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THE MAORI
First Published, 1924.
Re-issued, 1941.
High-class ritual pertained only to superior families—The first-born male and female children of most importance—Tutelary beings presiding over birth—The Children of the Mist, born of the Mist Maid—The
It has already been explained that the Maori has strong aristocratic tendencies, and that the more elaborate ceremonies and high-class ritual were not employed in connection with the common folk of a community. Thus it is that, in order to explain the more interesting customs and practices connected with birth, it will be necessary for us to deal with a family of the chieftain class. With regard to the science of genesiology, the writer happens to possess a somewhat extensive budget of data as collected from several different tribes. This budget includes the higher form of ritual employed by the Takitumu folk. The ritual connected with birth, as pertaining to the cult of Io, the Supreme Being, is of special interest, as in the dedication of the child to that
The most elaborate ceremonial was that connected with the first-born male child of a superior family, younger sons were not, apparently, honoured to so great a degree. The first-born female of such a family was, in like manner, considered to be of more importance than later-born females. The tutelary beings presiding over birth were Hina-te-iwaiwa or Hine-te-iwaiwa, and Hine-korako, both of whom are lunar personifications. In olden times marvellous things occurred in the world of light, according to Maori myth and folk lore, hence we hear of strange cases of unnatural birth and weird forms of parentage. A few such cases have been described. My old friends of the Tuhoe tribe are descended from Hine-pukohu the Mist Maid, who came down from the heavens and mated with Te Maunga (The Mountain), their progeny being one Potiki, the eponymic ancestor of the tribe Nga Potiki, called Tuhoe in later times. These fierce, virile bushmen are of celestial origin, they were born of mist and mountain; they are the Children of the Mist.
The condition of
In the case of a high-born woman, laborious work would not be expected of her when it was known that she was with child. Also the people of the community would probably visit her in a body and congratulate her on her being about
A very peculiar rite, known as
The causing of conception by means of trees and stones possessing the necessary powers has already been described. Polack, an early sojourner among the northern tribes, tells us of a shamanistic
A rite, termed Tuapa, was sometimes performed in order to prevent conception in a woman, as one who wearied of child-bearing. In this rite a stone was employed as an emblem of sterility. Some natives assert that the sex of a child can be ascertained prior to birth by means of certain signs. One such is as follows:—If the dark parts of a woman's breasts are comparatively extensive, then the child is a female; if the reverse, the child is a male. Again, the natives believe that the unborn child receives sustenance from the mother through the fontanelles, or
In olden days childless women sometimes carried and nursed a kind of dummy child, or sooterkin, such as a small wooden image of human form, or a stone with a piece of garment wrapped round it. A Tuhoe woman utilised a large potato as a sooterkin, and when, in later days, she gave birth to a child it was named Tama-riwai (Potato Son) in memory of the potato child. Women sang lullabies over these inanimate children as they would sing to living ones. I have collected several such songs. Nearly five decades ago I knew a childless native woman who nursed and carried a young pig as a substitute for genuine offspring. Still earlier sojourners in Maoriland have seen women suckling young pigs.
In some parts at least a pregnant woman was not allowed to have her hair cut, lest the child should be stunted in its
The period of birth among mankind is based on the mystic twelve nights periods of the first of all acts of parturition, when the Earth Mother brought forth her young to the world of light. These
If a first-born child died in infancy the parents would probably get priest to perform the
The
The comparatively comfortable hut described below was by no means always in evidence, and women often needed a Spartan-like spirit of endurance to face hardships imposed upon them. In 1814 the Rev.
Some tell us that great care was taken to avoid pollution of the sacred life principle of the infant during its first week or so in the world of life, that is until the Tua rite was performed over it. After that performance danger would be lessened; the gods would be watching over the child. Thus the mother would leave her hut to partake of food, lest the child become defiled, and great care was displayed in conveying food to the mother.
In a long account of the erection of the “nest house,” or hut, we are told that no window space was left in it, but two ventilation apertures
Certain primitive sanitary arrangements were made behind the hut for the benefit of the woman. When near her time she would take up her abode in this “nest house,” accompanied by two of her female relatives to act as
In parturition a native woman kneels down with her knees well apart. An attendant woman squats down in front of her and the two clasp each other round the body, below the arms. The attendent puts her knee against the body of her charge, on the upper part of the abdomen, and presses it downward. Should a woman be overtaken when away alone, as in the forest, she would seek a stout stick and lash it in a horizontal position to two saplings at a proper height. This rude obstetric apparatus is termed a
In some cases of
This reference to the first of human mothers was held to be most helpful. This formula was recited to induce the woman to bear herself right bravely. The priest then repeated the following to cause the child to be born in a correct manner: “Now I appeal to the gods of heaven and earth that they may cause you to come forth to Tahuaroa, to this world. Come forth, O child! Tread thy path, the broad way of Tane. Bring thyself by the way of thy ancestress Hinetitama, who came forth to this world to dwell in peace within Hui-te-ananui. Content shall be thy lot in the world of life and light, and sighs of relief shall proclaim the ordeal past, O child!”
Tahuaroa is a name for this world, the fair earth, and Hui-te-ana-nui was the abode or domicile of Hine-titama, the Dawn Maid; it was erected by Tane and Tangaroa.
In some cases other formulæ were repeated by a priest in order to cause a child to be born. The higher-class effusions were addressed to Io. When it was known that a woman of rank had given birth to a child, then people began to collect gifts of food products, garments, etc., for the occasion of the ceremonial greeting of child and mother, known as the Maioha function. Should a priest or other learned person be present at the birth of a child, or shortly afterwards, he would welcome it into the world with such a brief address as the following: “Welcome, O child! Thou who comest from far Tawhiti-nui, from Tawhiti-roa, from Tawhiti-pamamao and Te Hono-i-wairua.” Thus the child was welcomed as having come from the old homeland of the race.
Cases of difficult parturition may be induced by mental worry or by delinquencies, wrongdoing, and on such an occasion a priest might recite the following: “Welcome, O child! I greet you coming from the calm haven to cross the threshhold of Huaki-pouri, as formed by Tane at the Strand
As the chaunt ceased, the priest, with his right hand, touched the head of the woman, and then the child would be born. Should, however, the case still prove to be an obstinate one, then the woman would be conveyed to the
In the East Coast district the
In the case of a stillborn child, the woman would return to her home in the village, and it might be decided that the gifts destined for the child should be presented to her, in which case a ceremonious function was held, after which came a feast, at which the woman and her near relatives would eat apart from the people.
A sharp-edged flake of obsidian, or a form of chert, was used for cutting the
A singular belief obtained in some districts that a male child is never born during an easterly or northerly wind, or a female child during a southerly or westerly one.
The following is one of the higher forms of ritual intoned by a priest during parturition. It calls upon the child to come forth to the world of life, and upon Io the Supreme Being to favour it and bring it into being as a living soul. It is an interesting formula to record, and well worthy of study by Maori linguists:—
When the
The officiating priests would select a place whereat the rite might be performed, some stream at a secluded spot where water waist deep was available. Such a baptismal font was called
The baptismal party formed a small procession in proceeding to the (Pittosporum) or (Myrsine) or Coprosma). On reaching the place selected, the two female attendants advanced and took their stand by the side of the assistant priest. That functionary then proceeded to spread a mat at the edge of the water. On this he spread two fine woven cloaks of superior make, probably a
The mother takes her position on the left of her husband; their parents stand behind them. The mother holds her infant so that its head rests on her right arm. The two priests and one of the female attendants stand on the right of the parents, the other (see ante), these waters of Tawhiri-matea, of Te Ihorangi, of Papa-tuanuku, and of Para-whenua-mea, and repeats the name which has been assigned to the child. The four names here mentioned are those of the personified forms of air, rain, earth and the waters of the earth. The priest then covers the mouth and nostrils of the child with his free hand, stoops and immerses his own body and that of the child in the water. Rising therefrom he turns the child so that the water will run from its ears. He then hands the child to its father, who passes it over to the mother.
The assistant priest now plucks a few pieces of herbage, anything growing at the place, and hands them to the baptising priest. The latter, holding the leaves in his hands, repeats a brief chaunt: “Here is thy disciple, a disciple of thine, O Io the Parent! Given over to thee that he may develop and become a goodly person in thy eyes. For thine is this child, this disciple, a disciple who inherits the teachings of the ages.”
At this juncture the priest releases the leaves in his hand, and allows them to drift away on the waters of the stream. This is a divinatory act; from the drift of those leaves the priest will read the future welfare and ability of the child, its earthly destiny, be it good or evil. The child is now launched into the world as a separate personality, as it were. The sympathetic bond that has united it to the mother is severed; the mental or moral phases of the mother's nature will no longer affect the child as they have hitherto. The immersion of the child has also banished all evil or earthly influences over it, and brings it under the influence of the gods.
The head priest now renders another formula, which runs somewhat as follows: “Here am I, a servant in thy service, O Tawhiri-matea on high…. O Whaitiri! Deal kindly with this son of thine, O Tama-te-uira! Let all desirable traits be assigned to this child of rank, this disciple of thine, O Tawhiri-matea!” These beings mentioned are the personified forms of wind, or air, of thunder, and of lightning. This is a prelude to the rite termed Oho rangi, which betokens an awakening of the heavens. The priest takes two stones, strikes them forcibly together, and throws them up in the air. If that priest possesses sufficient
We now come to an extremely interesting ceremony, to which parallels may be found in Indian and ancient Babylonian lore. This act is the ceremonial releasing of a bird, a peculiar method of communicating with the gods employed by priests of southern Asia and New Zealand. When the priest leaves the water he must be careful not to wipe or dry his body, or even to
The only explanation I have received of the above act is the following, but I cannot say that it is the correct one; it presents an element of doubt:—The priest has already beseeched the gods to endow the child with
Our priest now proceeds to the rear of the Here the name of the child would be used.
Our baptismal party would now return to the village. As the procession approached the village, the assistant priest would chaunt the
There are different forms of the short response uttered by the people at the conclusion of the chaunt above mentioned. One form is as follows: “Welcome, O child! To this world, the world of light.” No formula containing any reference to the Supreme Being was chaunted in the presence of the people; his name was too
Such was the
A fine
As observed, these ceremonies differed as in different districts. In one account the
As he concludes this recital the priest dips up a little water in his right hand and sprinkles it over the parents of the child as they stand on the
One of the old wise men of last century explained the act of laying the child's head upon a weapon as a substitute for the old custom of human sacrifice at such a function.
The final act of the priest consisted in freeing from
The Maori had much practise in cutting up the human body for the oven, and possessed a very fair empirical knowledge of anatomy, but he does not seem to have recognised the function of the umbilical cord. I have before me a list of names of parts of the human body, as known to the Maori, and the list contains one hundred and eighty-two names. Some, however, are duplicate names.
Congenital stigmas occurred among these natives, though personally I have seen but few cases. Albinism certainly occurred, and the reddish haired, fair skinned type is an interesting one.
The Tua rite was essentially a purificatory one, and apparently the Tohi had a similar effect. It removed the
Among the Matatua tribes the Tua rite seems to have been a different function to the Tohi, and it was performed at the nest house prior to the baptism of the infant in the
The stigma of illegitimacy was keenly felt by youthful unfortunates, but was not so much heard of in later years. If the person became a useful member of the community he did not suffer much from the title of
When desirous of weaning a child a woman would sometimes rub her breasts with the bitter sap of the (Lomaria fluviatilis), of the clematis, or of the horopito
(Drimys axillaris). In some cases children were allowed to suckle until they could run about. Many will explain that children were weaned when they could turn over, that is when they had gained some command over their bodies. In extreme cases of lack of milk, a condition that occurred but seldom apparently, a favoured food for the infant was the flesh of young birds, which was masticated by the mother ere feeding her child. A belief obtained in some parts that, should any of a mother's milk chance to drop into a fire, a stoppage of the flow of milk would result.
An only child is described as a couvade among our Maori folk. A result, apparently, of contact with civilisation is the number of childless couples among the natives at the present day.
Natives did not like to see an infant handled much or frequently by others than its parents. When a child was old enough to attempt to walk, then an apparatus called a
The Matatua folk are said to have occasionally used a form of swinging cradle, termed a
Now when a child is born, one of the first acts performed is to shake it somewhat vigorously in order to expel the
The form of massage performed on an infant is described by the term This statement is denied by many natives.
The following remarks have been culled from a contribution on the care of children in former times made by
… The salvation of the men of old was the attention they paid to raising children, for they well knew that safety lay in numbers, and that rank could be maintained only by tribal strength. Thus they proved the truth of the old saying that a house built within a fortified village is a token of
Each of the twelve names of Io, the Supreme Being, represents a certain quality or attribute. That of Io-matua was employed in the Tohi ariki rite, for it meant Io the Parent. In the rite performed in order to endow a child with mental vigour, the ability to acquire desirable knowledge, the form employed was Io-mataaho (Io the enlightener). In that performed over pupils in the
In olden days a very strange custom obtained among some northern tribes. In at least some cases of parturition the father or grandfather would be in attendance for the peculiar purpose of playing a flute
Now in the great island of New Guinea we find a curiously parallel practice. The natives of British New Guinea employ both “male” and “female” flutes in ritual performances. As Mr. Haddon writes: “The sacred flutes play an important part in ceremonies.” Also: “They are blown on the completion of a chief's house, at initiations, and after the burial of the male dead… It would seem that the flutes have some connection with procreation.” Mr. Haddon's paper on “Migration Cultures in British New Guinea” appeared in Vol. L. of the Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute.
Infanticide was not unknown here in former times, though it was never practised to the extent that it was in some of the thickly-populated isles of Polynesia, Tahiti for example.
In some parts, when a charm was recited over a male infant to cause him to develop the qualities of a warrior, the mother placed a small stick in the child's hand to represent a weapon, and held it there during the repetition of the charm. If a female child it would be dedicated to Hine-te-iwaiwa, the patroness of women and women's arts and industries. The charm would be one to cause the child to be diligent in acquiring such arts, and also industrious in after life. A small hank of dressed Phormium fibre was held in the infant's hand as the charm was being recited.
Such are some of the quaint customs of the barbaric Maori as pertaining to reproduction. The higher forms of ritual pertaining to birth and death are extremely interesting, as the dedication or offering of the infant to the Supreme Being from whom all life and all things emanated, and to whom the soul of man returns at the death of the body.
Meanwhile we will leave the mother and child at the door of the “nest house” to illustrate a saying as old as the days of Tane and of the Earth Formed Maid: “
Personified forms of sickness, disease and death—Maui and Hine—Origin of death—The
We are now about to pass under the shadow of Maiki-nui and Whiro, the personified forms of sickness, disease and death in Maori myth, whose ceaseless attacks on mankind have already been explained. Hine-nui-te-po, the ex-Dawn Maid, is also connected with death in popular belief, and more is heard of her in that connection than of Whiro. The inner teachings concerning these things have already been explained. Maui the hero is said to have disputed with Hine on the subject of death, for he desired that death should be a temporary condition. Said Maui: “Even as the moon dies, and, having bathed in the Waiora a Tane, returns to this world once more young and beautiful, so let man die and revive.” But Hine of the Night said: “Not so. Rather shall man die and return to the Earth Mother for all time, even that he may be mourned and wept for.” Thus, when man dies, he is laid within the body of the primal mother, and in this world is seen never again. Nought is seen or heard save mourning parties wailing for the dead. For of old it was said: “By tears and lamentation only may a natural death be avenged.” The changing generations come and go, and ever, as of yore, dread Maiki-nui and Aitua assail the descendants of Tane and the Earth Formed Maid.
Concerning the origin of death, the Maori is not satisfied with having but one version to account for its entry into the world of life. The commonly accepted version is that of the contest between Maui and Hine, as representing Light and Darkness, Life and Death. Another version attributes it to the similar contest between Tane and Whiro. The latter introduced death into the world because he was not given his own way with regard to the qualities men should be endowed with, and because of his hostility towards Tane.
Another story tells us that death was made permanent when Hine descended to the underworld. Whiro and Hine
All things of earth know death. All things possess a soul or life principle, hence all things must, sooner or later, perish. So says the Maori. All mankind must traverse the broad path of Tane, for death is universal. Character cannot ward off the attacks of Maiki-nui and Whiro, hence another saying that has come down the centuries: “
The supernatural beings known as Te Kahui anu are said to represent both death and life. The right hand of such beings represents life, the left hand death. They are the origin of many omens and evil forces.
When a Maori is near his death he may be heard to say: “——is calling me,” mentioning the name of a defunct relative. The spirits of his forbears are calling to him to join them in the spirit world. When a native is in this frame of mind it would be a marvel were he to recover. For there is much of fatalism in the Polynesian character, and the Maori branch of the race has its full share of this peculiarity. Melancholia, nurtured by superstition, is often rapidly fatal among these people. Dr. W. H. Goldie has described clearly the effect of such mental depression on the organs.
The usual explanation has now to be made in connection with ceremonial performances pertaining to death, namely, that the higher-class ritual was practised only in connection
Although the Maori is a fatalist, and so may allow his mind to destroy his body, yet his views on the subject of death are essentially Oriental. He has never passed, as we have, through long, weary centuries of teachings concerning dreadful suffering in the spirit world. Thrice fortunate is the barbaric Maori in that he has not been taught to fear the hereafter.
Of Maori fatalism and the condition of melancholia that hinges upon it, and is produced so easily, we have already seen something in our examination of the arts of black magic. Often have I noted how the will to live is lacking in the Maori when illness seizes him, how easily he resigns himself to think of death. The attitude and treatment of his friends serve to strengthen such a mental condition; they so often seem to make up their minds that he is on his death bed. Nor are they backward in letting him know their conclusions. The shamanistic humbugs on whom the Maori relies so much in sickness are past masters in the art of dispatching him to Rarohenga. Not only is this done by outrageous treatment and vile modern nostrums, but also often by plain intimation that the sick person cannot recover. Many such cases have I known; let a lone illustration suffice. A young girl, by no means seriously ill, apparently, was brought to one of these wretched impostors known to local fame as “The New Messiah.” His verdict was brief and effective; he just glanced at her and remarked: “In one week she will be dead,” which she assuredly was.
The late Dr. W. H. Goldie studied this Maori form of melancholia, and has left us some interesting remarks on the
The Maori terms a natural death
It is a singular fact that, when the Maori was made acquainted with European medicines, he took to them in a manner most enthusiastic. He developed a marvellous appetite for medicine, no matter what the remedy might be, or whether he possessed any ailment or not. When camped in the byways of the land I have known natives enjoy themselves by sampling any
The Maori attitude of resignation to the strokes of Aituā (personified form of misfortune) has been made clear. Yet, in some cases, he can summon will power to fight the grim forces of Whiro and Maiki-nui in manner most surprising. It is now two decades since old Whakamoe lay sick unto death by the shores of the Lake of Rippling Waters, where giant Huiarau looks down on two seas. When believed to be near his end, the old man informed his clansmen that he would not die until he had welcomed to his plaza the Land Commissioners appointed to define native interests in the adjacent lands. Days ran into weeks, and both Commissioners and chieftain lingered. Then, one fair day, the white man's boat and native canoes were seen gliding out from the shadow of Huiarau and heading for the eastern shore of the mountain lake. When the visitors, European and native, marched on to the plaza, the world weary old man was waiting for them. He lay on his rude couch on the ground, and, in that position, uttered his speech of welcome. He then addressed his clansmen, commended the guests to their care, advised them on the conduct of affairs, and urged them to live in amity “for sympathy and good feeling are the most important
Under the heading “Treatment of the Sick” we shall encounter some of the unpleasing characteristics of the Maori people, for their treatment of the sick bears often the aspect of callous indifference to the suffering of the patient. This is largely due to superstition. The peculiar prejudices of these natives caused them to remove a sick person from his dwellingplace and to convey him to a rude, temporary hut at the out skirts of the hamlet. In these times a tent is often utilised for the purpose. Also magic, superstitious practices, thaumaturgy, entered largely into the treatment of sick persons. The practices of high-class
Offences against the innumerable rules of
I cannot agree with the late Dr. Goldie's statement that, among the Polynesians, disease was not frequently attributed to demoniac possession; he substitutes the expression “ghostly possession.” But it was an error to maintain that the lizard or other emissary of an affiicting
When a native is taken ill away from his home it is, or was, quite a common occurrence for him to be carried back to that home on a litter
So far as we know the Maori seems to have been afflicted by comparatively few diseases in pre-European days. If he escaped the anger of the gods, the chances of war, and death by accident, he lived to a green old age; so say his descendants. It must have been a case of the survival of the fittest. Take, for example, my old friends of the Tuhoe tribe, who have dwelt for centuries in their rugged, forest-clad, highlying district. These folk possessed but a minimum of clothing, the Phormium plant did not flourish in their region. Children ran naked for the first six or eight years of life. Note Colenso's account of seeing naked children playing about in the snow. And these fierce bushmen were renowned for vigour and endurance, and a heavy hand in war; they were “
Captain
Now, it is a well-known fact that, during early days of European voyagers in the Pacific, including the earlier part of last century, a serious epidemic often followed the visit of a European vessel to an island. Just what these maladies were it is impossible to say. Maori tradition tells us of several serious devastating epidemics
The arrival of the British ship Coromandel in 1820 was marked by another dread scourge known to the Maori as Te Ariki. Probably some of these epidemics were of a nature not very serious to Europeans, as I have known influenza to cause the death of many natives when but very few Europeans died. Isolated for centuries in these islands, the Maori seems to have become peculiarly liable to suffer from any introduced complaint. The ravages of syphilis, when first introduced, were shocking, but it seems to have now become very much less virulent. Since Europeans have settled here the Maori appears to have become very liable to what is generally termed consumption, and it is probable that the change in his clothing and mode of life was responsible for it. The Maori had become inured to his rough, harsh fibre capes, waterproof and easily cast off when he entered a hut. When, however, he obtained European garments, which are not waterproof, he kept his wet garments on until he went to his bed. The abandonment of his fortified villages, situated on hill tops, and the dwelling in low-lying, damp, or wet situations, also doubtless had its effect. Moreover, on acquiring the potato and other introduced food supplies, he was no longer obliged to spend most of his time in some form of labour. These changes have probably had some influence on the former robust health and vigour of the Maori. The present generation does not possess the stamina of its forbears.
Now there is one more cause, I maintain, for the decline of vigour in the Maori, though this is a matter in which many will not agree with me. The cause alluded to is a form of despondency, a phase of melancholia. The Maori of yore held that in order to retain his physical welfare, he must preserve his condition of
I have known several old natives who were in a pathetic condition of doubt as to which gods they should appeal to. When an epidemic of influenza swept off many of the children of the Tuhoe folk in the “nineties,” one tattooed old bushman prayed to the white man's God to spare his grandchildren, and also performed over them the Tohi ora rite of his fathers in order to retain them in the world of life. To put the matter briefly, physical welfare lay in the hands of the gods.
Another old friend of mine considered that his people had erred in abandoning their racial gods: “I tell you that the Maori is in fault. He has deserted his old gods, institutions, and beliefs; now they have turned against him and are destroying him. How is it possible for us to survive? I say to you that I am resolved to return to the beliefs of my fathers.” Even so the struggle goes on, and a world of pathos lay in the remarks, and doubts, and groping quest of the old barbarian. But his quest has long been over, for he has passed over the gleaming path of Tane that leads to Rarohenga. Surely when welcomed by the celestial maids of the realm of Io the Parent, he came to know the quest of all mankind. “
One often notices great reluctance in natives to consulting European doctors, one reason being the dread of operations, though they would probably be more stoical than white folk at such a time. Members of the modern Ringa-tu cult of the Matatua district show this reluctance very strongly. The
In order to ascertain the cause of a person's illness, a (Coprosma) in his hand the priest entered the stream, dipped the leafy branchlet in it, and sprinkled the water over his patient. At the same time he intoned an incantation called a
In some cases, we are told, when a patient was far gone, he would gasp and expire at the mention of the name of the sorcerer who had bewitched him, or at the repetition of the name of whatever had caused his death.
On the east coast of the North Island the following was an old practice. When a person was seized with illness, a relative would procure a branch or wand of (Coprosma) and apply it to the body of the sufferer, so as to cause his
(Here he grasps the shrub with both hands).
Here he pulls the shrub up by the roots. If those roots come away unbroken, then the patient will recover: should they break, then death lies before. On such trivial happenings do the lives of man hang.
When a priest has performed the diagnostic rite over a patient, and discovers that a certain sorcerer is responsible for the person's illness, he will say: “So-and-so has bewitched you, I see his
The worthy
Yet another mode of divining the fate of the invalid: The shaman proceeds to a place where the Phormium plant is growing. He grasps one of the young inner leaves and repeats: “A seeking, a searching. To seek whither? To seek inland; to seek at the base; to seek at the root; to seek in the spirit world; to seek of the gods. Be thou effective.” He then pulls the leaf from the surrounding fan, and, if the severance causes a screeching sound (as it often does), then the sick person will recover. In a case where this is the first act performed by the shaman in connection with the invalid, he will use the above leaf as an
If the cause of a person's illness is found to be an infringement of the laws of
In some cases the final act performed by the officiating
Another peculiar rite connected with sickness was that known as Ngau paepae, surely one of the most extraordinary ceremonies encountered among this strange folk. It consisted of causing a sick person to bite, or go through the motion of biting, the horizontal beam of the village latrine. The expression given above means literally “beam biting,” the
Persons who had been bewitched were sometimes restored to a healthy condition by means of the Kai ure rite, already referred to, which consisted of reciting a certain formula while clasping the phallus in the hand. Kahukura, Maru and Tunuia-te-ika were gods appealed to in many cases of sickness, as also others. Rongomai was appealed to by any one in peril at sea, as also was Ruamano. We also find Tiki and Pani appealed to to restore a sick person to health. To so appeal to the former was quite natural when we consider the peculiar qualities the Maori endowed the phallus with. Why the Maori appealed to Pani in sickness is not clear, masmuch as she occupies the place of Ceres, and was probably originally connected with grain. The three
The Rev. Mr. Wohlers, pioneer missionary in the far south, found that sick persons were often treated in a deplorable manner. He also found the natives of that region to be suffering a good deal from consumption of some form. This seems probable, when we remember that the Polynesian race has evidently always occupied warm climate lands, back to the days when they dwelt in their old homeland. Another matter to be noted in works of early sojourners in these isles is the fact that they were often prevented from giving food or medicine to a sick native on account of the
Bathing in cold water was, and is, practised in a most unwise manner by persons suffering from illness. Pains in the back were sometimes treated by employing a Spartan-like remedy, the
I am now about to inflict upon the hapless reader certain relations obtained from Takitumu natives illustrating old customs pertaining to the subjects of this chapter. We are about to see what methods were adopted by high-class priests in connection with sickness.
Te Moana-nui (the Great Ocean), an important chief of the Napier district, was seized with illness at his home at Waipureku, near Taradale. His illness was of that form known as
Two experts, relatives of the sick man, were called in to attend him, and it was believed that the malady was a
Before dawn the two priestly experts proceeded to the water, and immersed their bodies therein. They then proceeded to the house where the sick man was lying. As they approached the house, the famed
When this question of moral purity entered into a rite, the priest would say to the subject: “
To resume: The officiating priests called upon the gods mentioned above because, when the patient underwent the Tohi rite in infancy, he had been placed under the care of those gods, or some of them. Not knowing precisely which gods had entered into that Tohi rite, they introduced a number of names so as to be sure of including the right ones. Then was introduced the name of Great Io, the possessor of the greatest
Tareahi then stepped forward, and, with his right hand, grasped the right hand of Te Moana-nui, while he intoned yet another invocation. This effusion advises the gods of the fact that the priests officiating are responsible experts in the matter of the ritual being conducted. Also it asks that health and strength be restored to the sufferer, that his blood, flesh, organs and breath regain their normal condition. After this the body of the patient was lowered to a recumbent position.
Then the two priests knelt down, one on either side of the subject, and facing him, while each placed his left hand on the head of the patient. Each priest then raised his right hand so that it and the forearm was in a vertical position, and here another sacred formula was intoned. This I was unable to collect, but its object, or one of them, was to tranquilise the mind of the sick man, and to give him confidence in the efficacy of the proceedings. It was directed to the
Owing possibly to the exertions of the two priests, the Great Ocean recovered from his illness.
A peculiar rite, termed Whakanoho manawa, was sometimes performed over a sick person in order to restore him to health. A number of the incantations recited by a Pteris aquilina, called “fernroot” by us; it was termed a
Affections of the throat were said to have been caused by the sufferer having eaten some
It seems probable that the Maori had some form of scrofulous complaint, such as that termed
Goitre certainly was known here in former times; it is called
Judging from the teeth seen in many hundreds of old skulls, the Maori should not have suffered much from tooth ache in olden times. Toothache was known as
To cure a swelling in the groin natives procured two of the stones used in the steam oven. One of these was held on the swelling and struck a sharp blow with the other; the remedy seems to be a simple one. To restore a person apparently drowned the treatment was that called
Natives tell me that they know of two kinds of worms that sometimes afflict them; they term them
Insane persons
Suicide was not uncommon, as among widows when their husbands died. Ridicule and ill-treatment by a husband sometimes caused such an act of
An epidemic is alluded to as a
One way of curing a headache was to procure a piece of cooked food and wave it over the sufferer's head. As the malady is caused by an
Eye troubles were somewhat common, apparently, in olden times, especially in the case of old folk; caused, doubtless, by their smoky huts.
A hut erected for a sick person was often alluded to as a
Of the great number of herbal remedies employed by the modern Maori I do not intend to give any list. They represent a post-European usage, and may well be omitted.
The Maori had several poisonous vegetable substances to beware of. The kernels of the (Corynocarpus lavigata), if eaten uncooked, have the effect of causing distressing contraction of the limbs: It is said that a person so afflicted was buried up to his neck until the danger was over. A person who eats a certain poisonous fungus uncooked is also seriously affected, as also is one who eats the seeds of the (Coriaria). The poisonous Ranunculus, is dangerous only to stock, and that of the blossoms of the ( Brachyglottis repanda) did not affect the Maori until the honey bee was introduced by us. Persons suffering from the effect of eating the poisonous berries of the
From the foregoing notes it will be readily seen that sick persons were treated in no gentle manner in the Maori commune in many cases. From our point of view there was often a lack of human sympathy shown. Superstition was largely responsible for this, as also surviving ideas from an ancient period of savagery when sick or decrepit persons were simply viewed as encumbrances, as witness old-time practices of the Wends of Germany, and modern ones of the Battaks of Sumatra.
When it is known that a person is near to death, then his relatives gather round to attend on him during his last moments, this act being described by the term whakahemo-
hemo. At this time it was that the head of a family would make known his last wishes, his parting injunctions being known as
When very near his end cries of farewell might be heard from the assembled folk, farewelling the dying person to the spirit world ere the breath of life had passed from his world-weary body. In modern times a volley of gun fire (usually shot guns) is often a feature of this period of the death journey. On hearing the firing the people of the neighbouring hamlets at once proceed to the stricken home and join in the wailing. Near relatives salute the dying man with the
If the dying man was a person of some standing, one of similar status would stand forth and farewell him after the manner Maori somewhat in this style: “Farewell! Go forth on your way to the place where mankind originated. Fare out on the broad path of your ancestor Tane-te-waiora, the path that has been trodden by man since the days of the Dawn Maid. Your ancestors and elders there await you that they may greet you. They will guide you by way of the Toi huarewa upward to the bespaced heavens by which Tane ascended to Io the Parent. That you may pass to the Rauroha and enter Rangiatea. There the celestial maids and male attendants of the Great One will welcome and care for you in the enduring spiritual welfare of Io the Parent. Farewell! Farewell, O sir! Farewell!” The speaker would then
The spirits of the dead forebears of the defunct one will come from spirit land to guide his soul back to that far-off region, and after that to the realm that soul selects for its final abode, after it has undergone a purificatory rite in the great edifice Hawaiki-nui, the meeting place of the four way path.
We have seen that a Maori prefers to die out of doors, and not within the cheerless hut of his race, that he may look upon and greet the fair world he is leaving for ever. For this world, the fair earth, is the mother of his race, and ever he loves to greet the grey old Terra Mater who brought him into the world of life.
Much stress is laid upon the
When the last words of a dying chief urged the people to avenge defeats or slights they had suffered, then at the taking of new names that often marked such a death, one of such
The first task performed after the death of a person was the trussing of the body ere it became rigid, for trussed burial in a sitting position was the common mode of disposing of the dead. This ancient practice, that hails from Polynesia, and Asia, and Europe, and early Egypt, seems to have been one of the widest known methods of burial. The old Peruvian practice of drawing the knees of the corpse up to the breast, under the chin, and securing the arms across them over the breast, describes the Maori usage. Hewitt tells us that the practice of mummifying the dead commenced prior to 5,000 B.C., and that it “succeeded the earlier Egyptian custom of the Neolithic Age of burying corpses in the contracted position of an embryo fœtus.” This old Maori custom is occasionally brought to our notice when a coastal sand dune is removed through the agency of wind.
The body being trussed, a superior cloak was secured round it, the face was painted with a preparation of red ochre and oil, the hair was oiled, dressed, and adorned with plumes; ornaments, such as tufts of the white down of the albatross, were suspended from the ears, and so a gala-like aspect of the body was achieved. The body was then placed in a sitting position in the porch of the principal house of the village, which would be intensely
By the side of the body would be laid the weapons of the defunct, and any superior articles he might have possessed. Any person who wished to honour the dead would bring some prized heirloom and lay it by his side. We also hear of the bones of the forbears of the departed being brought from the cave in which they had been placed, and deposited by his side while he was “lying in state.” Articles brought by friends and laid down to honour the dead are called
The lying in state continued for days, often much too long. Eventually the body was taken away and buried, or otherwise disposed of. This act was often performed at night.
As soon as death took place the world-old custom of laceration commenced. This custom was practised all over the islands, a custom that has come down the ages. The cutting was done with flakes of obsidian, which are extremely sharpedged when struck off a core. Long cuts were inflicted on the body and limbs, even the face was sometimes scored. The old women were, it is said, the most enthusiastic exponents of this custom, and presented a very unpleasant appearance with the blood running down their bodies; the practice has been entirely given up. The act of laceration is termed
Ere proceeding to review the mourning customs of the Maori we will scan an old usage that was occasionally practised, though apparently not often. This is the subjecting of the body of a dead person to a drying process, one that was also known at Tahiti, as described by Captain Cook. True mummification, the embalming of a corpse, was unknown, the process being one of drying. The drying of the head only was a common Maori custom.
Mr. Beattie tells us that the custom of drying and preserving bodies was followed to some extent in the South Island, where it was called Pittosporum, was used to close the pores, as a kind of varnish. Another account speaks of a steam oven being made below the body, which was elevated. This would be a steaming process.
An account was given me of the trussing of a body that had been dried. It was done while the body was still warm from the drying process. The legs were bent so that the knees came up against the breast, and the feet against the buttocks. The trussing was done by attaching cords to the knees and ankles, and considerable exertion was required in order to effect it. If the process was delayed too long then it became necessary to fracture the bones of the limbs.
The following account, taken from one of my note books, will serve to illustrate the manner in which the Maori passes through the fragile
A passing friend called in, and the old man said: “Let us
The cutting of hair by near relatives of the dead was essentially a Maori custom. In some cases half the hair was cut short, in others the whole head was so treated. Another mode was to cut it all short save one long lock, termed a
Macropiper excelsum and
During the first days of mourning near relatives of the dead are not supposed to partake of food apparently. They remain seated on either side of the corpse, and some at least will join in the constant wailing, crooning, and doleful chaunting that goes on. I have known these near relatives to so remain by the side of the body until it was taken away for burial, and all through the night one might hear the mournful wailing. This seems to have been the ancient custom. Only under cover of night would they seek food, retiring to some hut to eat in secret, as it were. This procedure has been observed by the writer. It was also observed that it ceased after the burial of the body. To offer food to one of the
A very strange course of action was sometimes adopted at the death of a person. A party of tribesmen would proceed to the scene of mourning, and make an attack on the near relatives of the deceased. Nor was it a case of simulated anger, for broken heads often resulted. This act was a species of
In some parts a human sacrifice sometimes marked the lifting of the èclat to the function and provide a prized dish for the ceremonial feast. The rite of lifting Cordyline palm that springs up again). If you cut down this tree young shoots then spring up from the stump.
Weeping for the dead in private cannot be termed a Maori usage. He preferred to do so in public, and of a verity weeping at such functions comes easy to him. Some of the laments composed for the dead are highly interesting. The following lines are from one composed by a father for his child: “Alas! O child! Where art thou hidden from me? That I might see you as I did of yore, as you came running and laughing to the door. That thy spirit might appear to me as does Puaroa, and the lordly celestial beings of the Orongonui, your elders who adorn the Milky Way. May you pass to the supernal realm and join the sacred company of the Whatukura, leaving me consumed by grief and longing, O child of mine.”
Mr. White has left us a note to the effect that occasionally an image of wood was fashioned to represent a defunct relative, before which the living wept and mourned, while food was offered to the image. This certainly was not a common custom.
Yet another old custom now claims our attention, and that is the process of drying and preserving human heads, known as
In the case of friends, heads of men of standing were sometimes preserved and brought out occasionally to be greeted and wept over by their relatives. When the northern raiders lost a large number of men at Wellington by an epidemic in 1820, they burned the bodies of the dead so that the local natives might not obtain their bones. The heads of some of the more important men were dried and carried back by relatives to their northern homes. Dried heads of friends were exhibited at meetings of the people.
The process to which the heads were subjected was one of steaming. A steaming pit was made as it is for the cooking of food, but a small orifice was left for stream to escape by, and over this the head was placed. All interior matter softened by the hot steam was disposed of by a shaking and probing process. The skin was taken off below the line of decapitation to allow for contraction. The eyes were extracted and the eyelids sewn down. The loose flap of skin was tied underneath. The final process was one of smoke drying. Oil was rubbed on the head several times. The hair was retained, and was dressed and decorated when the head was exposed to the public. Numbers of these dried Maori heads are in museums in Europe and elsewhere. The last case of head drying known to the writer occurred in 1865.
Cenotaphs and other mortuary memorials represented a common custom in Maoriland. Inasmuch as it was unsafe to mark a grave, then the Maoriland. Inasmuch as it was unsafe to mark a grave, then the Maori indulged his penchant for symbols and
Some form of mortuary memorial was often set up, or made, where a person had been killed, or at a spot where the bearers of a sick and dying man had rested as they bore him home to die on his tribal lands, or bearers of bones of the dead had done so. The memorial might be a carved post, or a plain one, or an unworked stone set up with its base in the earth, or merely a hole (
A favoured kind of memorial of this nature, one set up for persons of importance only, was the half of a canoe. When such a man died his canoe would be rendered
Burial grounds are termed
If the dead were buried, or otherwise disposed of outside the limits of the fortified village, then secret disposal was generally necessary. What is generally termed canoe burial was not a safe usage outside the village. This mode con-
In the account of the voyage of the Venus we are told that the French voyagers saw bodies lying at full length and also trussed, on rude stages made of branches. Some of these bodies were covered, others were not. They also saw bodies placed up in trees, and others lying in canoes that had apparently been dragged to the site of the (Laurelia). One such, near Opotiki, contained the bones of some hundreds of persons. Another form was stage burial, the bodies being placed on a platform constructed among the branches of a tree. We hear of these platforms having, in some cases, a form of roof put over them. Occasionally the body was concealed among the masses of epiphyte Astelia growing high up on huge (Metrosideros) trees. The Ngai-Tama clan of Tuhoe have followed the custom of tree burial since the days of their eponymic ancestor, who
Swamp burial was occasionally practised, the method being to tread the body down into a swamp. Sandhill burial was common in some parts where loose formations of sand were found on the coast. This was an easy task, the covering of the body in the face of a sand drift. Shifting sand dunes have exposed many human remains, and implements and ornaments of stone and bone that had been buried with the dead. A famed sand dune burial place for centuries was that known as Opihi, at Whakatane, known in full as “
Graves were but shallow excavations, for the bones were usually exhumed, and a deep pit would retard decomposition. In sitting or crouched burial
Tombs erected at a village were sometimes of a rectangular form. Many of these were seen by early European residents in these isles. They were built of hewn slabs of wood, and were in some cases most elaborately adorned with carved designs. We are told that they often resembled sentry boxes or watch-houses in appearance, and were covered with the single slope roof known as a shed roof. The corpse was placed inside in a sitting position. After some time the bones would be taken out of such places and disposed of. They might be concealed in a tree, or cave, or possibly put into a small box-like, hut-shaped receptacle perched on a tall post erected within the village, and called a
House burial seems to have been occasionally practised by the Maori. The Rev. Wohlers speaks of it as occurring in the South Island. Presumably the house would become
The singular coffins found in caves north of Auckland seem to have been peculiar to that district. The carved designs on them are often dissimilar to those employed in other parts and in later times. These receptacles were made to contain exhumed bones, not bodies, and are fine examples of old stone tool work. Curiously enough they have only come to light of late years, though in the late Mr.
In a few cases trussed bodies of the dead, occasionally a dried body, were conveyed to a cave and placed in a sitting position on a block of stone therein. Such bodies would be enveloped in a cloak of Phormium fibre. In at least some cases a formula was recited by the officiating
With regard to such cases as the above, whenever it was desired to consign another corpse, or bones of the dead, to that cave, it would be necessary for a priest of established toma
tupapaku (caves of the dead). Common persons would be buried in a sand dune or elsewhere.
A statement was once made to me of which I have never noted any proof. We know that occasionally certain devices were painted with red ochre on the exhumed skulls placed in a cave. Thus the
Supposing that a superior house was being built, and that one of the carved figures thereof was named after a forbear whose last resting place bore such a mark as described above, then such mark would probably be carved on the image in the house. It might be carved in the space between the legs of the figure.
Again, children were taught many things in a manner truly Maori. We will suppose that a child's father has died and that he sits in the cave of the dead with his identification mark on his stone seat. That child must be taught that his father's remains are so marked. If the child chances to be unruly, or in the way, an elder will cry out in manner testy: “Ha! Go away! Stand off! The mark of your father is a
When placing remains of the dead in caves or elsewhere, prized articles were sometimes placed with them, such as imple-
We have known cases in which, when a child died, its toys were placed with the body in the grave or elsewhere. Memory recalls a case in which a young girl died, and, when buried, her prized possession, a brooch formed of a crown piece, was placed on her body. Her sister then abandoned her name, and took that of Karauna, the Maori rendering of “crown.” When the grandfather of this child died, he left a manuscript book in which was written much old tribal lore; this book was placed in the grave by his son. Rude litters
The cave on Kapiti Island, known as Wharekohu, was a famed burial cave, and the remains of many persons of rank were deposited there, including those of
Sir John Evans tells us that cases of sitting burial have been noted in foundations of Babylon, and that it was practised in Europe, Africa and America. The Assyrians and Guanches are credited with the custom in “Man Before Metals.”
Sea burial was apparently but little practised by the Maori. Banks mentions it as noted at Queen Charlotte Sound during Cook's first voyage.
Cremation was never a common or universal custom with the Maori. It was practised in some areas where no suitable
Persons who handled bodies of the dead were extremely
A form of the Tira ora rite seems to have been sometimes performed after the burial of a person. The
The student of old-time Maori life marvels at the excesses committed by natives in the past days of the
We must now review the subject of exhumation. The
An average of many periods given by natives places the time of exhumation at about four years after burial. These disinterring functions were held periodically, and so the duration of the period of burial would differ considerably. As the function took place at irregular intervals some bodies might have been buried for seven or eight years, and others for but one or two. Men who were employed to disentomb the remains were, of course, under heavy
Every act of exhumation, every stage of the process of recovery, seems to have called for its own special ritual formula, and the officiating
In one of these functions that came under my own observation five men were engaged in disinterring the bones, under the supervision of an expert. As the delvers took out the bones they were wiped with bunches of grass, and the expert arranged the remains of each body in separate heaps. The expert certainly knew his work, and would occasionally remark that such a bone of a particular body was lacking, and he would bid the digger seek it. The task was a lengthy one, for many remains had to be recovered. The work continued for some days. Hence, when the delvers ceased work in the evening, or to partake of a meal, they had to strip and immerse their bodies in the adjacent river, while the expert recited the
The bones of each body were enveloped in a cloth. In former times a Phormium cloak or cape was used as a covering, and placed on an elevated platform termed the
At another exhumation witnessed the bodies had been buried within the limits of the village. The people assembled to view the proceedings, but remained at some distance from the graves. As each skull was taken out, the exhumer held it up to the view of the onlookers, when a wailing cry would be heard as they greeted the remains of their dead relative.
In the ceremonial feast that pertained to the task of exhumation the food was, as usual in such cases, cooked in different lots, as for persons of different standing and different degrees or phases of
Ere the feast opens the priest performs the Whakau rite. He takes a small portion of the food and offers it to the gods, so that they may give force to his ritual formulæ. He then takes another small portion and holds it over the collected supplies of food, and recites the Whakau formula, or charm. He then lifts the fragment of food to his mouth and intones another such
Caves in which the bones of the dead were deposited were often situated in rough forest-clad country, on high ranges, or on rugged cliffs. Often such places were concealed by brush or tree growth. In some cases men gained access to them from the head of a cliff by the aid of a rope. Such a cave at Rua-tahuna was gained only by ascending a tree and laying poles from its branches to the mouth of the cave. Many such caves of the dead have been found by bush-fellers and others. In tree burial a large hollow tree, showing no external opening in its lower part, but an aperture high up, was preferred, through which the bones could be thrust, to fall down the hollow interior of the trunk.
The bearers carried the remains wrapped up in separate parcels. A
In some cases some of the teeth were extracted from the skull and worn by relatives as pendants, sometimes formed into a necklace. A brief note reminds me that when a
An account of exhumation given by an east coast native presents a few features of interest. It refers to exhumers immersing their bodies in water prior to commencing their task, while some form of ritual was recited over them. The exhumers discarded their garments while disinterring the bones, and the wooden spade used for the purpose was called a
At such a time gifts
The following is a portion of an address to the remains of a man who had been buried in the territory of another tribe or clan, delivered by a member of that tribe. He had exhumed the remains and had escorted them back to the home of the defunct one: “Farewell, O sir! I have returned you to your people, to your very home. Farewell. Go to your ancestors, to your elders, who will welcome you. Fare on your way, the way by which your ancestor ascended to the bespaced heavens. Pass through the entrance to the supernal heaven. Enter within the Rauroha, where the Whatukura and the celestial maids will welcome you within Rangiatea, that you may attain everlasting spiritual welfare, that you may attain peace.”
The relatives of the dead, in a series of flowery speeches, then thanked the late speaker for his care of their dead, for his conveying the remains to the village home, for gifts he had brought in honour of the dead. Gifts were then presented to the visiting chief, and he and his party returned to their home. When the bones were finally disposed of in a cave they might be placed on a flat stone, which was called a
The expression Veronica growing on the house wall should move abroad?). The following are other old sayings pertaining to death:—
“
“
“Cordyline palm, which, when cut down, grows again from the stump.
“
The thought grows that we have tarried full long in the shadow of death. We have seen man the neolith struck down by Maiki-nui, and fall to the dread arts of Whiro. We have trussed his soulless body, and laid him in the breast of the Earth Mother whose affection for her stricken offspring never wanes. We have recovered his remains, and, with solemn ritual, have laid them to rest for ever. As the men of old said: “Cease wailing; to-morrow shall we mourn again; it is not the mourning of the ocean, which ever moans.” For of a verity that is the
The Whare tapere and its classified arts—Patrons of the Arts of Pleasure—Amusements an important element in social life—Remarks by early writers—The element of contest—Games much more numerous than mere pastimes—Many games viewed as useful exercises—School of arms—Wrestling—Boxing—Jumping—Foot races—
We are now about to enter the door of the Whare tapere to indulge in what the Maori calls
The lore of the Whare tapere may be classified for descriptive purposes as follows:—
In Maori myth the arts of pleasure are attributed to certain mythical beings, who are credited with having introduced all forms of games and pastimes. Thus, among some tribes, they are all referred to Raukata-uri and Raukata-mea; among others to Takataka-putea and Marere-o-tonga; while the Ngati-Porou folk assign them to Ruhanui. We hear the terms
Inasmuch as the Maori possessed no form of written literature, and was, moreover, much given to social pleasures, it follows that all forms of amusement were keenly appreciated by him. Young folk were wont to meet in one of the larger houses of a hamlet during the evening, especially in winter time and during stormy weather, and there pass the time in story telling, singing, posture dances, games, contests and pastimes. A great mass of folk lore was at their service, and the songs of these folk are as sands on the smooth breast of Hine-one.
