreover, you will hear this child of Punaweko singing this song:—
Now the parroquet had obtained its handsome plumage at Motu-tapu, the Sacred Isle of Tinirau, son of the great Tangaroa. When Kaka the Parrot saw that the Parroquet's brilliant feathers called forth great admiration, he sought to cajole him into an exchange. So he began to jeer at the Parroquet and ridicule his appearance, so that he came to be quite confused, and began to doubt his own fine appearance. Then Kaka
In the fable of Popokorua, the Ant, and Kikihi, the Cicada, we note the advantages won by forethought, industry and diligence. When the eighth month (of the Maori year) comes, it is then that Kikihi, the Cicada, appears and clings to his ancestor Tane (trees). In numbers countless they come, and are seen basking in the sun, while the clamour of their song is like unto the crackling of a reed fire. The song of the Cicada is as follows:—“What truly is my delight? It is idling and basking in the sun on a tree branch, and just clapping my wings.”
This song of the Kikihi Folk is a strident one, and heard afar off, but somewhere down at tree base there is a very quiet, soft song being sung by Popokorua, the Ant. He is very busy, is Popokorua, and cannot sing loudly; many, many folk never hear his song at all. That song runs: “Hasten, O Friend! Do not delay. The labours of the Ant have commenced, urged on to form holes to serve as shelter from the rains of heaven, from cold that pierces nightly. To gather seeds as sustenance for the inner man, even that life may be retained.”
Now, in the beginning, the Ant had spoken to the Cicada in this wise: “O Friend! Let us be diligent and collect much food during the warm season, even that we may retain life when the cold of Takurua comes.” But Kikihi, the Cicada, replied: “Nay, let us rather bask on the sun-warmed bark of trees, and sing a merry lilt.” So it came about that the Ant toiled at gathering food throughout the kindly summer season, collecting and storing supplies in snug hidden places. Meanwhile the Cicada said: “What a fine thing is a life of basking in the warm sun. How pleasant is life, and how foolish is the Ant, who ever toils.” When, in after days, the warmth went out of the sun, when Hine-takurua, the Winter Maid, abode
We will discourse a while on the subject of fairies, forest elves, the fair folk termed turehu, patupaiarehe, korakorako, heketoro, tahurangi, and pakehakeha. The Maori firmly believed in the existence of these creatures, and often speaks of them as though they were human beings, for we have tales describing them as capturing and carrying off native women. The most interesting particular concerning these forest folk is that they are described as being a fair-skinned people having light or reddish coloured hair. If this was a belief of pre-European times, then it may have been a dim memory of a light-skinned people encountered by the ancestors of the race in far lands. This is a somewhat bold theory, for it must have been many centuries since the Maori folk were located in any region where they might have met such a people. It is probably a matter of comparison, as it was with the Spanish voyagers who termed the Polynesians caras blancas.
The collector of data concerning the myths of barbaric man has, of a verity, much to endure, and is often puzzled by the contradictory nature of such data. He listens to most realistic tales of the Turehu abducting native women, and dwelling in communities on forest-clad ranges. Others, however, inform him that these forest folk are nought but wairua tangata (human spirits, or souls). Some assert that they are spirits of the dead; others that they are the spirits (souls) of living persons, and so statements differ. Evidently all believed in the existence of these forest dwellers, but people had vague ideas as to their nature, which, after all, is no doubt quite natural.
A peculiar feature of all accounts of the Turehu folk is that they were often heard talking, singing and playing flutes up on the wooded hills and ranges, and especially so on dull, misty days. They are said to have been a very tapu folk, and if one of their hamlets was visited by man, they would surely desert it and settle elsewhere. One tale tells how the Maori acquired the knowledge of the art of making fishing nets from the Turehu. A party of Turehu was hauling a net
kaui or cord to the first fish strung, hence the fish slipped off the cord as fast as he strung them. By this means Kahukura delayed the departure of the fisher folk until dawn appeared, and the appearance of day so startled them that they fled homewards, abandoning their net on the beach. Another version has it that the Turehu folk discovered that a man was among them, and so fled in dismay. This is how the Maori acquired the art of netting, and when one of to-day sees slipshod, careless work, he remarks: “Ko te tui whakapahuhu a Kahukura,” in memory of the trickery of Kahukura.
Natives sometimes state that the Turehu folk were the first occupants of these isles. This remark, together with that anent their fair skin and hair, has served some writers as a basis for a theory, or belief, that New Zealand was once inhabited by a fair race. Such a claim is quite hopeless; no such a people ever dwelt here. The light-haired, light-skinned individuals occasionally seen among the Maori, and by them termed urukehu, represent an old strain of unknown origin. It was brought hither by the Maori from Polynesia, but no man may say whence it was derived. On account of the idea that the Turehu were the original inhabitants of Aotea, the natives sometimes say that the land and its products really belong to them. We are told that, in olden days, when persons were engaged in digging fern root (the edible rhizome of the bracken), they sometimes heard a voice say: “E koa koe aianei, a maku hoki te ra apopo” (“You rejoice to-day, but my turn will come to-morrow”). Then the root diggers would know that the original owners of the land, the Turehu folk, were speaking, and so each man would hasten to put aside the first three roots he dug up as a placatory offering to the Turehu.
The late
One Ruarangi was the eponymic ancestor of the Ngati-Ruarangi clan of the Haua tribe, of Waikato; his wife was Tawhaitu. In those days the denizens of the forests were a numerous people called Tahurangi. They lived on the bushclad hills and forest ranges of Pirongia, Taupiri, and elsewhere. In those old times, long before the white-skinned tipua (Europeans) broke through the hanging sky and landed on the shores of Aotearoa, Ruarangi and his wife dwelt in those parts. Now it came about that, during the absence of the husband on a certain day, when his wife was alone, one of the Tahurangi Folk, by name Te Rangipouri, came to the hamlet and carried her off to his abode on wooded Pirongia. Here they lived together for some time, sometimes going to other such bush hills, where they would sojourn a space, and then return to Pirongia.
When Ruarangi found that his wife had disappeared, he sought her far and near, but all in vain, no trace he found. One day, however, he was ranging the forest at the base of the hill abode of the weird Tahurangi, and saw his lost wife with her Tahurangi husband. He called to her but she fled from him. For the strange influence of those forest folk had caused her to forget her old life, and home, and friends, so she knew not her true husband, and fled from him in great fear. Ruarangi then bethought him that she was under the potent tapu of the forest folk, hence if he could but break the power of that tapu, his estranged wife would recognise him and return to him. Fortunately he chanced at the time to be carrying a small portion of cooked food, the very best of agents whereby to pollute or destroy tapu. He now pursued the pair until he got near enough to them to throw the food so as to strike his wife in the back. This contact at once broke the power of the tapu, and his wife recognised him, and joyfully came to him. It was, however, some time ere she quite recovered her former condition. She then told her husband that the Tahurangi would certainly make an attempt to carry her off again and that they must be very cautious in all their goings and comings.
One fair day the Tahurangi suddenly appeared, and strove to re-capture the woman. She and her husband at once ran to their house, and entered it, but the Tahurangi followed them in. Then the woman bethought her of a very strong prejudice of the forest folk, their terror of kokowai (red ochre). She told her husband to mark her with ochre, and, as soon as he did so, the Tahurangi recoiled from her; he had no longer the power to touch her. Ruarangi then marked himself with the ochre, which rendered him safe from any attack; he marked the doorway, whereupon the Tahurangi escaped through the window, which was then also marked. He approached the Tahurangi and marked the spot of earth he was standing on; the forest man fled, but Ruarangi followed him, and kept marking each place that he rested on. Pretty soon most of the plaza was so marked, and the Tahurangi was compelled to jump from one ochre free spot to another. Ere long these free spots became widely separated, and the Tahurangi became aweary with his ceaseless jumping. At last that nanakia, that troublesome being, had no place left whereon he might set his foot. He then leaped to the roof of the house. He stood on the apex thereof and sang a song of farewell to his lost human wife. Then the unhappy forest man fled back to the bush-clad hills and his home among the Tahurangi folk.
The farewell song sung by the Tahurangi has been preserved by the natives of Waikato, who will tell you of Ruarangi and his strange adventure, and of how, if you mark your door with red ocre, no troublesome forest folk will enter it.
Tutaka-ngahau, the old Tuhoe chief, told me in 1895 that the Heketoro are, or were, a fair-skinned, light-haired folk who dwelt on the high, forest-clad ranges, as at Turi-o-Haua, Mapouriki, and Putaihinu. One hears the same description of these forest folk, under different names, in all districts. It is strange that the Maori should describe them as being so unlike themselves in appearance. The Rev.
One persistent statement made by natives is easily explained. It is to the effect that the Patupaiarehe folk used to enter native huts at night occasionally and grievously afflict the sleepers, smiting them down with deadly sickness. This affliction was undoubtedly the effect of the charcoal fires kindled by the natives in their unventilated huts on winter nights.
A Whanganui native, Heremia of Koriniti, related the following tale to me in 1921:—Once upon a time a number of women set forth to the forest in order to collect berries of the hinau (Elœocarpus, from which a dark-coloured, heavy, coarse meal bread was made). On entering the forest the women separated in pairs and set about their task, each couple taking a different direction. As time passed, one woman became separated from her companion, and so called to her. She heard a reply from afar off and proceeded in the direction of the voice, calling out ever and anon, and still hearing answering calls. She believed that her companion was answering her, but not so; it was a Parehe, a strange denizen of the forest, who was calling to her.
Ere long the woman was caught and carried off by the Parehe far into the depths of the forest. When the women returned home it was found that one was missing, and a search for the absent one was instituted. After a long search the seekers came across the woman and the Parehe, not walking on earth as we do, but moving about among the tree tops, walking on the branches. The searchers suceeded in catching the woman, but found her strangely altered. One half of her body still retained its human aspect and condition, but the other half seemed to have turned into wood. Her friends were much puzzled as to how to restore her to her former state, she had altered so much; she seemed to have become half Parehe. At last they formed and heated a large steam oven and placed her in it. This steaming process had the desired effect, the woman was restored to her former human condition, and regained her normal faculties.
After the woman had been returned to her home, and had recovered from her experiences of Parehe life, she would,
The weird beings known as Porotai are described as having bodies one-half of which is composed of stone, and the other half is human. This double aspect extends to their faces. They are said to be accomplished singers, but they may possibly have ceased to exist, for none have been seen for many years.
In former times, say the Awa folk of the Bay of Plenty, companies of spirits, termed tira maka, which are human spirits, were seen moving about in space, but only gifted seers could descry them. Such a vision was held to be unlucky, and so, when such a company was observed, a ceremony would be performed in order to avert any threatened misfortune.
The Tutumaiao are weird, indistinct creatures seen on long, sandy ocean beaches by travellers, but as one approaches them they disappear.
Te Tini o te Hakuturi (the Multitude of the Hakuturi) is a name applied to bands of forest elves inhabiting other lands, the former home of the Maori folk. They acted as guardians of the forest, and theirs was the task of avenging any desecration of the tapu of the forest. These were the fairy folk who caused the fronds of our tree ferns to assume a drooping aspect. Originally they were quite rigid.
Giants do not frequently appear in Maori myth. We have brief references to the existence of such folk in the South Island, and also on the island of Rangitoto in the
In both islands we find stories about the Maero, or Maeroero, wild men believed to dwell in the great forests that formerly covered the land. Quite possibly this belief rests on a basis of fact, and that decimated clans of other days sought refuge in forest wilds when unable to hold their own in more favoured regions. We know that such a procedure was followed in former times.
Inasmuch as myth enters largely into the superstitious beliefs and omens of the Maori folk, it may be as well to include here some of their innumerable puerile beliefs of former days. Absurd as many of these are in our eyes, it is ever well to remember that those of our own ancestors were equally so, and, moreover, we have by no means shaken off superstition ourselves.
The omens (aitua), signs (tohu) and superstitious fancies of the Maori are a legion; numerous are they as leaves in the vale of Vallombrosa, or, as the Maori puts it, they are as uncountable as a company of the Sand Maid. Another fact upon which special stress must be laid is that such signs, omens, etc., had a very marked effect on Maori life. All activities, all pursuits, were much affected by them. This was a natural sequence, the faith of the natives in such fancies being so strong.
The pseudo-science of oneiromancy was keenly followed by the Maori, who placed great faith in dreams, which were allowed to influence the most important undertakings. When a party of fugitive folk under Kahu was seeking a new home, the leader proposed to settle in an unoccupied district inland of Rangitikei. These migrants set to work and prepared the timbers necessary for the building of a village. When the task of erection was about to be commmenced, the son of the chief chanced to dream that he saw the prepared timbers drift out to sea, where they were cast up on an island on which he beheld all his friends. This was enough for the Maori, and the proposed settlement was abandoned, the party marched to the coast, constructed a vessel at the mouth of the Rangitikei river and put to sea. They left Cook Straits and put to sea to seek the land discovered by Toi when he missed New Zealand by keeping too far to the eastward. They reached, and settled at, the Chatham Islands. Now here we have a case of a serious deep sea expedition being undertaken on account of a chance dream.
It is shown elsewhere in this chronicle that the Maori is extremely superstitious in regard to the lizard, he connects it with death; it is extremely unlucky to even see a lizard. Fenton sees, in this fear of a harmless little creature, a survival of the terror in which the crocodile has been held by the
taniwha of Maori myth to that source. Superstitions cluster round the lizard in many lands the world over. In King's work on the Gnostics we are told that “the lizard, which was believed to conceive through the ear, and to bring forth through the mouth, is the type of the generation of the Word, that is the Logos or Divine Wisdom.” This belief seems to explain the appearance of a lizard upon the breast of certain figures of Minerva.
The belief that the lizard brings death is by no means confined to the Maori; it is also an Asiatic and African belief. About the middle of last century the natives of the Whanganui district were led to believe that lizards were working them grievous harm and must be destroyed. One of their first acts was to destroy the fine groves of karaka trees that adorned the banks of the rivers, because those trees were said to afford shelter to lizards.
Should you unfortunately encounter a lizard in your path, it is best to kill it, and then get a woman to step over it, so that the evil omen may be nullified, or averted. Such an act is termed a ripa. The lizard was sometimes selected as an aria, or medium of an atua, its form of incarnation, in fact.
The ignorance and superstition of the Maori effectually kept him at the very bottom of the ladder in regard to knowledge of disease, and medical research. His fear of darkness was very real, and, from our point of view, childish, but his firm faith in the existence and ceaseless presence and activity of evil spirits, was assuredly a sufficient cause for his fears.
The curious old-world belief in the curative powers of human saliva was also held by the Maori. The connection between sneezing and life and welfare seems to hinge upon the fact that the first sign of life manifested by Hine-ahu-one, the first woman, created by Tane, was a sneeze.
The Maori belief in the unlucky and lucky, the tapu and common, the effective and non-effective, sides of man, etc., are also, apparently, world wide. Far spread also was his reluctance to mention the name of an animal he wished to trap or snare, a plant he wished to find, lest they should learn his intention, and elude him. Thus, if going forth in search of
perei, an orchid of which the roots were eaten, he would allude to it as maikaika, lest he should fail to find it. The life of the Maori was riddled with lucky and unlucky acts and omens, though unlucky signs seem to have been far more numerous than lucky ones. All unlucky acts, etc., in connection with trapping, snaring and fishing are called puhore. There are many omens derived from involuntary movements of the body and limbs, each having its distinctive name; such as io, hui, maka, kauwhera, tamaki, etc. The generic term for such manifestations is takiri.
Omens were drawn from the appearance and position of the rainbow. No fighting force would advance if a rainbow were seen bestriding its line of advance. A puzzling thing in connection with native omens is that luck seems to change sides; in some cases the right side is the lucky side, and in other cases it changes to the left side. Thus to hear the cry of a robin to your right is a lucky sign; if it is to your left it is unlucky. But if your right nostril tingles or twitches, it is a token of bad luck, while the same affection of the left nostril is a token of good luck.
My very worthy old friend,
It was deemed unlucky to see certain rare kinds of stone, such as the tahakura, hine-a-tauira, and pungapunga, the latter being a light-coloured kind of greenstone.
A long list of unlucky signs, good omens (waimarie), and other superstitious beliefs would scarcely be entertaining to readers, hence but few will here be given; these will serve as illustrations.
If, during sleep, your hand closes in a convulsive manner, it is a sign that ere long you will receive a present; indeed, it is already on its way to you.
It is unlucky to dream that you are having your hair cut, and unlucky to kindle a fire on the path, when travelling. If, when sleeping beside another person, that person chances to nudge you, that act is a bad omen for you, but still you can avert the trouble by pinching the nudger, which seems comforting.
When a native dreams of going anywhere, or of doing anything, he believes that his wairua (soul, or astral body) actually goes forth from his body and so sees and acts. Any warning sign he dreams of is seriously viewed, hence he believes that an important office of the wairua is the protection of its physical basis, the human body. Again, the belief that the soul leaves the body during sleep renders the Maori extremely cautious about waking a sleeping body. No native would waken a sleeper by shaking him, or calling loudly to him, because his wairua may be absent, and he must give it time to return to its basis.
Long years ago an old woman at the village of Uruhau, near Wellington, dreamed that she saw a fire on the ridge known as Te Wharau. This dream was gravely discussed, and was held to be a warning of some danger threatening the hamlet. Two men were despatched to Te Wharau to endeavour to obtain an explanation of the warning, and they encountered on that ridge a party of raiders advancing to attack Uruhau. Such chance occurrences as this caused the Maori to place great faith in dreams. The old woman's wairua had, during a jaunt abroad, seen this danger threatening its basis, and had returned to warn that basis. Such is the reasoning of the Maori.
When travelling at night, which the Maori ever disliked, natives often make a considerable noise by singing. This is to scare away any spirits, as wairua of the dead, that may be prowling about. Otherwise singing out of doors at night
kehua (ghosts, spirits of dead).
The cry of the owl at night has often caused a village to be deserted, the whole of the people betaking themselves to the forest to escape an expected attack from enemies.
Odd numbers are unlucky in a number of connections. It is unlucky to decline an invitation to partake of food, though it is sufficient if you eat but a fragment thereof. If a woman steps over the body of a male child its growth will be injuriously affected. For her to step over the body of a man would be simply an act of impertinence.
A landslip is viewed as ominous of the death of some member of the local clan. Omens were derived from clouds, wind, thunder, lightning, rainbow, stars, the moon, and other things too numerous to mention.
The older generation of natives believes that the decrease in their numbers, and their impoverished constitution, have been brought about by the forsaking of their old religion and the institution of tapu. By abandoning these, and adopting unsuitable European customs, habits, practices and beliefs, their vitality and general welfare have become seriously impaired. The mauri ora, the sacred life principle of man, has become polluted, and hence the Maori cannot flourish. The gods have abandoned him because he is no longer tapu, and how can man survive and flourish when the gods hold aloof?
The late Mr. atua, a sentient and supernormal being. This watch someone happened to drop overboard, and, later, after the departure of the vessel, a serious epidemic broke out among the natives, many of whom perished. This affliction was connected with the demon watch, and the natives vowed vengeance against the white-skinned sea rovers. In such cases it is the next visitor who suffers.
Whenever the Maori suffers from such visitations as an epidemic, or a failure of crops, he looks to himself for the cause thereof. He must have committed the offence for which he is being punished. It is impossible to shake their faith in this view, and indeed we ourselves have retained similar beliefs; our Church teachings for centuries have been deeply affected by such superstitions. I well remember hearing a priest preaching to his native followers at Whakatane. Like most of such gentry, he was bitterly anti-British, but not above appreciating the benefits of living in a British country; a curiously contradictory quality met with in many Milesians and Dutchmen. Said this worthy priest: “My friends, you have perhaps heard of the fate of the great Napoleon. Now it was not the bravery of the English that caused his downfall. No, he fell because he had sinned.” Here, now, we have a thoroughly Maori superstition, typically Maori, but then it is also Pakeha (European), and so we leave it.
In a very remarkable cosmogonic myth collected by the late Colonel Gudgeon we note that misfortune generally is personified in one Aitua, who was one of the offspring of the primal parents.
A great deal might be written concerning Maori superstitions, signs, and omens, but as many examples of such appear in other chapters, we may well draw this one to a close.
No organised system of worship generally practised—Interesting features of Maori religious beliefs—Classification of Maori gods—Definition of the term atua—Io, the Supreme Being—The Cult of Io a restricted one—Rongo and Tane—Tu, the War God—Tutelary beings—The rainbow deity—Tribal gods—The matakite or seer—Te Awanui, the cacodœmon—Maraea, the female medium—Herbal concoction as a wound preventer—Te Rehu-o-Tainui—The life story of a war god—Maori priests classified—Tohunga—The Ngau taringa and Whakaha rites—Priests paid for services—Hypnotic powers of priests—The bishop and the tohunga—The kura hau awatea—Neolithic wireless—Priests faced the sun when performing rites—Abolition of tapu and its farreaching effects—Missionaries versus tohunga Maori study of stars—Preservation of racial lore—Priesthood often hereditary—Communications of gods—Divine possession—The “mango trick” practised in Polynesia—Multifarious duties of priests—The institution of tapu Its vivifying force emanates from gods—Tapu is prohibition—Offences against gods punished in this world—Offences against tapu—Tapu of death—tapu place, and so perished—Tapu objects painted red—Tapu of forests—Tapu words—Tapu articles destroyed—Pollution of tapu—Tapu of houses; of nets; of paths; of betrothed girl—The Whakanoa rite—Cooked food pollutes tapu—Women employed in tapu removing rites—Purificatory ceremonial—Ritual performances—Karakia, or ritual formulæ—True invocation rare—Incantations—Vivifying power behind rites and charms, etc.—Fasting—Ceremonial purification in rites—Rites performed in water—Sacred fires The Tuapa wairua rite—Fire walking—Ceremonial umu or steam ovens—Human hair used in rites—Tapu of hair-cutting—Hair cutting as a ceremonial performance—Human saliva used in rites—Its inherent powers—Sun worship—Sun cult connected with its personified form—Nelson's sun festival notes—Moon worship—Star worship—Offerings to gods—Bird released in rites—Symbolism—Images of atua—Genealogical table included in ritual—Ceremonial dancing—Initiatory rite over a seer—Moral impurity a bar to ritual privileges—Tuahu—Takuahi—Marae of Polynesia—Ahurewa—Phallic symbolism
tiki pendant—Protective and destructive powers of certain organs—Ngau paepae—Phallic trees and stones—Phallic flutes—Spiritual concepts—The wairua, or ata—Ghosts—The mauri or life principle—Protective principle and material talisman—The hau—The breath of life—Ahua and aria Mental concepts—The ngakau, puku and hinengaro—Two distinct spirit worlds—The Reinga—How the soul attains the underworld—Myths of the setting sun—The Ara whanui or Golden Path—The Hono-i-wairua—Hawaiki-nui—The Four-way Path—The celestial spirit world—Miru—Hine-nui-te-Po—Ameto—The practice of magic—Belief in magic has fatal effect—Is both advantageous and pernicious—Magic and religion inter-mixed—Use of mediums in black and white magic—How wizards were identified—Origin of black magic—Reputed powers of wizards—How the shafts of magic were averted—The Ngau paepae rite—Magic spells—The Rua iti—Destructive powers of material medium—Thieves punished by magic arts.
In describing the religious concepts of the natives of these isles it is well to bear in mind that they had not evolved any such a well-defined theological system as we are accustomed to. It may then be said that the heading of this chapter is an appropriate one, and that it is more correct to speak of Maori religious beliefs and practices than to dignify such by the name of religion. Had the cult of Io been known to, and practised by, the whole of the people, then assuredly the term religion might have been employed. But it was not so known, it was confined to the few, and the bulk of the people knew of no cultus superior to that of the departmental deities. This secondary phase was in the hands of the priesthood, whose duty it was to placate such beings and to perform the rites pertaining to the cultus. The ordinary man had direct interest only with inferior beings of the third and fourth classes. Thus the religious practices of the average person of a community were but little removed from shamanism.
The leading features of Maori religion, those of the greatest interest to the ethnographer, are the concept of the Supreme Being, that of the spirit world, with those of the spiritual potentiæ of man, and the institution of tapu. The first three present some novel and little-known phases and peculiarities; it is doubtful if we have acquired such a close insight into those of any other barbaric folk. These details are of much interest to students of comparative religion, and
In order to give the reader an insight into the Maori pantheon and Maori theogony, it will be well to review his numerous gods, and to make an attempt to classify them. Unless this be done, any attempt to explain their attributes and manifestations may well confuse the reader. I would divide our atua maori, or native gods, into four classes, as follows:—
One may well take exception to the term god as applied to some atua, but it is not easy in many cases to find a suitable substitute. The term atua is employed to denote, not only such beings as we term gods, but also anything believed to possess supernormal power. It is often applied to anything mysterious, or that is believed to exercise a malign influence. Thus a serious epidemic may be termed an atua. It has been applied to living persons; in many cases it may be rendered as “demon.” Inasmuch as it was, and is, applied to any malignant being, it does not seem to have been a happy choice to employ it to designate a benignant deity. Like the word tohunga, supposed by most of us to denote a priest, the word atua is used in a very loose manner.
With regard to the first class division of our gods, there is but one being to mention, for here Io stands alone, as a Supreme Being necessarily must. Some account of this deity has already been given in a former chapter, to which description, however, a few notes may be here added.
We have been told by divers writers that the Maori had formed no conception of a Supreme Being, and that all his gods were of a malignant nature. Both of these statements are erroneous. The Maori conception of the Supreme Deity is a very remarkable achievement for a neolithic and barbaric people. It occupies and illustrates a high plane of thought, and, moreover, it was never permitted to detericrate, but was
Ritual performances connected with the Supreme Being were not performed in public. If any excessively tapu ritual formula was repeated at any place where ordinary people might hear it, then certain parts were omitted, more especially any lines containing the name of Io. As a rule such ceremonies were performed out of doors, but some were held at the ahurewa, a particularly tapu place in the sacred lore house of a village community, if such a house existed, for they were few and far between. Io was invoked only in connection with matters of importance, in no case was he appealed to in connection with minor affairs, or black magic.
Here then, among a barbaric and cannibal folk living at the ends of the earth, we encounter a remarkable concept of the Supreme Being. He is called Io the Parentless because he was never born of parents. He was Io the Parent because all things originated from him, or through his agency, albeit he begat no being. He was known as Io the Permanent because he is eternal and unchangeable, and as Io-te-waiora because he is the welfare of all beings and all things in all realms.
We have been told by one of our leading anthropologists that, when a people possess a number of departmental deities, then, sooner or later, the institution leads to the conception of a Supreme Being to stand above them. Presumably
The departmental gods were provided by the primal parents, they are members of the offspring of Rangi and Papa. Thus we see that Rongo presided over the art of agriculture and all peaceful arts and institutions, including the making of peace in time of war. In vernacular speech the word rongo denotes peace. This deity is known far and wide throughout the island system, being one of the great Polynesian trinity of Tane, Tu and Rongo. We have seen that the name of Rongo was coupled with that of Tane in a peculiar manner, as Rongo-ma-Tane (Rongo and Tane). This title was used as though pertaining to a single deity. Certainly this double-barreled deity should have been useful to an agricultural people such as the Maori, for it meant a combination of the two beings representing fertility and reproduction.
Tane has been shown to represent the sun, light and the male fructifying power; he is essentially Tane the Parent and Tane the Fertiliser. It was he who begat trees and plants, who fertilised the Earth Mother and caused her to produce the first woman, he who placed the Children of Light on high and so brought Light into the murky world. Tane is the tutelary being of forests and birds, hence he was placated by fowlers, and by craftsmen who sought material for canoe making, house building, etc. Thus many offerings were made to Tane in connection with divers activities.
In Tu we have the tutelary deity of the war department of Maoriland. Tu represents war, bloodshed, and the present writer is inclined to hold the view that Tu personifies the setting sun, which is ever associated with death. If Fenton's statement that one Tu held the same position in Babylonia be correct, then it is a very remarkable coincidence, especially when viewed in conjunction with the parallels pertaining to Ra and Sin. Inasmuch as Tu was the chief war god of the Maori, it was his tapu that lay heavy on fighting men when on active service. His mana was over the warrior, and any who infringed the many restrictions imposed by his tapu were indeed in parlous plight. Offerings of the hearts of slain
mana, and guidance of one at least of the many beings who may be termed tribal war gods. These latter belonged to the third and fourth classes of atua maori, or native gods.
In Tangaroa we have the patron of fishermen, for he represents all fish; thus we meet with his name in the charms recited by fishermen. In some of the isles of Polynesia Tangaroa (as Ta'aroa, Tanaoa, Kanaloa, etc.) occupied a much more important position than he did in New Zealand.
Tawhirimatea, as the principal personification of wind, was placated by voyagers and fishermen, whose offerings and charms were made and recited with a view to the enjoyment of placid seas.
In some accounts we find one Haumia, the personified form of the edible rhizome of the common bracken, included as one of the primal offspring.
Kiwa appears as a being invoked by sea-farers, inasmuch as he is the guardian of the ocean. Kiwa and Tawhirimatea were presumably very important beings in Maori eyes in the old sea-faring days when they ranged far and wide athwart the realm of Hine-moana.
Whiro was viewed as one of the most active, and certainly as the most pernicious, of these departmental beings. Representing, as he does, both evil and death, his activities are ceaseless, and so many offerings were made to him. Presumably the Maori considered it highly advisable to placate him, whereas in the case of Io no offerings were made. Either the latter was considered too august a being to be placated, or it was not considered worth while to placate a benignant being from whom no hurtful action proceeded.
Ruaumoko occupies a subordinate position as a departmental genius. His realm is a subterranean one, and his noxious manifestations are rare, hence we do not hear much of him and his activities, save in connection with the change of seasons, and when an earthquake occurs.
In one version Uenuku-rangi, personified form of the rainbow, is included as a member of the primal offspring, and, if this be correct, he should find a place in the class being
atua. His fame as a war god certainly extended far in these isles, and he was much in request as a controller and presiding genius in time of war. Many omens were derived from the appearance of rainbows.
We have now scanned the more important members of the second-class Maori deities, and will now pass on to the third-grade beings. Here there is just one explanation to make, however, regarding our departmental gods. They were viewed as supernatural beings, and so may be termed atua, but the Maori seems to view them more as originating beings, or parents, than as ordinary gods such as those of the third class.
The members of the third class of our Maori gods may be looked upon as being tribal gods, though in a number of cases such beings were known to many tribes, even throughout both islands. In a few cases they are known in Polynesia. Others, again, were known over a restricted area only. Among those most widely known were Aitupawa, Maru, Kahukura, Haere, Ruamano, etc. These beings are in many cases personifications of natural phenomena. Thus Aitupawa is said to represent thunder; Maru personifies some celestial phenomenon, a glow seen in the heavens, possibly the zodiacal light; Kahu-kura and Haere are personifications of the rainbow, while Ruamano is a denizen of the ocean, though in what form we know not. Another such atua, known as Tunui-a-te-ika, personifies comets, Tamarau represents meteors, Hine-korako the lunar halo or bow, Rakaiora the lizard, Rongomai apparently represents meteors, and so on. A long list would be tedious.
The atua of the third and fourth classes were the ones most frequently appealed to; they were “for every day use” in connection with the ordinary affairs of life. Many of the third-class beings were utilised, if one may use the expression, as war gods (atua mo te riri), as directing experts, whose instructions, interpreted by their human mediums, were faithfully obeyed. They were also the power behind the arts of black magic that rendered such arts effective. The power that rendered the institutions of tapu and ritual formulæ effective emanated from the gods of all classes.
The fourth class of atua maori I would feel disposed to designate as “familiars,” for “god”. seems to be too dignified
whangaia (had offerings made to them) in order to influence them to befriend, warn, and succour their descendants. Thus a man might become the medium of the spirit of a defunct parent, or grandparent, and so utilise the services of such a spirit for the common weal. The most marked advantage gained by such a medium was the power of second sight, termed matakite and matatuhi. The ancestral spirit's interest in his, or its, descendant, was shown principally in the way of warning him of any danger threatening him. Such warnings were often sent in the form of signs, and such signs were innumerable. We have noted many in the list of omens given in another chapter. In many cases these warnings came to the medium in dreams. In such cases the medium would believe that his wairua (soul) had quitted its physical basis during sleep and wandered abroad, and, on its observing the threatening sign, had hurried back to warn him of danger. This action of the wairua had been brought about through the influence of the ancestral spirit. Such a medium, however, had to be careful not to offend the guardian spirit in any way, for, if offence was given, its protection was at once withdrawn. The medium had to be scrupulously careful not to pollute his own condition of tapu, which emanated from the spirit god. Should he do so he would be left defenceless, his life principle would be exposed to the shafts of magic, and all other evil influences. Above all he would be rendered kahupo, or spiritually blind; that is, he would be deprived of the powers of the seer.
The beings of this fourth class were appealed to for much the same purposes as were those of the third class, that is in connection with war, magic, and the ordinary activities of every-day life. Inasmuch as the priests or mediums of the different classes of atua differed in what may be termed sacerdotal standing, then it follows that the mediums of the fourth class atua were more shamanistic in their dealings with such beings than were the mediums of higher standing.
It would be of no interest or service to give a list of names of these ancestral spirits, but a few cases known to myself may be mentioned as illustrations. When, in the “sixties” of last century, the Tuhoe tribe was in a disturbed state owing
poropiti. This is the Maori form of our word prophet, a tohunga matakite (second sight expert) in Maori. Our prophetess now cast about for an atua whose medium she might become, one that would endow her with the necessary powers enabling her to foretell events, and lead her people to victory. Being possibly desirous of making it a family affair, she did not placate any of the known supernormal beings, but decided to evolve a new atua for her own use. Happening to be delivered of a stillborn child, she resolved to utilise the spirit of that child as a war god, or, as anthropologists would say, as a “familiar.” Now in Maori belief the spirits of stillborn children, termed atua kahu, are exceedingly malignant beings who ever delight in afflicting the living. Thus it will be seen that they are useful creatures to employ for the purpose of harassing and destroying one's enemies. Even so Maraea set about conciliating the spirit of her own child by means of offerings and appropriate ceremonial, in which task she would probably be assisted by a priestly expert. She now became the waka or kaupapa (medium) of this spirit god, which received the name of Te Awanui.
The life story of Te Awanui is not famous; he never achieved fame on sticken fields as did his more renowned fellow tribesman Te Rehu-o-Tainui, but he figured in at least one fight. When the fight between Tuhoe and Ngati-Manawa at Te Tapiri took place in 1865, Maraea acted as the “prophet” of the Tuhoe force of warriors that ranged itself under the banner of Te Awanui. Old native friends of mine who fought under Te Awanui have described that engagement to me. As Maraea was the mouthpiece of the guiding genius of battle, then necessarily she became the director of the fighting. Truly are the usages of barbaric man a marvel to the human mind.
Dour old bushfighters who took part in that struggle have told me that Maraea claimed to possess marvellous
awe or refined essence of the human soul.
A similar instance of modern shamanism occurred in the fight against Imperial British troops at Orakau in 1864. One Penetiti, the “prophet” of the Tuhoe contingent, concocted a weird rongoa, or medicinal beverage, by means of boiling the bark, leaves, etc., of certain trees and plants. Prior to the commencement of the fighting he gave each member of the contingent a drink of this divine elixir, telling them that it would prevent the bullets of the enemy harming them. Unfortunately for Tuhoe some of the ingredients must have been omitted, for they found that the Pakeha bullets were extremely hurtful, so much so that many of the party never saw the forest-clad ranges of Ruatahuna again.
In the case of the fourth-class atua known as Te Rehu-o-Tainui, I can claim a fairly complete knowledge of the origin, manifestations, achievements, and wane of an atua maori. I lived for years with the tribe that fought under his sway, and among whom he originated. Many a tale of savagery have I listened to, as told by the sons of the fierce bushmen who raided the Awa lands, who rallied round the staff of Uhia the medium in the desperate fight of Lake Rerewhakaitu, and left but the drifting waters at Taupo-nui-a-Tia.
This was another atua kahu or caco-dæmon, a malignant spirit god evolved from the spirit of an immature birth. To destroy the power for evil of such a spirit it is necessary to obtain the services of an expert, who, by means of charms and offerings, can render it harmless. This particular evil spirit however, was never laid. Uhia, a member of the Tama-kai-moana clan of the Tuhoe tribe, resolved to placate the spirit by means of offerings, and to act as its medium. The offering was in the form of food, the semblance alone of which is consumed by the spirit. The newly-developed spirit received the name of Te-Rehu-o-Tainui, and his aria, or form of incarnation, was a lizard of the green-coloured species known as moko kakariki.
Uhia was now the fully accredited human medium of the new atua. So successful was he as regards prophetic utterances, that the fame of Te Rehu became known from the rocky shores of the Star Lake to the outlands of the Boiling Water Country. One of the first manifestations of the wondrous powers of Te Rehu occurred at the Tauranga stream, where Uhia, sustained by the powers of his atua, threw himself from the summit of a lofty tree, sustaining no injury from the fall! In these early stages of his mediumship Uhia is said to have acted as does a deranged person, which seems highly probable. When his condition became more normal, it was found that he was urua, or “possessed.” And then Uhia prepared a tuahu, a special place at which to perform the rites of divination, etc., pertaining to his new calling, and many wondrous acts were encompassed by him through the powers of Te Rehu. He looked through the gates of distance and saw coming occurrences evolve in the womb of time; he foretold precisely the result of fights as yet unfought; he diagnosed mysterious maladies and traced them to their remote sources. Truly the name of Te Rehu spread across far lands, and the fame of Uhia struck against the heavens.
The feats of Te Rehu and the medium Uhia would make a long story, but they were successful on many a hard-fought field. In after days the fame of both gradually waned and now, should you enquire of Tuhoe concerning Te Rehu, of the Children of the Mist, they will reply: “Te Rehu-o-Tainui is no more. That god is dead.” Nor could you convince them that gods never die. They will reply to that remark, as they did to a friend of the writer who made it: “Gods do die, if there are no priests to keep them alive.”
When we come to examine the Maori priesthood of former times, we find that, as in the case of their gods, they can be divided into classes of ranks. A system of classification is the easiest mode of describing the tohunga maori, as they were termed. The word to hunga, be it remembered, does not necessarily denote a priest. It really means an expert, and the title tohunga maori means “native expert.” The word maori means “native, ordinary,” etc; it was apparently not employed by the natives as a racial name for themselves in pre-European times. They described themselves as
tangata maori, native folk, or ordinary people, as in contra distinction to supernormal beings, but not as Maori. None of the early writers applied this name to the natives as a racial term, simply because they never heard it. The phrase tohunga maori simply means “native expert, or adept,” though as employed in every-day use it is understood to mean a priest or shaman. To be precise one should add to tohunga an explanatory term, as tohunga ahurewa or tohunga tuahu (a high-class priest), tohunga kehua (a shaman), tohunga makutu (a wizard), tohunga whaihanga (a carpenter), tohunga whakairo (a tattooing or carving artist,) tohunga tarai waka (a canoe-hewing expert), and so on.
The higher grade priests, whose titles are given above, confined themselves to the higher class ritual. They upheld the cult of Io and performed the higher class rites, but did not concern themselves with low class shamanistic practices. These men alone were acquainted with the ritual formulæ of the Io cultus, which contain a great number of sacerdotal expressions unknown to the majority of the people.
A second grade of the priesthood included those who were acquained with the ritual pertaining to the departmental and tribal gods, which they practised. One of their most prominent activities was in connection with war, and they were also prominent in others connected with agriculture, seafaring, fishing, woodcraft, and other industries and customs. These men did concern themselves with magic, though not with its lower phases as a rule. They were the advisers of the people in all ordinary matters, and, like the tohunga of the other two grades, posed as experts in regard to sickness. Their mode of treatment was empirical to a degree, inasmuch as all such afflictions were believed to be due to the malignant activities of evil spirits.
The shaman-like mediums of low-class atua or demons of the fourth class I would place in a third grade of tohunga; the term priest is assuredly too dignified a title to be applied to them. These shamanistic gentry were not above practising any sacerdotal jugglery they could devise, and they imposed upon the people in many ways. The superstition-ridden minds of the Maori folk rendered them an easy prey to these charlatans.
The descendants of the different vessels that brought the ancestors of the Maori to these isles place considerable stress upon the importance of the priests who came from Polynesia. Each party seems to believe that theirs was the most learned tohunga. Three renowned priests are said to have come hither in the vessel named Takitumu, namely, Ruawharo, Mahutonga, and Tupai. Some years ago the descendants of these migrants discussed the advisability of sending a deputation to Polynesia in order to seek records of ancient lore. They finally decided, however, that it would not be worth while, inasmuch as the most learned men of Polynesia of that period had come to New Zealand twenty generations ago Curiously enough I had heard the same story told in connection with the natives of Tahiti, who concluded that only inferior priests had come to New Zealand. So that both parties are quite satisfied as to their own knowledge of racial lore.
When a priest had taught some young man his own stores of knowledge, he would, When near his end, tell his pupil to ngau (bite), or whakaha, some part of his body just as the breath of life was passing from him. It was believed that this act had the effect of transmitting the mana (powers, prestige, psychic power, etc.), and knowledge of the dying man to the pupil. It was not the same part of the body that was so treated in all cases, for I have collected data concerning the ceremony as having been performed in connection with the top of the head, the ears, the perineum, and the big toe. In one case that an ex-pupil told me of, he had been instructed by his teacher to whakaha the crown of his head (Me whakaha to waha ki toku tipuaki). This meant that the pupil had to place his mouth to his teacher's head, open it slightly, and inhale his breath. The so-called biting meant that the person who performed it just closed his teeth on the part indicated. In some cases, when the performer had been a pupil of the dying person, the rite was performed in order to acquire his mana. In the case just quoted, the passing teacher said: “Cling to my teachings. Do not heed any other, and old age shall come to you.”
The present-day Maori makes much of the fact that teachers of Christianity are paid for their activities, which practice they condemn. They appear to forget that the
tohunga had performed a service for any person, then that person would present him with a garment, or some article of adornment, as a pendant, a supply of food, or some other article, as payment for his services.
The superior orders of priests were believed to possess amazing powers, as is shown in other parts of this chronicle. They were supposed to possess power over the elements, and also strange powers of mind over matter. If what we are told is anywhere near the truth, then some must have held certain hypnotic powers, while others appear to have practised suggestion in a remarkable way. It is now impossible to say how far the knowledge and powers of such persons did extend. The performance of an equivalent to what is called the mango trick, in Polynesia, reminds one of Indian performers. A well-known story tells of the visit of a distinguished Christian dignitary to an old native on the isle of Makoia in Lake Rotorua, in order to induce him to accept Christianity. The old man replied as follows: “I will accept your God if you can do this.” Whereupon he picked up a withered Cordyline leaf, uttered some formula, and behold! the leaf was fresh and green. The story is interesting, but I know of no proof of its correctness. As to the alleged powers of tohunga to blast trees, shatter stones, kill a distant person, by means of a magic formula and some form of innate, psychic mana, personally I have never placed much faith in them.
One of the most extraordinary beliefs of the Maori is that concerning what he calls the kura hau awatea and kura hau po. The first of these expressions denotes a solar halo and the latter a lunar halo. The Maori firmly believes that his tohunga of the upper class possessed the power to produce these phenomena at will, and to cause them to be seen thousands of miles away. We are told that in olden days this power was used for signalling purposes. Thus when Tama-ahua returned to eastern Polynesia from New Zealand, he told his sister, then living at Taranaki, that if he succeeded in making the two thousand mile voyage in safety, he would cause the
kura hau awatea to appear. That voyage was accomplished, and the sign duly appeared in the heavens, to the joy of his sister at Taranaki. Again, when Whatonga returned home to Tahiti from Rangiatea, he signalled news of his safe arrival by means of both the solar and lunar halos.
