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VII. “I am An Arawa”

He puképuké maunga, e pikitia e te tangata.
He puképuké moana, e ekeina e te waka.
He puképuké tangata, ekoré e pikitia e te tangata.
The mountain summit can be reached by man.
The waves of the ocean can be topped by a canoe.
The human summit cannot be scaled by man.

Colenso's Maori Proverbs.

The guest-house of Ngatihotu at Rotoaira Pa sheltered no guest that night, for the guest slipped away from the pa at the close of a conference with Nukutea and Rerémoa, and when morning came he was aboard the waka-taua on his way to Motutaiko in Taupo Lake.

Ha! The joyful chant of Te Puku the Fat:

“Paddle! Paddle! Paddle!
How bravely, how bravely
Fly the feathers
That deck our war-canoe
Te Arawa! Te Arawa!
A-ha-aha! A-ha-aha!”

and the deep-chested, full-throated response of the crew:

“ Te Arawa is the War-canoe,
And Tuwharétoa is the Man,”

as the great vessel sped forward in its swirling rush towards the island ahead!.

Motutaiko! On arrival, Tuwharétoa somewhat relieved the curiosity of all by a brief account of the rescue of the Ngatihotu maiden and by an even shorter account of his own return to health and strength. Soon he drew Rata and Marama and Te page 250 Puku to one side, and to them he explained his plans for the coming days.

First, he said, he would aid Ngatihotu against the Whanganuis, who would be sure to attack the pa at Rotoaira before the winter. He mentioned the threat uttered on the previous day. Now then ! Could Ngatihotu be left without a leader and allowed to be overrun by Whanganui or forced into an alliance with Whanganui? Could he, an Arawa, stand by and allow Whanganui to secure a footing near Taupo Lake? No! No! Better to keep Ngatihotu as a barrier against Whanganui until such time as the Arawas themselves would be ready to conquer and to occupy the whole of the Taupo country!.

Also, in repelling attacks upon Rotoaira Pa he would gain knowledge of value, knowledge about the fighting qualities of the warriors from the River, knowledge about the experience and the ability of the leaders of Whanganui.

Moreover, continued Tuwharétoa, he would be able at the end of the fighting to wander about and find out for himself many things, such as the numbers of the River People, the full strength of their war-parties available for a summer campaign, the location and the size of their fighting-pas, the distance of those pas from Rotoaira Lake, and much other information essential for Te Arawa to have.

Furthermore, if a chance should offer he would scale the peaks of Tongariro, and from the tops he would fix the boundaries of the lands which he would claim for his people.

And lastly, he would seek knowledge from Nukutea about many things.

Thus would the days pass until the coming of page 251 spring, said Tuwharétoa, and by then he would be ready to rejoin the waka-taua and to resume his operations upon the Lake.

“O my brother!” said Marama to him as he finished. “One matter thou hast forgotten to speak about. Bear with me as I ask a question. What part will the maiden of Ngatihotu play in thy life at this pa of Rotoaira?”.

Te Puku and Rata rose up and moved away. Tuwharétoa remained silent. Marama began to sob, sob quietly. Then her hand reached out and touched her brother's and caressed it, and in a little while there came reply:

“Daily, O Marama, yes, daily will Rerémoa fight for the existence of her people, and daily will I fight for a secure and a final abiding-place for my tribe. But what the end will be, who can say? Sufficient for the present that the Puhi maiden of Ngatihotu and the Ariki of Te Arawa do not marry—at least, not yet!”.

He called the others back, and he asked Rata to take the waka-taua to the island in the Waikato and to keep it there until the spring. Thus would the winter storms on Taupo Lake be escaped, and the problem of food-supply for the warriors be made more easy. Moreover, the warriors could take turns in revisiting Hikurangi, if they wished.

“Should not half the crew go with thee to Rotoaira?” asked Rata.

“No,” replied Tuwharétoa, “for Ngatihotu would only lean on them and let them do the fighting. Enough, O friend, enough!”.