The Maori did not allow his love of pleasure to lure him from duties and labours, but simply devoted his leisure time to amusements. He had no statutory half-holiday or work-free saints' days to set aside as playing time. Hence doubtless the remark made by an early writer (Polack) on the lack of definite arrangements in regard to games. Care-free
According to a number of early writers the incoming missionaries discountenanced the old native games and pastimes, and very few of them are practised nowadays. One form that has survived is the posture dance.
Angas, a traveller in the North Island in the “forties” of last century, speaks of “the merry and interesting children” whom he saw in native hamlets. He mentions their flying kites, dart throwing, sailing toy canoes formed of Phormium leaves, and playing cats cradle, and again remarks that “the children are cheerful and lively little creatures, full of vivacity and intelligence.” The Rev.
The expression, Whare tapere, is replaced in some districts by the term Whare rehia, or Whare ngahau, and at Taranaki by Whare pakimairo. In Polynesia the name of Whare karioi was employed in some islands. When folk proposed to spend an evening in social pleasure, one or more fires of hardwood,
The Maori did not practise any form of gambling, either in connection with games or otherwise, though he endeavoured to ensure success in even friendly contests by reciting charms. Inasmuch as the upper garment of the natives, a cape or cloak, did not lend itself to vigorous action of the arms, it was discarded on many occasions, as when using tools in working, or playing games that called for free action of the arms. A marked feature of Maori life was the encouragement of all recreations and contests that made for agility, quickness of eye and movement in boys and young men. All these were viewed by elders as military exercises, or as an excellent training therefor.
As a matter of fact there was but a limited number of true pastimes indulged in by natives, and most of these were confined to children. The element of contest entered into most forms of recreation, hence they were games. Swimming, running, jumping, etc., may be performed merely as pastimes, or as games, and yet again as exercises. The older folk were wise enough not to stress too much the fact that such exercises served a useful end, but simply encouraged boys and youths to practise them. Ever the elders bore in mind, however, the absolute necessity of every lad being so trained as to develop into an active, capable fighting man. Girls were encouraged in such recreational performances as tended to endow them with grace of action, as in posture dancing.
To play is expressed by the word
We come now to the first division of our subject, the arts of the Whare tapere, including what may be termed the school of arms, and athletic games that were looked upon as extremely useful training for the coming fighting men of the
Practising the use of weapons was really begun at a very tender age, when boys used harmless objects, such as reeds and “flax sticks” (flower stems of Phormium tenax) in practising points and guards of spear fighting. Youths of a more advanced age took up such exercises in a more serious manner. They were under the supervision of the older men, and were taught the use of various weapons, thrusting and striking, one handed and two handed. Above all were they trained in the art of
Old natives of long gone years informed me that boys were, in former times, encouraged to engage in what we may term semi-sham fights. Indeed, early and constant training of such a nature was absolutely necessary to the welfare and survival of a tribe. Thus parents would encourage their boys to divide into two groups and assail each other, their light reeds being used as both striking and thrusting weapons. Not infrequently wounds were inflicted even with these light articles, as when used as a thrusting spear is. Then the boys might be roused to anger, and so cast away their light implements, and, procuring stones, engage in a more dangerous contest. This would bring the parents on the scene, who would interfere on behalf of their children. It sometimes occurred that the elders became excited and quarrelled among themselves, the matter ending in a general affray. Lives were occasionally lost in such encounters.
The throwing of light reed darts was one of the items of the exercises, and this rendered youths dexterous in avoiding such missiles, and so more dangerous ones in later years. The flower stems of the (Arundo conspicua) were used by boys in this exercise, and so it was termed (Aristotelia) was used for the purpose. A player was often allowed to use a short stick to parry the darts. The word
Wrestling was a fairly common practice in former times, and is described by the terms
When a man was about to engage in a bout of wrestling, he would expectorate into his hand, close the hand and repeat a charm, the effect of which was believed to be the acquisition of additional strength in the coming contest. He then recited another that was supposed to weaken his opponent. The following are some terms employed in connection with wrestling:—
Boxing was not practised much, apparently, by the Maori. The terms
Jumping
As in all other lands, foot races were a form of sport, and are alluded to as
The game termed
The sticks used in this game were light rods, two to three feet in length. Thomson tells us that the game was played by twenty on each side, but any number from two upwards could play at it, though seldom did less than four join in it. The two sides or series of players sat opposite each other, and the sticks were thrown from one side to the other, and dexterously caught. Apparently there were two methods of playing, one in which each player was provided with a rod, and another in which four rods were used by a large number of players. The rods were termed
The rods in this case were stout ones, and only 22 inches in length. The words of the above ditty contain no manner of reference to the game: “The moon it was that saw you well; I saw but in my dreams. I thought'twas Tiritiri-matangi; not so, 'twas Tiri rau rewai.”
The Tuhoe folk state that the
The game called mako (Aristotelia), about three feet in length. These were adorned with a spiral design in black and white, called
This exercise was excellent training for youths who, in a few brief years, would have to face deadlier weapons in inter-tribal fighting. The time song collected is a hopeless task to the would-be translator. It is the
The sling was employed as a weapon in Polynesia, but, curious to relate, we have no reliable evidence as to its use in New Zealand. These remarks apply to the sling used for casting stones. Fashioned sling stones are found in Polynesia, and a few have been discovered at Sunday Island, only about 600 miles from the North Island of New Zealand, yet they are not found here. Inasmuch as the Polynesian ancestors of the Maori came from isles where the stone sling was used, it is passing strange if its use was not introduced into these isles. It is not mentioned in tradition, though native weapons are often alluded to in old narratives. The whip used for throwing spears was called a
The word
The whip-thrown spear (
Stone throwing by hand was, of course, a practice of boys, and we shall encounter it again when we lift the war trail. A native often alludes to a stone-throwing contest as
Equally, of course, climbing was a favoured pastime or contest among boys. Apart from branched trees, which were numerous enough in most parts of these isles, occasionally a stout ricker, as of white pine, was procured and set up as a climbing pole. The straight, branchless ricker was an excellent “swarming” pole; lads and young men would climb it both with and without the help of a foot loop (
The diversions of swimming, diving, surf-riding, the
The side stroke i.e., head first, but by simply jumping from a height and descending feet first into the water. This exercise is termed
A much-favoured pastime among young folk when in the water is that of ducking each other below the surface; it is known as
When traversing high-lying country with natives, the writer has often admired the way in which they crossed flooded and swift torrents. They make no attempt to swim, but simply walk across on a down stream slant, so that the
We will now discourse a while on the subject of the
In some cases these swings were erected near the edge of a precipice, so that the flying swingers whirled out from the cliff head over space. The danger added a zest to the pastime. The above-mentioned writer refers to a ten-rope swing that he saw erected at a social meeting; the pole was painted with red ochre and decorated with feathers. He also wrote: “I once saw a Maori sent spinning through the air from a sixty-foot
A favoured site for these swings was on a bank overhanging deep water, so that when the players swung out over the water they could release their grip on the rope and drop feet first into it. Songs were sung while whirling round on the swings. The following is a specimen one:—
The Tuhoe folk describe a loose, revolving wooden cap on the top of the post to which the ropes were attached. They had ropes of different lengths so that all players could advance abreast instead of following each other. The place of honour was on the outer and longest rope, where the greatest speed was demanded. In many cases these swings had special names assigned them.
The writer had pointed out to him the sites of two such swings of former days near one of his camps in the Ruatahuna district. The native then remarked in a casual manner: “They were erected in order to avenge the death of our people at Māna-tēpā.” Now this was just such a hint as the enthusiastic collector is ever listening for. I said to the old warrior, who had fought against us at Orakau and elsewhere: “
All forms of canoeing were appreciated by the Maori, and the lack of suitable waters in the vicinity of a hamlet meant the loss of such pleasures to young folk. Small canoes were managed by quite young children. In later years, when old enough to take part in contests, they already knew how to handle the paddle with dexterity. Both paddling and sailing contests were held, principally the former, and these races were termed
Another form of canoeing was that of surf riding in small canoes termed
In this exercise the surf rider swam out past the line of breakers, diving under them as he proceeded, and taking his surf board with him. Then, selecting a roller, he threw himself on the surf board, grasping the fore end thereof with his hands, and so rode racing shoreward on the roller. Sometimes a rider dispensed with the board, and rode in with his arms outstretched before him. Young women sometimes joined in this sport, and an old surf rider informed me that,
The small canoes used in surf riding would contain from one to three persons. The canoe was so manipulated as to ride a certain part of the roller, otherwise a capsize would ensue. This surf riding in its three forms was styled
Surf riding was practised throughout Polynesia. At Tahiti it was called
The Maori ever strove so to train young folk as to render them fearless in water, confident in their own powers to swim flooded rivers, and survive the perils of mishaps to canoes. The writer has seen some very remarkable performances by natives in the way of crossing raging floods in our swift and dangerous rivers, as when Tawera swam a twenty chain flood in the Land of Awa, and Eruera earned a £20 cheque by swimming the raging Whakatane to save stock on the left bank.
We begin this series with the game of jackstones, or knucklebones, of world-wide fame. In divers districts this game is known as
In an east coast form of the game five stones are used. Four of these are placed at the corners of a square. The player throws the one stone retained in his hand up in the air, snatches at stone No. 1 and places it in the centre of the square, then catches the descending stone, all with his right
In the second round the same acts are repeated, save that the four stones are snatched up in twos instead of singly. This is more difficult than the first round because the four stones are separated. The third round, called
Another informant gives
The game differs somewhat as in different districts, and names also differ, but the above is a fair sample of the differing modes of procedure. In some places both hands enter into the catching. In the final act of the Tuhoe form of the game, wherein grouped stones touching each other are snatched up one by one, the player may not cause those left to move, or he loses the round.
This game is called
Dart throwing was another widespread diversion in the Pacific. The dart is called Pteris aquilina). This plant grows in a most luxuriant manner in some favourable situations, and the fronds are seen up to eighteen feet in length.
The dart was about three feet in length, and round one end of it was wound a narrow strip of green Phormium leaf in such a manner as to form a knob like a Turk's head knot; this was the
Mr. White mentions that a player took a short run to the base line ere casting his dart. It required much practice to enable a person to so cast the dart that it would just graze the mound and ascend in its flight therefrom. He whose dart carried the furthest won the game. These contests were very popular in Maoriland, and matches were arranged between different villages.
Prior to casting his dart a player would expectorate upon it and repeat a charm to enable him to make a good cast, such as the following: “Fly forward, my dart, like a meteor in the heavens. A dart of Tuhuruhuru cannot be passed. Fly directly forward, arise and descend beyond yon mountain range. May this dart be lucky.” Another form is
(My dart, let man be assailed by you. Fly beyond the ranges. Assail man and gain success.)
Among the Tuhoe folk the first player to win ten rounds won the game, which was thus a prolonged one. As a player won his first round he called out: “
The dart described above enters into Maori narrative and myth in a very remarkable manner. In many quaint old legends and folk tales we are told of missing persons, and also of far-off unknown places, being located by means of the use of magic darts. In each case the hero in his quest cast his dart, which would fly through space for many miles, and then followed it up until he found it, when he would again cast it, and so on until it led him to his objective. It was in this manner that a hero of old found the prized greenstone of the South Island.
Here is a story of one of these quests with a magic dart. In days of old there dwelt on the rugged coast line north of Taranaki one Ngarue, a famed chief, with his equally famed wife Uru. Certain differences with his wife's folk led Ngarue to abandon his home and seek another in the south, where Taranaki looks down eight thousand feet on the fair plains below. As he left he said to his wife: “Should our child be a son, rear him carefully, and, when he attains manhood, let him seek me by means of the magic dart. Here is the charm he must repeat over it:—
Let him cast and re-cast his dart, and follow it ever, so shall we meet again. And now, O my breast clinging companion, farewell. Shame gnaws at my heart like unto the gnawing of the Sea Maid into the flanks of the Earth Mother. It is like the fire of Mahuika burning within me, even my affection for you pales before it. Farewell! Abide in your home. Think not of me, though I will ever greet the mist that hangs
For many years Tioroa had whitened the summit of great Taranaki (Mt. Egmont), throughout many years did Hine-raumati, the Summer Maid, banish Tioroa to the realm of Parawera-nui in the frigid south. And then came the son to seek the father he had never seen. As he left his mother, he said: “Grieve not for me, but look for the gleam of Venus in the heavens on the third night. If not seen, you will know that I have found my father. If not seen, then know that I have been struck down by the hand of man or by Maiki-nui. Then do you cast the gleam of the solar halo into the heavens, as a greeting to me in the spirit world.” Then the son left her and went his way where Hine-moana lashes the rugged cliffs of the western sea. But his mother yet remained on the hill-top when Hine-ahiahi, the Evening Maid, appeared. For of a truth had she now died two deaths.
On reaching Tirau her son found the dart he had cast from his home, and again he cast it. At Mokau he again found it, and at Pari-ninihi, and at Rautahi-o-te-huia, hard by Onaeroa. Here he cast his magic dart for the last time, for this time it fell before the house of Ngarue, at Waitara.
Ngarue sat in the porch of Huirua, his own house, when he saw the dart descend and stick quivering in the earth before him. His companions said: “What can be the origin of this dart?” And one replied: “To my mind it is a supernatural object.” Even so arose certain priests to avert any evil influences possessed by that strange dart. It was then that Ngarue recognised his own magic dart that he had left with his wife long years before, and he knew that a son of his was coming to seek him.
Preparations were now made to receive the coming guests. The dart was deposited at the sacred
Ngarue now knew the name of his son. “Welcome! Here am I, your parent, lost unto you even as the
So ends this quaint story, an historical tradition encrusted with myth. It contains the element of the marvellous beloved of uncultured man.
There are, or were, a number of different forms of this game. In some cases both players made the same movements, ten in all, and these movements were always the same. But in another mode of playing one player made a movement that the other had to imitate so quickly that the two seemed almost simultaneous. The movements consist of bringing the hands together in different ways. The first to win ten of these contests of ten movements each is the winner. In one form of the game, when a player has won a round, he keeps repeating: “
On parts of the east coast of the North Island the game differs from the Bay of Plenty and southern forms, both as to movements and cry, the word “
“
“
“
“
“
“
“
“
“
“
This completes the round. The initial words
In an east coast form of the game the players made different movements. If No. 2 makes the same motion as No. 1 he is “out.” In this case the players rapidly repeated the following words:—
This recitation was repeated throughout the continuance of the round.
Another form seen at Gisborne, at the big native meeting held to welcome the return of the Maori battalion from France, was much the same, but the game was called
This was repeated nine times save that the numeral was altered.
The string game of Cats Cradle, known as
As in other lands, fanciful names are assigned to the different designs, though often one fails to see much resemblance to the object named; the eye of faith is often necessary. Some figures are named after incidents described in native myths, and some of our local figures are met with in far lands. Short rhythmical jingles are repeated in connection with some forms. Females are said to have been extremely dexterous at the game, and in old days contests were common. Hands, feet and teeth were brough into service in forming some figures, and it took several persons to set up some intricate ones.
Each figure had its own special name, and the writer obtained the names of eighteen figures from the Tuhoe tribe, and a number of others from various tribes. Some figures are known far and wide, though names differ as among different tribes. One figure shows the Canoe of Tama-rereti of Maori myth, which is also the name of the Tail of the Scorpion in their star lore. Another shows the rays of Venus, another the Mt. Hikurangi of native tradition, another
Phormium or Cordyline leaf formed into a running noose at one end. The other end of the leaf strip was wound round the forefinger, and the noose end held between the outstretched forefinger and thumb. Each player tried to catch the finger of his opponent in his noose by making rapid passes or darts with his hand.
Above all forms of recreation did the
In this form of amusement the Maori assuredly appears to advantage, on account of the facility with which he keeps time with voice, limbs and body. The rhythmical movements of these so-called dances, with that of the lilting song, or roaring chorus, acts as a stimulant on a native, and he throws himself into a
These posture dances were performed, not only as an ordinary diversion, but also entered into many ceremonial functions. They formed a prominent feature in the reception of guests, and such occasions were often marked by specially composed songs and genuflections. The best performers were selected for such public exhibitions; they would be adorned with head ornaments and face painting. The upper part of
Concerning the war dance Earle wrote nearly a hundred years ago: “It was conducted with so much fury … that at length I became quite horrified, and for some time could not divest myself of the feeling that our visitors were playing false, so closely did this mock combat resemble a real one. The dreadful noises, the screeching of the women, and the menacing gestures … were so calculated to inspire terror, that stouter hearts than mine might have felt fear.” Such is the Maori war dance, and it is doubtful if any people can possibly look more fiendish than the Maori does at such a time. Certainly none could excel him in the protruding of tongues and the art of
The posture dances of a milder nature are pleasing performances, so admirably do the actors keep time in the rapid, rhythmical movements, while the accompanying chaunt is rendered with a lilt that is quite attractive. As Dr. Thomson observed of certain forms of
A
The Maori folk have a habit of composing songs and Reception of native visitors.
Reception of Government officials.
An insulting remark made by a tribesman.
Ill-treatment of a woman married to a member of another tribe.
A faithless wife.
A trivial oversight in apportioning food supplies.
Ridiculing a bush native who tried to eat a cake of scented soap.
And so on; the list might be greatly lengthened.
Some
In these times the
An east coast native gave the following list of names of these posture dances—
In No. 1 of these exercises the performers are arranged in the form of a square, all ranks facing in the same direction. No. 2 is marked by certain leg movements not met with in other forms. In No. 3 the players usually stand in two ranks. In No. 4 they form in a square facing four ways. In No. 5 all kneel down. No. 6 is accompanied by a song of what may perhaps be termed a mild nature, and movements are not so quick and energetic as in most others. No. 8 was performed as a divinatory exercise by persons grouped in the form of a wedge, but in open order, and not in arranged ranks. The object was to divine the fate of some expedition about to set forth. This ceremonial dance might also be termed a
The
The
The Maori had no form of what we understand as dancing, hence we describe his performances as posture dancing. In its more vigorous forms it might be described as a strenuous exercise, so energetic and violent are the motions of arms, legs and body. On the other hand some of those performed by well-trained young women were marked by grace of action and well-rendered songs. Children had their simple forms of this diversion, and were much given to practising them.
To ascertain the origin of posture dancing, as explained in native myth, we must await the coming of Hine-raumati, the Summer Maid. When that fair maid arrives you will see, on calm, warm days, a curious quivering appearance in the air. Know then that you are gazing at the Haka of Tane-rore, he who was born of the Summer Maid, and claims Ra, the sun, as his male parent. The phenomenon is also known as the Dancing of the Summer Maid, and it is personified in Parearohi, who appears in the fifth month, and who mated with Rehua, who represents the heat of summer.
The peculiar form of posture dance performed during mourning ceremonies for the dead is termed a
The rendering of the songs, if this term be not a misnomer, differed in these performances. In some cases the composition is rendered by the whole of the performers; in others a fugleman delivers a line, or several lines, when the company joins in and carries it through. Again, the fugleman may deliver a line, when the company renders a refrain, this being repeated to the end. The company performs the so-called dance as they sing.
In some cases the fugleman commences with the cry: “
The following is a specimen of these songs pertaining to posture dances:—
As observed by the writer, this was a well-practised and effective exercise, the refrain having a telling swing.
The song of a
This singular effusion compares the Tuhoe folk to a swarm of frogs invading Te Whaiti. The second and fourth lines are supposed to represent the croaking of frogs, an introduced creature that had lately reached the district, and which by the natives was termed a fish poraka
pene a te Komihana
(The pen of the Commissioner goes
This
The following
In all cases an expert person was selected as a
The
The so-called ball now used is merely a leaf of bulrush folded up, and is by no means of a spherical form, which the old-time Phormium fibre, and good specimens were adorned with
This ball game was played in both sitting and standing positions, the string being held in one hand and struck with the other, but there are many different ways of manipulating it, and it is constantly being twirled. A fine ball adorned with hair as described was called a
An old
The Maori was given to expressing his feelings in song and so-called dancing. To some extent he practised mimetic dancing; in some of his modern posture dances we note something of pantomimic drama. The return of some of the heavenly bodies was greeted with a
The game of
It is well known that a form of draughts was known to the Hawaiians when the early missionaries reached their group; it was called
The game under discussion is often referred to as
An eight-pointed star represents the board used in the game of
A sample game dictated by a native was as follows:—To A was assigned the points 1, 2, 3, and 4, and to B the other four. B commences. He cannot move 6 or 7 because a stalemate would result; they are both
It is not probable that this game was derived from our introduced game of draughts when the latter was so keenly
appreciated. One can see no reason for altering the design of the board, and discarding the taking and crowning of men. Query: Can it have been introduced by early voyagers, and does any game of other lands resemble the
The term
Riddles, termed
Playing upon words was another form of amusement among young folk. They had also a mode of communication by means of signs made with the fingers, each sign representing a word. This comes under the heading of
Story telling was, of course, much favoured, as it ever must be among an unlettered folk. Young children had their simple recitals, handed down the centuries. Youths and maidens had their folk tales, myths and traditions. Their elders were always ready to correct any errors. It is interesting to note how old folk enter into youthful pastimes and other pleasures. I have seen old, grey-headed men rise and join the ranks of posture dancing persons. Many of the simple stories were instructive in some way, and contained some sort of lesson. As a story teller the Maori cannot be excelled; it is a keen pleasure to listen to him. Samples of their tales have already been given.
It is not possible to so separate the arts of the Whare tapere as to assign certain games to children and others to adults, for a great number were practised by both. Thus in the following list kite flying was indulged in by men advanced in years, while stilt walking and a few others were patronised by young men and women. Still they were also the diversions of children.
Kites seem to have been known far and wide across the Pacific, even to the shores of Asia in the far west. In this vast area the flying of kites, as practised in former times, and to some extent even now, bears three aspects. They were flown as a recreation, in connection with an everyday economic pursuit, and ceremonially. We shall deal with the first and third phases as pertaining to Maori ethnography. As to the second, the reader must turn to works on Melanesia and New Guinea for an account of the use of kites in sea fishing.
The names applied to flying kites by the Maori are
Kite flying was a favoured pastime among children, but it was also practised by adults, who occasionally held contests in which kites of superior make were used. Simpler, quickly-made ones were fashioned from bulrushes, etc., for the use of children. In the case of superior specimens kites were sometimes assigned special names. Charms were repeated in order to cause the kites to rise well. The ordinary birdlike form resembled the Chinese kite. From native tradition we learn that quite elderly men indulged in the pursuit of kite flying. The expression
The form of kite termed Typha, to a frame work of light rods.
The
When flying superior kites we are told that the manipulator was ever careful to slack the line out through his right hand; to act otherwise would be unlucky.
A peculiar feature of the kites so fashioned as to resemble a bird in form was that the head, at least in many cases, by no means resembled that of a bird, but was made in the form of a man's head, having the features marked on both sides. The wings were long and the legs short. Some were so constructed that the wings flapped when the kite was flown. Long dog's hair was sometimes affixed to the head, and feather decorations to the body and wings. The cord was secured in the middle of the kite. Large specimens, having a wing spread of about fifteen feet, are said to have been sometimes made, and two men were employed in the flying of such large ones. The leaves of Mariscus ustulatus, a sedge, and of Typha augustifolia, were the covering materials commonly employed.
The very large kites were held by two men, one at each wing Phormium fibre were rolled together to form a
Bunches of cockle shells
When the
A triangular kite made by the Tuhoe folk shows the frame composed of culms of Arundo conspicua, three of which are arranged as ribs with the plumes (panicles) downward. This form was flown with the apex uppermost. An extra culm is attached to the central rib, with its plume uppermost. A small wooden rod lashed across the ribs serves to brace the frame. Across this frame the leaves of the bulrush are neatly laced to the ribs. Small bunches of feathers are attached to the apex and to the ends of a bracing rod at the base. The cord was attached to the middle rib of this form. This kite had no long tail, and very few native kites did possess such an appendage, as far as can be learned.
The Arundo at the top helped to steady the kite. Bunches of feathers were also attached at the sides. The outer part of the frame of the oval form was a slender rod bent to the desired shape and braced with light crosspieces. The
A well-known story of the Turanga district tells of the flying of a kite in order to discover the perpetrators of a murder that had been committed. That kite hovered over a fortified village name Te Upoko o Taraia, at Lake Repongaere, hence a force was despatched to attack the place. Life was assuredly uncertain in Maoriland in the palmy days of yore.
In one form of kite the human-like head was a hollow structure, and shells were placed in it to produce a rattling sound.
A curious kite story was related to the writer by Te Awanui of Omarumutu. In days of old a man became jealous of his wife, and so marooned her on an island, possibly one of the isles in the Bay of Plenty. After a tedious sojourn on the isle she conceived the idea of sending a token to her friends per medium of a kite. Having fashioned the kite she awaited a day on which the wind should blow in the direction of the home of her own folk. That day having arrived, she attached to the kite a certain pendant worn by her, allowed the kite to rise to a considerable height, and then released the cord. The kite was seen by her relatives, and a long search ended in the finding of the hapless maroon. The end of the episode is said to have been a pleasant one for her, but not quite so pleasing to the husband.
A good specimen of the bird form of kite is preserved in the Auckland Museum. Its width across the wings is about twelve feet; these wings are about 14 inches in width in the middle of the kite, and about five inches at their extremities. The framework is of rods and the covering of bulrush leaves. Each diminutive leg terminates in four claws. The features of the human-like head are prominent, and some feathers are attached to the head.
A small, simple form of kite, such as were made for children, comes from the Ngapuhi district. It is of a cruciform shape, a form having two short rectangular wings. The frame is covered with dried leaves of Mariscus ustulatus. This little specimen is but fourteen inches high and eleven inches wide. A number of pieces of a fine rush are inserted in the two wings and project outwards; possibly these are necessary for balancing purposes.
A triangular form of kite made by the Matatua folk in former times had two rectangular projections on either side of it, but no specimen is met with in any museum.
Kites of the Cook Group were oval, lozenge shaped, and another form with wing extensions. Two forms had bunches
Stilts are known as
A small piece of plank was used by native children as a toboggan. It was termed a holua of the Hawaiian Isles, a term also applied to a toboggan. The term
The slide ways were carefully formed so as to present a fair surface, and certain songs or recitals were uttered by riders as they descended the runway. Some sleds had a piece of cord attached to serve as a hand grip. Children not possessed of a plank Cordyline forming an excellent seat. The child held the butt between his legs, which he then raised from the ground and so slid merrily away.
The Hawaiian holua was a proper sled with two runners of considerable length, resembling ski. The riders lay at full length.
The
A favoured aspect for a
See-saw, called
Both whip tops and humming tops were known to the Maori youth, but he knew nought of the peg top. An area of ground of fair surface where this pastime or game was prac-
The whip Phormium leaf to a handle, and this whip was employed to set the top spinning, being wound round it and then manipulated as our boys set up a whip top.
Top spinning was often, perhaps usually, a contest so far as whip tops were concerned. Two modes of playing have been explained. One of these consisted of whipping the tops over hurdles, or a series of artificial mounds called
Tops were sometimes adorned by having small pieces of brightly coloured Haliotis shell countersunk in them. There are several old stone tops in our museums; they must have been somewhat cumbrous to manipulate.
The ordinary form of
Tops were sometimes given special names, those of ancestors, for example; some were carved in various designs, or adorned with pieces of shell. Tops were usually made from pieces of
The humming tops fashioned from gourds were as a rule small size gourds, down through the middle of which a small rod was thrust and so secured as to project at both ends. One of these protruding ends served as a spinning point, and round the other, the upper one, the spinning cord was wound. One or two holes were pierced in the sides of the gourd to produce a humming sound. Occasionally gourds of large size were used, and it required two persons to spin one of these.
We here pause in order to discuss the question of how kings are made. Some time prior to the outbreak of the fighting with Europeans in the Waikato district, a large meeting of native tribes took place in that region in order to elect a Maori “king.” The question to be settled was—which tribe should have the honour of electing one of their tribesmen as a king for the island. Here some genius proposed that the representatives of each tribe should make a humming top, and that all these tops should be spun in a contest. The tribe whose top made the loudest noise was to elect a king for the island. Podocarpus), a wood much used for such purposes. But the wily Waikato made a large gourd top, which they named
These words scarcely seem applicable for they read: Resound, O Ketirera; sound gently, lest ye be heard. At the word “
The wailing sound made by humming tops has by the Maori always been compared to the sound of wailing for the dead. Here must be explained one of the singular customs of a singular people. For top spinning entered into mourning ceremonial in Maoriland. During such ceremonies a number of humming tops were repeatedly spun simultaneously with the chaunting of a specially-composed song. Songs sung to the spinning of tops are termed
A fugitive note refers to ceremonial top spinning in some church in Paris, but particulars and date are unknown. It was met with in Hone's (?) Every Day Book, Vol. I.
Hoops
So far as can be ascertained the hoop was thrown so as to roll across the intervening space between the players, and driven or beaten back by the other side. The hoop used seems to have been a small one; they were formed of pieces of the stem of a climbing plant.
I am not quite satisfied about the diversion called
A childish pastime was the breath-holding competition, known as
karetu ( Hierochloe redolens). This latter served to balance the large leaf, which, by an adroit cast, was launched through the air. If well balanced and cast the leaf descended very gradually, and so would float through the air for a considerable distance. Simple charms were recited to cause a good flight. It sometimes occurred that grave men cast the
A curious usage, termed
Many simple amusements were formerly practised by native children. They raced diminutive, fragile canoes fashioned from leaves of Phormium tenax, and provided with sails. They used
The
In the Tauranga district a number of stone bowls have been discovered, of the use of which the local natives are ignorant. Their average diameter is five and a quarter inches, and the average thickness nearly three inches; they
A childish pastime that I have watched small folk enjoying in long gone years was called
As the repeats the last line, “go to your home,” he thrusts the uppermost hand away. The child whose hand has been so repelled now holds it so that the index finger touches his breast. This act is repeated until all the piled hands have been so disposed of, and each child stands with his or her hands against their respective breasts. No. 1 then asks: “Who will eat my nose?” and the children answer: “The demon will.” No. 1 then says: “Big feet, long feet, cover with fire,” whereupon all players make a motion with their hands as though casting something down. Other such questions are asked by No. 1, followed by the same words and motions. The last one is: “Who will eat my whole body?”
Readers will fail to see anything of interest in the above pastime, doubtless, and no explanation of it can be given by the writer, who can see no point or meaning in it, and could never obtain such from child or adult. It is, however, a curious fact that a similar pastime obtains among children of the natives of Queensland, even to the hands with fingers twisted being placed one above the other, and lifted off one by one. Its final part is, however, a more rational one than that of the Maori mode. See Report of the Australian Association for 1902.
Inasmuch as
Another childish diversion,
No. 2 then asks: “What shall be done to him?” No. 1 replies: “Spare him” or “strike him.” If No. 1 says “spare him” he receives a light box on the ear. If he says “strike him” he is spared. No. 2 then takes the hands of No. 1 and
Dr. Shortland describes a pastime of little girls as follows: Several would seat themselves in a row, while another walked down the row asking the question: “What kind of a husband will you have?” One would reply: “A food-cultivating husband,” whereupon the questioner remarked: “You require a peaceful land and rich soil.” Another would reply: “A fisherman,” to which the reply would be: “You will need calm weather.” The last child always replied: “A rootdigging husband.” To this the answer was: “That is the best of all husbands. You will never go hungry, but always have food in store.”
Such were the arts of the Whare tapere, such the games, exercises and pastimes of the neolithic Maori. Cut off for centuries from his kin of the Many Isled Sea, isolated in remote isles at the ends of the earth, the conservative Maori lived out his life and conserved institutions, arts, usages and beliefs
When intrusive Europeans settled on these shores the Maori abandoned the arts of the Whare tapere; they are now but a memory. His own statement is that they were discouraged by early missionaries, but most of them were of so harmless a nature that it is difficult to understand why they should have been condemned. The flood of strange new products, usages and ideas introduced by Europeans probably had much effect in the way of causing the abandonment of old practices. Whatever the cause may have been we know that the doors of the Whare tapere of yore have closed for ever.
The Maori love of song—Intoning a common practice—Appreciation of euphony and rhythm—Rhyme unknown—Quarter tones—Maori singing monotonous to our ears—The universal
Although singing forms no important element in our lives, such a remark cannot be employed in connection with the Maori folk. For these people made much use of song in order to express their feelings and thoughts. When we are listening to one of our race delivering a speech, ceremonial or otherwise, it would come as a surprise to us were he to break into song every now and again. Yet this is just what the Maori does. He seems to be nearer to the age of song than we are, as though it had been, in the misty past, an attribute of primordial man that has become gradually weakened as man has advanced in general culture. Certain anthropologists seem to think that human speech was originally sung or chaunted, and assuredly there is some evidence in favour of such an assumption.
Apart from the racial love of song inherent in the Maori, the writer has ever been much impressed and interested by the
Closely connected with the foregoing quality was the partiality of the Maori for metaphor, allegorical expressions mystic and mythopoetic phrases, and aphorisms. In speech he utilised myth and tradition to point his utterances, and also employed innumerable personifications in an apt and pleasing manner. For these reasons the translation of native songs is almost invariably a difficult matter, unless one can obtain enlightenment from one who is acquainted with the figurative expressions, sacerdotal terms, old sayings, allusions to old myths, and cryptic utterances that they contain. The more a person studies native songs, the stronger becomes his desire to leave their translation to others.
The Maori poet had, as one would surmise, no knowledge of rhyme; his aim was a rhythmical flow of words. Presumably rhyme would scarcely be suitable for his peculiar mode of singing; its effect would be lost or dissipated in the long-drawn-out
Another remark made by the above writer is to the effect that a Maori will stop at any point in a song in order to take breath This he assuredly does, though it is surprising to note how seldom he does want to stop for that purpose. He does not drop his voice, however, when he stops. The dying away of the voice in the
So far as can be ascertained by a person utterly ignorant of vocal music, melody, to the native ear, seems to be produced by slight modulations of the voice and lengthened vowel sounds, not only in the form of the
The Maori has a keen ear for the
Europeans complain that native songs are tuneless, but no Maori will agree to this, and he will decline to render a song if he be unacquainted with the
The Maori has a much keener ear for modulations of voice, for inflection, etc., than have most of us. The construction of his language alone might account for this fact, for therein certain usages may be either a question or a state-
There are, of course, different styles of singing, and the charge of being monotonous assuredly cannot be brought against the rendering of such effusions as
A serious difficulty encountered in the translation of these songs is found in alteration of word forms for the sake of euphony. Thus vowels may be inserted, elided, or altered, or an extra syllable may be added to a word. Again, not only do song makers employ archaic expressions and resurrect obsolete words, but they also sometimes coin a word.
It has been said that many old songs call for a great deal of explanation, and this is so with regard to those that include references to old customs, myths and historical occurrences. Again, a single reference may confuse the would-be translator. When Wi Tapeka, father of my worthy old friend Paitini, of Rua-tahuna, died, his widow composed a lament for him, of which the following is a part: “Now lone am I, as, sitting here, I vainly strive my fleeting thoughts to calm. Oh friends! What can be done to soothe the pain that racks me? Bear me to water side and there efface my love for him to whom I clung as clings the clasping vine to forest tree, when I was but a girl and he was but a lad. But now all lone am I, and restless is my sleep as that of mateless bird.” Now here we have matter that is quite clear save the remark anent bearing the bereaved one to the water in order that her sorrow and love may be lessened or effaced. This is a reference to the rite called
In some forms of song, such as lullabies sung to a child, one often encounters numerous references to old myths, beliefs, and historical incidents that will utterly confuse the translator
I have before me a long lament for a dead child. It covers seven foolscap pages and is a fine composition divided into nine
This appeal to the dead to return to life is frequently met with. One such is: “O Hiku, sleeping there, cease thy slumbers. Bestir thyself and rise ere sinks the westering sun.” Again, a mother addresses her dead son in song: “The Mist Maid hovers over Puke-hinau where passed my beloved child. Turn back, O son! Return to me that I may weep anew.”
Some four hundred years ago a woman sat on a hill top at Miramar, near Wellington, looking seaward over the stockades of the fortified village of Puhirangi. Her daughter, a young girl named Rangi, had just died, and she was composing a lament for her. That song has been preserved down the changing centuries, and is here presented:—
In this lament, collected from a descendant of the bereaved mother, we have a number of proper names that it is highly necessary to know the application of. As explained heretofore, two are names of far lands whereat the ancestors of the Maori sojourned in long past times. Then comes the meeting place of spirits and the place wherein the souls of the dead are purified; then the names of places in the uppermost of the twelve heavens. The opening lines refer to an ominous dread that assailed the mother ere her child died. She farewells the soul of her child out across the vast ocean as it flits back to Irihia, the ancient homeland of the race, where, on a mountain bearing the same name, the Four Way Path meets in the Spirit House. She tells the child to ascend by the path of Tane, the whirlwind, to the uppermost heaven, there to be welcomed by the Mareikura, the celestial maids of the realm of Io the Parent. Then comes the final stage, the fading away of all memories of this world.
The reader can now see how much explanation is needed with regard to the rendering of Maori songs. Such songs, with the necessary explanations, illustrate to no mean extent native beliefs, myths and mentality. These laments are termed
Nothing was too trivial to serve as subject for a song. In a MS. book containing some 400 native songs, I note one that was composed by a man who had lost his fish hook. Another bewails the loss of an eel pot; yet another the loss of a pet bird. One describes the sad thoughts of a man afflicted with skin disease, and another the self pity of a man whose wife had deserted him. In this last I may possibly be in error in describing the cause as a trivial one. Presumably she was the only wife he had.
One of the most peculiar songs that the writer has come across is one composed as a lament for a pig that had died, leaving many friends disconsolate in the world of life. It
The facility with which natives compose songs is quite remarkable, though they have nought to do with the difficulty of seeking rhymes. Songs of modern composition are often largely composed of selections from old ones. In olden times some few persons were famed for the number of songs they had composed. A frequent cause of song-making was the desire to square accounts with some person who had offended or insulted the composer. Such effusions were often of the
In writing down songs from Maori dictation we usually make but a sorry job of the task, that is to say we do not keep to the proper line limits. For instance, one might write:
whereas it should be written as a single line. The next line runs:
and the next:
Observe the lengthened vowel sound at the end of each line. All words of the native tongue end in a vowel. In this song the final vowel of each line is so lengthened, whichever vowel it may chance to be.
Almost all natives are singers, after the manner of their kind. This is most noticeable at meetings, when a man, while delivering a speech, will break into song. One after another his party rise and join in the song. At its conclusion they reseat themselves, and the speaker continues his remarks. News was often conveyed in song. Thus when Governor King returned two natives of New Zealand to their homes in 1793, he explains that their friends related to them the tribal news per medium of a song.
As a sample of meaningless vowel sounds introduced into the middle of lines:
This is solely for the sake of euphony, it is a euphonious glide, and the comma on either side of it has no proper place in either line.
In the opening lines of songs we frequently observe references to natural phenomena, as the following examples show:
Prominent natural features are also alluded to:
Abbreviations of the initial word of such lines are also met with, as in “
One seldom notes such attempts to imitate sounds as the following in native songs:
The teaching of historical incidents, traditions, myths, etc., by means of song has been alluded to. Not that such matters were inserted in detail in such songs; they were alluded to so as to familiarise children with the names of characters, incidents, etc. Further instruction would follow in later years. Song was employed by the Maori to an extent utterly unknown in civilised communities. The finest native songs are all old compositions, and it is in such that one meets with interesting examples of poetic imagery.
In his remarks on the Maori Captain Cook wrote: “They sing with some degree of melody the traditions of their forefathers, their actions in war, and other indifferent subjects, of all which they are immoderately fond, and spend much of their time in these amusements, and in playing on a sort of
The generic term for songs is
i.e., to ceremonial songs and others connected with certain functions or actions. Thus the
The
The
The
A collection of songs before the writer contains many love songs, laments, lullabies and ritual chaunts. Others pertain to many different subjects, of which a few examples are given below:
Many other subjects might be mentioned, but again let these suffice. And here it were well to conclude these remarks on native songs, inasmuch as the writer is not competent to descant further upon them. Let those who have music in their souls take up the task.
Prof. E. B. Tylor wrote as follows:—“Much of poetic art lies in imitating the expressions of earlier stages, when poetry was the natural utterance of any strong emotion, the natural means to convey any solemn address or ancestral tradition.” This writer points out how early man talked in metaphors taken from nature, not for poetic affectation, but merely to find the plainest words to convey his thoughts; that the purpose of poetry was to be chaunted, not recited or read as with us.
To close this portion of our discourse let us scan a few lines from a lullaby sung over an infant:
“Wail, O maid! We are but survivors of the battlefield at Rawhiti-roa, of the field of combat where perished Purupuru, when fled we from Pae, from Kahu-tauranga, from Kahu-tapere, from Rakai-pāka; abandoned was our home at Turanga-nui-a-Rua.”
Now, could anything in the way of a theme be more inappropriate than the above to sing to an infant, from our point of view. But the Maori by this means induced children to ask questions, as they grew older, concerning songs they knew so well. And thus knowledge was acquired.
One might well think that the subject of the musical instruments of a barbaric folk such as the Maori might well be disposed of in a few words. Yet one notes many things of interest in connection with the crude arts and accomplishments of such folk, hence I find that my notes under this
The Maori had made some little advance in one direction only in connection with this subject, and that was in the line of wind instruments. His instruments of percussion were exceedingly primitive, and he had done practically nought in the way of evolving stringed instruments. We have one brief note concerning an extremely crude attempt at a stringed instrument that may or may not have been pre-European. Nor does the Maori appear to possess much admiration for stringed instruments; he is much more attracted by a brass band. Concertinas, accordeons and mouth organs appeal to him, but I have never seen a Maori with what we were wont to call a fiddle, the violin of more polite modern nomenclature. Had the Maori used the bow he might possibly have evolved some sort of musical instrument therefrom, but the bow and arrow he would have nought of.
Earle remarks that the Maori disliked the violin, or, perchance, his style of playing it, hence he found it highly useful when he wished to get rid of native visitors. He observes, however, that it had a wonderfully exciting effect on some natives of Tikopia Island, a Polynesian colony in Melanesia. Dr. Thomson wrote of the Maori: “Their hearing is acute, and their perception of musical time accurate, but the simplest melodies are alone agreeable. Delightful music falls upon their ears without exciting emotion, while a noisy drum keeping time gives pleasure. When Captain Cook was at Dusky Sound in 1773 he had the bagpipes, fife and drum played to some natives. He remarks: “The two first they did not regard, but the latter caused some little attention in them.” He also states that the drum was the only instrument that the Tongans paid any attention to.
A barrel organ brought to New Zealand in 1814 or 1815 seems to have attracted the natives. Forster, who accompanied Cook on his second voyage, states that the Tahitians were delighted with the bagpipes. In his account of the Maori, as seen during his first voyage, Cook wrote: “Diversions and musical instruments they have but few; the latter consists of
No precise descriptions of native instruments are given by any of the early writers. The terms fife and flageolet employed by them were probably applied to the
We will take the several instruments in detail, commencing with the
Parkinson's account of the manufacture of the kiekie (Freycinetia Banksii) were much employed for lashing purposes. The bark was scraped off them, and they were split down the middle, and so formed a supple, strong and durable binding material. Forster describes a
Dr. Savage, who visited the far north in 1805, seems to have seen another specimen open at both ends. “This instrument is inflated at one extremity, while the other is occasionally stopped and opened so as to produce some variety in the modulation of the sound.” So that apparently there were two forms of this instrument and two modes of playing it. Dr. Savage remarks that the specimen he saw had a small hole in the middle, whereas it is usually a large one. A specimen in the museum at Hastings is interesting as illustrating the working methods of native carvers. Though old, it is unfinished, in that the carving of the decorative designs has not been completed. Various well executed curvilinear designs have been scratched or incised on its surface, but no actual carving has been done.
Earle, another early sojourner in New Zealand, wrote as follows: “Another instrument is formed of two pieces of wood hollowed out and then bound together, the centre is bellied out, and has a small hole; it is blown into at one end, and the other is occasionally stopped to produce variety.” This small hole in the middle is not a mark of specimens seen in our museums, for in these it is of considerable size. A few songs have been collected that are said to have been sung to the
Mr. White, in his ethnographical notes, terms this instrument a matai (Podocarpus spicatus). The hole in the middle, which was on the upper side, was made larger than the end aperture. Also he remarks that the instrument emitted a
A specimen in the Dominion Museum has a central orifice ⅞in. by ⅝in. The outer end shows no opening whatever. The two end lashings are countersunk, but not so the intermediate ones. There is no sign of any Haliotis shell. Another specimen in the same Museum also lacks the opening at the outer end. Two of these
Information obtained from a few natives in former years shows us that the instrument was blown from the end, and that the central hole was stopped with the fingers. That is all we know concerning the
There was possibly a form of flute in pre-European times that was longer than the tutu (Coriaria), the pith of which had been extracted. One end had been stopped with a piece of wood, and the whole was elaborately carved. It seems to have been blown from the end and had three stops. Dr. Buller remarked that it had a rich note. Within the tube, and about two inches from the sounding orifice, was an artificial constriction with an opening in the centre of about three-sixteenths of an inch, the size of the stops. This reminds one of the
The
Hari Wahanui once played one of these instruments for the writer's benefit, the tune being that of a native song. The note was pleasing. He remarked that the three stops should not be equi-distant from each other, but vary somewhat. He possessed a fine old one fashioned from a human thigh bone, that of a tribal enemy of a long-past generation. These instruments were fashioned from the wood of the matai, tutu, neinei (Dracophyllum), and occasionally poroporo (Solanum), also from human bone as we have seen. Polack is one of the few writers who states that they were sometimes fashioned from the bones of relatives.
An old native explained to me the curious method by which the pith of a piece of
Dr. Savage (1805) speaks of these flutes as being six or seven inches long, and having three holes on one side and one on the other, open at each extremity, elaborately carved, and inlaid with pieces of shell. Nicholas (1815) gives a similar description, and speaks of their pleasing notes. Colenso and Dieffenbach also state that they had four holes. Flutes found in South Island middens are said, in some cases, to have
Many of these flutes have a small projection on one side which is pierced with a hole to contain the cord for suspension. Many are entirely covered with well-executed carved designs, often composed of very fine lines, showing what neat work could be done with stone implements. As already explained, some were so designed as to resemble a phallus. In one recently examined the three holes were by no means equidistant. The first was ⅞in. from the end of the instrument; the second 1in. from the first, and the third 2⅝in. from the second. All three holes were surrounded by small rings of the bright-coloured shell Haliotis iris. The bore was ⅝in. at the orifices. The outside was finely carved.
An old bone
The late Mr. White described an instrument that he called a
A form of flute called
Moser applies the term
There is some slight evidence to the effect that the Maori used a peculiar form of wooden whistle for signalling purposes. It is said that it resembled a tongue in form. Apparently no specimens have been preserved.
The
The ivory specimen alluded to above is five and a quarter inches in length, and its greatest width is one and three-quarter inches. The orifice at the big end is thirteen-sixteenths inches; that at the small end is slightly over one-quarter inch at the lip, but decreases in diameter within. The boring from the big end has been well performed. The whole outer surface is finely carved, including a female figure in relief two and three-quarter inches long. There are two stops on the inner or concave side, but a part of the big end has been destroyed; there may have been another. There is another small hole on the outer side, situated close to the aperture at the small end, in fact only five-eighths of an inch from it. A
Haliotis shell is countersunk above the head of the female figure. There is another ivory
These
Crozet describes how he heard nose flutes played at the Bay of Islands. He alludes to their “fairly sweet but at the same time discordant sounds,” which seems somewhat puzzling. A small stone
We have but few notes as to how these flutes were played; apparently they were mostly sounded from the end like a pipe. Of the small bone instruments found in middens we have apparently no reliable information as to the manner in which they were played.