It was the practice of priests to face the sun when performing rites, and, as they were generally performed about sunrise, that meant facing the rising sun. Inasmuch as the word tohunga means simply “expert,” a number of terms were employed to denote priestly experts who performed special rites, as those pertaining to the baptism of children, divination, ceremonies pertaining to war, sickness, death, etc. Such qualifying expressions as tohiora, waitohi, matatuhi, taua, tuahu, tuakoi, taurewa, and tarahau were thus inserted after the title tohunga. A tohunga kehua was simply a low-class shaman. High-class priests and ariki (head of a principal family) were looked upon as taumata atua, resting places or mediums of the gods.
It was absolutely essential that a tohunga should preserve his condition of tapu, otherwise he would not only lose all his supernormal powers, but also he would no longer be able to obtain benefits or assistance of any nature from the gods.
When the system of tapu was broken down by the incoming Europeans, both Maori religion and the Maori social system were doomed, for tapu was the basis of both those institutions. Many young men who were being trained as tohunga abandoned native teachings and accepted Christianity. Some of the conservative priests, viewing with disapproval the new movement, simply withdrew into the background and treated the new religion as an objectionable innovation. These men were viewed by missionaries with no friendly eye, and to this day one may hear descendants of those who sowed the good seed speak most disparagingly of such men at Te Matorohanga, because they clung to their old faith. The whole question of Maori Christianity is one very much misunderstood, and often misrepresented. One enthusiastic early missionary reported to his society that the natives of the North Island were “thirsting for Jesus.” Those who know the Maori marvel at the effect of enthusiasm upon the human mind.
The tohunga maori entered into many activities, and one of the most interesting of his fields of research was that of astronomy. Many of these men had a remarkably intimate knowledge of the stars. In olden days, when performing long ocean voyages, such knowledge was imperative among a people ignorant of the compass. During the long residence in New Zealand such knowledge may well have decreased, but still a constant study of the stars was considered necessary here. This was owing to the fact that it was firmly believed that the stars not only give forth signs of coming events, and weather conditions, but also have an important influence on food supplies.
There seems to be some evidence to show that the different versions of Polynesian mythys, ritual, tradition, etc., are of comparatively modern growth, though possibly centuries old. For some time after the race entered the Polynesian area no doubt their prized lore would be preserved in the various groups in a fairly homogeneous manner. Moreover, we hear half-remembered traditions of meetings of peoples from many isles at some specially tapu centre, such as Opoa, on the island of Ra'iatea, where such lore was recited in its approved form for the benefit of all. In later times dissensions arose, and, in some cases, such as that of the settlers in New Zealand, isolation would certainly have its effect as time rolled on. Thus we may account for the different dialects, and differences in ritual, mythys, etc.; discrepancies would assuredly creep in.
It often occurred that the office of tohunga descended from father to son, but at any time there might be a break in continuity, for divers reasons. When a tohunga was also an ariki, or superior chief, he occupied a very important position, and possessed much influence with the people.
When a priest invoked his atua, that being had different ways of communicating its messages to the human medium. One of these was by spoken language, and the familiar is said to have always spoken in a whistling tone of voice. Some writers believe that these mediums were often ventriloquists. The fact that the Maori seldom whistled, and appeared to dislike whistling, may have been owing to a belief that it was a special attribute of supernatural beings.
The powers displayed by the native priests to throw themselves into a trace-like condition, and also to act in a wild, frenzied manner when the spirits of atua entered them, are met with among savage and barbaric folk the world over. Apparently the higher-class Maori priests did not indulge in these extravagances, but they were common among the lower-grade tohunga, and the people firmly believed that the medium was “possessed” at such times.
With reference to the so-called “mango trick” of India, and a similar feat formerly performed in Polynesia, the following is worthy of note. When the present President of the Polynesian Society was at Tahiti some twenty odd years ago, a native woman of Ra'iatea island told him that her grandfather, a tohunga of that isle, had possessed very remarkable powers. As a child she had witnessed the performance by him of the following feat:—
Before the assembled people he plucked a breadfruit from an adjacent tree, which, before their eyes, he buried in the earth. He then recited some formula of words, and the people saw breadfruit leaves sprouting from the ground where the fruit had been buried. As they looked the tree grew before their eyes until it reached a height of about ten feet, then the flowers appeared, and finally the fruit. This performance was not witnessed by any European, and hence we cannot vouch for the truth of the story. It is, however, but a parallel of the Indian performance, and possibly the woman saw, or rather thought she saw, the marvel related by her. If true, then the
tohunga must have possessed the power of hypnotising a number of people at one time.
As already observed, the duties of the tohunga were multifarious. The sick man claimed his services; at the birth and death of the individual he officiated, also at his marriage in some cases. Did men go forth to fell a tree for a canoe, or house building, he would accompany them, kindle the sacred fire and placate Tane. When a canoe was first launched he was again in request. When crops were planted his ceremonial performances were highly necessary, as also when they were lifted. He held an important position in time of war, when the bird snaring season opened, and in connection with sea fishing. So we might proceed to mention the innumerable
We have now to scan an institution that was a highly important force in Maori life, and it is imperative that the reader should understand its peculiarities and far-reaching influence. In the first place let me state that tapu emanates from the gods. Lacking the gods, then tapu, magic (makutu), spiritual and intellectual mana (power) could not exist. the hidden force, the vivifying power, that rendered these institutions and qualities effective, came from the gods.
To put the matter briefly, it may be said that tapu means prohibition, a multiplication of “Thou shalt not.” These may be termed the laws of the gods, and they must not be infringed. The penalty for neglect of these unspoken commands is the withdrawal of the protecting power of the gods. This left the erring one in parlous plight, for it meant that his active life principle was seriously affected, and nothing stood between the innumerable evil influences that are ever active, and his defenceless body. Let us now seek the cause of origin of this fear of the gods and of the dread tapu empowered by the gods. That cause can be given briefly: it was the fact that offences against the gods are punished in this world, not in the spirit world to come.
When man believes that to offend the gods means his own death in the near future, then the punishment is so near that it terrifies him. When, as with us, the punishment is postponed to a distant period in a vague spirit world, then man's fear is much diminished.
The shadow of tapu lay over the Maori from birth until death, his very bones and their resting place remained tapu for all time. The higher the rank of a person the more tapu was he. It is interesting to note that slaves were held to be free from tapu, and yet no explanation is given as to their condition of welfare and their survival, why they did not perish in such a defenceless condition. The influence or essence of the gods that enshrouds or pervades all tapu persons is the vehicle of that quality. If it is necessary to a freeman,
To trespass on a burial ground, or a forest or stream under tapu, was a serious offence, and only a tohunga could save the offender from the anger of the gods. The same may be said of many other such acts, many of them of a very trivial nature in our eyes. To eat of the remains of a meal of an important tapu person was a suicidal act. A native has been known to beg a drink of water from a European settler, who handed it to him in a cup. The native drank the water, then deliberately and very completely broke the cup. He had to from his point of view, otherwise some person might drink from it later, and so perish at the hands of the gods. Thus it was that, in former times, a tapu person never put a water vessel to his mouth in order to drink, for it would have been necessary to at once destroy the vessel or carefully preserve it for his use only. An attendant would pour the water into his cupped hands, from which he drank. A native once borrowed a cooking vessel from me in order to cook therein some food for a sick child. The child happened to die, and so the pot borrower asked my permission to destroy the vessel. The tapu of death was on it.
There was much of tapu pertaining to sickness, death, burial, exhumation of the bones, and the final disposal thereof. Bearers of handlers of the dead, or of exhumed bones, were excessively tapu in the sense of being “unclean.” Such persons would be fed by others until freed from tapu; they could not touch food with their hands. An attendant would use a sharpened stick as a fork to put food in their mouths. If a person died in a house, it became tapu and could no longer be occupied. When camped at Ohiramoko, in the Rua-tahuna district, some twenty-three years ago, I noted a carved post overgrown with bush, and found that it was a kind of mortuary memorial. Many years before a chief named Te Puehu had been taken ill away from home, and was carried on a litter back to his own village, for a Maori always wants to die on his own land. At the spot referred to the bearers had deposited the litter for a space in order to rest, and so, when
tapu ever since. Another resting place of the bearers was also marked by a similar memorial, which was, however, destroyed by the Native Contingent when Colonel Whitmore's column raided Rua-tahuna in 1869.
Any place where a person has died, or been killed, may be proclaimed a tapu spot. When Mahia was slain at Te Papuni the place was rendered tapu. Some persons ate some of the food products of the forest at that place, hence they were attacked and slain by the relatives of Mahia. They had desecrated the tapu; it was a deadly offence. It can easily be seen that a person might unwittingly commit a dreadful act of sacrilege in Maoriland, and so lose his life, possibly an intertribal war might spring from it. Such occurrences were by no means infrequent. The infringement of the laws of tapu was a frequent cause of quarrels between early settlers and the natives, and the massacre of the French commander
When a village was attacked and some of its inhabitants slain, then the survivors might desert the place and construct a new hamlet elsewhere. I have notes concerning a number of such cases. No such move would be made unless the slain were persons of importance, however. After the eruption of Tarawera in 1886, the natives living at Ruatoki were told by tapu. The tapu condition had been caused by the ashes from Tarawera having been deposited over the district, and that eruption had killed many natives in the vicinity of Tarawera. It was the tapu of death again.
When the chief Te Ahuru died at the fortified village of Te Tawhero, at Ruatoki, that village became too tapu to be inhabited, hence the villagers abandoned it and built a new one elsewhere. Such an occurrence was not, however, of frequent happening. Probably the cause of removal was the fact that no priest of sufficient mana to remove the tapu was available at that time. Battle grounds remained tapu in some cases for generations to those who had had friends slain there-
tapu thereby; as, for instance, a place where such a person was tattooed. The tapu of burial places and mortuary caves was particularly emphasised, and we hear of priests locating lizards at such places to act as guardians of the tapu. A pond near Ruatoki is known as Te Roto-tapu (the Tapu Pool) because, in olden times, the local natives concealed their dead therein. Bones of the dead were often painted with a preparation of red ochre ere being placed in a cave or elsewhere. Other tapu objects were often so painted, hence it has come to be said by us that red is the sacred colour of the Maori; its use, however, was not confined to tapu objects.
Tapu pertained to forests, and, prior to the opening of the bird snaring season, such tapu was lifted by an adept. During this season birds’ feathers were tapu; no one was allowed to scatter them about; they were buried so as to be out of sight. Any loose feathers, or dead birds found in the forest were also buried. The native belief prompting this peculiar action seems to have been that, should birds see such feathers, they would at once abandon that district and migrate elsewhere. Fowlers were not allowed to carry cooked food in the forest, for such an act would render it tamaoatia (poluted); that is, the tapu of the forest would be so polluted. Here, it is well to explain that tapu removing rites would, in many cases, be better described as tapu lessening rites; they do not, and cannot, wholly remove the restriction; this applies to persons and places.
Some peculiar restrictions applied to bird snarers. These were not allowed, while engaged at their craft, to use certain words connected with it, lest the birds should hear them and leave the forest, or refuse to enter a snare. In like manner those engaged in trapping rats in the forest were careful not to speak after they had set their traps the first time. After they had visited their traps the following morning, and secured the trapped rats, they were free to speak again. Among some northern tribes many common words were tapu to rat trappers when plying their craft in the forest. Thus for tamaiti (child) they employed the term moiti; for wahine (woman) the word puanga; for koroua (old man) the word purakau; for a
himu; and so on, these words not being used in such connection at other times, except purakau, and that infrequently.
Among the Takitumu folk the miromiro and tatahore, two small forest birds, were considered tapu, inasmuch as birds of these species were made use of in certain ritual performances described elsewhere. A fish might also become tapu, thus the araara was tapu to a certain tribe, and could not be eaten by its members, because it was believed that the body of one of their chiefs had been consumed by fish of that species. Should a person of note be drowned, then the river, lake, or part of the ocean in which he lost his life would remain tapu for a considerable period. The Whakatane river at Ruatoki was tapu to the Tuhoe folk for years, because a dog that had been found gnawing the body of the dead chief Te Ahuru was killed while crossing that river.
Some prominent persons of yore were so tapu that, should the shadow of such a person fall on a hut, or a supply of food, such things would have to be destroyed or put away at once. When Ta-manuhiri went a-fishing with others in the canoe of Kahu-paroro, he was afflicted by a bleeding from the nose. So important a person was he that the party at once returned to land, where not only were the fish caught put away, but the canoe, the result of many months’ labour with stone tools, was destroyed. The flowing blood of a highly tapu person had rendered both unusable. Again, when a new canoe was being made, then the vessel, the place where it was being made, and the makers were all tapu. No unathorised person was allowed to visit the spot. Should a woman visit the place it meant a serious pollution of tapu, and the gods under whose aegis the craftsmen were working, would at once abandon the place. After that nothing would go well, even if the vessel were completed the gods would never deign to guard it from harm. Should it be taken to sea, it would be defenceless against the dangers of the ocean. Tawhirimatea (personified form of winds) and the whole of the Wind Children would assail it; Rakahore (personified form of rock) would strive to crush it, and ere long Hine-moana, the Ocean Maid, would engulf it. Similar conditions pertained to the building of a new house. We must note, however, that these restric-
tapu, and not to small river canoes and rude huts.
There is a certain amount of tapu pertaining to dwelling houses, especially to the roof, and also the right hand side as you enter, where the most important of the inmates sleep. The rear post supporting the ridgepole was the most tapu part of a house that possessed a whatu, or talisman, for it was buried at the base of that post. Nothing would induce a genuine Maori to drink water that had fallen as rain on the roof of his house, and this prejudice has incommoded many who dwell in houses of European form.
The tapu of a new net for sea fishing was extremely rigid, and no one but the makers thereof were allowed near it, or that part of the beach and adjacent waters where it was first used. The tapu of cultivation grounds was of a similar nature. Any path might become tapu for any one of a number of reasons, and while in that condition no person might use it. Paths leading to cultivated fields wherein the sweet potato was planted were often rendered tapu. The planters of crops were also under tapu. These restrictions were the result of the close connection between all these activities and the gods. The favour and goodwill of those gods must be retained, no matter how irksome the various restrictions might be. The condition of tapu of these places would be notified by some mark in a conspicuous place. Early travellers tell us of such marks consisting of a bunch of human hair suspended on a pole or tree.
Persons who were heavily tapu ate their meals alone. Even ordinary persons when under special tapu, such as that pertaining to war gods, would not eat with women. Excessively tapu persons were in many cases fed by another person, as they might not touch cooked food with their hands. Persons of low caste, who chanced to become exceedingly tapu, such as handlers of the dead, were sometimes compelled to gnaw their food like dogs as it lay on the ground. These “unclean” persons could not touch the food with their hands, and so suffered much discomfiture until the tapu was lifted from them.
The head was the most tapu part of a tapu person, and persons of importance were sometimes exceedingly unkempt, not to say dirty, so far as the head was concerned. Only a tohunga of high standing might cut the hair of such a person, and after the dread task was accomplished the hapless haircutter would for days be in a condition of helpless tapu, unable to feed himself. In very serious cases it might require two, or even three persons to feed him. One attendant would prepare the food, another would bear it to a certain place and there deposit it, while a third would come and fetch it and convey it to the tapu one, and feed him. Angas tells us that the wife of Taonui was under tapu for a week after she had cut her husband's hair. Captain Cook wrote of a native visitor: “He refrained from eating the greatest part of the day, on account of his hair being cut, though every method was tried to induce him to break his resolution.”
Any place where a fire has been kindled in connection with ritual functions remains tapu, in some cases for generations. Any desecration of such places would be severely punished by the gods; indeed the death of the offender would probably be the result, unless he hied him to a tohunga, who would, for a consideration, banish the danger and preserve the life of the credulous sufferer. The condition of such a transgressor is a form of tapu, allied to the “unclean” state already described. The peculiar act called taiki was performed by women who wished to procure abortion. Such a woman would take some cooked food to a tapu place, or place it in contact with a tapu, person; any similar action would, in native belief, cause the death of the unborn child. The word tapena has a similar meaning to that of taiki; as also have the verbs tamaoa and tapohe. To place a tapu object in a place where it must become polluted is described as a tapohe. I was once informed by an old native that an impediment in speech, or a nasal tone in any person, is the result of his mother having offended against some law of tapu.
When a young girl was betrothed, possibly in her childhood, she was said to be tapu. In some cases a person had a tapu name, and any word of vernacular speech that entered into such name could not be used by the people. To make use
tapu was taken off the name then the word would come into general use again.
Messengers despatched on some special errand by or to a tohunga are still sometimes tapu for the time being. Under such conditions they could not halt by the wayside for a meal, or even speak to any person encountered on the journey.
A condition of tapu may be brought about by some act of a person, such as we have already examined, or by a condition, such as betrothal or pregnancy, by contact with tapu objects, by being concerned in some rite, and in divers other ways.
The left foot of such a person as a tohunga is spoken of as being the tapu one, the one possessing mana. Hence in certain ritual performances he placed his left foot on the body of a person, as, for example, when reciting the Haruru or Hono charms over a wounded man.
Meals were taken in the open, or in the porch of a house, and not eaten in the tapu dwelling houses. Tohunga and other tapu persons suffered much incovenience from many restrictions, and were very careful to preserve their condition unsullied. Mana itself hinges on tapu, and the latter on the gods. The tapu of an ariki has quite a different aspect to that of a tohunga, or priest, though the two might be amalgamated in a single person of the ariki class. The Tohi rite, of which more anon, had an important effect on the tapu of a child of the ariki class.
We have now discussed many phases of tapu, and may conclude our remarks on this subject by observing how the condition of tapu was abolished, how it was lifted from persons, places and things.
The freeing of a person, etc., from tapu bore two aspects. In some cases it was a complete removal of such restriction, but in others the act of whakanoa, as it was termed, was merely a partial removal of the restriction. For instance, take the case of an extremely tapu person, such as a priest or high chief. Such a person was always tapu, but he might, for a period, be placed under a more stringent form of it owing to one of the numerous causes we have scanned. In
whakanoa rite removed merely the temporary excess, but not the ordinary tapu of such persons.
The ceremonial removal of tapu also differed much. In some matters of small moment, and also in some cases wherein people of inferior social status were concerned, the ceremony might merely consist of the eating of a small article of cooked food. In important matters, however, and in cases concerning persons of importance, a very much more ceremonial function was enacted, and the proceedings bore a much more sacerdotal aspect. Now cooked food is the very antithesis of tapu, it is noa (void of tapu) and also contains inherent powers of polution. Uncooked food is by no means so hostile to tapu. Thus the consuming of cooked food is an act that very frequently entered into tapu removing rites. To convey such food to a tapu place was a very serious misdemeanour, and has meant death to many persons.
I well remember an incident that occurred in one of my bush camps long years ago. A travelling native friend arrived thereat one evening, and stated his intention of staying the night. After an evening's conversation on the subject of native legendary lore, my worthy friend retired to an adjacent hut to pass the night therein. Having stripped off all his garments, after the manner Maori, he wrapped his blanket round him and lay down to sleep. Happening to look up, however, he spied a bag of flour and a side of bacon suspended from the ridgepole above him. This truly alarming sight was too much for my guest; he gathered up his belongings and stalked into my tent, where he passed the night, first glancing at the ridgepole in order to ascertain if it supported any soul-destroying food product. Now the articles that had so dismayed him were not cooked foods, but he deemed them quite harmful enough to imperil his tapu life principle.
On another occasion I camped a night at a small native hamlet, and hung up my saddle bags to the ridgepole of the tent in which my host was temporarily sojourning. This was a foolish act, and ere long he asked me, with some anxiety, if they contained any food. On my telling him that they held some biscuits, he asked to be allowed to hand them in the cooking shed. Such are the prejudices of the Maori, the outcome
tapu. Although that system was broken down by early missionaries, yet traces of it still linger. In the isolated hill district wherein I was residing tapu, was still in evidence.
One way of removing tapu was as follows:—Supposing a person's hands had become tapu, and he wished to have them freed from that harassing condition. A fire would be specially kindled, at which a small portion of food would be roasted, and this food was applied to his hands and then eaten by the female member of his family who acted as a ruahine in ceremonial performances. Such a woman is sometimes the oldest female of a family, and she takes part in most tapu removing rites. This employement of a female represents the participation of the female element that is held to be necessary. The above is one of the very simplest of such functions. In connection with important matters, the removal of tapu from a new house, canoe, or village, or from the scholars of the tapu School of Learning, the rite was much more elaborate and spectacular, as is shown elsewhere. The food employed in this particular rite removes or absorbs, as it were, the tapu, which is then transferred to the ruahine who represents the tapu spirits of ancestral beings. A woman was always the first person to cross the threshold of a new and tapu house during such a rite. The very fact of a woman passing over a tapu spot would pollute or destroy its sanctity, for such is the effect of that sex. As a native friend put it to me—should a woman trespass on a place where a new tapu canoe was being made, then the gods would retire, and when the vessel was taken to sea they would not watch over and protect her, hence anything might happen.
It must be understood that ritual formulæ entered into tapu lifting rites, brief recitals in the case of the simpler ceremonies, and longer, more elaborate effusions in connection with important matters. Again, another fact to be borne in mind is that the whakanoa rite was, in certain cases, a purificatory one, as for examples, in connection with death, and also birth. Persons who have handled the dead, and women during childbirth were looked upon as “unclean” (tapu), and the above rite abolished that condition. The general aspect of tapu, its rules and restrictions, is of a remarkably Oriental nature.
Occasionally human sacrifice entered into the whakahoa rite, as in connection with the tapu name of an important chief: this occurred in but few cases.
The word huhu is another term employed to denote the removal of tapu, the gerundial form thereof being huhunga; thus huhunga tapu is rendered as “tapu removing.” But enough of tapu and its removal for the time; we shall meet with both again when observing the rites of olden days.
Under the heading “Ritual Performances and Formulæ” we shall survey certain activities that entered largely into the life of the Maori. Apart from the more important ceremonies, and religious or shamanistic formulæ, there were innumerable simple ceremonies and charms known to and employed by all persons. Every man practised many simple ceremonial acts in order to bring him good fortune, or avert some feared misfortune. Many simple charms were also used for like purposes. The innumerable superstitions of the people prompted them to rely on these means to preserve life and welfare.
The number of karakia or ritual formulæ employed by the Maori folk must have been very remarkable. Hundreds of such effusions have been collected by European investigators, and I am convinced that a very large number is still unknown to us. But few examples will be given herein, inasmuch as they are not, as a rule, interesting productions.
In the first place it will be well to impress upon the reader the leading fact that, in his dealings with his gods, the Maori almost invariably relied on indirect influence. Worship and true prayer, entreaty, invocations, entered but little into Maori ritual. What there was of true invocation was connected principally with the higher gods. Indirect methods were employed in order to influence the gods, and this policy was carried to such extremes in ritual formulæ that it would be an absurdity to style such productions prayers. All Maori ceremonial was influenced, not by love for the gods, but by fear of them, and faith in their powers. Even in the case of the beneficent deity Io, the feeling of the Maori was one of awe, not love. How can one love an abstraction? We ourselves often employ quite erroneous terms when speaking of such matters.
The native word karakia possesses a wide range of meaning. It is employed to denote the very simplest form of charm, and childish jingles repeated by little folk over their toys, also the highest form of invocation, the nearest approach to what we style prayer. In most cases there is no sign of entreaty, or of any request, to be noted in these effusions, and the words employed contain no reference whatever to the subject under consideration. As this is the case, one might suppose that one formula might have been employed for all purpose, but not so, each matter, each stage of a process, had its own particular charm assigned to it. The act of repeating the words, the fact that they are recited, and in a proper manner, is supposed to affect the gods, and cause them to be complacent. Now the origin of this peculiar attitude of the Maori, and of the aspect of aloofness noted in his formulæ, lies in the fact that they are based on sympathetic magic. Magic preceded religion, and indirectness was its most peculiar feature. In his endeavours to rise to a higher level in communicating with his gods, that is to say in his efforts to evolve a genuine religion, the Maori did not rise at once to true prayer, but continued to work on the lines of sympathetic magic.
As observed, some of the formulæ employed were extremely simple. For instance, the following brief expression was made use of by a person suffering from stomach ache. He would repeat a number of times this sentence: “Meinga atu ki a Mea he kopito toku” (Tell---that I have a stomach ache). In each repetition he would repeat the name of a chief or of a tohunga (priestly expert). The idea of the reciter would be that such persons would have influential relatives in the spirit world who might be disposed to help him. Quite possibly his affliction had been caused by one of such spirits, in which case the words uttered might induce it to relent, and so relieve the sufferer. Now, surely the above may be viewed as the most primitive form of what we term prayer. In ceremonial acts we may scan examples of equally crude ideas, examples of the ancient method of acting an invocation instead of putting it into words.
It is this fact that the wording of native charms has, as a rule, no bearing on the subject, that has such a puzzling effect
karakia as “prayer” or “invocation,” but it simply denotes a formula, a form of words employed for some purpose, but which may be as puerile as our childish jingle: “Rainy, rainy, go away, and come again another day.” Thus it will be seen that all persons of all ages were acquainted with karakia, more or less. As soon as a child could take part in childish games it acquired certain simple but rhythmical and euphonious recitations employed to cause a kite to fly, a top to spin, and so on; these jingles were termed karakia. A wrestler employed charms to weaken his adversary, and others to endow himself with strength. A runner would charm his own footsteps to render him fleet of foot, and repeat another charm to delay his opponent. The woodsman employed them in placating Tane ere felling a tree, in snaring birds, or trapping rats. The fisherman had many charms for many purposes. The fighting man was compelled to know another budget. Others were for the purpose of confounding the dread arts of the sorcerer. And so, in every activity of life, charms were employed.
Division of labour would have been a boon to the Maori, but as every man was a soldier, a farmer, a housebuilder, a boatman, a fowler and fisherman, then it follows that he was forced to learn many trades, and to acquaint himself with many charms, and other usages. But the tohunga, the priestly adepts, were the men who possessed the greatest number of charms; they were the very stock in trade of those gentry; the higher the grade of the priest, why then the greater his supply of charms.
It is somewhat unfortunate that the Maori should have but one term to include all formulæ, from rhythmic cosmogonic chaunts, couched in fine language, to the crude incantations of the low-class thaumaturgist. It is in the widely embracing use of such words as karakia and tohunga that the native tongue shows one of its weaknesses.
With regard to the performance of rites, ceremonial functions, all persons were acquainted with a certain number of simple acts performed in order to avert evil omens, etc., but what may perhaps be termed religious rites were in the hands of the few, the priest class. There is another matter that should be stressed, namely, that mana was an important factor in the attainment of success as a priest. A man who possessed human mana (mana tangata) was neccessarily a person of importance and influence. An incantation uttered by such a person would be effective. Mana atua, again, is a yet higher quality; by its aid man was enabled to perform great deeds, and such power emanates from the gods. After all a karakia, or charm, is merely a form of words, the power that renders it effective comes from the gods. Inasmuch as the Maori has lost his mana owing to the intrusion of Europeans, and their introduction of Christianity, it follows that no native ritual formulæ would be effective now. The old-time gods of the Maori are dead, or have deserted their kinsmen of the world of life.
All these formulæ were recited in a measured, rhythmic manner; indeed the higher class productions may be said to have been intoned. In the case of men well accustomed to such utterances the delivery was quite impressive, being smooth and euphonious; the sonorous tone of the Maori voice lending itself with good effect to such chaunts. In all cases of important formulæ it was absolutely necessary that such be repeated without any mistake; an error made in the delivery might result in the death of the reciter. The gods were supposed to punish him by inflicting the death penalty; certainly his fears of such a fate would affect him deeply. Another remarkable fact is that such effusions, or each division of a formula, had to be rendered in a single breath. The Maori possessed very remarkable powers in that way, but in cases wherein his powers fell short of the demand on them, he would have an assistant. The first performer would commence and continue the chaunting of the formula until his breath gave out, perhaps in the middle of a world, when his assistant would instantly take it up and carry it on to completion. Thus were the gods appeased.
The faith possessed by the Maori in his charms was a remarkable quantity. Thus he will tell you, in all gravity, that by means of such formulæ, backed up by mana, his ancestors could shatter stone, blast trees, destroy animal life, raise or quell a storm, calm the ocean, together with many other wonderful things. It is in connection with such feats as these that the Maori employs the term mana to denote psychic force.
In most cases preists engaged in the performance of what were deemed important rites stood facing the east. In some cases a priest pointed his hand toward the rising sun, in others both arms were extended, in yet others only the forearms. Rites were usually performed early in the morning, and no food might be cooked, or fire kindled, until the performance was over. The officiating priest divested himself of his garments, and was clad in nought save some green twigs twisted round his loins. Such are the demands of tapu. The Maori held the belief, still held, I believe, by members of the Roman Catholic Church, that prayer and ritual performed on an empty stomach are much more effective than if performed after a meal. So near are we to primitive superstition.
Fasting was practised by the Maori on a number of other occasions, for many tapu functions were marked by fasting. Thus the teaching of all high-class matter was a tapu function, and so neither scholars nor teachers might partake of food until the teaching was over for the day. Again, crops were planted in the same way, hence, as may be imagined, the workmen did not work long hours. In brief, many functions and activities were marked by fasting, and faith in its efficacy was founded on the belief that fasting means purity. There was another form of purity demanded in some cases, as when a person was about to have an important religious rite performed over him. It was considered necessary that he should be in a condition of moral purity, hence he was subjected to a process consisting of confession and absolution, sometimes accompanied by immersion in water. It is here that we note a peculiar and interesting innovation in Maori religion, namely, the introduction of ethics; religion was beginning to concern itself with morality. The
hara and raruraru, offences against tapu and morality. The absolutory rite left the subject in a condition of moral purity and mental clarity, in a fit condition to undergo the rite, and in possession of clear faculties for the performance of his duties. This freeing of a person from all disabilities is described as “he wetewete i nga raruraru,” and as “e ruke ana i nga he, i nga mate”—a loosening or setting free from pernicious hindrances, a casting forth of troubles, transgressions and disabilities. Briefly it is termed the hirihiri rite; when performed over men about to tread the path of the war god, it is known as tohi taua. In this case it was accompanied by aspersion. Lustral rites were often marked by aspersion, immersion, or ablution. These purificatory ceremonies left the subject in a pure and fit condition for consideration by the gods. In cases of aspersion a branchlet of the karamu shrub (a Coprosma) was usually employed as a sprinkler; or one of kawakawa ( Macropiper excelsum).
Many of the religious rites of the Maori were performed at or in water. Thus some stream, pond or pool near a village was set aside as a wai tapu (prohibited or sacred water), at which such functions, took place. Such a place would be avoided by the people, and the waters thereof could not be used for domestic purposes. It is a curious and interesting fact that many practices of Christianity have been borrowed from paganism, and have come down to us from barbaric man.
A form of vegetable scapegoat was employed occasionally, as when a hamlet was suffering from some epidemic sickness. A priest would loosely attach a stalk (stipe) of bracken (Pteris aquilina) to the body of a person, over whom he then recited some formula that had the effect of locating in the stalk the evil influences that had been affecting the people. The person then entered the water, immersed his body therein, and, while under water, released the stalk and allowed it to float away. It was supposed to carry away the aforesaid evil influences.
A very marked feature of Maori ritual was the use made of what we may term sacred fires, in fact, the word “fire” entered in many cases into the name of the rite. These
ahi tapu (ahi=fire). The kindling of special fire in connection with ritual functions is a very old and widespread custom. Its use for such purposes by the Maori may have been influenced, or even caused, by the belief that fire was originally of celestial origin. These sacerdotal fires were rendered tapu by the karakia or formula recited over them by a priest; in fact, there were certain spells repeated while the fire was being generated. By means of another formula the priest would, as the Maori expresses it, locate the gods in the fire, the gods to whom he was about to appeal. The act of generating fire by friction, the “fire plough” of the Polynesian, is termed hika ahi.
The tapu fires were employed for many purposes, and in the following examples the ritual functions are called fires:—
There are many other names pertaining to the above list, names denoting rites in which (manawa) of the first enemy slain in a fight.Tapu fires and rites connected with tree felling.tapu fire was employed. In some cases, we are told, the priest did not actually kindle a fire, but simply went through the motion of the fire-generating process with a piece of stick held in his hand. Any spot on which a tapu fire has been kindled remains tapu, and to trespass on such a place is highly dangerous, for the trespasser is punished by the gods, usually in the form of illness. A person so afflicted would apply to the priest, who would, for a consideration, rescue him from a highly dangerous position, otherwise death would probably ensue. Priests of all ages and all culture planes have traded on superstition.
Fire entered into the rite termed whakau, by means of which travellers were protected from all the malign influences supposed to exist, and be active in, all lands outside the tribal
tapu of the gods who had protected them.
When a frost threatened the crops of a village community, a person would seize a live firebrand, proceed to the mianga (village urinal), and there wave it to and fro as he recited an apparently meaningless formula called a tatai whetu (star recital). While reciting this jingle he kept moving the index finger of his right hand as though counting the stars. This act is said to have dispelled a frost.
In a singular rite performed over a sick person, the operator procured a dead ember and a piece of the herb styled puha, both of which he passed under the left thigh of the invalid, and then waved towards the heavens.
The following form of the tuapa, or “warding off” rite, was explained to me by old Tipihau of Maunga-pohatu. Its object was to prevent the wairua (soul) of a deceased person returning to annoy the living. A wooden post or slab was set upright in the earth as a tangible object to represent the wairua. At this post an adept would repeat certain karakia or formulæ to “lay” the ghost of the dead. One of those so repeated was the Ahi, or fire-generating charm, and, while reciting it, the operator went through the motion of fire kindling by rubbing a stick on the ground. As a climax, to show his mana, the priestly adept would then raise the wind called tutaka-ngahau, or cause thunder to resound. The tapu of the proceedings was then lifted, a woman, termed a ruahine when so employed, assisting in this latter function.
The ceremonial “fire walking” act of Polynesia and other lands was also known and occasionally practised in New Zealand. Its only purport here, so far as I have been able to ascertain, was to add mana, prestige, force, renown, eclat, to ritual functions. In Polynesia it is called the umu ti, and is manuipulated as a huge umu or steam oven. After the performance of the fire walk, the oven is utilised for cooking a collection of roots of the ti, a species of Cordyline. It was this same umu that was utilised in New Zealand. The act was one, not of walking through fire, but of walking barefoot over extremely hot stones, heated for hours on a huge fire kindled in the pit. Apparently only a certain kind of stone
umu ti of Tahiti and the Cook Group. The Journal of the Polynesian Society contains several accounts of such performances. Fire-walking can be traced back to Asia.
In the above ceremonial affair we note a curious usage, the inclusion of a food steaming oven in ceremonial functions. Religious ceremonies were, among our Maori folk, often marked by a similar practice. A steam oven or steaming pit, the ordinary mode of cooking, was utilised for the cooking of food to be used in a ceremonial manner. That food might be a single tuber of kumara, to be used in the Whakanoa rite, or it might be a large quantity of varied foods destined for a ritual feast. All important religious functions were marked by a ceremonial feast. As in the case of the sacred or ritual fires, so also with these umu or steam ovens, the name of such oven came to be used as a name for the rite itself. Thus Umu hiki is the name of a certain magic rite; Umu tamoe that of a rite performed in order to deprive enemies of power; Umu pururangi is another to calm high winds, and Umu pongipongi a rite of black magic to destroy human life. Imu is a variant form of umu, and so we hear of the Imu horokaka, which is equivalent to Ahi horokaka, a war rite, also the Imu kirihau, Imu pararahi, etc.
When a tapu ceremony, as those pertaining to birth, death, exhumation, etc., was accompanied by a ritual feast, then the food for such feast had to be prepared in different lots, which were cooked in separate ovens. This was owing to the different gradations of tapu and social rank. In the Bay of Plenty district the following are the names of the four ovens in which food was cooked for the ceremonial feast pertaining to such functions as the Tua or baptismal rite performed over an infant:—
arero whero (fighting men).kaihau women
The kaihau women, or kairangi women, are those who act as ruahine (priestesses) in religious rites. These oven names
Some explanation should be given here of the curious uses to which hair was put in connection with ritual performances. Human hair entered into ceremonial observances in a peculiar manner, presumably for the same reason that human saliva did, because it was something by which the human body could be represented. Also, the hair of the head of a man of rank and important mana might be thought to represent that mana, as also his tapu. The head of a tapu person is the most tapu part of his body, and hence hair-cutting in connection with such persons was really a religious function. The operator would remain tapu, and so practically helpless, for some time after the ceremonial hair-trimming; in fact, until the Whakanoa or tapu lifting rite was performed over him. One singular fact connected with hair-cutting was that it sometimes entered into important religious rites as a sort of climax; it was the final act of the ceremony with the exception of the removal of tapu from the participants.
Hair was cut with sharp-edged flakes of obsidian, the operator holding a small truft with his left hand, and cutting it with the flake held in his right hand. The result must have been a somewhat ragged clip. We hear of certain communities that had special days for hair-cutting, days that were highly tapu, when many people assembled at a central village. The act of cutting was accompanied by ritual formulæ, and the whole performance was conducted as a religious function. The people would fast until the operations were over, when a ceremonial and general feast would be held. The severed hair would be burned, or deposited at a tapu place, such as the tuahu. Offerings of human hair were made to the gods, as in Polynesia.
We know that, in many cases, the tapu was lifted from participants in a rite as soon as that rite was concluded. It is by no means clear why this was not done in all cases, but it certainly was not. Persons who had become tapu by such participation often remained so for days, even many days on some occasions, during which time they would be under the
tapu. To be compelled to live a life apart from others, to be unable to enter a hut that was not tapu, to be unable to touch food with one's hands, and so on, must have been extremely trying, if not exasperating. We hear of men whose heads were so sacred that they could not scratch them, a truly distressing state of affairs when we remember that they would also be too tapu to be washed. Little wonder that the Maori was afflicted by two species of unpleasant parasites. But to proceed—the following extract from an old missionary record illustrates the above remarks:—“Rauroha…had suffered whilst on board from one of their superstitions; he had cut and dressed his brother's hair prior to his coming on board, and therefore dare not go below lest he should be killed by the atua (god). The weather being bad he had been obliged to squat for three nights under the longboat.”
Again, Angas tells us of a tapu man named Nohorua he saw at Porirua. This man had been seated on the ground near his hut, and, when he left the spot, he stuck some twigs or stricks round the precise place he had been seated on, to proclaim its tapu, lest some person should trespass thereon.
Cook tells us of seeing human hair tied to the branches of trees, and it has been found deposited in caves and crevices in rock. Of cource hair was employed as a medium in black magic intended to destroy human life, but if that was the only superstition connected with it any person would naturally destroy his hair when cut.
Ceremonial hair-cutting entered into mouring for the dead. Widows often cut off all their hair; sometimes one long lock, called a reureu, was left at the side of the head. A hair or two was sometimes plucked from the head of a dead person, and a form of words was repeated over it in order to prevent the spirit of the dead returning to molest the living. A small cord made from the hair of a slain enemy, and termed a kota, was occasionally used by a man to confine his own long hair. Hair from the head of a slain enemy was also taken by victors of a fight, and over it was performed a rite to enable the victors to retain their superiority over their enemies.
In olden times hair was used in connection with certain simple ceremonies performed at critical times, as when a person was in danger of losing his life. It was exceedingly useful to those attacked by taniwha, or other ferocious creatures. All that was necessary in such a case was for the threatened person to pluck a hair from his head and cast it towards his assailant, at the same time repeating a spell called a whakaeo. This procedure deprived the creature of all strength to harm him, and so it would retire baffled. In a Taranaki story of a canoe full of fishermen being assailed by sea monsters, the chief man on board pulled hairs from his head, armpit, and the lower part of his abdomen to use in the rite.
In a certain rite performed by travellers ere undertaking a journey, parts of the performance consisted of the kindling of a tapu fire, and the casting of a hair from each man's head into it. In a folk tale of the Bay of Plenty it is told of one Tu-tamure that, when athirst in one of his journeys at Te Wera, he plucked a hair from his leg and cast it on the ground, whereupon a spring of water broke forth at that spot. I have been informed by natives, as a proof of the truth of the above tale, that the aforesaid spring is still flowing. In the story of Hape and Tamarau, the latter, after the death of his father, procured a hair, or lock of his hair, as the aria of his father's soul, that is as a material representation of the same. Hair was also employed as the aria or symbol of a god.
The employment of human saliva in ritual was also practised by the Maori. This has been a very far-spread custom in former times and survivals of such usages are noted among highly-civilised peoples. The best-known of these superstitious practices of the Maori was the employment of saliva as a medium in black magic, a practice known the world over. By obtaining some of the saliva of an enemy a Maori could slay that enemy by means of uttering a certain spell over it.
In olden days the act of spitting seems to have imparted mana to any act or statement; it might be beneficial or harmful. The Archbishop of Abyssinia spits upon his congregation as a blessing. Elsewhere a malignant curse is accompanied by spitting. Maori adepts performed a rite over the saliva of a dead person in order to ascertain what wizard had slain him; this in cases wherein witchcraft was suspected. Previous to
umu, or kerf, in order to prevent his arms becoming weary in using the heavy stone tools. A person who was unfortunate enough to encounter a lizard in his path would kill it, spit on it, cut it into pieces, and then burn the pieces; all this being done in order to avert the evil omen.
Should a Maori, when fighting, chance to strike down a relative, or other person whom he did not wish to slay outright, he would recall the senseless one to this world by means of spitting on his fingers and then rubbing them on the face and body of the stricken one. At the same time he would call him back to this world by repeating these words: “Hoki mai ki te ao nei; mahihi ora ki te whai ao, ki te ao marama; korou ora.” The man performing this act would be under the tapu of the was god at the time, as he would be on active service, hence he would possess the mana necessary to make the act effective. Ceremonial spitting was an old Asiatic and European usage, and entered into many ritual performances.
All these ritual acts, however simple, were accompanied by some form of utterance, however crude, and all these are termed karakia. If a person stumbled when walking, struck his foot against some object, he would ejaculate: “Kuruki whakataha,” and these two words were supposed to avert the unlucky omen. When a fowler wished to placate the god Maru, he would make him an offering of a bird. He would simply cast it aside in the forest, with the words: “E Maru! Ina tau” (O Maru! Here is thine).
Many writers have remarked on the absence or paucity of evidence as to sun worship in Polynesia and New Zealand in former times. It is true that there is but little direct evidence of a former existence of a sun cult in these regions, yet such a cult unquestionably existed. It is owing to the Maori genius for personification that we have not recognised his mode of sun worship. He did not practise a direct worship of the sun, as was done in Peru and other lands, but personified the sun in Tane, and made Tane the most important of his departmental gods; Io alone ranks above him. Tane also occupied an im-
In the honorific name of Tama-nui-te-ra we have always recognised the sun (ra). The Maori himself told us plainly its application. In connection with Tane, however, we had no direct assistance from natives, and the identification was a slow task; early collectors did not grasp the inner meaning of Maori myths. When we reflect that Tane was viewed as the most important of secondary gods, in connection with such diverse subjects as the tapu School of Learning and the felling of a tree, and was appealed to in both, then we have some idea of his widespread activities and influence.
Fornander, of Hawaii, gave many proofs in his work on the Polynesian race that Tane represents the sun, yet he makes in that work the statement that solar worship had faded from the Polynesian mind since the race entered the Pacific. Nor did he recognise the fact that moon and star worship were practised by the Polynesians. He writes: “I have found no trace in Polynesian folk lore that the moon was ever regarded as an object of adoration, nor, though the planetary stars were well known and named, that these latter ever received religious consideration.” Now both Sina (Hina) and Lono (Rongo), the two personified forms of the moon, the moon gods as we would term them, were prominent at the Hawaiian group, and were appealed to widely throughout Polynesia, as in New Zealand. Here again we gain proof from Fornander's own data. Star worship was practised in New Zealand, and I feel confident that it was introduced from Polynesia; a number of star names of the two regions agree. It is highly improbable that the cult originated in New Zealand. The Polynesian belief in the influence of the stars and planets on food products would naturally lead to some form of astrolatry. Many Maori myths are astronomical in origin.
