Other Omens of Ill Luck

A vast number of unlucky signs, acts, etc., come under the heading of puhore, a word that means non-success, unsuccessful, unlucky, as in fishing and fowling, any omen of ill-luck is termed as puhore. Thus it is a puhore for a fisherman to yawn, and among fowlers and others certain names and words must not be used, or no game will be taken, indeed it is most unlucky to speak of what one is going to, or may, catch. A friend of the writer once went page 612out hunting wild pigs with natives, and took some salt with him, knowing that they would probably cook a meal while away. His companions strongly objected to the salt being taken, saying: "Kaore ano kia mate max ke poaka kua kainga e koe." (Ere a pig has been killed you have eaten it.) But greater yet was the astonishment and disgust of the Maori when they saw British troops carrying stretchers for their wounded and dead when going into action. Such an act was utterly incomprehensible to the Maori mind, a deliberate casting away of all chance of success, it was practically asking to be defeated, a demand for wounded and slain men.

A rat trapper having set his traps for the first time during the season would not speak to anyone until the first rat had been caught. If a woodsman stumbled with his left foot he would take no game, and it was also very unlucky for a trapper to run into a spider web. Certain dreams foretell lack of success, as also do the actions of dogs. Those searching for the perei, a plant having an edible root, were careful not to mention its name, or no plants would be found, at such a time it was termed maikaika. When a fowler was going to examine his line of snares he could not make use of the words titiro (to look at, examine) and wetewete (wewete = to untie, release) but would employ the terms matai and wherawhera, having similar meanings; were he to pronounce either of the banned words then he would take no birds, for the act would be a puhore. It is a peculiar coincidence that a Malay pigeon snarer will not mention his implements by their proper names when he is at his task of snaring. At such a time he employs false and grandiose names for them in his charms.

It is a highly noteworthy fact that a people such as the Maori, possessing no form of civil law, always seem to evolve in the place thereof innumerable restrictions, bans, and other repressive and disciplinary measures, many of which to us appear to represent the last word in absurdity. Such illustrations of this aspect as are given here teemed in the everyday life of the Maori, and the happy, care-free, irresponsible savage has not been found.

There were in a number of cases certain set-offs, certain acts by means of which ill luck might be warded off, dangers avoided, and so on. Many of these represented a form of insurance, and called for the offices of the village tohunga or shaman. A peculiar institution known as tuapa called for the performance of a simple ceremony which warded off the shafts of misfortune represented by puhore, that is to say it was an insurance against non-success page 613among fowlers and fishermen. A fowler, for example, would proceed to the place where the simple rite was performed, usually marked by a stake, post or stone. He procured a branchlet, touched his bird-raking implements with it, then cast it down at the base of the post as he repeated a simple formula to procure freedom from ill luck.

Ill luck was sometimes foreshadowed in a very simple manner, as we have already seen. Another illustration of this is explained in connection with the hapuku fishing bank or shoal in Cook Strait known as the Tuahiwi. Should a party of fishermen, on arriving at the fishing ground, hear the cry of the bird called komako huariki, then it was known that no fish would be taken. Fowlers always concealed their catch of birds when in the forest, and should they give away any of the birds taken to friends, one of the birds so presented would be reclaimed to serve as a tautawhi, that is to prevent the living birds leaving the district. Great care had to be taken during the fowling season that a forest did not become tamaoatia, that is that no cooked food was taken into it, for in such case no self-respecting bird could possibly remain in the district. Fowlers might cook a meal and eat it in the forest, but no portion of the food cooked but not eaten could be taken away to be consumed later on.

The curious beliefs that wild creatures may come to know that danger threatens them is also heard of in connection with the introduced pig. When setting forth in search of wild pigs it is necessary to be extremely careful, or the pigs may become pawera, apprehensive, nervous, and make off to remote parts. In some matters success could not be attained until a certain thing was seen or secured, as, for instance, when seeking the shellfish known as kakara; when a colony of these was found it was necessary to take the ariki or leader first, otherwise one would fail to secure any.