We have now come to the end of the genuine musical instruments of the Maori. Those that remain to be described may be termed the unmusical ones, consisting, as they do, of braying, hooting trumpets, doleful gongs, etc.
The Podocarpus, was rough hewn, then split down the middle. Each half was then carefully fashioned and hollowed out
Colenso states that some had a hole in the middle used as a stop, but I am not aware that any specimen preserved has such an aperture. This writer states that the
A very peculiar feature of some of these trumpets was the
There are two specimens of the Coriaria (tutu), to which pieces of dressed wood to form the Podocarpus. The deeply serrated bell shaped mouth is a marked peculiarity. An unusual form has projecting pieces on two sides only of the
Forster described the sound of these instruments as uncouth braying. Phormium leaves split in half and wound in a spiral manner. The late Mr. W. H. Warren, who devoted some attention to the
Of the gourd instrument we know very little. A specimen in the British Museum consists of a pear-shaped gourd with a hole near the shank, and three more holes on one side at the wide part of the gourd. An attempt has been made to decorate the gourd by means of parallel lines and a vandyke design.
Thomas Moser, in his Mahoe Leaves, mentions one “in the side of which were punctured two or three holes… They succeed in some way peculiar to themselves in extracting a most horrid noise out of the thing.” Let us hope that Thomas heard but an amateur in gourd music. An east coast native stated that his folk used to fashion horns from gourds of an elongated form having a curve at the shank. This was the small end of the gourd. Both ends were cut off, and at the small end a wooden mouthpiece was fitted on.
We are told that, at the Hawaiian Isles, small gourds, pierced with from two to five holes, were swung by means of a cord, and produced a dismal sound. Ellis tells us that, at the same group, they were sometimes used as we do a tambourine.
The widely-known shell trumpet was here termed
This instrument is simply a shell, known as Septa tritonis, a large univalve that is occasionally found on beaches at the northern extremity of the North Island. Its true habitat seems to be further north in the Pacific. Apparently a much smaller local species, Septa rubicundum, was sometimes utilised in the same way. When examining an old native midden on Somes Island, Wellington Harbour, in 1915, my companion, Sergt. Hard, a member of the detachment guarding the German prisoners on the island, found one of these trumpets. This is certainly S. rubicundum. The apex had been cut off, the truncated part ground smooth, and pierced with three holes for lashing on the wooden mouthpiece.
The mouthpieces employed were very carefully fashioned from suitable woods, decorated with carved designs, neatly lashed on, and then an extra adornment in the form of feathers was added. A cord or sling was often attached for carrying, and chiefs sometimes carried a shell horn when travelling. They would sound it when approaching a village.
An old and famed shell trumpet, named
The Maori always fixed the mouthpiece at the conical point of the shell, but at Fiji, Tahiti and elsewhere, a hole was made in the side of it and a piece of hollow reed inserted as a mouthpiece. These horns or trumpets were used for signalling purposes, and as heard by the writer produce an extremely doleful blare or deep hooting sound. Ellis describes the sound as horrific. Cook heard it blown at Tubuai Isle, and speaks of two or three
In a paper on these shell trumpets by Mr. J.
Apologies are assuredly necessary for including the depressing sound-maker, the bullroarer, among musical instruments, but it certainly makes a noise, that much can be vouched for. Truly is it a primitive form, but much used in Australia, New Guinea, and elsewhere. Even as it was employed in old-time sacred mysteries of Greece, so is it used in the above-mentioned lands.
The Maori seems to have preserved some ideas of its strange uses in other lands. Natives have told me that its sound is produced by the soul or spirit of the operator. This looks like a faint memory, and it seems more probable that the old belief was that it was caused by spirits of the dead, or by the gods. However, this is mere conjecture, which is not the province of the present writer.
East coast natives have informed me that the bullroarer was used in olden times in a rain-making rite. Now this is interesting—to us collectors who sojourn in the dark places of the earth. When rain was needed, e.g., for crops, an expert would, during the evening or night, proceed to demand rain. He would sally forth provided with a bullroarer and a handful of ashes. The ashes he would cast toward the rainy quarter, and then he would sound his bullroarer by swinging it in a vigorous manner. At the same time he repeated his incantation, and also proceeded to insult and anger the rainy quarter by turning his back to it and making aggravating gestures. Naturally that quarter of the compass felt deeply insulted and would send a storm of rain and wind to punish the offender, which would be just what he wanted. The charm itself I decline to render into English, for some of its expressions I
In the same district it was deemed unwise to manipulate a bullroarer without just cause. Children would be chided if they did so, and told that the act would produce a rain storm. Some adult would call out: “Kati ra! He taritari marangai tena mahi.” So that, in some parts at least, the instrument was not used as a toy.
The bullroarer is called
The
The simple little instrument termed a whizzer by boys seems to have been known to the Maori, who calls it a
The true drum of Polynesia was not used by the Maori, and it is a puzzle to us that he did not introduce it here. In its place he used a form of gong, the Podocarpus. One was a very simple form, being merely a large, hewn slab or plank. The other was fashioned in the form of a canoe, the interior of which was laboriously hollowed out through a comparatively narrow slit on the upper side, as are the great wooden gongs of Melanesia. The latter, however, often seem to be placed vertically in the ground, whereas the two Maori gongs were suspended horizontally between two upright posts. The custom was to so suspend them on the
These gongs were struck with a wooden club, and this was part of a watchman's duties in times of danger, to let prowling enemies know that the garrison was on the alert. They were also used for signalling purposes. One early writer told us of a form of the slab gong that had a hole in the middle, and the sound was produced by a wooden club being energetically rattled in this aperture. Dr. Thomson gives an illustration of one of these gongs in his “Story of New Zealand.” Mr. White speaks of it as being suspended by one end only. Mr.
Angas mentions a plank gong seen by him at Otawhao. It was six feet in length and had a groove in the middle; evidently it was not pierced. He speaks of its sound as a most melancholy one. Dr. Thomson tells of one twelve feet in length, and gives the sound range as twenty miles in calm weather, which looks like an exaggeration. Certain natives have asserted that one form of
In his “Out in the Open” Mr. Potts speaks of a gong used as late as the “eighties,” apparently the slab form; this was in the Waikato district. It was suspended from a pole raised on two forked sticks, and was a piece of
In former times hollow trees were occasionally used as gongs by the Maori. Two of these were situated in the Tuhoe district, one, a hollow
The natives of western Polynesia used the hollowed out form of gong, having probably borrowed it from Melanesia. It does not seem to have been used in eastern Polynesia, where the true drum was used. The hollowed log gong of Tonga appears to have been struck with two beaters, during certain dances. Apparently it was in a horizontal position. Cook states that its tone differed, as when struck in the middle and at the end. The slit-like aperture was about three inches wide. The lali of Fiji is a similar instrument.
The smaller drum of Tahiti was known as to'ere. This in the Maori dialect would be Phormium tenax was used for clappers. A short piece was divided, and the operator, holding one-half in each hand, struck one on the other; this primitive form was termed a
Another primitive instrument, known as
Some of the old
We have seen that the Maori applied the name of
The name
Regarding stringed instruments, one is reminded of the old tale about the chapter on the snakes of Ireland. Truly there is little to report. The names Phormium fibre. It was held near the ear when played, and the sound was produced by tapping it with a rod.”
And so end my notes on instruments, musical and unmusical of the neolithic Maori.
Half knowledge of the Maori—Groping through the murk of ignorance—Rude processes—Maori numeration—Binary and vigesimal systems—Polynesian numeration an advanced system—The digits—The ordinals—Prefixes—
In scanning the scientific knowledge of the Maori of past times we may well expect a brief task. His knowledge of what we generally view as science was decidedly elementary, yet we find items of interest in his crude methods of navigation, his half knowledge of the stars, his rude mechanical contrivances and modes of measurement, and his primitive system of time division. In his system of numeration and
In common with other peoples of a similar culture stage the Maori had strayed in some cases from the true path, hence his knowledge of astronomy was combind with astrology in such a manner as often to excite derision among Europeans. In his division of time our Maori had not evolved any satisfactory scheme whereby to fix the commencement of his year, he lacked precision here as in other matters. This is also seen in his lack of a universal and precise unit of measurement, in his inability to define long distances with precision, in his attributing disease to a wrong source, and other matters. In some cases it seems surprising that these natives have not adopted more advantageous methods that to us appear so very perceptible to even a casual observer. For instance we know that they used the cord drill uncontrolled by any form of containing cap piece, hence the crater shaped holes seen in old stone weapons, pendants etc. The cap piece would have been of great advantage in the process of boring and one can but marvel that such simple improvements have not been grasped and utilised. In his primitive system of expressing oil from seeds the Maori relied on the strength of his arms, but a rude form of lever press would have been a great improvement on such a crude method, and would scarcely call for much intelligence, one would suppose, in its adoption.
In nothing such rude processes and forms as those referred to above, one experiences a feeling akin to disappointment that the Maori had not advanced further in mechanical contrivances. The fact is that, after observing the evidences of a superior mentality as possessed by the ancestors of the Maori, we naturally expect to see its effect in his every day
We will now proceed to scan some of the institutions of the Maori that illustrate his progress in elementary science, and will commence with the subject of numeration.
The subject of Polynesian numeration is a somewhat puzzling study inasmuch as one encounters a number of inconsistencies therein, and these are very confusing to the student. We shall here have quite enough to do to deal with the subject as pertaining to New Zealand. The troubles of other lands we will leave to other persons; as the Maori puts it: “
The Maori not only counted singly, but likewise employed a binary system of numeration, while there are also signs of a vigesimal method having been employed in past times. As in the groups of Polynesia there appears to have been no precise universal system of nomenclature employed in all districts, certain differences appear in both names and methods, so far as we can judge. Old methods were, however, abandoned in the very early days of European settlement, and our informants were sometimes not very clear as to those methods. The decimal system has now long been the numerative system of the Maori, probably for nearly one hundred years.
Missionary Ellis proclaimed his astonishment at the Polynesian system of numeration in these words: “The precision, regularity, and extent of their numbers has often astonished me.” The same remark might have been applied to the New Zealand system. The Maori certainly had precise terms whereby to denote numbers up to one hundred and eighty, and by the use of his term for a hundred viz: mano, it is thought by some that it was not employed in olden days to denote that or any other precise number, but that it was used as an equivalent for “numberless,” “countless,” “a vast number,” and similar expressions.
Like ourselves the Maori often made use of round numbers, approximate estimations, such as the expression
The Maori digits are as follows:
Since the arrival of Europeans the word
The word
Carrying our enumeration onward from ten, we use a very widespread mode, the adding of digits to ten, as practised in many lands:
The word for twenty was
We now come to the terms for thirty, one of which is an interesting form:—
This form hangafulu, sangafulu and sangavulu are all employed in the New Hebrides. Anahulu appears at the Hawaiian Isles, angafulu at Samoa, and sangafulu at the Lord Howe Islands. Sangavulu is met with in the Fiji Group, and in distant Indonesia we find sangapulu, sangauru, tangafuru and tahapulu. This farspread
In expressing thirty-one to thirty-nine our Maori proceeded as follows:—
In the expression for forty we encounter another usage. The Maori had his special terms for ten and twenty (
In some cases these terms seem to have been used as denoting a value of but ten times the subjoined numeral; this being the
We have now arrived at
One would now expect that fifty would be expressed as
This scheme is continued as shown above:—
In this method one hundred is i.e., twenty nines, ten, and nine.
The words
The word
The
Such is a brief sketch of the binary system of counting, and it is seen that the term
One encounters some oddities in methods of enumeration, as, for example, in the Waikato mode of counting eels, which is as follows:—
One fails to see what this curious system is based on. The number 44 is a very peculiar unit to employ, and the terms
In enumerating persons the digits 2 to 9 inclusive carry the prefix
In the modern post-European decimal system
The expression
There is an element of confusion in the account of Maori numeration, as also in that of certain groups of Polynesia. This may have arisen from the different systems in use. Our Maori accounts do not always agree by any means, and it is quite possible that differences existed as in different districts, for inter-communication was infrequent; homogeneous systems or institutions could scarcely have existed under these circumstances. One fact remains clear, namely, that, for a barbaric folk carrying on no form of trade, the Maori had evolved or preserved an extended, precise and useful system of enumeration.
The Maori system of division of time had much in common with that of other folk of similar culture, perhaps in no other department of knowledge, of budding science, has man in far-sundered regions evolved such closely allied systems.
It may not cause surprise that the moon was known as “the measurer” to many old-time peoples, so commonly was it utilised among barbaric folk as the basis of their division of time. The defining of the true solar year has been a very long and difficult task. The Maori had some knowledge of the solstices, termed
The lunar month adopted by the Maori was to him a very useful institution, for, like his Polynesian brethren, he had a name for each night of the moon's age. It is clear that these names were introduced hither from Polynesia, so closely do lists from different isles resemble each other. In order to denote a certain day the Maori would mention the particular name of the phase of the moon and the month, but he had no tale of years to carry his date fixing further, and this was one of the two serious weak links in the Maori chain of time. The date of the commencement of his year of twelve lunar
The twenty-seventh night of the moon's age was called Otane (O-Tane, the
The following is a list of the names of the nights of the moon, a list collected from Takitumu sources. The names differ somewhat in different districts, as also does the order in which they appear. This latter discrepancy may be owing to forgetfulness, for the system of time measurement has been abandoned for nearly a century. Most lists contain thirty names, a few have thirty-one, one has but twenty-eight, and one thirty-three:—
Ohua denotes the phase of the full moon, and the three names Ohua, Oturu and Rakanui are called the
Now there was some process of intercalation, some method followed by the Maori that has never been clearly explained. One tells us that the name of Huna, that of the tenth night, is sometimes dispensed with, as the Maori puts it, “
A peculiar feature of these names of the nights of the moon is that the Maori has determined the conditions of each night as to the weather, the suitability for fishing and crop planting. For example, on the Whiro night eels are taken with a bob, and torch light fishing is conducted. On moonlight nights few eels are taken. Some nights (or days as we would say) are good for sea fishing, others are not, while some days are unlucky, and some are likely to be too windy for sea fishing to be safe.
The Maori would reckon the length of a journey by the number of nights spent on the road. Thus the question: “
No attempt had apparently been made to divide the lunar month into weeks. The Maori would hardly experience the want of such a division. He employed his month and night names as follows: “
The Moriori folk of the Chatham Isles gave names for thirty-one nights, such names being practically all New Zealand forms.
When examining the names of the lunar months we find that, unlike those of the nights of the moon, they are not known far and wide throughout Polynesia. A few only are so met with in northern isles and these are star names, such as Whakaahu, used here to mark months and seasons more than as month names. In the matter of month names employed by the Maori we find more variations than in the names of the nights of the moon. Moreover in all districts people seem to have had two ways of referring to the months of the year. They sometimes employed the proper name of the month, but often spoke of them as “the first” and “the second,” and so on.
The following are the proper names of the months as given by Takitumu natives:—
The first name of the list apparently represents the first month of the year. Now we will turn to a Matatua list, as collected from the Tuhoe tribe, whose lands impinge upon those of Takitumu. In no single case do the names agree.
Such was the Tuhoe list of months as given me by old Tutaka of the Children of the Mist, together with his remarks thereon. The name of the first month, Pipiri, is a star name, the name of a winter star, or rather of two stars apparently close together, that mark the first month. Mahuru is the name for spring, and the personified form of spring. Poutu-te-rangi is another star name, that of Altair, a star that marks the tenth month. Ruhi is a star in the constellation of the
Now on the east coast of the North Island the Pleiades year obtained, and the year commenced with the heliacal rising of that group in early winter, or, to be more precise, with the first new moon after the Pleiades was first seen on the eastern horizon in early morn. This means that the commencement of the year was a variable quantity and not fixed. In the far north, and apparently in the South Island, also at the Chatham Isles, 400 miles east of the South Island, the new year was fixed by the heliacal rising of Rigel, known as Puanga to the Maori. I am inclined to believe that the latter is the older system here in New Zealand, and that it was carried to the Chathams by some of the earlier inhabitants of that group when they settled those lone isles. The Pleiades year was probably a later introduction brought hither by the later coming immigrants of Takitumu and Matatua from Polynesia, where it is evidently an old institution.
An every-day usage was to indicate the months by employing the ordinal numbers. Thus in some places the first month is called Te Tahi o Pipiri (The First of Pipiri), or simply Te Tahi (The First), or Te Matahi. The second month is Te Rua o Takurua, or simply Te Rua. The third is Te Toru o Hereturi-koka, or Te Toru; the fourth is Te Wha o Mahuru (The Fourth of Mahuru), or Te Wha; and the fifth is Te Rima o Kopu (The Fifth of Kopu), or simply Te Rima—and so on. The term Maruaroa includes the period of the winter solstice; this is the Maruaroa of the winter season, but there is another period called the Maruaroa of the Orongonui, which denotes summer.
The following are names of the seasons:—
A few early writers state that there were thirteen months in the Maori lunar year, and it is possible that they had an
Although the Moriori folk of the Chatham Isles employed names for the nights of the moon that are all found in Maori lists, yet their month names differed entirely, a curious fact. In the Moriori list Wairehu is the eighth month, and Waerehu is the Maori name of a star that marks the seventh month, while Welehu is a Hawaiian month name.
In some lists we note that the names of the eleventh and twelfth months are what may be termed makeshift names, such as Ngahuru tuhoehoe and Ngahuru kaipaenga. This fact has led some to assert that the Maori had names for ten months only, and took no notice of the other two months. This is not correct, but these two months were deemed the unimportant months of the year by agricultural tribes; the crops had been garnered and stored, and the preparation of the ground for next season's crop was not commenced until later. The Maori had names for the twelve months, and was never at a loss to denote any month of the year.
The flowering of various plants and trees, the ripening of fruits, the nesting of birds, the decay of annual plants, the arrival of the cuckoo, were all useful to the Maori in fixing the time for certain regular activities of his life.
It is a curious fact that the Pleiades year in Polynesia commences when that constellation is first seen in the evening, whereas in New Zealand it commences with its heliacal rising. We do not know why this change was made when Polynesians settled in New Zealand; though it may be that the desire was to retain ancient institutions. The year ending in autumn was an institution of Egypt and Chaldea in long-past times, and hence in the northern hemisphere the year would commence in certain lands in what is our southern summer. When the Polynesians reached New Zealand they found that autumn is here a pronounced, well-defined season, and that the year's labours, closing with the storage of crops, ceased in March and April. A desire to retain the year ending in
The Babylonian year was composed of twelve months of thirty days each, and it was regulated by intercalation at certain periods. In Egypt the same tale of months and days obtained, while five extra days were set apart for a ceremonial agricultural festival. Curiously enough this system reappears at the Hawaiian Isles, even to the five extra days devoted to a festival in honour of the gods of agriculture.
Several writers are of the opinion that the Polynesians have retained some evidence of a former knowledge of the ten months'year, another ancient Asiatic institution. Some slight evidence of this nature is noticeable in Maori lore.
There are in Maori a great number of words employed in denoting time: I have before me a list containing one hundred and forty-eight of such terms. The list, however, contains a considerable number of synonyms. The word
One does not expect to find a precise system of measurement employed by such a folk as the Maori, inasmuch as their
Another form of the
The weakness of the above system is at once realised, and bears out the remark that each person was a standard unto himself. The different units would differ in length, according to the height, length of limb, etc., of the human standard. Thus, whenever natives were engaged in such a task as building a house it was necessary to select some person to perform the part of a carpenter's rule, otherwise confusion would ensue.
It is a noteworthy fact that the
The width of two or more fingers was occasionally used as a unit, and would be called “two
The Maori employs two units to denote measurements even as we do. For example: “
When a
The
In the
A man would sometimes use his walking staff as a measuring rod, as in laying off the dimensions of a new house. On the east coast, among the Takitumu folk, we hear of a special measuring rod, termed a
A cord described as a
Natives now employ some of our terms of measurement, as foot, yard, chain and mile, but often have very vague ideas as to their value. The writer was once crossing Waikare-moana in a native canoe, when an old native, who was giving us an account of some of the old-time fights round the lake, remarked: “If we were to attack Pukehuia now with European weapons I think that we might do so from the opposite shore, for a rifle will carry one hundred yards—or is it one hundred miles?”
So the marked feature of Maori standards of measurement was their indefiniteness, each person providing his own standards. They possessed, however, the keen, “true” eye that readily detects any discrepancy or irregularity.
In the matter of mechanics the knowledge of the Maori did not extend far. Of simple appliances and methods he employed a number, but the tree-felling apparatus to be described represents his furthest advance. He employed the lever in dealing with heavy weights such as logs, a beam or pole used as a lever or handspike being termed a
The wedge was employed by the Maori in two ways, as a splitting agent, and as a tightening one. Hardwood wedges were employed in splitting logs and baulks, the maul
The writer is by no means sure that the Maori used the roller in moving heavy weights, but skids were commonly employed to expedite such tasks as the hauling of canoes, and heavy logs for house timbers, stockade posts, etc. Skids are termed Panax aboreum of which the surface of the green trunk, after removal of the bark, is found to be glairy or slimy, and exceedingly slippery. This renders it an admirable skid, and tends to show that such lengths were used as skids and not as rollers.
The hauling of a heavy log or half-hewn canoe, or long ridgepole of a house, perhaps seventy feet in length, over a skidway by natives is quite an interesting sight. The drag ropes are manned by many men who haul in unison, and an active fugleman chaunts the hauling song, the haulers joining in the chorus.
I have heard natives describing the parbuckle method of rolling a log as though it were an old Maori usage, which I doubt. A form of trestle, termed a
The rope being secured by one end to the ridgepole, was then carried over the crosspiece D and trailed down on the other side to the line of haulers. A similar apparatus was prepared at the other end of the ridgepole, and then all that was needed was a sufficiency of man power to lift the great weight of the baulk. When the ridgepole was swung up to the crosspieces it was, of course, higher than the top of the posts that were to support it, and could then be lowered so as to rest on them. This method has been explained by natives as a pre-European usage, but concerning this we have no corroborative evidence from early writers. However that may be the Maori must have evolved some method of raising such heavy baulks to such heights; this applies to the large superior houses.
Rude forms of ladders (
The form of drill employed by the Maori in pre-European times was a primitive one, that termed the cord drill, or thong drill, but it was apparently used without any form of cap piece, hence the operator's control of it was scarcely satisfactory. The resultant wobbling of the shaft produced the crater-shaped hole that is seen in old native stone weapons and pendants. This form of drill was employed in India in ancient times. The pump drill was not used by the Maori in pre-European days, but was acquired from early voyagers; this was the pierced bar form. Had the Maori used the pump drill in olden times it would have been the free bar form found in use among many of the Pacific Islanders.
The native drill, called
In order to work the drill the shaft was turned round a few times, which caused the two cords secured to its upper part to wind round the shaft. Grasping a cord in each hand the operator, by pulling them in a direction downward and outward, starts the reciprocal motion that marks the cord, pump and bow drills. A little practice enables one to work this native drill with ease, but it is impossible to prevent the oscillation of the shaft that produces the crater-like hole. The operation of boring a piece of steel-hard nephrite is a very slow and tedious one. A small proportion of the holes seen in old stone artifacts are of better form and appear as though some controlling agent had been employed whereby to steady the shaft, but most of them show that no such control was employed.
Perhaps the most interesting appliance employed by the Maori of former days was an adaptation of the old Roman balista that was utilised in felling trees. Herein the Maori
The ordinary method of felling large trees, as when about to fashion a large canoe, was by the use of a chisel-shaped stone tool, large and heavy, lashed in an axial manner to a long, stout shaft. This was worked on one or two horizontal timbers lashed to supporting posts. A couple of men would manipulate this tool after the manner of a battering ram, the shaft sliding on the horizontal rail. This was a very laborious and slow process, for such stone implements possessed little cutting power in working timber across the grain. When a horizontal groove had been punched in the trunk of the tree then the supporting rail was lifted and a similar groove former higher up, after which the block of wood between the two grooves was chipped out. This was done by using the battering implement as a splitting tool, the cutting edge worked vertically, or by means of a stone adze worked sideways. Again, fire was often employed in tree felling, a fire being kept burning in the kerf for some time, after which the charred wood was chipped off with stone adzes. In the Dominion Museum at Wellington is the stump of a
Such was the ordinary method of tree felling, but among the Matatua folk of the Bay of Plenty district, and also apparently among the Arawa tribe, a much more interesting apparatus was employed. Here at the ends of the earth was seen an adaptation of the old Roman balista that was used in felling big trees such as were needed in canoe making. When one remembers that a large canoe in the Auckland Museum is 83 feet in length and fashioned from a single log then one has some idea of the size of trees felled in olden days. Our Maori, in pre-European days, evolved this strange device to lessen the labour and time spent in felling heavy timber. It was a clever contrivance, and the employment of the principle of the bow is the more interesting because the Maori did not use the bow in any other form. An examination of the accom-
A represents the trunk of the tree. B is a pliant sapling, while C represents a firmly-set post to which B is secured by lashing. D D represents the bowstring which at E is slipped over a protuberance on the tool shaft, or into a slot in the same. This shaft, marked H, has a cord, F, secured to its posterior end, while to its anterior end the heavy, chisel-shaped stone implement I is lashed at K. G represents the two parallel horizontal rails on which the shaft works. The detail diagram shows how the stone implement was fitted into the end of the shaft at J. The process of working this appliance will be evident to the reader. The bowstring was put into position on the shaft as it lay on the supporting rails. One or two men controlled the shaft and others “tailed on” to the rope F. Pulling the shaft backward bent the bow, which strain provided the required impulse when the shaft was released by the operators. The length of stroke was but ten or twelve inches; a longer one was liable to result in the fracture of the stone tool. Two grooves were “punched” in the trunk with this implement as described above. By practising together men became expert in the use of this singular contrivance, and its use seems to have been confined to a guild of a few families of the Tuhoe and Arawa tribes. As an illustration of primitive mechanics this tree-felling apparatus, so jealously conserved, is of much interest.
The whip-thrown spear described elsewhere was a very crude form of missile weapon, but a step in advance of hand throwing. The stone sling was not used in these isles, so far as we are aware, though the Maori employed it in his Polynesian home. The bow and arrow was certainly not used by the Maori folk here, yet there is some evidence to show that the Mouriuri aborigines, or original settlers, knew and used it. A bow found in a swamp north of Auckland resembles those of the New Hebrides group; it was dug up from a depth of two feet.
Of timber working tools the adze was by far the most important. The adze was the common hewing tool throughout Polynesia as the axe was in Australia. Very few of the
The Maori folk had no form of script, no method of recording events or knowledge by means of any form of written character. It has been suggested that in olden days some form of written characters was employed, but that the art has been lost. There is no reliable evidence to support such statements or theories, and the best negative evidence is that the Maori formerly used the quipus or knotted cord for recording tallies. We do not know that this system was actually used here, but it certainly was in Polynesia, and the Takitumu natives have preserved a memory of it, a traditional knowledge of the
Another form of mnemonics is seen in what the Maori calls
There was no science of medicine in Maoriland. The native belief that all bodily ailments were caused by evil spirits, or came as punishment from the gods, effectually prevented research in even simple lines such as herbal remedies. When they at last received the knowledge of internal medicines from Europeans the natives were captivated by the new mode of exorcising evil spirits. They took to medicine as a duck takes to water, and swallowed any nostrum they could procure, be it ever so vile. Ere long they began to concoct strange herbal remedies themselves.
The implements employed by the Maori in the arts of agriculture, weaving and fire generation were as primitive as they well could be, and can scarcely be taken as illustrating the intelligence of the race. The Polynesian folk used the crudest method of obtaining fire, that termed the “fire plough” by anthropologists, which consists of rubbing a piece of wood briskly in a groove formed in another piece.
We have already scanned the origin of fire and sundry fire myths, and have now merely to give a few notes on the native mode of generating fire. In theory the Maori ever viewed fire-making as an act of generation in which both sexes must have a part. He terms the act ongiongi, which is the Maori
The symbolical mode of generating fire is that wherein both sexes participate. The woman steadies the
The wood of the Pennantia corymbosa, Aristotelia racemosa, and
The process of generating fire by this method is an interesting one to watch, more so than that of the palm drill, on account of it being a more primitive method. The task is a somewhat strenuous one, and a considerable amount of practice is required ere one acquires the right knack, as the writer can testify. Taking a set of fire sticks now lying before me I find that the Pennantia wood that has been thoroughly seasoned. The
Fire was viewed by the Maori as a great boon; food and warmth are the salvation of man. This feeling is often stressed in native narrative, song and aphorism. In these crude arts, as practised by the Maori, we see the beginnings of the scientific achievements of more advanced peoples.
We have already seen something of Maori astrogeny and astrolatry, also the indirect worship of the sun, and the moon cult. The sun is masculine in Maori myth, but the two personified forms of the moon are of different sexes. Unfortunately we know little of Maori astronomical lore, for early writers did not enquire into it, and it has long been too late to gather reliable data. We do know that these Polynesian folk were close observers of the heavenly bodies, as they would necessarily be when making their long voyages across the Pacific. They had names for a great number of stars, and know when to look for them on the eastern horizon, for it was the heliacal rising of stars that the Maori looked to in the regulation of seasons, etc.
All the heavenly bodies are included in the descriptive title of Whanau Marama, the Light Giving Family; they are the Children of Light. The Maori often speaks of them as though they were sentient beings, and we have seen that he assigns their origin to other sentient and supernormal beings. The Polynesian race has been an exceedingly adventurous one in the past, and its long centuries of sea-faring life made for a close study of the stars and planets. The innumerable long deep-sea voyages made by these folk in pre-compass days rendered a knowledge of the movements of the heavenly bodies absolutely necessary. In this connection the ancestors of the Maori may be said to have had some little knowledge of the
The Maori was a close student of celestial phenomena in general, and of the movements and aspect of stars in particular. Not universally so as to the persons of a community, but certain persons, usually members of the
The Maori had names for a large number of stars, but unfortunately these were not collected in the early days of European settlement, and much of the old-time knowledge was soon lost. All that we know of the star lore of the Maori is but a fragment. The
Allusions to the Children of Light are often noted in native songs, as in the following extract from a song sung to a child, a lullaby: “Hither came you from the realm of
We see many songs commencing with such a line as: “Yonder is Venus appearing above the horizon.” The sun is also frequently mentioned, as: “Decline, O sun, and sink into the abyss.” Also the moon, as: “Yonder the moon drifts slowly along.”
Stars are termed
The Maori loved to speak of the heavenly bodies as a family, one in which the members are ever regardful of each other; they dwell in amity, and that condition was the origin of family love in this world. The greeting of the new moon by women resembled the similar function pertaining to the stars; such reappearances reminded natives of those claimed by death, the permanent death allotted to man in days of yore. The
A number of the Maori star names are known far and wide across the Pacific; they have been so carried by sea wandering folk of past centuries, what time the Polynesian
Some of the old native
We have already noted the frequency with which the number twelve is encountered in Maori myth, cosmogony and institutions. In referring to this peculiar fact the late president of the Polynesian Society has written as follows: “When we consider also the thread of astronomical and meteorological ideas that permeate much of the teaching, we can scarce avoid a suspicion that the whole philosophy was based largely and originally upon astronomy. It is certain that the Polynesians were accurate observers of celestial phenomena… They gave a name to the celestial equator, and every prominent star, and were fully aware of the rotundity of the earth, as proved by the fact of finding new stars as they went further north or south. It may be that the number (twelve) of the heavens is connected with the twelve months and the twelve signs of the zodiac, and that this is the origin of their cosmogony.”
In Maori myth the piko o Wakea. The Hawaiian t was changed to k only about a century ago, hence we read it as pito o Watea, the navel of Watea. The latter being, Watea, is the personified form of Space, and this was the Hawaiian name for the zodiac or the ecliptic. It is of interest to note that one of the old Maori wise men gave a list of twelve star names in his discourse on the
In a paper contributed by Mr.
Evidence from the Hawaiian Isles as to the knowledge of stars possessed by Polynesian sea rovers is very remarkable, and we know that Maori tradition tells us that deep-sea voyagers carried expert star gazers with them on their long voyages. Further evidence concerning these barbaric astronomers and their methods and achievements has been given in a former chapter.
The Maori employed a few genuine names of compass points, but in many cases he utilised the wind names as such. The terms i.e., S. W.), and i.e., N. W.) are specific terms.
The diagram given bears sixteen wind names given by
With regard to Maori star names the position is most unsatisfactory. But few names have been satisfactorily identified, and apparently names differed to some extent in different districts. Seven names have been collected for Canopus, of which Autahi and Atutahi are most commonly heard. One peculiar form is Atutahi-ma-Rehua (Canopus and Antares), but it is not known as to why the two names should be coupled together in this way.
The Hao o Rua is a group of stars near Orion's Belt.
Hine-i-tiweka is another name for Parearau.
The Milky Way is Te Ikaroa, Te Mangoroa, Mokoroa-i-ata, Te Paeroa-o-Whanui, Te Ika-a-Maui, and Te Ika-matua-a-Tangaroa, and it has seven other names.
Mahutonga, or the Kahui o Mahutonga, is the Southern Cross, which is also called the Taki o Autahi. The Belt of Orion is Tautoru and Te Kakau. Puanga is Rigel in Orion. The Magellan Clouds are Nga Patari, the smaller one is Tikatakata and the larger one Tioreore. They are also known collectively as Whakaruru-hau. Seventeen other names for them have been collected. Venus is known as Kopu, whose names are confusing. In the Tuhoe district this planet is known as Kopu when it appears in the morning in winter; as Tawera when it appears in the morning in winter; as Tawera when it appears late at night in the eighth and ninth months of the Maori year; and as Meremere-tu-ahiahi when an evening star in summer. The name of Mata-kaheru is applied to the constellation of Hyades, probably from its shape, which resembles that of an old form of spade blade used at Waikato and elsewhere.
Taumata-kuku is Aldebaran, Matariki the Pleiades, also known as Ao-kai, and the Huihui o Matariki. Six of the stars of the Pleiades are Tupua-nuku, Tupua-rangi, Waiti, Waita, Waipuna-a-rangi and Ururangi. The peculiar name of Hokokumara is also applied to the Pleiades.
The Coal Sack is Te Patiki, also Te Rua-patiki, and Naha.
Williams gives Poutu-te-rangi as Altair, sometimes Antares. Rehua is Antares on the east coast. The long curved line of stars in Scorpio of which Antares is one is known as the Canoe of Mairerangi, while the Canoe of Tamarereti is the Tail of the Scorpion. Puangahori is Procyon. Parearau was the name applied to Jupiter by several Bay of Plenty natives, though Stowell assigns the name to Saturn. Takurua is Sirius, but the name is applied to several stars, and Whanui is Vega. Many more star names have been collected but these have not been properly identified, and a recital of the many names would be tiresome.
Canopus was viewed as a very
Parearau is said to be a female, and is evidently a planet, hence the story of her being an irresponsible, wandering person. She is spoken of as the wife of Kopu (Venus), but she left him and clung “to another cheek,” so she is often known as the errant or vagabond, Hine-i-tiweka. The name Parearau signifies an encircling band, hence it has been said that the name pertains to Saturn. A native remarked of her: “Her band quite encircles her, hence she is called Parearau.”
A prominent feature of the names applied to the Milky Way is that several of them proclaim it as a fish, and the name of Mokoroa, great or long
In Te Kakau the Maori recognises the form of an adze handle
The Magellan Clouds are remarkable in native story on account of their portents as to coming winds. These signs often hinge upon the relative positions of the two.
The beauty of Venus is recognised by natives, otherwise they would not have evolved the following saying, quoted when a handsome woman is seen:
The Maori seems to have names for seven stars in the Pleiades, for we are told that Matariki and her six children abide in the heavens, where their task is to provide food for mankind and to foretell the aspect of coming seasons. Fine weather is alluded to as the Paki of Matariki. A fable speaks of Matariki (the Pleiades) as the offspring of Summer and Raro (the lower world). The Pleiades festival was an important one in Maori eyes. During the present year (1922) the old Maori year commences with the new moon on May 27, according to my native correspondents. The name of Matariki is known far and wide across Polynesia.
Rehua (Antares) is looked upon as representing summer, hence “alias Ruhi, and of the other Whakaonge-kai. The former is she who induces the languid, enervated feeling of man in summer; fine weather is called the Paki o Ruhi, and her full name of Ruhi-te-rangi is applied to the ninth month. The other wife of Rehua is credited with making food scarce in summer.
Takurua has been identified as Sirius, and
The stars named Wero and Pipiri are spoken of as winter stars, but have not been identified; Whakaahu is a summer
From Vega also were derived signs as to the coming season, its leanness or fatness.
It would be tedious to relate a somewhat long list of names that have not been identified. Albeit much of myth and quaint fancy enters into native star lore, yet in some ways the Maori made scientific use of his knowledge of the
Comets are often spoken of as pusaloa, a comet, is probably the Maori
Meteors are called
The Maori has a number of names denoting red or luminous aspects of the sky, such as
The aurora australis is known as aurora australis is really the reflection in the heavens of huge fires kindled by descendants of those old voyagers. They are signalling to their distant kinsmen in these isles, and are probably desirous of being rescued from their chill abode.
With regard to the rainbow, we have seen that the Maori possessed some quaint myths concerning them, and that several of his gods were personified forms of that display. Atua piko and atua tapiko are descriptive terms for the rainbow. Its ordinary names are aniwaniwa, kopere, and aheahea. Omens were derived from the appearance of the bow; if ominous of evil then a tohunga would busy himself in reciting a charm to ward off the danger.
Lightning (uira) is also much personified, as we have noted, and omens were derived from its varying appearances. These remarks also apply to thunder. The Maori always strove to control natural phenomena, rain, thunder, etc., by means of charms and some simple ceremonies. This was often done in connection with wind by sea farers, and with frost by crop growers. Clouds (ao and kapua) have also a number of personified forms, and wind signs are derived from them. The Cloud Children of native myth are a numerous company, and another story makes clouds the covering or clothing of the primal parents. Clouds, personified in Hine-kapua the Cloud Maid, are the offspring of Tane, that is of the sun; they are also said to be produced from the warmth of the body of the Earth Mother.
The Maori knowledge of astronomy was of a very elementary nature, but he made good use of his powers of observation, and so was enabled to make his long deep sea
The development of the recognition of colours is not a subject that the present writer has any knowledge of. The statement that has been made that the Maori was blind to blue, Transactions of the New Zealand Institute, Vol. 12, pp. 156-158.pukepoto as a pigment for facial adornment. It was a scarce substance, and in some cases difficult to procure. If the Maori could not distinguish between blue and black, as has been stated, then why did he so prize the rare pukepoto, for charcoal was plentiful enough. This pukepoto is vivianite, a phosphate of iron. The Maori used the word to denote blue.
From tests made with our natives in connection with the ability to distinguish different colours, it appears that the weakness of the Maori colour scheme lies more with his vocabulary than with his powers of visual perception. The Maori employed black, white, and red pigments in his decorative art connected with houses, etc; the pukepoto seems to have been used for facial decoration only. He also had terms to denote green, brown and blue, but he relied much on natural objects, that is on comparison, when he wanted to define colours.
Native terms employed to denote black, white and red are specific and apparently ancient. Those for brown, green, blue and grey bear a more modern aspect. Then we come to straight-out names of natural objects, and in this line we ourselves also use many terms of a like nature, hence such expressions as rose coloured, wine coloured, orange coloured, etc. Were we to drop these terms of comparison then our own scheme of colour definition would be marked by an awkward paucity of terms.
The Maori has two words to denote black, mangu and pango. The latter is, however, also used as meaning simply “dark,” or dark-coloured, hence it is used in speaking of dark brown or blue. Uriuri is also used to describe anything dark-coloured, and this uri reappears in pouri (dark); po signifies night.
The common term for white is mā, but the word tea also carries the same meaning. Kōmā and hāmā mean whitish, light coloured. Ahoaho and puaho denote intense whiteness. A light colour with a brownish or reddish tinge I have heard described as ma puwhero.
The usual expression for red is whero, but many other words denote the colour red, or bear such a meaning as “gleaming” or “ruddy.” Brown is often called whero, though pakaka describes that colour; the latter is from a word meaning “scorched.” Pāka korito denotes light brown, the last word being also used to denote light coloured hair. Whero popouri is dark red, and whero mangaeka a light or yellowish red. Ngangana seems to convey the sense of glowing redly, as also does mura, and puwhero means reddish. Ura and kura are both employed to denote red, as also are a number of other terms, of which ura may be said to be the root form. Tuawhero denotes light red or reddish colour.
The common term for green is kakariki, and this is the name of the little green parakeet, the kakariki, and also the native name of the common green lizard (Naultinus elegans). Another word used to denote green in pounamu, which is the name of what we call greenstone, that is nephrite and some other stones. This word is evidently based on namu, the Tahitian word for green. The Maori calls our glass bottles pounamu;
Penei me te kohuwai te ahua” (Like the kohuwai in appearance), the said kohuwai being a water plant. The expression kowhai kakariki is employed to denote greenish yellow. The kinds of greenstone called rau karaka (karaka leaf) and kawakawa have evidently been so named because their colours resemble those of the leaves of the karaka and kawakawa trees.
The term for red (whero) is not infrequently applied to yellow. A more precise term employed is pua kowhai (kowhai blossom) which denotes the yellow blossoms of a species of laburnum. In some cases simply the word kowhai is used. Another term for yellow is pungapunga, the origin of which usage probably lies in the pollen of the common bulrush, which is known by the same name, and is of a yellow colour. Renga (=yellow) is another name for this pollen. Yet another word used to express yellow is mangaeka, the name of the yellow strips of undressed Phormium leaf used in decorating certain capes. The term kowhai is sometimes applied to the sun (Ka ahua kowhai te ra), as in the evening when it looms yellow above the horizon in the golden sunset. The term parakaraka is applied to orange, and evidently here the ripe berries of the karaka tree are alluded to.
As we have seen the name of a blue earth used as a face paint was employed to denote blue. The blue sky is called kikorangi, and this term was used in comparison terms, as also was werewere kokako, the name of the blue wattles of the crow. Yet blue might be alluded to simply as pango (dark). I once asked a native what the colour of the blue earth called pukepoto was. He replied: “It is pango, like the ‘blue’ you use when washing garments.”
The only specific term I know for grey is kororā, and it is by no means in common use. It was probably derived from the bird of that name, a penguin having bluish grey plumage. Such an expression as kōmā might be applied to
Hina and puhina are employed to denote grey hair, but are not applied to anything else. Original meanings of hina seem to have been “pale” and “shining,” thus mahina is a name for the moon. Hina is the personified form of that orb, and hinatore is any phosphorescent substance.
A term often employed among the southern Takitumu folk to denote grey is tangatapū, a word that caused the writer no small amount of trouble. Repeated enquiries revealed the fact that the word was originally employed to denote grey pigs, the first of that colour seen were given to the natives by the whalers. These grey pigs were called tangatapū, a word obtained from the whalers as the name of the place of origin of those pigs. Evidently they had been obtained by the seafarers at Tonga-täpu, an isle of the Tongan Group, a name pronounced as Tangataboo by the old whaling fraternity.
The statement made by the late Canon Stack that blue was not recognised by the Maori cannot be upheld. A further statement that no words are found in the native tongue to express brown, orange and pink, is also an error. The Maori certainly utilised many terms of comparison, but we also use many similar expressions.
The word ura is sometimes employed to express red and also brown, often “glowing,” and mumura carries a similar meaning. Ata and kakano are both used to denote shades of colour, or hues.
It seems to be a fact, and a curious one, that names for colours appear to originate everywhere in the same order, black, white and red being the first to receive specific names.
Our Maori folk, like their kindred in Polynesia, had not advanced far in the art of shipbuilding. Their sea-going vessels were but rude craft consisting of dug-out hulls, the sides of which were raised by means of adding one or more top-strakes, secured carvel-wise. Owing to the large size of trees found here a single strake was deemed sufficient in nearly all cases. These were attached by means of lashings passed through holes in the strake and upper part of the hull, the join being covered by a batten. The rim lashing method employed at Fiji and elsewhere, notably at some of the isles of western Polynesia, seems to have been unknown here.
Primitive as were the craft of these isles and of Polynesia, yet some interesting evidence may be noted concerning the origin of certain modern practices in the details of such vessels. Thus, in the supports of the rude floor or platform of the Maori canoe we see the first form of a boat rib or knee, although it was not attached to the sides of the canoe, and in no way served to strengthen it. In Wallis's account of Paumotu canoes may be noted an advance on the Maori construction, inasmuch as they are said to have been “formed of planks sewed together and fastened to several small timbers that pass transversely along the bottom and up the sides.” Again, Porter, the American voyager, speaks of canoes of the Marquesas having three plank partitions across the hull, which “perform the office of timbers to keep the vessel from separating or closing together.”
A model of a canoe from the Gilbert Group shows nine pairs of ribs carefully fitted, and to these ribs the side planks are lashed. Here we have a marked advance toward the built-up frame vessel. In Williams's work, “Fiji and the Fijians,” we find the following: “The ribs seen in canoes are not used to bring the planks into shape, but are the last thing inserted, and are for securing the deep side boards…and uniting the deck more firmly with the body of the canoe.” At the Ke Islands a distinct advance was made toward a framed boat, both lashings and trunnels being employed. A similar advance is seen in the canoes of Micronesia. Labillardiere describes canoes of the Admiralty Isles as being fitted with cross boards internally, apparently resembling the partitions of the Marquesas canoes.
In Forster's account of canoes of the New Hebrides he speaks of the lashings being passed through knobs on the inner sides of the planks, so that these knobs served the same purpose as the interior cant or rim of Fijian vessels, and no lashing appeared on the outer side of the plank.
The Takitumu canoe that came from the Society Isles to New Zealand is clearly described as an outrigger vessel, and two accounts credit her with the double outrigger. She is also said to have had two masts, but it seems doubtful if a single outrigger vessel would carry two sails.
Much more might be written concerning the Maori canoe, but it would here occupy too much space, and it is proposed to publish a special work on the subject in the near future.
War a leading pursuit—The Gates of War—“By women and land are men lost”—The laughter that desolated far lands—“Nought remains save the drifting birds”—Different degrees of warfare—Boys dedicated to war god—Training of youths—Fighting qualities preserved by ritual—The evils of pahunu and hinapo—The female element the salvation of man—Omens—Why Orakau fell—Tu the Red Eyed—How the Maori fought—Women in war—Aphorisms—The Ika a Whiro and “red tongues”—Tribal Dr. and Cr. accounts—Extraordinary ways of avenging defeats—“When the sun flashes on Tawhiuau”—Broken tribes driven south—Taharua—Modes of fighting—The flight of the cormorant—Native weapons—Guards and points—Taniwha challenges the British Army—The prized mere—The maripi not a weapon—Missile weapons—The whip-thrown spear—The sling—Bow and arrow not a Maori weapon—The art of karo—Weapons charmed—Protective capes, etc.—Acquisition of firearms—The taua goes forth—The tiwha token—The Wai-taua rite—The war dance—Te Hihi's famous race against death—War cries—The attack—The “first fish”—How the mawe comes home—Pursuit—The hoa charm—Slaves—Peace-making—The dance of the Mareikura—The grass-grown war trail.
Having practised the arts of peace for some time it behoves us now to lift the war trail and march with the kawau māro under the banner of Tu. For war was certainly a Maori occupation, one of his common activities, more so than was agriculture. Some tribes cultivated but little food, or none at all, but assuredly all indulged in fighting. It was a necessity, for the people who were not prepared to fight courted disaster and extinction. No such a people has been heard of in New Zealand, but we are told that the Moriori folk of the Chatham Isles had entirely abandoned fighting long before discovery by Europeans. The result of that lapse from virtue we know well. When, in 1835, a band of the Atiawa tribe seized the Rodney
An old saying of the Maori runs: “Ka tuwhera te tawaha o te riri, kaore e titiro ki te ao marama,” which may be rendered as: The gates of war are open and man recks not of the world of life. It is through those gates that we must now accompany the Maori toa, or warrior, in order to observe his modes of fighting.