The brief reference to sun worship in New Zealand said to be given in Vol. 2 of Mr. White's “Ancient History of the Maori” appears to me to be doubtful. The matter hinges upon the meaning of the word tui in the phrase “Kei te tui i te ra,” and the rendering of this sentence in the translation is very peculiar, and moreover is open to doubt.
The late Mr. Charles Nelson collected some account of a “sun feast” or hakari, but did not publish it. Mr. Tregear inserted it, or a portion thereof, in his work “The Maori Race.” This sun festival was marked, we are told, by a peculiar arrangement of the tahua, or heaps of food supplies stacked up for the feast. These long heaps were arranged in the form of a heptagon, a fire being kindled at each of the seven interior angles, and a pole bearing a pennant set up at each of the exterior angles. In the middle of the enclosed space was a larger fire, said to represent the sun, and around it stood four larger poles bearing pennants. A human sacrifice, termed whakahere, was burned in this central fire. These pennant bearing poles were called wana and toko, both of which words carry the peculiar double meaning of stake or pole, and ray of the sun. Wana also bears the meaning of a division or heap of food at a hakari (ceremonial feast). With regard to the rites performed at these festivals we have no information. Mr. Nelson was a good Maori scholar, and these brief notes gathered by him I believe to be perfectly genuine; he was on friendly terms with some well-informed old natives.
With regard to moon worship, as we term it, it has already been shown that the female personification of the moon was the patroness of women, presiding over childbirth and the art of weaving. She was appealed to by women, and on behalf of women. In the stage of culture in which the Maori lived the ordinary man knew a budget of charms for every-day use, but when in need of any special ritual he had to apply to a priest, as occurred in cases of sickness. Thus the priest and his endless series of charms, spells, incantations, with perhaps a few invocations, took the place of the private individual and his private prayer as seen in higher culture stages. The Christian priests of the Middle Ages who cast out evil spirits were not much superior to the tohunga of Maoriland.
Rongo, the male personification of the moon, was connected with agriculture, peace, and peace making. He was the sheet anchor of the husbandman.
As to star worship among our Maori folk, certain invocations were repeated in which the principal stars and planets were invoked and asked to send a bountiful food supply. These formulæ were repeated at the first fruits ceremony, when the mata or huamata, first fruits of wild and cultivated products were collected for the ceremony. Forest products were represented by young shoots of trees, etc. The mara tautane, to be described later, was connected with this first fruits function.
The names applied to the stars are employed by the Maori as proper names, that is as personification terms, as seen in a form of ritual given by Tutakangahau of the Tuhoe tribe. It runs as follows:—
Here Whanui, the star Vega, is addressed as an atua (supernatural being) and is requested to send a generous supply of food by causing the first fruits to flourish abundantly. Throughout the invocation the above two lines are repeated, another star name being inserted at each repetition, as Atutahi (Canopus), Tuputuputu (one of the Magellan Clouds), and so on. The expression mata o te tau denotes the first fruits of the season. The Maori is firmly convinced that the stars have an important influence on food supplies.
The word whangai is also employed to denote the making of an offering to a god, and to a peculiar ceremonial function intended to aggrandize the tapu of a person. Many offerings were made by the Maori to his gods, usually consisting of food products, occasionally of blood, hair, etc. One of the most important of such offerings was a human heart; this was offered to the war god by a party of warriors on active service. That heart would be procured from the body of the first enemy slain. The fowler made an offering of a bird to Tane; the fisherman gave a fish to Tangaroa. The sea-farer invoked and placated Tawhirimatea; on completing a voyage, or landing on a strange coast, he made an offering of seaweed to Tangaroa in the rite called makamaka rimu. In many cases
tuahu or sacred place of a village, where they might be placed on the ground, on a stone, or on a small elevated platform called a tiepa. Fowlers and others made their offerings wherever they plied their trades.
A very peculiar feature of some religious functions was the act of releasing a captive bird at a certain juncture of such performance. This singular act took place during the performance of the Tohi rite over an infant, a form of baptism, at the lifting of the tapu from a newly built fortified village, during the initiation of a tohunga matakite (seer), etc. In the Takitumu district the birds utilised in this performance were the whitehead (tatahore—Certhiparus albicapillus), and the miromiro
(Petroeca toitoi), hence a certain amount of tapu pertained to these two species. The present writer is by no means clear as to the precise meaning of the above act, but apparently it was a form of communication with the gods. During the ceremonial removal of tapu from a new village, two birds were so released at a certain stage of the proceedings, when, in the intoned invocation, prosperity for the new home was asked for. In this function two assistant priests were stationed at different parts of the defensive works, each holding a captive bird in his hand. At the repetition of the words “Tihe mauri ora,” the two birds were released, and allowed to fly away. In this case I was told that the releasing of the birds was a symbolic act, that the supplicants craved for the new village such welfare as was represented in the freedom bestowed on the birds.
This interesting performance is another of our Asiatic-Polynesian parallels. In a certain ceremony performed in India in connection with Kali or Durga, an image of that atua is allowed to sink in the waters of the sacred river just as the sun is setting. At the same time a bird, the beautiful Indian jay, is allowed to fly away to Siva to tell him that his beloved Kali is coming back to him. Again, in Babylonia a raven was sometimes released by a magician during the performance of a rite to exorcise demons, as a hint to such demons to depart in a similar manner.
The reliance of the barbaric mind on mediums, symbols, and symbolic acts is a very prominent characteristic of
tohunga of Maoriland appear not only puerile, but also downright absurd to us. For instance, when, in 1820, a severe epidemic sickness, introduced by the ship Coromandel, swept across the island, the native priests of Taranaki acted as follows in order to stay its ravages. They fashioned a small representation of the European vessel, and over it they recited their charms or incantations to induce the gods to cease afflicting them. Quite possibly they believed that the gods of their European visitors were responsible for the distressing visitation. However, we will not condemn the superstitious Maori too deeply, for, if memory serves me, when a heavy shock of earthquake was experienced here at Wellington in the “forties” of last century, a solemn fast was proclaimed by certain authorities!
Among the material mediums employed by the native priests were certain small wooden images carved as to the upper part into the form of a grostesque human figure. These are said to have represented the departmental gods Tane, Tu, Rongo and Tawhirimatea, etc. Mr. tiki and tiki wananga. The word tiki denotes an image in human form. It has been asserted that wananga bears some such meaning as prophet or prophecy, but the definitions of the term, as given in Williams' Dictionary, do not bear this out. It does bear such a meaning in the Hawaiian and Marquesan dialects, however. An east coast native termed the above images atua kiato. They were used as mediums, temporary shrines or abiding places for the gods, during such time as the officiating priest was engaged in invoking the aid of those gods, after which the spirit god abandoned the image, which again became merely a lifeless piece of wood. The average collector alludes to them as “god sticks.” Like the stone images of rude form placed among crops they might be called taumata atua (resting places of the gods). Some of these images have been preserved, and it is interesting to note that the one representing Rongo is two headed. Evidently this represents Rongo-ma-Tane (Rongo and Tane), the twin deities of agriculture.
Mr. White speaks of the atua Kahukura, personified form of the rainbow, as also being represented by one of these whakapakoko, or images. In this case it would appear that
atua of the third class was included in the gods so represented. Mr. White apparently gained his information from a Ngai-Tahu source. The lower part of these peg-like images was not carved to represent part of the figure, but was brought to a point, so that the object could be stuck in the earth in a vertical position. When utilised as shrines during a seance the priest consulter usually erected his image at the tuahu or sacred place of the village. The image sticks were about a cubit in length, and, when not in use, were put carefully away by the priestly custodian, sometimes kept in a wooden box (waka) adorned with carved designs. South Island notes on these images tell us that, when one was to be used, it was taken to the sacred place of the village where certain ritual was recited over it. After this performance there was attached to it a bone of the remains of some man of note, usually a thigh bone or arm bone. Then it was that the atua, the spirit god, came and entered the image, taking temporary possession of it. The carved peg would then be inserted in the earth at the wahi tapu (sacred place) of the village, and the priest would proceed to invoke the aid of the indwelling spirit. In some districts we are told that the operator tied a kind of ruff of red feathers round the neck of the image ere commencing his formulæ.
In some cases, we are told, such images were carried abroad by priestly experts accompanying war parties, bands of fighting men making forays into enemy country. In this usage we recognise the amorangi, or emblem of an atua carried by a priestly expert in the van of such a force, as shown in an old aphorism: “Ko te amorangi ki mua, ko te hapai o ki muri” (the amorangi in the van, the food bearers in the rear.
Evidently the contact with, the bone of the defunct rangatira (chief) would impart mana to the image. That it possessed such mana is assured, for, when a person was seized with illness, the priest would bring his wooden image and lay it upon the body of the sufferer, this in order to cure him.
When engaged in consulting one of these images, or rather its indwelling spirit, it was customary to attach a cord to the image, and this string the officiating priest gave an occasional tug at. This was an act of whakaoho, to “rouse up” the spirit, to call it to attention, and as a hint for it to
atua, in place of the image described above. In using bones of the dead for the purpose of imparting mana to a medium, or rite, or incantation, it was quite necessary to procure the bone of a well-born person. Those of a person of no consequence would not possess any virtue, they could not impart the necessary mana.
In certain cases the Maori introduced into his ritual formulæ genealogical tables, lines of descent, usually the earlier parts thereof pertaining to descent from the gods. These would be held to possess mana. In cases of difficult birth such a recital was supposed to be very effective. The belief that man is descended from the gods was firmly held by the Maori, and that belief assuredly had some very peculiar results. When man believes that he is partially divine anything may happen.
Ceremonial dancing entered into Maori life to a considerable extent, as in connection with war, peace making, reception of visitors, divination, mourning the dead, greeting the new moon and the reappearance of stars, etc. The reappearance of the Pleiades (the heliacal rising thereof) was marked by songs, dancing and cries of welcome. It was not only the sign of the commencement of the year, but also marked the principal festival of the year. Rhythmical movement has a very great attraction for the Maori; he seems to indulge in it on all possible occasions. His posture dancing, for so it must be termed, may be slow, as in some maioha or greeting ceremonies, or energetic, as in haka, or downright fierce, as in the war dance, but always is it performed in remarkable time. The ceremonial carrying of food to a party of visitors illustrates this love of rhythmical movement.
The following account of a rite performed over a person in order to endow him with powers of matakite or secondsight, is inserted as an example of the general aspect of rites performed by high-class priests. This account was given to me in years past by an old native well acquainted with such procedure, and written down precisely as delivered. The function was an initiatory one to enable a person to see spirits of the dead, to enable him to act as the medium of such a spirit, and to reap advantage from such mediumship for the
Suppose a sleeping person dreams that he sees the spirit of his dead father, grandparent, or child; that the defunct person had been of a clever disposition, whose death had been much regretted, then the dreamer might desire that the spirit (wairua) should return to visit him in the future. He would now proceed to interview a tohunga of the tuahu or ahurewa class, not one of an inferior grade. He would request the priest to cause the spirit to revisit him, and to protect and befriend him by means of warning him of approaching dangers, etc. To this request the priest would give a direct reply, either consenting or refusing. Supposing that he consented, he would say to the applicant: “Go forth and capture a bird, either a tataihore or a miromiro, and be careful to take it alive.” Having received instructions as to the disposal of the bird when caught, the applicant would proceed to the forest in search of it. It was necessary that he should capture the bird that day. Having secured it he would convey it to the tuahu (sacred place of rites) of the priest before dawn the next morning, and there leave it confined in a basket or gourd. He would then hie him to the priest who would conduct him to the water and there perform the Pure rite over him. Both persons divested themselves of their garments, and entered the water in a nude condition, the priest preceding the neophyte. The latter then took his stand to the left of the priest. The priest then commenced to intone a formula that had the effect of a purificatory rite; it absolved the neophyte from the hampering and polluting effects of all wrong acts committed by him from childhood, and left him in a condition of purity, and so a fit subject for dealings with the gods. To put it briefly it was a whakahoro i nga raruraru o te tinana, a freeing from moral hindrances of the body.
The priest enquired of the subject: “Are you of evil or good character?” ( Name of the dead person inserted here, he whose soul is the desired spiritual force. He whiro ranei koe, he ahurangi ranei). The subject would probably reply: “This man of thine is of good character.” The priest would be a seer, and, should the man conceal misdeameanours, such as theft or indulgence in black magic, then the priest would be angered, and dismiss him at once. Supposing that he knew the subject had slain
ahurangi, then the priest extended his left hand and grasped the right hand of the subject, and his right hand to grasp the other's left hand. Standing in this position the priest intoned the following invocation to the Supreme Being that he might endow the applicant with the necessary spiritual powers of mediumship:—
Ata-a-rangi=human soul.
At the conclusion of this recital the priest instructed the applicant to immerse his entire body in the water, he still holding his hands. As the body of the man emerged from the stream, the priest placed his left hand on his head, and, with his right hand, took up a little water, and sprinkled it on the subject, as he repeated the words: “Tapihai nuku, tapihai rangi ki a koe, e Io-matua..e! no tenei tama.” The priest then said: “Now leave the water, and be careful not to wipe the water from your body or head.” The next act of the priest was to immerse his own body seven times in the waters of the stream, after which he rejoined the neophyte and both proceeded to the tuahu. There the priest gained possession of the imprisoned bird, and told his companion to place his mouth close to the head of the bird and whakaha it three times (this act has already been explained). The neophyte was then told to enter a house, taking the bird with him; then the priest closed the door and the bird was released inside the
tuahu. When the broad light of day appeared the confined man opened the door of the hut, thus releasing the bird and allowing it to fly away; he then rejoined the priest. The latter would ask him if the bird had flown away, and he would reply that it had, whereupon the priest would command him to kneel down before him. The priest then placed his hands on the head of the man and repeated another karakia or formula over him. This was the final act that endowed the new seer with the desired faculties, the power to see spirits and the manifestations and warnings of the gods, true spiritual sight.
Such is our illustration of Maori ritual performances of the superior type; those performed by shamanistic gentry of the tohunga kehua class were of a grosser character, as appropriate to charlatanry. The important ritual connected with the human soul was directed to the Supreme Being, not to secondary gods, for Io is the kaipaihere, the unifier and cynosure of all human souls.
The above account is one of much interest, inasmuch as it illustrates a peculiar feature in Maori religion, namely that religion was beginning to concern itself with morality, or that morality was forcing itself upon religion. Thus, in these dealings with Io, the Supreme One, it was necessary that the supplicant should be in a condition of purity, and not of ceremonial purity only, but also of moral purity. Hence the ceremonial removal of all moral impurity ere the commencement of the function. Herein we observe a very interesting phase in the development of religion, and the examination of detailed evidence concerning such evolutionary steps is what makes the study of Maori ethnography so interesting a subject.
The above formula may be cited as being an example of a true invocation to Io, it is above the level of the ordinary karakia. The Supreme Being is asked directly to endow the subject with certain spiritual vision and powers; this is a considerable advance on ritual formulæ wherein no reference is made to the matter under consideration. Of this latter nature are the great majority of these effusions. The Handbook of Folk Lore does not appear to provide any term that describes the peculiar features of the ordinary karakia maori, or native ritual formula. Prayer, spell and charm are all ruled out by
The rite termed Pure is one that is often mentioned. In some cases it has the effect of removing tapu, but in other cases it imposes tapu on the subject. In the Tahitian dialect pure is said to mean “to pray,” probably the repetition of incantations is meant, not true prayer.
Examples of Maori rites might be given in profusion, but we shall be compelled to scan a number of them when dealing with the subjects or war, fishing, agriculture, etc., hence let these remarks suffice here.
Let it be clearly understood that the Maori never erected anything in the form of a temple. He made no attempt to add impressiveness to his ritual performances by means of any artificial erection, indeed he was strongly prejudiced against performing rites elsewhere than out in the open. So far as we are aware the tapu houses in which tribal lore was taught were tha only buildings in which important rites were ever performed. The Maori preferred to carry out such functions in the open, not under a roof, and away from all artificial structures. This is the frame of mind in which Semitic folk of old viewed the tapu of religious ceremonies and formulæ. Thus we are told that, in the time of
Inasmuch as the tuahu, or tapu places whereat rites were performed by the native priests, were of such a simple or primitive, form, it follows that there might well be a difficulty in recognising such places when seen. They were, in some cases, apparently not marked by anything, being merely a small open space in brush, bush, bracken or flax grove. Some were marked by one or more unworked stones, or a small wooden post. Occasionally a small, rough wooden platform. elevated on stakes, termed a tiepa, was erected, on which offerings were placed. Evidently this word is equivalent to whakaepa, “to conciliate,” ti being employed as a causative prefix. Ahu denotes a heap or mound, a somewhat frequent
Pouahu seems to be a variant form of tuahu.
In his work on the South Island natives Canon Stack informs us that the tuahu of those tribes were small fenced enclosures about 12 feet by 6 feet in area, having a rude wooden image in the centre. We are not told what or who such image represented. Only priests could enter these tapu places. Should any unauthorised person trespass thereon he would pollute the tapu thereof, and would be severely punished by the gods. In diagnosing the illness of a patient a priest would sometimes assert that it had been caused by trespassing on a tuahu, or a spot where a sacred fire had been kindled. The Rev. whata or elevated platforms for depositing offerings on that were used among the tribe of Ngati-Ruanui of the Taranaki district. These were well constructed erections, adorned with carved designs, and the three stages are said to have been styled the Paiahua, the Whitipana, and the Pou-whakaturia. The pouwhiro, or chief priest, in a nude state, performed rites before these stages. Outside the enclosure in which these were situated, the tauira or neophytes and lesser priests were gathered; outside of these were the people. If this arrangement obtained among the Ruanui folk, then it was an unusual proceeding; alsewhere the tuahu was evidently marked by extreme simplicity.
These tuahu were generally situated at some secluded spot, though not far from the village home, and sometimes within the limits of the hamlet. Occasionally it was situated near the turuma, or village latrine, because in such a place it would not be likely to be trespassed on. In rugged regions, such as the Whanganui valley, they were sometimes located on steep bluffs, where trespass was improbable. These tapu places often had special names assigned them, as Te Makaka, a famous one at Whakatane, and Ahurei, situated at a place
takuahi or small pit fireplace was made at the tuahu, wherein ceremonical fires were kindled. These small fire pits were lined with four stones, the pit being rectangular in form. In the Bay of Plenty district a reddish stone called poutama was sought for this purpose. Each of the four stones of these firepits had its special name; these were in general use and so widely known. One such preserved by the Tamarau family of Ruatoki is named Tokaroa. The word takuahi was also applied to a sacerdotal fire kindler, a person employed by priests to attend them and perform such services as providing fuel for sacred fires. All tuahu, as extremely tapu places, are under the guardianship of three famous poutiriao, or guardians, viz., Tane, Rongo and Tupai.
It is a peculiar and interesting fact that the Maori has never constructed in New Zealand the marae or stone pyramids of his former home in eastern Polynesia. We might think that those erections are of comparatively modern date, erected since the ancestors of the Maori left those parts, but the late Colonel Gudgeon has recorded the fact that some knowledge of them has been preserved by the Maori. An old native informed him that those marae or stepped, truncated pyramids, were places where religious rites were performed. The different platforms were occupied by various ranks of the priesthood. If the Maori constructed, at great expense of labour, the great stone pyramids of Tahiti, why and how did he acquire in New Zealand such a strong distate for anything like an elaborate altar? The word marae here denotes a plaza, an open space in a village, what may be termed the village square, which is a common meeting ground for the people, and where public functions are conducted. The word marae is also employed with some such meaning as “expanse” hence we have such expressions as marae nui and marae roa applied to the ocean. In the word paepae we note the same double meaning as in marae. The steps or platforms of the Tahitian pyramids were called pae. A paepae at the Marquesas is a stone platform. At Nukuoro pae is an altar, but at Rarotonga paepae is a courtyard.
It appears that the Maori had several kinds of tuahu, each known by a different name, though we have no clear
ahupuke, ahurangi, ahurewa, kauhanganui, rua torino, tapatai, etc. Williams gives ahupuke as a spot at a tuahu where magic rites were performed. Tarakawa tells us that the ahurewa and ahurangi are desirable forms, and bring
salvation to man. Among the Takitumu folk the ahurewa was situated inside the tapu house of a commune, the school of learning. It was marked by a stone set up at the base of the rearmost post supporting the ridgepole. Among the Tuhoe folk the ahurewa seems to have been situated out of doors. Tutaka informed me that it was marked merely by a stick in
hau of man was buried at the ahurewa, that is a lock of hair from the head of a leading man of the community was buried at the ahurewa as representing the hau or vitality of the people. This was in order to protect the people from the effects of magic arts. The hau of land was protected in a similar manner.
The rua torino was a small pit employed in magic rites; it symbolised the pit of destruction and death. The soul of the victim is brought within the pit and there destroyed. An Arawa correspondent states that the rua torino was made at the ahupuke. All such practices differed, as among different tribes. The tuahu tapatai is described by te pou tapu—the sacred post.
It would appear that a priest could use almost any spot as a tuahu, whereat to perform a religious function, or simply to recite an incantation. He often chose to have some material object to mark the spot, if only a rough stone or wooden peg. Tipihau of Tuhoe once told me that a priest could set up his toko at any place as a tuahu. The toko were two wands, or rods, or pegs used as symbols of life and death, welfare and misfortune; they were also known as tira. Both toko and tira bear the double meaning of pole and ray, as of light and the sun. It would not be surprising to learn that this toko rite was a survival of sun worship. The toko ora representing life, welfare, prosperity, was allowed to stand, but the toko mate, or tira mate, was cast down after the performance was over, as symbolising the victory of good over evil, of life over death.
The term wahi tapu, prohibited place, was often employed to denote the tuahu of a village, but then it is a term that might be applied to many places, a latrine for example. The principal places at which rites were performed were the tuahu, the wai tapu (tapu waters), the turuma (latrine), and the ahurewa, if the hamlet possessed one.
With regard to survival of phallic symbolism, etc., in Maori myths and usages, serveral interesting notes concerning native beliefs and practices of former times must be mentioned. Any person studying Maori life and customs as they were in pre-European days, must be struck with the evidence en-
It is evident that barbaric man was much impressed by the mystery and powers of sex, that he extended it to things that we know to be sexless, and that he endowed certain natural phenomena with strange powers of fructification. This ignorance of natural laws, combined with superstition, and the mythopoetical mind, all assisted in the evolution of singular myths, such as are so prominent in the phallic cult.
Any system of direct worship of the phallus as practised by the Polnesian race must presumably have been abandoned long ago, if it ever existed. The beliefs and acts that formed a feature of Maori life were possibly survivals. Perhaps the two most interesting features of such survivals are the myth concerning the phallic eel, and the faith displayed by the Maori in the protective power of the phallus. Ceremonial copulation was another extraordinary usage in New Zealand, as also, apparently, in Polynesia, according to Cook's evidence.
We have seen that Tane represents the male element and procreative power. In Tiki we have the personified form of the phallus, of which fact there is ample proof. The grotesque neck pendant called tiki, usually made of nephrite, and which was properly worn only by women, is a fructifying symbol. It bears the sacerdotal name of the linga and of its personified form. This pendant was made, wholly or partially, in the form of the human embryo, and its innate powers in the way of causing conception was the reason why it was worn by women. The first one ever made was fashioned for Hina-te-iwaiwa by her father. One of these greenstone pendants seen possesses a linga of disproportionate size.
The Maori belief in the protective power of the phallus as also the destructive power of the yoni, is a curious study. A sacerdotal term for the organs of generation is tawhito, a word that, in various dialects, means “source, origin.” This word is used when speaking of the inherent powers of the organs. It is, we are told, the tawhito of Hine-nui-te-po that destroys man, yet, in some cases, it has a beneficial effect, as
kai ure rite was a very singular performance practised by the Maori. It was a much-favoured method of warding off the effects of black magic. When a man had reason to suspect that a person was endeavouring to bewitch him, he would retire to a secluded spot, grasp the organ of salvation, and recite the kai ure incantation. These spells are of varying lengths; one before me is very brief, consisting of but two lines. It reads: “Kai ure! Let the evil be averted, and let my organ be the object of your endeavours to destroy.” This ceremony can be so conducted as to cause the magician's magic shaft to recoil upon and kill him. As old Tutaka, a grey old warrior, once informed me: The male organ is destructive, for it can save man from death.
We will suppose that a fight is toward, when a discovery is made that a famed warrior is afflicted by hauhauaitu, or listlessness, nervous depression, caused by some interference with tapu. This unpleasant condition can be abolished by the subject crawling between the legs of the first born male or female of the high chief's family. I have been told of cases in which the sufferer simply lay down and the selected woman stepped over his body. This act would restore the sufferer to his ordinary condition of welfare. As to the other side of the question, the destructive power of the female organ, we see in this an Indian belief. In that land Sakti seems to be the destructive energy of the female sex. The dual aspect of female attributes, creative and destructive, as noted in Maori belief, is equalled by those of Siva the Destroyer of India, who represents the fructifying principle, the generating power of Nature.
The peculiar rite known as ngau paepae (beam biting) to the Maori, may or may not have had a phallic origin; it is a very puzzling usage. Why should a sick person go through the motion of biting the beam of a latrine during the recital of incantations intended to relieve him? The wise old man Tutaka, already referred to, told me that the space in front of the paepae, or horizontal “squatting” beam, represents life, health and welfare, while the space behind it, termed the kouka, represents death. The present writer has dwelt for many years in the lone places of the land, ever striving to
mana, and benefits the biter. This idea may be connected in some way with the ngau paepae act.
One of the most interesting notes gamed by the writer from the Tuhoe hill tribe was that concerning the phallic tree known as Te Iho o Kataka. This tree is a hinau (Elœocarpus dentatus) standing on a bush-covered ridge at Ohaua-te-rangi, in the Rua-tahuna district. The fructifying powers of this tree have been known for some twenty generations, and originated as follows:—An ancestor named Irakewa, an immigrant from the isles of the Pacific, deposited on this tree the iho (severed umbilical cord) of an infant child named Kataka. Tane-atua, the father of the child, visited the tree in after years, and was about to pluck some berries therefrom, when he heard a voice say: “Do not suffer me to be eaten, for I am the iho of Kataka.” Tane treated the tree with respect after this, and placed on it the iho of another of his children, saying, as he did so: “I am here placed to cause children to be conceived.” Ever since has that tree been known as “The Iho of Kataka,” and, down through the changing centuries, childless women have resorted to it in order that they might become fruitful. Such a woman would be escorted to the tree by her husband and an expert, who would recite the necessary charm while she clasped the trunk of the tree in her arms. The east side of the tree is the male side, the west side is the female one, and the woman would make her choice as to which sex she preferred; if a male she would clasp the male side of the tree. My worthy old friend
In “The Sacred Tree,” by Mrs. Philpot, we are informed that, in parts of Asia, certain trees are looked upon as material representation or agents of the mysterious feminine reproductive power; also that: “The sacred cedar of Gilgit, on the north-west frontier of India, was held to have the power of causing women to bear children.”
In the Kawhia district is a stone, or boulder, near the Awaroa creek, that possesses, or did possess, such powers as those of the Iho o Kataka. It is known by the name of Uenuku-tuwhatu, and in former times was resorted to by childless women of that region.
In collections of Maori antiquities one occasionally sees old specimens of the native flute known as koauau that have been carefully fashioned so as to closely resemble the phallus. It is quite possible that these objects represent old-time beliefs and practices in some way, though we have gained no explanation of them. The late Mr.
It might be thought that the spiritual conceptions of the barbaric Maori would be but an uninteresting study, and probably marked by extreme crudeness, or at least by evidence of the lack of introspective thought. It is true that some haziness is detected in one direction, namely, the final abode of the soul of man, and its passage to that abode. With regard to this point, however, our own beliefs or views are but little further advanced, possibly owing to the fact that the teachings we have absorbed for many centuries past do not make any strong appeal to the person of average mentality. Public opinion is slowly but surely destroying the abominable myth of the burning lake.
If the student of Maori life finds any difficulty in defining the various qualities pertaining to man, he is scarcely in a worse position than he who would explain our terms soul and spirit. Taking the definitions given by our latest and most
The native concept of the spiritual nature of man would be much easier to understand were it not for the intrusion of tapu, and the belief in the divine origin of man, divine origin on one side of the house, the male side. On the female side man is earth bound, and of earthly origin, save and except the fact that the wairua and manawa ora (soul and breath of life) that vivified the Earth Formed Maid, the first woman, were procured from Io, the Supreme Being. The plain physical life principle is a comparatively simple conception, but when it is spoken of as being a sacred quality, to pollute which is highly dangerous to human life, and, moreover, the same name is applied to a material object, a mere stone—then little wonder that the European mind becomes confused. Further confusion is caused in our minds by the native terms denoting both material representations of immaterial qualities and immaterial representations of material objects. We shall even see that the barbaric Maori dealt with immaterial representations, immaterial forces, etc. Of a verity confusion may well assail the student. Yet certain writers have told us that the Maori was not capable of abstract thought. The present writer collected for many years data pertaining to the various terms discussed below, and gives the result briefly.
In the term wairua (soul) we have the Maori term for what anthropologists style the soul, that is the spirit that quits the body at death, and proceeds to the spirit world, or hovers about its former home here on earth. The word wairua denotes a shadow, any unsubstantial image; occasionally it is applied to a reflection, thus it was adopted as a name for the animating spirit of man. The spirits or souls of the dead were believed to return to, or remain in this world in the form of butterflies and moths, at least in some cases, hence butterflies are sometimes termed wairua or wairua atua. I have heard them described as “he wairua no te kehua” or spirits of ghosts, which is a double abstraction. We have in Maori another expression similar to wairua, and that is ata, of which ata-a-rangi is an
Ata: Form, shape, semblance, reflected image. Whakaata: Reflection. Ataata: Shadow. Among east coast tribes both ata and ata-a-rangi bear the double meaning of shadow and spirit, i.e., the wairua. Ata is also applied to reflection, a reflected image. The Samoan meanings of ata support this, for among them are “shadow, spirit, reflected image,” and “the representative of a god.” The Maori, however, seldom uses this word as denoting the soul or spirit of man, wairua being the word in general use. At Futuna Isle, New Hebrides group, ata means a ghost. Its general meaning throughout Polynesia is “shadow.” At Taumako isle ata denotes the soul.
The wairua is not located in any organ of the body, it is when we consider the terms denoting mental qualities that we note references to bodily organs. The wairua seems to bear two aspects; it is supposed to be an immortal quality that survives the body at death, and yet we are also told that certain magic arts were employed in order to destroy the wairua of enemies, and so cause the death of their physical bases. The wairua can leave the sheltering body during life; it does so when a person dreams of seeing distant places or people; it is the astral body and the immortal soul, certainly a spiritual life principle.
The Handbook of Folk Lore restricts the term “soul” to “the separable personality of the living man or other being,” and that of “spirit” to “a soul-like being which has never been associated with a human or animal body,” while ‘ghost” is applied to the soul after the death of its physical basis, the body. But when the soul, or ghost, of a defunct forebear is attached to, and appealed to by, a mediumistic descendant, it must be styled “a familiar.” I fear me that most of us will forget to employ these terms in their proper places.
The word ora, employed by the natives of Tikopia, a Polynesian community in the Melanesian area, to denote a spirit and ghost, is our Maori word ora, meaning life, alive, welfare, safe. The Samoan angaanga, a spirit, denotes “head” and “skull” in Maori.
The wairua is held to be a sentient spirit; it leaves the body during sleep, and warns its physical basis of impending
wairua, even what we term inanimate objects, as trees and stones. The same thing has been recorded concerning the natives of Polynesia.
Colenso held the belief that kehua denoted a different quality to the wairua, but kehua is simply the name applied to wairua that roam about as ghosts or spectres. The Maori tells us that all wairua, of man, of animals, of trees, stones, etc., emanate from Io the Supreme Being. The wairua of a child is implanted in the embryo when the eyes assume form; it appears in an early stage of the development of the fœtus, as seen in the birth ritual:—
These lines refer to the assembling of the clots, the assumption of form by the eyes of the fœtus, and the acquirement of Rua-i-te-pukenga, etc. At this stage of development it was that the embryo acquired a soul, as also the rudimentary powers of thought, etc. The various Rua names represent personified forms of knowledge and thought.
We have said that the wairua of man goes to the spirit world at the death of the body. Can it return to this world after once leaving it? We are told that those who go to the spirit world never return here, but this is meant in the sense of returning hither as living human beings, for we are also told that they return hither to protect their descendants, to guide the souls of dying relatives to spirit land, etc. Beliefs respecting these activities are contradictory. Natives tell us that kehua (ghosts) are seen here, and they certainly are much feared, but when you ask them to explain the reason why those ghosts are not sojourning in the spirit world, why each man seems to give a theory of his own. Natives also tell us that wairua (spirits) are roaming about in space, and in forests, and on mountains, and so on. These beings can only be seen by matakite, or seers; some assert that they are wairua tangata, human souls, spirits of the dead, but do not explain why those spirits are not dwelling peacefully in spirit
Watea (space) are termed turehu by some, the name by which forest elves and mythical bush dwelling folk are known. They are also termed parangeki. Companies of spirits seen moving through space are called tira māka by the Awa tribe of the Bay of Plenty.
At the Chatham Islands women repeated certain formulæ over a newly-born infant in order to enable it to absorb the breath of life, and that its wairua might be stabilised and vigorous.
The word wairua is often employed by natives in curious ways. Some time back I received a letter from an old bush native who, in the “sixties,” fought against us at Orakau and elsewhere. In after years we became good friends, and for eight years he lived with me in various bush camps, the result being many pages added to this recital of Maori lore. In that letter occurred the following sentence: “E kore nei taua e kite a kanohi, ko te wairua anake e kite ana, me te aroha hoki” (We no longer see each other with our eyes, but only with our wairua and also with our affection).
The wairua of defunct parents or ancestors were supposed to possess remarkable protective powers. When the Maori wished to institute a protective talisman (mauri) to preserve himself, his clan, or food products from harm, he would by means of certain ritual, locate or establish the wairua, or power of the wairua of an ancestor, in the material object utilised as a talisman. In cases of black magic we are told that it is the wairua of man that is affected by the deadly spell.
In native belief ghosts do not seem to move abroad during the day, but only at night. One entertaining aboriginal told me that all wairua are active as dusk and dim dawn; daylight is too glaring for them, and they cannot see in the darkness of night. My own observation tells me that natives have a strong dread of ghosts throughout the night when moving abroad. Such movements by natives at night were, however, rare.
Magic rites and ritual formulæ were employed in order to destroy the wairua of enemies, and others were used with less deadly intent, merely to so affect their wairua as to weaken their resolution and courage.
When a tohunga set about discovering the person who had bewitched a sick person, he would take his patient at eve, or dawn, to the local wai tapu, or sacred stream. There he would, by means of incantations, cause the wairua of the magician to appear, when he would give the name of the warlock. Such an apparition would be seen by him, being a seer, either hovering about or standing by the side of the patient. A similar ceremony was performed in order to detect a thief.
When a Maori came to his last moments, when in extremis, and his wairua was about to leave its physical basis, then a formula known as tuku wairua (soul despatching) was repeated over him. This was to send his soul to the spirit world, and to prevent in remaining in this world to annoy his surviving relatives. In some cases, when near his end, a man would say to his friends: “Tukua au” (Despatch me). In some districts this recital is termed wehe, from wehe, “to separate, to detach.” The same word is employed to describe a rite performed over a person in order to obliterate affection for a member of the opposite sex; miri aroha describes the same thing. In some cases a portion of hair was taken from the dying man's head, and burned when the formula was repeated.
Ghosts (kehua) were, and are, much dreaded. They are sometimes termed whakahaehae, a word meaning fearsome, terrifying. Kikokiko is a name applied to peculiarly malevolent ghosts that afflict the living, causing grievous illness, and often death. In the South Island, according to the Rev. Wohlers, these demon spirits are known as rikoriko and ngingongingo. A native superstition is that the appearance of the small bird moriorio (whitehead—Certhiparus albicapillus) heralds the coming of kehua.
The most interesting part of the Maori concept of the wairua of man is that concerning its refinement after the death of the body. The belief was that the soul that leaves the body at death later becomes refined, sloughing off its grosser qualities, when there remains the awe or purified spirit, an ethereal but sentient spirit, invisible to human eyes. This concept appears to have come about in this way: The superior minds among the Maori folk of former times saw that the
awe is one employed to denote extreme lightness, tenuity, in vernacular speech. At the same time the bulk of the people seem to have retained their belief in the material aspect of spirit life, such as has been described in the myth of Mataora.
In the term mauri, or life principle, we have to deal with a quality of a different nature. The wairua has been shown to be a sentient spirit that not only left the body at death, but also during the dreaming hours of its physical basis. The mauri, however, is a life principle that cannot so leave the living body; death alone frees it, or rather it ceases to exist at the death of the body. The mauri has been styled the soul by some writers, but this term is assuredly a misleading one, for it implies that the mauri survives the death of the body. Such would be a natural conclusion for the reader to arrive at. There is no evidence to show that the Maori believed in the survival of this quality.
The mauri may be defined as the physical life principle. The Greek term thymos meets the case better than any English expression I wot of, for the Maori viewed the mauri as an activity. It is to some extent the source of emotions, for, in cases of sudden fright, etc., the mauri is “startled,” as a native puts it, ka oho te mauri. Such emotions as love, hate, anger, etc., are not credited to the mauri, but to the ngakau, puku and manawa, material organs of which more anon.
One of the difficulties of understanding this concept lies in the fact that it bears three aspects. The mauri is an activity within us, an active physical life principle, but, under the name of mauri ora, it is viewed as a tapu or sacred life principle. If this mauri ora becomes polluted in any way, then the consequences are most serious to the person. An examination of the third aspect will enable us to see the meaning of this idea somewhat better. That third aspect is the material mauri. This may be termed a talisman, a material object that represents the protecting power of the gods; in a sense it may be termed a shrine or medium of the gods. Such material mediums are often alluded to as taumata atua, resting places or abiding places of the gods. When
mauri, a material mauri. Some object, in most cases a stone, was procured, and, by means of a certain rite, the mana of a god or gods was implanted in that stone. As the Maori puts it, the atua (gods)
were located in the stone. The stone was then concealed somewhere about the place or object to be protected. The belief was that the material mauri possessed the power of protecting the immaterial mauri, or life principle, of man, land, forests, birds, fish, etc., from all harm. The actual symbol, the stone, is spoken of as the protecting power, but that power was really represented by what our Maori terms the indwelling atua.
It is shown in the above relation that the mauri or life principle is not confined to man, nor yet to the animal kingdom. Everything animate and inanimate possesses this life principle; without it nought could flourish. Nor is this potential quality confined to material objects; not only does the unstable ocean and fleecy mist wraith possess a mauri, but also wind, winter, summer, night and day, etc., are endowed with this life principle. The life principle of natural phenomena sounds like a new departure, but is really a very ancient concept. Now if the material mauri, the stone emblem, becomes polluted or vitiated in any way, or weakened, as by magic arts, then the person, people, or land, or whatever is under its guardianship, is in serious danger. The mauri has lost its virtue, its mana has departed, hence the protected ones lie open to all the innumerable evil influences that are ever present, ever hovering about and threatening the welfare of all things. We now see that the gods whose powers are represented by the material mauri protect the immaterial mauri or life principle of man, or of anything else that has been so placed under their care.
Some time ago, I observed natives erecting a weir for the purpose of taking the lamprey during its upstream migration. Meeting one of these natives in town later on I enquired as to the success of the trapping operations. I was informed that a very poor catch had been made, and that this ill luck was owing to the abandonment of ancient customs, no mauri had been located at the pa (weir), as was formerly the case. Illustrations of this curious usage of talismanic symbols appear in other parts of this recital.
The mauri ora, or tapu aspect of the life principle, is an interesting conception, and essentially a Maori one. When the Maori accepted Christianity and discarded the institution of tapu, then it was that his mauri became vitiated, his old-time gods deserted him, and so welfare, physical and otherwise, abandoned him. His numbers rapidly decreased, his women became infertile to a serious extent, his old-time vigour and mana deserted him. All these grievous changes, say my old native friends, were brought about by the contamination of the mauri ora of man, which had become common, void of tapu, polluted.
When the ancestors of the Maori came to New Zealand they brought with them certain material mauri and whatu, sacred stones, and, by means of certain rites, introduced their gods into these isles, and also performed the tamoe rite to weaken the powers of any aboriginal or local gods of these lands. Certain ceremonies were performed over infants in order to protect their mauri.
The material mauri that pertained to birds of the forest, that caused them to be numerous each year, was an important institution to inland tribes, while that of sea fish was as important to coast dwellers. The river mauri was equally useful to eel fishers.
At Tahiti and Mauke islands mauri means a ghost; at Rotuma “to live”; at Taumako “life, to live”; at Horne Island “life.” At Samoa it seems to carry about the same meaning as in New Zealand. The word is known far into Melanesia, and in New Guinea.
The word hau is another term that puzzles the student of Maori institutions, and one for which there is apparently no English equivalent. As with the mauri we find that there are several aspects of the hau, that the term is applied to material objects, and also to a quality. The hau of a person seems to be his vital personality, or vital principle, or vital mana, certainly it represents his vital welfare. It is not located in any one organ of the body, but pervades the whole body. If a man's hau be taken, as by means of magic arts, then the magician can slay the person himself. To effect this the warlock will obtain something connected with the person he desires to bewitch, as a hair from his head, some of his spittle, or a shred from his garment. This was used as a medium in sympathetic magic, and is called an ohonga. Unfortunately this material object is often termed hau by natives, which is very confusing to our simple minds; the immaterial hau is represented by the material hau. It has just been seen that the same difficulty exists in the case of the mauri. The name of hau is also applied to food ceremonially partaken of in certain religious performances, to some object pertaining to a slain person as a lock of his hair, taken by the victor in order that a certain rite might be performed over it; this particular hau was also known as a mawe. The
hau was also applied to branchlets of Coprosma used in certain divinatory rites; all this in addition to the various meanings of the word in vernacular speech, of which there are about eighteen. Can the puzzled condition of European enquirers be wondered at?
In accordance with the above-mentioned double application of the term to material medium and immaterial objective, we find that hau is employed by the Maori in place of the terms ohonga, mawe and ahua. All these three terms denote something representative of a quality, condition, or object, etc., a material or immaterial semblance. The material mauri of a forest that protects its productiveness, etc., is sometimes called a hau, and the welfare, the fruitfulness of forest and land is known by the same name.
The hau of man, then, is a vital essence that pervades but cannot wholly leave his body; an essential and vivifying ichor that must be protected, as his mauri was protected, and in the same manner. Both hau and mauri seem to be used in an anagogic sense. The hau of a forest, of land, etc., is about equivalent to the mauri or mauri ora of man. As an illustration of the nature of the hau of man let us suppose that I have an enemy whom I wish to destroy. Should I chance to see him rise from a sitting position, I can take his hau by means of a very simple act. I draw my open hand across the seat he has vacated, and so scoop up his aura-like hau, some portion of it adhering to the place he has sat upon. A certain rite of black magic performed over that immaterial medium will result in the death of my enemy. Or should I chance to come upon his footsteps on a path, I can take the manea of his footprint and use it in the same way. Manea is a term employed to denote the hau of the human footprint, and is also applied to material mauri, a talisman such as we have described.
Hauora is a word denoting vital welfare, physical and intellectual vigour. Any person who has transgressed a rule of tapu, that is who has offended the gods, cannot be in a hauora condition, hence we might say that spiritual welfare enters into the definition. The word toiora is used with a similar double sense, and the sacerdotal expression kauruora has apparently an allied meaning.
