page 269

VIII. The Plume of the Arawas

Whence may come the terms of peace so lasting,
That rage and battle-strife will cease to be.

White's Maori History.
(Ancient Chant.)

“E iti noa ana, na te aroha. A little gift indeed—still, it is given with love.”

The words falling so softly from the lips of the Arawa thrilled Rerémoa, and caused her hands to tremble as she accepted that which he offered—his first gift.

Standing there with her by the lake-side, whither he had fled after all the speech-making and the praising that had marked his return to the pa that morning, he watched her. And the longer he watched her the more embarrassed she grew, as she kept turning over and over in her hands a small piece, an insignificant-looking piece, of half-decayed wood.

Presently, however, she noticed that an opening in the centre of the wood had been closed with moss. She pulled out that moss slowly, hesitatingly, and there in the hollow below she saw a solitary flower, delicately marked and of most exquisite shape, a very small flower whose fragile beauty cried aloud as to its place of birth.

“O Manaia!” said Rerémoa as she looked up at him with eyes shining through her tears. “The gift is precious to me, and the manner of thy giving will never be forgotten by me. Yet one question I must ask of thee. Hast climbed the Sacred Mountain of my people?”

page 270

“Yes!” he replied. “The Mountain called to me. Therefore, inevitably, I climbed. And from the top I saw things which had been hidden from my sight before.”

Then she, quite unaware of the thoughts that had stirred him on Tongariro, felt sure that he spoke merely of the things which usually draw a Maori chief to a mountain-top in new country. So she asked quietly: “Boundary-marks, O Arawa?”

“Perhaps—perhaps not!” replied Tuwharétoa. Then, feeling somewhat ashamed of himself for that meagre reply, he proceeded:

“Up on the heights the Mountain did whisper to me, but some of its words I could not quite catch, words about thee, and about thy tribe. Moreover, the Mountain spoke of a sacrifice, but the nature of that sacrifice was not made clear to me. Therefore, I will wait at Rotoaira for a little while, and if the Mountain speak not to me plainly, I will climb its heights again, for I must learn soon what is to be my path.”

“O Manaia!” said Rerémoa sadly. “Would that the Mountain might whisper also to me, for I am its Child of the Spirit even more than art thou! Yes, would that it might speak to me in the spirit, showing me the way, the way!” Then, weeping silently, she left him.

………..

That night, the Mountain whispered to the Puhimaiden of Ngatihotu, whispered tenderly; and the following morning she began the first of a series of hidden but far from feeble attacks upon the heart and the mind and the spirit of the Ariki of Te Arawa in a sustained and final effort to save her tribe.

page 271

For her first attack she called to her aid the children of the pa, who had all returned with the women-folk and the old people some days before, and who now entered with zest into what they thought was an entertainment for the Arawa in return for all his efforts in the recent battle. So, hidden behind the palisade, a large party of them watched Rerémoa as she walked slowly down to the lake-side. And their excitement grew when they heard her voice sweetly chanting a Ngatihotu love-song:

“Lonely I sit by Rotoaira's shore,
Dreaming about my long-lost love. Ah me!
My head doth bow as droops the mamaku
And weeping eyes do weep as flowers of flax
Do weep their honey-showers in summer's wind—
Ah me!”

The Arawa also heard that chant, and it drew him quickly to the maiden's side; but no sooner had he reached her than a whole crowd of children with shrill cries dashed out of the pa, and scrambled over a bridge across the ditch, and raced each other to a bank which sloped steeply down to the water's edge.

Along the top of that bank they placed the severed heads of many ti-palms, and then upon each head sat a laughing child with legs raised up off the ground and with hands holding on to the leaves; then away they all went down the bank at a great pace, shrieking merrily as they collided with each other or found it impossible to avoid toppling over into the water at the bottom.

Other children then took their turn, and so pleased was the Arawa with them all, and especially with the youngest ones who were barely old enough to walk, that he smiled at them and offered them a kindly page 272 greeting, with a heartiness that gave great joy to them—and to Rerémoa.

