The Maori is a philosopher and a poet, and many of his proverbial sayings express sound and salutary counsel and are couched in language euphonious and epigrammatic. Here I give some further selections from the great store of whakatauki or proverbs in the literature of the race.

On the East Coast this is sometimes said of an aged person:

“Ka eke ano i te puke ki Ruahine.” (“He is ascending the snowy mountains of the Ruahine.“)

This is one of the proverbs directed against those who claim a share in the harvest or the labours of others to which they have not contributed themselves:

“I whea koe i te tangihanga o te pipiwharauroa?” (“Where were you when the cry of the shining cuckoo was heard? —i.e., at planting time.)

In praise of prudence and industry:

“Tama tu, tama ora; tama noho, tama mate kai.” (“The young man who is up and doing shall have food to sustain him; the lazy one shall go hungry.“)

Once bitten twice shy; never again:

“He manu ka motu i te mahanga e kore e taea te whai.” (“A bird which has escaped from the snare will not be enticed into it again.“)

Take thought for the morrow, be forehanded:

“Hapainga mai he o mo tatou; kahore he tarainga here i te ara.” (“Bring food for our journey; there will be no making of bird-spears on the way.“)

The wise old people counselled selfreliance:

“He kai tangata, he kai titongitongi kaki; he kai na tona ringa, tino kai tino makona noa.” (“Food which is the fruit of another person's labour is apt to stick in the throat; food that is produced by one's own exertions is eaten with relish and is truly satisfying.“)

It is wise to get rid of the weak and doubtful, and place reliance alone on the stout-hearted:

“Ruita taitea, kia tu ko taikaka anake.” (“Discard the sapwood portions of the timber, use only the sound heart.“)

Some Place Names.

A Book could be written on the poetry, romance, adventure and exploration embodied in the Maori place-names in New Zealand. Indeed I have at hand the material for such a book, gathered in many years of enquiry all over the country, from the Far North to Stewart Island. The subject, of course, is full of pitfalls. It is amusing to notice the amazing meanings given to placenames by some people who accept hearsay versions. One of the commonest perversions concerns Aorangi, our alpine king-peak. Someone once alleged that the name meant “cloud piercer,” and that mistranslation is still, on occasion, seen in print. The name really signifies the bright light of heaven, or say, Shining Cloud. It can be construed in several ways, bearing in mind the idea that the Maoris may have so named it when they observed its summit glowing in the sun in the early morning and late evening when all the lower peaks lay in gloom. But there is no reference to “piercing” in the name.

It must be remembered that many of our map names were originally those of places in Polynesia, brought here by the early canoe voyagers and bestowed on the new land, just as the pakeha pioneer imported many of the names of his Northern page 58 page 59 birthland. There is, be it noted, a Mt. Aorangi (Aora'i) in the island of Tahiti; and some of the old South Island Maoris told me that a chief named Aorangi arrived from. Tahiti in the canoe Arai-teuru, at Moeraki; that was six centuries ago, or more. It was said, moreover, that his name was given to the highest mountain of the Southern Alps. That may have been; but at any rate the literal meaning fits the glorious peak.

A Tale of Maori Manners.

The old-time Maori was composite of many qualities. His savagery ran side by side with chivalry and a wide culture in all manner of wisdom. Here is a characteristic story which I place on record as an example of the innate politeness of the chieftains of other days. Tamarahi and I were sailing down Rotoiti Lake on a summer cruise of long ago, and we passed close to the cliffy hill-top of Motutawa, a tribal cemetery, once a populous pa. There on that commanding flat summit of the island-like headland there lived, two centuries ago, the chief Te Rangipuawhe, and of him Tamarahi, who was an Arawa well versed in his clan history, told this anecdote.

Te Rangipuawhe was the old warrior chief of the Tuhourangi tribe, whose present headquarters is Whakarewarewa, the hot-spring village. In his day they lived on Motutawa; it was their last stronghold, after being expelled from all their other pas on Rotoiti by the NgatiPikiao. The Tuhourangi made a last raid on their conquering foes, and killed a grandson of the chief Te Takinga, the leader of Ngati-Pikiao. His body they took back with them to Motutawa, where it was cooked for the delectation of the principal chiefs.

At this juncture old Te Takinga decided to visit his foeman and make peace. He and his men climbed to the palisaded village on the level brow of the castle hill. Here they found old Rangipuawhe seated in front of his house enjoying his morning meal. Before him was a flax basket of human flesh—his visitor's grandchild.

As Te Takinga was on a ceremonial friendly visit, the position was exceedingly delicate. Though each chief hated the other with a deadly hatred, neither desired to give needless offence to the other, and then both were heartily tired of the almost continual state of war that had existed for some years.

Te Rangipuawhe's embarrassment at being discovered feasting on the flesh of his visitor's grandchild was observed by Te Takinga, who, with the consideration of the true Maori rangatira, made a courteous gesture and said: “E Rangi! Do not cease eating.” For as Tamarahi explained, the flesh which the Tuhourangi chief was eating was not “murdered food” but man slain in fair fight.

Old Te Rangipuawhe's heart was much relieved, and in his gratitude for Te Takinga's words he said: “Friend, I cannot undo what has been done. I have eaten your grandchild. But I shall make recompense. I shall leave this place to you; I and my tribe will abandon Motutawa to you. We will leave Rotoiti's shores for ever. Farewell, my fighting friend!”

And that was how the Tuhourangi came to evacuate their great fort on beautiful Rotoiti. They cried their farewells; they migrated to Rotorua, and then to the shore of Lake Tarawera; and the Tarawera eruption in 1886 caused them in turn to desert their devastated homes there, and they shifted to Whakarewarewa. And the principal man among them to-day is a direct descendant and a namesake of good old Rangipuawhe, the polite cannibal of Motutawa.