It should be explained that land or a forest can be injured by magic spells, and so lose all productiveness, just as human life can be destroyed by similar means. This is why the hau of land is protected by means of a material mauri, just as the hau and immaterial mauri of man are protected.
Among the Matatua tribes the ceremonial sacred fire known as the ahi taitai was viewed as the hau or mauri of the village home, because the rites performed at it protected the vitality, welfare, etc., of the people. They preserved the life principle of the people, of land, of birds, fish and trees, etc. In one of these rites the officiating priest generated the tapu fire and roasted a bird thereat, usually a rearea (bell bird). The priest would eat a portion of the cooked bird: the balance of it he would suspend over the fire for a while, then take it down and bury it as an ika purapura, which seems to be the same thing as a material mauri, or something near it. It represented the hau of the people, of their home, lands, etc., and its powers were protective. The ahua (semblance) of man is absorbed by the ika purapura. One version has it that this semblance of land was obtained as a stone, or tree branchlet, or some leaves, and, together with the semblance of man, would be deposited at a secret place as a talisman to preserve vitality, etc., in man and land. After a time they might be buried as an ika purapura, to preserve the seed of life to man and land. When building an important house a human sacrifice was, in some cases, made in the Matatua district. The body was buried at the base of the central post of the house, and was called a whatu, a word that carries the meaning of core and kernel, among others. Tutaka informed me that, in after days, the bones of that whatu might be disinterred and taken to the tuahu to serve as a protective talisman.
At Tahiti the material hau or ohonga seems to be known as tupu, and this is possibly connected with the tuputupu of the Whanganui district, which is applied to the natural objects possessing supernormal powers termed uruuru whenua on the eastern coast. The term hau has in Maori many meanings, one of which is “famous,” and it has been stated that the term as applied to man means “prestige, fame, renown,” much the same defintion as that assigned to the word mana.
hau that has been described above, the hau of land and forest, or the material hau we have discussed. In this connection we see that the heart of the first enemy slain in a fight is used as an offering to the gods, and the act is called whangai hau, the hau is whangaia, fed or offered to the gods, and the sacred personality of the gods is honoured by such offering. The heart or hair of the victim so utilised is styled the hau, and here the hau seems to be equivalent to the mawe or ahua of a parekura (fight or scene of a fight), as previously described.
The word manawa denotes the heart, the material organ, but also means “breath,” and occasionally the stomach or bowels. It is also used as we employ the term heart occasionally, viz., as meaning staying power or support, also as denoting energy or vivacity. The word enters into many compound forms, as manawa-nui, stout-hearted, patient; manawa-pa, grudging; manawa-reka, gratified, etc. The heart is viewed as a seat of emotion, as seen in such expressions as manawa-wera, excited, angry.
The most interesting form of these terms is that of manawa ora, which is about equivalent to our “breath of life.” Here we lose the idea of the material heart and have the “breath” meaning. It will be remembered that when Tane and his brethren wished to vivify the lifeless earthen image fashioned at Kurawaka, the Mons Veneris of the Earth Mother, he obtained from Io the wairua (soul) and manawa ora (breath of life) that endowed that image with life and volition.
The tohunga maori possessed charms by which he professed to restore the breath of life to a person apparently dying. A similar charm was sometimes repeated over a newly-born infant.
The terms psyche and anima both originally carried the meaning of “breath,” but both came to mean the soul, the infinite in man. The Maori did not follow this line of reasoning, but adopted two words meaning shadow and reflection as terms to denote the soul.
The terms ahua and riā have already been encountered, and so we have some idea of how they were employed.
Ahua means “form, appearance, character, etc.” It is also used in the sense of “semblance.” In connection with ritual performances the word frequently occurs. One may take the ahua of land or forest in the form of a stone or branchlet. Such ahua may be material or immaterial, the word is applied to a material object representing something material or immaterial, and also to an immaterial semblance of either. The meanings of such a term seem much involved until one has fathomed them, and that may occupy much time. I prefer not to say how many years I sought to grasp the signification of the terms mauri and hau.
A man who has had property stolen will take the ahua of that property to the priest to be used as a medium in a rite performed in order to discover the thief. Such ahua would consist, in most cases, of a sample of the stolen goods. I have known a man to whom a present had been made, simply take the ahua of it and return the gift to the donor. The action was simply one of touching the object. In some cases ahua might be rendered as “personality.” I have myself been frequently greeted as “te ahua o nga tangata o mua”—the ahua of the men of yore—on account of my ceaseless endeavours to acquaint myself with their doings. The ahua of the members of a village community was protected by such a talisman as the ika purapura or manea described above, and in some cases by a sort of talismanic luck post called whata puaroa, that was set up at the sacred place of a village. This ahua resembles the immaterial hau. Again, it was the ahua of food offerings that was consumed by the gods, not the food itself.
The word ăriā is employed to denote the material form of an atua; its form of incarnation, as a lizard or bird; the form in which it is seen by mortal eyes. It also seems to be used with a similar meaning to that of ahua, as the semblance, likeness, resemblance of an object or condition. It also means “to be seen indistinctly.” In describing an atua a native will say “he mea tona aria” (its aria is a so-and-so). These aria, or forms of incarnation, seem to pertain principally to atua or gods of inferior grades only, as spirits of the dead, deified ancestors, and familiars. In many cases the aria is material, but not always so, as, for example, when the term is used as denoting the ahua. The two wands or
tira ora rite already explained, are alluded to as the aria of life and death, but the term ahua would have been equally as applicable. I have heard the word kohiwitanga used to denote the visible form of an atua, as also the term arikatanga.
All these expressions reviewed above are met with in a study of Maori gods and religious beliefs, and a knowledge of them is highly necessary to those who would peer into native mentality, and the peculiar spiritual concepts that emanated therefrom.
We have seen that the word manawa denotes, not only the organic heart, but also, in some cases, the seat of feeling. It will be seen that the Maori looked upon certain organs as the seat of the emotions and of thought, but never thought of the brain in connection with thinking powers.
The word ngakau denotes the bowels; it is not applied to the organic heart, but to the seat of the feelings, and the mind, hence it is often rendered as heart by us. It is the principal term employed to denote the mind. It is also met with in compound forms, as is the word manawa, hence we note such expressions as ngakau-rua (of two minds, uncertain), ngakau-nui (eager, zealous), etc. Both ngakau and manawa must sometimes be rendered as “inclination, desire.” We now see how the Maori located the seat of emotions and thought in the stomach. Peculiar rites were performed over newly-born infants, over fighting men about to lift the war path, and persons about to undergo or participate in some important rite—“hei whakamarama i te ngakau”—to render the mind clear, intelligent, quick.
The word puku, meaning the stomach, is also employed to denote the seat of emotions, etc., as shown in the expressions puku takaro (playful), puku riri (angry), puku mahi (industrious), and puku kata (amused). In some usages puku must be rendered as “memory,” or “mind.” Yet another word, ate, meaning the liver, is sometimes used as denoting the seat of affection, while ate, puku, ngakau and manawa are all occasionally used in the sense of “spirit,” as implying desire, or inclination.
Hinengaro is yet another word used to denote the seat of thought; used also as “conscience” in some cases, and
atamai, in vernacular speech, means “clever, quick-witted.” It bears the same meaning in the Samoan dialect, but is also there used to denote the mind, as finangalo does at Tonga, and finangaro at Futuna Island (New Hebrides). Elsewhere in Polynesia variant forms of the word hinengaro denote “desire,” “to love,” and “wise.'
Emotions pertain to the ngakau and manawa more than to the hinengaro, as explained to me. The latter is the abiding place of knowledge, of conscience, and of thought. Often the word must be rendered as “mind,” as in: “Ehara te hinengaro o Mea he ngakau kino” (What an evil mind is the hinengaro of So-and-so); and again in: “Te hinengaro o Mea he marua-a-po” (Dark is the mind of So-and-so).
The word aro appears in Williams' Maori Dictionary as meaning “mind, seat of feelings, desire,” also “bowels.” This word is often encountered in old ritual formulæ as bearing some such meaning. In that sense it is certainly not an ordinary usage in these days. Some very interesting examples of the use of this word are noted in old recitals.
I have also a brief note of the word ihomatua as meaning “mind,” but no particulars concerning it.
In the word whakaaro, meaning “thought, opinion, intention, understanding, plan, to think, to consider, etc.,” we have the root form aro, to know, and the causative prefix whaka. The word mahara, meaning “thought, memory, to remember, to think upon,” whakamahara = to remind, is also the name of the spleen, according to Williams' Dictionary. Strange how these words, employed to define mental activities and processes, are connected with the organs of the body.
The conception of a spirit realm in which abide the souls of the dead pertains rather to mythology than to religion, but we have come to look upon such beliefs as a part of the religion of a people. This is an illustration of how myth and religion have become intermingled, and of the impossibility of
We have seen that Tane represents the life and light of this world, and that Whiro represents death, disease and the darkness of the lower world. We have now to show how it is that the souls of the dead in the underworld are not destroyed by Whiro, as their bodies were in this world. The explanation lies in the words of Hine-titama, the Dawn Maid, to Tane, when she bade him return to this world: “Return, O Tane, to our offspring; for you the care of the living, for me the care of the dead. For you to preserve the welfare of our children in the upper world; when decay and death bring them to me I will protect their spiritual welfare.” Thus the erst Dawn Maid ever guards the souls of the dead in the underworld, and so are they able to return to this world to warn their living relatives of danger.
It is interesting to find that the Maori of yore believed in the existence of two spirit worlds, the subterranean underworld and another situated in the uppermost of the twelve heavens, a realm known as the Toi o nga rangi (Summit of the heavens). It must, however, be understood that the popular belief was that all spirits of the dead descended to the underworld. This was the common belief, yet it is quite clear that another, and much less widely known belief, existed concerning a celestial spirit world. As it obtained among the Takitumu tribes I am much inclined to believe that the latter was an esoteric version of priestly teachings. There is some evidence to show that it was the aristocratic belief or teaching, and that ordinary people were either ignorant of it or had no precise knowledge of the concept.
A few early writers refer to a belief in two spirit worlds. Thomson does so in his “Story of New Zealand,” while the Rev.
The Rev. Mr. Yate, whose work on New Zealand was published in 1835, tells us that Te Reinga, the subterranean spirit world of Maori belief, is a place of torment, a very misleading statement. He does provide us, however, with one interesting passage, which runs as follows: “Taki, an old man at Ohaeawai, is still hard and stubborn. He said he was quite satisfied to go to hell so long as he could get what he wanted in this world before he went there, as he was quite sure that he would never reach heaven.”
The ideas of many peoples concerning the spirit world are vague, and so, in connection with the beliefs of the ancient Egyptians, we hear of no less than four spirit worlds, or so it seems, but possibly there is some explanation that reduces the number. Let us look at the Maori accounts. We are told that he believed in a celestial spirit world, and in a subterranean one, to which he gained access at Cape Reinga. But another story is that spirits of the dead proceed to the west, the far west of the setting sun, so that one might credit the Maori with three spirit worlds. These discrepancies are explained by the fact that there are different versions of these
pohutukawa tree stands, a long root of which extends down the face of the cliff. Down this root the spirits proceed to the base of the cliff, where they take their stand on a rock. They see the waters welling upward, the swirling rimu (seaweed) drifts aside to disclose a chasm, the puta rerenga wairua (spirit flitting hole), down which the spirits go to find themselves in the spirit world. Some tell us that the sun, or a sun, shines in that world, where there is no darkness; it is much the same as this world, a belief that probably owes its origin to dreams. The accounts of the further movements of a spirit differ; one says that, as the spirit proceeds, it comes to a fence or obstruction of some kind. If the spirit proceeds, it comes to a fence or obstruction of some kind. If the spirit clambers over this barrier then it will return to this world and re-enter its physical basis; if it passes underneath the barrier, then never will it regain the life of this world. At length the spirit finds the shades of its own relatives and a scene of greeting and weeping commences. A persistent feature of these stories is that, when food is offered to the spirit, and accepted and eaten, return to this world is impossible. The spirit may visit its living relatives as a spirit, but no more.
The story of spirits lacerating their flesh and partaking of food does not disturb the native mind at all, possibly the Maori has a sub-conscious idea that the spirit performs the semblance of these acts, in sympathy with other extra-ordinary beliefs of his. In one case the same person gave me an account of how the spirits of the dead descend to the underworld, and also told me that spirits abide in the tenth heaven.
South of Cape Te Reinga some distance is a stream, known as the Waiora a Tane, a name we have already met
This name of Te Reinga simply means the “flitting place” from which spirits pass to the underworld. Reinga and rerenga are both gerundial forms of the word rere, to leap, run, flit, descend, etc. The Maori has come to apply this name of the starting place to the underworld itself, which is obviously wrong. The precise and correct name of the subterranean spirit world is Rarohenga. The name Muriwai hou ki Rarohenga seems to apply to the entrance or approach to the underworld, and Tahekeroa, the long descent, is the name of the way by which spirits pass from this world to Rarohenga. Paerau seems to be the name of a division of the spirit world. The expression, Rimu ki Motau, met with in songs, seems to denote the seaweed through which the spirit passes, as described above. The phrase Tawa mutu, or last chasm, seems to apply to the same place, where the leap into the next world is made; it appears as tava in the Cook Islands. The words pua reinga, also met with in Maori songs, cannot now be explained by these natives, but here again the Cook Islands natives help us. They say that a pua tree (a species not found in New Zealand), stands at the leaping place of spirits at Rarotonga. The departing spirit ascends this tree and thence leaps into the tava or chasm, the entrance to the spirit world. The Maori also applies the name of Morianuku to the entrance to spirit land, or to some place near it. The folk of the Ngai-Tahu tribe are said to apply the name of Tatau-o-te Po to the underworld, a name that would be more suitably applied to the entrance to the spirit world. It is used as an equivalent for such an expression as “The Gates of Death,” and it was the name of the “house” of Tu and Miru in which was conserved the knowledge of evil.
The bay just east of Cape Reinga is known as Spirit's Bay, and it is from the shores of this bay that, early in April, the godwit commences its annual flight across half a world to Siberia. Assembling in countless thousands for the long migration, the sight of the initial flight is a most impressive one. Of this scene Buckland wrote: “At length, just
kuaka continue their age-long flight to northern Asia, so do the souls of the Maori folk flit across the vast expanse of the Pacific to the loved homeland beneath the setting sun. And this is another story.
The setting sun has ever been connected with death in the human mind; from savagery to the highest culture plane this remark holds good. The sinking sun and the sinking soul of man go down together into the underworld of night. The Maori says, in song: “Tarry a while, O Sun, and together we will descend to the Reinga.” The glories of fine sunsets have influenced man in evolving certain concepts of the spirit world. The return of the sun to this world has helped the belief in life beyond the grave, as the return of the moon led to the myth of resurrection from three days' death. In Maori myth we see that the daughter of the sun dwells in the underworld and protects the souls of the dead. Now it would appear that the Polynesians have two reasons for locating their spirit world in the west. In the first place they have ever connected the setting sun with death, and also they claim that their original homeland lies somewhere in the far west, the hidden land from which their ancestors migrated eastward in long past times. These natives have preserved a strong sentimental regard for that lost homeland; this is very noticeable in Maori songs, and so the belief has grown that the souls of the dead return to the loved home of their ancestors. In connection with this belief we shall see that the entrance to the underworld of spirits has been placed in that homeland. Moreover the homeland has become so confused with the underworld that natives do not seem to be able to draw a dividing line between them. The homeland is usually termed Hawaiki, and we find this name also applied to the lower spirit world; this is a prominent feature of the beliefs of the Cook Islanders.
The following is an account of how the soul of man proceeds to the underworld via the setting sun road. When man of this world is near his end, then the wairua (souls) of his dead relatives come hither from spirit land in order to conduct his released soul to the spirit world. The soul does not commence its journey immediately after the death of the body; it remains in this world for a few days ere setting forth. The period of its sojourn here is that of the time that elapsed between the birth of the person and the dropping of his pito (umbilical cord). The way by which the flitting soul passes over the great ocean to the old, old homeland of the race, is that known as the Ara whanui a Tane. This is the path laid down by Tane-te-waiora for his descendants to pass over on their way to Rarohenga. It is the rippling water road that spans the heaving breast of Hine-moana, the Ocean Maid; it is the Broad Way of Tane, the golden path of the setting sun.
Guided over the Golden Way of Tane, the freed soul fares on over the Great Ocean of Kiwa, tracing the rolling sea paths down which the sea kings passed in the days when the world was young. Far away beneath the setting sun, where Tane gleams above the realm of Whiro the Dark One, there lies the land of Irihia, whereat abode the heroes of old. In that land stands a far-famed mountain, a mountain which, we are assured, it took two full days to ascend. It is known as Maungaharo, as the Tihi o Manono, and also as Irirangi. The summit of this mountain is the most tapu place in the land of Irihia. Here were performed the most sacred rites pertaining to Io, the Supreme Being, here important hakari (ceremonial feasts) were held, and tapu offerings (whakahere) were made. Here also, it is said, lie the offspring of the children of Rangi and Papa. This spot is known as Te Hono-i-wairua, because it is the meeting place of souls of the dead; it is also known as Te Rake-pohutukawa. Hereat stands a strange edifice known as Hawaiki-nui, as Hawaiki-rangi, as Hawaiki-whakaeroero, and as Poutere-rangi; four names it hath. The guardians of this house are the three poutiriao, named Te Kuwatawata, Hurumanu, and Tauru-rangi. Rua of the many names also pertains to this place, and in it lie the two sacred whatu or stones obtained by Tane from
mauri of the company of migrants, together with the ahua (semblance) of their vessels, and their gods, were taken to this place so that the Pure rite might be performed over them ere the voyage was commenced.
In this house of Hawaiki-nui was the meeting place of the sacred four-way path, the ara matua, the path of the four winds, the path by which souls of the dead come from the four corners of the earth to assemble in the sacred house at the meeting place of spirits. These four paths lead from the south, the west, the north and the east. There are four entrances to Hawaiki-nui, one each on the south, west, north and east sides, and by these entrances pass the paths of the four winds into the sacred house. Each soul of the dead that wings its way to this central point of the earth passes by its own wind, and enters the house by that wind. Thus the souls that come forth from the south enter the house by the southern entrance, those from the west by the western entrance, and so on. The four paths enter and meet within Hawaiki-nui, but only two paths leave it. One path leads downward to the underworld of spirits, this is Taheke-roa, the long descent; it is a part of the Ara whanui a Tane. The other is Te Ara-tiatia, also known as the Toi-huarewa. This is the way to the celestial spirit world.
When the souls of the dead enter the “house” known as Hawaiki-nui, some very tapu rite of the Pure type is performed over them, of which, however, we have no particulars. Each of the purified spirits then chooses its final abode. Those that decide to remain with the old Earth Mother pass down Taheke-roa to the underworld, while those who prefer to pass to the celestial spirit world proceed by way of the Ara-tiatia to that supernal realm. The two names of this so-called path to the heavens are sacerdotal expressions employed to denote the whirlwind, the ordinary names of which are awhiorangi, uru puhau and awhiowhio. On reaching the uppermost of the twelve heavens the soul is welcomed by the marei kura, the company of celestial maids abiding in that realm. After a certain length of sojourn in that exalted abode the soul, we are told, loses all memory of this world. It has returned to the
Kawhakaoti te mahara ki taiao.” This very interesting belief of a barbaric folk recalls a remark made by Draper: “The return of the soul to the Universal Intelligence is designated by Erigena as Theosis or deification. In that final absorption all remembrance of its past experiences is lost.”
The term kauwhanga is sometimes applied to the crossed four paths that meet in Hawaiki-nui. This house was erected by the primal offspring. Ara matua is another name for the four-way path, and this is also the name of the ecliptic, a curious coincidence. Tahuaroa and Rangitatau are other names applied to the site of Hawaiki-nui. The tuahu (? altar) of that place is called Hawaiki-nui-o-Maruaroa, and Maruaroa is the name of the winter period of the takanga o te ra (changing of the sun), or winter solstice. Now this house is, we are told, the true, original Hawaiki, which was not the name of the old homeland, as it is now employed, but that of the most tapu and revered place in that land. From that original Hawa-iki the souls of the dead are “ikia ki te Po” (swept away to the spirit world).
It is of interest to note that, at Mangaia island, in the Cook Group, the myth of the Ara whanui is also encountered. Here the souls of the dead assemble at the Waters of Rongo, a stream, and follow the setting sun to the far west, as described by the Rev. W. Gill: “The sun now sinks into the ocean, leaving a golden track, the entire band of ghosts takes a last farewell, and, following their earthly leader, flits over the ocean in the train of the sun god Ra.” In Polynesia they speak of going “down” to the west; possibly this fact had some influence in the growth of the belief that Avaiki or Hawaiki and the underworld are the same place.
One meets with references to these beliefs in Maori songs, as in laments for the dead. Thus, in one Hine-raumoa's lament for her grand-daughter, we find: “Fare on, O maid, by the Broad Way of your ancestor Tane. Enter Hawaiki-rangi and ascend by the toi huarewa to the twelfth heaven. Then enter Rangiatea, whence was brought the treasure of knowledge and the sacred whatu; leaving me here grieving in the lower world, O maid of mine.”
The traditions of Rarotonga, Cook Group, speak of a famed house or temple called Koro-tuatini that stood in the old homeland of the people. It is said to have been the place of assembly of gods and men.
The Rev. whakaeke, a word meaning “to cause to rise, to mount.”
We have already seen that the underworld of spirits is sometimes termed the Po. Wohlers, in his account of South Island natives, makes the necessary distinction between the Reinga and the Po. The latter term is also employed at Tahiti to denote the spirit world. Mr.
Another denizen of the underworld is one Miru, of whom also we know little here; at the Cook Islands the name is much better known. Miru was a female, and was queen of the underworld apparently, and here she seems to clash with Hine-nui-te-Po. At Mangaia she was very prominent, and was said to consume the souls of the dead when they reached the underworld. The Maori tells us that Miru was a companion of Tu, and that both are connected with death and evil. In one version of the myth of Hina, Miru is said to have been a brother of Ihu-atamai and Ihu-wareware, who took Hina to wife at Wai-rarawa, though this may not have been the same being.
In Hine-nui-te-Po, the female being who presides over the underworld of spirits, we encounter an old acquaintance, viz., Hine-titama the Dawn Maid. Her rule of that realm is not unquestioned, for it is disputed by Whiro, he who represents darkness, evil and death. Whiro and his satellites are ever engaged in two ceaseless activities, and these are the destruction of man, the slaying of the descendants of Tane in the upper world, and the striving to destroy the souls of the dead who sojourn in the underworld. Here some explanation
“He ai atu ta te tangata, he huna mai ta Hine-nui-te-Po” (Man begets and Hine-nui-te-Po destroys). Now this is the common version, as generally known and believed by the people, but the superior version, as taught in the whare wananga, is a totally different concept. This teaching shows us that Hine, the erst Dawn Maid, is the abiding shield of the human soul, the ever active buckler of the spirits of the dead who throng the region of Rarohenga. Ever she stands between them and danger, ever she protects them from dread Whiro and his myrmidons who persistently endeavour to destroy them. Since Whiro first descended to the nether world has this ceaseless struggle continued. He assails Hine and her charges as he assails man in the upper world; he wages a double war.
Several writers have told us that the Maori concept of the lower spirit world is that of a hell; this is absolutely wrong. Never did he conceive any punishment of the soul in the spirit world. This erroneous statement seems to have been practically confined to the missionary type of writer. The “place of torment” of which the Rev. Mr. Yate told us had no place in Maori belief. Dr. Savage, who visited New Zealand in 1805, remarked that the natives have an idea of a variety of rewards and punishments in a future state! Inasmuch as this writer could not converse with the natives, and interpreters were not, he must have indulged his imagination to some extent. Brown's statement, in his “Maori and Polynesian,” that Rongo and others were “cast into hell” is most misleading. In Vol. XVI. of the Journal of the Polynesian Society appeared a most unwarrantable rendering of an old Maori formula. It alludes to the “dismal hell” of Rarohenga, “the place of sighs and groans.” All these doleful statements were invented by the so-called translators or paraphrasers; not a word of them appears in the original.
Earle, who sojourned in New Zealand in 1827, did not so give play to his imagination, and so gives us a credible account of native belief on this subject. He wrote: “The
In Forster's account of Cook's second voyage, we note the following in his remarks on the natives of Tahiti: “Whether they have any idea of rewards and punishments in a future state, we could not learn; but it is most reasonable to suppose that such ideas have occurred to a nation so far advanced as the Tahitians.” Why should it be reasonable to suppose it? In most cases the belief in a hell of punishment has been evolved by races much further advanced than the Polynesians. Again, one Schwaner tells us that the natives of the Barito River region of Borneo do not believe in any system of punishment after death, and adds: “From this principle those defective ethics result which are found among all these people.” Truly this sounds like the tenth century. But enough of these mythical hells; we will leave them alone, as the Maori did.
Several early writers mention a native belief that the souls in the underworld pass through a number of phases, degenerating in the process, until they become extinct. Quite possibly some did hold this view, though I have not myself gained any such information. Mr. White mentions it, and refers to Ameto as the lowest realm of the nether world, where extinction comes. Personally I place little faith in the name Ameto; it is an improbable form. It is possible that the word See Ometo of Marquesas myth.—Journal of the Polynesian Society. Vol. IV., p. 199.meto, meaning “extinguished, extinction,” was employed as a personification term; in which case the expression would have been “ki a Meto,” and not “Ki Ameto.”
Two beings, named Rua-toia and Rua-kumea, are said to conduct souls of the dead down the way called Tahekeroa, that leads to the underworld. It is this underworld that was known as the kainga huna a Tane (the hidden home of Tane); it is where he retires to each evening to pass the night.
In this native belief in two distinct spirit worlds we have an interesting illustration of the development of such concepts. The Maori had reached a peculiar stage of such development. He had not evolved any belief in post mortem punishment of the human soul, or of any system of rewards in the next life. Then why should he need two spirit worlds? My own belief is that the oldest concept is that of the underworld of spirits, a shadowy realm such as that of Babylonian and Hebrew belief. The celestial spirit world is probably a later conception, and I am inclined to believe that it is due to the aristocratic spirit of the Maori; in fact, the bulk of the people seem to have been ignorant of the particulars relating to the spirit realm of the twelfth heaven, as they were ignorant of the Supreme Being, Io the Parent. Now it is quite possible, and it seems to me probable, that this belief in two spirit worlds would have led eventually to the idea of a heaven and hell. An intermediate stage would be a belief that the common people descended to Rarohenga, while those of the superior class ascended to the Toi o nga rangi, or uppermost heaven. Not that I think the Maori would ever have equalled our Christian priests of past centuries in the conceiving of horrible features of their beloved hell. The Maori had already evolved a very good parallel for our old friend Satan in Whiro, while Io would have made an excellent beneficent god.
The Maori custom of invoking Io to bestow mana on a newly-born infant, the belief that such mana returned to the Supreme Being at the death of the recipient, with that of the refinement of the human soul after death and its ascension to supernal regions to dwell in the realm of Io, are striking evidence of superior mentality in the old-time Maori.
The ordinary folk of a Maori community doubtless looked upon religious beliefs and practices with an eye to personal advantage, as I suppose all peoples do to some extent. This attitude certainly influenced the Maori in his acceptance of Christianity. The superior concepts noted in this paper were evidently the fruit of superior minds.
John Wesley said that to disbelieve in witchcraft is to disbelieve in the Bible, so that we cannot be surprised that the barbaric Maori had so firm a faith in the arts of the sorcerer. In a Maori community any person believed to
did possess such power. This is shown by the fact that fear would kill his victims. Let a native once get the idea into his head that he has been bewitched, and his days are numbered. Dr. Thomson tells us in his “Story of New Zealand” of how a native who imagined himself bewitched refused food and lay prostrate in a state of apathy until he died. Many of us who have lived in contact with natives have known of similar cases. In some cases a native might recover from such imaginary affliction; for instance, if he believed that an expert of his own folk possessed greater mana than the enemy magician. In such a case he would get such expert to nullify the powers of the hostile magician and also to cause them to recoil upon himself, and so slay him.
The native belief in makutu, or magic, was the cause of a considerable amount of suffering and injustice, but was undoubtedly a beneficial form of discipline in some ways. It was a weapon that could be employed by the weak; a belief in it fostered hospitality and politeness, and put some restraint on the actions of evil doers. The thief dreaded it because he believed in second sight and black magic. Men knew that if they sought to injure a fellow tribesman in any way, the shafts of magic might be levelled against them.
Magic and religion were confused in Maoriland, and we cannot explain one without dealing with the other. Magic may be said to have entered into all phases of Maori religion, but the highest class of priestly experts do not appear to have indulged in black magic, at least in the Takitumu district. They did, however, practise what we may term white magic, such performances as the oho rangi rite already described, the awakening of the heavens in order to impart mana to a rite. The power that rendered all rites of magic effective emanated from the gods, and it was the same beings who imparted mana to all religious rites. Little wonder that the Maori drew no clear line of distinction between religion and magic.
The belief in the powers of the sorcerer was not eradicated in the Maori mind by the acceptance of Christianity, and it will be long ere that belief dies. In my own experience I
makutu, and had reason to chide the sorcerer in somewhat strong terms. I was informed by natives that my foreign extraction alone saved me from death on that turbulent occasion.
When we know that, at any time, the death of a person might be attributed to magic, and that it would be deemed a pious duty to slay the wizard, then we can see how faith in wizardry often led to injustice. The perils of travellers outside the tribal bounds were serious, and men were chary of allowing their young folk to travel in such regions, on account of the dread of witchcraft. Very singular precautions were taken by travellers. Black magic is one of the items of the “basket” of evil obtained by Tane, and it is connected with Whiro the demon.
Makutu was a dangerous game, and no wizard knew when his end might come at the hand of some enraged person. In the early “seventies” a native named Weriweri, of Taupo, an alleged wizard, was suspected of having slain a person by his dread arts at Oruanui. The people of that place sent him a letter telling him to proceed thither and answer the charge. He told an officer in charge of one of our military posts of the receipt of the letter. That officer asked him: “Well, Weriweri, are you going there to answer the charge?” Weriweri looked slyly up, and said: “E Katene. No purari whia”!
The arts of black magic were exercised in different ways. In some cases a mere recital of an incantation seems to have been sufficient; in others the only action referred to is some movement of the wizard, who, presumably, would be silently repeating his spells. Again mediums were employed, mediums animate and inanimate. Such medium might be a lizard, or a stone, or a wooden post, or—well, anything. Some forms of the dreaded makutu are aggressive, and far distant persons could be destroyed by this fell art. Other forms were protective, and did not become active unless some act of trespass occurred, as in the case of the waro rahui. Another form is that consisting of certain actions and spells employed for the purpose of nullifying the effect of magic arts. These
Whenever a native died otherwise than of old age, or in battle, the suspicion of witchcraft was always liable to appear. If so, then a tohunga would probably be requested to ascertain the identity of the wizard, and there were several ways of doing so. In one of these a small, rude representation of a human figure was made of bulrush leaves, and this was placed at the edge of the wai tapu, or stream where the adept performed his rites. By reciting a spell he would cause the wairua, or astral form, of the sorcerer to appear, and would recognise him and be able to make his name known. A more direct method was one in which the adept prodded the corpse with a stick and enquired of it: “Are you at the south?” Another prod accompanied the question: “Are you at the west?” So he worked round the compass. Should the body move, or appear to move, at any of these prods, then it would be known in which direction the sorcerer resided. The next quest was the individual, and so another series of prods would be delivered, and further questions asked, as: “Are you connected with—?” mentioning the name of some person living in the direction indicated. Should any sign of movement be noted on the part of the corpse at the repetition of a person's name, then that person was deemed responsible for the foul act. It might be decided to destroy the sorcerer by means of long distance magic, or an armed party might be despatched to slay him. A similar ceremony was performed over a sick person in order to discover what sorcerer or atua (demon, evil spirit) was afflicting the sufferer. Should the body of a person whose death had been attributed to witchcraft have been buried when the seer arrived, that worthy would procure a fern-stalk and recite over it one of the many spells that come under the generic term hoa. This he would place on the grave and then retire. Should the stick, after a certain lapse of time, be found to have sunk into the earth, then it was known that the defunct one had been bewitched. In cases where a person was believed to have been slain by sorcery a relative might procure a stick, tap the corpse with it (presumably to attract its attention), and say: “Anei to rakau hei ranaki i to mate” (Here is your weapon wherewith to avenge your death).
The origin of the arts of black magic can be traced back to Tai-whetuki, the house of evil and of death, the abode of Whiro. All magic rites that destroy man and his food supplies originated there. That place was the origin of all teaching of the arts of black magic, of what east coast natives term the whare maire, an institution for the teaching of sorcery. This term was employed in cases where a class was instructed, but when it was a case of a man teaching a single pupil, perhaps his son, or grandson, the term whare porukuruku was employed. In the old story of Mahu and Taewha we see that scholars in the school of sorcery were, in at least some cases, required to undergo very distressing ordeals, such as the eating of repulsive substances. At the conclusion of the course of lectures or addresses the scholar had to show his skill and command of his new powers. Above all he had to show that he possessed the necessary mana to render his spells and rites effective. We are told that he was compelled, by means of potent spells, backed by a high order of mana (will power or psychic force in this case) to shatter a stone, to blast a tree, and slay a human being. We hear of most extraordinary things having been done, of such a sorcerer directing his dread powers against some person, probably a slave, at some distance from him, and of how that bewitched person died at once. The present writer is not quite Maori enough to accept these tales as the truth, but at least he had the sagacity never to mention his doubts. In some cases, we are told, a pupil was compelled to so slay one of his own relatives, or his teacher, to prove his new powers, or has even been instructed to kill one of his own parents. I can quite understand that a native who believed himself to be bewitched would die ere long, possibly even the same day, but as to his dropping dead when the spell was recited, well, this is asking a good deal of us.
When a man considered himself to be in a desperate situation, and doubted his ability to save himself, he might place himself unreservedly in the hands of the gods, concluding his supplication with the words: “Ki a koe, E Rehua! Mau e tiaki” (To thee, O Rehua! Do you protect—“me” understood) if his atua happened to be Rehua. If a man acted so in good faith, why then the matter resolved itself into a question of mana of the opposing gods.
There were great numbers of charms for the purpose of warding off the shafts of magic. If a person had reason to believe that he was being bewitched he would say nothing, but quietly go home and refrain from taking any food for three days. He would also repeat a charm to destroy the power of any magic levelled at himself, and possibly another directed against the wizard. These would probably be recited at the turuma, or village latrine, where he would stand facing the east as he repeated them. Such a spell now lying before me consigns the body of the wizard to death, and his soul to the underworld. The great desire of the injured party was to let the offender eat first, in which case his spell would recoil upon him and slay him, or any spell uttered against him would enter his body with the food and have a similar effect. In addition to the warding-off charm, and perhaps an active spell of black magic, our injured person might wish to take still further precautions. Thus he would order some food to be prepared, then proceed again to the turuma, and, kneeling down, bite, or apply his teeth to, the horizontal beam of the latrine, the ngau paepae rite already explained. This act was believed to be extremely effective. He would then procure a fragment of the food that had been prepared, pluck a hair from his head and another from his body, convey all three to the wai tapu (tapu stream) of the village, and cast all into the water, repeating a charm as he did so. He then returned to the village and partook of the prepared food, when he repeated a final protective charm.
One fails to see any sense in many of the formulæ employed on such occasions as the above. That consigning the wizard to death is clear enough, but that repeated when casting the objects into the water runs as follows:—“I generate my fire to great ocean, to vast ocean, to restless ocean,” where it ends abruptly. How these words could save a person from the fell shafts of black magic passeth the understanding of civilised man, perchance the Maori himself was no wiser, but he possessed the abiding faith that makes for contentment.
The following method for foiling a wizard was recommended to me by a grey old warrior of the siege of Orakau. If you come to know that some person is attempting to bewitch you, ascertain who it is that is making the attempt,
ruahine to eat. “Friend! The realm of death shall claim that man.”
One of the most effective ways to destroy man by magic is that known as matakai. This means the bewitching of a person at the time he is engaged in eating food. If the magic spell is repeated at such a time it is said to be doubly effective. Among the Maori folk should people partaking of a meal see any persons passing by, they would at once call to them to step aside and partake of the meal. To neglect this invitation to passers-by was deemed unlucky, and not always safe. A neglected person might be a warlock of parts, and retaliate by exercising his powers of sorcery.
The use of mediums in magic was a common practice among the Maori. Thus when it was desired to slay a person by magic arts, or to affect him in other ways, or to cause a woman to desire a certain man, a medium was procured if possible. This medium might be a hair, a fragment from a garment, or some of his spittle, anything that had been in contact with him, or her. Thus it is seen that such a medium is useful in both black and white magic. The article itself is termed an ohonga, and the expressions aria and ahua, explained elsewhere, are sometimes applied to it. A brief spell was quietly repeated by the person taking the medium, and another one after he had secured it. Other charms served to weaken the victim, to lessen his powers of resistance, and yet others to complete the task and slay him.
The ohonga or mediumistic object represents the hau or personality of the victim, hence we may hear a native say that the hau of a person was taken. It is the ohonga that was actually taken, but that, representing as it does the hau of the victim, gives the sorcerer power over the hau and its physical basis. His spells and performances are rendered effective by the connecting link of the ohonga; it is the vehicle between the active spell and the passive object.
One method of destroying human life was that known by the names of rua-iti, rua-tupo, rua-haeroa and rua-torino. All
tuahu, and which was symbolical of death, the pit of death; it was the waro or chasm of destruction. An account of this mode of destroying man was given by Tarakawa of the Bay of Plenty in a very lucid manner. We will suppose that a man's death has been attributed to witchcraft. The officiating tohunga will procure a portion of saliva from the defunct one's mouth on a leaf and then take that leaf to the tuahu, or place of rites. The avenger now divests himself of his garments, ties a piece of Phormium leaf round his body, and busies himself in fashioning a rude image of a person with earth, also a small hole in it, or in the earth near it. This hole is the rua-torino, or rua-iti (rua=pit). He then takes a stone in his hand and recites a potent spell of black magic that will compel the wairua (spirit or soul) of the man slayer to leave the magician's body and fly direct to the rua-torino. As he does so he strikes the earthen image with the stone. Ere long the wairua of the wizard will arrive; it will leave the wizard's body and proceed direct to the rua in the form of a fly. As it is seen to enter the little pit the avenger dashes the stone down on it and recites the dread spell that destroys it, that is that causes its physical basis, the body of the wizard, to perish. Meanwhile the wizard is probably ignorant of the fact that his wairua has been taken, until he sickens, and so knows that his end is near. On the other hand his atua, or familiar, might warn him that some person was tampering with his wairua, whereupon he would busy himself in uttering spells to counteract his enemy's efforts. Again, if his mana was greater than that of the person who was attacking him from afar, then that person would not succeed in capturing his wairua. A vast deal depends on mana in all these activities pertaining to magic and ritual performances.
The use of mediums in black magic was a serious matter in the life of the Maori. He never knew when he was safe, he could never tell when evil influences were at work to destroy him; his very friends might be the innocent means of causing his death. A garment presented to him might contain his death warrant; a gift of food might have been so charmed as to cause his death when he ate thereof; a stroll
tapu or charmed place that would be his undoing. Where we repeat a grace before eating, the Maori did much the same thing in order to destroy any harmful powers or influence that might pertain to the food. Birds were employed as mediums in both black and white magic, the owl being utilised in the former case.
Not only did the Maori employ magic for the purpose of destroying the soul or vital spirit of man, but he also performed rites intended to affect the minds of people. For instance the umu tamoe was one such that was supposed to suppress ill feeling, enmity on the part of others. It was utilised when travelling in strange regions. Immigrants from Polynesia are said to have recited charms for this purpose ere landing on these shores, being doubtful of the reception they might receive. The rotu moana was a spell employed to calm the ocean, and another rotu charm was for the purpose of causing people to sleep. This term rotu is one of some interest. Mr. rata is another that has some strange meaning unknown to us. It denoted a seer, also divination, and, as an adjective, “quiet, tame, friendly.” Whakarata means to tame, to subdue; at Mangareva wizards were called akarata (whakarata). The Malay word lata, applied to hypnotism, is an interesting comparative.
When reciting certain spells a wizard adopted a very extraordinary attitude. He hollowed cut a small pit in the earth and put his head in it, keeping it there as he repeated the words of the spell. This was done in connection with the avenging of insults, and a curious rite performed in order to cause people to abandon their homes and leave the district. Insults, termed kohukohu, kanga, kai-upoko, etc., were productive of much trouble. As a general thing the Maori is a very civil person, but if he wishes to insult a person he is liable to work himself into a very excited condition. To see two women quarrelling is a singular sight; the talking and shrieking that goes on is remarkable, but they do not come to blows. There was always the danger that any person who considered himself to be insulted would have recourse to magic in order to avenge the slight. In many cases the fear of such retaliation seems to have had a deterrent effect.
A form of makutu was the burying of some material medium in a path so that any person who walked over it would be seriously affected, if not destroyed. Another method was simply to wave one's hand across the path while reciting the spell that had so serious an effect. For this reason an approaching enemy would often keep away from paths when approaching a village to be attacked. The safest way was to walk in water wherever possible, inasmuch as no trace of a person's hau or personality is left as a possible danger. For, as a person walks, a certain amount of
his hau clings to his footprints, this hau of the human foot or footstep being known as manea. Now an enemy could use the manea as a medium in black magic and so slay the person who formed the footprint. This kind of danger made people careful in olden times. If, when rising from a seat, a person thought that his companions might include an enemy, he would, as he rose, draw his curved hand across the spot he had sat upon, and so scoop up any of his hau that might be clinging thereto. In Crooke's work on the natives of Northern India occurs the following passage: “Passing from initiative to contagious magic, a good example of the latter is to be found in the theory that a man may be injured by placing
The pseudo-science of makutu was often called upon when a thief was ripe for punishment. Of such punishment there were several grades. The injured person might desire that the thief be utterly destroyed, or perhaps visited with some less severe form of punishment. A magic rite called ahi matiti, or whakamatiti caused the thief to become mentally deranged, and also contracted and weakened his fingers in such a manner that he would find it very difficult to steal again. There were a number of spells that were believed to have similar effects. When the thief was unknown the tohunga could ascertain his identity by performing a certain rite, when the wairua or image of the thief would appear before him.
Illness and disease were often believed to be due to magic arts, and the Maori believed that sorcerers could inflict certain diseases by means of spells. Thus the wero ngerengere is a spell employed in order to cause a person to be afflicted by ngerengere, a local form of leprosy now almost extinct.
The term tipi denotes destruction by means of magic rites. The Tipi a Houmea is a rite by which trees can be blasted, man slain, and lands rendered infertile. In performing this rite the operator seeks or prepares a smooth surface of earth or sand which he scores across with a stick as he repeats his dread spell. To sterilise a stream, to render it unproductive of food supplies, he will throw a stone across it as he repeats his karakia.
By means of charms the Maori held that he could lengthen or shorten the day, contract or draw out land, cause the sun to shine, the rain to cease, frost to disappear, and many other marvellous things.
As to how far the sorcerers (tohunga puri, tohunga ruanuku, and tohunga makutu) of old believed in their own powers, or believed that they possessed magic powers, it is impossible to say. The shamanistic low-grade practitioners were probably downright humbugs. As to white magic, quite possibly the high-class tohunga were more genuine, and really believed that they held strange powers.
A charm termed ka mahunu was believed to have the power of affecting the conscience of a person. It was used in
Tumatapongia is the name of a charm that renders the reciter invisible; it is useful to one pursued by enemies. Another extremely useful charm is that called papaki, by means of which you can render demented a woman who refuses to smile upon you. The whai motu charm will help to cure a wound, and that called titikura will do much towards restoring a sick person to health.
Many examples and illustrations of magic appear under other headings in this neolithic chronicle.