“All those children were born within sight of Tongariro,” said she as she led the way back to the pa, “so perhaps they are part of Tongariro, even as I.”

The Arawa said nothing, but he wondered greatly at that fresh thought which Rerémoa had tried to sow in his mind. Part of Tongariro?

Entering the pa, he heard one of the elders reminding the people that the star Puanga had appeared in the heavens and that soon it would be followed by the constellation of the Mata-ariki (the Pleiades) as the morning star Te Whetu-o-te-Tau, ushering in the joys or the sorrows of a Ngatihotu New Year. Also, cried the elder, the New Year festival would be made a special one this time as a “whakatau-maha” or thanksgiving to the gods for the recent victory over the Whanganuis.

Now at first the Arawa took little notice of that announcement, for of what possible interest could a Ngatihotu festival be to him? Surely of no interest whatever, thought he.

But soon he was made to realise that some of the children of the pa thought otherwise, for one brighteyed and sturdily-built young boy waited for his chance, and then went up to the Arawa and asked permission to speak to him. Encouraged by a smile, he whispered something, and the Arawa gave a sign of assent and walked off beside the boy, accompanied by some twenty other boys of about the same age. Yet when others of the people of the pa sought to follow, the Arawa sternly ordered them back.

Led by the boy, the little party passed through the gate and then went down into the great ditch and page 273 along to a place that was not overlooked from the palisade above. And there those boys experienced first abject fear and then an ecstasy of excitement as they watched and sought to imitate the vigorous movements of an Arawa war-dance.

Ha! In a little while their spirited leader was able to put them through the opening movements of the dance himself, and with a vigour and an accuracy that surprised the Arawa.

“A-a-af”! he would cry to the “warriors” who were kneeling in the ditch waiting for his command. “Whiti! Whiti—e!” And up they would spring. A shrill yell, “A-a! He ringa pakia!” from their leader, and thereupon all the “warriors” would commence to strike open hands upon bare thighs. Another yell, “A-a-a! He waewae takahia!” and the legs would be called into action with a rhythmical stamping as the right feet of the dancers struck the ground as one. Then would follow the rolling of eyes, the protruding of tongues, the quivering of fingers, the violent gestures, and the leaping, and the yelling.

But at the end, when the Arawa climbed out of the ditch and found Rerémoa waiting for him, face flushed and eyes sparkling with pleasure, he realised that he had been attacked with a very subtle weapon.

Throughout the whole of the afternoon Rerémoa made no appearance upon the marae, for she was busily engaged with her attendants in the big Wharétapéré, preparing the maidens of the pa for the special part they were to play in the festival to come. But what went on inside that building aroused no interest in the Arawa, sitting with Nukutea upon the high tower, both gazing at Tongariro towering up beyond the lake.

page 274

The sight seemed to bring to the old chief memories of nobler days. He felt compelled to speak:

“Listen, O Arawa! Tongariro holds the bones of mine ancestors. Great chiefs! Great tohungas! Yes; theirs was the true tohunga-craft so spoken of by trembling lips of men, for they breathed the ancient songs and chanted them to earth and sky, and raised aloft the sacred power, from Io. Alas! Alas! Who now of our tohunga-priests can chant the incantations to an angry sky or coming evil turn aside? Not one! Not one!

“Listen again! In my youth the fruitful winds of years of plenty blew; but then came stalking through the land the red-eyed God of War, and my people withered under the blast, withered mentally and spiritually.

“Alas! Now in mine old age comes the final peril, from Tuhoe, Arawa, and Whanganui. Soon shall I weep and mourn the death of all my tribe. Yes; soon will the ancient tribe of Ngatihotu be as extinct as the tribe of the moa-bird; and in after years the people who will occupy this land will find our bones in the vast caves under Tongariro, and will wonder what manner of people were we. Unhappy fate!