Among such a “touchy” folk as the Maori the causes of war were innumerable, almost anything might lead to intertribal fighting. The Maori says: “He wahine, he whenua, e ngaro ai te tangata” (By women and land are men lost), but there were many other causes of war, and none more prolific than the extreme sensitiveness of the rangatira class. The belittling of prestige or authority, termed takahi mana, has started many intertribal wars, as also has ridicule. By war one does not here mean such warfare as occurs among races of higher culture, but a series of annual raids conducted during the slack season, that is after the crops were planted.
As an illustration. In days of old a woman, named Koraria, chanced to be sitting outside the stockade of Puketapu, a fortified village at Te Teko. A party of a neighbouring clan chanced to pass by, and, seeing the woman sitting there in somewhat scant attire, one of the party laughed. That laugh desolated many lands. As my informant put it: “It caused the land to resound with the mourning of widows, it sent men flowing like water down to the spirit world, and left but the drifting birds on the Sea of Taupo.”
For, look you! Koraria replied to that laugh with an insulting expression. The laughers raised a force of the Awa folk and attacked Puketapu, slaying a number of persons. The Puketapu folk then attacked the Warahoe people, who had not injured them but were related to the Awa tribe. Warahoe retaliated by killing some of the Puketapu people, and the latter marched against Warahoe, took both their fortified vil-
tatau pounamu, the jade door, closed on the long-drawn strife. But the man who laughed at Koraria below the ramparts of Puketapu had sent hundreds of souls down to Rarohenga.
The Maori ever looked upon death in intertribal fighting as a perfectly natural and even desirable end. Many deemed it a fitter end than “death by the house wall.” The comfortless nature of native huts, and the treatment that sick persons were subjected to were certainly sufficient to cause man to desire death in battle. Man slaying, says the Maori, is one of man's most important activities, it is the umanga kapukapu, or umanga nui (the great game); better to die weapon in hand than by lingering sickness or old age.
There were different degrees as it were of fighting. Quarrels and even fighting among clans of a tribe over land disputes, riri whenua as it is termed, was a much less bitter and strenuous affair than fighting with another tribe. The term pakanga seems to be applied to the more serious forms of fighting. The seeking of blood vengeance for tribesmen slain in a treacherous manner produced the bitterest form of fighting. When bent on such serious expeditions it was imperative that the first person encountered, be he friend or foe, be slain. Such an incident is termed a maroro kokoti ihu waka, a flying fish crossing the bows of a canoe. It is a bad thing for the flying fish. We have, in our narrative, already scanned many causes of war, some of which could not possibly be foreseen.
The fashioning of implements from bones of enemies was one of many causes of war, and the fighting in such cases was very bitter. When living among the Tuhoe folk I found that they still had some bone spear points fashioned from bones of
We have seen that male children were often dedicated to the service of Tu, the supreme god of war, and that youths and young men were carefully and ceaselessly trained in the arts of war. We have many of the ritual formulæ recited over infants in order to endow them with courage, ability, and dexterity in the use of weapons. This was the Tohi of Tu, and a somewhat similar rite was performed over men prior to engaging in a fight.
In the school of arms called para-whakawai youths and young men were trained by the Ika a Whiro or tried warriors, masters of the art of hapai rakau, or bearing of arms. Commencing with light, harmless reeds, they were afterwards promoted to the use of wooden rods such as mako, and then perhaps to real spears with the points muffled so as to inflict no wound. The acquisition of the necessary skill in the use of several forms of weapons, and the ceaseless practice of the art of parrying and avoiding weapons, was no light task; it required long years of training. There were also many other things to be learned, charms, signs, omens, etc., all of which called for careful study and concentration on the part of young men.
The Maori mind is nothing if not metaphysical, and so he had evolved a mode of protecting his courage and ability in war from all evil influences that might weaken it. He would take the ahua or immaterial semblance of the desirable qualities of the men of a group, and convey it for safe keeping to some tapu or secret place. By means of a certain rite an expert would cause those qualities to be protected so that the owners would not be affected by the evils of hauhauaitu, pahunu, hinapo, tumatarehurehu, etc., all of which are extremely pernicious and dangerous to human life.
The conditions mentioned are the result of some transgression of the laws of tapu, that is to say of offences against the gods. Inasmuch as a person can commit such offences without being aware of it at the time, it follows that he never
pahunu, he is assailed by tumatarehurehu, he is afflicted by hinapo, and can no longer see the warning signs of the gods. The writer is inclined to think that Tu-mata-rehurehu (dim-eyed Tu) and Tu-matapongia (sightless Tu) are personified forms of this condition of hinapo.
Should men of a fighting force be afflicted by these evils it becomes necessary to remove them. This is done in a very simple manner; the afflicted person passes between the legs of the priest of the party, or those of a chief. If a woman is available, the sufferer will lie down and get her to step over him, or, as the Maori phrases it, he passes below her thighs. Both acts are effective, says the Maori. It is a result of the ancient belief in the extraordinary powers of the human organs of reproduction. In some cases the afflicted man just inserted his head between the limbs of the woman. We are also told that the apron or kilt of an influential woman was carried by an armed force in some cases, and a man afflicted by hauhauaitu would wrap it round his head, and let it remain there a few moments. We now see how useful was the usage of protecting the qualities of a person, as described above; it was a form of life insurance.
When a young man lifts his first war trail, he will secure some article belonging to the first man he kills, a weapon or garment, and present it to the priest of his own party, who will then perform over him a form of the Tohi rite. There was ever a tohunga or priest of some kind accompanying a raiding force, for many superstitions were observed in regard to war, and so the tohunga was deemed highly necessary. One of the chief tasks of such a functionary was to consult his atua, or familiar, with regard to a coming fight, and explain the result to the party. This is why the “chaplain” of the force was often in command of it.
It is unlucky for the members of a raiding force to eat standing; no matter how pushed for time they may be they must lay down their weapons and seat themselves when partaking of food. The moon and stars were closely scanned for signs or omens prior to engaging in a fight. If a fortified village were to be attacked then the moon represented that village. Any star near it would be taken as representing the attacking force; auguries were derived from the relative positions of star and moon. The writer had for years in his camp an old native who had fought against the Imperial troops at Orakau. He told me that when the Tuhoe contingent reached the scene of the fighting, they saw a favourable omen for an attacking force in the positions of a star and the moon. But they heedlessly constructed a redoubt at Orakau, and let the Pakeha (European) force attack them there, wherefor of course they were defeated. He concluded: “The fort fell, but it was our own fort, and we fell with it.”
We have seen that Tu is the principal being representing war; he personifies war and bloodshed. At the same time, whenever fighting was toward the Maori always selected one of the minor war gods, beings of the third or fourth class, to fight under. The force was under the mana and tapu of Tu, but that superior being is not a directing expert, that is the duty of the minor atua, perhaps Maru, or Uenuku, or some other personified form of natural phenomena. Or the atua employed might be a fourth-class one, a mere familiar, the spirit of a deceased relative of its medium, such as Te Rehu-o-tainui, already described.
When actually engaged in fighting the Maori was almost naked. He had to be, for he had no sleeved garment to cover the upper part of his body. He had to discard his upper garment in order to gain freedom of action. A long kilt would also be too much in his eyes, so he either shortened his kilt or donned a small apron-like garment termed a maro. This was secured round his waist by a belt called a tu or tatua, sometimes whitiki. Occasionally a thick, closely-woven cloak termed a pauku and pukupuku was worn as a protection against spears, but it was so secured as to leave the arms free. An important ritual formula connected with war was styled maro
taua or war apron. When performing the war dance the very scantiest apology for garments was worn.
No large supplies of food were carried by a raiding party, for it always reckoned to find food in an enemy country, and indeed often subsisted on the enemy himself. Fern root, already described, was a favoured food for journeys, and something was generally picked up by the way.
It is doubtful if any battle of magnitude ever took place in old Maori days. The intertribal wars consisted of a series of raids. The greatest losses would occur when a fortified village was taken, and that would not be a common occurrence. When such a place was taken the result would probably be, not a fight, but a massacre.
Women occasionally took part in fighting, and also accompanied raiding parties; even children were sometimes taken on such expeditions, a most extraordinary act from our point of view. The writer has obtained interesting notes on raids made on the Wairoa tribes in the “twenties” and “thirties” of last century from two old women who, as children, accompanied bands of Tuhoe raiders. Women accompanied the Tuhoe contingent that marched to Waikato in 1864 to assist in the fighting against Imperial troops. Several of these women were killed in the siege of Orakau.
Some of the old sayings pertaining to war are of interest. The following are specimens of these pepeha, or whakatauki, as such proverbial expressions are termed:—
“
Tini te whetu, iti te pokeao”—A multitude of stars may be obscured by a small dark cloud. Even so may a small party of resolute men accomplish much in war.“
Nga rakau mata rua a Tu-matauenga”—The double-edged weapons of the war god. Applied to such weapons as are used for both thrusting and striking.“
Ka moe te mata hi tuna; ka ara te mata hi taua”—The eyes of the eel fisher close, but the eyes of a watchman are open. This includes an illustration of the playing upon words so much appreciated by the Maori; one fishes for eels, the other for a hostile force.“
He toa taua, mate taua; he toa piki pari, mate pari; he toa ngaki kai, ma te huhu tena”—A warrior dies in battle, a cragsman on a cliff, but a food cultivator of old age.“
He iti na Tuhoe e kata te Po”—A few of Tuhoe shall make the world of death laugh. The small raiding parties of the Tuhoe folk achieved fame.“
He urunga tangata, he urunga panekeneke”—A human pillow is a slippery pillow. Do not depend too much on others, but rely on the strength of your own arm.
A significant old saying is this: “The sleep of a bird in a tree top is sound, but uneasy is that of man who ever dreads an attack.”
A saying of one of our old officers of the Native Contingent struck the writer as being neat; it was: “Death is a permanent garment of the warrior.”
Ika-a-Whiro denotes a tried warrior; arero whero the “red tongues,” the ordinary fighting man; ati-a-toa the young men not yet thoroughly proved. These are special or honorific terms; the ordinary term for a staunch fighter is toa. Contemptuous expressions such as to-kumu and pirorehe are applied to laggards those who show cowardice.
If there was one quality more highly cultivated by the Maori than that of revenge the writer has yet to learn of it. To avenge insults, wrongs, etc., was considered to be one of the most important duties of man. Hence it was that a slight mishap might develop into a feud, and that feud might continue for generations. The duty of squaring accounts with any tribe that had slain a tribesman was ceaselessly impressed upon young folk. These feuds often meant the dispatch of raiding forces until the account was settled, but winter and spring were, as a rule, peaceful times. The duty and recreation of guerilla fighting was postponed until the crops had been planted. By the time an account was deemed squared the other side probably held that it was more than square, and they would busy themselves in equalising it, and so the feud was continued.
When a force was defeated a peculiar rite was sometimes performed in order to avenge the disaster by means of black magic. In this dread act the souls of enemies are said to be “cooked” or destroyed, and their weapons rendered harmless. Some very singular acts were performed by the Maori in order to avenge a reverse, or a slain tribesman, or at least to equalise
moari.
Another extraordinary act sometimes performed was explained to me by Tutakangahau of Tuhoe, a man possessed of much old-time lore. A people might be defeated by a force of another tribe. The stricken ones would set to work and fashion a new war canoe, a work of some years. When finished a war party would man the vessel and set off to visit the territory of the enemy. On their arrival there they would lie off shore, broadside on to the coastline, and cause the canoe to rock to and fro sideways. This over, the party returned home; the account was squared. The Rev.
The extraordinary acts credited to the Maori above may have been prompted by a feeling that the community was not strong enough to avenge its defeat by force of arms.
In some cases a defeat was equalised by means of singing a song, which reminds one of the top-spinning and similar acts. When the Arawa folk were defeated by Tuhoe at Puke-kai-kahu, the widows of the slain chiefs composed a bitter song reviling the slayers of their husbands. Then four hundred Arawa warriors escorted these widows into the heart of the rugged forest-clad Tuhoe district. On arriving at the principal village at Taumata o Te Riu they formed up before its stockades and performed a furious posture dance as they roared forth the incisive words of the song. And Tuhoe said:
The bereaved women desired to greet the heads of their husbands that had been secured by Tuhoe. So some of the latter folk carried those heads down from the fort, and the widows wept over them and greeted them. Then, without a blow being struck on either side, the Arawa force drew out and commenced the long march homeward to the Land of Boiling Waters, the Rotorua district. Now the sequel to this story is also of some interest. Shortly after the departure of the Arawa, the Tama-kai-moana clan of Tuhoe arrived from its rugged home on the Rocky Mountain. These folk decided to follow and attack the retiring Arawa. Their tribesmen strongly objected to this course, explaining that peace had been made with the Arawa. But the turbulent “Dogs of Pohokorua” declined to listen to objections; they pursued the visitors and attacked them, receiving for their pains a severe defeat, and losing about forty men. That fight occurred generations ago, but one yet hears the treacherous act referred to and condemned among the Tuhoe bushmen.
When a certain chief of Tuhoe had his little joke with Tama-riwai, he little thought of the blood that would flow in consequence. At a tribal feast he called out: “O Tama! Here is a fine morsel for us two. You may look at it while I eat it.” To tell of the fighting that the remark led to would be a long tale, for many people went down to Hades to pay for the jest.
Stories of old-time feuds and fights of the Maori folk reveal instances of ferocity, savagery and treachery that Germans or Sinn Feiners alone might equal, but, unlike those folk, the Maori was also capable of acting in a chivalrous and magnanimous manner, as we have already seen. For example, when Tuhoe were about to attack a fortified village near Galatea, some proposed that the place be attacked under cover of darkness. But the leading chief, The Dark Heavens, said: “Am I a slave that I should take such an advantage. We will tarry until the sun's rays gleam on Tawhiuau. The hill that looks down on old Fort Galatea and the plain of Kuhawaea.
Occasionally, when it was proposed to raise a force in order to avenge a wrong, a special house was built for the purpose of deliberation. Representatives of the various clans would assemble to discuss the matter. Such a house was called a whare ngakau.
Owing to intertribal warfare some tribes have entirely disappeared as separate communities, the remnants having been incorporated with more powerful bodies. Weak tribes sometimes existed in a condition of vassalage. The general movement of defeated and weakened tribes was southward. The northern parts of the North Island carried the greatest population because agriculture alone permitted of close settlement, and the sub-tropical cultivated food products of the Maori flourished better in the north. Thus the prolific north sent many peoples southward, often fleeing from the wrath to come, or the wrath that had come. Broken tribes were pushed across Cook Straits into the South Island, which has even been a refuge for such peoples. Thus it was that, even far south in Otago and Southland, are evidences of prolonged occupation. No warmth-loving folk such as the Polynesians would have settled down there, in a land where no food could be cultivated, unless it were a matter of stern necessity.
Among a turbulent, virile and warlike people like the oldtime Maori, a man possessed of the qualities necessary in savage warfare would come to the front and make a name for himself. Many such cases are on record, and a commoner or sub-chief might acquire an important position in a tribe by his abilities as a director of raiding operations. Since the advent of Europeans the names of such famed leaders as Hongi, Te Waharoa, Taraia and Te Rau-paraha have been familiar to all. During our late unpleasantness in the “sixties” the sub-chief
As a result of exogamous marriages there were always taharua, or two-sided persons dwelling in all communities. This term is applied to persons related to two tribes; if a man's father and mother belonged to different tribes he would be a taharua. The Maori sometimes consented to betroth
taura (cords) to pull that other tribe their way when assistance was needed in war.
A taharua was, naturally, often caught fighting against his own relatives, and such persons were often spared when captured. When forces belonging to two tribes were engaged in fighting it was no uncommon occurrence for taharua to pass between the two parties. They often gave most harmful information, which act the Maori scarcely seemed to think worthy of punishment. Taharua also often gave information regarding projected raids, and sometimes performed very singular acts. In one case I was told of a man living at the Wairoa was also a member of the Tuhoe tribe. When the people of the Wairoa raided the Tuhoe district they resolved to slay a certain chief of that place. Now the man of “two sides” was also a kopu-rua, that is he was in sympathy with both the tribes to which he belonged. He therefore accompanied the raiders and, when these captured the aforesaid chief, the taharua sprang forward and himself slew his relative. His object was to save the man from degradation, and to spare the feelings of his relatives. The fact of that man being killed by a relative saved the situation. The Tuhoe folk would not look upon him as an enemy, but rather as a friend and benefactor.
A similar case occurred when one of our Native Contingent forces captured some hostiles of rank. The men hesitated to kill them, but their native officer said: “They are relatives of mine, I will attend to them,” which he at once did by shooting them. When expostulated with by a European officer, he remarked: “Well, they are my own relatives. Who should kill them if not myself?” Many singular stories could be related of the Maori and his practices in war. It was apparently his delight to perform what we would deem to be the most fantastic acts.
The Maori employed various modes of fighting in days of old. He was an adept in the arts of scouting, of ambuscades, and that of patoi or luring an enemy on to his ruin. He possessed great powers of endurance, as when besieged in one of his fortified villages. If well led by men of stand-
mana in the ranks of the enemy was a much more serious matter. He had, however, some serious weaknesses. The loss of his leaders often made for a debacle, and always superstition was liable to seriously affect his courage and fighting stamina. An unlucky omen might well turn the day against him. Another matter that might lead to disaster was the placing of important powers of control in the hands of the priestly medium of the particular atua under whom the force was conducting its operations.
The Maori was fond of inducing that kind of Dutch courage that proceeds from the performance of a furious war dance. The long-drawn misery of continued trench warfare would have disgusted him. He would simply have rolled up his swag and gone home. Raiding and fighting were pleasing exercises between crop planting and crop lifting, but still the serious matters of life must be attended to at the proper times!
The influence and power of tried and trusted chiefs was remarkable, in war time and at all other times. Many a panic or flight has been stopped by such men. At such a time a respected chief had but to say: “I retreat no further. Let me die here on my own land,” and his followers would rally round him and fight on.
When desirous of taking a fortified village a muchfavoured plan was to send a small body of men forward to show itself before the fort, in the hope of luring the defenders into an ambuscade (kokoti moe roa). Such a luring party is termed a hunuhunu, and sometimes patoi and poa. The term manukawhaki has practically the same meaning. To unmask an ambush is expressed by the term hurahura kokoti. A false retreat is termed takiri.
The following terms describe different modes of fighting and conducting operations, etc.:—
Riri pakipaki means to surround in fighting, a favoured procedure among bush-dwelling tribes. The toka tu moana explains itself, as it means “sea standing rock,” the force makes a stand and allows the waves to dash against it as they will. Whakarau rakau really means a separation of the force into small units to harass the foe and retreat if pressed to meet again at some pre-arranged place. This was a muchfavoured movement with pursued parties; it was often practised against the Government forces in the “sixties.” The kawau māro denotes a compact body of men prepared to charge in mass. The name is derived from the action of a cormorant (kawau), when about to take flight it straightens and stiffens its long neck. An old saying: “Ka māro te kaki o te kawau” (The neck of the cormorant is stiff) means that a person or party is about to move on.
The peculiar mode of advance called kaikape is advisable when moving through a specially dangerous area where cover is plentiful, as forest or scrub lands. The main body is preceded by a party of scouts (toro, tutai), and ahead of these are two kiore (rats), on whom the strain comes. Hence they are frequently relieved. Two of the scout band will go forward, take up the trying task, while the former two fall back.
An armed force on the war path is termed a taua and whakaariki. Such a force would contain plenty of good scouts, but there was often one superlatively shrewd person termed the mata taua, who represented the eyes of the force. He would be a man of very observant nature, possessing keen insight, a reader of men's faces and men's minds. For example: A party of Tuhoe was crossing the Huiarau range to visit their friends at the Star Lake. Near the summit they met a man on his way to Rua-tahuna. The mata taua looked at the man, and, turning to his chief, said: “Kua mate a Waikare” (Waikare has fallen), meaning that their friends at the
The party proceeded on its way and a little further on met some escapees from the lake, who cried: “We are no more. Nought remains save the drifting waters of Waikare.” For the Ruapani tribe had attacked the Tuhoe settlement, and the waters of the lake were reddened with the blood of women and children. Even so Tuhoe rose in grief and anger, and gleaming signal fires called up the Dogs of Pohokorua and the Child of Tamatea from the outlands of the Canyon of Toi and the scattered bush hamlets—and the end was not well for the Sons of Ruapani.
Ere forming up our kawau maro for the war dance it were well to see what weapons we are to be provided with, and these, be it remembered, were the weapons employed by the neolithic Maori in the long centuries that lie behind. A Maori was never parted long from his weapons, he carried at least one wherever he might be, for truly no man knew the moment it might be needed.
The generic term for weapons is rakau. The expression hapai rakau means to bear arms, and the phrase rakau kawa denotes a man skilled in the use of weapons, whose every blow is effective, a man who does not waste his strength.
The weapons of the Maori were fashioned from wood, stone and bone. They may be divided into thrusting, striking, and projectile weapons. The last of these formed but a pitiful showing, being confined to occasional spear throwing, and stones thrown by hand. A few of the striking weapons were occasionally used as thrusting weapons also, but as a rule in manipulating such implements as the taiaha, pouwhenua and tewhatewha, the Maori utilised the point merely in feinting.
We commence with our list of thrusting weapons, for the spear was a much-favoured weapon with the old-time Maori, who took a keen interest in spear exercises.
Of many of these forms we have no detailed description, and as names of weapons often differed in different districts, it is probable that some of the above names are duplicate terms.
The huata is a long spear, the longest weapon used by the Maori; only the long bird spears excelled it in length. We will put its length at about eighteen feet; some were longer. The writer has seen one 24ft. in length. It was used in the attack on, and defence of, fortified places, being thrust through the apertures of the stockade, or downward from fighting stages and high ramparts. It was also styled a hoata. It was usually fashioned from the straight-grained wood of the white manuka, a hardwood much employed in the manufacture of spears. It has a knob on the butt end called the reke, koreke, and purori. Among the Tuhoe this long spear is called the long huata (huata roa); their huata poto or short huata is the much shorter spear termed tao by many tribes, but which name Tuhoe apply to bird spears only.
This long spear was occasionally used in fighting in the open, in which case it required two men to manipulate it. One grasped the spear near the butt end and did the thrusting, the other took his station well forward and formed a rest for the spear with his curved hands. Such is the description of its use in the open as given to the writer, who, however, is by no means clear as to the advantage gained by the use of such a cumbrous weapon in the open, nor does he desire the post of acting as a rest for it. Some tribes styled this weapon a taoroa (long tao).
A term employed to denote a spear with a barbed point was kaniwha, but the word simply means a barb, or barbed.
A spear with a detachable point was called a katete, and the point itself was known by the same name, as also was a piece joined to a spear shaft in order to lengthen it. Such a spear is also termed an ahao and tete. The point was also known as a matarere. The tete paraoa was a wooden spear having a barbed point fashioned from whale's bone secured to it. The tete whai,
tara whai, or hoto whai is a spear that has the spike tail of a stingray lashed to the head as a point; a terrible weapon. Whai is the native name of the stingray; its tail is called hoto whai and tara whai. Rakau hoto is yet another name for this weapon.
The point of a spear is called tara or mata. A barbed point is kaniwha or tara kaniwha. Tara rautahi denotes a spear with a single point, and tara waharua a double-pointed spear. The latter might be termed simply a tararua (two-pointed). Kawau denotes the shaft of a spear, and the handle of a spade.
A form of dagger, fashioned from wood or bone, was occasionally used by the Maori; it was called an oka and tete. The former word means “to stab,” but the latter carries no such meaning, and it seems probable that a dagger was so called because the first ones used were detachable heads of spears. Tete is a form of the word katete, which means to lengthen by adding a piece.
A curious custom of olden times consisted of the sprinkling of water on the point of a spear prior to engaging in fighting. At the same time a charm was recited over the weapon. This would be one of the charms that come under the head of hoa rakau, of which more anon. It was also a native custom to place spears wholly under water prior to a fight, so as to render them pliant, and also tough, or less brittle.
In an old narrative mention is made of a matarua or double-pointed spear, the points being fashioned from whale's bone. The name of purau was sometimes applied to these double-pointed spears. Banks tells us that spears were grasped by the middle when the wielders were fighting, “so that the end which hangs behind, serving as a balance to keep the front steady, makes it much more difficult to parry a push from one of them.”
The form of spear having the tail of a stingray as a point was used in many parts of the Pacific. Spears with barbed points (kaniwha, katara) were not so much used by the Maori as the plain pointed spear. Also as a rule he preferred his spear formed in one piece; those with detachable heads did not represent a common usage. Notched spear points of whale's bone (taraiwi pakake) were occasionally used, lashed
ahao was applied to these spears with detachable heads by a member of the Porou tribe; it has not been recorded. They are also styled ore. Tufts of dog's hair were sometimes attached to the part where the head was lashed on. Spear points were in some cases fashioned from mapara, the hard, resinous wood sometimes seen in white pine.
To use a spear as a striking weapon does not seem like an orthodox procedure, and yet the short spear was sometimes so manipulated by the Maori. What advantage this procedure possessed over the thrust in such cases I cannot say. The spear exercise of the Maori was a remarkable one, and constant practice rendered him an expert with the weapon. Each mode of using it had its special name, as in bayonet exercise. The method termed kuku-a-mata was a short arm grip, the spear being held under the right arm, point lowered. From this position the wielder would be ready to parry a thrust or to deliver one at the stomach of his opponent.
In the procedure termed komutu the spearsman makes a feint thrust (whakakoemi) at his adversary, who will endeavour to parry it, believing it to be a home thrust. No. 1 may thus be able to recover arms and deliver his point. In the takurangi the spearsman holds his weapon point at a high angle, ready to parry thrust or blow, ere delivering his point. The wiri waewae is marked by a low guard and much feinting, and the wha raupo by a defiant and apparently careless exhibition of agility. The spearsman capers about, holding his weapon in one hand, ever watching for an opportunity to commence business. Piki, marangai and rapa are terms for other movements in spear exercise.
Judge Maning wrote as follows of the spear exercise: “The attack and the defence are in the highest degree scientific; the spear shafts keep up a continuous rattle; the thrust and parry, and stroke with the spear shaft follow each other with almost incredible rapidity, and are too rapid to be followed by an unpractised eye.”
The wood of the white manuka (kahikatoa) was valued for spear making; and maire was sometimes used, but the latter called for more work. Heart of black hinau was occasionally used. Colenso states that spears were sometimes fashioned from rimu or red pine. The largest spears were not over one and a-half inches in thickness in the middle. The ordinary fighting spear (tao) is a marvel of slimness, and of no weight; ever the Maori held to light weapons.
The straight-grained kahikatoa saved the Maori much labour in spear-making; he could split long logs of that timber into four or more pieces from which spears could be fashioned. These pieces were carefully hewn with stone adzes, trimmed with light tools of the same form grasped in one hand, scraped with flakes of stone, rubbed with a piece of sandstone, and polished by rubbing with a hard substance or by being rubbed on the trunk of a tree fern. The final process was one of oiling. Spear points were hardened in fire.
The various modes of using the huata spear on the east coast are termed awhi-papa, amo, whitiapu, ahei, pitongitongi, hiki and kuku-a-mata. The third, fourth and sixth of these modes also pertained to the tokotoko, together with the takiwhenua and kotuku. In many cases spear shafts were quite plain, occasionally a small band of some carved design encircled the shaft at some part where it would not interfere with the handling of the weapon.
After the arrival of Europeans bayonets came to be used for spear points, the old-fashioned triangular bayonets of past days.
The torowai or tewhatewha was used as a thrusting weapon, but with no intention of killing an opponent, for it was not brought to a sharp point. It gave him, however, something to think of while the torowai man was reversing and delivering his blow.
Striking weapons may be divided into one-handed and two-handed forms, which come under the generic term of patu. The following is a list of such striking weapons as were wielded in both hands:—
The taiaha was looked upon as the most important of these two-handed striking weapons, and it was the one in most common use. In native warfare each man carried two weapons as a rule, a long and a short one. The former would be either a spear or one of the striking weapons enumerated above, or, possibly, a hoeroa; the short weapon would be a one-handed implement such as are usually termed patu.
The illustrations show the form of the taiaha. One before me is 5ft. 8in. in length; some are longer. One end, the striking end or blade (rau) is flat and thin, 2in. wide near the extremity and ¼in. in thickness. This flat blade gradually merges into the hand grip shaft, which is oval in cross section, and terminates in the arero or flat end formed in the shape of a tongue. This tongue is adorned with finely executed carving in curvilinear designs. At the base of the tongue-like point is another design in relief that resembles a grotesque head furnished with elongated eyes of countersunk pieces of Haliotis shell. The disproportionately large tongue issues from the mouth of this head, leaving no space for the chin, which is dispensed with. A few projections represent the teeth. This semi-human face is double, being carved on both sides. At its thickest part the shaft is but 1in. in width and ⅞in. in thickness; it is somewhat smaller in the middle. Its weight is one pound! and to this slim, light, apparently fragile weapon the Maori not only entrusted his life, but also had perfect self-confidence when facing his enemy. Heavy weapons he would not use. The material of the light specimen described is a dense grained hardwood of great strength known as manuka or kahikatoa (Leptospermum ericoides). Little fear of the weapon breaking, slim as it is.
These weapons were adorned with a band of bright red feathers fastened round the shaft just below the carved head. These were the feathers from beneath the wing of the kaka parrot fastened neatly on to a woven strip of material. This
tauri kura; a taiaha so adorned is a taiaha kura. Small tufts of long white dog's hair were secured just below the red band as an additional ornament.
In combat the taiaha was usually held with the point or tongue downward. The wielder might give his opponent the point, but merely to reverse and deliver a blow with the blade end, the blow being struck with the edge of the blade. The following are other modes of using this weapon:—
Popotahi
Whakarehu
Whitiapu
Huanui
The taiaha was much used as a baton, as, for example, when a man was making a speech at a meeting of the people. Cook termed this weapon a halbert. The protruding tongue presumably denotes defiance. The shafts were very highly polished, and old specimens have a slightly rippled surface produced by scraping with sharp-edged stone flakes or shells in the process of manufacture. In the Grey Collection, Auckland Museum, are two taiaha about 8ft. in length.
Colonel Mundy placed on record an interesting account of a passage at arms that took place between an old chief named The Taniwha, then over eighty years of age, and a British officer. The latter was armed with a singlestick, his opponent with a taiaha. Two officers having a bout with singlesticks attracted the old man's attention. Here let the Colonel take up the tale: “Scrambling up on his long, bent shanks, for in figure he was not unlike a grasshopper, he approached the mimic combatants, and, as the bout increased in warmth, so the old man's excitement increased… After two or three very stiff capers he hobbled away to his canoe, and, snatching out of it a long and heavy taiaha … again
taiaha through the same hand, gave his opponent the point, the stoccato alighting on his ribs with an emphasis quite sufficient to prove that, had the tourney occurred twenty years ago, and been a l'outrance, the white knight would have been—done brown and supped upon.”
The pouwhenua resembles the taiaha, save that it has no tongue, that end being brought to a thick point. It also resembles the Easter Island club called ua. A native of the east coast has stated that those specimens having an encircling carved band a foot or so from the point, were termed kaukau. A bone specimen possessed by the late Colonel Gudgeon was about four feet in length; a bone specimen was always a rarity. Two specimens in the Auckland Museum have abnormally wide blades. It was not so commonly employed as the taiaha, and carried no adornment of hair or feathers.
The tewhatewha is four to five feet in length. As the illustration shows, it resembles an axe in form. The most highly favoured material from which to fashion this weapon was a root of the maire tree, one of our hardest and strongest timbers, hence one of its names (paiaka=a root). The small end was used in delivering the point, but the common usage was to strike a blow, not with the edge of the blade, but with the thick back of it. A small hole pierced in the lower part of the blade served for the suspension of a bunch of feathers (primaries with rachis removed) of the pigeon or hawk. This dangling bunch of feathers was used to disconcert an opponent, being flicked across his eyes by a quick movement of the weapon, so as to give the paiaka weilder time to deliver a blow. In combat this weapon was held point downward. Be it observed that upward blows were struck only with short one handed weapons.
In some districts this peculiar weapon is called a wahaika, which is disconcerting, for the name is also applied to a short patu. A little carving sometimes appeared on the tewhatewha, those elaborately carved were used as ceremonial implements only, as in the case of paddles. The handle is round, and
In using all these weapons in actual combat the Maori fighter never stood still; he was eternally jumping about and twirling or quivering his weapon, watching keenly for an opening all the while. He also made many passes and feints.
In the decoration of weapons with feathers, the prepared feathers were tied together at the base in small bunches termed putoi, and a number of these were bunched together at their bases and secured, this being called a puhipuhi. In preparing these feathers for such uses they are soaked in water, then the web is stripped from the shaft but with a portion of it still attached to the web, which now loses the rigidity imparted by the rachis.
The name of huakau was applied to any roughly fashioned wooden striking weapon, any hastily made specimen, or perchance to an unworked piece of timber employed as a club.
The kakau-roa is another form that does not call for any lengthy description, inasmuch as it is a modern post-European implement. It consists of the old fashioned triangular blade trade tomahawk furnished with a long handle of hardwood. Short handled ones were known as patiti.
The kakau-roa, a term that means “long handled,” was occasionally used as a thrusting weapon. It could scarcely be termed a piercing point, but an energetic thrust would be extremely disconcerting to the subject, and also give the manipulator time to reverse arms and deliver a blow with the blade. This long handled tomahawk was also used at Samoa and in Northern Australia. Specimens in the Auckland Museum from New Britain and New Ireland have the butt end of the handle expanded and adorned with carved designs and paint.
Specimens of these weapons in the Dominion Museum have handles ranging from 45in. to 60in. in length. The hardwood handles are well fashioned, highly polished, and the handgrip is ovoid in section. Some handles bear a carved design near the blade, some have a carved encircling band about onethird of the length from the rear or butt end. The owners
We now come to the short striking weapons used with one hand, which come under the generic name of patu. These were fashioned from wood, stone and bone. In modern times patu have been occasionally fashioned from a piece of iron. Strictly speaking, all striking weapons come under the term patu; in actual every-day use the term is often used to denote the short weapons about to be described. We will classify these patu as follows:—
Commencing with the stone forms we have to deal with the most highly-valued weapon of Maoriland, the greenstone truncheon, a short broad-bladed weapon called mere, patu pounamu and rakau pounamu. In some districts mere was applied to this greenstone weapon only, as among the Tuhoe folk; in others it was also applied to certain bone and wooden weapons. In these latter cases a qualifying expression is necessary after the term, as mere pounamu= greenstone mere. The form of greenstone sought for these weapons was the true nephrite, which, in Moh's scale, is given as being somewhat harder than steel, the proportion being 6 and 6½.
Early writers have told us that the mere in form resembles a battledore, a beaver's tail, and a soda water bottle flattened.
The greenstone mere was always made much thinner than those fashioned from ordinary stone, on account of the toughness of the stone—nephrite is not of a brittle nature; it is broken with difficulty. Thus it lacks the gradual increase in thickness from point to butt that imparts such a symmetrical aspect to the patu onewa. The blade (rau) is brought to a fine edge at the broad end and sides, and in outline the implement is certainly symmetrical. Its manufacture, largely consisting of grinding by rubbing on sandstone, was a very slow and laborious process. The block of stone was cut into a rough outline first by means of a sawing process with pieces of quartzite, or other hard stone, used with a hard sand triturant and water. Nephrite does not lend itself to chipping.
The knob or protuberant part of the butt end is the purori, or whakawhiti, or reke, and Williams gives kikiroki as the name of the graven ornamental ridges running round the protuberance. A hole bored in the butt end accommodated the wrist cord, tau and patui, which was usually a strip of dogskin. Greenstone implements were finished as to surface dressing by being rubbed on fine sandstone, and then with a piece of hard and smooth stone.
The mere was used apparently in two ways, or, as a Maori would say, for patu and tipi, striking and thrusting. It is
tipi, but some old natives have stated that blows were sometimes struck with the side of it. The tough nephrite would permit of this patu or striking use. A favoured blow was to drive the thin end of the blade into the thin part of the skull at the side of the head by means of the tipi or endwise thrust. It is said that experts, by a turn of the wrist, would then wrench the skull open. The statement made by Yate that persons were decapitated with the mere is an exaggeration.
A greenstone mere of medium size now before me is 14in. in length, 3¾in. wide at its widest part, about ½in. thick at the handgrip, whence it tapers off gradually to the thin outer end of the blade. It weighs 1¼lbs. One weighing 2lbs. would be deemed a large one, showing that Thomson's weight of 6lbs. cannot be accepted.
It is on record that, on one of Captain Cook's later voyages, he brought out some brass weapons fashioned in the form of the mere, he having noted how that weapon was prized. I am not aware that any of these brass patu are to be met with nowadays.
Shortland describes a mere twenty inches in length and four inches wide across the blade. This length is abnormal, and one can but think that it would be a cumbrous weapon to use with one hand. Cook gives the length as about eighteen inches, but that would be unusually long. An unusually small one examined was 10½in. in length, and fashioned from the stone of speckled appearance called wharauroa (not nephrite). It is an old implement, and is said to have been used, not as a weapon, but as a baton by women leaders of posture dances.
The Maori had a curious partiality for being slain with a lordly weapon. Cases are recorded wherein a captive has made a request that he be killed with a greenstone patu. If the captor was a man of manners, a true chieftain, he would, if circumstances permitted, accede to the request.
These weapons of mere form were fashioned in stone and bone, but for some reason the shape did not seem to appeal to the makers of wooden weapons. Natives inform us that an able man armed with a short patu would often defeat a man
taiaha. In some cases a man using the short weapon would have on his left arm, or in his hand, a form of pad termed a whakapuru, on which to receive the impact of a thrusting weapon.
These short weapons were carried stuck in the belt or suspended from the wrist by the thong, sometimes on the left wrist, so as to be concealed by the cloak. Prized short weapons were sometimes concealed when not likely to be required. When the writer bought one from a native many years ago the owner took him some miles off into the forest and unearthed the implement at the base of a tree. Spears, etc., were kept in the dwelling houses, for no man knew the moment they might be wanted. When so wanted it was often in a hurry. They were suspended on the left side of the house, as you enter. Thus, in case of a sudden alarm, as an inmate ran for the door, he grasped his spear with his right hand as he ran forward, and so drew it from its supports. Moreover, as he emerged from the house the spear was on his right side and ready for business. The Maori ever kept a weapon right handy—he had to.
The patu onewa closely resembles the greenstone patu in outline, but is much thicker, the material being so much more easily broken. Onewa is a kind of greywacke apparently; it is of a dark colour, and lends itself to smoothing and polishing processes, as also to chipping. Most specimens are marvels of symmetry, and are fine examples of native workmanship, and proof of the keen, true eye of the Maori artisan. It is said that stone found under water was preferred by makers of this weapon. If the material was obtained from a boulder or outcrop on the land then the outer parts of the same were discarded. The surface of a rock mass would be shattered by means of fire and water, cold water being dashed on the heated rock surface. Suitable stone was sometimes found in river beds in the form of boulders.
The patu onewa seems to have been also known as patu kurutai. The following is a description of a good specimen found in a cave some years ago. Length 16⅝in. Width of blade at widest part 4in., at handgrip 1⅜in. Thickness at handgrip 1 3/16 in., from which part it decreases evenly in thickness to the
kara by the Maori. Looked at in any way it seems to be the perfection of symmetry, no slight irregularity of outline, curve, or bevel is discernible. The gradual tapering from reke (butt) to blade end, the merging of the rounded handgrip into the expanded, flattened blade, as also into the two fine longitudinal edges, the rounding off of the blade transversely, the curve of the broad blade end the precise regularity of the grooves on the butt, the fine even, smooth, polished surface, all proclaim it a marvel of accuracy and symmetry, a masterpiece from the hand of the neolithic artisan.
A smaller specimen is 13½in. long, 3½in. wide at the broadest part, thickness at handgrip 1⅛in., whence it tapers off; weight, 2⅛lbs. The hole pierced for the wrist cord is of the usual double crater form.
Thomson remarks that the patu is a wooden weapon not unlike a violin. Now most patu are very much unlike a violin: he must have been thinking of the kotiate form, which was usually fashioned in bone.
The peculiar billhook-shaped stone implements of the Chatham Isles, sometimes termed okewa, fashioned from micaceous schist, do not seem to have been well finished as to the surface. A form of stone club, called a pohatu taharua, is credited to the same folk. Some stone clubs of somewhat
miti has been given to this form, though a remark made by Captain Cook seems to identify the miti with the mere. Canon Stack stated that a South Island stone club resembling a fern root pounder in form, was called a kauri. This may have been the name of the kind of stone from which it was fashioned, as in the case of onewa. One of these stone clubs examined was 19½in. in length, and averaged 3¼in. in width in its widest part.
A well-made specimen of the miti or stone club is 20½in. in length; it is a much rounded form. Its greatest width is 2⅜in., and thickness 1⅜in.—an uncommon form. It has no enlarged reke or butt end, but two small, horn-like protuberances at that part, and two similar ones, one on either side, near the middle of the implement, thus reminding one of the traditional patu tawaka.
A stone patu of unusual and somewhat uncouth form is from the South Island. It resembles a short-handled spade in form, the blade being almost rectangular. The two pronounced shoulders bounding the handgrip give it a most un-Maori-like appearance. Its length is 10½in., thickness 1⅜in. at the handgrip, tapering somewhat to the outer end of the blade. Its surface is rough, like that of Chatham Island implements, and looks as though the final process had been one of “bruising” with a stone hammer in order to reduce asperities. Weight, 2½lbs. Some curiously rough forms of stone implements, presumably weapons, have been found in the South Island, types not found in the North Island. The Maori of the North would have held such rude forms in contempt.
A peculiar club-like stone implement found in the Marlborough district is in the possession of Mr.
A somewhat similar implement examined was 19½in. in length, 3¼in. wide, and 1½in. thick.; weight, 6¼lbs.; material argillite. The reduced handgrip is but 4in. long; assuredly a cumbrous implement. It could scarcely have been a war implement.
The toki pou tangata, or toki hohoupu, is yet another onehanded stone weapon to be discussed. It is essentially an adze; a long, thin blade, almost invariably of greenstone (nephrite), hafted adzewise. These blades are much thinner than those used as hewing tools, though of late years we have seen the latter hafted as pou tangata, usually to beguile the trusting Pakeha.
As a rule the handle of a pou tangata adze is about eleven inches in length, of which the “shoe” or part to which the blade is attached is adorned with carving. A carved design may also be seen on the butt end of the handle. White dog's hair was sometimes attached to the head of this adze, as also red feathers of the bush parrot. The blades are seen up to ten inches in length, a few are somewhat longer. This implement was used as a weapon, as in dispatching an enemy stricken down with taiaha, spear, etc. It was also used in a ceremonial manner, as a form of baton, as was the mere. The reke or butt end of the handle (kakau) had the usual knob that is so useful to the wielder of an axe. In many cases a grotesque head appears on this part. On the other end a favoured design was a grotesque human figure carved on the projecting upper part and facing inward. This figure is represented as sitting on the upper or butt end of the stone adze blade lashed to the outer surface of the projection. A thumb cord seems to have been used with this implement, being attached to the butt end of the handle. The wrist cord was also used. A good illustration of a pou tangata adze appears in the plates pertaining to Cook's Voyages.
Of the short bone weapons, the most highly prized was perhaps the patu paraoa, a weapon fashioned from whale's bone in the form of the patu onewa. A good specimen before me is 16in. in length, 4¼in. wide across its widest part, which
patu in form and adornment. Thickness ⅞in. near the handgrip, tapering evenly to the end of the blade. Weight 1¾lbs. It is extremely symmetrical in form, is well finished, and has a smooth, polished surface. The butt end has the usual hole for the securing of the wrist cord.
The kotiate is another and very different form of bone patu. It suffers from the possession of the following names:
These different kinds of bone patu were used in three ways—for a downward blow, upward blow, and the tipi, or endwise thrust. In the case of the wahaika, the convex side is the striking edge. The singular lobate kotiate is remarkable on account of the two sinuses that are formed one on either side of it. Apparently these apertures are of no service, several reasons assigned for their existence are not credible. They are presumably for ornament, and probably represent an ancient usage preserved by the conservative Maori.
A specimen of these weapons measured is 13¼in. in length, 6¼in. wide at the widest part, which is 3in. from the end of the blade. In this case the sinuses are not open as usual, but are closed for a short space. Thickness at handgrip, ¾in., tapering to end of blade. The butt is carved into a grotesque head of singular form with protruding tongue. Weight, 1½lbs. Pierced for wrist cord.
A wooden kotiate 1ft. in length and carved all over save the handgrip with scroll designs, is one of many such modern specimens. These were not used as weapons but as batons by dance leaders, etc.
In the manufacture of these bone implements grinding on sandstone was one part of the process.
We have now another peculiar form of bone patu to scan, namely the wahaika or wahangohi, possibly so named from the curious sinus in the face.
This implement in form resembles somewhat an oldfashioned billhook, with the point at the end of the blade
Another wahaika, one of uncommon form, is 13in. long, 4½in. wide at the widest part, which is 3½in. from the outer end of the blade, and carries an abnormally large sinus 1½in. deep on what is apparently the back of the implement. It is 1in. thick, an unusual thickness, and has a head carved on both sides of the butt. An unusually wide and thick specimen. Weight, 1¼lbs.
This weapon is known in some parts as a rorehape. The sinus in the striking edge is not always in evidence. It was sometimes fashioned from hardwood.
Many of the so-called wooden weapons of the patu type seen in collections are of modern manufacture, and many of them would be useless as weapons.
Short wooden weapons were not much favoured by the native fighter; he preferred stone or bone as a material for short striking weapons. Curiously enough the form of the patu onewa does not appear to have appealed to the Maori in wood. I have not seen an old specimen of pre-European days. If employed, they must have been rare. A few of modern make are seen in collections. The term meremere is applied to them, as it is also to other wooden forms. Wooden patu are also termed mere rakau and patu rakau. I have heard kotiate and wahaika called meremere. Tumere seems to equal meremere. Ake rautangi (Dodonæa) was a favoured wood for the manufacture of these forms. An old native of much knowledge applied the term meremere to a form of wooden wahaika. In one case a short wooden club was styled a patuki. The Awa folk of the Bay of Plenty call the wahaika an akau.
The patu tawaka was apparently a short wooden weapon. It was, said our informant, a weapon of ancient times. It was employed for striking and also as a stabbing weapon. It was sharp pointed, and was used to stab a person in the side. Also it had four projections back from the point, termed pewa, and apparently a blow was struck with these.
Mr. korepa, consisting of a stone with a cord attached to it. The stone was swung by means of the cord. I obtained a similar statement from an east coast native, but know of no further evidence concerning it.
Of the patiti there is little to say, it being, like the kakauroa, a modern weapon. It is the old-fashioned English trade tomahawk provided with a short handle instead of a long one, as in the case of the kakauroa. The patiti came to be a much-favoured weapon with the Maori. It was usually hafted with a well-formed handle fashioned from whale's bone, and these handles were often embellished with some carved design. A patiti with a 12in. handle is about the ordinary size. The carved parts are the butt end and a space near the iron head. One before me has a carved encircling band near the head, and a grotesque human figure carved in relief on the upper part of the helve and quite close to the head. Another has a handle 22in. in length, but this is abnormally long. At the butt end is carved a bird's head, another abnormal feature. Some of these implements measure but ten or eleven inches over all. The chopping motion of delivering a blow with a pou tangata or patiti is described by the word tope.