Communal usages difficult to understand—No internal competition in a community—Social organisation—The whanau or family group—It becomes a clan—Then a tribe—The true eponymous ancestor—The waka—The social unit—The individual is lost—The patriarchate—Welfare of the tribe paramount—Clan names—How the Maori became a competent genealogist—Memorising powers of the Maori—Social classes—Rank—Chieftainship—The ariki—Respect for primogeniture—The commoners—Female rank—Consanguineous nomenclature—The kahurangi or puhi—Mareikura and whatukura—Deference paid to rank—Influential women—Management of tribal affairs—Military duty viewed as an ordinary task—Tokens of chieftainship—Public opinion a strong force—Lack of civil law in Maori commune—Its substitutes—Punishment by gods comes in this world—Superstition or religion—The dictum of Tylor—“Werohia ki au!”—Muru—Filiation—Lack of true family life—The urukehu or fair-skinned folk—Terms of relationship, etc.—Personal names—Tapu names—Topographical nomenclature—Introduced place names—Floral nomenclature—Extensive use of proper names—Terms of address—Greetings—Visitors—Guests—Feasts—The village marae or plaza—Hospitality—A wife's duties—Reception of visitors—The tangi—Speeches—The food-bearing function—Stockade breached to admit important personage—Retinue of a chief—Social and ritual functions—Invitation party—Hakari stages—New Year festival—Mana; how transferred—The institution of rahui—Property—Land tenure—Land boundaries—Affection of the Maori for his land—“Send me a handful of soil that I may weep over it.” Division of labour—Tasks of men—Of women—Burdens—Restriction of liberty of action among women—General aspect of woman's life—Clothing—Hair—Gait of women—Female beauty appreciated—Maternal love—Children—Infanticide—Massage—The Tohi rite—Meals—Cooking—The steam oven—Serving of food—The horrors of washing-up unknown—Oven stones—Cooking sheds—Stone boiling—Utensils—Domestic vessels—Pottery unknown—The taumaha ceremony—Aphorisms—Food supplies—Fern root—The genus Cordyline provides food—
Hinau bread—Tawa kernels—Tutu jelly—Masticatories—Fungi—Earthworms eaten—Clay eating—The native dog—Personal mannerisms—Habit of covering mouth—The hongi salutation—Social manners—Gestures—Signalling.
Maori sociology can assuredly be described as an interesting study to those who take pleasure in acquiring knowledge of the development of human culture. As in the case of their religious beliefs and practices, we may note, in the social usages of the Maori, highly instructive phases of such development. In these usages we see the origin of many of our own customs, and learn how they came to find a place in the tribal polity. We shall see that, backward as the Maori was in many ways, yet the possessed some remarkable social virtues, and had learned to be unselfish when the welfare of the tribe was at stake.
The peculiar conditions under which a communal folk live appear strange to us, and, unless we bear the nature of those conditions in mind, we shall not understand many of the old native usages. Moreover, we are likely to condemn useful institutions, or customs, simply because they do not agree with those we are accustomed to in a widely different social system. It is absolutely essential to remember that, in the Maori tribe, existed no form of internal competition or struggle for existence. Such competition was confined to extra-tribal spheres. Family groups and sub-tribes might, and did, occasionally quarrel, and even fight each other. When, however, any danger from without threatened the tribe, then such quarrels at once ceased, and the clans closed their ranks and presented a solid front against all aggression from without. It is, then, the sociology of an interesting communistic and neolithic people that we are about to examine. It may, I believe, be fairly claimed that the social organisation of the Maori tribe, and its self-contained sub-divisions, together with their remarkable substitutes for civil law, form a highly instructive and interesting study for the student of anthropology.
It will be well, in the first place, to scan the social organisation of the people, and this entails the explanation of several
There is, however, another term to be explained, which, though scarcely a factor in the social organisation of the people, yet influenced occasional groupings of tribes, or loosely knitted leagues. This term is waka, which means a canoe or vessel, a vehicle in fact, hence it is also applied to the introduced buggy, etc., and the human medium of an atua. The out-rigger canoes and double canoes formerly employed by the Maori in deep-sea navigation were called waka. When one of the vessels arrived on these shores with a party of immigrants, a suitable place was sought for a settlement. Such a company of persons would band together as a social unit, until, as time rolled on, the population of the district increased to such proportions that it became formed into different tribes. A tribe would commence its existence as a whanau; some man of influence would propose that a certain family group, or extended family, composed of, say three generations, should adopt a collective name and so be recognised as a distinct social unit. This unit might be composed of a certain man of position, his wife, their children and grandchildren. The name adopted for the unit was often that of the head man mentioned above, of which name more anon. This whanau would dwell together as a social unit, possibly in a small hamlet, as among forest dwelling folk, or occupying a well-defined subdivision of a larger village, often a fortified one.
In course of time our whanau, increasing in numbers, would develop into a hapu, or clan, and, possibly, later, into an iwi, or tribe. It will thus be seen that all members of a Maori tribe were descendants of a common ancestor. No outsider could become a real member of the tribe, though he might marry into it, and live his life out with his wife at her own home. His children would be members of the tribe in virtue of their mother's blood.
Now the point I wish to illustrate is this: All the tribes so sprung from immigrants of a certain waka or vessel would
waka. Thus the Ngati-Awa, Whakatohea and Tuhoe tribes of the Bay of Plenty district belong to the vessel named Mātātua, that came to land at Whakatane about five hundred years ago. Each of these tribes is composed of a number of clans, which again include many whanau or family groups.
In Maori society the individual could scarcely be termed a social unit; he was lost in the whanau, or family group, which may be termed the social unit of Maori life. The true family was lost in the group likewise.
The waka cannot be looked upon as a cohesive social organisation; it was not so, the iwi was the largest self-contained, cohesive body known in Maori sociology. Still blood is ever thicker than water, and times of stress might find the different iwi of a waka, combined in an offensive or defensive league. This league, however, would fall to pieces when that time of stress passed away. Still, when there was no actual warfare between these tribes, there was a certain amount of inter-communication, even of inter-marriage. They remembered that they were akin to each other, and something nearer than the tribes of other vessels.
The term hapupu is occasionally applied to a small number of closely related people, not sufficiently numerous to be called a hapu, or clan. So far as I understand it the title seems to be but a secondary name for the whanau.
Each whanau was a self-contained, self-controlling unit, managing its own affairs, save in cases wherein it was considered necessary that they should be discussed by the clan of which the whanau or family group was a part. The same remarks apply to the clan; important matters would be brought before a meeting of the tribe, such a matter, for example, as a warlike expedition. In such cases of general action, any clan might decline to take part in the proposed movement, and, should it do so, there would be no compulsion. Even a high chief could not compel it to fall into line with the rest.
The only term given as defining a whanau, or family group, in “The Handbook of Folk Lore,” is that of kindred. The conception of this word, as held by the average person, is, however, something much wider. The whole of the members of a Maori tribe are kindred to each other; not only are
hapu) was not exogamous, nor was it truly endogamous; any member thereof might please himself as to whether he married within or without the clan, so long as the contracting parties were of at least the third generation from a common ancestor.
It will be seen that the Maori was living in the second stage of social progress, the patriarchal stage. Presumably he has, in the remote past, emerged from the savage organisation, as described by Jenks in his “History of Politics.” The statement of this writer that “In most cases, if not all, the common ancestor of the tribe is a fictitious person” cannot possibly be applied to the Maori tribe. The clan of Jenks is a body “consisting of some three or four generations only.” Now this is the Maori whanau, or sub-clan, the clan itself may be very much older. To take a case well known to myself: The Ngati-Tawhaki clan of the Tuhoe tribe is composed of the descendants of the eponymic ancestor Tawhaki, who flourished nine generations ago. Mr. Jenks speaks of the “household” as being, apparently, equivalent to the Maori whanau, or family group.
The Maori tribe was essentially exclusive. Another marked characteristic of Maori life was the communal nature of social life and usages. The key to the understanding of this condition is the fact that a man thought and acted in terms of family group, clan, or tribe, according to the nature or gravity of the subject, and not of the individual himself. The welfare of the tribe was ever uppermost in his mind; he might quarrel with a clansman, but let that clansman be assailed in any way by an extra-tribal individual, or combination of such, and he at once put aside animosity and took his stand by his side. When my worthy old friend Te Piki-kotuku was appointed by the Rua-tahuna natives to go forth and make peace with the Government troops, ere disaster came upon the harried tribe, he knew full well that never more would he see his wife Marie again. She lay near to death, but, like a true Maori, rose to the occasion. She said, as related to me by her daughter in later and more
One more illustration: When the French attacked a fortified village at the Bay of Islands to avenge the death of their leader, Hei aha!” As the men of yore said: “Man should die spear in hand.”
The word whanau means offspring, also a family group. It is also applied to the true family but in the sense of offspring. In order to indicate a family of children the expression whanau tahi is employed, but this does not include the parents. This is evidence as to the importance of the family group. Thus the word enters into tribal names, as Te Whanau a Apanui (the Offspring of Apanui). The word whanaunga means “relative, blood connection.” The term whanau tuturu is sometimes applied to a consanguineous family group of three or four generations. When a whanau passes the fourth generation, that of the great grandchildren of the original couple, then it is probably composed of a sufficient number of individuals to claim its place as a hapu or clan.
The writer has in mind one whanau or family group that is composed of two brothers, a sister, and their children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren, in all ninety-two persons. The parents of the first-named generation, the true forbears of the group, are dead, their living children being now from seventy to eighty years of age. Now this group is looked upon as a whanau. It is composed of four generations,
whanau and the true family.
When a whanau assumes a name it often takes that of the male forbear of the group. Were his name Tura, then the group would be called Ngati-Tura, the prefix meaning offspring or descendants of. Ati and Ngai are variant forms of this prefix bearing a similar meaning. Occasionally a woman became the eponymous ancestress of a clan, as in the case of one named Ngati-Hinepare. We also know of cases in which clans have derived their name from some incident, or some quality of its members, as Te Patuwai and Te Kirikohatu. The first was so named from the fact that an ancestor had been slain in a river (patu, to slay; wai, water). In the second case the clan was remarkable for the bravery of its warriors, hence they were kiriuka (hard skinned, unflinching), and were named Kiri-kohatu (kiri, skin; kohatu, stony).
The strong feeling concerning heredity and the necessity of consanguineous relationship among all members of a tribe, were two of the reasons why the Maori was so careful to preserve knowledge of his descent, and made him a very remarkable genealogist.
The Tuhoe tribe are descendants of the eponymic ancestor Tuhoe-potiki, who flourished some sixteen generations ago, and every man of the tribe knows at least his own line of descent. Some twenty-two years ago I made out a table showing the different lines of descent from this ancestor, bringing them right down to living persons, and showing every member of the tribe then living. The tribe was then about eight hundred strong. Some of its members were living among other tribes, being taharua (two-sided), that is a parent or other forbear had married into another tribe. Now should these taharua continue to reside for generations with that other tribe, then their claim to Tuhoe lands would become mataotao (cold).
While engaged in making out the above-mentioned table, an old man named Tamarau, of the Ngati-Koura clan, was one of my sources of information. He kept his stand in the Native Land Court for three days, and gave from memory lines of descent that contained over fourteen hundred names
It must be borne in mind that the whole of the eight hundred persons mentioned are descendants of the tribal ancestor Tuhoe-potiki.
Writers on Maori sociology do not agree in their statements as to social classes, but the majority divide the people into three grades, viz., chiefs, commoners and slaves. One writer has boldly declared that the Maori recognised but two classes, the gentleman and the slave. There is certainly something to be said for this contention, as will be shown anon. The principal controversy has hinged upon the status of chiefs, as to whether or not the ariki was the most important personage. Albeit several other terms, such as ihorei and tumu-whakarae, were applied to the high chief of a people, yet after all these were all ariki. More or less fanciful honorific titles were applied to an ariki, but I quite fail to see that any of these betokened a higher rank than that of ariki. Indeed, when the birth, rank and status of an ariki are considered, it is difficult to see how any personage could be of higher rank. This is indeed shown in a communication received from an old native, a piece of evidence that might easily be used as supporting a contention that the highest chieftain of a tribe was above the ariki. The remark was to the effect that the title of whatukura was bestowed upon a man, an ariki, who was selected from among the various ariki to act as a supreme leader. Now ariki means a first-born male or female of a leading family of a tribe, so that a tribe may contain a number of ariki. The fact that one was selected as a supreme chief endowed him with more mana than the other ariki held, but he was still an ariki. The Maori had an intense respect for primogeniture, and recognised no higher rank than that of a male ariki who traced descent through a line of first-born sons of a high-class family. True it is that nature had a habit of marring these lines of descent by introducing a female first-born child, or producing a first-born male who was incapable of upholding with dignity the position of ariki. Admitted that an ariki selected as an ihorei, whatukura, or tumu-whakarae possessed greater social and executive mana than his fellows, yet he was still but an ariki in hereditary
ariki was also a tohunga (priestly expert and learned man), and this imparted additional mana
Mana=prestige, influence, power, etc.
In the Waikato district a male ariki was called ariki tauaroa, and a female one ariki tapairu, often termed simply tapairu in other districts. The term noted above, whatukura, is a usage of the Takitumu district, where his first-born son would be an ariki, while his female children were termed mareikura. The term rangatira means “well born, a chief, a person of good breeding,” and includes both sexes. All persons of good family are members of this class, including
all ariki. Inasmuch as all members of a tribe are connected with well-born families, then it becomes a difficult matter to define the ware or tutua class, the people of low degree. Never have I met a native who would admit that he was a member of that class. When one presses a native for an explanation as to what persons comprise the tutua class, he is usually told that it consists of the offspring of the younger children of a family. Herein we see that tutua and rangatira are, after all, members of the same family, so that ariki, rangatira and tutua may be said to belong to one family in reality. Now we see that a statement quoted above as to their being but two classes, rangatira and slaves, is not wide of the truth. Moreover, as slaves are not members of the tribe, but prisoners taken in war from other tribes, we might
rangatira. The fact is the whole matter rests on primogeniture; the matamua, or first-born, occupied a much superior position to that of his tatao, or younger brothers and sisters. As a necessary sequence the hamua, or elder branch of a family, was held to be superior to the younger branches, and it is among the latter that we must look for the so-called common people. The fact that the elder branches strove to marry among themselves intensified the position, so that, in course of time, the members of a younger branch might come to be looked upon as tutua. Under these conditions, when a member of an elder branch married into a younger one, the fact was viewed as evidence of tipuheke, or degeneration.
There is another aspect of the matter to be considered, viz., that in some cases the status of tutua was the result of some social stigma, in which cases the matter of birth did not enter into the question. A well-informed man gave me the following as causes of a family group descending to the condition of tutua. He gave four causes for a people being reckoned as tutua, all of which are connected with some social stigma:—
In all the above cases we see how persons of the mana.
mana of their saviours. The latter would, in later days, remark: “You passed under my armpit.”rangatira class might be reduced in status, not because of inferior birth, but on account of misfortune or lack of courage. A rangatira, to preserve his mana and position, must act in a rangatira like manner.
The terms pononga and wheteke were applied to menials, such as servants or attendants of persons of rank of either
taurekareka.
The personal pride and aristocratic leanings of the Maori were accompanied by an independent spirit that called for careful control on the part of a chief. Thus no chief was able to treat the people in an arrogant manner, and commands were generally replaced by suggestions, proposals for certain lines of action. Any project for concerted action was discussed by the group, clan, or tribe, as the case might be. It would by no means follow that all would agree to it. An important chief, calling upon his tribe to engage in warfare, might or might not get all the clans to join him. We know of a number of cases in which one or more clans have declined to join the rest in a foray. All this meant that anything like slavish deference was impossible to a Maori. He never fell into that condition, as did some of his far-off kinsmen in Polynesia. In the Maori pride and self-respect were coupled with genuine respect for primogeniture and good birth. Deference he certainly showed to respected chiefs, but there was no trace of the sycophant in him that might blossom into slavishness.
The title of poumatua, employed among some tribes to denote a secondary chief, can scarcely be said to mark a rank of chieftainship. The claim that there were four distinct ranks of chiefs may have been correct in regard to some tribes, but such conditions were by no means universal. Be it here repeated that the person of highest rank in a Maori community was the first-born male of the most important family. There would probably be several families of about the same status, and the first-born males of these families would be the most important personages of the tribe. Honorific terms applied to such men were upoko ariki, toi ariki, and tikitiki, together with others.
Among the Kahungunu tribe women of the highest class were styled mareikura, and these alone possessed the privilege of the tuhi mareikura in personal adornment. This was a facial adornment consisting of a cross on each cheek and one on the forehead, all marked with a blue earth paint called pukepoto. Women of secondary rank were known as wahine ariki, and those of third rank as kahurangi, With many
tapairu betokened the first-born female of a family of rank. Among the Matatua tribes ariki, ihorei and taupoki seem to be synonymous terms, as applied to important chiefs.
In many cases the ariki was also a high-class tohunga, a priestly expert, and learned in tribal lore. He would also be viewed as a taumata or resting place of the gods. Only a highly-placed priest could cut the hair of an ariki, hence when no suitable person was at hand such a man might go barberless until his hair became matted and his head exceedingly dirty. Excessive tapu had some unpleasant draw-backs.
The peculiar disposition and qualities of the Maori folk did not make for cohesion outside tribal limits, hence there has never been a Maori nation, or a Polynesian nation. The Maori lived much the same life as did the Scotch and Irish in former times, and that tribal mode of life seemed to suit the people passing well. Certainly the Maori made no attempt to combine the many tribal units into anything resembling a nation.
An old native of the Wairarapa district explained to us a custom of electing an ariki from the male members of a high-class family that was probably local; it certainly did not obtain in many districts. This explanation is as follows:—
Here Ropata and Heeni, both members of well-born families, marry and have a family of five children, four males and one female. Pape is the matamua or first-born. Hare is his taina (younger brother), as also are Kere and Teone, but Hare is a tuakana (elder brother) of Kere and Teone, as also is Pape. Tini is the tuahine (sister) of the four boys; she is the tauhine taina of Pape and Hare, and tuahine tuakana of Kere and Teone. Pape and Hare are the tungane tuakana of Tini (tungane denoting the brother of a female, and tuahine the sister of a male), while Kere and Teone are her tungane taina. Teone is the taina whakapakanga of the
tungane whakapakanga of Tini, the final word of the title meaning the last-born. The term potiki is also applied to Teone, as being the last-born. Hare, Tini, Kere and Teone are collectively the tatao of Pape.
The question of a leader or ariki arises. Should it be seen that Pape is an intelligent, capable person, endowed with desirable qualities, generosity, hospitality, and so forth, a man capable of administering affairs, then his people will desire that he be accepted as an ariki for the community, for the whanau and the clans of his parents. This decision would be made known. If accepted by the groups mentioned, then Pape would be appointed ariki matamua of such groups, and would possess a considerable amount of mana in the conduct of affairs. His would be the principal word with regard to warlike forays, the making of peace, and other important functions. Any person endeavouring to thwart or belittle him without just cause would be held guilty of an act of takahi mana. This expression denotes a violation or disregarding of prestige, authority. So long as the ariki acted in a wise and desirable manner the people would be loyal to him, and defer to him in many ways. He would receive many contributions of food supplies, and, should he desire a large quantity of such for some special purpose, as a large meeting, then the people would readily fall in with his wishes.
Now, under this system, Pape would not only be endowed with the inherent mana of his position as matamua, or first-born, but would acquire certain mana from the fact of his being selected as a leader. Should, however, the people bestow the mana ariki on Hare, then Hare would be known as the upoko ariki, while Pape retained the position as elder, as matamua and tuakana. Again the mana ariki might be bestowed upon one of the younger males.
Should the people decide that Tini be accepted as a kahurangi, then the mana of that title descends upon her. This is a title bestowed upon a daughter of parents of the momo rangatira, or well-born class; it is assigned to one approved of by the people, who will treat her with much deference. Such a respected, one might say petted, female, was termed a puhi among the Matatua tribes of the Bay of
In the above account we see that the ariki was appointed, though it was necessary that he should be of a high-class family. As a rule, however, the eldest son of such a family of each generation automatically became the leader. We do hear, occasionally, of elder sons of little moment being replaced by an able younger brother. Local differences, such as the above, are often encountered when enquiring into native usages.
The aho ariki, or first-born line of descent, was revered by the Maori, and such lines were sometimes recited in ritual formulæ. Those ariki in whom met the greatest number of important lines of descent held superior mana; they were tino ariki. The number of whanau under an ariki also entered into the matter of his influence, but still an ariki is the matamua of high-class families in most cases, and there is no higher rank in Maoridom. Fanciful titles referred to were additional ones, but did not betoken a higher position by right of birth, that was impossible.
The scheme of six classes of Maori society given in Dr. Thomson's work, is quite impossible. The Rev. tohunga occupied very different positions. The Rev. Mr. Buller mentions three classes—the well-born rangatira, the commoners, and the slaves.
Theoretically one might reduce all members of a Maori tribe to one class, that of rangatira. Slaves were not members of the tribe, and no Maori would admit himself to be a tutua, or low-born person; in fact, any native can show pretty close connection with at least one family of good position. In practice, however, a difference does appear. The ordinary social life of any native community of any size shows certain families occupying a superior status to that held by others; this much is undeniable.
Let us take the case of a tino ariki, the first-born male of the elder branch of the most important family of a community. Such a man would always travel with a retinue of
Our important ariki would be well and faithfully guarded by his people, who would reck little of losing life in his defence. If his people were hard pressed, a party of them would convey the ariki to some safe place, if it could possibly be done. When the noted chief Te Kani-a-Takirau was a child, he chanced to be living in a fortified village at Te Mahia that was attacked by a raiding force. A party of the besieged slipped away with the child, who was carried by one Kauhu. A chief named Potiki, of the enemy force, saw and pursued the fugitives with a party of Ngati-Maru. Potiki overtook Kauhu, and raised his tomahawk to slay man and child, when Kauhu said: “Sir! Slay me not with that common weapon. Rather kill me with this, a chief's weapon, that I may feel the blow softly.” At the same time he handed to Potiki the famous and highly-prized greenstone weapon named Te Heketua. Potiki was equal to the occasion. He gave to Kauhu his own weapon, saying: “It is well. Take this in exchange, and hasten to save your child.” So Kauhu departed in peace with his charge. Such is the story of the escape of Te Kani about a hundred years ago, as related to me by old Rewi Rangi-amio, when I was camped under the shadow of Tawhiuau, in 1895.
I have heard natives stoutly maintain that only men of good birth can be gallant fighters. One sees many evidences of such aristocratic leanings, such respect for good birth, among our native folk.
When we formed the pioneer road through the forest ranges of the Tuhoe district in the “nineties,” a considerable number of the natives joined the working force as bush fellers and excavators. Among them was the principal man of the district, the matamua of the aho ariki. The natives held a meeting over the matter, and decided that it was not seemly that their head man should engage in such labour. This decision was made known to him, and he at once withdrew from the work in deference to the desire of his people.
It occasionally happened that a well-born woman attained a high position in a tribe, owing to special qualities of mind and heart. Thus Hine-matioro, grandmother of Te Kani, mentioned above, was the most important person of the Ngati-Porou tribe in her time. Her fame indeed spread afar, and tribal enemies asking for mercy in her name were spared. The feeling of her tribesmen towards her was little short of reverence.
The pride of family and tribal pride that were so characteristic of the Maori assuredly had a good effect in some ways. Such feelings made for loyalty to whanau, clan and tribe, for a sense of responsibility and duty to the community. In his preservation of family records the Maori did good service.
An important chief often spoke of himself and his people as “us two.” Thus in travelling, when the party had sat down to rest, and it was time to move on again, he would say: “Korikori taua, ka taka tauira” (Let us two be moving, the sun is sinking).
The affairs of a whanau were managed, not by the chief alone, or in conjunction with a few of the oldest or most prominent men, for every free man had a right to speak during any meeting. Such matters were arranged by means of public discussion. Whenever any movement was on foot to engage in any activity, a public meeting and discussion would arrange the procedure. In the case of any action extending outside the sphere of the group, then a meeting of the clan (hapu) would
In his “Story of New Zealand,” Dr. Thomson divides the Maori folk into eighteen “nations.” Now this is much too important a title to confer on these native tribes, and reminds one of the absurd title of “king” sometimes applied to chiefs of Polynesian isles. The number given by Thomson represents the more important of the tribes, besides which there were always some small tribal communities that led a somewhat precarious existence. In some cases these tribelets continued to exist by remaining friends with a more powerful tribe unit; in others they lived in a state of vassalage.
There was a certain amount of intercourse between tribes in former times, but such a state of things was always liable to interruption by way of quarrels and warfare, which consisted of a series of forays. Occasional inter-marriages between different tribes would call for ceremonial feasts attended by both, and would result in widespread relationship, such as only an expert could remember. Barter also led to a certain amount of intercourse; for instance, natives of the North Island occasionally made expeditions by canoe to the South Island in order to obtain greenstone wherefrom to fashion implements and ornaments.
One peculiar custom of Maoriland reminds one of present-day industrial methods, viz., the custom of punishing a third and innocent party. Take the case of a numerically weak tribe dwelling in a state of vassalage. The lot of such people was not a hard one, as a rule; they were supposed to convey presents of food supplies occasionally to their over-lords, who would assist them if attacked, in many cases. But should the superior tribe wish to slay a man as a human sacrifice, or merely to give distinction to some function, then the hapless subject people would probably have to provide the man. Again, should another tribe wish to attack the over-lords, but have some doubt about its ability to carry the matter through, the result might be an attack on the subject tribe. These hapless folks would do all the suffering. The raid might or might not lead to reprisals on the part of the overlords; in many cases it did so.
It sometimes occurred that, when a woman married out of her own tribe, and had a family, she would send one, possibly more, of her sons to dwell with her own tribe, and so the connection would be kept “warm.”
Tribal loyalty was a very marked characteristic of the Maori folk. Their sense of duty to the tribe was paramount, but under certain circumstances a Maori was liable to do very extraordinary things when in a condition of injured pride, and what is termed whakamomori. This expression denotes a condition of desperation; thus suicide is so termed, as also any act of desperate valour in fighting. We will suppose that a man has been captured by an enemy force, and so enslaved, a terrible calamity to the proud Maori warrior. Now that man would probably be consumed by a fierce determination to get even with Fate, to make some one suffer. Thus there are a number of cases on record in which such men have acted as guides to enable the enemy to attack their own friends. Truly some traits of Maori character are of a strange nature.
With regard to military duty there was no question of conscription, or even of volunteering for active service in the Maori commune. Every able-bodied man was a fighting man as a matter of course; he stepped into the ranks as a fighter just as he went fishing, bird trapping, or working among the crops, that is, as a part of the day's work. A communistic state doubtless has its disadvantages, but it is suitable to certain culture grades, and was so in the case of the Maori. There was no wild talk about reducing all men to a common level, for the Maori knew better than to attempt such a mode of life. With all the communistic practices of Maori life, he remained an aristocrat to the end in his faith in the system of primogeniture and the superior qualities of persons of superior birth.
One often hears natives speaking of the tokens of chieftainship. East coast natives always quote a saying of their famous ancestor, Taha-rakau, he who said: “The sign of chieftainship is a well-built, superior house situated within a stockaded village, while the token of the commoner is a house situated in the open, which will sooner or later be destroyed by enemies.” Others say that the tokens of chieftainship are the possession of a house adorned with carved work, a greenstone
mere (weapon), a superior elevated storehouse, and a superior canoe.
Particular stress must be laid on the power of public opinion in the Maori commune. It was a peculiarly strong force in the preservation of order, in the attitude of a person towards his neighbours, and in the upholding of a strong sense of duty. The effect of a communal life was such that it was practically impossible for a person to ignore this force.
We will now discuss what is perhaps the most interesting aspect of the social life of the Maori, and that is the absence of civil law. This corrective power, as we know it, was lacking in the Maori social system, and yet social life was well ordered and the people lived in amity as a rule. Certain scenes of turbulence witnessed occasionally were often really part of the forces that replaced civil law. The forces that controlled the social system were the institution of tapu, public opinion, the influence of respected chiefs, and, to some extent, the custom of muru. Some other usages had a minor effect in preserving order. Some may be said to have had a double effect, such as the practice of magic. Now the institutions of tapu and magic, as also the mana of superior chiefs, were most effective
ariki who possessed mana atua in addition to other phases of that quality, was a very influential person. People did not transgress the laws of tapu, simply because they firmly believed that the punishment of the gods would be swift and certain. They were careful to cultivate hospitality, courtesy, and other virtues, lest the shafts of black magic be levelled against them. Thus it might be said that, in a Maori community, government of the people was of a somewhat theocratic nature.
There is yet something to be explained in this mental attitude of the Maori toward his gods. Fear of their anger kept him in the straight path. But why? We know that, among our western folk, fear of divine wrath has little effect in preserving order, that without civil law no community could exist in harmony. Belief in future punishment in a vague spirit world, a belief that is surely passing away, is not sufficient to control us. The dreadful teachings of Christian priesthoods concerning the horrors of hell in the past are now openly derided by many people, and, though such teachings terrorised men in the past, they had little effect in the way of moral improvement, and they could not replace civil law. Why did such a different state of affairs exist in a Maori community? The answer to that query can be given in one brief sentence. It was on account of the belief that wrongdoing, an offence against the gods, is punished in this world, not in the spirit world. Moreover, it was firmly believed that such punishment was not delayed, but came swift and certain.
In the state of things here described we can see that it was what we call superstition that was the backbone of the Maori social system, that preserved order in the community. But that superstition was but faith in his gods, and were we controlled by a similar power, we would term it, not superstition, but religion. It was the faith in immediate punishment by the gods for wrongdoing that rendered the system so effective in Maoriland. We rely on our civil law, on moral law, on padlocks and policemen to protect our property, but a shred of flax attached by a Maori to his door, a lock of hair suspended
Now here is a point on which, presumptious as it may appear, the present writer is compelled to join issue with the giant Tylor. That eminent anthropologist has told us that among the lower races: “Religion, mostly concerned with propitiating souls of ancestors, and spirits of nature, has not the strong moral influence it exerts among higher nations; indeed, their behaviour to their fellows is little affected by divine command, or fear of divine punishment.” Now, with regard to the latter part of this dictum I cannot agree with the learned author. Among the Polynesians, including our Maori folk of New Zealand, fear of divine punishment was the very strongest deterrent force, and the key of social discipline. It was the power that held society together, and curbed a naturally strong-minded and somewhat turbulent people. The propitiation of ancestral spirits, and personified forms of natural phenomena, represents a different phase of the racial religion.
The faith of the Maori in his gods had a certain moral effect on him, as is shown elsewhere in this chronicle, and this restraining influence was abolished when early missionaries persuaded the natives to adopt Christianity. Even the terrors of the burning lake had not the effect that the swift, sure punishment of the old Maori gods had. The habitual presence of the latter was more effective than the prospect of punishment in a future life. Missionary folk will not accept these statements, but he who truly knows the Maori knows their truth. I can but say, as did the Maori of yore, when he made a statement that he thought might arouse opposition: “Werohia ki au!” (Assail me)
Of the substitutes for civil law enumerated above, those of tapu, makutu or magic, public opinion, and the influence of respected chieftains, are already disposed of. Remains the subject of muru to discuss. This institution was a very strange one, and many illustrations of it are incomprehensible to Europeans. The world muru means to plunder, and it represents a form of punishment that consisted of robbing a person of his property. Possibly we might here employ the
muru party, bent on such a raid, seems to have been viewed as something of an honour by the sufferer, at least on some occasions, as showing that he must be a person of some importance.
A newly married couple were plundered in some cases. A man might be so plundered if he met with an accident, the reason being that he had deprived the community of his services. The death of a man might call for a taua muru or plundering party against his friends; they were to blame for letting him die. The expression taua muru denotes one of these corrective robbing parties. In olden days such a party acted in a rough manner with well simulated ferocity, and sometimes persons were injured in rough and tumble struggles for some coveted article. The mode of action was a wild rush of yelling, highly excited savages, who overran the premises and carried off anything portable that seemed desirable. Any crops in an edible stage were dug up and carried off. These plundering feats were very much enjoyed by the people; that is to say, by those who did the plundering, while the plundered ones had to submit with the best grace they could muster.
I remember travelling with a taua muru in the interior long years ago, and hearing its members discussing with much interest the goods they expected to obtain. One was very anxious to get an early start and relieve the coming sufferer of a new double-barreled fowling piece he possessed. That muru episode was a pronounced success and was, moreover, an exciting and interesting sight. In later years such parties seem to have abandoned the rough methods of former days, and to have adopted a new mode of demanding an equivalent or fine for the wrong committed. A funeral party proceeding to a distant village called at a settlement where I chanced to be. One of the children at this place had been greviously ill-treated
marae, or village plaza, the local people were assembled there to meet them. At the head of the party of travellers walked a woman carrying a stick in her hand. She walked up to the father of the child and belaboured him with that stick, while he made no resistance. The travellers then demanded “payment” for the assault committed on the child by a person of another clan. The fine was produced and piled on the plaza, to be taken away by the visitors, who had formed themselves into a taua muru while travelling as a funeral party carrying the body of a child to the home of its parents. The goods handed over consisted of five guns, two rolls of print, some new garments, greenstone ornaments, one horse, and five shillings in silver, the monetary wealth of the family group.
The ways of muru are passing strange, and in many cases one cannot possibly apply the term evil doer to the sufferers. It was sufficient to either commit or suffer some act that might affect the welfare of the community in some way to call forth the activities of a taua muru.
Perhaps women have been the cause of more muru raids than anything else in cases that have come within my own observation. In olden days it sometimes occurred that, when a married woman misbehaved herself, her relatives would hand over a piece of land to settle the matter. If a married woman eloped with another man, then her hapless husband would be plundered; he should have prevented the escapade. Thus it was that the Maori obtained damages when he considered that the welfare of the community had suffered, or a wrong act committed. Now should one of us have the misfortune to break a leg, or meet with some other serious accident, the act of fining him for the “offence” would be considered a most improper procedure; yet it was a Maori custom. Their point of view is as follows—that man is not an independent unit, the individual does not exist, he is part of a tribe and he has injured the tribe by being laid up and so rendering himself incapable of working or fighting—clearly he should be punished.
The subject of filiation may be briefly disposed of. Agnatic filiation was the more highly valued by the Maori, and the male sex generally was considered superior to the female. The male sex is of divine origin, it originated with the primal parents Sky and Earth, whereas woman is of earthly origin, sprung from the Earth Formed Maid. Hence the ara tamatane, or male line of descent, possesses greater mana than the ara tamawahine, or female line. Yet this inherent superiority of the male must not be too much stressed, inasumch as women of rank occupied quite an important position. Given necessary mental and social qualities, such women were enabled to wield a considerable amount of influence. The tapairu and kahurangi, already alluded to, were treated with deference by the people, and in some cases were made a great deal of, as in the case of puhi. Consanguineous relationship and rank are reckoned through both sides of the house, and property, such as land, is transmitted in a similar manner. In the Native Land Courts a Maori claims land through both parents, and the task of defining the ownership of native lands is one for a Solomon. It may be said that both lines of descent transmitted rank, property, and prestige, but the male line was yet more favoured than the female. We have noticed that the aho ariki and aho tapairu, first-born male and female lines of descent of high-class families, carried much inherent mana.
A Maori community lacked family life as we know it. The social organisation, the communistic habits of the people, were against such a condition. The whare puni, or sleeping houses, might contain several families. The ordinary terms for father and mother are applied also to uncles and aunts, while those denoting brother and sister also include cousins. A man will style his nephews and nieces “my children,” and so on. Parents do not enjoy sole authority over their children; a childless relative will generally adopt one at least of a related family. Marriages are arranged more by the whanau, often by uncles and aunts, than by the parents. The Maori family is not a self-contained, cohesive unit.
For some unknown reason the fair-skinned type with reddish hair, occasionally seen among the natives, was much favoured in former times. This peculiar type is traced, in Maori myth, to the Wind Children, the personified forms of
uru ariki, hair betokening aristocratic descent, and urukehu. In central Polynesia such reddish haired persons are called the fair-haired offspring of Tangaroa. This strain is a very old one; a family of my acquaintance traces it back for twenty-three generations. It sometimes misses a generation, but is very persistent. The Maori is a firm believer in heredity, in the transmission of qualities and peculiarities down the changing centuries, and this faith is closely connected with his advocacy of primogeniture.
The remark made by Dieffenbach that Maori society is divided into castes is not a happy one, for it carries memories of the iron-bound conditions of the social castes of India. No such sharply drawn lines existed in Maoriland.
The following list contains the various terms denoting relationship, etc., though the whole of them are not in use in any one district, and a few of them are seldom heard:—
mātua
mokopuna tuarua = great grandchildhuatahi
Cf. tipuna
tamariki
Tiaka = dam, mother)tuāhine
tuākaua
tūpuna
There is no precise term in Maori to denote the true family, that is, including parents and their children. This fact illustrates the importance of the family group, the true social unit.
The following short table will serve wherewith to illustrate some of the usages of consanguineous nomenclature.
Tura took Pare to wife and begat Rangi, Hine, Kahu, Waru, and Marie. Of these Rangi is the matamua or firstborn, and Marie the whakapakanga or last-born. If a family of high rank, Rangi will be termed the ariki. Hine, Kahu, Waru and Marie are collectively the tatao of Rangi.
Tura would speak of Rangi and his tatao as “Aku tamariki” (My children) while they were yet young. When grown up, when the sons could hapai rakau (bear arms) and the girls old enough to marry, he would alude to them as “Taku whanau” (My offspring). Tura would call Here, Piki and Tuna, etc., “Aku mokopuna” (My grandchildren), as also does Pare. Rangi and his tatao style Tura their papa (father), or matua tane (male parent); but to be precise would call him their papara (true father), for uncles are also termed papa. They call Pare their whaea (mother), or kokara (true mother), for whaea is also applied to aunts.
Rangi calls Mata his hoa, or wahine, or hoa wahine (wife), Hine and Marie his tuāhine (tuăhine in the singular), and Kahu and Waru his taina. Piki, Whata and Tuna are his irāmutu. Hine calls Rangi, Kahu and Waru her tungane, and Marie her taina. Here Patu and Tuna are her iramutu. Kahu calls Rangi his tuakana, Waru his taina, and Hine and Marie his tuahine. A nephew is iramutu tane (male iramutu), and a niece iramutu wahine (female iramutu) when precision is needed.
Marie calls Hine her tuakana. Here and Patu style Piki, Whata and Tuna their turanga whanau, but this term denoting cousinship is continued for generations. Here, Patu, Piki, Whata and Tuna call Tura and Pare their tūpuna. In some districts they would call Pare their kuia. Here andt Patu would call Kahu and Waru their papa, or papa keke, or matua keke, and Hine and Marie their whaea.
Rangi, Kahu, Waru and Marie would often allude to Piki and Whata as “Aku tamariki” (My children). The descendants of Pare would allude to the descendants of the younger sisters of Pare as “Aku taina turanga whanau,” and of the descendants of the elder sisters of Pare as “Aku tuakana turanga whanau,” as implying the younger and elder branches of the cousinship. The same remarks apply to the descendants of Tura.
Piki and Tuna might allude to Patu as their tuakana because he belongs to the elder branch. In like manner Patu would call Piki and Tuna his taina, because they belong to the younger branch. To be precise he would say “My taina turanga whanau,” as Piki and Tuna would say “My tuakana turanga whanau,” (My cousin of the elder branch). If Tura had married an iramutu of his, as in a case I wot of, then Piki, Whata and Tuna would call the children of Rangi their tuakana iramutu, while Here and Patu would call them (Piki, etc.) taina iramutu.
The terms tuakana and taina can be employed for all time so long as a common ancestor can be traced. Thus a descendant of, say Maro, who flourished twenty generations ago, might allude to the descendants of a younger brother of Maro as “My taina whanaunga,” and to those of an elder brother of Maro as “My tuakana whanaunga.” The last word is used because the relationship is a distant one.
When Rangi speaks of, say Piki and Whata as “My tamariki,” one might enquire “Nau ake?” (Your own?), whereupon he would reply: “E, kao, na taku tuahine” (Oh no, my sister's).
A man calls his sister “My tuahine,” but if he wishes to denote that she is the younger, he will say “My taina tuahine.” Of his elder sister he would say “My tuakana tuahine.” A woman would call a brother older than herself tuakana tungane, and one younger taina tungane.
One might continue almost idenfinitely to discuss Maori terms of relationship, but of a verity that way distraction lies, and the present writer is nothing if not merciful. When we see such apparently contradictory expressions as tuakana taina and tuakana papa looming ahead of us it is high time to desist.
The expression mokopuna tauwhara is employed to denote descendants from the second generation, that is great grand-children and their descendants.
We have already seen that tribal and clan names are, in most cases, formed by prefixing Ngati, Ngai, or Ati (offspring, descendants) to the name of the eponymic ancestor. Thus the descendants of Tura and Pare (see table above) would, after about the third generation, probably assume the
clan name of Ngati-Tura. In a few cases clans have been named after women. The term aitanga (progeny) is occasionally employed in tribal or clan (hapū) names, as Te Aitanga a Hauiti; also the term whanau (offspring, family group), as Te Whanau a Taupara (the offspring of Taupara).
Concerning personal nomenclature there is not a great deal to say. The Maori did not have distinct names for males and females as we have. Names commencing with Pare are usually given to females only, and those commencing with Rangi more often pertain to males. Names commencing with Hine are those of females, because hine means “girl,” and
tama denotes a son. Further than this the Maori did not proceed in the assigning of distinctive names to the two sexes.
Peculiar personal names are encountered among the Maori folk, owing to the practice of naming persons after conditions, incidents, etc. It was a not uncommon practice for people to change their names at the death of a relative. One would probably assume as a name that of the last food partaken of by the defunct relative. Such food is termed o matenga, (food for the journey of death—o means “provisions for a journey”). I once encountered a young person named Te O-arani whose name puzzled me until I found that it was mostly English. That woman was so named because the last food taken by a dying relative was an orange, pronounced arani by the Maori. Hence Te O-arani (the orange death journey food). Another woman named Pua-wananga told me that she was so named from the fact that her father drank a decoction made from pua wananga (a species of clematis) as a medicine just prior to his death. My old friend Hatata changed his name to Kuku (mussel) because a relative had eaten some mussels as his o matenga. te (the) and the English word log as pronounced by natives. This changing of names is often very confusing, as also is the lack of surnames among natives.
In some cases what may be termed baby names were given to infants, which would give place to another name after the
tapu name for a brief period, until the Tua rite was performed over the child, when it would probably be abandoned, and a more permanent one assigned. Such customs, however, often varied as in different districts. A tapu names was often somewhat of a nuisance, and also a danger, to the people of a community. In this wise: Should any word of vernacular speech enter into the name, then such word would become tapu and so could not be employed in its proper sense, but only as the name of the child. Should any person use it in its ordinary sense then that person would be severely dealt with for insulting the child. We are told that persons have been killed for this offence. This embargo meant that another word must be sought to take the place of the banned word. If no synonym were available, then a new word would be coined. Names of important chiefs were sometimes honoured in a similar manner.
The topographical nomenclature of the Maori is a subject that has interested many dwellers in these isles. Natives were generous in their bestowal of place names, and almost every hill, vale, stream and point had its proper name. Even in unoccupied forest country every range and stream is named, as also other features. Many places were named after persons, others from some natural feature, and many from incidents. In cases where places were named after persons it was not unusual to prefix such a name with the possessive o, as in Ohinemutu.
A considerable number of our place names have been introduced hither from Polynesia, a common practice among the natives of that region. Such are the mountain names of Hikurangi, Aorangi and Maungaroa. Some of these introduced names betray their origin, as Opotiki-mai-Tawhiti (Opotiki from Tawhiti), and Te Mahia-mai-Tawhiti. Such long names are abbreviated for daily use. One such cumbrous name is Te Koiritanga o te auahi o nga pirita o te kupenga a Pawa, which it cut down to Te Koiritanga. Some of our place names hail from the original home of the Maori, wherever that may have been. Such are Taranaki, Rangiatea, Hikurangi, Tapu-te-ranga, etc.