“No,” he concluded in mournful tones, as he continued to gaze at Tongariro; “for me the shining sun has naught to gladden now, and yonder peaks, oft gazed upon in days of joy, but prompt the sigh. Indeed, from them now comes a biting wind with power to drive me down to deeper depths of weariness and woe. Ah me!”

Knowing quite well who was the “biting wind” that the old chief spoke of, Tuwharétoa sought to bring about more cheerful thoughts.

page 275

“Hast thou no garment warm to wrap thee in against the chilling gale?” he asked gently.

The face of Nukutea brightened at once, and there was a different tone in his voice as he replied:

“Yes, I have Rerémoa, in whom alone now lives the real, the true, the ancient spirit of my tribe. Ah! How nobly she has filled the place of those my tall red-painted warrior-sons who died by Arawa hand.

“Yet not from me does she get her spirit, O Arawa,” he continued. “No! Her heart and mind do glow with that which came to her from her ancestors of the very distant past.” Then, seeing the look that came into the Arawa's eyes, he added “But as to those ancestors, taihoa, taihoa! To-morrow night perhaps, or the following night! This evening I would devote to a sharing with thee of sacred knowledge—about Io, Io the Withholder. It is the wish of Rerémoa that we meet. Therefore, enough for me!”

“Enough for me also!” said Tuwharétoa; but into his mind, under the hidden attack, there had crept another new thought. Io, the Withholder?

………..

That evening, having first purified themselves with the recital of karakias, the High Chief of Ngatihotu and the Ariki of Te Arawa gave to each other without reservation such knowledge as they possessed, or thought they possessed, about the relationship of man to the Supreme Being.

And while on some points they entirely disagreed, on others they were relieved to find themselves in perfect accord.

Thus they were both agreed that it was Tané the Great-Male-of-Heaven who fashioned Hiné-ahu-oné the page 276 Earth-formed-Maid out of soppy mud and breathed into the lifeless form the breath of life. And they were also agreed that the organs of the body, and the blood, and the manawa ora, or breath of life, and the hiné ngaro, or spirit, and the wairua, or soul, which were implanted in that form were all procured by Tané from Io the One Supreme. Also, they were agreed that there was a distinction, a very fine distinction, between the hiné ngaro and the wairua, but that each was deathless.

And lastly, they were agreed that the Supreme Being was a Being superlatively holy in character and limitless in power, and known by many names. Thus “Io the Wise” was also

Io Nui, Great Io;
Io Takétaké, Io the Unchanging;
Io Matua, Io the Parent;
Io Matua-te-Koré, Io the Parentless;
Io Mata-Ngaro, Io-of-the-Hidden-Face;
Io Mata-Aho, Io-that-cannot-be-gazed-at;
Io te Wai-Ora, Io the Source-of-all-Life;
Io Wananga, Io the Source-of-Sacred-Knowledge;
Io Mata-Kana, Io the Vigilant;
Io Tikitiki-o-Rangi, Io the Supreme-One-in-the-Sky; and
Io te Koré-te-Whiwhia, Io the Withholder.

Now of all those names it was the last name that held the Arawa absorbed in thought as he rose up to depart that night. Io a Withholder as well as a Giver? The very name seemed to open up new lines of thought.

………..

On the following morning a great meeting of the page 277 Ngatihotu people took place on the marae, and at that meeting the question of the marriage of the Puhi maiden Rerémoa to the Arawa Manaia was discussed and re-discussed with the keenest zest, although everyone knew that the tribal consent to their union would not be withheld.

And man and maiden had to sit there and listen, and suffer silently. How the Arawa longed for all the talk to cease! Yet at the last he was given reward, for a bored-looking old elder stood up and with his quaintly-worded speech brought the meeting to a merry close.