Connected with the condition of pawera noted above is a peculiar sensation mentioned in a number of old historical traditions. A man has a basket of food placed before him and on the vegetable food is placed a kinaki of human flesh. Ere he can taste that flesh he comes to know by some strange means that it is the flesh of a blood relative of his, and so he refrains from eating it, and proceeds to take steps toward avenging the insult received.

Some queer superstitions are connected with all forms of food supplies. When a person found the pukurau fringes in immature form he would take his stand so that his shadow would fall upon page 614it; this would cause it to develop quickly, when it would be gathered and cooked. When the nest of the seabird called pohowera was found among the sweet potato crop the eggs in it were counted, inasmuch as it was known that, when the crop was lifted, there would be twenty baskets of potatoes for each egg found in the nest.

There were also strange beliefs concerning the harmful influence of the female sex. Thus the Maori held that if a menstruating woman walks a sea beach that the shellfish of that area will at once forsake the place and migrate to a distant part of the coast. If such a woman essays to cook kernels of the tawa berry, then those kernels will never be softened by such cooking, but remain hard and obdurate. If she visits an ahititi, whereat mutton birds are taken, then the act is a puhore and no birds will be taken. The birds will hover in the vicinity and raise a clamour with their shrill cries, and so the fowlers will know the cause of their non-success. It was also known that, if that woman walked in the vicinity of gourd plants then such plants would die, or at least the fruit thereof would not mature. Neither was such a woman allowed to feed a tamed tui bird, or to prepare food for it, for that would prevent it learning to speak. A tui is well aware when a woman is in that condition. Nor may women so affected take part in preparing or cooking food for members of a war or fishing party, or those engaged in house-building, canoe-making, cultivation, etc. (On the eastern coast of the North Island women were not allowed to take part in planting the sweet potato, and this restriction extended to the lifting and storage of the crop. In some places old women were allowed to enter the storage pits, but not young or middle-aged women.) In all these cases the underlying belief was that woman was tapu when in that condition and so possessed of an extremely harmful influence, her mere presence was sufficient to bring trouble or disaster. These superstitions are, or were, world-wide! Pliny wrote that seeds touched by such women became sterile, and it was also believed that vines touched by them were killed. In Cappadocia, however, if the woman walked through crops the effect was to preserve them from pests, here the pests seem to have suffered instead of the crops.

Another strange Maori usage may here be referred to, and that is that, at certain times, man and wife kept apart from each other. Such a condition was brought about by a number of causes; for instance men under the tapu of a war god could not go direct to their homes on returning from a raid, a ceremonial lifting of the page 615tapu alone would enable them to do so, and a man might come under a segregating tapu from any one of many causes. At the opening of the rat-trapping season, when the first set of traps had been set, the trappers were compelled to be circumspect in their behaviour and to practise continence for twenty-four hours, that is until, on the morrow, the traps had been examined, reset, and the game brought home. We have already seen that, at least in some districts, a trapper was also compelled to refrain from speaking for that period. South Island natives have explained to me that, when the ti (Cordyline australis) was being cooked, a matter of not less than twenty-four hours, it was highly necessary that the sexes should keep apart, otherwise the cooking would be a melancholy failure. Maori folk of Wairarapa and elsewhere have told me a similar story anent the cooking of the upper part of the trunk of the tree fern (Cyathea medullaris).