Many attempts are made by Europeans to assign a meaning to native place names, a most risky procedure. In many cases one must know how and why the place was named, and the origin of many names has been preserved in tradition. It is assuredly a fact that all place names given by the Maori have a meaning of some kind, sometimes a secondary one, as in cases where a place was named after a person.
Only the unwise attempt to translate a native place name lacking the evidence of native tradition. In the first place vowel quantities are of great importance. Take the name Waikaka for example. This name is composed of two words, wai and kaka. To begin with, wai has ten different meanings, while kaka has four forms—kākā, kăkă, kūkă, and kăkā, of which the second has six meanings, the others a lesser number. Now who would assign a meaning to Waikaka without dependable evidence?
In floral nomenclature we find that the Maori wrought well, and he had names for all trees and shrubs, and for most small plants. Every fern seems to have its proper name, and truly these isles are the very home of ferns. Cheeseman's Flora gives thirty-one genera of the order of Filices, while the species are as leaves in the vale of Vallombrosa.
The Maori had names for all land birds, and certainly most sea birds. His naming of insects was apparently not so complete, and in naming stones he did not show to such advantage as in other departments. Still he had names for all kinds of stone that were utilised by him in any way.
The Maori had assuredly a passion for naming things, his houses, food stores, store pits, canoes, fishing grounds, etc., all received proper names, as also in many cases did his weapons, garments, musical instruments, fishing gear, toys, tools, etc.
Social intercourse among the Maori folk was marked by courtesy and by punctiliousness, the latter being most marked in social gatherings of a clan or tribe, when the affairs of the community were discussed in a series of speeches.
Terms of address used in greetings are as follows:—
To young folk of both sexes:—“
E hika!” All these greetings are preceded by the vocative E, equivalent to “O.”To a girl: “
E ko!” or “E hine!”E Ta!”E tama!”E kare!”E koro!”E pa!”papa = father.E hoa!”E whae!”Cf. whaea = mother.E kui!”Kuia = old woman.E pou!”Poua = old person.E weke!”E nehe!”Nehe = olden times, etc.E kara!”E mara!”E rangi!”
The late Colonel Gudgeon has recorded taua as a title and form of address signifying high respect, apparently applied to men only.
The plural form of these expressions is formed by adding the word ma to them, as “E hoa ma!” (“O friends!”). The expression “E tama aku” is equivalent to “O my lad,” and “E hine aku” to “O my girl.” Or “son” and “daughter” might be inserted for “lad” and “girl.”
Greetings are as follows:—To one person “Tena koe” (equivalent to “There you are” or “That is you”); to two persons “Tena korua”; to three or more persons “Tena koutou.” These are to either sex, that being sometimes denoted in the following words as “Tena korua, e whae ma” (There you two are, O dames). The salutation is equivalent to “Greetings,” hence “Tena koutou, E hoa ma” (“Greetings, O friends”).
When farewelling a person the cry is “Haere ra” (“Go” or “Go forth”) and “Haere ra, E hoa” is equal to “Go forth, O friend,” or “Depart, O friend.” The person so leaving will say: “E noho ra” (“Remain”), or “Hei kona ra.” Other forms of greeting are “Ina na” and “Ina ano
koe,” bearing much the same meaning as “Tena koe.” Then there is the cry of “Welcome!” as “Haere mai!” and “Naumai!” Haramai is a variant form of haere mai. In greeting persons of a family of rank a number of complimentary expressions were formerly employed. For instance, should the greeted one be a young man of ariki rank he might be greeted thus: “Haramai, E tama! Te urutapu o nga ariki!” If a young woman of good family: “Naumai, E hine! Te urutapu o nga kahurangi. Haramai!” The word urutapu carries the meaning of “chaste, pure,” perhaps also of “exalted.”
We will suppose that a party of strangers arrives at a village. The chief man of the village will address the party thus: “Haere mai, E te ururangi! Na wai taua?” This is a long-drawn, intoned cry, euphonious and striking; it acknowledges a common descent from the primal parents, but asks for further information in its concluding words—From whom are we—descended understood. The principal man of the visitors will reply in the same tone: “Na Rangi taua, na Tuanuku e takoto nei; ko ahau tenei, ko Mea a Mea.” (We are both from Rangi and Tuanuku (Sky Parent and Earth Mother). It is I, So-and-so, offspring of So-and-so). He would thus make himself known, and particulars of descent would be discussed later.
It was not a part of Maori etiquette to make any demonstration when a friend was leaving; tears and other forms of greeting were for incoming visitors. If a person is leaving, any person farewelling him who intends to follow him are long will say “Hoatu” or “Hoake” instead of “Haere ra.” The former expressions mean “Go on.”
One often notes peculiar forms of greeting in natives' letters. Some time ago I received a letter from an old friend that commenced as follows: “O friend! Greeting to you the canoe fastening post, the cynosure of the eyes of those who have departed to the spirit world.” Another is the following: “To Peehi. E pa! Greetings to you, the semblance of the men of yore. Your letter containing the wisdom of the ancients has arrived, their wise words sent resounding across the waves of the ocean by you. These have come to land,
In addressing a person by name a native will repeat the first part only of such name, unless it be a short one. Thus in addressing one Whare-kotua, he would say “E Whare!” If the name was Pa-moana he would say: “E Pa!” A man named Tapuke is always addressed as “E Puke!” instead of “E Ta!” because the vowel “a” of the first syllable is short, which renders the syllable an awkward one for such usage.
Native children often speak of, or address their parents by name, which sounds odd in European ears. Imagine an English child addressing his mother as “O Mary!”
A chief, in speaking directly to his people, will often use the expression taua (We two); in speaking of them and himself to a third person he will say Ngai-maua, again using the dual form instead of the plural. There are three numbers in Maori.
Honorific expressions were, and are, commonly employed by the Maori. They are often encountered in song, as in laments. A mother, in lamenting the death of a son, will speak of him as “Taku mahuri totara” (my totara sapling), the totara being a fine forest tree of superlative qualities. She will also speak of a loved child as “my greenstone ear drop,” or of her baby as her scented sachet. A chief might be alluded to as a white hawk (a rara avis), or as a white heron. A number of well-born persons may be described as a kahui tara, a flock of tara, a sea bird; many similar expressions are met with.
It has already been explained that the marae of a native village is the plaza or village square. Inasmuch as visitors were received at such places, the term marae came to be used in various senses, as it took the place of our town hall. It was not only the place of reception, but public meetings of the community were often held thereon, and the large house in which visitors were accommodated would face the plaza. As it was the place of entertainment the word marae has come to be used as an adjective, meaning generous; a wahine marae is a generous woman. Marae rangatira is an expression denoting a village where a powerful and kindly chief receives the oppressed, and is respected for his ability and other good
marae was sometimes called tahua, while marae-roa and tahua-roa were both terms applied to the ocean, as denoting a great expanse; hence the full name of Rongo, which is Rongo-marae-roa.
As in all communal societies hospitality was, in Maoriland, a prominent and admired virtue, indeed it was a necessity. The rule was always to invite passers-by to share a meal, however poor it might be. Though one might have little to give, yet the waha pa, the “heard voice,” inviting the traveller, will save the face of the inviter.
The term waharoa was applied as an honorific expression to a hospitable woman. A generous, tactful woman who managed her side of domestic affairs well was highly esteemed. She would be commended in such phrases as: “Kai te wahine a Mea he waharoa” (The wife of So-and-so is very hospitable); or “Te wahine a Mea he aumihi tangata” (The wife of So-and-so always welcomes people).
When a woman married outside her own clan, she would, if childless, have no mana over the lands of her husband. But if she had children she would gain a certain amount of such mana as the parent of her children, albeit she herself would have no claim to such lands. Although childless, however, she would possess mana marae, that is the authority to exercise hospitality to travellers on her own initiative. When that woman had been brought to her new home, her husband would say to her: “I hereby endow you with the powers and privileges of the waharoa, the marae, and rauhi tangata.” This meant that he gave her authority to invite guests and to dispense hospitality in their name. The wife would then enquire: “Where is the house, the storehouse and the pit?” Thus she enquired as to what house was to be used for the accommodation of guests, the location of the elevated storehouse in which food supplies other than root crops were kept, and of the pit in which the latter were stored. Her next question would be: “Where is the maru tangata?” meaning that she wished to know what people were to be invited, or viewed as desirable guests. The wife would thereafter often conduct arrangements for inviting and entertaining guests, while the welcoming and speech-making would be attended to by her husband.
The reception of guests, even of a travelling party not specially invited previously, was conducted in a punctilious manner, but in a manner that is very irksome to Europeans. This custom still lives to some extent. Much talking is done ere visitors receive a meal and can settle down in peace and quietness.
I have known a party of visitors that arrived near their destination late in the day to camp for the night so as to enter the village next morning before breakfast, for convenience, so that plenty of time would be available for the reception function. Although camped close to the village neither party would take any notice of the other in the way of greetings, though a present of food might be sent to the travellers. Prior to entering the village the visitors would adorn themselves with any superior garments and ornaments they might have brought with them, and which would be carried on the back in the form of a bundle or pack (pikau or kawenga) while on the march. In late times they have taken very kindly to the use of horses.
The party would march on to the marae of the village in a loose column, not in ordered ranks, the principal personages usually in front. The party would be challenged by the village folk. Just before reaching the marae, the wero, or challenger, in scant attire, and armed with a spear, would dart from a place of concealment and challenge the ope, or party. He would go through an acrobatic performance of whakapi, or pikari, making gestures of defiance and an amazing series of ugly faces. In this case the spear was not thrown at the visitors, but laid on the ground before them, when the challenger would retire. In modern times guns have been used by the challengers. A man armed with a double-barrelled gun would dance grimacing up to the head of the marching column, fire his two shots right and left, and then retire. The column takes not the slightest notice of this performance. Personally I do not enjoy these peculiar welcoming ceremonies. I have marched into a village with a band of visitors when a concealed party of armed villagers would fire a volley, their guns aimed just over our heads. As is well known, modesty is a marked characteristic of collectors of ethnographical data, and I often yearned to retire to the rear of
During this advance the villagers have been vociferously welcoming the visitors. In this function the old women take prominent place. With green branches, or perhaps an old garment in their hands they wave a welcome, and cry welcome to the visitors in loud tones:—“Welcome! Welcome! Welcome! Welcome to the visitors from afar. 'Twas my child who fetched you from far horizons and conducted you hither. Welcome! Welcome! Welcome!” Some of these welcoming recitals are rendered in the vigorous and rhythmic manner of a haka, of which more anon.
In some cases a person of the village will call out: “Whence come ye?” whereupon one of the visitors will reply: “I come from Tawhiti-nui, from Tawhiti-roa, from Tawhiti-pamamao.” These are names of lands far away beneath the setting sun, near unto the old homeland of the race. Folk of the Arawa tribe would sometimes reply: “I come from Kapua-nui, from Kapua-roa, from Kapua-wananga.” These names I cannot explain. Kapua means a cloud in vernacular speech, but may not carry that meaning in this case. Again there were ritual recitations, or formulæ of a superior type, couched in fine language, that were chanted or intoned by a leading man of the villagers to visitors of rank. The tenor of these compositions was complimentary and of a welcoming nature. A most punctilious people on such occasions were the denizens of Aotea-roa. An old native told me that, when he was taught these formulæ in his youth, his old teacher said to him: “Be careful to retain these treasured recitations of your ancestors. They and your elders prized them highly. And ever bear in mind that Kindness to man is the most important of all things. I charge you to be strenuous in observing these precepts.”
Our party of visitors would march slowly and silently across the plaza until it arrived in front of the villagers grouped in front of the guest house. Then the visitors halted, and the two groups faced each other. Then commenced the tangi or tangihanga, the mournful weeping and wailing always a feature of such meetings. Your Maori weeps and wails over
aroarowhaki, make up a weird scene. The action alluded to is a peculiar one, consisting of extending the arms and causing the hands to quiver rapidly, the body being bent forward.
At last the mourners, as one might call them, break off one after another and enter the house allotted to them, or seat themselves in the porch. The next activity would be the speech making, and this also often continued for some time, possibly for two hours. The villagers would now be grouped on the plaza, and the visitors in the porch of the house, and possibly some inside it. The villagers would welcome the visitors, man after man coming forward to make each his speech of greeting, which speeches would contain a good deal of repetition. A bystander may often note that the principal man of the village is by no means the first to deliver his speech, indeed he may be the last to do so. When these welcoming harangues are over, then the visitors have their turn of speech-making, which is conducted in a similar manner.
The speech-making, beloved of the Maori, having come to an end, the villagers break away, and a meal, often long delayed by the foregoing function, is brought forward by the women of the place, and arranged on the plaza before the guest house. Should the visitors be numerous, not merely a few individuals, and more especially when present by special invitation, a considerable amount of display was made when bearing the meal from the cook houses, or ovens, to the plaza. This food-bearing function is known as heriheri kai and makamaka kai. The food bearers, mostly women, would march in procession to the plaza, each bearing a basket of food. The column advances very slowly, the bearers singing a rhythmic chaunt, their swaying bodies and baskets, and the
In the case of two or three visitors, women would bring the food without any dramatic display, and announce the ready meal in such a remark as “E hoa ma! Ina te ora o te tangata” (O friends! Here is the sustenance of man). Maori hosts do not remain present while guests are partaking of a meal, and food bearers retire as soon as they have deposited their burdens.
Should the weather be cold, baskets of cha coal would be provided in case the visitors would like to kindle a fire in the small pit, or pits, in the house.
A peculiar custom was observed by the Maori in connection with the visit of an important chief. It sometimes occurred that such a person was not suffered to enter the village by way of the ordinary entrance, but a part of the defensive stockade was taken down so as to form a special entrance for him. This was in honour of his rank. Here the memory wheels backward to Greece and the winner of the Olympian games, who was not allowed to enter by the city gates, but for whose passage a part of the city walls was broken down.
A chief of consequence would travel with a retinue, and notice would be sent to any village that he intended to visit. An old saying is: “Me haere i raro i te kāhu korako,” which implies that it is always well to travel under the wing of a white hawk, that is, a chief, because good provender and quarters will then be assured. Such a party is denoted by the term ope tuarangi; it is one composed of well-born folks. When travelling it is considered bad form not to heed an invitation to stop and partake of a meal when invited to do so,
Kei takahia a Tahu” (Lest Tahu be slighted). This Tahu is the personified form of food.
Reverting to the custom of breaching a stockade to admit an important visitor, we have in tradition numerous cases where a lone visitor has clambered over the stockade of a village instead of utilising the proper entrance. Or, in some cases, such person would enter the house of an important personage by means of clambering through the window space, instead of entering by the doorway. The object seems to have been to show the people that a relative of the owner of the house had arrived.
Social meetings and festivals entered largely into Maori life. Not that festivals were of frequent occurrence, but they were deemed to be important functions. They may be divided into two classes, namely, ritual and social festivals. Such feasts as those pertaining to such functions as mourning for the dead, exhumation, the performance of the Tohi rite, etc., were of a religious nature, while others partook more of the nature of social meetings. The harvest festival in March and the New Year festival in June were recognised annual functions.
The universal term for a feast is hakari, and this term is now applied to any minor entertainment. It seems, however, not improbable that the term was originally applied to ritual festivals only. The terms haukai and kaihaukai are also applied to feasts, and these two expressions, together with that of hau, seem to pertain to return feasts. The Maori says that all feasts and festivals may be divided into two classes, but his classification differs from ours in that he divides them into those that come under the mana or sway of Tu, the god of war, and those that pertain to Rongo, who represents the arts of peace.
An important feast, one to which many persons were to be invited, called for much extra labour on the part of a community, for great quantities of food were needed at such functions. Not only would a considerable area of land have to be cleared, broken up, and cultivated to root crops, but also great quantities of other food products would be needed, such as fern root, birds, rats, fish, etc. Eels, sea fish, and shellfish were dried and preserved in great quantities for such
hui or meeting nearly a year before such meeting came off. A curious feature about important feasts was that they were sometimes given distinctive names which were remembered for generations.
The next movement in connection with our feast was the sending of a messenger or messengers to invite other clans to the festival. In some cases as many as ten persons would be
employed on this errand, and such a party was known as an ope whakareka. The procedure was marked by much ceremonial punctiliousness, the invitation being chaunted or intoned in a peculiarly euphonious manner. In this song-like effusion a messenger made known his errand. Some person among the villagers would reply thereto in a similar tone, and one such recitation before me commences with a form of charm intended to protect the local people and their food products from any possible evil designs in the form of magic. It ends with a few lines declining the invitation. The messenger then chaunted another formula, which would be replied to by yet another that contains the statement that the villagers have
paremata to the proposed feast. This term denotes a present made by guests to the givers of a feast. When accepting such an invitation it is not meet that you should attend with empty hands, to go thereto with a bare forehead, as the Maori puts it. Take some offering with you, a calabash of preserved rats for example.
The invitations having been settled, preparations were made for the great day. In most cases the food products were arranged in long stacks, the sub-stratum of which would be hundreds of baskets of sweet potatoes, in modern times of common potatoes (Solanum), on top of which other supplies would be arranged. Such stacks of food are called tahua. Forty years ago I used to see such stacks of food at feasts with cleft sticks stuck upright in them at intervals, each cleft containing £1 and £5 notes, all of which, food and cash, was presented to the guests. At one such feast held at Turanga, in the “fifties” I think, a long shed was erected in which to accommodate the guests. That shed had its roof covered with 400 new blankets, all of which were handed over to the guests.
In the northern part of the North Island the food supplies at such feasts were sometimes stacked on elevated platforms built in tiers on a great framework of poles. These were usually made by erecting long saplings in the form of an inverted V, thus A, the platforms being lain on poles lashed on to these supports in a horizontal position. These erections were sometimes of a considerable length, fifty feet in height, and supported thousands of baskets of food supplies. The Rev. Mr. Yate, an early missionary, has left us an illustration of a circular one. This consisted of a very tall, stout sapling, probably a pine ricker, set vertically in the earth, while a number of other such rickers were placed with their butt ends in a circle round the central staff with their tops lashed to it. The whole fabric formed a tall cone with a wide base. The series of platforms were formed by lashing spars in a horizontal position across from one side of the cone to the other, the size of such platforms diminishing from ground line to apex. Such a hakari stage as this would be a picturesque object when all the platforms were packed close with provender, and decorated after the manner of the Maori.
The ope whakareka mentioned above would escort the guests to within a comparatively short distance of the meeting place, and then leave them and proceed to the scene of the feast. The guests might camp for the night not far from the hakari ground; if so, then a supply of provisions would be
sent to their camp, such a gift being termed a tumahana. If the march from such a camp was a fairly long one, then a second supply of provisions, called a pongaihu, might be sent forward, so that the guests might have another meal ere they reached the feast ground. Probably this custom originated
Each member of the invitation or escort party alluded to above would invite and escort his own relatives, hence each party might consist of six, eight, or more persons.
Now the old-time Maori was a very cautious and suspicious person. He was ever suspicious of the actions and motives of others, of people who were not members of his own community. His fears of makutu or withcraft were seldom at rest, hence such scenes as the following, which, from our point of view, look like entertaining unpleasant doubts of the intentions of one's hosts. For when an invited party reached the bounds of the plaza where the stacks of food supplies intended for the guests were, it halted. Then one person, a chief or a tohunga, would advance to the nearest stack of food, and, halting at the first supporting post thereof, he would stamp his foot at the base of the post. At the same time he would repeat a karakia or charm that was intended to neutralise any evil or harmful influences that might pertain to those food supplies. They were under the mana of other clans, and such mana might perchance include some pernicious influence. This act of whakarori, as it was called, removed any such attribute, any restriction or tapu, and rendered the supplies harmless and safe to handle and utilise. Tahu represents all that provender, and Tahu must be rendered harmless, hence the old saying, “Ko Tahu kia roria.” He is the personified form of all food supplies. After this performance was over the party of guests would advance in column and the meeting would open.
What seems to have been a similar kind of ceremony to the above was described to me by Bay of Plenty natives, who style it the ue. It is said to have been performed by such visitors to a hakari for the purpose of banishing the food supplies of the district, that is of their hosts, though their object in doing so is by no means clear. The spell or charm recited in order to bring about such a result is called ue, and it was apparently the same charm that was employed when it was desired to drive a people from their lands by means of magic, and so avoid the necessity of fighting them. But when
whakararau charm to neutralise the effect of the other.
The party would be received with the waving of garments and green branches, and cries of welcome, as already described. On occasions when no tangi or mourning was to be indulged in, several of the village chiefs would, one after another, rise and welcome the guests, to whakatau or “settle” them, to make them feel at home. These speeches would be replied to, and then a meal was provided. During this meal might be seen the exercise of an old custom. Any villager having a friend or near relative among the guests might desire to make him a special present of some choice article of food. This was permissible, and such present is called a kokomo or whakatomo.
The most interesting function of such a festival was the allotting of the tahua or stacks of food to the various clans. A kind of master of ceremonies would conduct this operation. With a rod in his hand wherewith to indicate the sections of the stacks of food supplies allotted to the different clans or tribes represented by the visitors, he called out the names of such clans in stentorian tones. In some cases the stacks were handed over as a whole, and the visitors apportioned them themselves. This was probably in cases where the guests were members of the same tribe.
All such meetings as these were, and are, much enjoyed by the Maori folk. Such a meeting possessed different phases. Its primary object might be ritual or ceremonial, as an exhumation of bones of the dead, or a marriage feast, or a baptismal rite, but secondarily it would also be a social function and a business or political meeting. Tribal and clan matters would be discussed and arranged, while the people generally, especially the young folk, would indulge in many forms of amusement, pastimes and contests.
The food for such meetings was prepared and served by the women of the village, but slaves would also be employed in such tasks.
The origin of hakari, or feasts, we are informed, was in ritual feasts of ancient times, when offerings were made to gods when some assistance or favour was desired from them. The first hakari mentioned in Maori myths of the Takitumu district were held on the summit of the thrice sacred Mt. Irihia in the original homeland, whereat highly tapu ceremonies pertaining to Io and other celestial denizens were performed.
The expression hakari taonga is applied to such a function as when people assemble to present gifts to some person, as to a child of rank at its baptism, after which ceremony would come the hakari kai, or feast. Ceremonial feasts connected with such a baptismal rite, or an important marriage, or the conducting of the whare wananga, might be commemorated by the erection of a carved post termed a rahui hakari. This act was thought to add eclat to the occasion. The original meaning of hakari was probably not “feast.”
The festival of the New Year was deemed a very important one. This took place at the heliacal rising of the Pleiades in June on the east coast, but at the rising of Rigel in the far north. There was much of sentiment in the Maori attitude towards the Pleiades, as there also was in Polynesia. Women greeted the reappearance of this group with song and dance, and tears, assembling on the village plaza for the purpose. The plaza was swept and the village assumed a gala aspect on this occasion. The commencement of the old, old Pleiades year of Asia was about to be observed. It was marked by feasting and by what the Maori terms “Nga mahi a te rehia”—the arts of pleasure, such as dancing, singing, the playing of many forms of games, and contests of many kinds. It was, as a native put it to me, a period of joy, pleasure and light hearts.
The harvest feast was celebrated in March when the crops had been garnered and stored. This also was a festival of much rejoicing. A feast was also held at a village where and when the crops had been planted.
A ceremonial feast was held when two tribes made peace after fighting, and this function was marked by some spectacular performances, of which more anon, when we lift the war trail under the mana of Tu the Red Eyed, and list to
kawau māro.
The marriage feast and the post-marriage feast are described elsewhere. It is also necessary to state that any meeting of the people, whatsoever the object, was marked by a feast. Such festivals of the present time include many European features, and provide interest and amusement to an observant person.
We have so frequently encountered the term mana that it will be as well to discuss its meaning here. It is indeed quite essential that the reader should gain some knowledge of this quality, for it was a very important one in the eyes of the Maori in the days when the mana maori or native authority was flourishing in these isles.
The meanings of the word mana as given in Williams' Maori Dictionary, are “authority, control, influence, prestige, power, psychic force, effectual, authoritative, having influence or power, to be effectual”—which is a fair list, but explanation and illustrations are still necessary. Adding a causative prefix gives us whakamana, “to give effect to, to empower, to make effective, to give prestige to.” When we come to consider the above meanings of the term we can see why it was that the Maori makes such a frequent use of it. The same word is employed in Melanesia, but apparently in a different sense. Nor is it man only to whom this quality pertains in Maoriland. What we term inanimate objects may possess mana; such as the tipua objects, trees, stones, etc., explained elsewhere, with many other things.
There are many different phases or aspects of mana. There is ancestral mana, inherited from forbears; there is mana ariki, that has already been explained. There is also mana atua emanating from the gods, and other forms that will be alluded to anon. Raukawa (Cook Straits) was formerly a moana whai mana, or mana possessing sea, because there stand Nga Whatu (The Brothers), mana possessing rocky islets of the genus tipua. When a canoe crossed the Straits the eyes of those on board were veiled by means of leaves to prevent them seeing those rocks, which were tapu. Should one chance to look at them, then the vessel would be held
Mana imparts effectiveness to charms and rites. It has been said that a dead man possesses no mana, but ancestral spirits can impart force to karakia. Rites were performed at
a sacred place termed the whata puaroa in order to conserve and protect both mana and tapu. The mana of a warlock who could blast a tree or shatter a stone by reciting a spell was a form of will power, or psychic force, the powers of which emanated from the gods. The mana of a chief would be hereditary, but he would need to carefully uphold it, otherwise he might weaken it by ill-advised behaviour, or actions. Both chiefs and priests had to be extremely careful in fostering
mana and tapu. To desecrate a rule of tapu would mean the endangering of their mana, simply because it would offend the gods. If a priest polluted his tapu he lost his priestly powers. As an old tohunga remarked to a friend of the writer long years ago: “Our mana has gone for ever. The Bible has destroyed it. We enter houses containing cooked food; our bodies and clothing are washed with warm water, water heated in common vessels, and there is no more tapu. We have abandoned our own gods and their laws in these days of the white man.”
Some persons were famous as possessing many forms of mana. The east coast ancestor known as Tamatea-ariki-nui, for example, possessed mana atua, mana ariki, and mana tangata, the latter term including many minor forms of mana. This mana atua he acquired by his descent from Uru-te-ngangana, Roiho, and Maui, his mana ariki was, of course, hereditary, and his mana tangata of a high class, while his tapu was necessarily intense, this being a natural sequence. The mana craved from the gods, or from Io, when the Tohi rite was performed over an infant, went back to the gods at the death of the recipient.
Should two tohunga be pitted against each other in some form of contest, as in the exercise of black magic, the one possessing the greatest amount of mana would, apart from accidents, gain the victory.
When persons of importance visit a village, their mana is said to have a strange effect, inasmuch as it banishes food supplies. Food products, birds, fish, etc., will desert their usual haunts and disappear for a time. Connected with this belief is an old saying: “Nga uri o Whaitiri whakapaparoa kai” (The offspring of Whatiri who made food scarce). Another old belief is that a child born feet first will be a tapu person of considerable mana.
In many cases the mana of a chief has emanated largely from personal magnetism. As among all other peoples this faculty has great effect with our native folk. Mana has many origins, that of such prominent natives as
If mana can be gained in divers ways it can also be lost in as many. A tribe may lose its mana by being defeated in engagements with tribal enemies, and in other ways. Any desecration of tapu may cause a man to lose his mana, and priests have to be extremely careful in all their actions. Thus, supposing a priest should so far forget himself as to sit down in that part of a house where women recline, then he will become kahupo, or blind. This expression is not applied to ordinary blindness, which is kapo or matapo; it denotes a kind of spiritual blindness. The subject will lose his powers of second sight, and so be unable to see the warning signs of the gods, a serious condition for a priestly seer. He must at once whakaepa, or conciliate the gods in order to regain his powers of second sight.
The mana of the Whare wananga, or tapu School of Learning, was lost through men taking to European ways and discarding tapu, for tapu and mana went hand in hand.
The pride that a chief took in his own mana had one unpleasing effect, it was liable to make him an exceedingly “touchy” person. He was quick to resent any act that he deemed a takahi mana, a disregarding or belittling of his prestige. Such acts have been the cause of innumerable quarrels and much fighting. A breach of etiquette was quite sufficient to lead to serious trouble.
The transference of mana from one generation to another, as from father to son, or from teacher to pupil, was sometimes effected by means of a very singular performance. This peculiar rite consisted of the “biting” by the younger person of some part of the body, head or limbs of the elder person. The act was not really one of biting, but rather placing the mouth on the part indicated and closing it, bringing the teeth together. The parts so treated, as given by various authorities of different districts, were the crown of the head, the ear, the perineum, and the big toe. A similar act was that termed whakaha, which consisted of placing the mouth to the place and accompanying the act with an inspiration of breath. Colonel Gudgeon has told us that the so-called act of biting deprives the subject of his mana, which
mana of a person in the Bay of Plenty district, and the natives of those parts attribute mana also to the right shoulder. Any twitchings of the muscles of that part were held to betoken the trend of future events, that is to say, they were omens.
The mana of rites and invocations connected with growing crops is represented by the puke tapu of the field. This is a single tuber of sweet potato planted in a small mound of earth (puke) that was set apart as the tapu talisman or mauri of the crop.
The modern Maori indulges much in herbal medicines, and when he gathers leaves or bark for that purpose he takes them from the east side of the tree, for that side only possesses mana.
We have already seen that certain hills, ranges and mountains possess mana, especially those on which summer lightning is wont to play, or where bones of the dead were deposited.
The above illustrations will serve to show what great respect the Maori had for personal and ancestral mana, how that quality is acquired, and how it may be lost.
It is meet that some explanation be here given of the old institution of rahui, inasmuch as it is one that rested on and was upheld by mana, human and divine. This custom was one of prohibition, and hence may be viewed as a variety of tapu. Any embargo laid on food products, or anything else almost, comes under this heading. It was equivalent to our warnings to trespassers, and its efficacy was based on the mana of those who instituted it. In some cases a wooden post was set up as a visible mark of the prohibition, and this was known as a pou rahui. It differed from the aukati, which was a certain line that persons were forbidden to cross for some reason or another. Should the use of a certain path be prohibited the word tapu was usually employed to describe the condition. The word rahui is also used as a verb, as: “Kua turahuitia te awa” (The stream has been preserved).
It sometimes occurred that a forest, a stream, or a given area of land was made tapu at the death of an important
rahuitia (passive form). The sign of such an embargo might be a bunch of fern attached to a pole, or possibly a garment belonging to the chief who instituted the rahui. In other cases no material token was exhibited, but the injunction was made known by word of mouth.
A tree may be a rahuitia, bespoken or preserved for a certain purpose, wherefrom to fashion a canoe, for example. A stone placed at the base thereof, or some other sign, might be the method employed of notifying such an embargo, though there would also be a verbal notification to the people. A magic spell might be repeated over the stone in order to punish any person who might interfere with the tree. I know of one case in which a water spring was protected by a rahui. In some districts boundary marks were called pou rahui (rahui posts). Polack mentions seeing in the north rahui posts adorned with carved and painted designs, set up to protect and preserve cockle banks and forest products. Cultivated crops were also protected by rahui. Polack mentions seeing such a field where the token of the interdiction was some human hair tied to a tree. This was in the “thirties” of last century.
The institution of rahui was of course only a phase of tapu, and it might be employed to preserve any natural product from being interfered with. Birds, fish, fruits, trees, forests, the edible fern root, Phormium swamps, places where red ochre was procured; these and many other things and places were so protected. The institution of rahui was a useful one. The rahui, or its material symbol, was also employed as a mauri, a protective talisman, to preserve the vitality and fruitfulness of land, forest, and stream.
The rahui post set up was often painted with red ochre, a colour employed by the Maori for what may be termed sacerdotal purposes. When Matiu of Te Whaiti died, the stream and valley of Okahu were under rahui for some time, so that no food products might be obtained there. In this case there was no material token of the ban, and no magic rite was performed in order to slay or punish trespassers, simply the word went forth that Okahu was under rahui. Now this embargo seems to have been just an honorific act.
When a path was put under rahui the symbol thereof might be a garment suspended across it. Such was the origin of the place name of Pa-puweru (garment obstruction), near Rua-tahuna. Or the obstruction might be a branch, and hence the place name of Pa-rangiora, in the same district.
The act of disregarding a rahui, that is of taking products so preserved, is termed kairamua. It was a serious offence, and in some cases a very dangerous one.
It was, of course, highly necessary that a rahui should be instituted by a person possessing mana, otherwise it would not be effective. We will suppose the case of a priestly expert setting up a rahui post to symbolise the intense form of prohibition, that supported by the dread arts of black magic. Just before he sets up the post he repeats a brief formula indicating its protective purport: “He rokiroki, he penapena, he rakai whenua.” He then sets up the post in its hole, fills up the hole with earth and tamps it. He then attaches the maro to the post, this object being a few fronds of the fern called kiwikiwi (Lomaria fluviatilis). He then recites a potent spell “to sharpen the teeth of the rahui that it may have power to destroy man.” As he does so he makes a pass over the earth with his hand, “he lacerates the surface of the earth,” as the Maori puts it. This is an extraordinary symbolical act by means of which he is said to form the waro rahui, or rahui chasm, the imaginary pit of destruction that will engulf and destroy those who disregard the prohibition. He calls upon the gods to sharpen their teeth and destroy all impious persons committing kairamua, to consign them to flies and worms. Bear in mind that the powers now implanted in the post emanate from the gods of the third class.
Our worthy sorcerer then takes the maro off the post, where it has absorbed the mana of the rahui, and places it on a stone he has selected. These objects are called the kapu of the rahui; they are its whatu or kernel, and represent its powers. During the rite the operator plucks at the tauru or head of the post to take its ahua or semblance, though his fingers bring away nothing material. By this ceremony the kapu, of which the stone is the imperishable, permanent object, is imbued with the mana of the post. The kapu is taken away and concealed in some secret place, lest it be found,
maro, possessing no mana whatever, is attached to the post in order to mislead any prowling person of evil designs. That false maro “has no teeth,” for no hoa spell has been recited over it. Now should any person attempt to tamper with the post, to destroy its powers, his attempt will fail, because the “kernel” of the rahui is represented by the concealed kapu.
This form of rahui may be said to possess three phases of power. It preserves the products of the land from spoliation; it preserves the vitality and fruitfulness of land, forest and stream, and it also possesses the power to destroy those who attempt to interfere with such products.
Now should any person possessing the required knowledge of procedure attempt to locate the concealed kapu, in order that he may destroy its magic powers, he would endeavour to rouse (whakaoho) it, to cause it to disclose its whereabouts. The formula recited for this purpose is a long and very singular composition. Should the person who instituted the rahui have reason to believe that some one is interfering with it, he will at once go and turuki it by means of a certain rite. This means that the kapu has “gone to sleep,” as my informant put it, and it needs waking up, so that it may exert its deadly powers. Again, if it be noted that the productiveness of forest, land or stream has decreased, that fruits, birds and fish are not plentiful, then the whakaoho rite is performed in order to rouse, or awaken the kapu. The kapu, together with the material mauri of the land, is taken to the ahi taitai, a tapu fire, whereat the rite was performed. The above procedure was explained to me by old Tutakangahau, of the Tuhoe tribe.
In some cases a rahui was supported by mana tangata only, that is by the prestige of the person who instituted it, no kapu, or post, or magic rite, being employed. If such a prohibition was disregarded, then the arts of magic might be relied on wherewith to punish offenders. In a case at Paeroa a man's head, that of an enemy, was stuck up on a rahui post in order to protect and preserve a place where fern (Pteris) roots were dug, the same being an important food supply. In later days that skull was taken down and a gentle neolith
taro in it to provide food for his child, who was given the name of “The Taro” from that circumstance.
In one case I heard of a man naming a rock in a river after himself that it might serve as a token of a rahui. A big stone named Tumata-whero, at Rua-tahuna, was utilised as a pou rahui to preserve the products of the surrounding lands. When Tuhoe slew Tionga, of the Arawa tribe, they used his head to guard a bird-snaring tree with. In later days the Awa folk borrowed that skull and set it in their sweet potato fields to make the crops flourish.
There is but little to say with regard to personal property among the Maori folk, for the individual possessed little that comes under that head. He had his few garments, his few weapons, his hut, some tools, with certain fishing and snaring gear, and little else save his share of cultivated crops. Cooking utensils were unknown, house furniture did not exist. If he hewed out a canoe, why, then, any member of the family group considered that he had a right to use it, as witness the old saying: “He waka eke noa.”
Land is generally said to have been held in common by the Maori, but an examination of the matter shows a good deal more to be said. Take the tribal lands as a whole. These were contained within well-known boundaries. Within this area were sub-divisions into clan lands, and within these again were the areas belonging to the family groups. Quarrels over boundaries certainly occurred, but these often pertained to wild lands, unoccupied and uncultivated, places visited merely on occasional bird-snaring or fishing excursions. With regard to land of a specially desirable nature, the arrangements of the family group or clan were generally of a fairly satisfactory nature, so that each person knew what areas he could cultivate, what stretch of forest he might take birds and rats in, what streams, or parts of streams he could fish in. Youths were carefully taught such things by their fathers or grandfathers. As a native expressed it to me: “The knowledge of land boundaries is knowledge that descends from my father to myself. All his teachings, instructions and advice are retained in my memory.”
In some cases a man would conduct his son or grandson along the different boundaries of lands in which they were
Prominent trees and rocks were often utilised as boundary marks, and such objects would receive proper names. On tracts of land lacking such features, boundary marks of stone or timber were occasionally erected, such stones being rough, unworked blocks. When such a mark was erected, the persons interested in the function met at the spot, and, when the post or stone had been set up, the principal persons took their stand by it and placed their left hands on it as the officiating tohunga repeated a certain formula. In this recital Rangi the Sky Parent was called upon to impart mana and permanence to the mark, while the people undertook to respect it. Most boundaries of lands, however, had no such marks erected, natural features being relied on. The outer boundaries of tribal lands were held to be the most important, and concerning which serious quarrels were most likely to occur. I have heard important boundary marks referred to as pou aronui, and less important intermediate ones as pou tārāwaho. It sometimes happened that a permanent mark was desirable in a place where no large stones were available, in which case a
It may fairly be stated that, in pre-European days, there was no area of land that was not claimed by some tribe. Certainly there were whenua tautohe, debatable lands claimed by two tribes, and these might remain unoccupied, but not necessarily so, for natives often acted in what we would consider a most reckless manner. Natives claim land by ancestral right (take tipuna), by occupation (ahi ka), and by conquest (raupatu). These are the main bases of claims. Others are sometimes introduced, or the land might be a whenua tuku, land ceded to a people for some reason, a service rendered, an injury committed, etc. The ahi ka, or burning fire, was deemed an important right, to keep fire burning on
The deep feeling of affection the Maori feels for his home lands had a strong influence on his character and mode of life. No need to ask for volunteers to defend the tribal lands. Land and women, sayeth the Maori, are the cause of much tribulation, as shown by the old saying: “He wahine, he whenua, a ngaro ai te tangata” (by women and land are men lost). Cases have been known where a Maori, taken prisoner and enslaved by enemies, has sent a message to his tribesmen: “Tukuna mai he kapunga oneone ki au hai tangi” (Send me a handful of soil that I may weep over it). Even so he would greet that handful of earth from his loved home. Again we know of a number of cases in which a man, captured and about to be slain by enemies, has asked to be allowed to drink of the waters of a certain stream ere he was killed. It would probably be a stream that flowed through his tribal lands. In at least some instances he was so conducted to the stream and allowed to drink therefrom ere being killed. Such a captive has also been known to say to his captors: “Conduct me to the bounds of my land and let me greet it ere I am slain.” Others have asked permission to sing a song of farewell ere being killed. Another old saying is: “I greet my only surviving parent in the world, the land.” When the Wai-rarapa Lake was awarded to the Crown by arrangement, the local natives sang in Court a most impressive song of farewell to the lake. When the chief Rakuraku was too old to travel, his young people, when returning from his lands at the head of the Wai-mana, would bring him a branchlet of the kotara tree for him to greet over.
In studying the customs of the Maori, it is well to ever bear in mind that a native so thoroughly identifies himself with his tribe that he is ever employing the first personal pronoun. In mentioning a fight that occurred possibly ten generations ago he will say: “I defeated the enemy there,” mentioning the name of the tribe. In like manner he will carelessly indicate ten thousand acres of land with a wave of his hand, and
When a man cultivated a piece of land, a portion of an area in which he was an owner, that piece of land was called his, nevertheless it remained a portion of the area in which all members of the group or clan possessed an interest. He was not actually the sole owner, though he might act as though he were, and arrange for his son to work it after he himself had passed away. There was no disposing of land to persons outside the community by an individual, as with us. These different points of view led to misunderstandings between natives and Europeans in former days. Individual possession of land was a plant of slow growth the world over, and we know how communal ownership obtained in Britain until comparatively modern times. No Maori could alienate a piece of land without the consent of the other owners.
Land obtained by conquest presented some different features, and in this case occupation was quite necessary, otherwise the claim would not hold good. If, however, such lands were retained, the position would ere long become much the same as that of ancestral lands, the actual conquerors would pass it on to the descendants. It would never be forgotten, however, that such land was a whenua raupatu, gained by conquest, and not ancestral land.
If a man married into another tribe and lived with his wife's people he would work land in which she had an interest, but could not acquire any himself. Should his wife die he would probably return to his own people. Even though his wife's folk desired him to stay, and gave him a piece of land to cultivate, that land would return to the owners at his death; his own people could not claim it. All this was because he was not a member of the tribe.
Refugees and migrants were sometimes given land on which to dwell, but if they left the district such land would revert to its former owners. If a person of importance had his blood shed on land belonging to others, he might claim a
rangatira class married a man of low degree, hence her friends sent a party to demand compensation, and a piece of land was handed over to settle the matter. In some cases a similar arrangement was made when a married woman misconducted herself.
It was not necessarily the eldest son who possessed the most authority with regard to his family's land interests. He might devote his attention more to war, or possibly not reside on such lands.
A person does not possess rights to all tribal lands, but only to those in which his parents were owners. He might possess an interest in lands of several clans, owing to inter-marriage. The question of occupation was, however, always liable to come up; non-occupation for a certain period caused his claim to become “cold.”
Quarrels over land and boundaries, called riri whenua, were not uncommon occurrences, and exceedingly turbulent such scenes are, as I know full well. Men would come to blows in such affairs, but the principal feature of such an episode is the amazing clamour. Loss of life was but an occasional occurrence.
The Maori system of land tenure may be said to be a system of family tenure. No longer, as in the long past hunting stage of culture, could an individual range the whole of the tribal lands in search of game and other products. He had to confine himself to those of his own group. In cultivating a space of ground we are told by some that he might become its sole owner, but it was not such sole ownership as is known to us; sole use is a better term.
In connection with land, women did not have the same status as men, for they were liable to marry outside the community and live with their husbands' folk; thus they and their progeny would be lost to the home community.
The custom of taunaha whenua, or be speaking of land, was followed when land was obtained by conquest, when men of standing would claim certain areas. A favoured method of doing so was to name the desired area after some part of the claimant's body. Thus a piece of land was claimed by a certain chief with the words “This is my stomach,” while another used the words “This is my throat.” A number of similar incidents have been recorded.
The Maori views land as the very symbol of stability, of permanence. An old saying is the following: “He kura tangata e kore e rokohanga, he kura whenua ka rokohanga” (People die, are slain, migrate, disappear; not so the land, which ever remains). The following carries a similar meaning: “Whatu ngarongaro he tangata, toitu he whenua.”