In apparently serious tones he said that he felt compelled to object to the marriage on grounds which so far had escaped the notice of the unthinking crowd. Then, having made it clear by the accompanying gesture that he included nearly all his hearers within that term, he went on to point out that both Rerémoa and the Arawa were fair-haired and light-coloured of skin, and that, worse still, they each had such a queerlooking nose. Indeed, neither of them had at all the correct shape of nose for a Maori. Therefore, said the elder, it was most undesirable that by their marriage they should be encouraged to foist an even worse type of nose upon the race. On behalf of the very old people of the pa he protested against the marriage.

Then he sat down and listened with real enjoyment to the coughs of admiration which rose from all over the marae, and he listened with even greater delight to the “Kia ora hoe, kia ora!” which the smiling Arawa threw across to him in friendly greeting. But when he looked at Rerémoa he quailed before the glance which she gave him. Yet to his old eyes she looked wondrously beautiful at that moment; skin page 278 suffused with a most delicate tint of colour. So he continued to gaze at her—until she smiled at him.

………..

That evening, seated with Rerémoa and her father in the high chief's dwelling, the Arawa gained much knowledge about the origin of the Ngatihotu people and of the whole Maori race, knowledge which made a lasting impression upon his mind. Ha! So the Ngatihotu people were of ancient lineage and of the same ancestry as Te Arawa, after all!

“Yes!” said Nukutea in reply to a question. “He kakano i ruiruia mai i Hawaiki. We are seed scattered hither from Hawaiki. Which Hawaiki? The real Hawaiki, the Hawaiki-of-Great-Distance, the Hawaiki about which our people have this saying: ‘Ko Hawaiki te whenua e tupu noa mai te kumara. Hawaiki is the land where the kumara grows spontaneously.’ That is the Hawaiki from which we came, O Arawa! How long ago? Ages and ages ago! Now listen, as I go back along the ocean track by which we came!

“Nearest of all to Hawaiki-tautau, which is our name for this land which you call Aotea-roa, lies a group of islands of which one is named Tonga-tapu and another Wawau. Beyond that group lies another group called Hamoa. Now it was from Homoa that our Canoe Te Hotuhotu sailed on its voyage to Hawaikitautau, stopping only at Tonga-tapu and Wawau on the way. How long ago? Long, long before either Te Arawa or Aotea reached this land! Sufficient for that!

“Beyond Hamoa the track to Hawaiki turns sharply north-westward and passes various islands of the Sea of Kiwa, until it reaches a great branching-off page 279 place of the race, a place from which our own migration and several others turned south-eastward and reached Hamoa (Samoa) and Tawhiti-nui-Ruamatua (Tahiti) and Rarotonga and other places whose names are known to me, a place also from which at least one other migration turned north-eastward and reached a group of islands known to us afterwards as Waihi (Hawaii).”

He paused for a moment to satisfy himself that the Arawa knew about the remainder of the track for as far back as Great-Hawaiki (Borneo) and Little-Hawaiki (Java), and then he suddenly changed the direction of his thoughts and asked his hearers to accompany him in mind and spirit to the very birthland of the race, and from there to move forward and eastward with him along the first portion of the ancient track. Then slowly, with the Arawa eagerly listening to and carefully memorising the words as they fell the narrative proceeded:

“In very remote times, the ancestors of the Maori were a fair-skinned and dark-haired people who dwelt in a land called Uru, or Uru-nui, Great Uru. But in the days of a famous ancestor named Ngana-te-Ariki, from whom Rerémoa here can show unbroken descent, they were driven out of Uru by another fair-skinned dark-haired people who came from I know not where.

“Driven from the Land of Uru, Ngana-te-Ariki and his people migrated south-eastward to a land called Irihia (India), a land known also as Atia-te-Waringa-nui, but a land which our people now refer to as the Homeland, Hawaiki-pa-mamao, Hawaiki of-Great-Distance, Hawaiki-Far-Away.

“In Irihia, Ngana-te-Ariki became supreme chief and ariki of the extensive Kura-nui district, while the page 280 chiefs of other migrations from the Land of Uru seized control of the districts called Hawa and Tawhiti. From Hawa comes the great name ‘Hawa-iki.’

