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Tales of Banks Peninsula

The Legend of Onawe

page 387

The Legend of Onawe.

Land of the forest and the hill!
Land of tall fern and tussock brown!
Where lake-like waters, calm and still,
Reflect the crags that o'er them frown;
Where mighty monsters of the deep -
The Taniwhas* of ancient story—
Watched their grim infants' happy sleep
Beneath the Southern planets' glory!
Land of tall pine, of graceful vines,

Where tuis gurgle in the shade!
Where, in white wreaths, clematis twines,
And kaka screams in ferny glade.
How many a tale of passion past Thy rocks could tell,
if speech were given, Of heroes struggling to the last,
Of dire revenge, of races driven
From this fair home—their last hopes riven!

Where the proud waves come swelling high
Up Whangaroa's Haibour fair,
A peak mounts startling to the sky,
With base like some gigantic pear.
Sternly it meets the advancing tide,
And bids the crested horses stay.
The conquered waters, baulked, divide,
And form on either side a bay;
And there, in those wild days of yore, The Waka Maori floated light,
And many a dusky maiden saw Her lover on some starry night,
And each read in the others eyes The old, old story, that never dies.

* Before the advent of the whalers Akaroa Harbour was the constant resort of the cow whales with their calves.

Whangaroa is the real name of Akaroa.

Waka Maori! Maori canoe.

page 388

Lost is the time in ages dim,
Since this stern peak first gained the name
From wise Tohunga's visions grim,
That placed it high in Maori fame. *
Onawe! Home of him who holds
The mighty winds that restless sweep!
Who bids them in their treacherous foils
Engulph the Wanderers o'er the deep,
Or curbs the restless course to calm,
Or lets the gentle zephyr play
The wearied mariner to charm,
And waft him on his watery way-

Home of the Spirit of the Wind!
Where the dread Atua held his sway,
When luckless mortal sought to find
Him whom the winds alone obey,
A dreadful voice, in accents deep,
Would call from out the rocky steep,
'What want you here? Begone! Begone!
" And lucky he if, e'er the mora,
The winds had spared from vengeance dour
One who had braved the Atua's power.

The ages passed, and from the North The restless pakeha races came;
Their cannons belched loud thunders forth.
The Taniwha's gigantic frame,
Pierced by their lances, gave its life;
And trees were felled, and a new light,
Foreboding change and peace from strife,
Dawned on the ancient Maori night.
Then those stern gods, whose bloody reign
Had lasted from the ages past,
Saw that the struggle must be vain,
And that their power had gone at last,
For the blind faith that long had spread
Its shelter o'er them was no more;
And once that faith in creeds is dead,
Their might is gone, their rule is o'er.

* Tohunga: Maori priest or prophet

Atua: Maori God.

page 389

Yet lingered in his storied pJace,
Onawe's spirit; though despair;
In windy tempests men might trace,
That showed the Atuas of the air
Were restless in their ancient hold,
Which ne'er again would faith unfold.
At last, upon a fatal day,
A young Ngai Tahu * warrior came,
And fired a musket in his play!
A shudder shook the mountain's frame;
A mighty tempest swept the deep;
The great waves rolled, the thunders pealed,
And dusky vapours sullen sweep
And hide the heavens with livid shield!

And o'er the summit of the storm
The Atua's voice came stern and high,
And shadow of a mighty form
Rose God-like towards the darkened sky.
"I go:" the giant spirit cried.
"Never again will Atua's cry
Be borne on. Whangaroa's tide
To warn of stormy danger nigh.
But e'er I fly, Ngai Tahn hear:
Thy faithless race has dared profane
My sacred shrine, once held so dear,
With murderous offspring of the brain
Of that new race that swept away
The records of the ages past.
Deluded Maori! Thy brief day Is setting, and the shadows vast
Close o'er Ngai Tabu's hapless head,
Till it is numbered with the dead!
Here, on Onawe's fated strand,
The last poor remnant of thy race
Shall struggle for their fathers' land,
And coming pakehas will trace
The mighty earthworks raised in vain
Against the conquering Northern tribe,"

* Ngai Tahu: The tribe that held the Peninsula at the time of its first being visited by Europeans.

page 390 The tempest ceased, the spirit fied;
Once more the radiant sunbeams shed
Their glories over earth and sea;
And the fierce tribe that long had stood
Owners of land, and wave and wood,
Knew well the Atua's prophecy
Was true, and that Ngai
Tahu's race Should quickly fall from power and place,
And, conquered, fighting die!

True wes the Atua's warning dread
E'er fifty summer suns had shed
Their rays upon Onawe's head,
The fierce Te Raupahara* came,
And Ngatitoas' warriors bold,
Stormed fierce Ngai Tahu's storied hold,
And left them—scarce a name!
And where the Atua once had reigned,
The dreaded Northern warriors drained
The life-blood of their foes.
But even now, when feuds are o'er,
And peace reigns on the tranquil shore,
The Maori chieftain shows
The mighty earthworks of the past—
Where brave Ngai Tahu made the last
Great struggle for their land;
And, fighting with their Northern foes,
Found in grim death their last repose
On fair Onawe's strand!

* Rauparaha: The Wellington chief that conquered the Ngai Tahus.

Ngatitoas: The name of Rauparaha's tribe.