There is another Maori implement that is described in some early works as a weapon. Native evidence is against it having been so used. It is said to have been used as a knife in cutting up human bodies, dogs, etc., also whales, sharks and large fish. It would be an awkward implement to use as a weapon, inasmuch as it must be manipulated with a dragging motion. This action would not appeal to the Maori. This implement is known in many parts of the Pacific; here in New Zealand we term it a shark's tooth knife. It is known
mira tuatini, because made by lashing teeth of the tuatini species of shark to a wooden handle. This implement, like a pit-saw, cuts only one way: the teeth are set so that they cut by means of a pulling action.
The manufacture of these maripi, or cutting tools, shows infinite care and patience. The attaching of the teeth was a very neat piece of workmanship, apart from which some have
the teeth set in wide pieces of wood which have been carved into different designs. Some show pierced work, having in a number of cases a grotesque head or figure at the outer end. Thus in some the handgrip is the only part not covered with a carved design.
The names aha, ahaaha, koripi, maripi, mira tuatini, mikara and ripi were all applied to this implement. A large specimen examined is 15in. long. The much-pierced wooden frame is 4in. wide, and the attached cutting teeth extend over
matai, essentially a brash-grained timber. A grotesque head is carved on the butt end. The mode of attaching the shark's teeth (teeth of Carcharias brachyurus, blue shark) is ingenious and effective. The bases of the teeth are set in a narrow groove formed in the edge of the tool, and they are then lashed to the frame or blade, the lashing being passed through holes formed in the blade.
A small, old specimen is 8½in. in length, and the blade is 1½in. to 2in. wide. The small handgrip, left uncarved, is but 2in. in length. Two small pieces of Haliotis shell adorn each side, countersunk and fitted over small bosses left in the centre of the depressions. This specimen has been finely carved, and is pierced in several places. The whole blade has been painted with red ochre in days of old. It is decidedly a neat little tool.
A straight, narrow form was also made; one such is 11in. in length, and from ⅝ to ⅞ of an inch in thickness. It is carved in all parts, including the handgrip. The cutting teeth extend for 2½ inches. In the centre of the back of the blade is carved in relief a human figure 1¾ inches in length. All three specimens are pierced at the butt end of the handle to accommodate a cord.
We have now to consider the question of the throwing spears or missile weapons of the Maori. The evidence of early writers is assuredly somewhat conflicting, but a long series of enquiries made by several men interested in native usages, most of whom have now “gone west,” shows us that the use of missile spears was not a common practice. Statements made by early writers are by no means always correct. A glaring case is one made by an early sojourner here that a certain fight was fought with the bow and arrow, a weapon that the Maori never used. In many cases mentioned by early writers, Cook for example, the spear thrown was merely a
taki, or challenge, and for this purpose well-finished fighting spears were not used.
Throwing spears were not carried by members of a war party. Banks tells us that the darts of the natives were used for defending their fortified villages (pa). They were about eight feet in length. These would probably be the whip-thrown spears formerly employed, which were also sometimes thrown by hand. They were rough implements, by no means finely finished. The Rev. Mr. Yate speaks of natives using the throwing spear in taking birds, including ducks. The Maori did not so employ spears, and the man who essays to take a duck by throwing a spear at it will assuredly go hungry. Crozet tells us that supplies of stones and javelins were kept on the lofty fighting stages of the fortified villages—a correct statement. Crozet the French voyager is one of the most reliable of early writers. On one occasion he remarks that spears were thrown at his party.
The remark made by Nicholas to the effect that the long spears of the natives were thrown prior to coming to close quarters is certainly erroneous; they were not, and could not be effectively thrown. Only short ones were so used. Elsewhere he speaks of “short spears” being so employed. He noted one interesting fact, namely that, in an assembly of armed natives, there was a great lack of uniformity in the weapons carried. Spears of different makes and lengths, different striking weapons such as have been described, were seen at such a time. One man might carry a spear and greenstone patu, another a taiaha and pou tangata, yet another a tewhatewha and a kotiate, and so on. Every man had a preference for a certain weapon or weapons, and those he invariably used.
Another early writer tells us of a custom of allowing an injured husband to throw three spears at a man who had been familiar with his wife. Others increase the allowance of spears so thrown. The Maori never used any kind of shield at such times, but was allowed the use of a short stick as a karo or parrying implement.
Colenso disbelieved in the missile spear, including the whip-thrown spear. This last was certainly an old-time usage.
Spears were cast underhand, and the bulk of the evidence shows that throwing spears were not used during a hand to hand fight. Bush dwelling tribes do not appear to have employed any hand-thrown spear.
Of the whip-thrown spear we have a considerable amount of evidence. The mode of casting this spear has already been explained in the chapter on games. In some cases we are told the point was a piece of kaka ponga lashed on to the head. This is the hard part of the trunk of a tree fern, and a wound caused by it is said to be extremely troublesome, owing to some poisonous property of the wood. Most of such weapons were unworked rods of manuka, pointed at one end and deeply notched, so that the head would break off when it struck a person, thus leaving it in the wound.
This missile spear was known as a pere, kopere, tarerarera, makoi and whiuwhiu. The whip stick is a kotaha and perhaps also known as tata pere. This latter term awaits corroboration. Another name given for the whip is tipao, and pere tokotoko was applied to the dart by two natives. These whip-thrown spears are mentioned in a number of old traditions, as in the account of the siege of Motu-wheteke, at the Wairoa.
Dr. Haddon tells us that he saw this mode of casting a spear used by native children in S. E. New Guinea. In modern times we know that Maori youths have been seen casting spears and stones by means of power derived from a pliant pole inserted firmly in the earth in a vertical position. This was bent over and suddenly released; it plucked out the spear and hurled it to a considerable distance. There is no evidence to show that this was a pre-European usage. The whip-thrown spear is said to have been cast up to two hundred yards, but I know not on what evidence. The name of tuku whakarere sometimes applied to it may be termed a descriptive name. They were employed by both sides when a village was besieged. Mr. White tells us that, in olden times, this notched spear was employed by moa hunters.
Crozet speaks of seeing the whips used in casting these spears during his sojourn at the Bay of Islands in 1772. The whips in the British Museum are figured in the Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute, Vol. II., new series.
In one of the fights of olden days a chief named Tirarau was mortally wounded in the breast by a whip-thrown spear. He at once instructed two of his men to stand, one on either side of him, and support him in an upright position, lest his people, seeing him fall, should be disheartened. Thus they held him up as he summoned all his strength and resolution to remain erect. The tide of war turned, and the enemy fled, whereupon Tirarau was lowered to the ground—dead.
Six generations ago the Otakanini pa at Kaipara was besieged, and its inmates much distressed by the many tarerarera cast into it by the besiegers. The hill pointed out as the place from which the spears were thrown is about 150 yards from the old fort. A descendant of the besiegers explained this to Mr. S. Percy Smith as they stood on that hill half a century ago.
The word tarere is sometimes employed to denote the action of casting these whip-thrown spears. When the Whetukairangi fort at Seatoun Heights, Wellington, was attacked, the inmates thereof are said to have killed seven of the raiders with such spears cast from the lofty fighting stages of the fort.
The expression manuka kanoi was sometimes applied to these rude spears cast by besiegers and besieged. Handthrown stones were also used by defenders stationed on the elevated platforms. Banks tells us of this form of missile weapon, but says that the Maori was ignorant of the sling.
This question of a sling for casting stones is another disputed point here. Some writers have stated that the Maori did use a sling for that purpose. The late Colonel McDonnell wrote as follows: “Heaps of round iron stones weighing from one to five pounds each, were collected from the beach and piled up for the use of the slingers kotaha.” This was in connection with the defence of forts. A sling stone weighing five pounds sounds somewhat too strenuous. Slings for casting stones were widely used in Polynesia by fighting men, and
Several early writers state that a sling was used to throw heated stones into a besieged village in order to set fire to the thatched huts, but none describe such a sling. There is an absence of mention of it in tradition that casts a doubt upon these statements.
A reliable Takitumu adept, in mentioning weapons used by fighters on the elevated platforms of a fort, mentioned “pukoro kohatu hei whakaruru ki te taua,” but this may mean baskets or bags of stone to cast at the enemy. The question of this stone slinging must remain open, but the absence of any mention of it in old tales inclines one to caution. There is, however, no difficulty whatever in finding natives now who will state that their people formerly used both the stone sling and the bow and arrow!
The hoeroa is the most peculiar weapon of the native armoury, and, moreover, one concerning which we have very little explanation to offer as to its use. Its extraordinary shape, its lack of a piercing point, render it an extremely puzzling form. One would never suppose that this peculiar implement represents a war weapon, and we have no satisfactory information as to what advantage accrued to the wielder from its lack of a point. A weapon with a reverse curve in it is surely an abnormal form. We have one statement made by natives to the effect that it is a difficult weapon to parry or avoid.
The hoeroa was fashioned from whale's bone. It is said that the material was obtained from the lower jaw of the sperm whale. This bone is of a closer texture, heavier and stronger than that of the ribs, and so was preferred by the makers of bone implements. An east coast native has stated that occasionally hoeroa were fashioned from maire, a hard, heavy, dense-grained timber, but the statement does not seem to be supported by any known specimen now extant. It is to be noted that in some specimens the reverse curve is wanting.
In speaking of the natives of the Thames district and their weapons in Cook's time Banks wrote: “They had also ribs of whales, of which we had often seen imitations in wood carved and ornamented with tufts of dogs'hair.” So that possibly wooden hoeroa were made. Cruise stated that the hoeroa was a rare weapon in the north, but a few years after the arrival of the first missionaries. Stowell, in his “Vade Mecum,” describes the hoeroa as a harpoon with dart attached, but no other writer mentions an attached point, not even those who saw it in the 18th century.
This weapon is 5ft. and upward in length, about two inches wide, flat, and about ¼in. in thickness, or a little more. Neither end is brought to a piercing point, but merely slightly rounded. It carries its width throughout. They were apparently not commonly used, as were such forms as the taiaha. The rear end was adorned with carved designs, and a little carving may appear about the middle.
Dr. Thomson, in his “Story of New Zealand,” states that the hoeroa was sometimes used as a club. A number of natives have stated that the weapon was thrown at an enemy with an underhand cast, and that it was recovered by means of a cord held in the left hand of the operator. Pio of the Awa tribe distinctly described it as a pere or projectile weapon. The small holes at one end would serve to secure the end of the cord to it, and also as a means of attaching the adorning hair. Banks remarked that both feathers and dogs'hair were attached to them. When thrown the motion is said to have been a sinuous one, which rendered it difficult to parry.
I have been told that men armed with hoeroa were not seen in the forefront of a fight, but sought to find an enemy engaged in combat, when they would endeavour to take him unaware, and deliver a flank attack as it were. It scarcely seems possible that a man could be slain by such a wideended missile, unless used as a striking weapon. One native asserted that it was cast so as to strike the ground but also continue its flight, and that the impact caused its flight to be so unsteady as to make it difficult to parry. This statement has not been corroborated, and may be an error. The same man maintained that it was never used as either a striking or
A native once gave me a description of a process of softening whales'bones ere they were worked by weapon makers. It may or may not be correct. The great bone was first soaked in water, and then steamed for 24 hours in a long pit, covered over as is a food oven to confine the steam. The bone was then easier to work. This steaming pit was called an umu kokau and umu tarawai. He also maintained that the hoeroa was fashioned as a straight form, and given the desired curvature by means of another steaming process, and by then being bent and placed between stout pegs driven firmly into the earth. Those pegs kept the heated bone in the desired form, and it was left so for some weeks ere being removed, when it would be found to have “set” in that form. The writer is not a bone worker and cannot say whether this process is a feasible one or not. He knows of no corroborative evidence, such as is ever desirable.
As to this hoeroa, the evidence is in favour of its having been used as a projectile weapon, with limitation of range, as represented by the cord attached to its rear end. As to why it was not pointed tradition is silent. Other names applied to this implement were tatu-paraoa, huri-taniwha, and paraoa-roa.
A large specimen of the hoeroa in the Dominion Museum is 6 feet 3 inches in length, and 3¼ inches wide towards the outer end, but somewhat narrower along the handgrip; it is about⅝ of an inch in thickness. Another specimen is but 4 feet 2 inches in length. Both have the butt end carved in scroll devices, and pierced with two small semicircular holes about two inches from the end. In the middle of each specimen, on either edge, are four curved incised lines arranged in pairs.
Of the bow and arrow there is not much to say. It was not a Maori weapon. Parkinson tells us that, in Cook's time, the Maori was unacquainted with it, and that he or his companions acquainted them with the principle. The Polynesians knew the implement; it was employed at the Hawaiian Isles and elsewhere for shooting rats, and at Tahiti in archery contests, but it was not used in fighting. The Melanesians used
te'a (arrow) is the Maori teka, a hand-thrown dart already described, the tenga of Fiji.
Dr. Thomson tells us in his “Story of New Zealand” that the Maori knew of the bow and arrow, but his sojourn in the north was long after that of Parkinson. When Te Pehi of Ngati-Toa visited England in 1826 he is said to have been delighted with the bow and arrow as there made known to him. It is on record, however, that my worthy but somewhat bloodthirsty old namesake was still more delighted with the muskets that he procured there.
To conclude this subject of the bow and arrow as a Maori weapon there is no evidence to show that he ever employed it either as a weapon or toy since his long sojourn in these isles began. There is, however, some little evidence in favour of an assumption that the bow and arrow has been used in New Zealand in olden times. There are but two items of such evidence. One is the finding of a bow buried in a swamp, the other is a statement made by two of the most learned and reliable natives of the Takitumu folk of last century.
In Vol. 1 of the Journal of the Polynesian Society is an account of the finding of the bow mentioned above, written by Mr.
This bow is 6ft. 4¾in. in length, evidently a war bow, and it closely resembles bows from the New Hebrides in the Dominion Museum. How it came there, or whether or not it was used here, or how old it is, no man may say.
We now come to the traditionary evidence. When, many years ago, Te Matorohanga was giving some account of the original inhabitants of New Zealand, he stated that those folk
hoeroa and the huata, the patu kurutai and the throwing spear were weapons of that old-time folk. He then added: “Also the kopere, which was projected by means of a wooden implement, the thong (or cord) being of dog skin.” Now this remark could not have been meant to denote the whip-thrown spear, because, in his next sentence, he refers to that implement: “Another was called a whiuwhiu; the cord was tied to the pointed end of the weapon, which was laid on the ground and jerked suddenly, the weapon flying forward and striking a person with great force.”
Another old wise man, in referring to the weapons of the aborigines, in 1860, said: “Omitted by me was yet another weapon of those folk, a pere, a piece of manuka (wood) was bent as a means of projecting it.” Pere and kopere are words that denote a forward darting movement; both are used to denote the whip-thrown spear, but in this case it is not so used; no rod or piece of wood was bent as a means of projecting the whip-thrown spear. It appears possible that the original, dark skinned inhabitants of New Zealand used the bow and arrow as a weapon.
Training in the use of arms was an almost ceaseless activity among our native folk, from youth even until the individual laid aside his arms for ever. It had to be. Elderly men passed much time training young members of the group. An important lesson was that which taught a beginner in the arts of war to keep his eyes from roving when facing an opponent, and to keep them fixed on one of two points, the big toe, or the point of the shoulder. In such a situation, when you keep your gaze fixed on the waewae whangai, or advanced foot, of your adversary, you will see, a fraction of time before he delivers a blow, that toe clinch downward. You thus know that the blow is coming, and so you are ready to parry or avoid it. By looking at his shoulder you will note a movement of the muscles a split second ere the blow is delivered. Such were the observations and teachings of the neolithic fighter.
It was considered desirable to be ambidextrous in the use of weapons, so as to enable one to face an opponent in either way, according to what his mode of wielding a weapon might be. Young men were taught always to strike at the head with a short one-hand weapon. There were different ways of holding these; some held such a patu blade downward, others held it out with extended arm to tempt an opponent to attack. A ceaseless lesson was to keep ever on the move in these single combats, never to stand still, to be extremely light and agile on the feet. A man fighting with a short patu might hold in his left hand a puapua or pad, such as a rolled-up cape, and use that to parry with, or to receive a spear point.
The term karo denotes not only parrying, but also avoidance. To duck downward in avoiding a blow is a tuku; it is also applied to swerving sideways. To practise this movement, and then deliver point or blow ere the enemy can recover arms is urutomo. The Maori says that Europeans show no activity in single combats, but rely entirely on their weapons. He maintains that the legs form the best means of karo. Thus an old-time fighter might avoid a spear thrust and get home on his opponent. Nimble avoidance and feinting (whakahopo, whakapoi, whakarehu) were much relied on. This ceaselessly practised art of karo was also employed by the Maori when firearms were introduced, and he would dodge a bullet by a rapid movement made at the flash of a musket. Wilkes, of the U.S. Exploring Expedition, tells us of the marvellous expertness of the Fijians in so dodging at the flash of a gun. The Maori called an expert parryer or dodger a toa horopu.
In Turnbull's Voyage is given an account of spear throwing by Australian natives at Sydney when a number of Maori were present. A single native was attacked by several with throwing spears. Ten men threw their spears at him at once, but he avoided or parried them all. The Maori visitors betrayed impatience at the length of intervals between the flights of spears, and considered the shield to be an unnecessary appendage “as the hand was quite sufficient to turn aside and alter the direction of any number of spears!”
Different modes of parrying had special names, such as marangai, piki, orua and tahurangi. The Maori always par-
In close fighting a peculiar implement termed a tirou was sometimes used, apparently on rare occasions. In form it resembled a shepherd's crook, and it was employed to catch a man round the leg and so throw him. A lone note tells of the matau tangata or “man hook,” some form of large wooden hook with a rope attached to it. These are said to have been occasionally used to break up a resolute band of fighters grouped together. Certainly no party of raiders would carry such implements about.
We hear of a club having been sometimes fashioned from the bones of the great moa bird, long extinct. Many implements were made from such bones in olden days, specimens of which are in collections.
When delivering an attack just prior to dawn attackers sometimes bound leaves of the rangiora round their heads, white side outwards, so as to distinguish friend from enemy.
When a party was out on the war trail and under the tapu of the gods, the members thereof laid aside their weapons when partaking of food, otherwise those weapons would be polluted, and their efficiency would suffer seriously. As the Maori puts it: “Ka tamaoatia te mata o te rakau.”
It has been noted that the Maori was in the habit of reciting charms over his weapons in order to render them effective, such charms being known as hoa rakau, mata rakau, kitao and reo tao. The act of rendering a weapon effective in this manner is expressed by the term tuaimu, of which tuaumu is a variant form. A native will gravely inform you that a weapon so charmed is irresistible. Ere repeating the charm a man would expectorate upon his weapon. According to the Tuhoe folk the repetition of the charm locates Ue-mutu, the patron of all weapons, on the point of the weapon; it is endowed with his dread powers. A number of these weapon charms have been collected. A Wai-rarapa native states that, in his district this charm was recited by a tohunga over the assembled weapons of a force, and that the charm was called a wani.
The pauku was a closely woven cape that was sometimes worn as a protection against spear thrusts. If convenient it was soaked in water prior to its wearer entering a fight. The capes called mahiti, puahi and topuni, of which more anon, were sometimes used for the same purpose. Mr. S. Percy Smith has recorded the fact that, in the north, the pukupuku or kotara was a thick band of woven Phormium about six inches wide and twelve or fifteen feet in length that was wetted and then wound round the chest. It was said to be impervious to spear thrusts. The word kouma, meaning a breastplate, or some such article, has been preserved, but we have no description of it.
Several writers have stated that the natives had special houses or huts in which to keep weapons—armouries, in fact. Crozet describes one such that he saw. These may have represented a reserve stock of weapons. It is improbable that natives would so store their weapons, such as were carried every day; it would be unsafe, for no man knew the moment he might want his weapon. Canon Stack's remarks concerning the whare purakau of the South Island evidently refer, not to an armoury, but to the School of Learning, which was so termed there, from purakau, a legend or traditionary tale.
When the Maori obtained firearms he was forced to make changes in his mode of fighting, and his method of fortification. For some time after such acquisition no proficiency in their use was attained; they were effective only because they inspired terror among the people, who viewed them as being something supernatural. It was some time ere the Maori learned to use a musket with anything like precision; he used to hold it down at his hip and blaze away. For some time he continued to carry it merely as an additional weapon, he would fire a volley, then discard the musket and go in with the old rakau maori, or native weapons. Dour old fighters by no means approved of this new weapon, and asserted that it was intended for timid folk. Cases are on record of fights wherein both sides were using muskets being concluded with the old-time weapons. A leader had but to call out: “Rukea nga pu, kia rangona te papaki o te patu” (Throw away the guns so that the clash of weapons may be heard). Then both
The fire and smoke of firearms certainly alarmed the Maori at first, and so they were dubbed tahu-whenua. The old flintlock muskets were called kauamo and ngutu-parera (duck's bill), the latter from the form of the hammer. Percussion lock guns were called hakimana, a double-barreled gun tupara, and a cannon purepo.
The tribes that first obtained firearms were able to harry others far and near, owing to the terror inspired by the new and mysterious weapon, not to the numbers slain by it. Thus the Ngapuhi folk, whose raids heretofore had not extended further south than Hauraki, and who were not specially famed as fighters, were enabled to extend their savage forays as far south as Wellington Harbour. Other tribes soon realised that the obtaining of firearms was a matter of life and death, of existence or annihilation. The most strenuous efforts were made to so retain a hold on the world of life, hence the advent of traders was welcomed. Every available person was pressed into the service of scutching the fibre of the Phormium plant to barter for muskets and ammunition. Inland and southern tribes often obtained them from northern tribes that had dealings with traders. The Tuhoe folk used to make perilous journeys to Waikato and the Thames to barter slaves for muskets, at the price of five slaves for one musket. This sort of thing continued until all tribes of the northern half of the North Island possessed the new weapon. This meant increased fighting, and for a number of years that area was a great armed camp. Up to about 1840 the condition of things in this region was dreadful; it had continued for twenty years. The missionaries often suffered, but did good work in endeavouring to stay the ferocious contest. They estimated that the introduction of firearms had caused, directly and indirectly, the destruction of 80,000 natives. But traders received from five to eight cwt. of flax fibre for a musket, and the trade went gaily on.
The Maori called guns pu, presumably because they are hollow cylinders, one of the meanings of the word. Pu titi,
pu toriri, and
Pangari of Ngapuhi gave his impressions of the Maitai (Europeans) when they first appeared: “When I first saw the Maitai I took them to be supernatural beings who had come from some land much superior to ours. When I saw guns I thought that thunder and lightning had been confined within tubes, and that those sea demons, the Maitai, could hurl them against anything they directed the tubes at.” Some more southern tribes thought the new pu (guns) must resemble the old pu (trumpets), and so sought, by means of magic arts, to make their trumpets belch forth fire, thunder and death. Sad to relate, the attempt ended in failure. Nicholas (1814) tells us of the alarm that his fowling piece caused, and adds: “I showed my shot bag to one of the old men, but the sight of it terrified him so much that he did not venture to take a second glance at it, and turned away his head in the greatest trepidation from this magazine of death.” One of the Ngapuhi raiders used to relate as a side-splitting joke a trick he played on a Taranaki slave. The latter was most curious concerning the new weapon, so the owner told him to look down the barrel of his musket. As he did so the owner fired his piece, and—exit slave.
In some cases the Maori adorned the stocks of guns with finely executed carved designs. Cruise tells us of a native who had acquired a gun and was keenly desirous of slaying something with it. Hence with extreme care, he climbed up a tree and put the muzzle of his gun within a foot of a pigeon ere firing it. That pigeon was quite dead when it reached the ground!
Natives made their own cartridge boxes, often of pukatea wood, sometimes of puka (Griselinia); also their own cartridges.
Single combat (tau-mataki-tahi) was quite a Maori institution. Such encounters were sometimes arranged when two hostile forces met. A warrior might step forth and chal-
toa (warrior) of the opposing party, and the two would meet and fight between the two forces. Each would probably be attended by a piki or second, who, if his principal fell, might himself challenge the victor. Sometimes in fighting a noted warrior would be attacked by several men who wished to make sure of slaying him.
Maori warfare consisted of a series of raids into an enemy's country, and so tribes always kept a kind of Dr. and Cr. statement concerning enemy tribes. Some of these that have been related to collectors are quite interesting, and extend over a number of generations.
Among the communistic Maori there was no form of conscription, no conscience clause, and, it may be said, no shirking when the red trail of Tu was to be lifted.
Now we will gird on the war belt and recite the hoa charm over our neolithic weapons. We will send forth the sign of the tiwha that calls man to tread the war path; we will perform the tapu rite of Wai taua. For Rehua, destroyer of man, is seen in the heavens, and the old Earth Mother is about to tremble under the fierce fury of the war dance.
The terms tiwha, kara and ngakau are applied to anything in the way of a token or hint by means of which a clan or tribe is asked to join another in a raid. The tiwha may be material or immaterial; it may consist of some action unaccompanied by words. Several other expressions are applied to it. Thus two peoples may be sojourning together for a space. The leader of one wishes to acquaint his folk with his desire to attack the other party. To effect this he will surreptitiously insert into a basket of cooked food a stone, and place that food before his people. On seeing the stone they at once understand the situation. Another plan was to burn a number of holes in a cape, and then place that cape over the shoulders of the chief whose assistance was desired. A messenger of standing would effect this. No words are spoken in either case. If the person on whom the cape was placed agrees to the proposal, he allows it to remain on his shoulders. Yet another method was to place some inferior or repulsive food before a person whose assistance was desired. He would know at once what it meant. Should he
tiwha to Tuhoe and other tribes. My worthy friends of Tuhoe accepted it with fierce joy, thus bringing much tribulation upon themselves. When Hunga of Waikato was slain at Rotorua his body was cut up and the various pieces sent to the clans of the Arawa as a tiwha. In many cases the tiwha was merely a song sung by a messenger, the song containing some hint of the request.
In some districts a messenger sent to raise a force (tutu taua, tirare ope and whakataka ope) would have half his head shaved and painted with red ochre, which told the tale of his errand.
If a murder had been committed and a messenger sent for help to avenge it, he would enter the village almost naked, capering in tuone style. Then would come the query: “Inutai?” (who is it). And the answer: “It is so-and-so.” Enough! Commoner or chief, the war trail was lifted, for the murder was an act of takahi mana, a belittling of prestige.
Prior to the setting forth of a raiding force a meeting of the clans concerned in it would be held, and all arrangements discussed and settled. During these deliberations songs termed tau marae taua were sung to despatch the force under desirable conditions. Men about to engage in war were purea, a rite was performed over them to render them courageous and successful. Many ritual formulæ pertained to these ceremonies. A lengthy one before me as I write is an interesting form addressed to the god Tunui-a-te-ika.
A particularly important rite performed over the members of a war party ere setting forth was termed Wai taua. It was a kind of baptism in the service of Tu, the supreme patron of war. The warriors assembled at the brink of a stream and squatted down in a row. They and the officiating priest are innocent of garments save a form of apron or breech clout, or some herbage twisted round the loins. The priest takes two strips of Phormium leaf, ties them together, places the doubled strip in the water so that he is standing between the two trailing halves of it. This is a symbolical act; he is said to be
karamu in the water, he walks along the row of men and taps each man on the shoulder with it. It is not clear as to whether he discards the piece of flax, or not. Some accounts do not mention it. Another long formula known as a Kawa taua is recited.
The Wai taua or Tohi rite brought the warriors under the rigid tapu of Tu, and the Kawa taua seems to be much the same thing. They endow the men with courage and all other qualities desirable in those about to engage in mortal combat. The Tira ora rite, already described, was performed at such a time, at least in some cases. The object of this performance was to remove all pernicious influences, all harmful conditions such as ever emanate from lax conduct, moral, ceremonial, or spiritual blemishes. This cleansing operation brought the subjects into a fit condition to be placed under the extremely strict tapu of Tu, the supreme god of war. We have already noted that this condition of purity was considered to be necessary when a person became subject or participator in certain high-class rites. As the Maori aptly puts it, it was “hei muru i nga he, i nga mate,” an effacing or absolution of faults and disabilities. And so the Tira ora or wand of life was erected, the maro and wetewete formulæ recited, and then a spell to weaken the enemy.
In some cases the Wai taua rite was again performed when the war party was about to deliver an attack, and in this case some act of divination would be performed in order to forecast the fortune of war. The tohunga or priest who accompanied a war party was an important personage, and had much influence as to the conduct of operations. He was often accompanied by an assistant who helped him in various ways, and who carried the sacred wallet (kete pure) containing certain tapu articles, such as a portion of food cooked at the ahi horokaka. This basket or its contents entered into any rites performed by the priestly expert.
When the “cleansing” formula had been recited over the fighting men, each man raised his right hand, in which he
tipare, as it was termed, is said to have “bound” the performance, to have stabilised the desirable qualities asked for. The performance was thus rendered effective. The warriors were now endowed with the whatu moana and the quality of kiriuka; the war god's heart of stone was theirs. Other ceremonial performances pertaining to war have already been explained.
We now come to what was deemed a very important part of a raid, a critical action of the art of war, the war dance, (tutu waewae and ngarahu taua). This performance not only filled the fighting men with enthusiasm for the coming fray, but it also held very serious possibilities. According to the manner in which it was performed, so were the actions and behaviour of the men, and moreover the results of the enterprise, forecast. If the dance was performed faultlessly, with the appropriate fire and energy, and no false movements made, then the omen was a good one. Any error committed, any lack of energy on the part of the performers, was viewed as an evil omen; trouble lay before.
If a war dance was performed prior to leaving the home village, the women would carefully scan the performance; they are said to have been close critics. Hence the men of old would say: “Ere you go forth to war display your legs to your women.” At such a time, if the women were seen to take an energetic part in heading the columns, then it was known that the performance was a good one, that the taua would go forth and assault the very stars in the heavens, and the Earth Mother below. For know ye that both men and women are true warriors, both have to encounter severe ordeals, as shown in the old saying: “He puta taua ki te tane, he whanau tama ki te wahine”—The battlefield with man, childbirth with woman.
Performances of the tutu ngarahu or war dance held on the arrival of visitors, or of a taua muru, or taua wahine (woman capturing party), or prior to a party of raiders leaving the home village, were viewed as turanga a tohu or divinatory performances. Any mistake made was a harbinger of misfortune of some nature. When performed after a suc-
maro, a form of apron. The hair might be cut short when on active service, or tied up on the top of the head; during a war dance it might be decorated with plumes. At such a time the poniania was seen, the “spritsail yard” of early sea farers, long feathers thrust horizontally through the septum of the nose. In olden times each man gripped his principal weapon in his hand, whatever that weapon might be. In modern times all were armed with guns.
We will now suppose that the call to arms has gone forth, that the signal fires have blazed on hill tops, or that a messenger has been despatched to bear the An abbreviated form of tiwha to other clans. Those clans have risen at the call to arms, they combine forces and march to the place of assembly. The people of that place, whom we will call the villagers, prepare to receive them. The fighting men, the ika a Whiro, and arero whero, and ati a toa strip for the war dance and form into column, the column faces the advancing one of the clans called up, and the latter we will call the ope.
ope taua, a war party. Otherwise ope means a party of travellers.
The ope advances slowly and in perfect silence, in close column, but the men do not keep step. Now from the silent, kneeling villagers of the home matua or column, a single man rises. He is the first wero or challenger, a man selected for his fine appearance. In his hand he bears a rude spear, a rod of manuka; it is the whakaara spear, the first challenge spear of a series of three. The challenger advances with springy step in manner orthodox, and, when still some distance from the ope, he casts his spear at it and retires to his own column. The ope takes no heed of the challenge, but marches steadily onward.
A second challenger now advances from the ranks of the villagers. He bears the whakaoho spear. He casts this at the
ope still marches silently on, and heeds it not.
Forth from the kneeling ranks of the villagers there bounds the final challenger. In his right hand he bears the tuku, the rakau mutu or final challenge spear, in his left is gripped his own weapon. He is the swiftest runner of his clan. Naked to the four winds he bounds from side to side as he advances with hideous grimaces, emitting deep-chested grunts of defiance. His step is quick and light, his muscles strained under the smooth, brown skin; the brandished weapon, the sounds and gestures of defiance, the agile, leaping action pertain to the pikari and whakatitiko. He is the picked man of his clan, he is the admired of all, he is the final challenger. But the ope marches silently on and takes no notice.
When near the head of the advancing column the challenger gives a final exhibition of his agility, lung power, and powers of facial distortion, and casts his spear at the ope. Then, turning to the right, he races back to his own column, the silent waiting villagers. The final spear has been thrown; the ope takes up the challenge.
The spear has not grounded ere the kaiwhai or pursuer leaps from the flank of the ope and dashes forward in pursuit of the challenger. He also is a picked man and will strain every nerve to overtake the challenger. Should he do so, both he and his companions rejoice, for it is a good omen, and, as he comes up to the fleeing challenger he will endeavour to strike him down, or to rapahuki him, i.e., thrust his weapon between the challenger's legs and so throw him. But the challenger has the right to retaliate. Should either man look backward at his own column, or should the challenger turn to the left instead of the right, should any false move be made, then such a korapa, as such misadventures are termed, is viewed as an ill omen. For a challenger to be overtaken is another unlucky happening for his friends.
The ope is now coming on at the run, with quick, short strides, a kind of trotting gait, each man holding his weapon in his right hand. At the same time all are giving tongue to a singular semi-dental, semi-sibilant cry of ti-ti-ti! or tsi!-tsi!
kaiwhitiwhiti) of the kneeling villagers leaps to his feet and yells forth the whakaaraara matua, by which he calls on his fighters to rise. And then, with a wild, piercing cry, the naked, brown-skinned dogs of war spring to their feet. This column now advances in the same manner as the other; the two columns pass each other in parallel lines, moving different ways. All practise the same stamping gait, the same weird cry; their eyes stare wildly, with muscles aquiver, their actions and appearance denote excitement and defiance.
Ere long the villagers turn about and return in the same manner. The ope does the same, and the two columns pass each other as before. To look at them one would imagine that they yearned to slaughter each other. Not at all; they are relatives and friends. These peculiar evolutions are termed unuunu; it is a kind of neolithic countermarching.
On reaching their former stations both matua or columns halt, face about, while every man kneels down on his left knee, with his right foot on the earth, his weapon, gripped in his right hand, inclining to his left front, his left hand resting lightly on it. Every man looks downward; all are perfectly silent. The two columns face each other; no sound is heard.
The fugleman of the village column again leaps to his feet and gives the call to rise:
As one man, and with the same weird, wild cry, the fighting men rise to the war dance. Each man grasps his musket by the barrel, near the muzzle, brandishing it butt uppermost. Now comes the “Whiti! Whiti - - E!”peruperu.
To those unaccustomed to the gentle habits of the Maori the war dance may truly seem terrific. It seems amazing that human beings can produce so much noise. The men are suddenly transformed into demons, as, with staring eyes, distorted features, tongue lolling out, they go through the furious motions of the war dance. The swinging muskets sway in perfect time as the frenzied savages extend and withdraw their arms. The thudding of the bare feet strikes the ear as a single sound; when the tense, maddened fighters leap
tutu waewae, and, long miles away, the hoarse chorus shall drone upon the ear like unto the boom of the ocean surf on a rocky coastline.
Such is the war dance of the Maori, such his methods in the conduct of the great game. Although a marching column does not keep step in these evolutions, yet the columns preserve their formation well. Any irregularity is corrected by the controlling chief, who will hoahoa or dress the ranks. Any irregularity in the dance, a failure to rise as one man, of an individual to leap high enough, any lack of frenzied vigour—all are deemed unlucky signs, evil omens.
If closely related to the villagers, the members of the ope will sometimes join with it to form one column, termed a kawau maro; this single column will face the village and perform the dance.
A swift runner was esteemed for such services as that of a challenger. Such men as Te Hihi of Ngapuhi, for example, he who outran a falling tree to maintain his reputation. It was a matter of showing certain incredulous Europeans, sawyers and whalers, that the fame of Te Hihi struck against the heavens. The tree, a lofty one, was carefully scarfed for her marks, the front scarf carried well in, the back scarf cut out until she began to complain. Te Hihi took his stand before the front scarf; the marked line for the falling tree to strike had been cleared to give the daring runner a fair chance. The assembled people, native and European, silent but excited, gathered round. The axeman, at a signal from Te Hihi, bent to his task. The slight sound of parting fibres rose to ominous cracks, and then came the crash of rending timber as the great tree quivered, lurched forward, paused a split second, then with a crash leaped forward and fell thundering to the trembling earth. But where was Te Hihi? At the
korapa, for, at lightning speed, death was reaching for him, and Te Hihi ran as never Ngapuhi had run before. And men said that he actually leaped from under the rushing terror, to be caught by the blast of the wind from the falling tree and be tossed by it as flutters a leaf hard driven by autumn gale—but alive and unscathed. Thus, amid the frantic yells of his tribesmen and the cheers of the reckless Europeans, did Te Hihi uphold the mana of his tribe.
When a fight started a leader would sometimes shout out such a phrase as: “Aue! Te mamae roa-e!” This is an auhi; he bewails the danger that he is leading his men into. An old war cry of the Maori is: “Hoatu ki roto-e! Hoatu ki roto!” (Dash in! Dash in!). Another form is: “Riria! E te whanau-e! Riria!” (Fight, Oh people! Fight!). Also: “Napihia! Napihia!” (equivalent to our “Stick to it”), and the modern gun fighter's cry of: “Tahuna! Tahuna!” (about equivalent to our cry of “Fire!”) The cry of “Tikarohia nga whetu!” (Tear out the stars) is a command to slay the chiefs of the enemy force. “Tikarohia te marama” is a similar reference to the moon, with a similar meaning. A person who chanced to catch sight of an advancing hostile band, as one advancing to attack a village, would cry out: “Ko te whakaariki-e-e-e! Ko te whakaariki!” or “Te taua! Te taua!” both of which are names for an armed force. These prolonged vowel sounds are very effective, and cause a cry to carry far.
During an attack noted toa or warriors would push to the front, to be followed by those somewhat less daring. A man who wished to kawe ingoa or make a name for himself might dash forward and endeavour to slay the first man. The leader of the party was not necessarily seen in the van; he might be in the rear ready to rally his men in case of a mishap or panic. To slay the first man, termed the mataika, matangohi, and ika i te ati, the “first fish,” was considered to be a most meritorious act. The heart of the first slain was taken out by the priestly expert of the party and offered to the
mataika cry, so anxious was he to achieve fame, or hearten his party. Such an act is called a tamarahi. In the fight at Te Kaunga a dog was the hapless mataika, its heart being offered to the gods in manner orthodox.
This rite of offering the heart of the first slain to the gods is known as whangai hau. It was believed to stabilise or render permanent the courage and successful actions of the party, hence its heartening effect. The last man killed in a fight was called tangata whakatiki.
When a fight was over a lock of hair was taken from the head of a slain enemy as the mawe of the victory. It represented that victory, and a rite was performed over it having much the same objective as the whangai hau. It also had the effect of weakening the resolution of the defeated enemy in the matter of obtaining revenge for that defeat.
When our successful party of raiders returns to the home village, its members will abandon their marching at ease, form up in column, and, with the tohunga in the van bearing the māwe, so approach the village. They march in naked as when the Tohi taua rite was performed over them, and advance to the tuahu or sacred place of the village, where certain experts would be waiting to receive them. These men are also naked, save the branchlets stuck in their belts as a maro or apron. As the column slowly approaches, the leading man at the tuahu calls out: “I haramai Tu i hea” (Whence has Tu come?) The priest of the column replies: “I haramai Tu i te kimihanga; i haramai Tu i te rangahautanga” (Tu comes from the seeking; Tu comes from the searching).
The bearer of the māwe now advances and deposits it at the sacred place. The column halts. All the priests then clap their hands and intone a formula. This ceremony is a somewhat lengthy one, and, when it concludes, the warriors proceed to a stream where the tapu is lifted from them by means of another rite. They cannot go to their homes until this has been done. The Whakahoro rite removes the tapu. The two fires termed horokaka and ruahine are kindled by
kumara tuber roasted at each. The officiating priest eats that cooked at the former fire, the other is eaten by the ruahine, a woman who takes part in the tapu removing ceremony. Ritual formulæ are recited by the priest.
When the returned raiders enter the village, where the people are assembled on the plaza, some time is spent in mourning for those clansmen who have been slain. Laments might be composed for the slain. Scenes of the fights where prominent men were killed might be placed under tapu, if on the tribal lands. The tapu imposed on the field of Puke-kai-kahu by the Arawa was not removed until 1869, over half a century later. In some cases the spot where a famed man was slain would be marked by setting up an unworked stone; it would be partially embedded in the earth. Another usage was to dig a pit, termed a pokapoka, at the spot.
With regard to the pursuit of an enemy there are several matters to record. In the first place the swiftest runners among the pursuers never wasted any time in dispatching those they overtook. As a pursuer overtook an enemy he paused not in his speed, but simply dealt him a blow as he passed in order to incapacitate or delay him. The slower runners coming up behind would attend to the matter.
There are two forms of charms that were much used during a pursuit. One of these was the hoa tapuwae, repeated by a runner in order to render himself swift of foot. The other, termed a punga, was repeated by a person to delay others, to render them slow-footed. There is magic in this charm. The reciter having repeated it, would throw some article behind him, as a garment, for example. Now when a pursuer passed over that object the magic would affect him; he would be seriously enfeebled, and so unable to overtake the pursued. The punga is an extremely useful charm to have in one's budget. Another charm, the tupe, also has the effect of enfeebling the person it is directed against. Two other charms were those that had the effect of contracting the earth, so as to shorten a journey, and to draw the land out so as to seriously lengthen a journey. The advantages to be derived from these charms are obvious. Yet another was a charm that
When a man wished to save the life of an enemy during a fight or pursuit, or when a village was taken, all he had to do was to cast his garment over him. If he who did so were a man of standing the act would be quite sufficient. Or should the enemy be getting the worst of a fight then a chief of the victors could save the life of any member of the enemy force by calling him to approach and join the victors. Occasionally a man would purchase his own life by handing over some valuable object, as a greenstone weapon or pendant. We suppose the case of a party being worsted in a fight. The chief thereof might wish to avoid a slaughter of his followers. He would then call out to the other party, intoning the following: “He kauru ora ki tenei pia.” If the chief of the other side consented to cease fighting he would cry out in a similar manner: “He kauru ora, he kauru ora ki tenei pia, ki tenei tama.”
The stigma of slavery lay heavy on the Maori. It was dreaded much more than death; it was the last thing in calamity. Cases have been known wherein children have been slain by their own parents to save them from the dread doom of slavery. In many cases a slave preferred to remain in slavery rather than to return to his own people, where he could never live down the disgrace. At the same time slaves were, as a rule, well treated, though they might at any time be knocked on the head to provide a meal Slaves sometimes married women of their master's tribe, and their children would be free. Occasionally a slave attained a position of some importance. Prisoners captured by a raiding force were sometimes slain by the widows of those of the victors who had fallen.
Having marched under the sway of Tu the war god, the destroyer of man, we will now turn our attention to his brother Rongo, he who presides over peace-making and peaceful arts. In Maoriland peace-making between tribes who had been at war was deemed a very important function. There was much of ceremony pertaining to it, as also punctiliousness in many forms.
The expression hohou rongo denotes peace binding. A firm, permanent peace is described as a rongo taketake. The curious expression tatau pounamu (jade door) is a kind of emblematical term for an enduring peace that allays all misgivings. In proposing such a peace a chief would mention some place, often a hill, that was to be taken as a token of the enduring peace, and as a place whereat women and children might dwell or roam in quiet security: “Let us erect the jade door at——as a sanctuary for the helpless; where our women and children shall roam unharmed by man.” This word pounamu (greenstone, jade, nephrite) is here used by the Maori much as we employ the term “golden”; a golden era of peace was to follow.
When peace was made between Tuhoe and the Wairoa tribe, after a long-drawn-out series of raids, the “jade door” erected was a peculiar one. Hipara, of the latter people, gave his daughter in marriage to a Tuhoe chief, then the two hills near the lake, named Tuhi-o-kahu and Kuha-tarewa, were also joined in the bonds of marriage, the former being dubbed a male and the latter a female. By the ceremonial joining of these two hills was the jade door set up, and an enduring peace followed, a peace that has been preserved even unto this day, the day of the white man.
When representatives of the two tribes met to make peace there was a great display of ceremonial performances and speeches. Many peace songs of the tau class were sung, and ritual formulæ of the kawa class chaunted. Now during the fighting none of the ritual pertaining to the Supreme Being had been practised or repeated. It was now to appear on the day of the peace binding. In this long and archaic chaunt he is mentioned by the name of Io-te-waiora.
A peace arranged by means of discussion is called a rongo a whare. A feeble pact, one soon broken, is a rongo whatiwhati.
One of the ceremonial dances performed at a peace-making function is worthy of some description. It was performed by mareikura, girls and young women of rank only, and these
tuhi mareikura. This consisted of designs painted in colours on the cheeks and foreheads of the girls. Several designs were so employed; one was a representation of a pohutukawa (Metrosideros) tree with red blossoms. The branches were painted with the blue earth called pukepoto, and the blossoms with red ochre. One such design was painted on each cheek and one on the forehead.
These ceremonial observances pertaining to such functions, be it observed, were to some extent tapu, and they were taken very seriously. Herewith is a rude plan to illustrate the ceremony:—
The men of the local people, in gala attire as to head adornment, but very scantily clad, take part in the performance, but the girls perform the first part of it. The rectangular design on the left represents the visiting party of late enemies; they are facing to the right. Two girls advance and insert two rods in the earth in a vertical position where the two crosses are marked, and then retire. The matua or column of local men then advances from the right and halts when it reaches the two rods. From their right rear now advance the bedecked girls in single file. Their line of advance is shown by the dotted line. They march past the right flank of the matua, then make a left turn along the front of that body. When the leader reaches the near cross, the left flank of the matua, all halt and make a right turn, and so face the party of visitors. The foremost of the girls is the
kai kakariki, or leader, and she now commences the song, a powhiri or waiata manaaki, to welcome the visitors. All the girls join in the song, which is accompanied, not by energetic movements, but by gentle, somewhat slow wavings of the arms and swaying of bodies. Having continued singing for some time all then make a left turn and march round the left flank of the matua and to the rear thereof, where they halt, and again face to the front. As this countermarch commences every girl also commences to wave her right arm with the inward motion of the powhiri or welcoming gesture, as though beckoning the visitors to approach. The singing is continued until the file halts and forms a detached rear rank to the matua. The next act is the performing of the peruperu or war dance by the men.
It was for such ceremonial performances as these that girls were so carefully taught grace of action in arm and body movements when performing posture dances. The movement of the girls to the front of the fighting men was symbolical of peace and amity. This performance is a remarkably interesting one to witness.
At the conclusion of the men's dance the principal chief of the local people rises to recite the solemn ritual pertaining to peace binding. The visiting people then go through a similar performance. Probably they will not have in their party enough maidens to form a rank, so a few elderly women will station themselves in front of the dancing men, and perform the prancing, grimacing, and other weird actions that are expressed by the term ngangahu. Their chief then chaunts the formula that betokens assent to the making of peace, and much speech-making follows. The next act is the makamaka kai, the ceremonial and spectacular advance of a column of persons bearing baskets and other vessels full of cooked foods for the ceremonial feast. All this is deposited on the ground between the two assembled parties, and then they all seat themselves and eat together, a thing that was not done under ordinary conditions.
There is no challenging during the above function. Matters were conducted differently during the reception of an ordinary party of visitors, and on the occasion of an important
mareikura performance was not included. In this latter function an able and comely young woman was selected to kakariki the song, that is to act as a conductor.
Our survey of the Maori at war now comes to an end. We have undergone the sacred rites of the Tohi taua, and marched with the kawau māro under the tapu of the gods. We have offered the heart of the “first fish” to those gods, and have seen man flow like water down to Rarohenga. We have smitten the enemy beneath the shining sun, and brought back the māwe to the sacred places. The war trail is now grass grown and untrodden by man; the old Earth Mother no longer trembles to the rhythmic thunder of the war dance.