………..

That afternoon the ariki exercised one of the page 252 privileges of his rank, and with due ceremonial declared Rata and Marama to be man and wife. And some how the happiness of the two and their joy in each other made things hard for Tuwharétoa.

………..

Then later, during the marriage feast, another trial was his, for the warriors made no secret of their delight at the thought of even a short visit to their homes in the north. And when Te Puku, to hide his own emotion, referred with gusto to the pleasure it would give him to see rows and rows of sun-dried eels at Hikurangi after having seen no eels at all at Taupo, Tuwharétoa by a queer turn of the mind was made to yearn for a glimpse of the Pink and White Terraces of Tarawera, with a deep yearning difficult to smother.

………..

That night Te Puku the Fat was in charge of the waka-taua when it drew back from Taupo's shore. A lonely figure was left standing upon the pumice beach, greenstone meré Pahikauré in hand, war-trumpet Te Umu-kohu-kohu raised to the lips. A single wailing and most melancholy note pealed forth. Then the figure moved off—disappeared into the gloom. Te Puku wept. Aué! The rough pathway of a chief!.

………..

Under the influence of a driving force such as the Ngatihotu people had never known before, the works for the defence of Rotoaira Pa daily became more and more complete.

Already a ditch deep and wide stretched along the whole front of the pa, and daily was it extended farther and farther along the palisade at either side.

Within the pa another palisade had been erected, and from the space between the palisades all dwellings page 253 had been removed as a precaution against fire. In place of the dwellings now stood heaps of dampish soil and bracken fern and piles of saplings that would all be needed should breaches be made in the palisades during an attack.

And throughout the pa were those other signs of readiness for a defensive battle—patakas or storehouses full to overflowing, cool earth-pits holding hundreds of hué gourds full of water, piles of rocks and stones and long “huata” spears on the fighting-platform above the entrance gate, piles of weapons stacked up inside the dwellings, and so on. Also, a sure sign of coming danger, there was the absence from the pa of most of the women and maidens and of nearly all the children and old people—sent away to places of safety farther east.

From the very first there had been available an abundance of labour, for an urgent summons from Nukutea had brought to the pa large parties of warriors from the other settlements of Ngatihotu, even from those far away in the foothills of the Kaimanawas.

And how those warriors had stared and gasped when, on their arrival, they had found in command at Rotoaira Pa an Arawa chief, young, but battle-scarred and huge! Then how surprised they had been at the speed with which he had sorted them out—ordering many to the digging and others to the palisading, and without hesitation picking out the best of the warriors for special training for the coming fight! And how they had marvelled at the haughtiness with which he had handled them and compelled them to give him obedience and respect!.

But such warriors! Ai-i! Few of them had ever been in a fight where wounds were seen and felt.

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Inexperienced, unskilled—fit material for a massacre, thought the Arawa as he watched them. It annoyed him to even watch them, let alone train them.

And such a site for a pa! Prettily situated, but so hard to defend! A daily annoyance to one who had seen perfection in Hikurangi Hill! Hikurangi Hill? Auil The longing to see that hill again!.

Other things also annoyed the Arawa—annoyed him greatly.

Learning of his wish to climb Tongariro, Nukutea and the elders forbade him, saying that it was the Sacred Mountain of Ngatihotu, and strictly tapu.

Again, to his nightly efforts to persuade Nukutea to discourse on the origin of the race and about the source of the urukéhu strain, the reply was always the same—taihoa, taihoa, taihoa!.

And so irritating did Tuwharétoa find these and many other things to be, that in his mind there grew up a determination to fight just once for Ngatihotu and then to leave Ngatihotu to the fate that was in store. But Rerémoa? Whanganui? No! Not even for Rerémoa's sake, and not even to preserve her tribe as a barrier against Whanganui, could an Arawa chief put up with Ngatihotu much longer. To think that such a people should be encumbering the Taupo country with their presence and with their claims of ownership! No! Not with such a people would Te Arawa have anything to do. Mere weeds upon the field were they, waiting to be torn up by some strong hand!.