“As to the descriptions of Irihia in our traditions, alas! they are very meager. Merely do they tell us that Irihia was not an island but was a mainland, a ‘tua-whenua,’ a great outspread land with high mountains on the inland side and with vast plains on the side towards the sea. Across those plains ran the Sacred River Tohinga—Tohunga, perhaps.

“Now then! Ngana-te-Ariki took to wife Tangi-te-Ruru and had issue Atia-nui-Ariki, who took to wife Ania-Ariki and had issue Hui-te-Rangiora. Ha! I saw thee start, O Arawa. Taihoa! Taihoa!

“For many generations our people lived in that hot country of Irihia, and were called the ‘Ma-uri’ People by the natives of that country on account of their fairness of skin. Gradually, however, they grew less and less fair of skin, partly perhaps through generations of life under a scorching sun, but more certainly through the influence of a new blood-stream which began to find its way into the race. Yet ever did our people retain the characteristics which distinguished them as Children of the Land of Uru, and ever did they retain their ascendancy over the tribes among whom they dwelt.

“But tradition states again and again that they had many enemies in other parts of Irihia, and that in course of time they began to feel the pressure of fierce wars, continual wars.

“Finally, in the days of another Hui-te-Rangiora, a great canoe was built called ‘Te Tuahiwi-o-Atia, The Mountainous-Backbone-of-Atia,’ and in that canoe the second Hui-te-Rangiora, accompanied by his daughter Puhi-Ariki and by a number of their page 281 people, sailed from Irihia eastward, and after a voyage of ten days and one day reached the land known to us in tradition as Hawaiki-roa, the Long-Hawaiki (Sumatra). From there they moved on eastward to Little-Hawaiki, where they settled for a time and were joined by others of their kin from Irihia.

“And now, O Arawa, I come to the wonder-part of my tale, for it was on Little-Hawaiki that the beautiful Puhi-Ariki was given in marriage to a stranger chief who came from the north. Tradition speaks of that man as having been a ‘godlike man of gigantic stature,’ and of his canoe as having been a ‘huge canoe of most extraordinary shape.’

“But, taihoa, taihoa! To-morrow night I will speak the things I know about him. Sufficient for the present that from that one man, according to our traditions, came the ‘urukéhu’ strain into the Maori race! Ha! I saw thee start again, O Arawa.”

“His name? His name?” asked Tuwharétoa as calmly as he might.

But with true Maori reluctance to disclose important knowledge too soon, the old chief merely said “Taihoa! Taihoa!“—and with that answer Tuwharétoa had to be content, for that night.

………..

For the greater part of the next day the Arawa, while apparently taking pleasure in his frequent if brief meetings with Rerémoa, preserved in her presence a strange silence, a silence particularly trying for her, in view of her need for some indication that his thoughts were changing towards her tribe.

Late in the afternoon, however, when she came out of the Wharé-tapéré, she saw the Arawa close by, and she whispered to her attendants, and then she went page 282 over to the Arawa and stood beside him, while long lines of maidens issued forth from the building.

Now the older maidens for some reason remained in the background, but the younger girls walked straight on, and as their leader passed in front of the Arawa and Rerémoa the whole line broke into the merriest of chants, and every girl as she passed looked up at the Arawa with smiling eyes. And the Arawa felt a soft little hand creep into his hand. Then:

“O Manaia, be merciful, be merciful, for in thee alone lies the power to keep those children in the world of Light!”

Tuwharétoa turned quickly and looked down at her, wondering how much she knew, surprised indeed at her emphasis upon that word “alone.” She waited for him to speak, quite unaware that her open mind was tempting him. And still he gazed at her, saying nothing. Finally, exasperated beyond endurance by his continued silence, she cried at him:

“Oh, would that thy thoughts might flower into speech, thou man, thou Arawa!”

And she would have left him and fled, but she could not, for he held fast to her hand, and he made her listen:

“As to my thoughts,” said he, “taihoa!, taihoa! But as to thy meetings in the Wharé-tapéré, what of them? Art thou reciting incantations that will have soft power over the hard heart of an Arawa? Speak, my Rerémoa, speak!” And he smiled down upon the maiden in a manner that gave her hope.