Even so has man learned the truth of the old saying: “He toa taumata rau” (Bravery and fame have many resting places).
The pa maori not known in Polynesia,—Pa and kainga—Old forts numerous in certain areas—Areas remarkable for remains of old forts—Fewer forts in forest districts—Situation of old forts—Different types of forts—Illustrations lacking—Names of types of forts—Methods of fortification—Extensive fortified villages denote extensive cultivation—Forts seen by Captain Cook—Ramparts, fosses, stockades and scarps as leading features—Defenders stationed on ramparts, not behind them—Series of stockades—The outer elevated screen—Watchmen—Oblique stockades—Fighting stages—Gateways—Entrance passages—Interior of fortified villages—Water supply—Modes of attack—Circumvallation—Sieges—Children sold as, and for food—The desperate attack on Awatoto. Approach of enemy force; its effect—Ceremonial pertaining to the building of a fort—The bird releasing act—Names of defensive works—Maori aptitude for fortification—Cliff forts—Island forts and refuges—Introduction of firearms—The “gun fighter's” pa—Enemies sell fascines to British sappers!—Fortified villages of Fiji; of Tonga; of Melanesia—Origin of the pa maori.
One of the most interesting features of old-time Maori life was their method of fortifying their villages. The defensive earthworks, of which thousands are yet in evidence, form a highly interesting study, and in no part of Polynesia do we find similar remains. Those of the Marquesas Group, and of Rapa Island are not to be compared to the pa maori (native forts) of New Zealand.
It were well that we commence this purview with a clear understanding as to what the word pa denotes, as used in this connection. As a verb pa means “to obstruct, to block up.” As a noun it is applied to a screen, anything used to obstruct, or to block an open space, hence to defensive works, and so a fortified village is termed a pa. An open village, having no defensive works, is styled a kainga, a word also used as meaning “place of residence, home.”
In olden days a community often dwelt in both these forms of village. Near the fortified village would be situated an open one in which many of the people dwelt. When alarmed by the advance of an enemy force the residents of the kainga would retire to the protection of the pa, taking with them their chattels and any food supplies handy.
It is quite clear that, in pre-European days, some districts were much more peaceful than others. Hence dwelling in fortified villages was much more common in some districts than in others. When one notes the sites of old hamlets of bygone centuries, as denoted by shell heaps, the middens of neolithic man, many of them situated in places that could not be defended, such as the mouth of a gorge, then it is clear that, to permit of long residence in such places, prolonged periods of peace must have prevailed. This aspect is noted in the Wellington district, and the cause of such a condition is probably to be found in the fact that the old-time folk of this and surrounding districts were a more homogeneous people than was usually to be found holding so large an area of country. For these were all Takitumu folk, and, although they sometimes fought among themselves, yet blood is ever thicker than water. In some districts, where the bounds of lands of several tribes marched across fair lying country, fighting was much more common.
Of the fortified villages of the South Island there is little to record. It is quite evident that defensive earthworks were not employed there as they were in the North Island, and there was perhaps less fighting. Remains of old fortified positions in the south are a negligible quantity.
It must be explained that certain areas in the North Island are remarkable for the great number of old fortified places still to be seen. In some other districts they are much less numerous, and in yet others they are few and far between. The formation of some districts did not lend itself to the construction of earthwork defences. Thus, in the Wellington district, at most places that would have been considered good sites for fortified villages the rock is too near the surface to permit of excavation of fosses, and so we see very few remains of old earthworks. Those that are seen are very
pa builders. The Napier district has comparatively few remains of such, yet in many places there was no serious obstacle to excavation.
The districts that are remarkable for numerous remains of pa are Taranaki, the Bay of Plenty, and the far north, from Auckland isthmus northward. The Hauraki district is also said to contain many such remains, but they have never been described, and the present writer is unacquainted with the district. It is quite probable that the districts wherein the remains of old forts are most numerous were those in which fighting was most common. Certainly they are most numerous in districts where cultivation of food supplies was most carried on, and that means where the native population was greatest.
There is another matter to be noted, and that is the fact that the aspect of a district influenced the building of fortified villages. Areas in which agriculture was much practised were fairly open lands, if not level country, and in such places a pa formed the only refuge for a threatened people. In forest districts, however, the Maori relied much on that forest as a refuge in times of danger, in some cases almost entirely so. Thus, when the writer asked Tamaikoha why the Tuhoe folk did not dwell in fortified villages in former times, that grim, tattooed old savage replied: “We had no need to. The rugged canyons were our stockades; the steep ranges and dense forests were our earthworks.”
So that when a forest impinged upon a place of residence of a community the people looked upon it as a refuge, or, as the Maori would put it, as a fostering and protecting parent. In some cases a community would have a punanga in an adjacent forest, a secret place of refuge to which refugees might retire in the time of need.
The pa maori included four different modes of defence, ramparts, fosses, scarps and stockades. The pa tuwatawata was a village defended by stockade only, one or more lines thereof. The pa maioro was a village defended by ramparts,
pa there were differing forms.
As to the sites of these old strongholds of neolithic man, the Maori ever preferred to construct them on a height, on a hill top, or spur, or headland. Many are situated on the brink of a terrace. On level land, such as a plain or a wide valley, the village builders would often select the bank of a river where there was a considerable fall to the water. Those situated on a ridge or spur are generally on a knoll so that the ground slopes downward from the defences on all sides. In some cases excellent sites were chosen on a projecting headland having vertical sides and but a narrow neck connecting it with high land. In such cases as these the defensive works are reduced to a minimum. Island forts were occupied in some places, the most interesting of these being artificial islets formed in lakes, lagoons and swamps. The Mua-upoko folk at one time had a form of aerial pa at Whakahoro, near Manakau, where several families lived in huts standing on platforms constructed among the branches of several lofty white pine trees.
Fortified villages of the pa tuwatawata type, that is defended by stockades, were of several different kinds. A peculiar and interesting type is that so much used on the Auckland isthmus and the long peninsula north of it. This method consisted of excavating the sides of a hill so as to form a series of terraces. These terraces were defended by stockades extending along their outer edges; no fosses or ramparts were used. Such large fortified hill villages as those of Mount Eden and One Tree Hill at Auckland must have accommodated thousands of inhabitants, and were assuredly highly picturesque places, with their numerous stockaded terraces.
In the Taranaki district one meets with the rampart and fosse, often combined with the system described above. The same styles are seen in the Bay of Plenty. The old Maruiwi and Mamoe villages at Heipipi and Otatara, Napier district, show yet another method of laying out a hill village. In neither place is a single long terrace seen, but the whole occupied area has been covered with innumerable linchets, diminutive terraces to accommodate one or two huts. At Heipipi two
One of the most interesting forms of earthwork defences is that composed of several lines of ramparts or walls, and fosses. In such cases stockades were merely an adjunct to the earthworks. Earthwork ramparts again were of two kinds. One form was marked by a low rampart, on the top of which was a strong stockade. The other form consisted of a much higher and wider rampart on which no stockade was erected, but the top of it was wide enough to accommodate defenders armed with long spears. To the height of such a rampart, say eight feet or more, must be added the depth of the fosse at its outer base, which would be probably not less than five feet.
It is a singular fact that no early observer has left us either a good description or illustration of a Maori fortified village. Descriptions in early works are meagre and inadequate, while the few sketch designs are even worse. Nor has anything worthy of note been done in later times to describe the interesting pa maori save the paper on that subject by Mr.
It is of much interest to note Banks's remarks concerning native life on the East Coast in 1769. South of East Cape the natives seen were living in the open, not in fortified positions. He states that no forts were seen on that part of the coast, but doubtless they existed. According to the evidence of others there was probably a fortified place on or near the Titirangi hill at Turanga. Banks also tells us that, in the Bay of Plenty and far north the natives were found to be living in fortified villages. In some places the remains of old fortified positions show that small positions only were constructed, and but few of them, as Porirua for example. The people of this
The only old pre-European fort of which a plan and sections were published, as long ago as 1845, is the one known as pa erected at Rotorua is but a meet object for scorn. It is a combination of a modern gun-fighter's position and a European redoubt. A better one was erected by the Tuhoe natives; it has the aparua defensive system and a fighting stage to protect the entrance. A model of a stockaded village in the Dominion Museum, constructed by Mr. J. McDonald, is worthy of note.
Some of the old earthworks of England, according to published descriptions, must strongly resemble those of the Maori in general aspect, though larger. The statement that over 20,000 old forts have been noted in the small island of Ireland is one that we can readily believe. They were probably needed.
The following names denote different kinds of defensive positions of olden days:—
Pa taua and Pa whawhai—Generally termed “fighting
pa.” Fortified villages.Pa maioro or Pa manioro—A village with defences of earthworks.
Pa tuwatawata—A stockaded village; no ramparts.
Pa kokori or Pa korikori—An inferior place. A few huts surrounded by a single inferior stockade, as at a fishing camp, or at a cultivation ground distant from the village home.
Pa tahora—Any second-rate stockaded village of a clan.
Pa whakairo or Pa whakanoho—A main village having first-class defences, ramparts, fosses, stockades, fighting stages, defended passages, and carved entrance and main posts. Also protected by a
mauri or talisman.Pa punanga—A place of refuge, as in a forest.
Pa ukiuki—This expression denotes a permanently occupied defensive place.
The Maori did not favour forming a defensive position merely to be occupied in case of necessity, but chose to dwell within the defences in most cases. Any surplus population, however, might live outside the defences, to retire within them in case of an attack. Again such an outside residential area
Special names were assigned to all villages and hamlets, however small, whether defensive positions or otherwise. The human figures carved on the main posts of a stockade were usually named after ancestors. Superior houses, elevated storehouses and pits for food storage were also named.
Our list of pa maori or native forts may be divided into three classes, of which hill forts are conveniently subdivided into four minor classes:—
As observed, a flat land position may possess a deep scarp on one or more sides, as when situated on a river bank, or the brink of a terrace. The pa mentioned above is a good example of the latter form. The edge of the terrace has been defended by a stockade only. The other sides have been protected by massive ramparts and fosses, still existing; stockades have, of course, long disappeared.
The A Class hill forts are, naturally, of many forms, according to the formation of the top of the ridge or spur. The native engineer was always keen to take advantage of the contour of the ground, hence old-time forts are of all imaginable forms, except rectangular; that form is but very seldom seen. In some cases a series of knolls on a ridge top have been fortified, but not the intermediate lower ground, unless it was by stockade only.
In seeking a site on a spur the Maori sought a place where the spur formed a knoll, or had a short level stretch. At such a place he would form the uppermost defence of fosse, rampart and stockade. He would then mark the lines of his defensive system on either side of the spur, according to the contour of the ground. Thus where an abrupt steep existed he would run his line along the top thereof. Where the ground had a more gradual slope much might be accomplished by
Of the B type hill forts those formed on the volcanic cones of the Auckland district are fine examples. Another kind is seen on small volcanic mesas, isolated hillocks, as in the Taranaki district. In subdivision C we find innumerable examples in many districts. Some are points projecting horizontally from a terrace or plateau, some on headlands extending out into lake, ocean or swamp. Among cliff forts we find some highly picturesque positions, such as Paritutu, at New Plymouth, and Pohatu-roa at Atiamuri. Island forts did not admit of much in the way of artificial defences; water was their main defence, as against an enemy force not provided with canoes.
The one feature lacking in old native defensive works was that of regularity; nothing was regular save irregularity. The Maori ran his lines of defence where he thought they would do the most good, or be the most effective, regardless of what the general contour of such works might be. So long as he enclosed the required area of ground all was deemed well. Possessing only the weapons of neolithic man, and having no formidable missile weapons to face, he laid off no bastions, flanking angles, or traverses; those came with firearms in modern times. Scarps he well knew the value of, as also the effectiveness of a stockade at the summit of a steep scarp. At certain weak places he designed an extra line of stockade, or a fosse, or rampart, possibly a fighting stage. The entrance passage he laid off in manner tortuous, or with lateral defences, or a stage, and a covering stockade or rampart to blind the entrance thereto. His terraced hill forts showed no continuous terrace of one level; they were broken by abrupt changes of level, each such break being defended by a cross stockade.
All fortified positions of any size were subdivided into areas having minor defences. Where no terraces were formed
whanau or family group. When an enemy succeeded in entering such a position the experience must have been like that of entering a hornet's nest, unless the defenders were demoralised.
Many of those old fortified places are remarkably interesting, and many days has the present writer spent in tracing the defences of the hill villages of former centuries, fosse, vallum, scarp and stockade. The various devices to protect the main entrance are of special interest. Many of these long-deserted homes are covered with dense forest growth; some have huge trees growing in the old ditches. When accompanied by some old native acquainted with the history of the fort, he would explain the defences, and then relate stories of “…old, unhappy, far-off things and fights fought long ago.”
Several early writers speak of seeing occupied villages on low ground, but situated near the protecting hill fort. It was this aspect of protection that caused a fortified place to be often referred to as a kohanga, or nest. In some cases refuges in unpleasing situations were not occupied in times of peace. In times of danger the occupants of the picturesque hill forts made all snug at night. The makeshift bridges over the deep trenches were removed, the gateways were closed, the ladders against terrace scarps were drawn up, the watchman occupied one of the puwhara or elevated platforms secured to the stockades. In the far north the numerous remains of large hill forts, the many old store pits, the signs that swamps were once drained, and large areas cleared of stones to permit of the cultivation of the soil,—show that the country must once have supported a large population.
In many of those old terraced hill forts may be seen the sites of many, many huts of barbaric man, each marked by its takuahi or small pit fireplace lined with four stones, as they were left when the place was abandoned a century or more ago. Inasmuch as all these rows of huts, as well as the larger houses, were covered with thatch, it can readily be seen what a danger fire would be. Hence an attacking force often
There is a marked difference in the size of old fortified places in different districts. In districts when cultivated food products could not be grown in large quantities one naturally expects to find small pa, but they are also found in warmer districts possessed of much fertile land. In the northern peninsula we find many large hill forts, as on the Auckland isthmus, where much of the land about must have been cropped. In Taranaki, however, where the cultivated food products of the Maori also throve, the old forts are of small size, and the same may be said of the old Bay of Plenty forts. The Napier district has but few of these remains, yet one, Otatara, has been estimated to cover 80 acres. Wakefield mentions an occupied pa, the outer stockades of which were a mile in circumference “and the various passazes between the different courts and divisions formed a perfect labyrinth.”
It would appear that the population of the northern parts of the North Island has, at some time in the past, been much more numerous than it was when Europeans arrivel here, but our information is not precise enough to enable us to speak with any certainty. Still some fortified places contained many people in missionary days. The Rev. Mr. Williams found 2,000 fighting men in the Whakawhiti pa at Waiapu in 1834.
Mr. S. Percy Smith tells us that a pa near White Cliffs was protected by a fosse 25 feet in depth on one side, the other sides being vertical cliffs. The Okuratope pa a Waimate was defended by three deep trenches and three line of stockade. It contained about 200 huts, as seen in 1815.
When the Maori lacked a hill site for his fortified village he would look round for a koinga wai or river bend. If the bank of the river was high and steep the site would be approved of, there being only one face on which the system of defence would have to be an elaborate one. Hill forts were more easily defended than others in olden times of rude weapons. Old natives have told me that there was much discussion and deliberation over the laying off of a new fort.
Tasman makes no mention of seeing any fortified positions on the New Zealand coast, and the attack of his boat
pa maori. The first seen by Cook was apparently situated on the hill near the mouth of the river at Gisborne. Banks tells us that “We could plainly see a regular paling, pretty high, inclosing the top of a hill, for what purpose many conjectures were made; most are of opinion that it must be either a park of deer, or a field of oxen and sheep.”
Cook describes a headland fort at Mercury Bay defended by rampart and fosse. From the top of this rampart to the bottom of the trench was a steep slope of 22 feet. The fosse itself was 14 feet in depth. There had been a stockade on the top of the rampart and another on the outer side of the fosse; the latter was so erected as to lean inward. The place had been burned, presumably by an attacking force. Now that stockade on the rampart would have been not less than 9 or 10 feet in height, so that this defence presented a very formidable obstacle at least 31 feet in height. Little chance would neolithic man have to pass this barrier, save by aid of fire or starvation.
Of another headland fort in the same district Cook remarks that it was defended by two trenches, a rampart and two lines of stockade. The inner line of stockade occupied the summit of the rampart, but the rampart was sufficiently wide on the top to allow of the defenders occupying it repelling an attack. The outer line of stockade was between the two trenches and leaned inward over the inner trench. The scarp presented by the rampart and inner slope of the inner trench was one of 24 feet, and to this must be added the height of the stockade, a barrier of about 34 feet in all. The account proceeds: “Close within the inner picketing was erected by strong posts a stage of 30 feet high and 40 feet in length, and 6 feet broad. The use of this stage was to stand upon to throw darts at the assailants, and a number of darts lay upon it for that purpose.” He mentions a similar fighting stage near the entrance to the fort. There were also some small outworks protecting small groups of huts occupied by persons who
Within the above fort the sloping ground had been levelled to form terraces to serve as hut sites, such as are frequently seen. Each of these formations had a palisading round it, with small gateways; the communications were narrow lanes. The main entrance into the fort was a narrow passage 12 feet long, defended by a fighting stage. Large supplies of fern root and dried fish were in the place; the water supply was at the foot of the hill. In this account we see how a Maori village was defended. There can be no question of European influence in Cook's time, and it is clear that the Maori was an able deviser of defensive works.
Cook remarks that certain rocks or small islets were also occupied by the natives as strongholds in that vicinity. He proceeds: “Many works of this kind we have seen upon small islands and rocks, and ridges of hills on parts of the coast, besides a great number of fortified towns, to all appearances vastly superior to this I have described.” He was speaking of the Bay of Plenty coastline, and that onward to Mercury Bay.
The fort described above has been identified as that known as Whare-kaho (see Transactions of the New Zealand Institute, Vol. 35, p. 30). It was occupied by a clan named Ngati-Hei, and Capt.
Banks tells us that the stockades of Whare-kaho were 10 feet in height, and that of the fighting stage 20 feet; on it were heaps of stones and bundles of darts. He explains that the residential terraces within the fort differed much in size, some accomodating two or three huts, others twelve or fourteen.
The small entrances in stockades were closed by sliding bars or some similar device. Military writers have told us that the Royal Engineers could teach the barbaric Maori nothing in connection with these defensive works, but that they adopted certain Maori devices. The narrow entrance lane (ngutu) sometimes gave upon a long alley called the waharoa, from which branched off certain side alleys.
The earthwork defences of the old native forts were ramparts, fosses and scarps. Bastions and casemates, etc., are modern introductions; they were not needed in the days of native weapons. We sometimes see the fosse without any rampart in old hill forts, as when cut across a narrow ridge. The common method was to utilise the spoil from the trench to form a rampart on its inner brink, so that the outer slope of the rampart and the inner one of the trench formed a single scarp. Occasionally one sees a low rampart or parapet along the outer edge of a terrace without any trench, but in most cases the Maori preferred to combine rampart and trench, with the trench on the outer side. In some cases one sees clear evidence of a stockade on the top of the counterscarp of the trench in the form of the decayed butts of large posts. By adding to that defence a stockade of heavy timbers not less than nine or ten feet in height the neolithic engineer had a very formidable line of defence as against assailants armed with weapons of the stone age. In some old forts we see two or three, even four such lines.
When the outer defence of a hill fort is a steeply scarped face, one sometimes sees a trench at the base thereof, doubtless to increase the height of the scarp. We occasionally see these outer scarps of hill forts upwards of 20 feet in height. A stockade of ten feet on its summit would give the assailants 30ft. or more of a defence to face, and in such cases escalade was almost impossible. Again, at the base of such a scarp is sometimes seen a fosse with a massive rampart on its outer side, on which another stockade would be erected.
We do not see any signs of earthen banquettes inside the ramparts. The Maori does not seem to have stationed himself behind heavy earthworks in pre-gun days. He preferred to stand on the summit of the rampart. It is possible that, in the case of a small rampart, the defender stood behind it, but then small ramparts were few in pre-European days. It was the musket that drove the Maori from the broad summit of his rampart to seek refuge behind it.
On level ground the outermost defence was usually a trench, and a similar one is sometimes seen in hill forts. These trenches are seen up to 20 feet in depth, and a width of 12
In some old pa having several lines of earthwork defences they are close together, as sometimes seen in the case of an isolated hill, the summit of which was the residential area. In other cases these lines of defence are some distance apart, with residential areas between them. This has come about either through the contour of the ground, or as a result of increase in the number of inhabitants of the fortified area. In some old positions one seems to see that a place has been so enlarged by forming another line of defence to enclose an additional area.
The narrow space between a stockade erected on a rampart and the outer scarp of the rampart is the paekiri. It might be wide enough to walk along, but it was sloped downward and outward to render the passage difficult; also, in case of attack, it was liberally besprinkled with water in order to render it slippery and impassable. If any man attempted to make the passage then the prodding spears thrust through the palisades, and the stones showered on him, would soon discourage him. Crozet the Frenchman only succeeded in passing along such a narrow way by means of his muskets.
The term maioro denotes, not only earthen ramparts, but also a trench or fosse, thus recalling our word moat with its double meaning.
Awakari is a generic term for trenches, but the fosse outside an outer line of defence is called an awamate, while one inside is a whakaawarua. The primitive tools employed in forming earthworks and working down escarpments were the ko, wauwau or pinaki, rapa maire, koko, and okooko. The first was a digging stick to be explained later. A short form of this tool used in pa forming was the kaurori take or kaurori pa. The second was a short sharp pointed wooden tool used to loosen soil, the third a wooden spade, and the fourth a wooden scoop or short-handed shovel. The last was a scoop for earth fashioned much like a canoe baler. The loosened earth was placed in baskets and carried up to form
toi and toiki, was used instead of a flax (Phormium) basket.
The binding material used in building up ramparts would be bracken in most cases, sometimes manuka brush. Alternate layers of earth and bracken, carefully lined and carried up, form a sightly and durable wall. During the late unpleasantness of 50-60 years ago, our redoubts were built in the native style, and many still stand, albeit more or less eroded. The writer has a vivid recollection of that task, and the solidifying of the layers of earth by the tramping of a squad of men. But that was in the “seventies,” and very long ago. The alternate layers of long, twisted bracken were termed whakapuru.
Stone-faced ramparts and scarps are occasionally seen, and for these koperu and parihi seem to be descriptive names. There are a number of such places on the Hauraki peninsula, and they are occasionally seen elsewhere.
A common form of defence in hill forts was that consisting of escarped slopes, excavation of a hill side to form a steep, in some formations an almost vertical wall of defence. It is seen in conjunction with stockades (only) on such hill forts as those of Auckland, where deep excavations were made to form residential terraces. In other cases we see numberless cases of scarped hillsides where the aim was simply to form a steep batter as a defence; it would be surmounted by a stockade. In ridge positions one often sees the sides so scarped, while across the ridge, at both ends of the fortified areas, are ramparts and trenches, formerly supplemented by stockades. The slope of batters hinged upon the nature of the formation. Terraces were termed tuku, rengarenga, upane-pane, parehua, and whakahua.
The heavy timber stockades of the old pre-European forts differed widely from those of modern musket days, in that they were much stronger. The common form of stockade was erected in a vertical position, but occasionally they were so erected as to lean inward or outward. A superior place might have four lines of stockades in addition to ramparts, trenches and escarpments. In the case of a terraced hill fort, such as
In most superior fortified places one of the lines of stockade would be stronger than that of the others, and this was termed the katua. It was in this stockade that the principal gateway was situated, flanked in some cases by carved posts. The main posts would have on their summits a carved image of a man, grotesquely hewn, while the tops of the secondary posts were hewn into the form of large round or ovoid knobs. In some pa the entrance way was cut out of a huge slab or flatted balk, which towered high above the stockade and was adorned with carved designs. The orthodox series of stockades of a superior place was as follows:—
This was an ideal arrangement, and, as we all know, in many cases ideals are not attained.
The outermost stockade, or pekerangi, was apparently the lightest structure. It was a form of elevated screen. The palisades (wana, wawa) were lashed to the rails but not inserted in the earth. The bottom ends thereof were suspended about a foot from the ground. Defenders stationed within the second stockade thrust their long spears through between its palisades and underneath the outer screen. The latter being elevated the spearmen had plenty of play for their weapons, and so could swerve the point to right or left, as necessary.
The second stockade stood about two to three feet from the outer screen. As a rule there seem to have been three rails. These were lashed to the inner sides of the posts with strong tough, durable aka (stems of climbing plants). The palisades were lashed to the inside of the rails (huahua, roau). Thus, should an enemy force attempt to pull down a length of stockade by throwing a rope and bar over it, they had the deeply set posts to pull against, the rails being secured to their inner sides.
In all stockades save the main one, the posts were plain ones, and of about the same size. They might differ in height, as palisades did, for the Maori never sought regularity in these matters. These posts were usually about six feet apart and ten feet or so in height. The taller posts of the main fence were much higher. These were not placed at regular intervals, but at angles and other prominent parts, and were sometimes as much as 30 feet in height, and 2 feet in diameter. The secondary posts of the main fence were numerous. The tall posts were sunk five or six feet in the earth, the shorter ones about three or four feet.
The carved figures of grotesque form on the tops of the superior posts of the main fence always faced outward. They were often provided with countersunk eyes of Haliotis shell, and were named after ancestors. The aspect of these images often betokened defiance. When a so-called model stockade was erected at Papawai some years ago, a leading chief decided that the carved figures on the posts should face inward. He explained that in these peaceful times there is no longer any danger of an attack on a fort from without, but that, so far as he could see, present enemies or dangers are all internal.
In Tongan forts, as described by Mariner, defenders were stationed on the tops of the ramparts, as in New Zealand. The Tongan pa was not of local origin, but a borrowed usage from Fiji. There was a close resemblance between the various devices of the pa maori of New Zealand and those of the hill forts of Fiji.
In some parts of the east coast of the North Island a system of defence consisted of a heavy outer stockade, on the inner side of which was a trench. Inside of the trench came another stockade, the posts of which were shorter than those of the outer one; then came an earthen wall, a rampart, as an innermost defence. No stockade was situated on the rampart, the summit of which was wide enough to accomodate defenders. Two methods of lashing stockades were employed—the apatahi and kauaerua. One is a single tie lashing, the other a crossed one, but both are running lashings.
The Okuratope pa at Waimate, as seen by Nicholas in 1814, consisted of a strong stockade as the outermost defence,
On the summit of this hill fort was standing a pourewa or lookout stage. It was a huge slab hewn out of a tree and was 20 feet long and 3 feet wide, elevated on a single massive trunk of timber 6 feet high. It commanded an extensive view of the surrounding country and formed a favoured lounging place of the chief of the place.
The pa at Waerenga-a-Hika attacked by colonial troops in 1865 showed many massive posts of puriri, or New Zealand teak, as some call it. These were about 18 inches in diameter, and of great weight, a fact that the writer is well aware of, inasmuch as he had the task of manhandling many of them and hewing them into square balks, during which process the broad axe sliced through innumerable leaden bullets. This timber, with totara, and heart of kowhai, when obtainable of required size, were considered excellent material for stockade posts, of so durable a nature are they.
Stockade rails might be either saplings or split timber; the most durable were of the latter kind. A strong crossed lashing secured them to the inner sides of the massive posts. The palisades lashed to the inner sides of the rails were roughsplit timbers of irregular lengths set in the earth and very firmly secured to the three or four horizontal rails. The following ditty was sometimes chaunted by men engaged in lashing a stockade, a task that had to be performed periodically:—
(Here is the stockade; here is the vine being bound; here am I, the bait, within.) This was also used as a watch song.
The labour of hauling the huge posts used in many old forts up to the hill tops must have been severe. It was effected by man power alone, lines of men hauling on ropes to the lilt of a time song. The lines of these songs were short, as the following portion of one shows:—
The haulers all exerted themselves in unison to these chaunts.
When erecting a heavy post one side of the deep hole was cut down to a downward slant, and a wooden slab placed against the opposite vertical side. The post was laid with its butt end over the slanting trench. The head was lifted and supported by a tokorangi, or “horse,” composed of two stout poles lashed together in X form. As it was raised higher, and the “horse” was moved forward, the butt end entered the trench and slid down it until checked by the vertical slab which prevented gouging of the earth. Two hauling ropes were then attached to the head of the post and passed over a gallows so as to get a lifting purchase, after which the heavy post was quickly swung up to another form of hauling song. One of these songs is said to have been that used in the night of time when the heavens were forced up on high; hence it must be of great antiquity.
A peculiar implement, called a matarau, was used in some parts when sinking a deep hole to receive a post. It consisted of many rod-like pieces of wood lashed firmly on to the end of a wooden shaft some five feet in length. It thus resembled a stiff form of birch broom. Having loosened the earth in the bottom of the hole with the ko, the delver took his matarau and
ko again brought into use.
When the outer defence of a village was a stockade, that fact implied that defenders were numerous, plenty of men were available to prevent an attacking force destroying the stockade by means of fire. Defenders had a distressing time when attempts were made to burn a stockade; they had to remain at their posts with long spears in the midst of stifling smoke.
A strong, well-defended village was implied by the old saying of “He umauma tangata, he umauma rakau.” It alludes to human breasts and wooden breasts, men and stockades, that defy all attacks.
In some districts the pekerangi, or outermost palisading, the raised screen, was not vertical, but inclined inward at the top toward the inner upright stockade. This is the wita of the east coast. The only advantage to be gained by this device, apparently, was in cases where a fighting stage was erected on the inner side of the second stockade. Men stationed on that stage could then lunge with their long spears down the outer face of the inward sloping screen at any assailants. This outer double stockade defence is styled the aparua. We have notes to the effect that, in some cases, a trench was excavated outside the pekerangi, or elevated screen, into which trench the huata spears of the men of the fighting stages could be lunged. The expression wa patiki was sometimes applied to the space between two lines of stockades, but it does not appear to be a special term for it. The entrance to a pa was often a small one about four feet high and two wide, or even smaller, a person entering having to stoop and also step over a low form of stile or barrier, called the ahuriri. These openings were blocked at night with a series of bars.
Puwhara and pourewa (fighting stages) were elevated platforms which often formed an important feature in the defence scheme of native villages. They were erected as
huata spears were a formidable weapon used from such commanding positions. Stones were kept piled up on the stages at all times ready for use; they were thrown by hand. When thrown by hand from a height of 15 or 20 feet they are a truly formidable weapon in close fighting. Missile spears were also used, crude forms, not carefully finished weapons. They may be termed darts. They were thrown by means of a whip, and sometimes by hand.
We have noted one of these fighting stages seen by Capt. Cook as 40ft. long, 6ft. wide, and elevated 20ft. above ground. They were built close against the inner side of the stockade, and, in some cases, they projected outward over the top of the lofty stockade. The stages were provided with a form of wooden bulwark, termed papatu, round their outer edges, as some protection to the men from stones and darts; these defences were about 4ft. in height.
Crozet has described these stages as seen at the Bay of Islands in 1772:—“Inside the village, at the side of the gate, there is a sort of timber platform about 25ft. high, the posts being about 18in. to 20in. diameter and sunk solidly in the ground. The people climb on to this sort of advance post by means of a post with footsteps cut into it. A considerable collection of stones and short javelins is always kept there, and when they fear an attack they picket the sentinels there. The platforms are roomy enough to hold fifteen or twenty fighting men.”
It was, as Crozet states, on one of these stages that the kaimataara, or watchmen, were stationed. They passed the night in singing watch songs. If the village possessed a wooden gong it would be suspended on the stage occupied by the watchman, and he would occasionally beat it. These Maoriland sentries did not remain silent; they strove to proclaim to lurking enemies that the village was on the alert. If considered necessary several watchmen would be employed.
Some of the old watch songs are lengthy effusions, others are brief. When rendered by a powerful and harmonious voice some are very impressive. They are termed koko and whakaaraara, and a number of them have been collected.
Stages that projected outward over the stockade were known as kotaretare. They were extremely useful when the enemy employed anything in the form of a tortoise. In some parts the name taumaihi was applied to an elevated platform in a pa. The evidence shows that in some cases the projecting stages sloped upward to their outer ends. These stages were also a feature of village defences at Fiji, and also in the fortified places of Tonga, where the protective bulwark was also employed. The sloping stage was employed in New Guinea.
In some fortified villages a fighting stage was erected on one side of the entrance, in other cases there was one or more on each side of such entrance passage. Yet another plan was to have one immediately over the entrance passage, so that all persons entering the place had to pass beneath it. If an attacking force succeeded in forcing a passage through the outer stockade defence, which was sometimes effected by means of fire, then the defenders fell back on the rampart, taking up their stations on the wide tops thereof. An attacking enemy has been known to erect stages some little distance from a pa wherefrom to cast missiles into it. What may be termed fiery darts were also cast into besieged places in the hope of burning the huts, which would mean the fall of the place.
A small form of stage (pourewa) was sometimes supported by one pillar only. The support would be a tree trunk with portions of its branches to which the supporting beams of the stage were secured. If any heads of slain enemies were secured during a fight those heads would be suspended from the ends of poles lashed to a stage in a slanting position, or stuck on the palisades. This procedure was supposed to unnerve the enemy. In one fight of the “sixties” of last century an enemy garrison so exposed bodies of our dead, an act that utterly failed to unnerve the Forest Ranger type of bush fighter, as they proved to the discomfiture of the gentle savage.
Gateways and entrance passages to fortified villages were never capacious ones, but those of the outer defences were often smaller than inner ones, so that a person had to stoop and enter them head first, as it were. The actual gateway or opening in the outer defence was the kuwaha, or waha ngutu. The overlap form of an outer stockade sometimes employed was the ngutu. Going along the narrow passage one passed through the kuwaha into the waharoa, or araroa, a lane-like passage leading into the inner area of the village. This lane was stockaded on both sides. Occasionally a ngutu was constructed inside the gateway. Entering the gateway one passed along a narrow passage parallel and close to the outer stockade or rampart, and then emerged into the waharoa. Occasionally several ngutu are said to have been constructed, so that a person performed a kind of countermarching when entering a village. This arrangement was known as an ara whakatara. Yet again the outer ngutu was sometimes open at both ends; it covered the gateway as a blind, to prevent an enemy having direct access to it. The gateway at the inner end of the waharoa is termed the waha tieke. When it was necessary to cross a fosse in entering a fortified village a few loose timbers formed the means to do so. These would be easily removed when necessary.
The passage way from one terrace to another of a hill fort was in some cases a sunken way that could be easily defended. Any form of short or detached rampart or stockade to cover an entrance way or weak place may be styled a takurua. I have heard of a form of tunnel passage constructed under a rampart in order to give access to the inner area. Also of several cases in which a form of tunnel was excavated leading from the interior of a pa under all defensive works outward to a bush gully hard by. This was evidently intended as a means of escape for the inmates should the place fall to an enemy, or be considered untenable.
In some old forts when a person passed through the outer defence he had to traverse the space between the first and second lines for some distance ere reaching the gateway of the latter, thus no two gateways were opposite each other. Having
waharoa passage to traverse. At some old forts earthwork defences of small area are sometimes seen without the main work; presumably these were deemed to be of a protective nature, a kind of ravelin.
The pekerangi, or outer elevated screen, did not, of course, extend across the outer entrance to the fort. A form of hurdle was sometimes employed whereby to block a gateway. Another method was represented by horizontal bars, yet another by vertical timbers. The entrance might be at an angle, or in a tiaroa (curtain) of the outermost defence, according to the nature of the ground. The space above the small gateway was often blocked by palisades so as to correspond in height with the stockade on either side.
The fences often erected within a pa to enclose the huts of each whanau were styled taiepa kotikoti. The principal chief of a hill fort usually resided in its uppermost area, the toi or tihi. Prominent men were leaders in all work necessary to keep the village clean, and it was not an uncommon occurrence for them to join in such tasks. In every village there was one or more places where refuse was thrown. If a cliff or steep slope were handy the midden was probably situated thereat, all rubbish being thrown over the cliff head. Latrines (paepae, turuma) were situated at similar places. At places where shellfish entered into the food supply are still seen many old middens.
The water supply of hill forts was often a serious question. Inasmuch as these forts were constructed on hill peaks and ridge tops, it follows that few had a water supply situated within the lines of defence. This was the weak point of the hill forts of the Maori. If an attacking force decided to besiege a fortified village it would cut off the water supply, which would in the end mean disaster to the inmates of the place. Yet cases are on record in which such places have held out for many months, often suffering very severe privations. At the same time long-drawn sieges do not appear to have been by any means a common practice, to judge from tribal traditions. In some cases the food supply became a serious question with the besiegers.
Were not these isles specially favoured as to rainfall and general humidity, the Maori would have been much worse off in his hill forts. Many times, when seeking the water supply of an old fort situated on a high range or isolated peak, has the writer found permanent springs of water within a hundred yards of the outer defences. Tradition tells us of desperate sorties made from besieged villages for the purpose of obtaining water. We are told that water was stored to some extent in a village that expected an attack. We see at some of the long abandoned pa sites a trench extending down hill to the nearest water supply. These trenches were either covered ways or protected by stockades on either side. This device is seen at the Ruaki pa, near Hawera, and at Hau-kapua, near Ruatoki.
When the Waikato natives were besieging the otaka pa at New Plymouth, they adopted an ingenious device whereby to cut off the water supply of the fort. The besieged folk had access to their water supply, a small stream, and the water of this stream was rendered undrinkable by the attacking force. Having succeeded in slaying a woman of the besieged people, they cut up her body ready to put in the oven, and washed the portions in the waters of the stream on the up-stream side of the pa. This act rendered the waters tapu to the besieged, who could no longer drink of it. The besieged were fortunate in being able to obtain water by sinking a well.
Wooden vessels, termed kumete, kuta wai, koehe wai, etc., were sometimes used to store water in. They were of a considerable size. Gourd vessels were used for the same purpose. In a few cases we know that water was conserved in pits excavated in clay or other deposits impervious to water. In some cases they were filled by hand, in other we are told that storm water was conducted into them, as at Tunu-haere pa, on the Whanganui river. This fortified village was occupied as late as the year 1845. The Maori was unfortunate in that he was unable to conserve for drinking purposes rain water from the roof of a dwelling hut. Such an act would be disastrous, for it would be an infringement of tapu. When a spring of water was situated near the outer lines of a fort an extra line of defence might be carried round it.
When one face of a fort consisted of a vertical cliff, at the base of which was a river or lake, a peculiar contrivance was sometimes employed to obtain water in times of stress. A stout sapling with a crotched head was set up at the brink of the cliff, leaning outward. By means of a rope running in the crotch a vessel enclosed in a wicker-work creel was lowered into the water and then hauled up to the cliff head.
So strong were all well-constructed forts that they were seldom taken by assault. They were sometimes taken by surprise, occasionally by siege, or fire. An attacking force always endeavoured to approach unseen, and would probably halt some distance away and send out scouts under cover of night to examine the defences of the village to be attacked. It sometimes occurred that a weak place would be found whereat an entry might be made stealthily by means of a rude form of ladder. In other cases forts have been caught napping with no watchmen on duty. When a Tuhoe force approached a Taupo fort at Hamaria one of the scouts entered the place and found the watchman asleep on a stage, whereupon he killed him, and took up his task of beating the gong.
Sapping was occasionally practised by the Maori in easily worked soil, with a view to undermining a rampart or destroying a stockade by means of fire, or by the rou. The latter was the rope and bar method of pulling down a length of stockade. The kopani was an artificial mound of earth constructed by an attacking force from which to hurl whip spears, stones and firebrands into a pa. If an enemy managed to reach the last or inner defence women would take part in the fray in some cases. The roofs of huts near outer lines of defence were sometimes covered with earth as a precaution against destruction by fire. Terrible scenes occurred when an enemy succeeded in entering a fort.
A few cases are recorded in which a position in a swamp or shallow lake has been taken by means of a causeway constructed by the assailants. When Waikato besieged Te Ruaki pa, near Hawera, they erected a stockade so as to include the whole place, then sat down before it for three months, when it fell. Many of its occupants were slain, and many enslaved. When Ati-Awa besieged Waikato at Puke-rangiora they served
te raihe poaka (the pig sty), thus adding insult to injury. This well-known siege continued for seven months.
In some cases an attacking force erected a number of small redoubts around a besieged village, as at Toka-a-kuku in 1836. This place was so large that the people had cultivation grounds inside it; hence it was not taken.
When the Raukawa tribe invaded the vale of Whanganui and captured the Ma-kokoti pa, they took up their quarters therein, but remained somewhat too long, for the local natives reassembled and besieged the place. This siege continued until the garrison was in desperate straits for food, and so commenced to barter their children to the besieging force for food. They sold the girls first as being the least valuable. These children would probably be slain and eaten; in some cases they were spared. They were lowered down the cliffs in baskets. At last the girls were exhausted, then the boys had to go the same way, those of lower rank being sold first. When Apanui, a boy of high rank, was sent down the cliff in a basket, the besiegers knew that the plight of the besieged must be desperate indeed. When the chiefs of the local force found that the besieged were reduced to selling boys of chieftain rank, then occurred one of those strange incidents that tend to illustrate Maori character; they raised the siege, made peace with the invaders, and allowed them to return to their homes. Lest readers should marvel as to where the bartered children came from, a former statement is here repeated, that, in some cases, both women and children were allowed to accompany a raiding force. The writer has known natives who, as children, had marched, or been carried, from Te Whaiti to the Wairoa, over rough, high, forest ranges, on raids.
Several cases are on record of women having successfully defended a fortified village during the absence of their men folk. Did not women so hold the Mawhai pa at Tokomaru against Hauhau hostiles in the “sixties” of last century?
In some case escalading parties would be active, using rude pole ladders or driving wooden pegs into steep scarps to serve as steps. The overhead defence, however, was usually too strong for these activities.
An extraordinary story is told of the Awatoto pa at Heretaunga that I must decline to vouch for, but will here relate as an entertaining narrative. An attacking force long pressed an attack on this position without success. Then a desperate plan was evolved and carried out. Four large moari swings (for which see chapter on games) were erected close to four different faces of the fortified village. A band of toa, or famed fighters, proposed to swing themselves over the defences in quick succession, and so make a desperate attempt to take the place, or give their fellows an opportunity to pass the defences in a less heroic manner. The first batch, foredoomed to dogs and vultures, swung over the defences and dropped inside the defended area. The Homeric combat that ensued was a brief one, but the “sea standing rocks” fought desperately to the last, even as the ururoa shark does. Others quickly followed them, to meet with a similar fate. Two of the slain desperados were Kahutia and Turongo-tua. The desperate attempt failed.
In his “Old New Zealand” the late Judge Maning has left us a most realistic account of the renovation and preparation of a pa for an expected attack. The work went on all night by the light of many fires, and the adventurous young Milesian doubtless enjoyed it.
In “The Peopling of the North” we are told that the people of the Mangere pa, when expecting an attack, covered all the approaches thereto with fragile shells so as to be able to hear the approach of enemies advancing under cover of darkness. They did so advance, but brought many garments with them and spread them over the shells to muffle the sound made by the advance.
When an advancing enemy was reported, a pa and its surrounding hamlets hummed with activity. All able men set to work preparing modes and weapons of defence, strengthening stockades, throwing earth on thatched roofs, wetting the paekiri, and a hundred other tasks. Non-combatants of both sexes set frantically to work carrying supplies of food and water up to the fort. All dwellers in undefended hamlets abandoned their homes and streamed up to the hill fort, carrying their penates, food supplies, and fuel. A scene of apparently
pa would be ready for business.
As for a vivid story of an attack on and defence of a pa maori, these things be too long to relate here, but the late Colonel McDonnell has left us the best of such accounts in that of the attack on Karewa at Hokianga, and its repulse, when the chief of the fort cried to the flying enemy: “Run! Fly! I will melt the marrow of your backbones whereby to light your spirits down to Hades.” And many, many heads adorned the towering stockades of Karewa.
A small force of natives often calmly awaited attack by a much superior force. When 1,600 men attacked Te Tumu in the “thirties” of last century, there were but 100 men in that fort, of whom 67 were killed. Of 200 women and children 180 were killed or enslaved.
We have seen that the Maori relied much on spiritual help when engaged in fighting, hence the custom of depositing a mauri in a pa as a protection. For that innocent looking stone became an abiding place for the spirit gods under whose care the village was placed.
As in the case of the fashioning of a superior canoe, or the building of a superior house, so in that of construction of the defences of a superior pa, the work was carried on under strict tapu. No food might be taken near the site, no women or non-workers might approach it.
The first post of the defences set up was erected in the early morning, and under its base was placed the stone talisman of the new village. As the first post was swung up, an adept stood on the scaffold used for the purpose, and chaunted:
“Moe araara, moe araara, ka tau te manu ki te pae
Koheri, kohera, ka tiritiria, ka reareaia tama ki tona hiwa
Hiwa! Hiwa!”
This effusion breathes of alertness, a quality to be desired in the inmates of the new village and its spiritual protectors. Meanwhile the people remained within their huts, nor dared to kindle fire or partake of food before the conclusion of the ceremony. Perhaps the last pa erected with the old-time ceremonial on the east coast was the Pa-whakairo, near Taradale. This was about the year 1852. On that occasion Paora Kai-
patu named Hinepare in his hand.
A ritual formula was recited by the priestly expert who placed the whatu, or mauri under the first post erected. The wording of one of these karakia before me is too archaic to admit of translation. One line is a statement that the new pa belongs to a certain spirit god. It invokes prosperity for the new village, strength of defence, safety for the inmates.
The ceremonial raising of the first post took place just as the rising sun shone on the scene. The task of constructing the defences was a long one. When completed, then one house was erected within the fort prior to the ceremonial freeing of the pa from tapu. After that ceremony was over a feast was held and all people might enter the place and arrange as to where their allotments should be.
A young, unmarried woman was selected as the first person to enter the defences during the ceremony, and she would be a member of a superior family. It was held to be quite an honour to be selected as a wahine rahiri for this rite. She represents the non-aggressive female element. The priestly expert instructs her as to her duties. Her first act is to proceed to the entrance gateway of the pa and there seat herself on the paetaku, or sill, with a foot on either side of it, and looking towards the sun. The priest, standing by her side, cries out:—
Then, laying his left hand on the girl's head he repeats:—
This effusion announces that a young girl representing the female element has entered the scene and is about to tread the tapu threshold to ensure freedom from restriction. Also it appeals to the gods to grant the new home the condition of peace, harmony and general prosperity indicated by the peculiar expression orongonui.
The priest then says to the young woman: “Arise.” She then passes through the gateway, as also does the priest. He
whatu; go directly to it.” She advances to the base of the post and seats herself beside it, turning so as to face the priest, who remains standing some little distance away. He then chaunts another formula, commencing: “Whose is my pa? My fort is——.” Here is inserted the name of the spirit god under whose care the new village has been placed. Such atua would be a god pertaining to war and not to fishing or any other activity. The formula calls attention to the presence of the female element that represents peaceful prosperity, and craves enduring mana for the new pa. It announces that the supplicant is a son of Tu, and the protecting spirit of the place is asked to impart effectiveness to the ceremony.
The priest now advances to the girl, places his left hand on her head and repeats yet another formula asking that the place and people may enjoy the benefits of supernatural protection. This is the last act, and now the girl rises to her feet and the people acclaim her with cries denoting pleasure and satisfaction.
The young woman selected to act the above described part in the tapu lifting rite was arrayed in fine garments. She took her stand above the buried mauri or talisman because it represents the mana of the pa. Her entry into the pa banished the tapu that had hung over it. After the acclamation all the people would enter the place and salute the girl with tears and the hongi salute, greeting her with such sentiments as come under the term whakamānawa (to welcome), such as: “Welcome, O maid! You who hail from the revered customs and prized remembrances of your ancestors and elders.”
The same priest and girl would then proceed to take the tapu off the new house that had been erected in the fort. She enters the porch of the house, opens the door, but does not pass inside; she stands in the porch facing outward. The priest then advances and intones the ritual termed a kawa. If it be a lengthy recitation he will have an assistant, so that there shall be no break in the delivery, one relieving the other. At the conclusion of the chaunt the girl crosses the tapu threshold
tapu. The girl proceeds to the rear wall of the house and kneels down at the base of the main post thereof that supports the end of the ridgepole, and facing the door. The priest stands in the middle of the house and there chaunts another formula. As he finishes the ritual the girl rises to her feet; the ceremony is over. The next and final act was the feast.