Almost unconsciously the Arawa turned even against Rerémoa. He loved her still, but he avoided her company whenever possible. And she noticed his coldness to her and she grieved over it, but in her heart page 255 she did not reproach him for it. She knew the cause. Taupo had called to him, was still calling to him, would continue to call to him—with a call persistent, potent, compelling.

And against that call, what had she, the maiden of Ngatihotu, offered to this Ariki of Te Arawa? Only her love for him, and the prospect of whisper-songs to come, and some fragments of knowledge that might influence the mind but not the spirit! Not enough! Far from enough for such a man! Not for such things would he turn from Taupo. In the spirit she must reach him, or soon would come the end of her tribe. Aué! How the shadowy chiefs of those carved canoes of the Kaingaroa must have laughed at the weapons which so far she had used in the fray!.

But very bravely she whispered to herself Taihoa.

………..

The first warning came from flocks of birds that rose in hasty flight from a patch of forest hidden by a hill, away there to the west.

The second warning came from the watchmen stationed on trees high up behind the back of Rotoaira Pa.

The third warning came from the booming voice of the war-gong in the pa itself—a huge slab of matai wood hanging between poles and vigorously beaten with a wooden club.

Then over the brow of the hill swept the Men-of-the-River. Ha! The hair bristled at the back of the Arawa's neck. Warriors, real warriors in sight at last!.

Down the slope they came, in admirable formation, one, two, three, four hundred of them and more. And at that distance they seemed to move along with a page 256 creeping, swaying, undulating motion — a most unnerving sight for the waiting Ngatihotus.

“Bind, tightly bind! Be firm! Be firm!” cried Nukutea as he noticed a wavering in the ranks of the warriors at the palisade. Almost had a panic set in before a blow had been struck. The ranks steadied.

Nearer and nearer came the warriors of the approaching taua—much nearer now, painted bodies and tattooed faces easily seen. Big men, tall men, strong men, savage-looking men—teeth grinning above the spears!.

A second time the Ngatihotus wavered, but the Arawa this time was quickly among them, threatening to kill the first man to move. Then from the fighting-tower above the gate came the appeal of the High Chief Nukutea:

“O my people, hearken, hearken! The parent who maintains us is the land. It is all we have. So, live for the land! Fight for the land! Die for the—.

The answer came with a roar as the Ngatihotus, roused at last by the appeal of their chief, responded to his call with a defiant war-dance! Aué! The appalling response of the Whanganuis, now lining the foot of the slope below the pa, as they too gave way to the maddening impulse of the battle-lust!.

The din continued for some time, but as soon as it ceased a tall chief came out in front of the Whanganuis and gazed up at the pa. At once Rerémoa called the Arawa to her side at the palisade, and he peered through.

“’Tis the Ariki Te Kanawa himself,” said the maiden, “and that chief with short-cut hair who joins him now is that Te Hakuwai who gave thee insult.”.

The two chiefs down below kept gazing up at the pa page 257 as if looking for someone, and at last Te Kanawa cried out in loud and impatient tones:

“O Hakuwai, I see the kiwis, a whole host of kiwis, but where is the giant moa-bird that will lead them in the fight? Ha! I would find out some things about that bird. Now then! Where is that bird? I cannot see it. Has it developed wings and flown away? Ah! There it is! A-a-ah!”.

Beside the High Chief Nukutea on the tower above the gate now stood the Arawa. He was stripped to the waist, and no ornaments did he display except his scars. But from his belt there hung a war-trumpet, a shell trumpet of queerest shape. And in his hand was a greenstone meré of unusual length and great beauty. And the man and the trumpet and the meré combined to cause a tremendous stir among the Men-of-the-River.

“Of what Canoe from Tawhiti art thou, O Stranger?” cried Te Kanawa. Then, as if by an afterthought, he added: “Perhaps I have heard of thy Canoe.”