There were some differences as to rules of land tenure as in different districts, and very singular arrangements were made that are extremely puzzling to Europeans.
There was naturally a certain amount of division of labour among the Maori folk, but not such a division as we see among civilised peoples; far from it. In some crafts and activities women had no share at all, such as house building and canoe making. With regard to work in cultivation, women could assist in the clearing of the ground, but men alone did the digging. On the east coast women were not allowed to take part in the planting of the sweet potato crop, for there was much tapu pertaining to it. On the Taranaki or western coast of the North Island women seem to have assisted in the planting. Customs differed as in different districts in connection with such labours. Men alone went out to fish at sea, but women often took part in netting freshwater fish, the smaller species, though they do not seem to have assisted in working the eel weirs. Certain phases of tapu pertained to sea fishing and eel weirs, and this was probably the reason why women did not join in those tasks.
The trapping, snaring and spearing of birds and rats was the task of men, though occasionally women took part in attending to bird snares. Some of the trees that were easiest to ascend would be assigned to them. The Maori cannot have had much idle time on his hands in pre-European days. After his crops were lifted and stored, he certainly had some leisure
As among other barbaric peoples, women certainly had their hands full. They did all work in connection with the preparation and cooking of food; only a low-class man, one void of tapu, would take part in such work. Women also had to manufacture new dinner plates for each meal in the form of quickly woven open baskets of dish-like form. Another task, and no light one, was the procuring of fuel. They had to seek dry, brash branches, or small trunks, that could be broken into short lengths by striking them on a log or stone, or on the ground, a process known as whatiwhati wahie and tātā wahie. The Maori possessed no form of cutting implement by means of which wood could be cut across the grain with despatch. Women carried huge loads of fuel and food supplies on their backs at their daily tasks; they were essentially beasts of burden, hence they soon gained the appearance of age. Their bent figures gave them an air of decrepitude at an age when they should have been still erect and alert. Another ceaseless, and a very tedious task of women, was the weaving or plaiting of garments, sleeping mats, and baskets, a labour that was always toward in one form or another. Women also assisted in the collection of minor food supplies, herbs, berries, etc. The digging of the rhizomes of the bracken, the great standby of the Maori, was, however, the task of the men. A task that was always performed by women was the collecting of shellfish, save in some cases wherein men were more fitted for it, as in procuring the Haliotis. In some cases work was expeditiously performed by a tuao, or working bee, in which many persons would join.
As to division of labour among men, it obtained to but a limited extent. Every man was a trained fighter, ever ready to defend his home, or attack an enemy. He also had to be a fisherman, a fowler, a cultivator of the soil, an expert thatcher and tool wielder, and many other things. But certain men showed greater aptitude than their fellows at canoe making, house building, painting decorative designs, or fashioning stone implements, etc., tasks of the artisan. Thus such men would be called upon by their tribesmen when such tasks were on hand, because of their proficiency. A man unskilled in fashioning a stone adze might ask an expert to make him one, and he would recompense him with a gift of some nature. Skilled tasks such as that of a tattooing artist, a wood carver, a fashioner of greenstone pendants or weapons, were confined to a few experts, as a rule.
The Maori custom of carrying burdens has always interested me, possibly because I have so often had to follow his lead. The natives of Polynesia used the balance pole, as employed by Chinamen, but there is no trace of it having been used in New Zealand. The range of the balance pole I have never seen stated, but it was employed as far north as the Hawaiian Isles, and at the isle of Timor in Indonesia. At Samoa it was called amonga. In New Zealand this word denotes anything carried on the shoulder, as a log or litter is carried, and a litter is called an amo. Amonga is also used in an archaic sense as meaning an offering, and amoamohanga is an old term denoting first fruits offering, in which I believe we have a survival of the Polynesian amonga. The Maori carried burdens on his back, pack fashion, with two “swag straps” (kawe) passing over his shoulders and under his arms. Now why did he abandon the balance pole of his Polynesian home and adopt the pikau or back pack method? The answer to this query lies in the different conditions encountered in the two regions. He found that the balance pole was useless here in rough hill country clothed with forest, scrub or bracken, hence the discarding of the balance pole. From whom did he acquire a knowledge of the pikau method? He may have brought that knowledge with him, or evolved the habit here, or borrowed it
The following words referring to the carrying of burdens are employed by the Maori:—
amonga, amohanga and amoamohanga; the reduplicate form denotes plurality.haringa and heringa.
hikinga, hikitanga.
Kawenga, a burden.Pikaunga, a load for the back; two shoulder straps used.Wahanga, a load, burden. These gerundial forms also denote the time, place or circumstance of carrying. Waha is also applied to the carrying of children on the back.
On the west coast of the North Island the kawe or pack straps for a back burden are united in the middle, the strips of Phormium being plaited together during the process of making; these are termed kawe rapa. Elsewhere two single straps are employed.
The Maori never carried burdens on the head, probably because it is the most tapu part of the body. I have been informed that the Hindu sometimes carries loads on the head, and also sometimes on the back, with the aid of a head strap, but he does not use the balance pole.
We have seen that women were obliged to perform much laborious work, as is a common custom among barbaric folk. The position of inferiority assigned to the sex was assuredly an unpleasing feature, but never did the Maori descend to the level of our own priesthood of the Middle Ages with its dreadful decrees and fulminations against women. The alleged inferiority of women in Maoriland originated principally from the myth that she sprang from the inferior member of the primal parents, Papa the Earth Mother. Why the Earth Mother should be deemed inferior to the male Sky
The impurity of woman during the menstrual period was much stressed by the Maori, and this led to many restrictions of her liberty of action. She was not allowed to join in many functions at such a time, to enter a cultivation ground, lest the crops fail, to collect shellfish, lest they migrate to other parts. In many places she might not assist in the planting, lifting, or storing crops. She might not step over a man's sleeping place, or recline on it, or step over a male, man or boy; such an act was deemed both dangerous and impertinent. Some ritual feasts she was not allowed to take part in; in some others it was necessary that she should do so. She was not allowed to wear the plumes of the heron, and, in the Taupo district at least, she might not partake of human flesh. In the Rangitaiki valley she was not allowed to eat the tuatara lizard, which fact would not appeal to us as a serious hardship. Women were not allowed within the whare mata, that is to say a place where nets, snares and traps were being made. There were many such restrictions on the liberty of women, all owing to some phase of tapu, and it may be said that tapu was the great disciplinary agent in Maori life.
It has been remarked that ill-treatment of women might lead to trouble at any time. As an illustration of this fact we take the case of Mahuru, who was taken to wife by one Takarehe of Ruatoki. When preparing a meal one day Mahuru did not remove the fibres from the fern root (rhizomes of bracken), hence her husband was angered and struck her. Mahuru at once fled to her father, Tama-hape, whom she found tending his crops. As she approached him he looked at her and said: “He morehu koe” (You are a refugee). Ere long Takarehe appeared on the scene, but the couple received him in dead silence, a fact that betokened trouble ahead. He struck at Tama-hape, who, however, parried the blow and succeeded in killing Takarehe. Not wishing to despise the good things the gods provide, and being moreover a practical
Such quarrels as the above were not so liable to be deadly ones when man and wife belonged to the same clan, but when of different tribes bitterness was likely to lead to a serious affray.
In olden times women were often keen on blood vengeance, a revengeful disposition being fostered in the Maori scheme of life. It was not uncommon for women to accompany raiding parties, and even children were sometimes taken on such expeditions. Native women are often more conservative than men, and this is shown in many ways. In former times it was not uncommon for a woman to commit suicide at the death of her husband.
Women took a leading part in ceremonial mourning for the dead, and in posture dancing for the entertainment of visitors, as also for other purposes. We have also seen that they took part in certain ritual performances, particularly those pertaining to the lifting of tapu. Women render all things noa or void of tapu, for they are, as a rule, viewed as the very antithesis of tapu. At the same time some high-class women were tapu, such as puhi and tapairu, elsewhere described. Such women were not expected to engage in cooking, or any other form of work, and would have companions and attendants who waited on them. They would probably learn posture dancing and perhaps weaving, such as the making of superior garments. They were prominent at peace-making functions. Important functions connected with such women were those termed pokanga taringa and tanga ngutu; the first being the piercing of her ears for pendants, the second the tattooing of her lips and chin. Both occasions were marked by ceremonial procedure and feasts. A respected tapairu would be treated with much deference. Her sleeping place was tapu, and she ate her meals alone. Such women, when possessed of ability and admired qualities, held much influence in the community. Occasionally a woman would acquire a considerable knowledge of ancient lore, and I knew of one who acted as a prompter to her husband when he was holding forth on such matters. A few high-class females had
It has been said that men and women had their meals apart in former times, but this was not always the case, and it is quite possible that custom varied as in different districts. We have been told that, in pre-European days, women did not develop the excessive fatness that they have in late times. This remark applies to men also.
Women wore practically the same garments as did men, consisting of kilt and cape, but the better-class women, especially before marriage, often wore somewhat dainty aprons adorned with various devices, such as the triangular maro kopua. They wore their hair short; if long enough to be tied it was so confined behind the head, not on the top as a man's long hair was. Nor did women wear the head plumes that men affected, though on gala occasions some might don a woven or plaited head band, or fillet.
Native women adopted a peculiar gait that was acquired in youth, a loose-jointed swinging of the hips that looks ungainly to us, but was admired by the Maori. Mothers drilled their daughters in this accomplishment, termed onioni, and I have heard a mother says to her girl: “Ha! Kaore koe e onioni” when the young one was neglecting to practise the gait.
The Maori had assuredly an eye for female beauty, and women possessing abundant good looks became famed, their memory sometimes being kept green for generations. Such an one was Hine-ruhi, concerning whom we have the saying, quoted when one encounters a handsome woman: “Ko Hineruhi koe, te wahine nana i tu te ata hapara” (You are like Hine-ruhi, she who caused the glories of dawn to appear).
The origin of maternal love, according to the Maori, is noted in the words of the old Earth Mother when it was proposed by the Sky Parent that their turbulent offspring should be punished for having cruelly torn their parents apart. The Earth Mother spoke: “Not so. I brought them forth to the world of life; in death shall they find rest with me; though they have erred and rebelled against us, yet are still my children. Mine be the care of the dead.”
We have a record of one woman who descended to the underworld. It is not quite clear what her status was, but apparently she possessed supernatural attributes. Her name was Te Hinu-tohu, and she was taken to wife by Ruaumoko of the underworld. Niwareka, who came up to the world of light and mated with Mataora, was a great grandchild of the above twain. Te Hinu-tohu is spoken of by some as a sister of Tangaroa, and she was famous for her beauty. We are told that when she smiled her teeth were as white as the snowy down of the albatross; she was also famed as a sweet singer. Ruaumoko heard of the beauty of Te Hinu and ascended to this world that he might look upon her. He assumed the form of an owl in order to make the ascent, and, approaching the house in which Te Hinu was, he heard her singing; truly her singing was like unto the rippling of waters. Then, when the people of the house slept, he recited a charm to cause her to dream of him and desire him. So it was that they came together, and, descending to the underworld, took up their abode there.
Children were almost invariably treated with kindness; certainly one often notes cases in which such kindness is of a negative nature. The lack of care and attention in the case of sickness is often deplorable, and apparently the result of ingrained superstition and prejudices. In certain lines there was a good deal of training, that is in connection with future activities, but native children were hardly ever punished for wrong behaviour, and they were often not checked for unruliness. On the other hand native children give less trouble than do ours, as teachers of native schools and others know full well. Many a time have I had my camp swarming with children, and have been surprised to find them give so little trouble. One can gather extremely interesting data from native children; thus I was wont to get them to perform their simple old-time pastimes, and sing the quaint little songs peculiar to these small folk. I found that a 50lb. case of biscuits in the mess tent was a good investment when information was desired in such lines.
Native children are precocious, and this characteristic springs, I believe, from two causes. In the first place children are seldom checked, parents usually confine corrective remarks
I have before me a version of the legend of Whiro, an old-time Polynesian voyager who came to New Zealand some five centuries ago. In this narrative is some account of a male child of a brother of Whiro, in which these remarks occur: “He was a child much liked by all, a favourite, on account of his pleasing disposition; he always greeted persons in a pleasing manner, and always invited passers-by to tarry at the home of himself and his parents.” This quaint form of eulogism gives some idea of the precocity of Maori children. I have myself, when travelling, been gravely invited by a small man of eight or ten years of age to dismount and partake of a meal. I have heard children ask questions, when their elders were debating some subject, and such questions were answered gravely, where, with us, the children would probably have been admonished or “chaffed.” Forbearance does not seem to have such unpleasing results in connection with native children as it does when practised with ours. After a good deal of experience with native children I must say that I have found them tractable, save in a few cases.
Boys were brought under the control of the father to a great extent, and the grandfather would also take a keen interest in the lad's training. Many kinds of object lessons were employed with children, many devices were employed in order to impress upon them desirable habits and qualities. Generosity and hospitality were admired virtues, thus, when a child was given some delectable article of food, an elder might ask him for a portion thereof in order to accustom the child to be unselfish. Many of us have a vague kind of idea that the children of barbaric man are allowed to run wild, and grow up without any form of training, but I have been much interested in the many mild devices employed by the Maori to implant desirable qualities in their children.
Infanticide was certainly practised in former times, but not to the extent that it was in the small isles of Polynesia. We know of harrowing tales of long-drawn out sieges, when, desperate with hunger, the children in a beseiged fortified village have been sacrified. The practice followed was to exchange children, so that parents might not eat their own children. In some cases children were sold to the enemy, bartered for food.
The Maori tells us that the youngest child of a family is often the most pert, or most capable. Hence we have such old sayings as the following: “He potiki whakahirahira” (A self-extolling or ambitious last born); also: “He potiki whati-whati toki” (An adze-breaking child), as denoting a mischievous young imp who gets possession of his father's stone adze and spoils the cutting edge thereof.
Parents who were particularly careful in the rearing of their children were wont to practise a form of massage on them, the head, face and limbs being carefully rubbed each day to cause them to assume an admired form. This kind of massage is termed toto, a word also used as a verb, the passive form of which is toia, and the gerundial form toanga. Two forms of massage practised on adults were known as romiromi and takahi; the former was a squeezing process and the latter a trampling on the body by a (bare footed) person. The latter was employed in cases of excessive physical fatigue, with excellent results, we are told.
The series of ritual performances termed Tohi were performed over children of superior families, principally the male children. These ceremonies were for the purpose of obtaining the assistance of the gods or ancestral spirits in inculcating desirable qualities and accomplishments in the young folk. Thus there was a Tohi rite pertaining to qualities desirable in fighting men, another in connection with the art of agriculture, others pertaining to such arts as wood carving, weaving, and such social virtues as hospitality, kindness and generosity.
The Maori seems to have been satisfied with two meals a day, and in times of scarcity he would reduce the number to one. The first meal was not taken early. If working about the village, in the cultivations, etc., a considerable amount of work was performed ere the first meal was taken. Nor did
All cooking was done by the women; only when absolutely compelled to would a man cook for himself. Tapu men could not engage in cooking. Slaves, of course, assisted in such labours. The common, universal mode of cooking was a steaming process, carried out in a manner that seems to have been
world-wide in ancient times; it was universally followed by the Polynesians. The food was cooked by steam in a small pit scooped out in the earth, a steaming pit, or steam oven. The Maori called these steam ovens hangi, umu, kopa, hapi, and by a number of other names. The size of the pit depended, of course, on the quantity of food to be cooked, still they were seldom made very large. When a considerable number of people had to be provided for, then a number of ovens was utilised.
An ordinary oven for family cooking is a circular pit about two feet in diameter at the ground line, and some
Astelia or Phormium, termed a koronae, or koropae, is employed to line the sides of the oven with; it prevents the intrusion of particles of earth. The arranged foods are now sprinkled with water somewhat copiously, which water percolates through to the hot stones and so generates the necessary steam, and the oven is now rapidly covered in. Another layer of leaves, called rautao when used for this purpose, is arranged so as to cover the foods, and over this are laid certain coarsely plaited mats, called taka and ritaka. These, again, are covered with a goodly layer of earth, which is beaten down so as to consolidate it; this is what retains the steam.
In some cases the food is placed directly on the hot stones in the bottom of the pit, without an intervening layer of leaves, in which case a little water will probably be sprinkled on the stones in order to wash off any ashes adhering to them. Such is the steam oven of Polynesia, and such was the mode of cooking employed by the Caledonians, as you will see noted in Ossian's Poems, in the Battle scene.
The length of time required for cooking by this means varies, but an ordinary sized umu must remain covered for one and a-half or two hours. To open it, the earth is scraped or shovelled off, the covering mats carefully removed, so that no earth may fall into the oven, the layer of leaves removed, and—kua maoa te kai—the food is cooked, and exceedingly well cooked, no method excels it; the lately evolved casserole cooking is but a reversion to the umu of the neolithic Maori. Yet the Maori sayeth that another method does excel it, namely the umu konao. In this method no fire is kindled in the pit, the stones being heated elsewhere and then placed in the cold pit, the rest of the process being as described above.
As the cooked food was taken from the ovens, it was, in olden days, placed in small open, dish-shaped baskets. Such a basket would contain food for from one to four persons. Important persons, and all excessively tapu folk, would eat alone, or at least have a separate rourou, as the small baskets are termed. The baskets were plaited in a few minutes by the women, and were never used twice. The material was green leaves of Phormium, Astelia, or some similar plant having long leaves. Each little basket contained a quantity of the vegetables cooked, whatever they might be, and on them was placed the kinaki or relish of meat, fish or birds, possibly rats.
Much care is necessary in the selection of stones used in the steam oven, those sought being smooth, waterworn stones of close texture and not liable to be fractured by heat. They are usually three to four inches in length. I have used such stones of greywacke (kara) with good results. In some districts suitable stones are scarce, and, in former days, a gift of a set of oven stones was often a welcome one. These ovens were often made in the open, but there were permanent steaming pits in the cook houses that were used in bad weather. The cook sheds (kauta, kamuri, muri, whare kaunga, hereimu, etc.) were rough erections with the usual thatched or bark roofs. The walls were sometimes composed of trunks of tree ferns set up on end, a durable material. In some cases one or more walls merely showed a few posts, while fuel was stacked up against them so as to form walls, being contained within light secondary uprights.
The process of cooking in a steam oven is described by the verb tao; tunu means to roast, while kohua and huahua both denote stone boiling. The Maori now speaks of tunu ti (tea roasting) because the water is heated at an open fire, and he had no term to describe cooking in a vessel placed over a fire. Stone boiling was done in gourds or vessels hewed from wood, the latter termed kumete. It was not an ordinary mode of cooking, the steam oven being the popular method. Stone boiling was employed in dyeing processes, as we shall see anon. The stones were heated on an open fire and handled by means of a bent stick, often a length of supplejack used as a substitute for tongs, the implement being known as a
pinohi. A stick used to rake hot stones out of a fire is called a kapekape. A wooden implement, called a paretai, was used on the east coast for covering an oven with earth; it was a kind of scraper, while the uru was a kind of wooden spade used in some districts for the same purpose. When suitable stones were unprocurable, pumice stone, shells, or clay might be used in their place. At a native meeting I attended in 1919, the cooks used old discarded horse shoes in place of stones in some of the steam ovens.
To cook food a second time. i.e., when found underdone on an oven being opened, was no common practice, but occasionally done. The process is called tamahana and tawhanarua. It was not allowable in connection with some food supplies, birds for example, for, if these were re-cooked, then
The tukohu method of cooking consisted of placing the food in a gourd vessel, which was then placed in the steaming
pit. Birds and rats were sometimes so cooked in order to save all the fat, for the Maori is a gross feeder and extremely fond of foods containing much fat. The kohupara mode of cooking consists of wrapping the food in leaves and then cooking it in a steam oven. The word kope denotes a similar process. In the tapora method the food is placed in small baskets and then steamed. This is a favoured mode of cooking whitebait and other small fish. Some products, such as
mamaku (the interior part of the trunk of a tree fern— Cyathea medullaris), the interior of the trunk and taproot of several species of
Few vessels were used by our Maori cook. A wooden trough in which to pound certain fruit kernels, gourd water vessels (tahā), plaited baskets, bowls (oko) formed by cutting a gourd in half, or of wood, were used. Seaweed vessels (poha), made from the bull kelp, were used wherein to preserve certain food supplies, principally in southern districts, where the gourd plant could not be grown. Ingenious basket-like open vessels, called patua, were formed by bending sheets of bark of the totara, a Podocarpus, occasionally of the hinau, an Elœocarpus, the miro and tanekaha; a wooden handle served
taha rakau, made in the form of a gourd water vessel, but formed from wood and made in two pieces, as wooden trumpets were formed. The two pieces having been carefully hollowed out and hewn into form symmetrical, were fastened together by means of lashings passed through holes bored in the edges. These joins were luted with a vegetable gum.
Stone bowls were used to a limited extent, as also stone lamps, stones hollowed out to contain fat for a “slush lamp.” A few stone bowls were adorned with carved designs, though not to the extent that wooden bowls were.
Persons of different grades of tapu and importance ate apart at ceremonial feasts. This is one of the aspects of tapu that lead one to compare the institution to that of caste as it obtains in India.
The art of pottery making was never acquired by Polynesians, although they came into close contact with a pottery making people in the Fiji group. As in the case of the use of the bow and arrow as a weapon, it is evident that the art did not appeal to the Polynesian. In many of his island homes he certainly would not find a suitable material, in some he would, certainly in the isles of New Zealand. No remains of pottery are found in these isles; evidently the ceramic art was never practised here.
The ritual formulæ termed taumaha, repeated over food ere it was partaken of, was for the purpose of nullifying any evil influence pertaining to it. Thus it was not a common practice of every meal, but was followed only on certain occasions, as when a present of food supplies was received from some community outside the tribe, or at least from another clan. It was viewed as a polite act to take a small present of food when visiting another village, such a present being known as a puapua or koparepare. It is not meet, sayeth the Maori, that the bare forehead alone should enter upon the village plaza of another community.
The Maori folk have many aphorisms and quaint sententious sayings pertaining to food. Civilised man marvels
kinaki or relish that came to hand was keenly appreciated. In some districts this is so even in these days of many lately introduced plants and products. One sees natives in the highlying Tuhoe district subsisting on potatoes for week after week, the only kinaki being a little boiled sow thistle.
An old saying that illustrates the Maori view of the dignity of labour is the following: “Ehara ta te tangata kai he kai titongi kaki; e kore e rite ki tana ake, tino kai, tino makona” (Food provided by others merely tickles the throat; it never equals that gained by one's own exertions, which is the best and most satisfying of foods). Other sayings warn all against selfishness in the matter of food, and to practise the open hand; thus: “Kai kino ana a Te Arahe” refers to a woman of olden times who ate rich food in secret and gave no portion even to her husband.
Occasionally, as with us, a native may be utterly unable to eat some particular article of food, and the term koto describes this peculiarity. In old times some few persons were quite unable to eat human flesh.
Only in favoured districts of the North Island were the natives able to produce large quantities of cultivated food products. In all other districts they represented but a minor part of the food supplies of the people. In these latter districts the rhizomes of the bracken fern, forest products, and fish, furnished the bulk of the food of the Maori folk.
The Maori larder was deficient in flesh foods; his one domestic animal, the dog, though much appreciated as a dainty dish, was but a rarely tasted luxury. Rats were taken in large numbers in some districts, but not so as to form a common, every-day food supply, and birds may be included in these remarks. This scarcity of flesh food may have assisted in making the Maori the enthusiastic cannibal he assuredly
The fern root, or rhizome already referred to, is called aruhe, and this plant is found growing abundantly in most districts; great areas were covered with it in pre-European days. All fern root does not, however, enter into the Maori bill of fare; some is quite useless; it bears many aspects, probably owing to differences in soil. This important article of food is honoured to the extent of having a personified form or parent, one Haumia, said to be one of the progeny of the primal parents. The rhizome itself is sometimes termed Haumia-roa. The following names are applied to different kinds of the root: Paranui, pawhati, puahou, motuhanga, manehu, paka; these are all edible kinds and some are, says the Maori, excellent, being thick, brittle, and containing few of the black fibres; good roots are an inch in thickness, and the interior shows white when the root is broken across. The terms kakanui and tuakura are applied to inferior kinds not suitable for food. Wooden tools, called ko, kaheru, rapa maire and wauwau, were used for digging up these roots. Places where good fern root grew were resorted to by succeeding generations, and these root digging areas were known as tawaha aruhe. Charms were repeated by the diggers, and, in at least some districts, a ceremonial performance is said to have been necessary ere commencing operations.
These roots were conveyed to the village and stacked on a kind of rack or stage, called a titara aruhe by the Tuhoe folk. It was so left to dry, and would then be conveyed to a store pit or the cook house. In some cases it was placed in a creek or water hole wherein it would keep for a long time. To
patu aruhe, or short wooden beater. It was often eaten at this stage, the hard fibrous part being spat out after mastication. A better method was to pick out the fibres, submit the edible matter to another pounding and another roasting ere it was eaten. Or the starchy edible matter was formed into cakes (komeke) or rolls that were roasted at a fire as before. These rolls soaked in the juice of the tutu berry were considered to be very tasty. Komeke aruhe formed good provender for a journey, we are told. The chewing of these roots was hard on the teeth; I have seen many old skulls containing teeth so worn that the grinders must have been worn pretty well down to the gums, but every tooth as sound as the proverbial bell. This starchy food is said to be a very sustaining one, but it is certainly unpalatable to Europeans; its use is now quite given up. It is alluded to by the Tuhoe folk as “Te manawa nui o Whete” (the sustaining power of Whete), for that ancestor would consume a large quantity of it ere taking part in a fight, wherein he would perform prodigies of valour. It was considered unlucky to pound these roots at night, hence the saying: “Kaua e patu aruhe i te po, he upoko tangata, he tohu aitua” (Do not pound fern root at night, a human head, an evil omen); your head may be pounded by an enemy ere long.
Though not a luxurious diet, yet fern root was always obtainable, and so prized. An old saying has it: “Ka ora karikari aruhe, ka mate takiri kaka” (Fern root diggers survive when parrot snarers are in sore straits). Birds are taken only in the proper season, but fern root is ever available.
The roots of the perei, an orchid (Gastrodia Cunninghamii) afforded a meagre food supply. Several species of Cordyline were of much more importance, C. australis being much used in the South Island. This was used to some extent in the North Island, but here the people possessed two species better suited to the purpose These were C. terminalis, grown only in the far north, and probably introduced from Polynesia (? Sunday Island), and the ti para or ti tawhiti, an unnamed species formerly cultivated in many parts of the island.
hangi for about twenty-four hours. This softens the product very much and it is then seen to be composed of many fibres surrounded by a considerable quantity of fecula that may be compared to sago; it is this fecula that was eaten, the fibrous matter being rejected. It has a sweetish taste, though leaving a somewhat bitter after taste in the mouth. Curiously enough I have never heard that this meal or sago was freed from its fibrous matter and formed into cakes, as sago was treated in the western Pacific, and as the Maori worked up the edible matter of the fern root and the bulrush. The roots of the two species above mentioned are also said to have been utilised as the trunk was, but apparently not so frequently.
In the case of C. australis, South Island natives tell me that only young trees were suitable for the purpose of food, those having a trunk of but a few feet in height. This species was not cultivated, but grew wild only; it attains a height of thirty to forty feet in some cases. The small trunks referred to were treated as described above, the pieces were placed in baskets, and placed in the steam oven. These steamed pieces were often dried and kept for a considerable period; when required for use they would be soaked a while in water. South Island natives sometimes separated the fecula from the fibres, but so far as I know did not form it into cakes. They sometimes mixed it with water into a sort of gruel, and so used it; in this form it was called waitau kauru; the fecula is termed para.
The inner part of the root of the raupo bulrush (Typha augustifolia) provided a very meagre and unsatisfying article of food. Occasionally the pollen of this plant was collected for the purpose of making a kind of bread.
In some districts the berries of the hinau (Elœocarpus dentatus) were collected in large quantities as a food supply. The mealy matter was separated from the stones by a pounding and sifting process. Of this meal a kind of gruel was sometimes made by mixing it with water and cooking it by
wai haro, apparently an old name, for at Niue Island, in Polynesia, scraped coco-nut and arrowroot boiled is called vai halo. As a rule, however, the meal was mixed with water, kneaded into a paste and formed into somewhat large cakes. These cakes were then cooked in a steam oven; they are very dark coloured and heavy, oily, and unappetising to Europeans. They will keep for a considerable time, and were much appreciated by the folk of pre-potato days.
The kernels of the fruit of the tawa tree Beilschmiedia tawa) formed an important food supply to people dwelling in high-lying regions, where but little cultivated food was produced. The kernels were freed from the surrounding pulp and cooked in a steam oven, in which they were left for about forty-eight hours, then spread out on mats to dry, after which they were stored for future use. When prepared for eating they were placed in a wooden trough
From the small berries of the tutu was prepared a minor food supply, a luxury occasionally indulged in, and which was of the consistency of jelly. The soft ripe berries were crushed and poured into a conical bag termed a pu tutu, and made by plaiting narrow strips of Cordyline leaf. This was lined with the panicles of the toetoe (Arundo conspicua), which served to retain the poisonous seeds (huarua) of the fruit. The juice of the fruit dripped into a bowl set below the suspended pu or bag. After a while the juice loses its fluid condition and becomes tetepe, or set. It is in this condition that it is eaten, sometimes with fern root, as a tasty kinaki, or relish. On the coast a species of fucus was sometimes eaten with this jelly. Groves of the tutu shrub were sometimes protected by means of a rahui, lest the fruit be taken by persons having no right to it.
The small berries of several species of Podocarpus, the matai, totara and kahika, as also of the rimu (Dacrydium), were eaten, but formed together but a very unimportant food supply. The fruit (ureure) and flower bracts (tawhara) of
the kiekie (Freycinetia Banksii) were considered a dainty food, and the ripe berries of a number of other plants and trees were readily eaten by children. The young unexpanded leaves of the nikau palm ( Rhopalostylis sapida), of divers species of
Under the generic term of harore we find a number of fungi that were eaten in former times. In the case of the tawaka, a species of Agaricus, a superstition prevails that if any person who has lately eaten of it enters a gourd patch, then the fruit of that plant will not mature, but decay prematurely. The hawai species was sometimes eaten raw, but the puapua-a-Autahi is poisonous in that condition and had to be cooked. The hakeka or fungus of commerce (Hirneola polytricha) was also eaten.
Of cultivated food products, fish, birds and rats, we will speak hereafter, but a few other items of the food supply demand mention. Seals in southern districts occasionally furnished a banquet, and a stranded whale the same in many coastal districts. We have seen that the large lizard, called tuatara, was formerly eaten, and so also were many species of earthworms. The latter were put into warm water in a bowl, allowed to remain there for some hours, then some steamed greens were added to the mess, when it was ready for eating, a dish that the gods who live for ever would smile at the sight of. The more high prized species, such as the whiti and kurekure, were considered great delicacies, and formed a much-favoured o matenga or food for the death journey, the last food partaken of by a dying person. The wood-boring grub, called huhu, the larva of the beetle Prionus reticularis, was much esteemed as an article of food. The grub called mokoroa was eaten, also the moka, and a small green beetle, called kekerewai, that is found on the manuka scrub. These latter were mashed up, mixed with bulrush pollen, packed into a form of basket (tapora) and so cooked in a steam oven. In times of great scarcity a kind of clay, called uku, was eaten,
Water was the only drink known to the Maori of yore. Drinking water was kept in gourd vessels as a rule. A dainty custom of old was, when handing water to a guest in a small bowl, to lay several green fern fronds on the surface of the water. The appearance of these fresh green fronds has, quoth my native informant, an appetising effect.
The dog was the only domestic animal possessed by the Maori, and it was brought hither from Polynesia in long past days. It was a low-set animal of a very foxlike aspect as regards its head. The word for dog is kuri, often pronounced with the last vowel long. Possibly there were two varieties of this animal, certain remarks in old traditions seem to point that way, known as ruarangi and mohorangi. It was not a very useful creature, but was employed in hunting night-moving birds, such as the kiwi, and also ducks in the moulting season. Crozet, one of the most reliable of early observers, wrote of the native dog as follows: “The dogs are a sort of domesticated fox, quite black or white, very low on the legs, straight ears, thick tail, long body, full jaws, but more pointed than those of the fox, and uttering the same cry; they do not bark like our dogs.”
Early observers agree on the fox-like appearance of the animal and the fact that they did not bark. Their long hair was prized for the adornment of weapons, etc., and the skins for garments. They were apparently lacking in intelligence. Their bushy tails were also used to adorn garments. Parkinson tells us that they resembled the dogs of Tahiti, and Forster remarked that these dogs had but a poor sense of scent. Their flesh was considered a delicacy.
A Maori tradition tells us that there were large animals in a land adjacent to a former home of the Maori people. The terms kuri and kararehe were applied to all introduced European animals by the Maori, until they learned their proper names. Thus the horse, which caused great amazement, was described as a kuri waha tangata (a man-carrying dog, or beast).
Of the gait of native women we have already spoken; it was an acquired one, not a natural mode of walking. Men walked in a more natural and more dignified manner, but the Maori never acquires a rapid gait. When, in past years, we employed native contingents in bush fighting operations, the manual exercise of arms was easily acquired by recruits, but the quick march had to be literally learned; it was not a natural acquirement. When travelling in old barefoot days a much-favoured pace was a short stride trot called toiha, a shuffling mode of progression. In carrying heavy burdens on the back the Maori excels, and always there were on every path small clear spaces used as resting places. Those on hill country are called taumata, and are usually at places commanding a view of the surrounding country.
In sitting the Maori favours the cross-legged position to a great extent, also squatting on the heels; no raised seats were formerly used. Women do not sit cross-legged but bring both legs to one side; squatting down with the buttocks on the heels is a favoured posture when engaged in certain tasks, such as preparing food, weeding crops, etc. Sitting cross-legged does not cramp a native's limbs as it does ours. Both sexes squatted down during micturition, but certain mannerisms and habits are now undergoing a change, owing to contact with Europeans.
In former times, when camping out in wet weather, natives did not lie down, but assumed a kind of squatting position for sleeping, so that the rough shoulder cape carried would cover them as a tarpaulin. In sleeping beside a fire a Maori likes to lie broadside on to it, often with his back to it, hence such a camp fire is termed an ahi kopae. Travellers sleeping under a wharau or rude temporary shelter lie side by side, with a fire at their feet.
A very old and peculiar native habit, a survival of the ages, was that of covering the mouth when sitting down. It was an instinctive habit, with men at least; I am not sure about women, but, owing to the adoption of European garments, is now seldom seen. In past years, when the blanket was much worn, as soon as a man sat down he drew the blanket over his mouth so as to cover it.
The native habit of covering the head seems to present a different aspect, having a definite purpose or accompanying certain conditions or actions. Thus it was practised when a person was overcome with emotion, as by grief or shame, by a person about to be killed, by persons mourning for the dead. On the other hand we have a record of a story of a young person who was captured by enemies when in a state of nudity. One of the men who slew (and ate) her related how she endeavoured to cover her person with her hands, leaving her head exposed to the fatal blow of the tomahawk. The grim old savage who related the incident moralised on the power of the feeling of modesty in that girl.
In years past we used to see natives covering the head, as when two friends met after long separation, or after the death of a relative. They would sit down opposite each other, press their noses together, cover their two heads with a blanket or cloak, and commence the doleful sounds emitted by natives when mourning the dead. The hongi, or native salute, was not a matter of “rubbing noses,” as it is so often miscalled, but those organs were simply pressed lightly together.
Though adopting an energetic tone and manner in many cases, as when making a speech, yet many natives of the chieftain class are possessed of a quiet, dignified manner and tone. This quiet demeanour is appreciated by the people. I was once impressed by a remark made by a native with whom I was conversing. A European came to my tent to deliver some message, and then departed, whereupon the native said to me: “I think that man must be a person of good birth, because he spoke in a gentle tone of voice.”
A Maori has not the conventional forms of apology that we employ, but nevertheless uses certain phrases conveying much the same meaning, such as “I am in error,” and “My fault,” and so on. When asking a question that he thinks needs some apology, he will say: “Koi pouri,” or “Kei pouri koe,” equivalent to “Be not annoyed.” Another, and very singular form of such apologetic sayings employed when asking a question is: “Koi pouri; he kaha uia te kaha,” which conveys a pronounced sense of deprecation. The Maori possessed many polite forms of speech; he was punctilious and regardful of the feelings of others. The chieftain class was
lex talionis, a comparatively modern feature, has resulted in a decay of polite forms. A mistaken estimate of independence makes for a lax form of social behaviour.
We have seen that it is “bad form” to directly ask a native his name. When so asked, as, for instance, by a European, he will sometimes get a bystander to divulge his name. Personally I have generally adopted the plan of asking a third person to give me the information.
In beckoning to a person at a distance to approach, the Maori does not hold the hand up as we do, but extends it downwards. Green branches or garments were waved in the welcoming of a party of guests, and such branches were also in evidence when natives first met Europeans, as related by Cook and other early voyagers in these seas. The tungou or upward nod of the head denotes assent; it is usually accompanied by a lifting of the eyebrows; the latter given alone often carries much significance. The act termed kapo is a raising of one arm over the head and the closing of the fingers; the word means “to clutch.” This act is employed by a person when some one calls out to him from a distance; it shows that he has heard the remark and will act upon it. If the shouted remark chance to be an insult, then the kapo denotes that it has been heard and will be avenged. A sign of friendship, and often of protection, is to double the fore-finger of the right hand and place the projecting second joint thereof to the tip of the nose; it betokens the hongi or nose salute. Many a person's life has been saved by this sign. Suppose the case of a man encountering a party of an enemy
The whakarewha, or sideways glance, is a sign suggestive of a secret attack on a third person, or something similar. To shut both eyes and nod the head downwards is a sign the significance of which depends on the particular conditions of the case. I have seen it used to induce a person to drop a particular subject of conversation.
Should a Maori wish to give you an idea of the height of, say a dog, he would hold his hand in a horizontal position, as we do. But to show the height of a child he always holds his hand in a vertical position, the reason being some prejudice connected with tapu.
Gestures come kindly to the Maori, and he makes a free use of them. It is highly interesting to watch and listen to a native narrating some incident, especially if that incident be an old-time fight; his gestures are the illustrations of his discourse. I have often admired a gesture evolved by the Maori after he became acquainted with firearms. In order to illustrate a heavy fire of musketry, he will open his hands, and, with widespread downward pointing fingers, rapidly dart his hands down several time in succession to illustrate the hail of bullets.
Facial distortion was much practised, and in thrusting out his tongue to abnormal lengths the Maori is a world champion. He has also amazing powers of rolling his eyes, both feats being doubtless the result of prolonged practice. The elderly women who have served a long apprenticeship in the performance of posture dances, have acquired the power of forcing the stomach upward in a curious and far from pleasing manner.
In counting the Maori will often open his fingers out one after another, but in tallying generations of a genealogy he does so by closing them, one after another, on the palm.
In olden days signalling to a distance was performed by fire, by smoke, by human semaphore, and by sound, employing in the latter case two forms of trumpet, to be described
rotarota, while whakapua denotes smoke signalling. Certain arm signals are as follows:—To raise the arm and wave it twice outward from the body signifies that the person so signalling is about to go somewhere. To strike the buttocks twice denotes that he is staying. To raise the arm and place the hand on the top of the head, with arm bowed out, means that the other person is to join the signaller. To hold the arm outstretched, with the hand open, is a sign of dissent, while the kamu, or closing of the hand, is a token of assent. These are east coast usages. The tuohu, or lowering the head and keeping it in that position, may mean that a person feels himself to be worsted in an argument, or that he requires time to consider some subject. When a man wishes to enquire from another at a distance: “Is it safe for me to advance?” he raises both arms, overlaps the hands, and places them against his forehead, both elbows projecting. To answer “It is dangerous,” a person would raise the right arm quickly three times, each time touching the top of the head. To signify “It is well, come on,” the right hand is raised to the head once, then the arms are folded across the breast. Such were some of the waitohu or signal signs of yore.
When raids from hostile tribes were expected a look-out might be stationed on some hill near the village, whence he could signal to the hamlet, where a man might be stationed on one of the puwhara or elevated fighting platforms. If the look-out detects people approaching he waves both arms down-wards; if a numerous party he will wave them to and fro while stretched downwards. If he recognises an enemy force he crosses his arms in front of his head. If women and children accompany the party he clasps his arms over his breast three times. The accounts given by natives of their ancestors having signalled long distances by such mediums as thunder, and lunar and solar haloes, etc., are more suited to the myth department than this veracious chapter.
Doubtless such signs (tohu) as we have described differed to some extent in different districts; natives themselves assert that such was the case. Among the southern Kahungunu folk two sticks tied together in the form of a cross denoted the presence of an enemy force in the district. Such a sign might
(taupa) the one he was not pursuing with a branch, or some bracken.
Ritual pertained only to patrician marriage—Roman forms of marriage—Wife purchase unknown—Punctiliousness a Maori usage—Social organisation—Sub-divisions of tribe—The family group—Prohibited degrees—Incestuous marriages—Polyandry not practised—Polygamy—Nuptial nomenclature—Marriage with slave—Puberty—Youthful cohabiting—Marrying age—Puhi—Tohi rite—Duties of chiefs—Girl confined to hut—The whare motunau—Wife choosing—Betrothal—Advantages of inter-marriage with other clans—The toro or envoy—Betrothal gifts—Native etiquette at meetings—Ceremonial of betrothal—Courtship—Proposed marriages discussed by people—Ritual and laic marriages—Quipu love messages—Kai-tamahine—Disappointed lover resorts to magic—Girls demanded in marriage—Boy asks for girl—Atahu, a curious usage—White magic employed—Bird employed as mediumistic messenger—Left hand used in rites—Objects passed under left thigh—Baptism in ceremonial—Second sight—Temporary wives—Marriage feast—Ritualistic marriage—Girl adorned for marriage—Common form of marriage—Three forms of marriage—Pākūwhā—Special house built—Gifts to young couple—Return feast to husband's relatives—Wedding guests armed—Wife taken by force—Illegitimacy—Adultery—Muru or legal plundering—The taupa charm—Divorce—Origin of ritual—The levirate—Widows—The house of mourning—Suicide of widow—Unequal marriages—Duties of husband and wife—Filiation—Primogeniture—Inferiority of woman—Sexual act a sin—Anthropogeny—Two forms of myths—Origin of woman—The eel and the woman—The fall of man—Female element represents misfortune and death—Maori and Asiatic myths.
In describing the customs and ritual pertaining to marriage among the Maori folk, we are confronted with the same peculiarity as when dealing with similar observances regarding birth and burial, namely, that ritual performances pertained only to what may be termed the higher class. The more important the family, the more elaborate was the ceremonial pertaining to birth, marriage, death, burial and exhumation.
This subject of the patrician marriage among the Maori is one of interest, as illustrating the advancement of a people and a gradual elevation of womanhood and marriage. In this process of evolution we note that the Maori had attained to the highest form of conjugal union, as marked by the ritualistic ceremony, although it was practised only among families of the first rank; that is to say, it was the aristocratic marriage.
In his work, “The Evolution of Marriage,” Letourneau mentions the three kinds of marriage that obtained among the Romans:—
In all these forms of marriage the old usage of looking upon a wife as the “property” of the husband was retained, even in the usus, resulting from a simple continuous cohabitation, without contract or ceremony.coemptio, or purchase; the legal regulation of the primitive marriage by purchase.confarreatio, or aristocratic marriage. This was the ceremonial marriage, a function conducted by the high pontiff of Jupiter.confarreatio, and this was also the case among the Maori.