If any serious mistake was made in the performance of the above ceremony, such as the misrendering of a karakia, then the site would probably be abandoned, and a new one selected.
On the east coast of the North Island the remarkable ceremonial releasing of a bird was sometimes carried out at the function of opening a new pa. In this function two priestly experts took part. They recited a certain ritual and, as it ended, they released two captive birds, as has been explained in connection with other rites. This was an emblematical act connected with the invocation that appealed to the gods to protect the new village and its inhabitants.
Names pertaining to the defensive works of a fortified village were as follows:—
Names pertaining to the entrance to a fortified village:—
In works of early visitors to New Zealand are to be found interesting notes on the fortified villages of the Maori. Considering the picturesque nature of the old-time hill forts it seems strange that no person left us a sketch of such places. Crozet gives us a good account of the attack made by the outraged French on a Maori fortified place in 1772. He says that they defended the place with great coolness against the new and terrible musket. No word was heard among them save the commands of the chiefs, who were ever seen in the most dangerous places. These prominent men defended the gateway, and were, one after another, shot down by the musketeers, whereupon the natives became demoralised and a panic ensued. This illustrates a weak point in the Maori character. He also states that the natives tried to protect themselves from musket balls by means of donning thick, closely-woven capes.
In Du Clesmeur's Journal of the same expedition we read that “It is quite astonishing to what point of perfection they have arrived in their entrenchments and fortifications. I have seen villages whose approach was defended by moats of 20ft. in width by 10ft. in depth.” He also mentions double and triple stockades and raised platforms or fighting stages between them. These notes are valuable as coming down to us from the time when the Maori was still living under stone age conditions.
Some of the most picturesque pa of old were those situated on cliffs, crags and isolated rock masses. Such buttes as that of Pohatu-roa at Atiamuri must have presented a striking aspect when occupied in days of yore. Some of these cliff dwelling would be better described as refuges than pa or fortified hamlets; such was Paritutu at New Plymouth. This is a remarkably picturesque column of rock now being deliberately destroyed by civilised savages for the purpose of utilising the stone. This column has vertical sides save at one place, where it can, with some difficulty, be ascended. On its summit is a space of about 50 by 36 ft. that was formerly closely occupied by natives in times of danger. Terraced hut sites and a few pits are the only signs of old time occupation seen.
Mikotahi, near Paritutu, is another old pa. It was formerly an island, and a large number of pits, old storage pits for food products, are yet in evidence on it. The islet of Moturoa to seaward of Mikotahi was another refuge of olden days. From this coastline the natives saw Tasman's vessels wearing northward. It is probably those vessels that are referred to in tradition as Te Tere a Tu-te-paengaroa.
Lack of water was often a serious deficiency of these cliff forts and refuges. At Paritutu a small spring exists about 200 ft. from the base of the column, and, in times of stress, men were lowered down the cliff by means of a rope in order to obtain water.
At some old fortified places situated near water lines of stockades were erected in the water so as to form an enclosure in which canoes could be kept. The remains of such an enclosure are still to be seen at the Mawe pa on the shores of Lake Omapere.
Of the many island forts and refuges occupied in former times, the most interesting are the artificial islets constructed in certain lakes and lagoons, as those of Horowhenua, Muhunoa, Te Hurepo and also I believe at Tutira.
Captain Cook, in writing of an island fort examined in Queen Charlotte Sound, states that they gratified their curiosity at the risk of their necks. This was probably the place mentioned in Bayly's Journal of the voyage of the Adventure.
When the Maori folk acquired the musket they very soon found that sweeping changes had to be quickly made in their system of fortification and fighting. The fighting stages of yore were doomed to extinction, but the elevated outer stockade held its own. In the old form of earthwork defences the ramparts were massive and lofty structures, and the defenders stood on the summits thereof to repel an assault. The musket swiftly rendered such places untenable. The Maori then reduced the height of his ramparts and got behind them. He also saw to it that he had a trench behind the aparua, or double outer stockade, in order that he might kneel therein to fire under the elevated outer palisading. Ere long he added flanking angles, traverses and casemates. When cannon were brought against him he began to suffer from flying splinters as the balls plugged into his solid stockades and stalwart trunks. He then abolished such erections and replaced them with frail barriers of light poles, to minimise the splinter danger. He endured a cannonade by retiring to secure pits, well covered, to emerge fresh and full of fight when the troops swept up to the assault. He lay awake at nights to devise new devices in gun fighting and defences; he proved himself a highly adaptive fighting man. Some of his earthworks of later days were of truly European aspect.
In those places constructed somewhat on old lines the third or inner stockade was often dispensed with, and loopholes for musket fire came into use. The rifle pit became a common usage. I have seen them so small as to shelter only one musketeer. A form of flanking angle called a pukoro was devised. It was not an earthwork but a stockade. Across the middle of it was constructed a rampart about 5ft. in height. On either side of this rampart was a trench in which the defenders stationed themselves. They fired through the stockade, having the rampart behind them. The trenches gave on a sunk way that provided a passage under the defences of the pa to its interior. Thus the defenders of the flanking angle could pass to and fro without exposing themselves to enemy fire.
The late Mr. S. Percy Smith, who visited the Ohangai pa, near Hawera, in 1858, remarked on its picturesque aspect and the extremely neat condition in which it was kept. Some of these places seen by early settlers were of considerable size. Wakefield tells us that the Waitahanui pa, at Taupo, was 500 yards long. That of Pomare, at the Bay of Islands, contained 300 huts, but many of the old pre-European forts were much larger. The Matai-taua pa, at Paua-tahanui, near Wellington, occupied by hostile natives in 1846, was 80yds. by 85yds. It had two stockades about two feet apart, inside which was a trench four feet wide and of about the same depth, in which were many traverses.
When the natives reoccupied an old pre-European fort at Taranaki in gun-fighting days, they did not utilise the rampart as a shelter for musketeers, but re-formed the old fosse outside it for that purpose. It was six feet deep, and a banquette was formed on its outer side; also traverses were introduced. Outside the fosse was erected a double stockade nine feet in height, blinded with bundles of Phormium leaves lashed on to it. Covered pits were made inside the ramparts, in which the natives lived.
Some of the forts of the early days of firearms were provided with the heavy stockades of pre-European days. Thus the Rua-pekapeka pa, in the Bay of Islands district, which was 170yds. by 70yds. in size, had two rows of stockade about 3ft. apart, and about 15ft. in height, composed of hardwood trunks 12in. to 15in. in diameter. Inside of these was a trench 5ft. deep, and inside that again a rampart. The trench contained many traverses. The Maori had already learned to form the trench inside his outer defence instead of outside. British troops assailed this fort with 12, 18, and 32-pounders, and, aften ten days, took it—after the natives had obligingly left it. The pa maori is an interesting thing to study, but to assault one is a very unhealthy pursuit.
In a report by Lieut. G. Bennett, R.E., dated February 10, 1843, is given a good description of native forts. The following passage therein is of interest:—“In illustration of their military knowledge I may say that, when I was ordered to prepare a plan of attack of the pa of Maketu, I consulted the
pa and surrounding country, giving me the distances and command that each hill had over the pa and each other, and pointed out how it might be approached with safety. The plan I made from his model I was subsequently able to compare on the spot, and found his plan and ideas very correct.”
One of the positions occupied by natives at Waitara in 1860 had ten chambers, or casemates, communicating with each other. Each one could accommodate from 20 to 25 men. They were covered with timber, over which was laid bracken and earth to the thickness of about three feet. A double fence was filled up with bracken and earth. The musket-armed natives could fire from these works without exposing themselves. They had learned their lesson well. the
An amazing story was related to the late Colonel McDonnell by a native concerning a well-known engagement at Taranaki. Some of our enemies busied themselves in making fascines which they sold to our sappers per medium of a so-called friendly native, and so made quite an honest penny. “So the sap progressed steadily, and did nobody any harm, and when, after a time, it came too near, we left that pa and built another one.”
The famous Nga Tapa pa, attacked in 1869, had three rampart defences connected by covered ways. The first was 8ft. in height, the second 10ft., and the innermost one 16ft.
The foregoing notes on the fortified villages of old Maoriland and modern redoubts are but a scratching of the surface of this highly interesting field of study. In a general work such as this space does not admit of giving particulars of old stone age forts that have been examined and plotted. The
The fortified village was not an institution of Polynesia. The few defensive places of the Marquesas, Hawaiian and Society groups, did not resemble the pa of New Zealand. Those of Tonga were derived from Fiji. In Fiji the pa maori was employed in some districts. Descriptions of some of the hill forts of Viti-levu left us by various writers shows us that they bore a marked resemblance to those of the Maori of New Zealand.
The defences of the Fiji fortified villages consisted of ramparts, stockades, moats, and fighting stages, etc. The lines of stockades, and stages, were essentially a Maori feature. Most of the available data, however, refers to modern places in which certain modern features appear, due to the introduction of firearms.
Basil Thomson has stated that Fijian defences consisted of an earthwork rampart about 6ft. high, surmounted by a stockade, and having a moat outside it. In some cases two or three moats were made, with ramparts between them. He adds: “Almost every important hill top in western Viti-levu is crowned with an entrenchment of some kind.” Williams gives us similar information. The entrance ways were closed by means of strong sliding bars, another Maori feature. A raised platform surmounted the gateway. The Rev. A. J. Webb reported platforms for sentinels and marksmen. Commodore Goodenough described an old fortified position on a hill top that had two trenches; from the lower one extended a covered way to other fortified positions along the ridge. Apparently no comprehensive description of Fijian forts has been preserved.
The fortified positions on Rapa Island consist of rough stonework, scarped peaks, etc. Evidently the illustration of them in Vol. 1 of the Transactions of New Zealand Institute is misleading, as also is the statement that they are constructed of well-squared and cemented stones.
The description of a Tongan fort given in Mariner's work shows a striking feature in the fighting stages that resembled the Maori kotaretare. A palisade was nine feet in height; its
papa-tu of the Maori. Outside the palisade was a trench nearly 12ft. deep, and about the same in width, and outside this another palisading furnished with fighting stages, and having another trench outside it. The spoil from the trenches was utilised in the formation of ramparts. In another account Mariner tells us that the summits of the ramparts accomodated men: “On the top of the banks a number of warriors, armed with clubs and spears, were running to and fro.”
Williams describes a fort constructed by Tongans on Tongatabu Island consisting of trenches and of earthen walls, on the tops of which palisades were erected, as in one of the Maori systems. Tongan invaders of Samoa left earthwork defences in some places there.
Fortified places are reported from the Solomon Isles, but of these I have no particulars. They are also met with in New Guinea, where ramparts, trenches, stockades and stages seem to be employed. Christian mentions stone-walled forts in the Caroline Group. In various parts of Indonesia villages were fortified by various means.
As to whether the pa maori was a local evolution or not no man may say. Tradition tells us that the original inhabitants of the North Island, the Mouriuri folk, were fort builders, that some of the old fortified positions at Urenui were fashioned by them. If so, they probably introduced the custom from the western Pacific. The incoming Polynesians of later date did not come of a fort building people; the pa maori was not a feature of native life in eastern Polynesia.
Polynesians have long practised agriculture—Food plants carried by voyagers—Four food plants brought to New Zealand—Southern limit of these four plants—Colder climate demanded increased care and labour—Rice names preserved in Polynesian speech—Dense population denotes good soil and fair climate—Some tribes non-agricultural by compulsion—The Maori a neat gardener—The sweet potato, gourd, taro and yam seen here by early voyagers—Agriculture in disturbed districts—Fences for birds only—Breakwinds in cultivations—Ashes used as manure—Soils—Agricultural implements—The crescent moon symbol in New Zealand—Mode of digging—Cultivation of the sweet potato—Patrons of agriculture—Rongo and Pani—Mythical origin of sweet potato—Flowering variety—The mara tautane—Preparation of soil—Taiamai plains cleared of stones—Boundary stones endowed with magic powers—Kao—Breaking in new land—Planting a tapu task—Seasons foretold by stars—Tubers planted at certain phases of moon—Sprouted end of tuber faces rising sun—Planters fasted—The mauri branchlet—Lands or divisions of a field—First tuber planted was tapu—Method of digging—Use of lining cord—Women and planting—Work songs—Feather-decorated spades—Spectacular mode of digging—The use of gravel—Digging a ceremonial performance—Invocations—Workers in echelon formation—Military precision of mode of working—The boustrophedon method—Planting the kumara—Tapu removed from planters—Stone mauri—Crop placed in care of gods——Curious survival of human sacrifice—Human skulls placed among crops—Care of crops—Pests—The harvest—The star Vega calls the crop lifters—First fruits—The harvest feast—Storage of crops—The yam—The taro—How it was grown—The gourd—Curious mode of planting—Uses of the gourd—Cordyline as a food plant—The ti para—Produces a farina or fecula—The karaka—Introduction of European food plants.
We have now to deal with one of the most important arts presided over by great Rongo, the art of cultivating food products. It was a highly important one in Maori eyes, and one in which it was absolutely necessary to retain the favour and assistance of the gods.
The Polynesians are essentially an agricultural folk, and never failed to practise the art of cultivation save when residing on islets or in districts where it was impossible to follow it. A student of Polynesian usages and traditions becomes convinced that these folk practised agriculture ere they left their hidden homeland, wherever that may have been. They cultivated their far-carried food plants wherever it was possible to do so, and, moreover, carried them with them in their voyagings to and fro across the Pacific. Most of those food plants have been introduced into the Pacific isles from Indonesia. We do not know that the ancestors of the Polynesians brought them eastward from that region. They were probably so carried long before the Polynesians entered the Pacific. We do know, however, that when engaged in settling the isles of Polynesia these intrepid voyagers carried with them their economic plants. We also hear, in native traditions, of explorers carrying food plants in their vessels.
This work of transferring plants among the isles of the Pacific would in most cases be a simple one. To so carry them across a wide stretch of ocean might be much more difficult. In the case of the coco-nut no difficulty would be experienced, but the introduction of the aute tree, the paper mulberry, into New Zealand must have demanded much care and forethought. We know that the incoming Polynesians brought hither to New Zealand the sweet potato, the taro, the yam and gourd. There is also on record a tradition that the coco-nut was brought hither, but failed to grow. It seems not improbable that Cordyline terminalis was also introduced by the Maori searovers of old. It is found on Sunday Island, about 600 miles from New Zealand. The breadfruit, though long unknown to the Maori, is yet remembered in one way, for it is referred to in several old songs, and its name (kuru) appears in an old place name at Wellington. The dog and rat were also introduced by the Maori in past times, but the pig and fowl apparently never reached these shores. It is a curious fact that the pig is not mentioned in Maori tradition.
We have a traditionary account of the introduction of the sweet potato into the Chatham Islands, and a clear statement that it could not be grown there. The inhabitants of the
There was a slight difference in the southern limit at which Polynesian food plants could be successfully grown. Cordyline terminalis was apparently grown only in the far north. The yam has been mentioned as seen as far south as Tolaga Bay. The taro and gourd line seems to have been about Cook Strait, but evidently they were out of their latitude in those parts, and were but little relied on. The sweet potato had the most southern range, being grown to some extent as far south as Banks'Peninsula or a little to the south thereof, at Te Wai a Te Ruati.
When the incoming Polynesians settled in New Zealand they would soon find that their cultivated food products required more attention and labour here than in the warmer lands they had come from; also that the further south they settled the more difficult it was to produce a crop. Altitude had the same effect, thus the Tuhoe folk, in their high-lying district in 38° south latitude, were unable to grow crops of sweet potato, while the natives at Nelson, in 41° south, cultivated large areas of that tuber. Thus it was that, save in certain favoured localities, the rhizome of the bracken, Pteris aquilina, became the principal vegetable food of the Maori.
Apparently there is one vegetable food supply that the ancestors of the Polynesians left behind them when they sailed from the hidden homeland to seek their fortune in the vast Pacific. Both the Maori of New Zealand and the natives of the Cook Islands have preserved rice names in the words ari and vari. The traditional evidence cannot be included here, but it appears not at all improbable that the forebears of the Maori knew and cultivated rice in Indonesia or S. E. Asia.
The distribution of many food plants throughout the Pacific region by human agency, including the introduction of a number of economic plants into New Zealand, forms the best of evidence against the views of some persons that the island system was populated “by accident,” drift voyages of hapless sea waifs. The men who brought the aute plant, and seeds and tubers, across five hundred leagues of ocean
When the Maori settled here he found that he would have to live under different conditions to those he had been accustomed to. He had to seek a new material for clothing, and to devote more time to providing food supplies. The days of easy cultivation were past. In many parts of the North Island, and also in the South Island, the sweet potato had to be coaxed in order to procure a crop. Breakwinds were used in such places to protect the plants, and the ground was covered with a thick layer, sometimes six inches thick, of fine gravel. The work of carrying that gravel on the back from a gravel pit was a laborious one. We see fields whereon many hundreds of tons of such gravel have been spread. The writer has seen pits in which a good-sized house might be built that were formed by gravel seeking cultivators.
Such places as the Auckland isthmus, certain parts of the far north, Taranaki, and the Bay of Plenty, produced good crops of sweet potato, and so supported a numerous population. Altogether they formed but a small part of the area of the island. Medium class lands supported a smaller population, for more reliance had to be placed on uncultivated products, and fish and birds. Inferior soils and high-lying districts would permit of only small crops being produced; herein the kumara was little more than an occasional luxury. The Wellington district may be included in this class, for it is on the fortieth parallel, which is far south for the kumara. There were again districts wherein no crops could be grown. This usually meant a small population, but in some few cases a plentiful fish supply might permit a considerable number of people to dwell together.
It was doubtless owing to the fact that the rhizome of the bracken formed a very important food supply that led to its origin being assigned to the being Haumia of Maori myth, or to its being personified in Haumia.
The Maori was unquestionably a worker in olden times, much more so than he is now. A man known to be an indus-
ihu oneone, or “soiled nose.”
Cook speaks of the neatness of the cultivation grounds that he saw at Uawa, and Banks tells us that the different gardens had fences of reeds round them. These would be to bar the raiding swamp-hen, the only creature that the Maori had to fence against in pre-European days. We are also told that at that place (Uawa, or Tolaga Bay) the yam was seen, also a limited number of aute or paper mulberry trees. Banks also tells that sweet potatos and yams were seen in the Thames district. Cook also mentions seeing both the sweet potato and the yam, but the latter seems to have disappeared long ago; our early settlers have not referred to it in their writings. It was probably neglected on the introduction of the potato (Solanum) and maize, on account of its being difficult to cultivate. A great many cultivations were noted in the Bay of Plenty district by these early visitors. At the Bay of Islands, on December 1, 1769, they saw “several little plantations planted with potatos and yams,” and on December 4, “40 or 50 acres of land cultivated and planted with roots.” On December 5, Cook saw “about ½ a dozen Cloth plants,” an allusion to the paper mulberry. No cultivations were seen at Queen Charlotte Sound, which led Cook to write: “Cocos, yams and sweet potatos is not cultivated everywhere.”
In what might be termed disturbed districts the plantations of a community were often made in places where they would not readily be seen. They would be in small, scattered areas, so as to escape detection by raiding parties. Early visitors to these shores agree in stating that the Maori folk planted and kept their fields in a remarkably neat manner. It was in later days, when the old social system of the Maori was falling to pieces under the pressure of new usages and new ideas introduced by Europeans, that agriculture became slovenly.
We have noted that, though there were no animals in these isles to ravage crops, yet the natives were in some places compelled to erect bird-proof fences round their crops in order to exclude the annoying swamp hens. In some places old men past hard work would be employed to keep these creatures out
Hie! Hie! Go to the swamp. Return to the swamp. Go to Hine-wairua-kokako. Hie! Hie!” The word hie means “Be off!” The lady with the long name mentioned is viewed as the origin or personified form of the predatory pukeko, or swamp hen.
The terms ahau, pahauhau, takitaki, tihokahoka, etc., denote the light fences and brush breakwinds formerly employed by the Maori in his plantations. When the pig was introduced in the latter part of the 18th century the Maori soon found that another task lay before him, the ring-fencing of his plantations with a substantial pig-proof barrier, a labour that demanded much extra time and exertion. He then employed two different forms of such fence, the raihe, in which stakes were punched into the ground in a vertical position and lashed to a horizontal rail, and the pakorokoro, in which rails were laid horizontally, one above the other, between double upright stakes placed a few feet apart, and lashed together. Stiles, termed koronae and ara whakatungangi, were erected where necessary.
The Maori cultivator had a good working knowledge of soils, and a list of native soil names before me numbers 27, which should cover the range of soils fairly well. Of these the one paraumu, a dark, fertile soil, and one parahuhu, or alluvium, were specially favoured for growing the sweet potato. The benefit of wood ashes as a manure the Maori knew full well, but he never watered any plants, be the earth ever so dry.
Under the heading of agricultural implements we have a list of 20 names. A number of these represent synonyms. The tools generally employed in the work of planting and cultivating crops were four, the ko, kaheru, timo and wauwau. The last-mentioned seems to be also known as pinaki and ketu. The timo is also called timotimo and tima.
The hoto was a form of wooden shovel with a spade-like blade having a cant or raised rim on either side. It was not apparently used in the cultivations, but in such work as constructing a pa, for removing earth.
The kaheru is a form of spade having a narrower blade than our spades, and the blade differed much in length. There is great diversity of form in kaheru. They were used in crop cultivation and for other purposes. All these tools were fashioned from hard woods. The most interesting form of this wooden spade was one that had a triangular blade, as explained by Waikato and east coast natives. Some of them resembled our own spades in form, save the handle, which was merely a straight shaft, the Maori not using any such hand-clutch as that seen on our spades. They were in most cases fashioned in one piece, shaft and blade. In some districts the name kaheru was applied to the small paddle-shaped tool called a wauwau by Tuhoe. The long-shafted tools were often used as a scuffle hoe or Dutch hoe, in order to cut weeds. The Maori never dug as we do; he never turned the soil over, but merely loosened it. A wooden club, called a patupatu, was employed in breaking up clods. Sometimes a detachable footrest was used with a form of kaheru, having a long and comparatively narrow blade, but never with the tool shaped like our spade. These implements were not used in hard or compact soils.
The ketu, pinaki or wauwau is a small implement so fashioned as to resemble a paddle in form. Its principal use was to loosen the soil among growing crops. It was also used in weeding operations and in digging up crops. The operator assumed a squatting position when using the pinaki, which was about 30 inches in length as a rule; some were shorter.
The ko was the most important of agricultural tools, and ranged from six to ten feet in length. The most carefully fashioned ones were usually the longest, and these long and strong specimens were the breaking up tools—a shorter form was used in cultivation work sometimes. When breaking up, the teka or footrest was lashed on to the shaft much higher up than was done with a cultivating ko. This rude digging tool was used in Polynesia, and in many other lands; it closely resembles the old Highland spade. The blade of the ko is narrow, for nothing could be gained by widening it, as the soil was not turned over. This tool was used not only in breaking
The upper end of a well finished ko was finished off with some carved design. In a few cases it was a square design, an elaborate piece of work, and these implements on which so much time and work had been bestowed were used in ceremonial performances connected with crop planting. A common form of carved design on the upper end of the shaft was that of a crescent, called whakamarama (a moon name) and whakaaurei, both words carrying the meaning of crescent.
Now the Maori has forgotten the meaning of this symbol that he has preserved so carefully down the changing centuries. It is the ancient symbol of the patron deity of the art of agriculture, the personified form of the moon, that Rongo to whom the Maori ever addressed invocations and made offerings in order to obtain bounteous crops.
The upper part of the ko is also known as whakataumiromiro, because on it Maui alighted when he assumed the form of the miromiro bird. The detachable footrest of a ko is known as teka, takahi and hamaruru. These were fashioned from blocks of wood, and were in some cases adorned with carved designs. A few specimens in bone and stone are known. In very few cases are spade and footrest fashioned
Aka (vines) were the favoured material for lashing a footrest to the shaft.
In breaking up new land or when digging fern root several men might work together, standing in a row and so breaking out a long section of earth. In preparing the soil for planting a different method was adopted. The soil was not turned over; it was not even all dug. The sweet potato was planted in little mounds, and these were spaced in a very regular manner. Only at these spots where the seed tubers were to be planted was the soil dug. To prepare such a spot the digger thrust his ko into the ground three times, and, by pressing the shaft down loosened the soil by means of the upward movement of the point. Thus the spade was used as a lever is, and not as we manipulate a spade. The three thrusts of the spade were made at different parts of the circumference of the small area where the mound was to be formed, as
When the ceremonial digging and planting of the sweet potato crop was being carried out, the long shafts of the spades were decorated with feathers. This was a very tapu task and it was conducted with a solemnity and ceremony that showed how seriously the Maori viewed the art of agriculture. It must have been a strange and barbaric sight to see a long line of almost naked men using the swaying row of long, feather-decorated spade-levers to the time of a chaunted song. These adornments consisted of two long trailing tails of feathers suspended from the upper part of the shaft, and also bunches of feathers secured to a piece of supplejack bent into the form of a bow and lashed in that form to the shaft just below the upper end.
The names koko, tikoko and takoko have all been applied to a form of wooden shovel or scoop. This implement was mostly used in such working as forming ramparts in pa construction, for shovelling earth and gravel into baskets. The timo was used as a grubber, as we use a pick or mattock, the operator assuming a kneeling or squatting position. The Waikato folk call it a paketu.
A peculiar implement called a paretai was used on the east coast in forming the small mounds for planting the sweet potato in, also for covering ovens, and other purposes. It was almost semi-circular in form, and in the straight upper side was a countersunk handgrip. The curved edge was worked down thin; the material was heartwood of matai. It may be described as a scraper.
The light, spade-like tool with blade and shaft in two pieces, and used as is a Dutch hoe, was called a pere or tipi, though it might also have the generic term of kaheru applied to
puka at Waikato seems to be the same as that termed rapa maire among some tribes. This was a much stronger tool, and one used for many purposes.
The tirourou was explained as a form of wooden rake, possibly a modern implement, but an East Cape native gave the name as a synonym for purau, some form of tool used in the construction of earthworks.
These agricultural and other earth-working tools of the Maori were rude forms as compared with metal tools, yet by fashioning them from hardwoods he was enabled to do a deal of work with them. The scarped and terraced hills, the miles of land showing signs of former cultivation, the carefully excavated drains of swampy areas, all show that the Maori was capable of performing tasks of magnitude with his crude earth-working tools.
The kumara or sweet potato was by far the most important of the cultivated food products of the Maori. It must here be
(Solanum) being much easier to grow.
All agricultural peoples have in past days devoted much ceremonial to their principal food product, were it wheat, rice, maize, or any other plant. Hence we note that the Maori folk had instituted a considerable amount of ceremonial observance in connection with the sweet potato. He had also, in common with other peoples, instituted a tutelary diety of his prized product, and also a feminine “mother” of that tuber, a form of Ceres. Its origin is assigned to those beings.
The tutelary genius presiding over the art of agriculture was Rongo, who, as we have seen, was the male personified form of the moon. As the men of yore put it, “Rongo-maraeroa was the origin of food products, of the fruits of the earth.” As in old-world mythologies of Babylonia and elsewhere the moon god presided over agriculture, the moon was credited with the power of causing fertility, with regard to both women and crops. The dual power of Rongo-ma-Tane was also looked upon as being connected with fertility. A stone representing this dual personification (moon and sun) was set up in the sacred place of a Tahitian village, and decorated with flowers on certain occasions. In New Zealand Rongo was the principal “god” of cultivation; to him invocations connected with crops were addressed; to him offerings were made.
The other mythical being to be explained was Pani, or Pani-tinaku, the “mother” of the kumara, or sweet potato, for she is said to have given birth to it. The word tinaku carries the meaning “to germinate,” also it denotes a garden or cultivated ground, and seed tubers. A curious myth concerning Pani is to the effect that she was taken to wife by Rongomaui, who is spoken of as the younger brother of Whanui, the star Vega. That star was connected with agriculture, for its cosmic rising about March was the sign that sent the Maori to prepare his store pits and lift his crops. This Rongo-maui obtained from Whanui the seed of the sweet potato, not in a proper manner, because he stole it; hence the pests that attack
kumara, which she did in water; always she entered the water when she was about to produce the tubers. Those waters are termed the Waters of Mona-ariki.
Clearly there is some corruption or confusion in this story. Why should Pani always enter water in order to produce what is essentially a dry land product? There may be some truth in the suggestion of Mr. Tregear that pani and pandi were variant forms of pari, a well-known rice name of S.E. Asia. Whether or not the Hindu pani=water is connected with the above is another question. In lands where irrigation was practised water deities were liable to develop into agricultural deities. Pani is a puzzle; she is spoken of in myth as the aunt and foster mother of the Maui brothers, as the mother of Tahu (personified form of food products), and as being connected with Tiki. Pani was invoked by cultivators in connection with the sweet potato crop. In India the esculent lotus was termed kumad, and this word was employed as a sacerdotal term for the female organ of generation. If Pani represented the water-growing kumad she would naturally be the wife of Tiki.
The sweet potato was brought to New Zealand by early Polynesian voyagers. There are many different legends pertaining to its introduction. One has it that one expedition sailed from the Bay of Plenty to Polynesia many generations ago in order to obtain seed tubers. As is the case with Solanum tuberosum, the kumara (I pomœa batatas) shows many different varieties, the result of many centuries of cultivation. The writer has a list of nearly 100 names of varieties collected in different parts of the north; doubtless there are many duplicate names among them. Most of these varieties are now “lost to the world,” as the Maori puts it. These old varieties were much smaller than the modern introduced variety; they were finger-shaped.
As usually known to us the kumara is not a flowering plant. The Rev. T. G. Hammond tells us that he once saw a flowering specimen at Whangaroa, the blossom resembling that of the wild convolvulus. An east coast authority states that
puatahoe variety has been known to flower. The introduced varieties are larger and apparently more hardy than the old Maori varieties. The introduced waina is said to be the easiest grown; it can be propagated from its runners, hence its name, which is our word “vine.”
The first act of the season in connection with the cultivation of the sweet potato was the planting of a few tubers, the product of which was employed as an offering to the gods. This was a ceremonial performance of great moment to the Maori, for the success of the crops was believed to depend upon it. These tubers were to serve as first fruits offerings, and they were grown in a small isolated patch known as the māra tautane. The word māra denotes a garden, cultivation ground, a plantation. A day was set apart for this tapu function, each hamlet or group providing a tuber for planting, and that process was accompanied by the recitation of religious formulæ all with a view to obtaining the goodwill of the gods. Twenty years ago the Tuhoe tribe was still keeping up this old custom in connection with the potato(Solanum), but they now style it the huamata rite, a word meaning “first fruits.” A ceremonial feast is the concluding part of the above function. The Tuhoe folk meet again on December 1st., when the pure ceremony is performed over the young crop, which is said to have the effect of abolishing the tapu that has hitherto pertained to it.
The late Canon Stack has told us that, in the South Island, the mara tautane was called taumatua, and that invocations to Pani and other beings were repeated, as in the North Island. The South Island priestly experts gathered a handful of any herbage growing at the mara, and used is as an offering to the gods, it being deposited at the taumatua. The offering was termed pitau, a word denoting young growth of plants, and so equivalent to the terms mata and huamata applied in the North Island to first fruits offerings. These “gardens of the gods” for the growth of special tapu tubers were very small, resembling a small bed or plot.
In many cases much work had to be done ere the digging of the soil to receive the seed tubers could be performed. In open, clear land nought but weeds had to be disposed of, but
A dry situation is necessary for the sweet potato, and a light, friable soil, or alluvium produces the best crops. It was sometimes grown in almost pure sand or fine gravel. The volcanic soil of the Auckland peninsula is quite suitable for the purpose, and large areas were formerly under cultivation in that district. Such places as the Auckland isthmus, Taiamai, Oruru, and others, have at one time supported a large population, and this was only made possible by the fertile soil of those places. The close cultivation of land in considerable areas to support such populations would call for much labour with the primitive tools and methods known to the Maori. In places where sand or gravel had to be excavated and carried on the back and spread thickly over the field the labours of the people were seriously augmented.
The Taiamai district of the northern peninsula is one that shows evidence of the industry of the Maori of yore. On the hills are seen the earthworks of the old hill forts in which the neolithic agriculturists lived. The names of twelve of these old fortified villages were obtained, and there are others the names of which are unknown to the writer. One of the most interesting is the picturesque volcanic cone of Pouerua, with the upper parts hewn into many terraces, and its deep crater filled with forest growth. When first visited by early missionaries only the eastern face of the pa was occupied, but on that part some 1,400 people were living. The epidemics introduced by early vessels had probably accounted for the rest.
The far-spread miles of level and undulating land of the Taiamai district still show what large areas were formerly cultivated. The evidence consists of innumerable piles and walls of volcanic stones. The surface was originally covered with these, and many generations of workers have collected them and piled them in heaps in order to clear the land for crop-
(rauwaka) of a field, each of which would be the garden plot of a family. These evidences of the cultivations of former centuries are met with in many districts.
In Earle's account of his sojourn in New Zealand in 1827 he mentions the far-spread crops of potatos, kumara and maize in the Taiamai district. The hill fort visited he found unoccupied, all the people being at work in their fields on the plain below. He also remarked that, looking down on the farlying green crops was such a sight that he had not seen in the various countries he had visited. The exact rows in which the products had been planted was a striking feature.
The cold and stiff soils of parts of the Waikato district called for much labour in sand treatment, and in many places pumice sand (tatahoata) was so used. Women took an important part in the heavy labour of carrying this sand on their backs to the cultivations. In course of time this treatment would break up heavy soils and render them much more suitable for the cultivation of the sweet potato.
Colenso has left us a good description of the neatness of the native plantations of former days. He speaks of it as being admirable, of the extreme regularity of their planting of the sweet potato and taro, the former in little mounds about two feet apart, arranged in true quincunx order, with no deviation from a straight line when viewed in any direction. The constant care in cultivation, keeping the soil loose and free, the utter lack of weeds, the erection of breakwinds where necessary, all these were prominent features of Maori agriculture in the days of the commune. Now that we have broken that system and haled the Maori into individualism his method of agriculture has become careless.
Young tubers of the sweet potato were often scraped and sun-dried in former times, then steamed to form a prized food supply called kao. This was sometimes mixed with water so as to form a kind of gruel that was much appreciated. When warmed by means of hot stones it was considered an excellent diet for invalids.
In breaking in new land the work was necessarily much more arduous than when an old cultivation plot was reworked. Patches or areas of cultivatable land were allowed to lie fallow for some years after being cropped for one or two seasons. In making a clearing in bush for cropping the hapai tu method was sometimes followed, in which all timber that would not burn was removed bodily. In other cases the larger logs were left to decay. The autara or kairangi method consisted of lopping the branches off the trees, the trunks of which were left standing, the branches being burned. This was the old practice. Such clearings are termed waerenga. The work of preparing new ground commenced long before planting time. The smaller stumps were removed, the long, heavy hardwood ko being employed as levers in this task.
The planting of the kumara or sweet potato was held to be an important and tapu task, from the sorting of the seed tubers (kopura, purapura, tinaku) even unto the completion of the task. The foretelling of seasonal conditions was the work of experts, who carefully noted the appearance of certain stars, such as the Pleiades, Rigel, Orion's Belt and Whakaahu. According to the aspect of these stars an early or late season was foretold, and planting operations arranged accordingly. Maori folk-lore tells us that Mahuru (personified form of Spring) sends the cuckoo hither every spring to call the Maori folk to the task of planting the crops.
Natives held that the tubers should be planted only at certain phases of the moon in order to obtain a good crop. One of the most favourable times is said to be the Orongonui, the 28th night, or day, of the moon's age, so named after Great Rongo, the patron deity of the kumara. Other favourable nights (days) were the 17th, 18th, 19th, 20th, and 27th, according to one native authority. But apparently these “lucky nights” differed as among different tribes. Some communities planted the tuber only during spring tides, others when the moon was due north at sunset. In some places planting commenced during the Ari phase of the moon (eleventh night).
At the commencement of the planting season the seed tubers were placed in the loose earth of the puke, or little
Inasmuch as the planting of the sweet potato was viewed as a tapu or sacred task, then it follows that, as in all such functions, the performers were compelled to carry it out fasting, to perform the work on an empty stomach. The work was commenced early in the morning, and, if it could not be finished in a fairly short day, then the workers postponed the finishing of the job to another day. They could then retire from the field, have the tapu removed from them, and so be free to partake of a meal. Until the work was over for the day no person was allowed to cook food. Any trespasser entering, or even approaching the field where the crop was being planted would be set upon, and he might consider himself lucky if he escaped with a whole skin.
A peculiar custom obtained in some places of using a green branch of mapau (Myrsine Urvillei) as a kind of material mauri in the plantation. This was obtained by the officiating expert, who stuck it in the ground at the eastern side of the plantation; it seems to have represented Rongo. In some places the priestly expert touched every puke or small mound with his hand ere the seed tubers were planted in them. The baskets of seed carried to the field were ranged along the whakaupoko or head of the field, its eastern side. The opposite side of the field is the remu or taremu. A field of considerable area would be divided into strips or lands, each of which would be apportioned to a family. These lands were known as moa, tahuna, tawaha, taupa, karawa, rauwaka, wakawaka and waiwaha. They were separated by narrow paths in some cases, and these were termed awa, mataihi and pukiore; often they were hollow ways somewhat below the level of the land on either side. In many places the bounds of the divisions were marked by stones.
The Rev. Mr. Taylor tells us that the stones set in a field as boundary marks for the various divisions apportioned to families were sometimes rendered dangerous by means of magic spells. Any person who moved such enchanted stones would suffer grievously.
A newly-cultivated plot of ground was alluded to as a tamata; a plot lying fallow is patohe; land exhausted by cultivation is described as huiki and titohea. The words ko, ahurei and whakatopatopa all denote planting the sweet potato, while tou, ono and whakato have a wider application. The planting of young shoots taken from the sweet potato tubers is described by the term whakateretere. This is a modern practice.
The planting of the first tuber in a field was a ceremonial act, and it remained a tapu plant, for the product of it was employed as an offering to the gods. It was called the marere, a name that was also applied to one of the ovens in which food for the ceremonial feast pertaining to planting was cooked.
It is clear that, in different districts, different methods of working and planting the kumara or sweet potato obtained. An attempt to reconcile the different accounts of methods employed would but lead to distraction. In places where cultivation of the tuber was carried on in a big way there was much more formality and ceremonial connected with it than in districts where but a limited quantity could be grown as a luxury. In the former case numbers of men worked together, and there was much specialising with regard to tasks. In the latter a few persons would perform all the different tasks pertaining to planting.
In the case of the Tuhoe tribe, occupying, as it did, a high-lying district, but little cultivation was possible. In the outlying parts a certain amount was carried on. Among these folk each digger carried his basket of seed tubers and each man planted these in the little mounds he had formed. The work was carried out in what may be termed a military manner. The men were ranged in a row, a little distance apart from each other, but in echelon, and carried out the work in that peculiar formation. They worked backward as we do when digging. Each man would loosen the soil with his ko, form a little mound of pulverised soil, plant the tuber with its sprouted end a little raised and pointing to the east, and so be ready for the next move. When all had so finished, the whole, at the word of command, took one step to the rear, with spade
puke, or little mound, so as to preserve the marvellous regularity that marked such plantations, and the military precision was preserved throughout in both movements and results.
In his account of the cultivation of the sweet potato the late Archdeacon Walsh wrote of the planting: “The party that undertook this operation commenced in one corner and worked back diagonally across the patch, each man having a row to himself, and as every hill was made to touch the two hills in the next row the whole plantation presented a fairly accurate quincunx pattern.”
Now some writers and authorities have told us that the workers moved forward as they worked, not backward. Apparently both methods were employed, as in different districts. Again, when planting was conducted on a large scale the digging and actual planting were two distinct operations; thus while diggers worked backward the actual planters may have worked forward. It is doubtful if any system of working diagonally across a field was followed. As will be explained anon, the line of workers was diagonal, but the diggers worked straight across the field.
Another difficulty that meets the enquirer is the question as to whether or not a cord was employed in planting the sweet potato. There is much evidence to show that such a help was used, commencing with Capt. Cook, who actually saw the line and cord in the plantation. On the other hand early writers and many old natives have stoutly maintained that no such aid was employed. Evidently the implement was used in some districts, but not in others. These local differences occurred in connection with other matters also. On the east coast no woman was allowed to assist in the planting, but on the west coast women were, at least in some cases, allowed to take part in it. The Rev. T. G. Hammond, of Patea, tells us that some women were esteemed as planters because they possessed ringa mana; all tubers planted by them flourished.
The process of forming the small mounds in which the tubers are planted is expressed by the terms ahu, tupuke, tukari and tuahu. Only one tuber was planted in each mound.
marere. A west coast authority tells us that men performed the digging and that the actual planting was done by women. On the east coast these women would not have been allowed in the field. The above-mentioned authority also remarks that a row of rods was set up to assist planters in aligning the mounds. The observance of tapu during the planting operations, and also until the crop was lifted and stored, served not only to placate the gods but also to protect the life principle (mauri) of the kumara.
One of the interesting features connected with digging operations was the chaunting of the tewha, or working song, by means of which the actions of many men were timed. The sight of the long line of 1oft. spades; decorated with feather streamers, swaying in unison with the time song must have been a striking one. The term pirori was used to denote the movement of the long shaft when swung round for the right foot thrust. The wide spacing of mounds as for the rautainui variety of sweet potato was called tiwara. The ceremonial chaunts of the workers come under the generic term of tewha, but are known specifically as ko kumara, tapatapa kumara, etc.
Occasionally, we are told, a stiff or somewhat unkindly soil was improved by ashes used as manure. If there was not a quantity of brush or timber to dispose of, then quantities of brush, such as manuka, would be obtained and spread evenly over the field. When dry this would be burned and the ashes mixed with the soil forming the small mounds. With such a stiff soil gravel would be mixed, but friable, open soils did not need such a dressing, though in such cases gravel was often used to spread on the surface under the runners.
The long form of ko used in breaking up was known as the ko whakaara; a shorter form was employed for cultivation purposes. Where planting was carried on in a large way the work was generally performed by means of a “planting bee,”
tuao. Such a party of workers is termed an ohu. Under such conditions there would be four or five parties carrying out different processes. First came the kaiko or diggers who broke up the soil with their long staves. Then came the tangata tuahu, who pulverised the soil and worked ashes into it if any such were at hand, also gravel if necessary; also they formed the mounds. Then came the kaironaki or kaiwhakatiri, distributors of seed, who placed a seed tuber on each mound, after whom came the kairumaki, or planters.
The wielders of the longshafted digging tools assembled at dawn and proceeded to the field. As the sun appeared all turned so as to face it, and the expert commenced to intone a formula or invocation to great Rongo. The seed tubers would have been carried to the field from the rua whakaahu, the store pit in which they had been kept, so that, when the ceremonial performance was over, all were ready to commence work. The form of ko, or spade, with an elaborate carved device of rectangular outline on its upper end was, we are informed, used in a ceremonial manner by the priestly expert, as in planting the first tuber that was to develop into the tapu plant of the crop.
In one of the formulæ chaunted during planting operations is an interesting appeal to Pani, the “mother” of the kumara, to provide a good crop: “E Pani e! Ringitia to rahu ki waenga ki tenei mara” (O Pani! Pour out thy basket on this field). As soon as the digging commenced the tapu of the gods lay on the field, and it so remained until the crop had been lifted and removed to the storehouses.
The diggers kept time with military precision when loosening the soil. A left foot thrust of the ko was first made, the shaft of the tool was inclined to the right, and the left foot was placed on the foot rest. The shaft was then swung over to a left-handed grip and thrust, in which the right foot was placed on the foot rest. A third thrust of the tool at right angles to the other two assisted in the loosening of the soil, which was then ready to be further worked with a pinaki and then formed into a small mound in which the tuber was planted.
The method of working followed by natives about the East Cape district, as explained by Manihera Waititi, differed from those of some districts, but may be here given as an interesting procedure. As the men were working the directing expert chaunted the tewha, or work song. At the end of each division of the song the workers joined in chaunting a short refrain, at the same time they raised the points of their long ko on high and brandished them. Another form of song was chaunted as the seed tubers were being planted, and in this the name of Pani again appears. Yet another form was rendered when the seed was covered, and, if considered necessary, a rain producing charm was chaunted.
In the above district each worker seems to have formed the mounds of his row immediately opposite those of the next line by which he was aligning his own, instead of making them opposite the space between two mounds of the other line, as was done in many districts. I may, however, have misunderstood the explanation. The head of the field or waha (mouth) as it is locally termed, is its northern side, while the lower or rear end is the taremu. In most cases the head of the field is said to have been its eastern side. When about to commence work the workers take their stand at the eastern end of the taremu, or southern side of the field, that is in the S.E. corner of the field. The workers faced south while digging, so that they worked backwards, as we do when using a spade. This enabled each man to keep his line of mounds correctly aligned.
As an illustration of this method of working we will follow the boustrophedon perambulations of three workers, Messrs. A, B, and C, as depicted on the diagram. The work is commenced by A, whose rarangi puke, or row of mounds, extends across the field to D. This line or row is styled the tahu, because it serves as a guide for B and C in lining and spacing. The act of forming this first row is called whakatahu; he who forms it is the kaiwhakatahu. By working backwards A can readily align his mounds; his spacing of mounds was done by eye and what may be termed the regulation pace.
A commences the work, and forms his first two mounds, his companions looking on. When A steps back and com-
kumara was usually planted in quincunx order. Thus the man engaged in forming the second line of mounds formed them, not opposite those of the first row, but opposite a point midway between them. In any case B, C, etc., were guided by the work of A.
Our workers, meanwhile, are performing their task of digging, loosening the soil and raising it, but not turning it over. When A finishes his row he awaits the completion of those of B and C. Then C commences his countermarch; he begins to form row No. 4 of mounds. B also wheels and commences row No. 5, and A takes the outer line. They work back now, working toward the taremu of the field. Then they wheel again, commencing another countermarch, and continue to work in this manner until the whole field is dug, or rather until the soil has been loosened at all places where the tubers are to be planted. This mode of working in echelon is called whakarapa. Save under certain conditions the ground between the rows of mounds, the spaces called pongaihu and maruaroa, was not dug.
The diagram shows that when C is working on his first puke, A is at his fifth, and B at his third. The brief references to this peculiar method of working met with in various works, are by no means clear, but the accompanying diagram will, it is to be hoped, explain the procedure. Differences in methods of planting certainly existed as in different districts, but to give all variations of the process would but weary and confuse the reader. No line or other guide was employed by these folk as explained by Manihera and Hakaraia, but in some districts a line or row of rods is said to have been so used.
After the diggers come the persons who work the soil with small tools, the pinaki or wauwau, break clods with a wooden club, and use their hands a good deal in pulverising and in
tapapa. The kaiwhakatiri, or seed distributors, then pass down the pongaihu bearing baskets of seed tubers. They deposit one tuber on each small mound. The planters then advance and finish off the mound to their satisfaction, and plant the seed.
In other places, we are told, the “head” of the field was its eastern side, and the kaiko or diggers worked from west to east and then back again, and so on. The branchlet of mapau stuck in the ground in some cases was called Rongo; it served as a mauri, or talisman. In some cases a branchlet of karamu (Coprosma) was so used as a mauri, and branchlets of this small tree were used in many other rites. This reminds us of a custom of the Oraons of India, who employ a branch of the karam tree in their harvest ceremonial. An old native is responsible for the statement that when the Maori was planting kumara, the first four tubers were pushed into the loose soil with the big toe of the left foot, as a charm was being recited.