“Perhaps thou hast heard, O Whanganui,” replied Tuwharétoa. “But if not, the fault must rest with thee, for the fish in the water, the birds in the forest, and even the creatures that creep in the scrub, have heard of my Canoe. I am an Arawa.”.

And he raised Te Umu-kohu-kohu on high and sounded it melodiously in honour of his famed Canoe.

From the Whanganuis below came a chorus of friendly greetings. Yes! They knew about the Arawa Canoe, second only to their own Canoe, the Aotea, said they. Then, laughing over their little jest at the expense of the smiling Arawa above, they listened while their leader asked another question:

“Art thou a great chief, O Arawa, among thine own page 258 people—a man of mana, a man of influence, a man of fame?”.

“Kaoré—péa! No—perhaps!” And the Whan-ganuis were greatly impressed by that reply, for had the Arawa been a minor chief he would have boasted mightily about his rank and fame. Keenly interested, they listened again, for their leader was asking still another question now:

“What is the name of thy fighting-pa, O Arawa?” And Tuwharétoa replied:

“ It has a name, but I am trying to forget that name. Now then! Let me give it a new name! Let it be known hereafter as ‘Wai-taha-nui, the Big-Calabash-of-Water, so full that it brimmed over’!”.

“So! So!” remarked Te Kanawa. “Then it seems thou art a wanderer, a man without a home?”.

“Yes—perhaps!” replied the Arawa. Then, well knowing what the next question would be, he added sharply:

“Kua mutu te kupu—the word is ended. Enough!”.

………..

Following the custom in inter-tribal war, the Whanganuis on that first day of their arrival made no attack, but retired to a distance, lest even the Ngatihotus might deem them undignified in their haste to possess the pa.

Yet their scouts remained near by, hovering around continually in unsuccessful efforts to find out the width and the depth of the great ditch. But near that ditch the Arawa would not allow them to go, lest they should find out the length needed for light bridges to cross it.

The afternoon passed quietly. Then came night, page 259 and while the Whanganuis waited impatiently for it to pass, the Ngatihotus dreaded the dawn that was to come, and sought to beat down fear with martial sights and sounds — watch-fires blazing, warriors dancing, war-gong booming, trumpets sounding, and leaders haranguing until about midnight.

Thereafter a strange quietness came over the pa, and no sounds were heard except the watch-cries from the towers. A little while, and one by one the sentries ceased their chanting. A little while, and one by one the watch-fires died down, leaving the pa in deeper and deeper gloom. And so long did the silence continue that to enemies outside it seemed obvious that the whole pa slept, slept soundly. But towards morning, and just as the Whanganuis crept up to the ditch, there came from out the blackness ahead a mocking chant:

“A-ha-aha!
The gods of darkness have not shown to me
Within the bounds of Rotoaira Pa
Piled heaps of dead at coming dawn of day.
A-ha-aha!”

For a moment, from sheer disgust with themselves for having been deceived as well as discovered, the Men - of - the - River remained silent. Ai-i! That Arawa! Then, with a savage roar, the warriors in front hurled themselves forward, leaped short, and crashed down upon each other in struggling, yelling, heaps at the bottom of the ditch. Ha! The commotion in that ditch!.

Over the top of the struggling warriors now rushed other Whanganuis, striving desperately to climb the high bank and the high palisade on the farther side. And down upon them came a shower of rocks and stones from the fighting-tower above the gate.

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In vain did fresh ranks of the Whanganuis seek a clear run at the palisade so that it might be broken through by sheer weight and strength. The light and narrow bridges they carried were far too short to bridge that Arawa ditch. So over the top of dead or dying or living and struggling warriors rushed still further warriors who used those bridges as ladders, and from those ladders sought to climb over into the pa.

But at their sides thrust unseen spears that pierced. And down upon their heads swung unseen clubs that crushed. Alas! The death-cries of many brave men!.

At last, discomfited, decimated, fatally hindered by the very darkness which was to have been their aid, the Whanganuis retired to the base of the slope before the pa, leaving behind them in the ditch about forty of their number in piled heaps of dead to await the dawn of day.

