The Warrior Tattoo.

The Maori is changing indeed. The young generation of dairy farmers is busy placing itself on an industrial level with the pakeha; it is concerned with new interests, new recreations. Wherefore such gatherings as the recent Aotea canoe memorial celebrations at Patea are useful in reminding the modern Maori of his race's heroic past. One feature of the old life that has almost quite disappeared is the once universal moko or tattoo. Many women still bear the kauwae or chin-tattoo; the old-time expression “blue-lips” still applies. The artistic pattern of the kauwae matches well the brown skin; it is a fitting adornment of which Maori womankind should be proud. But the tattooed warrior face we used to see everywhere in the northern districts has all but vanished. I think there are only two men still living whose faces bear the lines of the tohunga-ta-moko's chisel. One is in the Hokianga country; another in the Urewera mountains. They are very old men, ninety at least; and maybe they are gathered to their fathers by this time.

There was a time, not so very long ago, when an untattooed elderly man was a rare sight. An undecorated brown face looked bare and unfinished. They were wonderful facial art-galleries, many of those grand old fellows of one's long-ago acquaintance. Some faces were almost black with moko, so completely had the artist covered the skin, or rather punctured it, with his scrolled designs. I regret the passing of the ancient art; one of the most distinctive things about our native country people, as they were.

Yes, our Maoris are not what they were! Suggest to a young cow-spanker and tennis-player of Ruatoki that it is time he submitted himself to the tender attentions of the tattooing artist, and list to his pained reply, in the picturesque language of the talkie films.