There is another extraordinary thing that here calls for some notice, and that is the ceremonial act of copulation that occasionally occurred in former times. As explained by our Maori folk this was sometimes performed as a divinatory rite during the progress of a fight, and the performance of the act hinged upon an old belief that is voiced in the following saying: "Ka tu te ure, he toa, ka hinga, he mate." That is to say if the act can be consummated at such an anxious time then success is assured. The Maori maintains, that, during a fierce fight, the member of a tino toa, a really courageous man, is remarkably prominent, and that of a timid, nervous man the very reverse. The late Canon Stack obtained from South Island natives an account of a fight in which a chief named Tarewai was compelled to make a desperate sortie against serious odds. Ere delivering the charge he performed the before-mentioned act in view of his people, and both act and sortie were successful. The late Tuta Nihoniho of Ngati-Porou gave me an account of a similar performance for the same object that had occurred among his own people. At pp. 88 and 92 of vol. 20 of the Journal of the Polynesian Society appears a brief account of another such occurrence ("Ngati Whatua Traditions" by H. P. Raukatouri, p. 88; translated on p. 92).

In his work entitled Psyche's Task Dr Frazer gives some account of the performance of such an act by natives in Madagascar and South Africa, where the desideratum was the acquirement of courage and success in striving against human enemies and wild beasts (J. G. Frazer, Psyche's Task, pp. 57-60). In his account of his first voyage Capt. Cook describes a public exhibition of a similar nature given by Tahitians during his page 616sojourn at their isle in 1769. This performance took place just after Divine service had been performed by the European voyagers, and the natives gave no sign to show that it was viewed as being anything extraordinary (Hawkesworth, J. An Account of Voyages… vol. 2, p. 127 et seq.). In the Journal of the Anthropological Institute, vol. 50, p. 258 (A. C. Haddon, "Migrations of Cultures in British New Guinea") is a description of somewhat indiscriminate ceremonial copulation as practised in British New Guinea.

Many superstitions pertained to birth, such as signs, omens and divinatory performances. For instance when the umbilical cord was severed it was sometimes placed in a dry seed pod of the rewarewa or honeysuckle tree which was placed in a stream or pond; if it capsized the fact was accepted as an evil omen for the child, if not then a fair future lay before the infant. When the oho rangi divinatory rite was performed over an infant, and thunder resounded in the east or north, then the welfare of the infant was assured, but if in the south or west then the result was a luckless child. There were lucky and unlucky nights or phases of the moon in connection with birth; it was a source of satisfaction if a child was born on a lucky night of the moon, a lucky day as we would put it. My Maori friends tell me that a pregnant woman would not have her hair cut lest the infant be rehe or stunted. If such a woman, when eating a bird, is seen to eat the wings and legs only it is known that the child she bears is a male; if she consumes the body of the bird then the infant is a female; a red or flushed face also betokens a female child. Should she feel the infant moving, then a storm is at hand, if it does so while she is holding another child in her arms, then her own unborn child is of the opposite sex to that of the child she is nursing. Similar signs were in the discolouration of the breasts of a woman. If a whe (stick-insect) is seen on a woman it is then known that she has conceived. Women who desired to have a child would proceed to piki whenua, they would be on hand when an infant had been born and would stand over the afterbirth for a while; an infant born through this influence would be of the same sex as the child whose whenua had been so utilised. In the Tuhoe district a simple ceremony performed over a woman at the magic tree known as the Iho o Kataka had the same effect as the above, while in the Kawhia district barren women resorted to the equally marvellous stone called Uenuku-tuwhatu. At a marriage feast the sisters of the bride would not, in some cases, partake of the food cooked for the couple and their near relatives lest they themselves become page 617sterile. An immature birth is, as we have seen, a very dangerous thing, and may cause much annoyance, affliction and death; a child born feet first, will assuredly turn out to be bold, unruly, troublesome.

Some curious beliefs exist in some districts as to the birth of male or female children during the prevalence of certain winds only. Should the severing of the umbilical cord be felt by the mother then it betokens ill luck for her. An accidental severing of the cord is a rauru motu, and the child will be stunted and sickly. If the cord has a knotted appearance the next child born will be a boy; occasionally the severed portion was wrapped up and carried about by the mother for some time. Should she chance to lose it then the child would die.