“Taihoa! Taihoa!” said she.

………..

When evening came, the Arawa joined Rerémoa and Nukutea in the latter's dwelling, and presently the old chief proceeded with his tale:

page 283

“Listen, O Arawa! At this late stage in our history we know of three races of men, namely, the Black People of the Western Isles of the Sea of Kiwa, the Brown People of the Tangata Maori, and the White People referred to in our ancient traditions.

“Now the common belief among our people is that the Maoris are descended from Tangaroa-te-Ihu-Pu, Tangaroa-of-the Exact-or-Perfect-Nose, while the White People are descended from Tangaroa-te-Ihu-Hau-Papa, Tangaroa-of-the-Cold-Nose.” He paused for a moment, and smiled as he saw the Arawa look round at Rerémoa. Then he proceeded:

“As for the Black People, it is said that their ancestor had no nose at all, but nostrils only, set between side-glancing eyes in a flat face. Ai-i!” He paused again, as if to rid his mind of an unpleasant thought. Then:

“Taihoa! There are two other races that live near the Sea of Kiwa. To the east our navigators found a race of Red Men, while to the west and north they found a race known as the People-with-Uplifted-Eyes. However, sufficient for them!

“Now the Black People that I spoke of are exceedingly black in colour, but the White People are not exceedingly white, certainly not white of the whiteness of the snows on Tongariro. Rather are the White People Pakéhakéha, about the colour of the driftwood on Taupo's shores.

“Thus do I come to the point where I left off last night, for the stranger chief who took to wife the daughter of Hui-te-Rangiora on Little-Hawaiki was of the White race. According to tradition he was a man of very fair skin, and had blue eyes, and had fair hair of a distinctly reddish tinge. But the most extraordinary thing about that man was that from page 284 just above his ears there grew two small wings, one on either side of the head. Incredible—perhaps!

“Tradition records also that the stranger chief was the eldest son of the ruler of some cold country far away in the north, and that he was a great voyager, and an expert at navigating a vessel upon the ocean. Indeed, it would seem that he taught our people much that was of value to them later in their migrations across the sea. Ah! There is a question hovering upon thy lips, O Arawa. His name? His name was ‘Erika.’”

Acute disappointment filled the mind of Tuwharétoa, for the name “Erika” was a new name to him, and a strange name. Now the names” Hui-te-Rangiora” and “Puhi-Ariki” had been quite well known to him, for they were on his own line of ancestors in the whakapapa or pedigree handed down from Ngatoro-i-rangi. But, according to that whakapapa, Puhi-Ariki had married the Sea God Tangaroa. “Erika”? That was surely not a Maori name?

“His name was ‘Erika,’” repeated Nukutea, “but, because he pronounced his name as if its ending had been bitten off, Puhi-Ariki did not like that name. Therefore, upon her marriage to Erika, she gave him a new name, the name ’Tangaroa. Ah! That name is known to thee, O Arawa? Taihoa!

“In due time sons were born to Puhi-Ariki and Tangaroa, first one son and then another, and they also had blue eyes and had fair hair somewhat reddish in tinge, but their skin was shaded with brown. According to our traditions those two sons of Puhi-Ariki were the first ‘urukéhus’ born to the Maori race, and in later times their descendants preserved their characteristics and were referred to often as ‘the fair-haired offspring of the Sea God Tangaroa.’

“Now, after the birth of his second son, Tangaroa page 285 departed from Little-Hawaiki in his queer-shaped vessel, voyaging to the eastward in an effort to find a new track to his home country in the north. But though he promised to return, he came not back.

“Years passed, and then the grief-stricken Puhi-Ariki with her two sons joined Hui-te-Rangiora in one of the migrations proceeding to the east, in the hope that in some way or other she might reach the unknown country whither her loved one had gone.”