It may be here remarked that it was not a Maori custom to purchase wives, and even the ordinary folk of lower rank seem to have advanced beyond the first type of marriage above mentioned. Although no ritual performance occurred in such marriages, yet they were matters of deliberate arrangement by relatives, conducted according to ancient usage, and accompanied by such functions as speech-making, formal presentation of gifts, and ceremonial visits. For ever it must be borne in mind that the Maori was a most punctilious people, a folk who laid much stress on conducting social, political and religious functions in the orthodox manner. To ignore or flout such usages would simply be to ignore public opinion, one of the strongest feelings among this communistic people. Acting contrary to tribal opinion was a course that no Maori could pursue for any length of time.
The unwritten rules pertaining to the arrangement of marriages were very generally recognised and followed. Occasionally they were infringed, as by the elopement of a young couple to whose union objection was made and upheld, but such a matter would be arranged by the clan, or sub-tribe, upon the discovery or return of the young folk.
As a rule the Maori people were endogamous as regards the tribe, and often in regard to the sub-tribe, while a person might even marry a member of the same family group, so long as he kept outside the line of prohibition which was drawn at the second generation from a common ancestor. The third generation from a common ancestor may intermarry.
In former times marriages with persons of another tribe were not common, on account of there not being much intercourse between the different tribes in pre-European times. When such did occur, they were often, perhaps usually, arranged for political reasons, as to cement a peace after war. Marriages with persons of another hapu of the same tribe were very much more common; in fact, such would probably constitute a large proportion of the marriages, except in the case of a large sub-tribe. As to marriages within the family group, such depended entirely on the descent of the members of that group from a common ancestor, as explained above.
In illustration of the boundary line below which the Maori is exogamous as with regard to the group, the following items
The other case was that of Rangi-tere-mauri and Hapine, who, as will be seen, are of the third generation— from a common ancestor, namely Te Rangi. This marriage was objected to, but such objections were overborne when it was proclaimed and admitted that such an union was according to the ancient custom, and, moreover, the marriage had been duly and properly arranged by the relatives of the young couple. The Maori, ever punctilious and conservative, lays great stress on the deliberate and proper arrangement of any function. Reverting to the above genealogy we may observe that a marriage between Tangira and Te Akiu would be deemed incestuous, and hence it would be strongly condemned and probably forbidden.
In regard to the Maori view of the marriage of persons of a closer relationship to each other than that of second cousin, it may be said that the belief is that such unions are followed by degeneracy in the offspring, a belief expressed in one of their numerous apothegms:—
E moe i to tuahine, he itiiti.”
The terms used to denote incest are moe tuahine, irawaru, and ngau whiore. The first of these may be rendered as “sister marriage,” though the term tuahine also includes a man's female cousins. The other two expressions relate to dogs. Irawaru, in Maori myth, is the origin or personified form of dogs; he was a brother-in-law of Maui-tikitiki, the hero, and was turned into a dog by him. At the island of Niue incest is called tikitiki, or ti'iti'i, showing the dropped k. The third expression above given means simply “tail biting,” and a person who commits incest is compared with a dog that bites its own tail.
It will be seen that Maori custom did not forbid intermarriage among a group of slightly related people, or even marriage within the family group, as is noted among some barbarous races; he simply demanded that a couple be at least three generations removed from a common ancestor. The writer has known a man to be expelled from his tribe for incestuous conduct, but such acts do not appear to have been common. Tribal opinion is strong among communistic folk, and acts as a powerful deterrent.
When two members of the same whanau or family group wished to marry, their elders often expressed their approval of the match by saying: “E pai ana kia moe korua ko to tuakana; kia kanga iho ano korua, kanga iho ki a korua ano,” meaning that should they, when irritated or engaged in a quarrel, insult each other, it would be no serious matter, but merely a family jar. The real or hidden meaning (to us) that lies behind this remark is the fact that, in former times, when a woman married into another tribe, or sub-tribe, and chanced to be insulted or ill-used by her husband, serious complications might arise. Many inter-tribal fights have so originated.
The Maori quite recognised the difference between real filiation and adoption. Any man was free to marry an adopted daughter of his parents, so long as she was not a nearer relative to him than a second cousin.
There is no evidence that polyandry was ever known among the Maori; their traditions and myths all point to monandrous conditions in past times.
As a rule monogamy was the ordinary condition of the people, but polygamy obtained to a certain extent, and apparently
rangatira class. Such a man might have two wives; in fact, many men of rank are said to have had two free wives, and, in some cases, more, but not often. Also he might have one or more slave wives, who were usually allotted menial tasks, and may be better described as concubines. The children of these slave wives would be free persons and looked upon as members of the tribe.
After the arrival of the early missionaries polygamy became less common, the practice being condemned by that body; but occasionally one notes cases of it. A few years back the writer knew a member of the Tuhoe tribe who had three wives, all living together, and another who had two. In the latter case the wives lived at separate hamlets, the husband spending a portion of the time with each, for the two women were by no means friends. The latest case of polygamy is that of
Polygamous wives seem to be kind to each other's children, but practically all Maori mothers are indulgent, though perhaps such kindness may be said to be of a negative nature.
Consanguineous polygamy was practised. A man would sometimes marry two sisters. Two sisters would occasionally marry two brothers; then if one brother died, the other would take his widow to wife. The marriage of a widow to the deceased husband's brother was an old custom. A few cases are remembered wherein a man married mother and daughter.
One of the most curious marriages that have come under the notice of the writer is that in which one Kahungunu is said to have married the great granddaughter of his older brother, or half-brother Whaene.
In polygamous marriages the first wife taken always ranked above the others, and was known as the wahine matua on that account, the others being termed murimanu. The peculiar affinitative relationship between such wives is described by the expression hoahoa; they are hoahoa to each other. The term hoa is used to denote both wife and husband. A man will refer to his wife as “Taku hoa” (my hoa), though the word also means “friend, companion, mate.” Thus, when wishing to be precise, he will say: “Taku hoa wahine” (my female mate).
All children of polygamous marriages inherited a share of their parents' possessions, such as land, and any personal property they might possess. The offspring of slave wives also had an interest in such lands.
Wives were sometimes given to male slaves, and frequently to vassal peoples, such as a broken clan living under the protection of the tribe.
Chiefs often took more than one wife in a spirit of self-aggrandisement, to increase their own fame and importance, and so as to have extra helpers in the labour of procuring food supplies.
It is clear that polygamous wives did not always agree together, and Mr.
The condition of having two wives is described by the word punarua, while punatoru denotes the possession of three wives.
We have seen that slave wives were often mere menials, engaged in laborious drudgery, such as working in the cultivation grounds, collecting shellfish and other food supplies, as also firewood. When captured in war these hapless women were sometimes secured by having cords plaited into their hair,
There was a certain amount of illicit intercourse among young unmarried folk, but when a girl married all such habits had to be dropped.
It would appear that girls often married young, but it must be remembered that they mature at a much earlier period than do our own folk. Colenso states that girls arrived at puberty at twelve, and even eleven years of age. Males seem to have awaited more mature age before marrying, and often took wives when middle-aged, as slave wives, or the widow of a brother.
An old Maori saying runs thus: “He iti kopua wai ka he to manawa,” meaning that a small pool of water will exhaust your breath. It is applied to cases where people marry too young, though the application is not quite clear to the writer.
Although a certain amount of youthful cohabiting took place, yet the Maori is certainly not libidinous, the men especially being remarkably free from lustfulness.
There is some evidence to show that, in pre-European times, the Maori did not marry so young as he has since our occupation of the land, the missionaries having encouraged early marriages among the natives with a view to putting a stop to youthful immorality. In writing on this subject Colonel Gudgeon remarks that, in former times, young men did not marry until they were 25 years of age, or even older. He concludes with the remark: “We must, then, conclude that a less number of years than 25 cannot safely be assigned to a generation, and 30 years might be nearer the truth.”
We will now glance at a peculiar custom that formerly obtained among the Maori by describing the condition of Puhi. Under this word “
Among the Matatua tribes, however, this term is applied to a girl of good family who was elected or chosen as a person of consequence, and, in one sense of the word, made tapu, that is to say “prohibited.” She was not allowed to become
tapairu. Such a woman often took part in religious ceremonial functions, especially the ritual by means of which tapu was removed from persons, places, and new houses and forts. Having been made a puhi for the aggrandisment of her family and the clan generally, she was provided with several female attendants, some of whom would be girls about her own age. She was not allowed to perform any heavy labour, such as fell to the lot of women generally, but might employ herself in light work, such as weaving the finer class of garments. She performed no menial tasks, such as cooking, and, in some cases, a special house was assigned to her and her companions. Such young women were the patrician ladies of the clan, but there would be very few such in any tribe. They were highly respected and deferred to, and were sometimes long in marrying, so particular were the people about the selection of suitable husbands for them. When good-looking women they were much sought after, and young men, singly or in parties, came from distant parts in order to see them and endeavour to find favour in their eyes.
Should such a young woman fall from grace, the custom was to reduce her to the ranks, as it were, when she would no longer be a puhi, though retaining her rank as chieftainess and a participator in ritual observances.
It appears that when it was decided to rear a female child as a puhi, the curious ritual performance known as tohi was performed over her. This ritual will be described when dealing with customs pertaining to birth. An old native explained to the writer thus: “A puhi is a child over whom the tohi has been performed, in order that she may preserve the mana
Mana=power, prestige, authority.totara tree stands not alone in open country, but only in the forest.’ In like manner a puhi, or chief, is ever surrounded and supported by the tribe. In this connection there is another such saying among our people:
The explanation is that a person, male or female, occupying the high position of ariki or puhi, must be possessed of admired qualities in order to retain the respect and admiration of the people.
Traditions are extant of some famous puhi who became renowned chieftainesses in later life, and commanded the respect of their own and other tribes.
Occasionally a girl who wished to marry a man objected to by her people, was confined in a pataka or elevated hut until she became more amenable to reason. Dr. Savage, who visited the Bay of Islands during the first decade of the 19th century, tells us that a daughter of the chief Te Pehi was so confined for several years “in an edifice every way similar to a dovecote standing upon a single post. … The space allotted to the lady would neither allow of her standing up, or stretching at her length. She had a trough in which her food was deposited.” This treatment was on account of the girl wishing to marry a man of low rank. Another such case occurred on the East Coast many years ago, but they were evidently rare. In such cases elopement was more common, the young couple retiring to the forest.
The whare motunau, a highly curious institution of the island of Mangaia, in the Cook Group, was a widening of the puhi principle, but with perhaps less ceremonial attached to it. In a communication received from Colonel
We have now to look at the custom of betrothal, termed taumau by the Maori; the variant taunaha being a modern expression for the same, not an old time usage. Tamau and tapui replace taumau in some districts.
In the first place is given some information on this subject obtained from natives of the East Coast of the North Island. Having described the tohi rite as performed over a newly-born male child in former times, a native friend of the writer went on to say that after the ceremonial feast which followed that function, it would sometimes occur that a person would rise and propose a betrothal between the male babe and some female child of suitable rank.
A chief of the people, or possibly of a more remote clan, would rise and say: “I claim our grandchild for—,” here mentioning the name of the female child. Now the parents of the child so claimed would be unable to refuse the request, nor would any of the child's elders, or the people generally be able to do so, simply because such a course would imply contempt for the asker and his people, a belittling of their whole clan. In the train of such an action all sorts of trouble would follow. For instance, in some future warfare that child might be captured by those folk formerly affronted, in which case he would certainly be enslaved. Then would be heard the dreadful words: “A slave of mine,” and the stigma would rest upon his descendants down changing generations.
If the parents of the child, or the family group generally, declined the proposal of betrothal, then he who made the request would reply, briefly and significantly, by uttering a well-known axiom: “Waiho ra, E hika! He toi tipu te tangata, he toi heke.” This is equivalent to saying: “Very well, but man grows and declines,” that is, he is strong and weak, fortunate and unfortunate. No further allusion was made to the refusal, but the memory of the affront was treasured, and, long years after, might lead to such an act as refusal of assistance at some critical time.
In some cases a child was betrothed to another of a distantly related clan, or even to one of a different tribe, in order that it might serve as a “cord” by which to draw the assistance of that tribe in war.
It was by no means necessary that the betrothal should take place in extreme infancy; it might occur years after the performance of the tohi, as also in connection with children over whom that rite had never been performed. A clan often appointed a person to visit the elders of a child in order to claim it for one of their own of equal rank. A man of good rank and address was selected for this office. He was known as a toro, and a small party of from five to a dozen persons would accompany him. Such a party sent no preliminary notice to the people to whom they were accredited; it was a form of surprise party.
When the party reached its destination, it would be welcomed and greeted in the usual manner, with speeches and probably a song, on the plaza of the village. Then the visitors would be given food, probably before a house set apart for their use. In some cases the leader of the visiting party then retired into the house and sent word to the local chief that he wished to see him. On the arrival of the latter, he would (if the toro waited for him to speak first) remark: “Inu tai,” equivalent to “Speak!” whereupon the visitor would make known his errand. Should the local man be desirous of having more detailed information, he would say: “Hokia,” an expression implying recapitulation.
As a rule, however, in former times, the toro or envoy would state the purport of his errand before the assembled people, probably on the evening of his arrival. When making known the objects of his visit, he would employ some such formula as the following: “The object of my coming hither is to visit our grandchild, whose fame is great in the ears of man; hence we are seen here.” In order to make known the young person selected by his own folk, he would say: “By A, who married B, is C,” the name represented by C was the child's name, the other two being those of its parents. This would be quite sufficient; his hearers would know the line of descent, and be enabled to judge if the proposed betrothal were a proper one.
Prior to making the object of his visit known, the envoy would lay down before him a present he had brought with him, probably a fine cloak, or a finely worked stone patu (a short hand weapon), possibly made from the highly prized nephrite. Should the meeting take place within a house, then the gift would be deposited under the window. Such a present is termed a paremata, and it would be alluded to as “The paremata of the child of So-and-so.”
As observed, the visitors were in no hurry to explain the object of their visit, and this is in accord with native custom. A party of visitors would be welcomed with much ceremonial speech-making, singing and posture dancing, after which a few of them would reply to the greetings, but probably without referring to the object of their visit. In the evening the party would be entertained in a large house by the village folk; thus it might even be the following day ere any explanation was made. The village folk might be in utter ignorance of the purport of the visit, but no one would think of asking for information on the subject.
Respecting the gifts made at such meetings of the people, it may be explained that presents are never put into the hands of recipients, but laid on the ground before them. Also there is a certain etiquette observed in depositing such items. Thus, if the gift of a cloak or cape is made within a house, the garment is laid down with its lower end towards the window, and the upper, or neck end, towards the rear of the house. The rule is to lay such items with the ua, or upper end, towards the recipient. Then the latter knows and reads the meaning of the act, viz., that the items are a gift to him. The cloak was placed with the ua, or collar, toward the rear of the house, where the principal people of the village would be seated at such a time, it being a custom always to vacate the place of honour near the window in favour of visitors. A gift patu (a short weapon) is deposited with the butt end, the hand hold, toward the recipient. In the case of a taiaha, the tongue end is laid toward the person receiving it.
The presents so made at a betrothal may remain in the family for generations.
Not more than two of the visiting party would rise to make formal speeches, after which a person selected by the
karahia hono, or “joining together” ritual. The chaunting of this ritual by the adept orator was the token that the offer of betrothal was accepted, and its object was to “join” or betroth the two children.
After the recital of the above ritual another curious ceremony was performer in the case of a child who had undergone the tohi rite. The fine dress cloaks used in that ceremony as a carpet for the parents to stand on, as also the weapons (patu) placed under the child's head, were procured and deposited beside the gifts brought by the envoy. The collars of the cloaks were put against or next the collar of that, or those, brought by the visitors, and, in like manner, the butt ends of the weapons were placed together.
Then arose an adept of the village party and recited, or rather chaunted, the ritual that had been repeated in the tohi ceremony over the child. The repetition of this extremely tapu matter had a most binding effect on the agreement, so much so that neither side would ever think of breaking it, for an additional security lay in the fact that the cloaks and weapons used in the sacred rite of tohi were handed over to the envoy and his party. Now, albeit in later times quarrels might arise between the two clans, or even active war, yet that betrothal would stand good, and, on attaining maturity, the young folk would marry.
The ceremonial performances were now over, though the visitors would remain for a few days and be entertained by the village folk ere returning to their homes.
After the envoy and his party had retired, the village folk would hold a meeting, to which the people of neighbouring hamlets were invited. At that meeting the gifts received in connection with the betrothal were exhibited, and it was arranged as to what persons should have the custody of them. In after days it might be asked: “What became of the cloaks of the tohi rite over—?” And one would reply: “They were handed over to—.”
When the children attained marrying age, the gifts in possession of both sides were brought together and exhibited
marae, or plaza, of the village, where the people were assembled in order to witness the function. It was at this time that such gifts were handed over into the possession of the young couple. In after days they might part with such gift items as garments, utilising them as presents on ceremonial occasions, but not so any “hard goods,” such as weapons; these were not parted with.
In connection with such a conventional betrothal and marriage the following aphorism was often employed: “He hono tangata e kore e motu; kāpā he taura waka, e motu”—literally, a human coupling (or joining) will not be severed, unlike a canoe rope or cable, which may break.
This custom of taumau, or betrothal, has been continued into modern times. Years ago a daughter was born to a chief of Wai-rarapa. On hearing of this occurrence a chief named Te Hou-ka-mau, of the East Cape district, sent a toro or envoy in order to ask that the infant girl be betrothed to his own infant son, Te Mana. The gift borne by the messenger was a fine cloak of native manufacture. Upon handing this over to him, the chief said: “Go and convey this garment as a whariki (mat) for the daughter of Te Whatahoro. When the bearer handed over the cloak to the latter, he remarked: “The name is Te Mana.” This was quite sufficient explanation in regard to the infant boy.
In some cases no particular child was indicated, but the sender of the messenger would say to him: “Say to—that I wish one of his girls to be selected for me.” The expression “for me” would mean for his son or grandson. This act meant that he who despatched the messenger had a desire for an alliance with the other clan or family group.
The word taumau bears the fundamental meaning “to bespeak.” Another term to express betrothal is whakapakuwha. It must be observed that ceremonial betrothals occurred only among the higher class families.
An infant girl so betrothed might remain at home until married, or might be taken to live with the family she was to marry into, or she might live alternately with both families.
It is clear that betrothals were often brought about for political reasons, and the higher the rank of the parties
Among some tribes, should a bespoken girl marry another man than the one she was promised to, the deserted one would proceed to the tuahu (spot where rites were performed) of the village, or the village midden, where he would seat himself in a nude condition, and recite a charm to cause the girl to become barren, thus bringing upon her the contempt of gods and man.
It would appear that few natives remained unmarried in former times, a condition that still prevails.
When a man desired a certain girl, the more correct mode of conduct for him was to approach her parents, prior to mentioning his desire to her. They would then ask their daughter if she was agreeable, in such words as: “O maid!—is a person who would be a proper husband for you. What is your opinion of the matter?” For a man to speak first to the girl herself would imply a certain disregard of parental authority. This procedure was by no means universal, but it was considered the correct thing among the higher social ranks.
As a rule, proposed marriages were discussed by a meeting of the family group, and were by no means arranged by the parents alone; indeed, the uncles and grandparents of the girl often had most to say in the matter. It must ever be remembered that all such actions were fully discussed and arranged by the family group, not by the girl's family alone. A communistic social condition is responsible for such a mode of procedure. At these meetings any person who desired to speak, male or female, would rise and address the meeting. The girl would be asked before the assembled people if she was willing to marry the man. The higher the rank of the young couple the more talking resulted, and the wider the circle of those arranging the matter. A study of matters pertaining to marriage among the Maori is of interest, inasmuch as we may note the more primitive style of marriage as a social custom or arrangement being trespassed upon and partially displaced by ritual marriage. Originally a civil institution, the priesthood was just beginning to take over the
Even in cases wherein no formal ceremony was performed, the Maori ever upheld properly arranged marriages conducted in a deliberate and orthodox manner.
Among the matter collected by the late Mr. quipu system of mnemonics.
This contrivance was used to convey a love message or proposal among young folk. Thus in Figure 1, Nos. 1 and 2 are slip knots, i.e., each cord is passed through a loop in the end of the other cord, so that when the cords 3 and 4 are pulled in opposite directions, then 1 and 2 are drawn together. Nos. 5 and 6 are two short pieces of cord looped on to cords 3 and 4. No. 5 represents the woman and No. 6 the man. If a young woman received such a cord from a young man, and looked with approval upon his offer, she pulled the cords 3 and 4, so as to cause Nos. 5 and 6 to be drawn together, when the projecting end of the cord marked 8 was inserted into a loop on a loose end of that marked 7. This betokened acceptance. But if she decided to refuse the offer, she removed the string (No. 5) representing herself, and returned the apparatus to the sender.
She also had another way of manipulating such an item in order to inform the young man of the attitude of her relatives towards the match.
Thus in Figure 2 we can see how she explained matters. Nos. 1 and 2 represent the lovers on this occasion. Nos. 3, 5 and 7 are short pieces of cord tied on to the main cord to represent the male relatives of the girl, while 4, 6 and 8 are similar pieces to represent the female relatives. The position of 3 denotes a male cousin, that of 5 an uncle, and 7 a grandfather. No. 4 represents a female cousin, No. 6 an aunt, No. 8 a grandmother. Thus a piece of string was tied on to one of the main cords to denote each of her near relatives, the position of the attached string explaining the degree of relationship. The cords representing persons who objected to the match had each a knot formed on them, as in Nos. 6 and 7, in Fig. 2. Strings representing those agreeable to the proposed match were left free of knots. All males are represented on the right hand side, and females on the left, because the right side is invariably deemed male and the left female.
The custom known as kai tamahine was one in which a party of young men would visit a village whereat a girl noted for her good looks or other attractions resided. Such a procedure often occurred in connection with a girl who was a puhi, as described above. The object of the young men was to exhibit themselves and their accomplishments, in the hope that the girl would accept one of them as a husband. Such a visit would be made during a season when no special work was in hand, and it was marked by a round of festivities and social entertainments. The villagers would do their utmost to entertain the visitors, while the latter would perform their best in exhibitions of dancing, singing, story telling, athletics and games of skill, in order to please their entertainers and to find favour in the eyes of the young woman.
The expression ringa hoea, or “rejected hand,” implies a rejected suitor, and, in former times, such a misfortune sometimes caused a man to resort to magic in order to punish a woman for refusing him. The repetition of the magic charm, termed a papaki, is said to have had the desired effect of grievously afflicting the woman; indeed, my native friends inform me that such a procedure often caused her death. In other cases the rejected one would carry his grievance to his own people and organise a party to take the girl by force.
Whenever a meeting of folk from different villages, or of different divisions of a tribe, took place, whatever might be the primary object of such meeting, it was always taken advantage of to discuss public affairs, and most affairs were public among the Maori. Thus matters affecting a family group, sub-tribe, or the whole tribe, might be so discussed. At any such meeting any young man who desired to marry a certain girl might rise and say: “Werohia ki au; maku a Mea.’ Literally: “Assail me; So-and-so for me,” meaning: “I want such a girl (naming her); if you object, say so.” Any person who agreed to such marriage would rise and say: “Werohia; e pai ana” (Assail me; I am willing). Those who objected to the match would remark: “Assail me; I am not agreeable.”
At a meeting held anent the exhumation of the bones of Papahi, a young man rose and said: “Assail me;—for me.” Now the brother of the girl so named had, a few years before, been refused the sister of the present asker, hence he rose and said: “Assail me; the sister of—was refused me.” Such was his explanation of his refusal to consent to the proposal.
At the same meeting a little boy rose and called out: “Werohia ki au; maku a Mea.” His elders, as also those of the little girl he mentioned, were agreeable that the children should be betrothed, and so it was arranged.
A man of rank rose and remarked: “Assail me; I have no wife, for the people of this place will not give me one. The brothers object to me. Maybe I can obtain one from another clan.” These remarks much amused the assembled people, because, on account of his rank, he could have had any girl he chose to select.
The curious expression preceding these demands: “Assail me” (or “Thrust at me”) was a challenge to those who might not be agreeable. The above incidents were recorded by Mr. (tao). Then any person who wished to make a complaint, or to ask a favour, such as asking for a certain girl for a wife, would, after repeating a charm to protect himself, walk up to the spearsmen as they stood with their weapons at the present, and cry out: “Thrust at me.” The spearsmen would lunge at him in feint thrust, but would not wound him. The man was then free to make any complaint or request to the assembly that he chose to.
Some explanation must now be given of the curious usage known as atahu and iri. This was the employing of white magic in order to cause a woman to feel affection for a man, or vice versa. A deserted husband or wife would use such means in order to cause the return of the errant spouse. A man would adopt such means to implant affection and desire for himself in the breast of a woman he admired.
We will suppose the case of a man endeavouring to influence the affections of a woman. In the first place he would procure a garment she had worn, or a lock of her hair (these were the most potent mediums). He at once carried such object to the tohunga atahu, or atahu adept. In doing so, however, he had to be very careful to refrain from taking any food, or even a drink of water, from the time he grasped the article until he handed it over to the adept. In late times he has not been allowed to smoke during such period. He must proceed direct to the hut of the adept and not stop or turn aside to any place. Even though he sees the adept at another hamlet, or working in the fields, or travelling, or even meets him on his path, he must take no notice of him, nor even greet him. Were he so to greet him, or stop to give him the article, or even to enquire for him, then his quest would be fruitless, and his errand come to nought. He must proceed directly and silently to the dwelling of the adept. On his arrival there, he must lay his item brought as a medium on the barge board of the house, or suspend it therefrom.
The adept will then ask him: “What have you brought?” He will reply: “I desire that my wife be returned to me by the company of winds,” if his wife had left him. Or it might be a girl's affections that he wished to capture. The adept will then procure a mussel or cockle shell, and say to the applicant: “Expectorate into the shell.” The adept takes the shell in his right hand and, proceeding to a stream, enters it so that the waters reach to his navel. He stands facing the east and chaunts his ritual in rhythmic tones:—
Having finished the chaunting of his charm, the adept places the shell on the surface of the water and causes it to float away up stream until lost to view. He then says to the applicant: “Go; return. She will come back to you,” if it is an errant wife to be returned. Prior to his departure the adept will say to him: “When you reach your home, lie down in your hut. Do not pine; she is coming, and will not be long. When she arrives, do not cajole or revile her, for the whole matter is being performed for you by the gods. When you
Enough! The applicant returns to his home.
The native who gave the above notes many years ago, concluded thus: “Such was the higher form of atahu, as conducted by adepts of the higher schools of learning of these parts (east coast of North Island). Other tribes conduct such matters in various ways. Some indulge in evil magic and use charms pertaining to the lower school of learning. Such a procedure is objectionable, for trouble, even death, may ensue. I have said enough on this subject. Son! never indulge in black magic. If your wife runs away from you, let her go. Who knows what her end will be? My explantion of these matters is now finished.”
A curious and interesting episode in the atahu ceremony, as performed by some tribes, e.g., those of the Bay of Plenty district, was the despatch of a bird, usually the miromiro (Petroeca toitoi) to act as a mediumistic messenger of love to the desired girl or runaway wife, or husband, as the case might be. No matter how distant the desired woman or man, may be, we are told that the little bird would fly direct to such person, and alight on him, or her, usually on the head. Instantly such person would be seized with a desire for the individual on behalf of whom the bird was sent. In most cases the person would at once rise and commence the journey, however long. Is it not on record that the chief Tamatea, of the children of Awa, obtained his wife Manawa in this manner?
An old octogenarian of the Awa tribe, of the Bay of Plenty, informed the writer that the adept would sometimes proceed as follows:—“He carefully notes the wind. When blowing towards the home of the desired woman, he takes a feather in his left hand, passes it under his left thigh, and then, holding it upright in his cut-thrust left hand, he recites his charm, which concludes with an appeal to the winds to waft hitherwards the desired woman.”
In this connection it is interesting to note a smiliar practice concerning the left thigh that obtained in southern Asia in days of yore. In Hewitt's “Primitive Traditional History,” Vol. 2, at p. 620, we read: “They gave him the
Among the Tuhoe tribe an atahu charm was repeated over a young man when he was undergoing the painful operation of being tattooed. This was done to cause women to admire him. The charms employed have been preserved by the narrator, but one needs the assistance of an adept to translate them, so archaic are many of the expressions employed.
This ceremony of atahu was often performed in the evening, and, in some cases at least, the applicant had to enter water in a nude condition and be sprinkled with a little water by the adept during the ceremony. In one case that came under the writer's notice, the adept, a female, said to the applicant while they were in the water: “I can see the wairua [spirit] of your absent husband standing by your side. Return now to your home; in a week your husband will be with you.” In this case the bird is said to have had a long flight to the Gisborne district, over 100 miles away, where it found the erring husband living with a new wife. However, nothing daunted, the bird entered their hut and settled upon the man's head, whereupon he was seized with a desire for his first wife, and at once started to return to her, a journey of some days. Our native friends firmly believe in these stories.
An interesting story concerning this ceremonial and its effect, as related by a native chief, together with some comments thereon, may be found in Vol. XIV. of the Journal of the Polynesian Society, p. 100.
Another method employed in some districts was as follows:—A man who desired to gain a woman's affection would obtain possession of some article that she had handled, or had been in contact with her body, over which he would repeat the necessary charm, and then place it under her sleeping mat secretly, or bury it at a place where she would step over it. Such means were usually adopted in cases where the supplicant was not viewed with favour.
We have seen native women married to men considerably younger than themselves, and it is known that, in former times, middle-aged and elderly men in a good many cases married women much younger than themselves.
The custom of providing a temporary wife for a visitor was recognised here, though not to any great extent apparently, probably because women were very apt to accompany travellers, and even parties on war expeditions. An amusing tale is told of one of our early bishops being offered this accommodation when travelling in the Taupo district. The bishop's companion exclaimed in scandalised amazement at the offer: “What? A wife for the bishop!” And the chief said: “O well, give him two!”
In his work on the manners and customs of the Maori, Polack states that “marriages are blessed by the priesthood, who invoke the sun, moon, stars and the winds to be propitious to the bridal pair.” It was not the case that the priestly adept was employed on all such occasions, however, but only when the parties were members of the higher class families; nor have we so far any proof that all those heavenly bodies and elements were called upon.
Among the Tuhoe tribe the marriage feast was known as the Umu kotore, and, when the couple were of the chieftain class, prolonged preparations were made in the way of preparing food supplies. Two forms of ritual were chaunted by the priest over the couple. One, termed Whakapiri, was, as the word implies, “a causing to cleave.” Its import was to unite the man and woman. The other was called Ohaoha, and was equivalent to a blessing, that the twain might preserve their physical and spiritual welfare, that the wife might prove fruitful, and so on. There was also repeated the genealogy of the bridegroom, commencing with the beginning of things in the very night of time, from chaos downward through gods and heroes to their human descendants, and so to the husband. The first part of such lines are entirely mythical, and, indeed, cosmographical. It included the Sky Parent and Earth Mother, with their supernatural offspring, and so on until genuine ancestors are reached about thirty generations back. The repetition of this item was believed to be beneficial in some way, and to impart force or prestige to the ceremony.
At the ceremonial marriage feast a special oven of food was cooked for the young couple and their near relatives, and these ate apart from the general company. In some cases the wife's sisters would decline to partake of this special food,
In one form of marriage ritual collected among the Kahungunu tribe occur the significant words: “Let your love mingle with my love to express our joy.” The bulk of this chaunt, however, remains untranslated, so archaic and cryptic is the language in which it is couched.
A native of the northern tribes contributes the following: “The elders of the girl prepare her carefully for the marriage function. She is clad in fine garments, possibly a fine feather cloak is the outer covering. Her hair is combed and anointed, she is adorned with plumes of the white heron and feathers of the albatross, as also ear and neck pendants of nephrite or other materials. Her face is rubbed with scented oil, and touched with red ochre. A scent sachet was common on such occasions, suspended from the neck.
“The young man was also carefully adorned, and, if of good family, ornaments such as chiefs wear were assigned to him; also a fine nephrite weapon [mere] was placed in his hand.
“A great feast is prepared. The people assemble on the plaza of the village, where they partake of that feast provided by the girl's parents and her relatives generally. [The parents and other relatives of the husband would entertain his wife's folk at a similar feast when the first child was born, upon which occasion also the latter folk would make a considerable present of food supplies to the husband's relatives.]
“Now the assembled people would feast, dance and rejoice. The young couple sit together, and are addressed by their elders, who say to the husband: ‘Young man, here is your wife; cleave to her; do not abandon her.’ He replies: ‘I will not forsake her; she shall be mine unto death.’ They say to the young woman: “O maiden! Here is your husband; cleave to him; desert him not,’ and she answers: ‘I will not forsake him, even unto death.’ Then they pass the night together in the big house with the people, and are considered permanently coupled.
“Should the pair chance to quarrel after a time, then the wife's relatives take her away from her husband for a while, and then return her to him.”
Male slaves were sometimes taken as husbands by free women, but no ceremony was performed in such cases. Such a man would improve his lot, but would not be deemed equal to free members of the tribe.
Anything in the way of a slipshod mating is known as a moe parae. Such a connection is always looked down upon.
We have seen that the higher form of marriage was confined to members of the high-class families, hence, in the majority of cases, marriage was an arrangement unaccompanied by any religious function, though, in many cases, a good deal of ceremonial pertained to it. Thus there were really three forms of marriage among the Maori folk—
We have now to say something in explanation of the second-grade marriage. This function is termed Pakuwha, and it was a formal handing over of the bride to her husband. As to the amount of ceremonial pertaining to this function, it would depend upon the social status of the parties, their desires or social aspirations, and their command of food supplies. A marriage feast was the occasion of many speeches and general enjoyment. The two principal characters took little part in the proceedings; they were talked at, but said little themselves.
In some cases the feast, reception and speech-making did not take place until after the young couple had been living together a while. The feast was given by the man's relatives, and the woman was escorted to it by her relatives. After a time the wife's relatives would give a return feast, to which the husband's relatives were invited.
Occasionally a special house was built in order to accommodate the bride and her relatives. This house would be known as a pakuwha house, though it would be given a special name, possibly that of an ancestor. No person could occupy it before the visitors arrived, for it would be tapu, and the
After the visitors have partaken of their first meal those of the village folk who have articles to present to the young couple come forward and lay them on the ground before them, usually with but a brief remark such as “Here is an article for you.” Presents are not placed in the hands of the recipients. Such gifts would consist of cloaks, capes, ornaments, etc., the most highly-prized items being weapons or ornaments of greenstone (nephrite). When all these are deposited before the young pair, the man would rise and present them to the relatives of his wife, who are the guests of his people, retaining none for self or wife; “kati ki a raua ko te mana”—the prestige of the act is enough for them. Such was the mode of procedure among the Tuhoe tribe.
The visiting party would stay for some days and be entertained by their hosts; also their own young folk would give exhibitions of dancing, singing, games of skill, etc., after which they returned home. When the young wife's relatives gave the return feast (Whakahoki pakuwha) the young couple would, of course, accompany their party to the scene. This feast and meeting were conducted in much the same style as the first.
A house built for a pakuwha function in the Gisborne district was a gift to the wedding guests, and a valuable one, for it was a very long house, the walls of which were composed of calico and the roof of new blankets.
As a general rule a married couple lived with the husband's folk, but not always.
Such parties of visitors always carried weapons, for, in olden times, no man might say when such things would be required.
The above was the usual mode of procedure, but circumstances sometimes changed it. For instance, a woman was sometimes taken by force. In some cases a party of the would-be husband's folk formed themselves into a party, termed a taua muru wahine, and proceeded to the woman's
The expression takapau wharanui denotes the marital couch, a marriage conducted on orthodox lines and with due observance of tribal custom in such matters. Great stress was laid on such matters, for the term poriro (denoting an illegitimate person) was a serious reproach, and the fruit of a temporary or haphazard union was placed under disabilities and subjected to annoyances.
Although incontinence in an unmarried girl was, in many cases, looked lightly upon, yet adultery in a married woman was a serious offence, and often led to violent scénes. It seems to be more common among women than men. A wife guilty of this sin was, in some case, slain by her own husband. In some cases the latter killed the offending man. Were a husband guilty of adultery he would be punished by his own wife's relatives, who would march in a body to his home and muru or plunder him. After some violent denunciation of the offending one, the cry of “Murua!” (plunder!) would be heard, and the party would make a wild rush and seize and carry off all the man's portable property it could lay hands on. Few things were too hot or too heavy for a plundering party. Nowadays these scenes are not violent; some payment is demanded, and such items as money and horses handed over. Abduction and other offences were punished in a similar manner. The writer has known a piece of land to be made over to a husband's folk by his wife's relatives, on account of his wife having been guilty of a lapse from virtue. Sometimes an aggrieved husband would challenge the offender to fight a duel, but these affairs seldom ended in a death. In former times, when a married man misbehaved with a married woman, both sides were plundered. Even a single woman so offending might suffer in like manner, that is to say, her relatives would do the suffering. Occasionally a man would discard an adulterous wife, or expose her on a public path in spread eagle fashion, her limbs tied to
When a man was about to leave his wife for a time, as when going on a journey, he would, in some cases, recite over her a charm, termed a taupa, which was believed to have had the effect of preventing any person tampering with her. If a man is absent from his wife on a fishing expedition, and chances to hook a fish by the tail, he knows that his wife has been unfaithful to him.
There was a certain ritual pertaining to divorce, but perhaps this was used principally as a means of separating a wife and husband who had no desire to part, that is as a magic charm. Such an act would be brought about by persons who wished to separate the pair, and they would employ a tohunga or priestly expert to perform the ceremony. In polygamy a jealous wife sometimes had resource to this ceremony of white magic, which is termed toko. When the act is a voluntary one, say on the part of a woman, she goes to the adept in order that her affection for her husband or lover be “separated” from her (kia miria tona aroha). The adept takes her to the water side and there sprinkles her with water and takes from her the ahua, semblance or personality, of her affections. He does so by just touching her body with his fingers as though picking or plucking something off it. This “semblance” he washes off, as it were, and so her real affection is miria, effaced or separated from her. At the same time the adept recites a charm (preserved in the original), which may be thus rendered: “Ye two are separated, as were the Sky Father and Earth Mother. May the trees of the forest render your skins sensitive and fearsome. May the plants or the forest, etc. May the nettles of the forest, etc.” This is to cause in the woman a feeling of repulsion towards her husband, to cause her skin to “goose flesh” and to be “like quills upon the fretful porcupine!” Your Maori is nothing if not metaphorical.
The first case of toko, or divorce, known was that of Rangi the Sky Parent and Papa the Earth Mother, when they were forcibly separated by their rebellious offspring, hence the allusion to that act in the above charm.
In these crude rites that we have scanned, in the old-time Maori ceremonial pertaining to birth, marriage, divorce, death, burial, and exhumation, we note the prototypes of our own sacred ritual, forms evolved by primitive man, adapted and developed by old civilisations, and then borrowed by Christianity. Away back in the night of time, ere history began, primitive man began to build up social fabrics by means of tapu, caste, and other restrictions, to render the tribe cohesive and manageable; long forgotten priesthoods grasped at power as our more modern ones have done; they instituted restrictions and mysteries, evolved cults and ceremonial, in order to gain power. The men of the wonderful valleys broke out the trail by which the ancestors of the Maori were to travel in the years that lay before. Ever groping in the gloom of ignorance, ever striving for power, for tribal unity, for knowledge of things hidden, the men of yore evolved rites and laws, crude, necromantic, often puerile, occasionally noble, that impinged upon many myths and were riddled with superstition, but were the forerunners of our own.
The ancient law of the levirate has been followed by the Maori. The brother of the dead man took the widow to wife. If the surviving brother was younger than the defunct he sometimes dropped his own name at such a time and assumed that of the dead, just as we see the eldest son assume the name of his dead father at the present time. The relative ages of the widow and surviving brother did not enter into the question; the latter would take the tapu off the widow and her marital couch. Should the widow, by any chance, refuse the brother, and marry some other man, then the latter might be plundered and his house burned. If, however after having married her brother-in-law, she took a dislike to him, she might get a separation and re-marry.
After her husband's death the widow would remain for some months, possibly a year, in the “house of mourning” (whare potae), which is purely a figurative expression. A widow might commit suicide on the death of her husband, but this seldom occurred in cases where there were young children.
In Maoriland a man does not avoid his wife's parents, as among some peoples. In a marriage wherein the pair are of equal rank, the authority of the husband is greatest, but
mana, or authority.
In one case that came under the writer's notice in Native Land Court procedure, a woman of rank married a man of low birth; hence satisfaction was demanded by her offended clan and the husband's people made over a parcel of land to settle the matter.
Filiation by the male line was most highly esteemed, though kinship is claimed through both parents, and rank of chieftainship is transmitted through both male and female lines. A person inherits property, such as an interest in lands, etc., from both parents, and a woman of rank was, and is, respected and esteemed, so long as her conduct is circumspect. Such women often took part in the conduct of tribal affairs. Primogeniture was universally upheld. Property always had a tendency to revert to the eldest son, who was ever recognised as the one possessing most prestige and authority. A line of descent through the eldest son of successive generations of a family, known as aho ariki, was the most highly prized, though the eldest daughter of a high-class family, who was known as a tapairu or kahurangi, was much locked up to also, and a line of descent through such was held only second to that through eldest sons. Uterine filiation was of undoubted importance, and must not be lost sight of, though the statement made by Letourneau that the Maori adopted agnatic filiation under European influence is quite wrong; it was an old usage. A Maori claims property, such as land, through both parents.
In the peculiar beliefs of the more primitive races we catch glimpses at times of a curious belief that the sexual connection is wrong, is, in fact some form of offence against the gods. We also note that woman is often deemed inferior to man, and her presence to some extent has a polluting effect. Both of these strange phases of mentality may be seen in Maori myth and belief.
We are enabled to give two different accounts of the origin of woman. The more precise form, the sacerdotal version, is given elsewhere in its proper place among the anthropogenic myths of the Maori, but the folk lore or “fireside” version is here inserted. This latter version, or incidents
Description: Tattooed Maori head in This image is not available for public viewing as it depicts either mokamokai (preserved heads) or human remains. The reasons for non-display are detailed in the “Tiki-te-po-mua was the first man created, but he dwelt without a companion. He reviewed all the species of lower
“Now one fine day Tiki found himself beside a calm, clear pool of water, and, looking into it, he saw therein his own reflection. He was delighted with the discovery of what he believed to be another person of the same form as himself, and plunged into the pool to secure a companion for
“The couple lived together for some time without any knowledge of sex until one day the woman entered a stream to bathe. While doing so an eel came to her and so excited her with his tail that she became aware of sexual desire; hence she, in her turn, excited the man, and so came about the fall of man. The woman became with child, and the affair was looked upon as a sin. Then Tiki the man, feeling that the eel had led him astray through the woman, slew it and cut it into six pieces, from which sprang the six kinds of eels.”
This singular myth is apparently a genuine Maori folk story, and is supported by many allusions to the act of the eel in native songs and traditions. In some of these Maui takes the place of Tiki. It is interesting to compare this story with the myth of Eve and the serpent, as given in the Old Testament. It is the same story, though the latter has been glossed over. The snake or eel (there are no snakes in New Zealand) tempted the woman, the latter tempted man, and both fell. This was the sin in Maori myth as in far-away Babylonia. The act itself was the sin. The twain now knew themselves.
Curiously enough, a parallel myth has been noted as preserved by certain folk of India, in which the first woman developed from a reflection.
Had we not so many allusions to this myth in old Maori lore, one would suspect missionary influence, but it seems to be genuine. Here we have an origin for the old-time Maori belief that woman represents misfortune, sin, uncleanness, death; that the whare o aitua (abode or place of misfortune, i.e., the female organ) represents death and holds the power to slay man. It was thus that Maui, he who strove to gain eternal life for man, perished, done to death by the goddess of the realm of death.
Hence is woman unclean during and after childbirth; hence is she employed to destroy tapu; hence is she destructive to man. Thus did man acquire the knowledge, thus did he know death.
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