When the timuaki or crown of an infant's head is situated well back then the next child born to the mother will be a male, if lower down or more forward a female child will follow. As to congenital stigmata the maori holds the belief that, when a woman is pregnant, any remarkable sight or occurrence may affect in some may the unborn infant. A woman of Ruatahuna had, among her black hair, one lock of a reddish colour, the origin of which, she informed me, lay in the fact that, when her mother was carrying her, someone brought her from its far away habitat a bunch of reddish coloured grass called maurea, formerly prized by the Maori, and in which she was much interested.

When the tohi rite was performed over a male child he was, in some cases, made to swallow a fragment of stone, and this was supposed to harden his heart and resolution in later days when he lifted the war trail. In the case of twins the first born is looked upon as somewhat of an interloper, according to the Tuhoe folk. If the lower teeth of an infant appear first "then the next child born to that woman will be a female. It was deemed unlucky to nurse or dandle an infant much, and the Maori has a belief, or at least some of them have, that an unborn infant receives nourishment through the raukai or fontanelles, birth takes place when these rua or apertures close up.

Among weaving experts it was reckoned most unfortunate if the process of dyeing fibres was witnessed by other persons, for it meant that the experts would lose their knowledge of the art, that is that bystanders would acquire the art cheaply, the pride of the craftsman was aroused. When engaged in weaving a garment it was most unlucky to leave a row of the tying process incomplete when ceasing work for the day, or to weave a superior page 618garment out in the open, or to work after sunset, or in the presence of strangers. To cast any tow refuse into the fire would result in a weaver losing all knowledge of the art. Should one of the rods or pegs supporting the fabric being woven chance to fall then visitors would arrive ere long; if a cross thread became knotted visitors would arrive the following day.

In connection with sickness and disease the Maori believed in a great number of omens, tohu or signs. As in old-time Babylonia the common belief was that sickness and disease were caused by the activities of malignant demons, atua, and it was this belief that prevented anything like medical research, in both religions. The Polynesians had no Arab neighbours to break out a trail in that direction, and so, on the advent of Europeans to these shores, the Maori folk became aware of a procedure that was quite new to them, viz, the treatment of ailments by means of internal medicines. Prior to that time they had pinned their faith to the absurd belief in demoniacal possession to which our forefathers clung so desperately, and which was encouraged by Christian priesthoods down to a late period. Mackenzie's remarks in his Myths of Babylonia and Assyria may be allowed to stand for Maoriland. He tells us how the Babylonians believed in the existence of innumerable spirits and demons: "The spirits of disease were ere lying in wait to clutch him with cruel, invisible hands"—also how demons were believed to enter and consume the body, and were supposed to be expelled by magic ceremonial and charms, all of which was essentially Maori.

If the Maori was ignorant of the science of medicine in pre-European days here, he certainly accepted such treatment with alacrity, and eagerly indulged in the white man's medicines, whether suitable for his malady or not, and indeed he would readily quaff a dose of medicine when untroubled by any complaint. Ere long he began to compound his own medicines, wai rakau, weird decoctions of divers leaves, roots and barks that might well cause a man to bound from his very coffin, or wish himself in it. These marvellous remedies were highly recommended for every ill, malady and calamity under the shining sun, and in some cases are said to have been most efficacious as preventatives. As illustrating the culminating point of these high ideals I may mention one wai rakau highly spoken of by experts of the troubled "sixties" when the song of the musket was heard in the land. When the Tuhoe contingent marched from Ruatahuna to assist in rolling back the Pakeha forces from Waikato-taniwha-rau, its ranks contained one page 619Penetiti, an expert and prophet of parts, whose task was to peer into the future and act as general adviser to the sons of Tu the war god. The prophecy of Pene concerning the campaign is still preserved in song form by his tribe, but perhaps his most renowned achievement was a concoction, a veritable elixir of life, which he compounded from divers herbs, barks, etc., and which he maintained would preserve the bodies of his comrades from all harm when British bullets were flying. All his followers had to do was to have faith and swig a portion of Pene's potion prior to going into action. Ere long came the opportunity to test the elixir. British troops surrounded the brown-skinned patriots at Orakau and Tu the red-eyed smote the realm of Waikato. Ere the two forces came to grips Pene was to the fore with his preventive balsam, doses of which were administered to the dour bush fighters. But alas for human hopes and the reputation of Penetiti the prophet of Ruatahuna-paku-kore, for the credulous bushmen were smitten hip and thigh, and, as a survivor remarked to me: "Tuhoe flowed like water down to the spirit world." Shattered by bullet and bayonet, grenade and shell, the survivors returned sadly to their forest-clad ranges under the rising sun, and the fame of Penetiti waned until he was "removed" by Te Kooti.