………..

Throughout the morning that followed, three further assaults were made upon the pa, and each assault was of greater intensity than the preceding one.

During the first of these assaults the Whanganuis made a bridge of bodies across the ditch, and over that bridge they carried the trunk of a tree with which they smashed a way through the palisade; then through the gap they poured. But at them, straight at them came the Arawa and his Ngatihotus, and after a terrific struggle drove them back into the ditch outside. Then quickly the Ngatihotus closed the breach with sapling stakes and alternate layers of earth and fern, and soon the palisade was strong again.

During the second assault the Whanganuis, vigorously led by their chiefs and greatly aided by longer page 261 bridges which had been quickly built, broke through the outer palisade in three fresh places simultaneously, only to be attacked again by greatly superior numbers of Ngatihotus the moment they entered the pa.

But this time the attackers squeezed big groups of the defenders between the three parties that had entered, and soon, to Nukutea and Rerémoa watching from the inner palisade, it was clear that the Ngatihotus were suffering fearful losses at the hands of the skilful, experienced, and savagely-determined fighters from the River. Clear also was it to them that only the superhuman efforts of one man were barring the way to a complete victory for the Whanganuis.

“See!” cried Rerémoa to her father as the Arawa went bounding past. “He charges now upon a thicket of spears. Aué! He will be slain. No! He has leaped over the spears and the warriors behind, and has reached the chief Te Hakuwai, and has slain him, and has plunged through to safety on the other side. Ha! Back he comes now with our Ngatihotus behind him. Lo! He cleaves a path through the enemy as a wedge of mairé wood splits open a fallen tree. Through, safely through! Oh, my Arawa, my Arawa!”

And when at last the Whanganuis, temporarily exhausted, began to retire in good order through the gaps in the palisade, leaving behind them piled heaps of Ngatihotu dead within the pa, Rerémoa turned to her father again and said:

“The truth cannot be hidden. Alas! Whanganuis as well as Tuhoes and Arawas are like the kernels of the fruit of the tawa tree, exceedingly hard and not easily broken. But our people of Ngatihotu are as the soft pulp of the tawa berries, easily crushed in the page 262 hand or under the foot. Aué I fear that the next assault will mark the end.”

And the same fear was with the Arawa, for he hurried across to Rerémoa and begged her to escape from the pa into the forest while yet there was time. But she would not go, and reluctantly he left her and hastened back to the palisade, and urged on the Ngatihotus who were blocking up the gaps.

Then he noticed the Whanganuis collecting brushwood and dry fern and the boughs of trees, and at once he ordered wet earth to be thrown upon the thatched roofs of the dwellings close to the inner palisade, lest flames or sparks carried by the wind might bridge the space between the palisades and set fire to the whole pa.

Yet the effort was wasted, for the Whanganui leader made no attempt to fire the pa. Instead, great heaps of scrub and fern were placed outside the ditch and set on fire and fed with leafy boughs, green and damp. Soon great billows of pungent smoke rolled over into the pa, and behind this screen the Whanganuis chose their points of attack and broke through where they willed.

In the fury of the onslaught that followed, a panic seized those of the Ngatihotus who had come from the Kaimanawas, and they sought refuge behind the inner palisade. But the warriors from the shores of Taupo Lake and of Rotoaira fought bravely, if weakly, and they did their best to obey the Arawa as his rallying-cries, “Kia kaha! Kia toa! Be strong! Be brave!” resounded above the din of conflict.

Suddenly, a change in the wind caused the smoke to blow to one side, and to the dismay of the Arawa he saw Rerémoa leading the Kaimanawas back into the fight. One section of the Whanganuis saw them also page 263 and, rushing to meet them, seized the maiden and easily put the Ngatihotus to flight again.

Then down upon those Whanganuis came the Arawa and the men of Rotoaira with an irresistible rush, and in a moment Rerémoa was swept up into strong arms and carried off to temporary safety behind the inner palisade. Then back into the thick of the fray rushed the Arawa.