He paused, and made a sign to Reréemoa. She rose up and went to the far corner of the dwelling. Soon she came back, and in her hands was something the sight of which caused the Arawa to leap to his feet in sheer astonishment. Then he sat down again, but he was trembling all over, for that which Rerémoa held was a casket, a carved casket, black with age.

Courteously appearing not to notice his agitation, Nukutea proceeded:

“That casket, O Arawa, bears the name ‘Puhi-Ariki,’ and to me and to Rerémoa it is a thing of the spirit, a treasure of the ages, a treasure of Little-Hawaiki, a treasure of Hawaiki-Far-Away. Now hearken!

“Before the departure from Little-Hawaiki, the most sacred portion of the Tuahiwi-o-Atia Canoe was cut out and fashioned into two caskets upon which Huite-Rangiora executed carvings with his own hand. Then did he bestow one casket upon one son of Puhi-Ariki, and the other casket upon the other son, bidding them to ever keep in fond remembrance the beloved Homeland from which the wood of those caskets had come.

“Now from generation to generation comes this casket down to me, for I am in the direct line of descent from the younger of those two sons of Puhi-Ariki. page 286 But as to what thing was placed within this casket by Hui-te-Rangiora, or as to what became of the other casket that I have mentioned, our traditions are silent. Sufficient for me that this casket, though empty, is my sure claim to honour and respect from every tribe of our race! Therefore, O Arawa, enough!”

“Truly thou art the resting-place of knowledge,” said Tuwharétoa, after a period of silence. “Therefore do I give thee greetings, with honour and respect. Nevertheless, it seems that I am thy senior, for I come from the elder son of Puhi-Ariki and Tangaroa, and in the direct line also. Moreover, my casket was named ‘Tangaroa,’ and in it was gravel from the seashore of Hawaiki-Far-Away, and that gravel had already been emptied into the Sea of Taupo. Therefore, enough also!”

“My senior? Thy casket?” gasped Nukutea. “Who art thou, O Arawa? Who art thou? Speak!”

Then, whilst Tuwharétoa was wondering how best he might break the news to Rerémoa gently, the maiden herself answered for him:

“Alas, the truth must now be told to thee, O my father. Know that among his own people Manaia the Arawa is of the highest branch of noblest tree.”

But still her father did not seem to understand. Again he asked:

“Who art thou, O Arawa? Who art thou?” And again it was Rerémoa who gave him answer, and a plain answer this time:

“Aué! Aué! He is the Plume, the Plume, the very Plume of the Arawas—the Ariki Tuwharétoa.”

For quite a space of time she did not dare look up. She knew that the eyes of the Arawa were upon her. She knew also that the eyes of her father were upon page 287 the Arawa. Presently her father spoke, spoke slowly, but not to her:

“So thou, thou art the Man-devouring-Bird, the Hawk of Taupo Lake! Thou! Thou!”

The Arawa took no notice of him. His eyes were still upon the maiden. He waited until she looked up, and then he asked:

“For how long hast thou known, O Rerémoa?”

“For a long time,” she answered.

“When didst thou find out the truth, my Rerémoa?” he persisted.

“On that first night of horror at the rock shelter of the Kaingaroa,” she replied.

Then did Tuwharétoa draw his cape up over his brow, while to himself he whispered:

“Surely the spirit of Rerémoa must have been made in the heavens above the mountain tops—of Tongariro!”

………..

That night, the Ariki Tuwharétoa of Te Arawa communed again with the Sacred Mountain, and this time his path was made clear, at least as to part.

That night also, after much difficulty, he sent forth a mind-message to his sister Marama, bidding her to come with the waka-taua to the Waterfall-of-the-Moa, bidding her to bring with her the carved casket, and bidding her to have on board the canoe a long and well-adzed totara post which he would put to some special use.

Now the final words of that message to Marama caused real consternation on the island in the Waikato that night, for they hinted at a sacrifice. Aué! A sacrifice of what, and by whom?