The simple act of sneezing seems to be viewed in two lights by the Maori. In the first place a sneeze was the first sign of life shown by Hine-ahu-one, the first woman, when created and vivified by Tane, and so we have the saying "Tihi mauri oral" among us to this day, as already explained. But sneezing seems to be also viewed as ominous of some coming trouble, and there are various brief sayings that were uttered to ward off such aitua, such as "Mahihi oral"

In cases of toothache I have been informed that an excellent remedy is to grip between the teeth leaves of a plant called maruru. So far this cure shows no element of interest as viewed from the angle of our chapter heading, but we are credibly informed that the sufferer must not see the said leaves, hence they must be procured and placed in his mouth by another person, if seen by the patient the leaves lose their virtue. Apparently the Maori was but seldom troubled with toothache in pre-European days. We have a dissertation on the teeth of the Maori as written by Hori Ropiha of Waipawa about the commencement of the century. He enlarges upon the fact that many of the food supplies of the Maori of old were hard, as dried fish, shellfish, fern roots, etc., and that the masticating of these helped to preserve the teeth. Soft foods, hard foods, fermented page 620and decomposed foods, all were appreciated by the Maori, and even old men and women were able to gnaw hard foods. Very few persons suffered from toothache, or as Ropiha puts it few whose teeth were assailed by tunga, for the belief was that toothache is caused by some kind of grub, tunga, which fact explains his remarks on prevention of tooth trouble. Separate food and water vessels were assigned to all persons (who would be old folk) who suffered from niho tunga or toothache. Ropiha also states that Maori methods of cooking, steaming, roasting and stone-boiling, were all good methods, and that no hot foods were taken, hence the sound teeth of the Maori.

Another modern remedy consists of a lotion made by steeping bark of the rata tree in cold water. I was informed that the bark is procured early in the morning, and that no member of the family group may partake of food or indulge in a smoke until the bark is procured and brought to the hamlet. If this rule is broken then the lotion is not prepared, for it would be quite ineffective.

When a person was afflicted by mata kiritana or a sty on the eye the following cure was a charmingly simple one; it consisted merely of pointing the finger at the eye; another called for but little more trouble, a piece of dry stick was held in contact with the affected part and then broken by a quick movement so that the snapping of the stick might be heard. I was informed that it might be necessary to repeat the act, which seems probable.

A wound in the foot, says the Maori, may cause a swelling in the groin. In order to do away with such a swelling one would procure two oven stones, such as one used in heating a steam oven, one of which was held in contact with the swelling and was struck with the second stone held in the other hand. The simplicity of this cure is alluring. For certain eye troubles, a person would procure a grass stalk, point it at the sun and then touch the affected eye with it, repeating at the same time a certain form of charm. In some cases a sick person was conveyed to the village latrine and there given some food, should he be sufficiently stout-hearted to eat the food at such a place it was accepted as a sign that he would recover. Papanui is a complaint to which women were occasionally subject, and for which they took a fearsome decoction made by boiling in water four pieces of flax root and four pieces of the plant aka taramoa. So far so good, but, strange to say, it was absolutely necessary that the pieces required should be taken from the east side of the said plants. When, however, the same materials were procured for treating stomach troubles it mattered not from which side of the plant page 621they were taken. These wai rakau or herbal remedies represent a modern usage. A piece of fern root (aruhe) was sometimes suspended from the neck to ward off sickness and disease; so far as I could ascertain this was the only true amulet connected with sickness worn by the Maori, and its use was very far from being general.