But the battle was turning more and more in favour of the Whanganuis, and soon the Ngatihotus began to crumble everywhere, leaving the Arawa exposed to a series of attacks so dangerous that time after time it was only his own agility and the length of his reach and the biting qualities of the meré Pahikauré that came between him and death, and enabled him to escape with but trivial flesh wounds.

At last, in his extremity, he fell back upon a ruse which he had planned with some Ngatihotus stationed as a covering force in the forest behind the pa. With a desperate effort he forced his way to the gate and then suddenly leaped and swung himself up on to the fighting-tower above, and sounded a loud blast upon his war-trumpet, and shouted:

“To me, my Arawas! Hasten! Hasten!”

Astounded, completely taken by surprise, the Whanganuis did not raise a hand against him as he stood there upon the tower. All fighting throughout the pa ceased as if by magic. Again he raised his cry:

“To me, my Arawas! Hasten! Hasten!” Then from the near-by forest came the many-voiced answer: “Te Arawa! Te Arawa! Te Arawa!” And at once the Whanganuis, fearing to be caught in a trap, rushed for the gaps in the palisade, scrambled through, crossed the ditch, and began to rally to the call of page 264 their leader as they reached the base of the slope beyond.

Then did Tuwharétoa, knowing how even the bravest of warriors are liable to panic, threaten to “makutu” the Whanganuis should they remain any longer near Rotoaira Pa. He would “makutu” them, he said, in the name of his ancestor Ngatoro-i-rangi, the Great Tohunga of the Arawa Canoe. Following up his threats, he uttered some menacing “karakias,” and such was the fame of the power of Ngatoro even among the Children of Aotea, and such was their inborn dread of the “evil eye” of the “makutu,” that many of the Whanganuis broke away from the ranks at once.

The finishing-blow came with an invocation by the Arawa to his ancestor, an invocation full of meaning to a Maori, and pregnant with power:

“Whispering ghost from the north,
I brought thee here
To this pa.
Now strike!
Whispering ghost from the north,
I brought thee here
To this pa.
Now strike!”

Simultaneously Tuwharétoa thrust out at the mind of the Whanganui leader with all the mental power that he possessed. Caught unawares, the mind of Te Kanawa failed to withstand that thrust, and the will to resist was swept away. Another moment, and the Whanganuis were in full retreat.

And a little later, after following them for quite a distance to the west to make sure that they would not rally again, Tuwharétoa turned southward, then southeastward, on his way to the peaks of Tongariro. Ah! Tongariro, at last!

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………..

It was early the next morning that Tuwharétoa reached the snow-line on the southernmost and highest peak of Tongariro called Ruapahu (Ruapehu), and on reaching it, greatly moved already in mind and spirit, he broke into a chant:

“The Bird-of-Tu now folds his pinions close,
But spreads again, to soar in gentle air,”

to show the Mountain that he came in peace and climbed humbly, reverently.

And to him, from beyond the beetling crags and overhanging cliffs and lifting tiers of rock that marked the snow-line, there seemed to come the Mountain's welcoming call:

“Piki mai! Kaké mai!
Ascend hither! Fly hither!”

So on he went, with the body climbing and the spirit soaring, on past the crags and cliffs and tiers of rock, and on up over frozen snow slopes and a field of glacial ice, until at last and long before midday he gained the top of the northern pinnacle of Ruapahu—and gazed around, spellbound by the sheer magnificence of the view.

For to the north rose Auruhoe (Ngauruhoe) and Tongariro-Tika, both close at hand, and beyond them, for as far as the eye could see, stretched heavy forest country. To the north-east, shimmering in the rays of the morning sun, lay Taupo. And beyond Taupo rose Tauhara, and farther north still the peak of Putauaki close to Hikurangi, and then, farthest north of all and showing up dimly through the haze, a mighty steam-cloud that marked an island-volcano out in the sea.

“From Tongariro to the northern sea,” said page 266 Tuwharétoa aloud, “shall stretch the territories of Te Arawa, Te Arawa.”

He turned towards the east, and observed the jagged peaks of the Kaimanawa Mountains, and saw away to the north of them the familiar Plains of the Kaingaroa, and beyond the Plains the mountainous land of the Uréwera, and he spoke again:

“From Tongariro to the boundary-post at the end of the Kaimanawas, and from Tongariro to the Uréwera, shall stretch the territories of Te Arawa, Te Arawa.”

Then he turned round and gazed out towards a cone-shaped snow-capped mountain that rose lofty and lone far away to the west—and he hesitated. But as no spirit-call came to him from Taranaki Mountain (Egmont) he refrained from claiming that mountain, and confined his attention to the rolling plains that lay at the foot of Tongariro and extended westwards to a belt of forest country. Then:

“From Tongariro to the forest yonder, and to the north and to the south of the plains that lie between, shall stretch the territories of Te Arawa, Te Arawa.”

Finally, he turned towards the south, but there the top of Ruapahu barred the view. Now across that top stretched a great snow-field, and from a basin near the end of that snow-field rose clouds of steam.

Curious about that steam, Tuwharétoa scrambled down and moved across the snow-field without undue discomfort to eyes or skin, for a belt of clouds high overhead continued to screen off the rays of the sun. Soon he reached the basin, and at the bottom of it he saw a crater-lake green-blue in colour and bounded in parts by ice-cliffs.

He worked his way round to the eastern side and page 267 slid down a snow-slope, and reached a point at the lake's edge where the water was quite warm. And there, humbled and overwhelmed in spirit, he offered up his cry:

“Homai te wai ora kia ahau, e Io! Give unto me the Water of Life, O Io!”

He sprinkled himself with water from the lake, and cried again:

“Let me bathe in the brightness of that Water of Life and be washed clean in the spirit, that I may be fit to chant my sacred songs to Thee, the One Supreme, O Io!”

And gradually, as he stood there and offered up the ancient chants, a clearer vision seemed to come to him.

………..

At midday Tuwharétoa stood upon the southern and highest pinnacle of Ruapahu, but he made no claim to the lands which he saw stretching down to the sea far away to the south. Rather did he show interest in the distant Straits of Raukawa (Cook's Strait) and in the mountains of Te Wai-Pounamu (the South Island) looming up beyond. Of themselves, the words came to his lips:

“I sing a song,
I sing a song,
I sing a song of Kupé.
He scoured the Kiwa Sea,
And cleft this land in twain.”

So he chanted, and as he chanted he thought of the storm-battered Canoe Te Matahourua forcing her way through those straits ages before in the days of Kupé the Great Navigator. Greetings to Te Matahourua, and greetings to Kupé!

………..

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That afternoon Tuwharétoa climbed to the top of the active volcano Auruhoe, and then explored the enormous dead craters on the adjoining peak Tongariro-Tika. Below the Ketétahi Geyser on its northern slope he stayed for the night, greatly enjoying the luxury of continuous mud baths in the oily hot stream that flowed from the geyser above—a most refreshing and delightful experience at the close of a strenuous day—moreover, so soothing and cleansing for his smarting wounds.

Then for a while, still luxuriating in a shallow hot pool with his body completely covered by oily mud, he slept soundly. But after midnight sleep left him, and he lay awake gazing up at his friends the stars. And soon the thoughts that had been his at the craterlake on Ruapahu came back to him.

Yes; again did he feel in his inmost being that Tongariro Mountain and Taupo Lake were alive and spirit-guarded; that in them was the “mauri” or life-principle of all Aotea-roa, and that therefore, being places of the spirit, they would need to be won in the spirit—if won at all.

Yes; again did he feel that if he were to grasp at Taupo and Tongariro hastily and greedily, and seize them arrogantly and ruthlessly by force of arms, he would in the end lose them, and his tribe would lose them—perhaps for ever.