In the Reminiscences of Alexander Berry we are told of an epidemic that attacked natives of the Bay of Islands district early in last century, the cause of which malady was a remarkably strange one. The captain of a vessel lying in the bay had shown his watch to the natives, who had come to the conclusion that this strange thing that moved and spoke must necessarily be alive, also that it was an atua, something uncanny, and presumably the familiar spirit of the captain. As the vessel was about to sail from the bay the captain had the misfortune to drop his watch overboard, and so lost it. Shortly after the vessels departure an epidemic of sickness broke out among the natives, who, after much discussion and deep thought, came to the conclusion that the watch was an extremely malignant demon, an emmissary of the captain, and left behind in order that it might destroy the Maori people.

The pocket compasses carried by early travellers, missionaries, etc., were a ceaseless marvel to the Maori, who looked upon them much as he did the watch mentioned above. Even in my time, I have seen natives crowd round one to test the infallibility of the needle; young folk were much given to influencing it by means of a knife blade; the old feeling of fear had in my time died away. I have, however, known elderly natives who objected to being photographed, they having a haunting fear that the portrait in some way is the wairua or spirit of a person. One of the best anecdotes we have anent the terror caused by harmless things is that related by Nicholas about his shot pouch already given in this chronicle (Nicholas, J. L., Narrative of a Voyage to New Zealand, vol. 1, p. 254). In 1814 the Maori, in some places, had a little knowledge of firearms, but in many others he knew naught of them, save possibly some feckless rumour. The old man referred to by Nicholas had seen the effects of firearms, and when Nicholas showed him his shot pouch the old fellow trembled and turned his head away from that terrible engine of death.

Our Maori tells us that it is unlucky to hear the parangeki, a name applied to spirits, some say to spirits of the dead, and if this be correct, then they are one and the same as kehua. These shadowy beings are the only creatures who can traverse both page 622realms, this world and the world of spirits, and they are sometimes heard during the night, or in forest solitudes, strange sounds like unto people talking, murmuring and singing. At the same time ghosts might apparently be useful in some cases and, wairua are said to have acted as guides under certain circumstances. An illustration of this is given at p. 50 of vol. 14 of the Journal of the Polynesian Society ("Wars of the Northern against Southern Tribes of N.Z. In 19th C.", S. Percy Smith). When kehua afflict persons, causing sickness, they are often alluded to as kikokiko, if a person so afflicted chanced to recover he might accept and treat the kehua as a familiar spirit.

Echoes are usually a mystery to barbaric man, and the Maori held that they were produced by spirits, wairua tangata, presumably spirits of the dead. Another strange belief was that bones of the dead could, by means of a certain charm or rite, be caused to resound, and so when a man was missing, an expert might set off to search for his remains, during which journey he would ever and anon call upon the bones of the missing man to resound. A reference to this occurs in the lament for Te Maitaranui: "Tarahau nga whara, e, tarahau ki runga oMohaka; tarahau nga iwi, e, tarahau ki runga o Tangitu."

When, about twenty-five years ago, the potato crop at Ruatahuna was largely a failure, the people concluded that the calamity was a punishment inflicted upon them for their having discarded their long cherished policy of isolation and turned to have dealings with Europeans. An epidemic that swept off many children in the same district in 1897 was caused by their having lifted the tapu from the carved house at Matatua.

The evidence given here as to Maori superstition, their recognising omens in most trivial incidents, and their being influenced in weighty undertakings by trifling occurrences, all tends to illustrate the mentality of our native folk. Our Maori neighbour is a shrewd, intelligent person, until something awakens the superstitious side of his nature, and then anything may happen.

Our chapter on Omens and Superstitions is a brief one, owing to the many examples of such included under other headings.