The following ceremony performed by planters at the completion of their task seems to have been connected with the lifting of tapu. In connection with this ceremony a few tubers were cooked in a tapu oven, and a curious part of the performance was as follows:—The planters ranged themselves in a rank and the first of these obtained one of the cooked tubers from the oven, passed it into his left hand, then handed it to the man next him. That man took it with his right hand, passed it into his left, and handed it on, and so it passed right down the line of men. It was then taken to the tapu place of the village and there deposited. This note appears in Mr White's MS.
We will now glance at another old-time institution of the Maori in connection with his agricultural pursuits. There was much of tapu and ritual pertaining to the cultivation of the prized kumara, and all such ceremonial, etc., was believed to be highly necessary in order to obtain healthy and prolific crops. The institution of the mauri was utilised to its full extent in the tapu first tuber planted, in the wand or branchlet of mapau or karamu, and also in certain stone talismanic
kumara gods.” They are alluded to by the natives as taumata, that is as resting places or abiding places for the gods. They served as symbols, visible representations of the gods of agriculture, such as Rongo. Such a stone image would be kept at the tapu place of the village at ordinary times, and, when the crops were planted, it would be taken to the field and placed at the upoko or head thereof. When the crop was lifted the stone was removed again to the tapu place.
These stone figures were believed to have a most beneficial effect on the growing crops, and this because of the powers and influence of the gods which they represented. A portion of the produce of the first tuber planted was utilised as an offering to the talismanic stone. Rongo is at least sometimes represented by a double form of stone image, and this probably stands for the dual Rongo-ma-Tane already explained.
Natives tell us in some cases fields were rendered fertile, and bounteous crops were obtained, by placing in the field a small portion of soil brought in olden times across the ocean from the former island home of the Maori.
The following extraordinary practice appears to be a survival of human sacrifice from olden times when persons were slain in order that good crops might be obtained. Our Maori folk have not, so far as we know, deliberately indulged in human sacrifice for this purpose of late generations, but they seem to have done so at one time, as witness the tradition of Taukata. In native tradition this ancestor was connected with the introduction of the highly valued kumara tuber into New Zealand. The people of Whakatane were advised to slay him as a human sacrifice to prevent the mauri or life principle of the tuber returning to the isles of Polynesia, whence the seed tubers had been obtained. Hence, when the first crop had been gathered and stored, the hapless Taukata was slain, and his blood was sprinkled on the door of the storehouse in order to hold the vitality and fertility of the tubers. Also his skull was preserved for many years, and, each year, it was taken
When Tionga of Rotorua was killed by Tuhoe the latter utilised his skull in a similar manner in connection with a tutu, or tree on which bush parrots were snared. It was placed in the tree, and was so useful and efficient a talisman that the folk of Te Teko applied for the loan of it to place in their kumara fields. According to evidence, skulls or other bones of the dead of either friends or enemies were equally efficacious. We are told that, in some districts, when it was seen that the crops were not flourishing, the owners would procure the bones of their own forebears and place them in the field, an act accompanied by much ceremony and recital of charms. When skulls were so used they were placed on stakes among the crops.
A more direct method than the above was followed in certain parts of India, where a person was slain, his body cut into small pieces and buried piecemeal among the crops. At an early period in Egypt corpses were dismembered and buried in cultivated land. In after days the bones were taken up, cleaned, and finally disposed of in the sand of the desert.
When the young shoots of the tubers appeared above ground it was a custom, in some parts, for an expert to proceed to the field at dawn and make an offering of some article of food to the Pleiades, at the same time reciting a charm or invocation.
In olden days crops were kept carefully weeded, and much care was taken in keeping the soil loose around the kumara plants while in the earlier stages of growth. In pre-European days no forms of weeds existed that gave very much trouble, such as our docks and sorrel. Nicholas wrote of native cultivations in 1815: “The nice precision that was observed in setting the plants, and the careful exactness in clearing out the weeds, the neatness of the fences, with the convenience of the stiles and pathways, might all of them have done credit to the most tasteful cultivator in England.”
In ritual chaunts pertaining to the kumara we encounter the peculiar name of Hine-rau-wharangi. This female being of remote times was a daughter of Tane, and she personifies
As to pests, we have seen that our Maori crop grower had, in some places to erect slight reed or brush fences to exclude prowling swamp hens. The native rat was scarcely a pest, but the two rats introduced by Europeans gave a good deal of trouble in late times. The large caterpillar, called hotete, was a decided pest. These creatures appeared in great numbers on the sweet potato plants, and were collected and burned. A caterpillar pest, known as tupeke and torongu, is mentioned by east coast natives. Natives sometimes made smouldering fires in their cultivations on which were burned leaves of the kawakawa ( Macropiper excelsum), the smoke from which is said to have destroyed the caterpillars. In the north the gum of the
There now remains the task of harvesting our crop of kumara, or sweet potatos. The lifting of a root crop is denoted by the word hauhake. The sign for the commencement of this task was the cosmic rising of the star Whanui (Vega), and storehouses were put in order as the time drew near for this star to reappear. A keen lookout was kept, and, when it was first seen, the cry of “Ko Whanui, e! Ko Whanui!” (Here is Vega!) was heard resounding far and wide. This was
ngahuru, and that term has come to denote autumn and harvest time.
Certain ceremonial performances were gone through ere the digging of the crop was commenced. In these further offerings were made to the gods, and some tubers were cooked and eaten as part of the ceremonial. The tuapora or tamaahu, or first fruits of the crop, entered into several rites, and a portion thereof was offered to Rongo. Offerings were also made to Pani.
Small, light tools such as the pinaki and a light form of kaheru, were used in taking up the crop, but there was nothing spectacular in the task, as in the case of planting. When dug the tubers were carefully examined and sorted, a process termed kopana. Great care was necessary, for the least abrasion would cause the tuber to decay in the storehouse, and this would mean the decay of the rest if not carefully watched. All inferior tubers were set aside for immediate use. The others were put into large baskets, called tiraha, and so carried on the back to the storehouse. These baskets of produce were counted by means of the binary system, that is, in pairs. It was considered unlucky to only partially fill a basket, or to carry them in any other way than on the back. In many places women were not allowed to take any part in this task. After the crop had been lifted, as also the tapu, persons would sometimes go over the field and search for piwai or houhunga, tubers that had been overlooked by the crop lifters. Hence the twelfth month was called the gleaning month, the matahi kari piwai.
Really some of the beliefs of man are absurd to a degree. We are gravely informed that if a nest of the bird called pohowera is found in a field where the kumara is being cultivated, then the eggs in that nest are carefully counted, because, when the crop is lifted, there will be 20 baskets of produce for each egg that the nest contained.
The harvest feast, or hakari, was an important event in Maori eyes, and continued for some days. At such times the people indulged in all kinds of games and contests, such as have been described in a former chapter.
The tubers of the sweet potato required very careful storage. The two principal places of storage were semi-subterranean pits and well-like pits. The former are called rua tahuhu, rua tirawa, rua tatara, etc. An excavation some three to five feet in depth, of a rectangular form, was covered with a rua kopiha or rua korotangi. We also see old storage places excavated in hillsides and resembling caves; these are rua poka. Many have been excavated in soft sandstone and have dome-shaped roofs.
There was a certain amount of tapu pertaining to the root storepits, and some form of charm was recited when the crop was stored away.
The yam (uwhi and uwhikaho) was cultivated in the northern parts of the North Island, but it must have required much care, hence it became extinct here after the natives acquired the potato (Solanum) introduced by early voyagers. Cook and his companions mention having seen the yam as far south as Tolaga Bay. The cultivation of this product seems to have been carried on at the Bay of Islands after it had been abandoned further south, and this was probably because it was readily bought by early whalers calling at that port.
The taro (Colocasia antiquorum) is a third introduced food plant, brought from Polynesia in past centuries, one that is somewhat hardier, apparently, than the yam, inasmuch as it was cultivated further south. This plant is found growing wild in India and Indonesia, whence it has presumably been carried across the Pacific. As in the case of the kumara the variety now grown here seems to have been introduced by Europeans.
It does not appear that the Maori ever irrigated his taro patches, as was done in some isles of the Pacific. The Maori has preserved names of several varieties formerly cultivated here, and both root and leaf stalks (petioles) of these were eaten. It did not form so important a food supply as the sweet potato, and, being a perennial plant, there is nothing to record as to the harvest of the crop. It was occasionally employed in ceremonial performances but not to the extent that the kumara was. The taro is a fine, handsome plant when well grown. Sand and gravel were much used in its cultivation.
When engaged in planting the taro the Maori held that it was advisable to do so during certain phases only of the moon, the 17th, 18th, and 28th (Orongonui) nights being particularly favourable ones. They were planted in holes called whawharua, some of which were deep and some shallow, the former being termed ipurangi and the latter parua koau. Gravel was placed in the pit, and in this gravel four roots were planted. The holes were made in rows about two feet apart. The taro was seen growing as far south as Queen Charlotte Sound in 1839, though possibly it may have been the introduced variety at the latter place.
We have no knowledge as to any tapu functions pertaining to the planting of products other than the sweet potato. It is around the origin of this tuber that so many myths have gathered.
Taro plants were often protected from wind by brush screens, as was done with the kumara.
The hue, or gourd (Lagenaria vulgaris), the common name for which plant is hue, in some districts is called wenewene and kowenewene. The hard rind of the matured fruit was much used for water vessels, bowls, etc., called taha, ipu, and many other names. The mythical origin of the plant is referred to one Pu-te-hue, who flourished in the dim eras of the past when gods and other weird beings walked the earth. The above name is also used in a charm repeated when gourd seeds are planted, as though it represented the personified form of the plant.
Gourd seeds were planted during full moon, the 16th and 17th nights of the moon was the proper time. The planter went through a somewhat peculiar performance. Taking a seed in each hand, held between thumb and forefinger, he extended his arms and raised them until his hands met over his head. The arms, however, were bent as they were being raised, so that the fruit would assume that form in growth, and so be useful as water vessels. The sweeping motion of the arms was to cause the gourds to grow large. A kind of sympathetic white magic is here illustrated. The planter then inserted the seeds in the soil and covered them. The charm repeated by the planter calls upon the fruit of the plant to grow to a large size. The seeds were sometimes caused to germinate prior to planting by means of a process termed whakarau. They were embedded in damp, decayed wood and buried near a fireplace where the soil was warm. The Maori also fertilised female flowers of the plant as our early settlers did in the case of the pumpkin ere bees became numerous. He called the process whakaaiai.
Young fruit in the kotawa stage of growth was eaten, being cooked in the steam oven, but the principal use of the gourd was to serve as domestic vessels. A Bay of Plenty tradition is to the effect that the gourd was the first food product to be introduced into these isles. The plants were often grown in small hollows in the soil, “dishes” as Cook termed them. When used as water vessels a small hole was made in the hard, dry gourd, some gravel was inserted and shaken about to remove the fibrous interior substance. The large ones used for preserving birds and rats in had the tops cut off. Carved wooden necks or mouthpieces (tuki) were fastened on to the rim of the aperture. Some were mounted on carved wooden legs and adorned with feathers.
The fruit of the gourd assumed different forms, each of which had its name. Some resembled the old-fashioned water caraffe in form. Certain forms were produced by means of ligatures. Some of the bowls formed of half a gourd were adorned with decorative designs in black, very neatly executed. When natives obtained glass bottles from Capt. Cook and his companions they called them “calabashes” (taha).
It may be going too far to say that species of the genus Cordyline, the so-called cabbage tree, were cultivated by the Maori, but certainly two species were planted by them in the North Island. One of these was C. terminalis (ti pore), which was grown in the far north. It was almost extinct some years ago, when one or two specimens were found growing at places formerly occupied by natives. It was probably introduced by the natives in past centuries from Polynesia or Sunday Island. The other species formerly grown by the natives is the ti para, also known as ti tawhiti and ti kowhiti. It is an unnamed species, or variety. This plant does not develop into a tree as does C. australis; its stem is but about 4ft. to 6ft. in height in the matured plant. The writer has never seen this plant growing wild, and natives state that they have not known it in that condition. This looks as though it were another introduced form.
Of the ti para both trunk and taproot provided food for the Maori, and both consist of a mass of fibrous matter that contains a considerable amount of edible fecula or farina, as sago is produced by the sago palm. The plant was allowed to mature. When it does so a number of shoots spring from the base of the trunk; these can be detached and planted. The trunk was bent over and down and the upper end of it pegged down on the ground, and covered with earth. Ere long it struck root. When it did so the trunk was cut through at each end, the head and stump left to grow, while the trunk was cut up and cooked. The edible matter is termed para, hence the name of the plant, ti being a generic term that includes all species of Cordyline.
When about to be cooked the harder outside part of the trunk was chipped off; the soft interior portion was then cut into short lengths and cooked in a steam oven, in which it was allowed to remain for many hours. This prolonged cooking leaves a very soft mass of commingled fibre and fecula, the former being rejected by consumers. Sometimes the natives separated the edible matter from the fibres and ate it as a meal, or, by adding water, made a kind of gruel of it.
Taranaki natives maintain that this plant was introduced into New Zealand by the immigrants who came hither on the
para has a sweetish taste, but leaves a peculiar bitter after taste in the mouth; such at least was my own experience. Curiously enough, we have no record of any flowering specimen of this plant having been seen. Colenso tells us that the trunk dies off after the base has thrown up a number of shoots.
The roots of the mauku ( Cordyline pumilio) were also utilised in the same way, and this species was planted by natives of the Waikato district, and probably elsewhere.
Several writers speak of the stem of the ti para having been tightly ligatured when it was bent and pegged down. It seems to be clear that only young forms of other species were used. The tree form of C. australis was useless, we are told, as a food provider, so far as trunk and root were concerned, only young plants were of service. Natives state that the head of the plant was cut off in early spring and the stem left standing for some months ere it was taken. The long taproot is called kopura in the Whanganui district. This C. australis (ti kouka) is considered to be inferior to the ti para as a food provider. In the South Island, where the latter form was unknown, the name was applied to C. australis. Old natives have assured me that, when this product is being cooked, it is highly necessary that men and women should be circumspect in their behaviour, otherwise the roots will not cook properly.
The tap root of C. indivisa was sometimes utilised, and the bases of young leaves of Cordyline formed a meagre food supply. South Island natives used C. australis, but did not cultivate it; they selected young plants with stems about 4ft. in height, and applied the term kauru to them. This food product was obtained in the summer season, cooked, and often preserved for future use. The root also was utilised, but in many cases it was left in the ground so that it would produce another stem. When disengaged from the containing fibres the fecula was called waitau kauru. In spring the root of C.
australis was sometimes obtained for immediate use, when it was cooked by being covered with hot ashes and embers.
We are told that, when the Cordyline roots and stems were being collected and cooked, the first obtained was set aside as an offering to the gods, and others were cooked to be utilised in a ceremonial feast. The term rua ti denotes a storehouse in which this comestible was preserved for future use, but it came to be used as an expression denoting plenty, industry, and thoughtfulness in cultivating food supplies. Hence such sayings as the following: “Ka tu te rua ti o te tangata ka kiia he tangata.” When a man possesses a rua ti he is deemed a person of some standing.
The karaka tree (Corynocarpus lœvigatus) was often planted by natives around their villages. Tradition states that it was introduced into New Zealand many generations ago. If so, then it was probably brought from Sunday Island, the Rangitahua of the Maori, at which isle some of the old-time vessels called when on their way to these isles. It is not, strictly speaking, a forest tree in New Zealand. No less than four different vessels are credited in tradition with its introduction.
Apparently the aute, or paper tree, needed some care in order to preserve it in this cool climate, for it soon disappeared after the arrival of Europeans.
The introduction of the cultivated food products of Europe had a great effect on Maori life and industry. The sub-tropical food plants introduced by Polynesians into these isles called for much work and much care on the part of the tillers of the soil; in some districts they could not be grown. The hardy introduced potato could be grown almost anywhere, and with ease; hence the decay of the culture of the old native products. Thus the yam and gourd have disappeared, while most of the kumara and taro seen in cultivation now are not the old Maori varieties.
Fishing an important native industry—Tangaroa—Origin of fish—Tinirau, and his Puna—Fishing a tapu pursuit—The mauri of fish—Tribal fishing rights and areas—Fishing banks and rocks—How fishing grounds were located—Fishing charms—Net fishing—Net making—Intense tapu of new nets—Seines—Different forms of nets—Ceremonial wetting of new net—First fish released—Ceremonial performances—The umere or pæan of joy—Funnel-shaped nets 70ft. in length—Efficiency of “long slumbering cormorant”—Huge seines—The great Taranui seine of 1885—The sensational hauling of a huge net—Mythical origin of fishing nets—Trolling—The octopus as a food supply—Sharks—Crayfish—Shellfish—Line fishing—Different forms of hooks—Ceremonial observances over new lines—Outrigger fishing device—Curious forms of hooks—Iron nails planted—Albatross hooks—Freshwater fish—The eel—Eel weirs—Migrant eels—Eel pots—Fish traps of fine manufacture—Eel fare—Eel spears—Eel bobbing—The koumu—Mythical origin of eels—Lampreys—Description of lamprey weir—Small species of river fish—The kokopu (Galaxias)—Grayling—Whitebait—How Cheimarrichthys Forsteri is taken—Other small fry.
Fishing was an industry that was universally followed in the land of the Maori. Agriculture could not, as we have seen, be followed in all parts, but fishing in some form was followed in all districts. Those tribes whose lands gave upon the coast were specially favoured, and sea fishing was one of their most important activities. Tribes that dwelt inland were cut off from access to the ocean, and so devoted their attention to the taking of fresh-water fish. It is a much-to-be-regretted fact that we know but little of the pursuit of fishing as practised by the Maori; its methods have never been explained by any of the early writers. The voluminous ritual and innumerable beliefs and superstitions pertaining to fish and fishing are
E taea hoki te aha? The salved fragments must suffice.
Tangaroa, one of the offspring of the primal parents, the Sky Father and Earth Mother, held the position of tutelary being of all fish, and is often alluded to as personifying fish. He was appealed to by fishermen when repeating charms to ensure good luck in fishing, and offerings were made to him for the same purpose. The other duties of Tangaroa were those of controlling the ocean tides, a task that he shared with Rona, the guide or conductor of the moon, the “woman in the moon” of popular myth. Tangaroa of the vast realm of ocean waters is closely connected with the moon, and we have seen that several nights or phases of the moon bear his name.
After the poutiriao, or guardians of the different realms of the universe had been appointed, including those of the ocean, then the denizens of the ocean and the fresh waters of the land were placed in those waters, and all are under the sway of Tangaroa. Apart from this overlord there are other beings who are spoken of as being connected with the origin of fish. Thus the river eel, the conger eel, and the frost fish are said to be the grandchildren of Te Ihorangi, personified form of rain. The freshwater eel is called tuna, a name that is also employed as that of the personified form of eels. There are many clans of the Tuna tribe, or, as we would say, many varieties of eels. Eels were not produced on earth but in the heavens, and only came down to earth when a great drought prevailed in celestial regions. The whitebait, shark, frostfish, conger eel and lamprey are said to have come down at the same time in search of the cool waters of earth. The eel, lamprey and whitebait were assailed by the others and so sought refuge in the fresh waters of earth, where we still find them. The stingray, garfish and some others are said to be the offspring of Te Arawaru.
The name of Tinirau, often met with in Maori myth, is another term connected with fish. It is the name of a mythical being said to be the son of Tangaroa. In the myth of Hina, the personified form of the moon, Tinirau appears to represent
Another version of the myth of Tinirau makes him the offspring of Te Pu-whakahara, who was born of the Earth Mother. Tinirau became the progenitor of whales. Tinirau seems to have been a fish conserver; he is spoken of as having preserves of fish. The myth of what is called Te Puna i Rangiriri (the Spring at Rangiriri), speaks of that place as the origin of all fish. Thus it is often mentioned in charms repeated by fishermen. It is sometimes alluded to as Te Puna a Tinirau—the spring or well of Tinirau, a name that is also applied to the blow hole of a whale. The words tini and rau are both employed in the sense of “innumerable,”hence the being so named may well represent the countless myriads of sea fish. There is also the narrower association with the whale to be considered.
In writing of the natives of Queen Charlotte Sound Captain Cook remarked: “We were by no means such expert fishers as they are; nor were any of our methods of fishing equal to theirs.” Early writers enlarge upon the dexterity of the native fishermen, the excellence of their fishing lines, and the huge size of some of their seines.
There is one matter connected with fishing on which particular stress must be placed, and that is the strict tapu that pertained to the industry. This was not only in connection with the actual fishing; it also extended to the manufacture of a new net, and appeared in divers other ways. The good fortune of fishermen hinged largely on the attitude of the gods, who must be placated and invoked in order to secure a good take of fish. Hence the tapu of the gods permeated all proceedings and processes; the prohibitions and inconveniences imposed by the condition of tapu represent the price paid for success.
These prohibitions were particularly noticeable in sea fishing, and men proceeding out to sea in fishing canoes were not allowed to take any food with them, inasmuch as the vessel
tapu. When hauling a fish into the canoe it was counted an unlucky happening if it was allowed to touch the gunwale thereof. That fish must be laid lengthwise in the vessel, otherwise if any person stepped over it some dire misfortune would assail him. So say the Bay of Plenty natives.
We have spoken of the material mauri or talisman pertaining to forests, streams, etc., and the same institution existed in connection with the fish of the sea. The mauri of sea fish was sometimes a stone that was concealed at some part of the coast line of the tribal lands. It attracted and conserved the fish of the adjacent part of the ocean. Its power to do so emanated from the gods, and it served as a kind of shrine or emblem of such gods; it represented their powers. The mauri of a stream would be concealed near that stream. Should it be found and taken away by any illdisposed person, then fish would forsake the stream. A fishing canoe might also have its talisman, and its mission was to retain the tapu of the vessel, to influence the gods to protect it at sea, and to render “complacent” the denizens of the deep. Should the fishermen using the vessel be repeatedly unlucky in their fishing, then it was known that there was something wrong with the talisman. Perchance it had been stolen, or its condition of tapu had been interfered with.
In his History of the Taranaki Coast Mr. S. Percy Smith tells of the mauri of the kahawai fish (Arripis salar) of the Wai-o-ngana district. It consisted of a small quantity of sea sand that had been rendered tapu by means of certain ritual performed over it by a priestly expert. It was kept in a form of stone cup called a punga-tai, and a little of it sprinkled in the water by fishermen caused the above fish to throng about the canoe. These talismanic objects were believed to attract fish hither from Rangiriri, mentioned above, which is situated somewhere far across the ocean. In that district (Taranaki) was also a special talisman for the lamprey, which formed quite an important food supply in former times.
The mauri of whales at Te Mahia peninsula is a famous talisman. It appears to be a hill or hillock that resembles a whale in form. It has the power of attracting whales, hence
kauika pakake (school of whales) was seen at sea the beach near the talisman was put under tapu. Like all other things, whales possess an immaterial mauri, or life principle, and so can be affected by charms and magic rites.
All tribes whose territory impinged upon the ocean held the right of fishing off such coast line, and any trespass on such a domain by folk of another tribe would be resented. As to how far out to sea such rights extended I have no information. With regard to rivers and lakes a similar rule was in force. In the case of a lake that provided an important amount of food supplies the surface thereof was divided into different areas as belonging to different sections of the people. Thus in Lake Rotorua these divisions were, at least in some cases, marked by posts or stakes fixed in the shoal waters.
Nicholas has left us the following note on a similar custom in the Bay of Islands district in connection with the taking of sea fish, as observed by him in 1815: “These people are very industrious in attending to their fisheries, which are here numerous and well supplied; and the right of fishing in certain places is recognised among them, and the limits marked out by stakes driven into the water. We observed several rows of these stakes belonging to the different tribes, each having respectively their prescribed boundaries, beyond which they durst not venture to trespass.”
Each fishing rock and fishing bank or ground belonging to a community had its proper name. These banks, and many of the rocks, were situated out in deep water, for the Maori fisherman would run out eight or ten miles to reach a good ground. All these places were located by fishermen by means of certain tohu, or sings; that is, they were found by lining certain objects on shore. Occasionally, if not quite sure, the fishers would lower a stone anchor some depth, and fish as they slowly drifted. When fish began to bite they knew that the fishing ground was below them. The lining in of a
taunga ika and tauranga ika. The fishing ground of Kapuarangi, on the east coast of the North Island, was named after a hill that forms one of the lining points. Some hill peaks so utilised are many miles inland.
The charms repeated by fishermen are in many cases difficult to render into English. In one is noted a peculiar use of the term waro, a word meaning a deep pit, chasm, but here used to denote the depths of the ocean. It is employed as though the reciter was addressing the personified form of the ocean deeps, as: “Here is the bait, O Deeps; a crayfish fishing bait, O Deeps; a trout fishing bait, O Deeps,” etc. The Maori had great faith in such charms.
No phase of the art of fishing better illustrates the ceremonial performances and tapu pertaining to it than the making and wetting (whakainu) of a new net. When a large seine was to be made the work of netting the fabric was often done piecemeal; each family or family group of a community would make a certain length. When these were all completed arrangements were made to assemble them and so turn out the complete article. A part of this task would be the attaching of the ropes, sinkers and floats. Long, waterworn and rounded stones were sought to serve as sinkers. A favoured material for floats was the extremely light wood of the houama or whau, a small tree (Entelea aborescens). Net ropes were made from undressed leaves of Phormium tenax, or leaves of the so-called “cabbage tree”
The following curious practice was followed in some districts. When a supply of leaves of Phormium was to be procured for the purpose of making a new net, an expert would proceed to the pa harakeke, or grove of Phormium, and there
tuahu or sacred place of the village, where he deposited them. After this the people would proceed to cut the required quantity of leaves.
The process of netting the seine would now proceed, each party working on a section thereof. The middle portion was made with a smaller mesh than that used in the manufacture of the two ends. A mesh is termed mata, a word that has at least four synonyms. A wooden mesh gauge was sometimes employed, and it was known as a papa kupenga, but many net makers formed the mesh over the fingers, dispensing with the gauge. A gauge for a small mesh is a papa kutikuti, while one for a large mesh is termed a papa matahaere. There are other terms denoting large and small meshes.
Stringent tapu pertains to the place where a net is being made. Certain formulæ were recited during the process of manufacture. If the work was carried on near the beach, then not only the place itself, but also the adjacent stretch of sea was placed under strict tapu; all with a view of conciliating the gods. Any canoe passing into the forbidden area would be seized and destroyed; its occupants would be lucky if they escaped with their lives. The village home and all its occupants were under tapu. No person might cook or partake of food. The Rev. Mr. Yate has left us an account of his coming upon a party of net makers on a beach he was traversing. He was not allowed to proceed on his journey, and so had to return. He remarks that the tapu of net making was next in importance to that of death. Wade tells us of a similar experience that he had, and states that tapu was a fruitful source of warfare; its breach being treated with great severity. Polack tells us that net makers were placed under tapu in order to get them to continue at their task until it was finished, but the cause of the embargo was a much more serious one, as already stated.
Some native authorities have told us that, among their people, net makers might not wear their ordinary garments, but each man had to provide himself with a new garment to wear while engaged in the task. In the process of manufacture many knots were formed where a fresh strip of material was attached. Should two of these knots chance to come close together the netter would make a curious noise with his lips. We are gravely told that this was to call the attention of great Tangaroa to the two knots, that he might send so many fish into the net that they would be as close together as the two knots. If a man had his finger caught by the strip of material when forming a mesh, some tell us that it was an unlucky sign for him, while others say that it betokened the catching of a fish in that mesh. The knot employed in making a net is the same as our own.
The generic term for nets is kupenga, and the seine we are now describing is termed a kaharoa. The following names of the parts of the seine have been culled from Williams'Maori Dictionary. The belly, or middle part of a net, is the ngake, kete, or konae. The tu, tapai or uru is the first part put in the water. The matakēkē are the two sections on either side of the ngake or middle section. The tuara-matakēkē are the two sections outside the two matakēkē sections. The hawhe or kauangaroa are the two end sections. The terms wana, tarukenga and takapu are also applied to the middle portion of a seine. The whakahihi is also a section name, but it is not quite clear as to where its place is, or as to which part is the uru. Kahatu and tahatu denote the upper edge of a seine. The kaha-runga is its upper rope, and the kaha-raro is the lower one. The pae-runga and pae-raro and the ropes by means of which a seine is hauled. The rod placed at the end of the seine to keep it stretched is the taketake. The floats are termed poito, pouto, karewa and korewa. The stones used as weights or sinkers are karihi. Sinkers were often smooth, waterworn stones of elongated form, and these were enclosed in a sort of netted bag called a kopua that was then attached to the lower part of the seine.
The rangatahi is a small form of seine about ten fathoms in length. We have wai as the bag of a net; korohe, a bag
puhoro, a large net; while hutu, kukuti, matiratira, porohe, takeke, tarahou, tauwhatu, tawauwau, tiheru, turangaapa and whakawhiu are other net names. The tarawa or tawiri is a conical net, the purangi a bag net for lampreys, or a guiding net used at a weir. The korapa is a scoop or landing net, the koko a small hand net for taking the kehe fish, while the koko kahawai or tikoko is a landing net for kahawai fish. Horapa is the name of a small hand net, while the atata, toemi and pouraka are hoop nets or traps. The whakapuru is a shrimp net fixed on a frame, the titoko a hand net arranged on a forked stick, the toere, rohe and aruaru are also hand nets. The kaha is a net for whitebait, and the tata a small bag net. Probably some of these terms are synonyms. The auparu net is used in the mouth of a river, fastened to poles called pou-tahaki. Tauhokai and ririwai are also names of stakes driven into a river bed to fasten nets to.
In some districts the net makers were not allowed to cut the loose ends of a knot when tying two strips of material together. All these loose ends were cut off by the directing expert when the net was finished and all the different sections had been arranged in place and fastened together. The ropes, end spreaders, floats and sinkers were then attached. Our new seine is now finished and is ready for the ceremonial first wetting.
The expert gathers together the loose ends he has cut off, takes them to the tapu place of the village, and there deposits them, reciting at the same time a charm to ensure good luck in the first hauling of the net. He then returns to the net, which is lying at full length on the ground. The net is not rolled up for the purpose of carrying it to the canoe, but is carried at full length by a number of men. The net is lying spread north and south; the men take station on the west side of the net about ten feet or two fathoms apart. At the cry of “Hapainga!” (Lift it!) from the expert, each man assists in gathering the net together, when they swing it up on to their left shoulders. The expert now gives the word to march, and the long line of net bearers swings forward, the expert at the head of the line. On arriving at the canoe that is to be
taurua, two canoes fastened together side by side. As each man passes over his portion of the net he turns to the right and steps aside.
When the whole of the net is placed on the canoe the expert repeats another formula addressed to Tangaroa. The restricting tapu lies heavy on land and sea during these operations. The prow of the vessel is now swung seaward, and the crew and expert step on board, the latter first, and all are careful to place the left foot in the canoe first. The paddlers bend to their work and the vessel makes for the hauling ground. All people of the village home are compelled to fast until the return of the fishermen. Having reached the grounds the men proceed to pass the net overboard, and, as it touches the water the expert stands up and repeats another formula. As the canoe forges slowly ahead the net is paid out. When the middle section of it passes out another charm is repeated.
The net having been drawn, the expert takes one fish therefrom with his left hand, and, holding it so that its head is under the water, he repeats: “Now go to the great ocean and assemble and conduct hither your multitudes.” He then liberates the fish outside the net, thus allowing it to escape. If that fish darts swiftly away the fact is taken as a sign that the new net will be a lucky one. In some cases the expert, prior to releasing the fish, would pull a hair from his head and place it in the mouth of the fish. Some held the fish out toward the east as they recited a charm over it. In some places this first fish had a small shred of flax passed through its gills and tied, after which it was either taken to the tuahu and offered to the gods, with a request for good hauls in the future, or liberated.
If a heavy catch has been made the expert repeats a charm to prevent the net breaking, as a line fisher repeated one to prevent his line breaking when he hooked a large fish.
The fish are now taken from the net, but none may be cooked and eaten until another ceremony has been performed. The expert takes two fish of the catch to the sacred tuahu, where he thrusts two rods into the earth, one on the eastern side of the tapu place, and one on its western side. To each of
In some places the second fish taken from the net was cooked and eaten ceremonially by prominent members of the community. Another custom was for the expert to take three fish to the tapu place, and there deposit them in three holes that he dug to accommodate them. He then recited a charm and departed. The people might then prepare food, and the tapu was lifted from the proceedings, people, and surrounding land and sea. The expert returned to the tuahu on the morrow, and if the three fish had been molested in any way, then Tangaroa was said to have accepted the offering, and all would be well with the new net.
Men were often stationed on the hill tops near the beach in order to act as lookouts. They would observe the movements of a school of fish and signal to the fishermen in their canoes.
When a net was hauled on ordinary occasions, the women would be on the beach to assist, and, if a good catch had been made, those women would indulge in titihawa, or cries of joy, in the form of a short pæan termed an umere, such as the following:—
The kaharoa net was sometimes used in the wide-mouthed tidal rivers, one end being secured ashore. Small gourds were sometimes employed as floats for this net. In cases where a heavy catch was made a form of scoop net secured to a pole handle was useful in taking fish from the net ere it was drawn up on the beach.
The matarau, tarawa, or tawiri was a funnel-shaped net much used by the Maori, more especially on rocky coast lines where a drag net could not be used. These nets had some bait fastened inside them, and were sunk by means of stone sinkers. The tarawa was distended by means of a wooden hoop at the orifice, the hoop being the stem of a climbing plant. Some cords were secured to the hoop so as to cross this
A form of huge bag net was used in tidal rivers. Colonel McDonnell speaks of seeing them 70ft. in length, 25ft. in diameter at the mouth, of a funnel shape, narrowing to 18 inches at the small end. The Matatua folk apply the name of purangi to these nets. A better known name is ahuriri, of which riritai is a synonym. This latter is not a widely-known name, and its origin was as follows:—A chief of the Popoto clan, named Ahuriri, made one of these nets single-handed when over 90 years of age, it being about 75ft. in length. Here a difficulty arose. The net could not be referred to as an ahuriri, for that was the name of the chief of the clan, and to call it by his name would have meant trouble swift and certain. Hence a new name for that kind of net had to be coined, and the name so adopted was riritai.
All fish nets and traps that are set, and not handled, are termed kawau moe roa (long slumbering cormorant). This bird, though ever so still, is yet alive to its business, and, in like manner, a sleeping net takes many fish. When a good haul of fish was taken in such a set net, then might be heard the remark: “Ou mahi, e te kawau moe roa” (Thy deeds, O thou long slumbering cormorant).
The following few notes on net-making are contributed by an east coast native.
When a large net was being made, the section undertaken by a family might be sub-let as it were, several persons making a portion each, and these pieces would be joined together. Or several might work together at the section, each person netting a line of meshes, and working so as to follow each other. Netting was done from left to right. In com-
ngakau, was doubled and secured to a peg driven into the earth. On this looped cord the first line of meshes was made, the meshes working loosely and freely on the cord. As the kaita or netter proceeds with his work he pushes the formed meshes along the cord to his left, thus bunching them. In making a mesh, the operator passes the strip he is manipulating over the gauge, which was sometimes fashioned from whale's bone, and hitches it on to the row above. When the section is finished the ngakau is drawn out. The netter has frequently to tie on another strip of Phormium leaf as he works.
In making some of the small nets that were made of dressed fibre twine, that twine was rolled into a ball, which was handled and passed through the upper mesh. Also the ngakau was stretched taut between two pegs.
When watching a Whanganui native making a net it was noted that he used two fingers of the left hand for regulating the size of the mesh. One finger was inserted in the formed mesh of the completed part, and the other extended to form the new mesh on. This means that the fingers were not bunched to serve as a gauge, and that the size was really regulated by eye; yet the work was well done.
The early visitors to these shores were much struck by the dimensions of some of the seines employed by the natives. Dr. Thomson stated that some were 1,000 yards in length. Cruise (1820) wrote: “Though of the same size with others served out to king's ships, our seine was contemptible when compared with those of the New Zealanders. They are immensely large, and they are hauled remarkably slow, but with great success.” Crozet (1772) gives 500ft. as the length, and tells us that the stone sinkers were enclosed in a network sheath at the bottom of the seine. The number of men necessary to haul these seines, as given by early writers, runs from 60 to 500!
Polack speaks of seines “several thousand feet in length” in his jaunty manner. Banks saw a seine that was five fathoms deep, the length of which could not, he stated, be less than 400 or 500 fathoms.
To conclude these remarks on the big seines formerly employed by the Maori let us note a huge one that was made in 1885 by the Pikiao clan of the Arawa tribe, at the instigation of the old chief Cordyline. The stone sinkers were enclosed in a sort of pouch which was secured to the lower edge of the seine. The sections of the seine were carried to Otumakoro, where the toronga or joining was carried out under tapu. When the completed seine was stretched out it was measured by Captain Turner and others, and found to be three-quarters of a mile in length.
No single canoe could handle the above net, hence the two largest available, both of the waka taua type, were placed side by side and so secured by crosspieces, the huge seine being placed on a platform built across both vessels. The canoe was paddled seaward, and an old expert ascended to the top of the telegraph tower hard by to direct operations. These were witnessed by many people, and were, briefly, as follows, as described by Capt.
Shoal after shoal of fish was allowed to pass by the wary old expert on his lofty station. The crew wished to encircle one of the larger shoals, but the expert knew better. At last an insignificant brown patch was seen moving across the water, and then came the cry of the cautious expert: “Haukotia mai!” (Intercept it). The paddlers bent to their task and paddled north, then west, with six men paying out the seine. The canoe made the shore about 400 yards from the starting point, with a considerable portion of the seine still on board.
The task now was to haul the seine, but this was found to be impossible, in spite of the many hands employed. The catch was too heavy to be hauled. The unexpended portion of the seine was then taken to reinforce the konae, or belly, which was 30ft. in depth. The old expert, Te Whanarere, descended from his perch and swam out to attend to matters. The waters he swam through were alive with fish, including sharks, but they had other things to think of, and so did not molest him. His characteristic cry of “Ko Tangaroa pukanohi nui e
kimi putanga ana” showed that he knew that the dangerous creatures in the net thought only of escape. On reaching the canoe he told the men to hoist the belly of the net so as to let a large part of the catch escape. This was done, but the net was still immovable, hence the
The net was then hauled in on a full tide and secured to many firmly driven stakes; it was impossible to haul it up on the beach; it was so anchored that the ebbing tide would leave it exposed. The people impatiently awaited the fall of the tide; they were not allowed to partake of food while so waiting. When the catch was stranded Te Pokiha had the catch separated into 37 lots, one for each band of natives present, and not forgetting European visitors. Under the supervision of tallymen the large catch was distributed. Many big sharks and stingray were left in the net. Seven species of shark were found in the seine, and among the flotsam hauled in were three anchors. The number of fish ran into many thousands, and this was a small proportion of the original catch of that small school. With this narrative it were well to conclude our notes on big seines.
The small hoop net or trap, termed a toemi, has the net fabric extending inward at the top over the hoop. By pulling a cord attached to this part the fisherman can close the net prior to pulling it up. A form of this net was used for taking crayfish on the east coast.
An old story tells us that the fishing net was not an invention of the ancestors of the Maori, but that the knowledge of its manufacture and use was acquired in ancient times from a strange fair-skinned folk. These folk are alluded to as Turehu and Patupaearehe, an abnormal or supernormal people whom we have already met when discussing Maori folk lore. The story runs thus:—An ancestor named Kahukura chanced to come upon some of these Turehu folk when they were hauling a net during the night, for they never did so during the day. He joined the Turehu and assisted to haul the net, not being recognised as a stranger owing to the darkness. He was
The above story has been localised in New Zealand, but was brought hither from Polynesia. The natives of Mangonui, in the far north of New Zealand, claim that their eponymic ancestor Tamatea was the man who had the above adventure with a clan of Turehu folk known as Parau. The same story is told at Niue Island, in Polynesia.
The large nets were suspended on elevated rails termed tarawa for the purpose of drying. They were then piled on elevated platforms called whata kupenga, and these were roofed over to preserve the nets.
The kahawai, a prized fish, was taken without using bait, the hook being formed of a wooden shank or back lined with a piece of brightly-coloured Haliotis shell that served as a lure. The lines were towed through a school of fish from a canoe that was paddled at a good rate. The barracouta was also taken with a baitless hook of rude form with which the water was thrashed. These hooks are termed pohau mangā. In olden days they were sometimes set with dogs'teeth. Wood of the beech called tawhai is said to be attractive to barracouta.
In many cases a lure of feathers was fastened to baitless hooks. Any ordinary bait is termed mounu, but the term poa, frequently heard, is not precisely a synonym of mounu; it carries more the sense of lure. Ground bait (taruru) is termed poa, but an ordinary bait of fish or shellfish secured to a hook is called mounu. Some fish cannot be taken by hook and line, but only by net or trap. The so-called frost fish was not taken, but simply found; it is a deep water fish that is found cast up on the beach after a frosty night. The nohu
nohu is said to be a poisonous fish.
The whai or stingray was taken with a wooden spear. Small wheke (octopus) were taken by hand among rocks. When the creature twines its tentacles round the fisherman's arm, he seizes it with the other hand by the under part of the body. A native companion of mine once came across one as we were prowling among some rocks that were partially submerged. He at once proceeded to capture it bare-handed, and succeeded, whereupon he cut off its tentacles and cooked and ate the creature. Meanwhile the writer had modestly retired.
Sharks were taken by the Maori both for food and, with regard to certain species, for the sake of their teeth, which were utilised as cutting implements and as ornaments. The dried flesh of sharks, so much prized by the Maori as a delicacy, is a highly fragrant comestible.
The taking of crayfish formed quite an important part of sea-fishing activities of the Maori. Even the small fresh-water species was taken in large quantities in a few places, as at the lakes of Rotoiti and Rotorua. Several different devices were employed in taking this prized food product, and these were known by the names pouraka, roukoura, taruke, tau, tauhuroa, tukutuku and whakaweku.
The small freshwater species of crayfish was taken by means of dredge net, called a paepae at Rotorua, and also by means of bundles of fronds of the common fern or bracken. These were sunk in lakes and allowed to lie on the bed thereof for some time. The crayfish looked upon them as desirable refuges, and entered them in numbers. When the bunches of bracken were hauled up into a canoe a shaking process soon dislodged the koura or crayfish. These contrivances were known as tau koura and whakaweku. They were also taken in the pouraka, a form of trap that was set for kokopu (Galaxias) at Lake Taupo.
The taruke is a lobster pot employed in taking the sea crayfish, and some of these traps were of considerable size. The bait was placed inside them, as also were stones to act as sinkers, and a float was attached to the lowering rope. Bait
kaweru. In some cases the bait was placed in a small netted baglike receptacle called a torche. Starfish (patangaroa), sea eggs and shellfish were used as bait. Natives have informed me that crayfish were sometimes taken by means of a bob. Charms were repeated when the pots were set. Crayfish were also taken by hand, both men and women being dexterous at ruku koura, as the method was called. Some men descended to a considerable depth among the rocks in search of their prey. The Maori gives names for seven different kinds of crayfish, all of which are said, in native myth, to be the offspring of Kohurau and Tahumaero.
Shellfish were as important a food supply as fish in some places, and great shell middens seen on some coast lines show how much the natives relied on this food supply in olden days. The collecting of shellfish was generally the task of women. Where plentiful they were eaten in large quantities in a fresh condition, and also dried for future use, being threaded on cords termed takiaho. The terms raro, karau and hao were applied to implements used in taking shellfish. The paua or Haliotis was taken from the rocks it adhered to with an implement termed a ripi, of which a fine specimen, fashioned from moa bone, was found at Wellington. These large shellfish were collected in baskets termed kawhiu.
Shellfish were cooked in a steam oven, or, in some cases, the tuwhatu method was employed, consisting of placing the shelfish in a heap and then encircling the heap with a ring of fire. In Maori myth shellfish are the descendants of Hinemoana, the Ocean Maid. Cockles originated from Te Arawaru and Kaumaihi; mussels sprang from a female relative of the Ocean Maid, who produced all the different species of seaweed to serve as shelter for her descendants. Those shellfish children were taken to Rakahore (personified form of rock), who acts as their guardian, and protects them.
The taking of freshwater mussels was effected in several ways. In shoal waters the natives often felt for them in the mud, lifted them with their toes, and placed them in a basket. The writer has procured a meal in this way, but found the process a somewhat tedious one, and the subsequent meal by no means a satisfactory one.
The kapu was a form of long-handled scoop that was employed in taking these mussels (kakahi) from the bed of a lagoon or shoal lake. At Rotorua lake the name seems to be applied to the dredge rake (manga or mangakino) though such application scarcely seems to be a happy one. This dredge rake had a net attached to it and was manipulated by means of a long pole handle. At Horowhenua the mussel-taking device is called a tangare.
Line fishing was widely practised by the natives, principally from canoes, in which they went out to well-known fishing grounds. Fishing canoes in some places were fitted with a series of permanent fish baskets or receptacles erected in the middle of the hold of the vessel, so that each man could keep his catch separate from that of his companions. They were made by securing a netted bag to a framework of rods.
A fishing line is termed an aho and nape. Fish hooks are termed maka, matika, matikara and noni. The shell or shell-lined hooks used without bait are called pa, pakirori, and paua, sometimes kowaiwai, on account of their sinuous motion when drawn through the water. The shank or back of a shell-lined hook is the papa, or kauawhi. I have also heard the name of kawiti applied to it, but I am not sure of its correctness.
The okooko is a wooden hook for taking barracouta, and pohau seems to be another name for it. The bend near the
kou; the curve of the other end is the kotore. The butt end, where it is attached to the line, is the koreke. The barb, or point, is the niwha, kaniwha, keka, tito or matapatete. The twine used to secure hook to line is the taka, taukaea and whiwhita. Gummy preservatives were sometimes used on the seized lashing; that obtained from the pukapuka shrub is termed kouaha. The gum of Pittosporum eugenioides, called pia tarata, was used for the same purpose. Sinkers are termed makihea, māhē, and maihea, while the cord that secures the sinker to the line is the taumahe. Bait for a hook is mounu, maunu and parangia, while the twine used in tying it on is the pakaikai or tawekoweko. A spreader for hooks is pekapeka or paepae, sometimes paepaeroa. Lines fastened to it are reke, and the detachable cord to which the spreader is secured is the toro.
A cord on which fish are strung is called a kaui, and to one end of it is attached a form of bodkin to act as a threader. This is the autui, auika, or auwai. The whakarino was a form of fish basket secured to a hoop in which a fisherman deposited his catch.
The peculiar term mangoingoi has been applied to fishing from the beach by night, but as to why anyone should so fish at night, and also claim a specific term for doing so at unholy hours is more than I can say. In shore fishing some natives had a singular mode of procedure. They waded out as far as was practicable, and, when a fish was hooked, walked ashore, and so hauled the fish to land, instead of coiling up the line. Line fishers would sometimes hold one line in hand and hold another by means of placing a foot on it. The latter is called an aho tararo. Charms were employed by all fishermen. The use of feather lures was well understood. Early voyagers tell us that some of the fishing lines were of great length, and Labillardiere describes some symmetrical sinkers, carefully fashioned, and having a pierced protuberance through which to pass a cord.
There was a considerable diversity of form in both net and line sinkers, many were grooved in order to accommodate a
When a man used a new fishing line for the first time his companions refrained from casting their own lines until he had wetted his. As he tied the bait on each hook he spat on it. He then coiled up the line and passed it under his left thigh, after which, as he faced the bow of the vessel, he cast his line over the left side. When the line was out he held it in his left hand, and, dipping up some water in his right hand, he cast it on the line. The first fish caught by him on his new line was not eaten; it was reserved as an offering to the gods and to the spirits of his ancestors. When he returned home he generated new fire and roasted at that fire the gills of the fish. He divided this into two portions, one of which he held up and waved to and fro, as an offering to the spirits of his male forebears. He then acted in a like manner with the other portion, but offered it to his female ancestors. The first fish caught was styled “the fish of Tangaroa.”
The form of outrigger used in line fishing on the east coast was called a tautara. A similar device was used at Tahiti, as described by Ellis. The latter was a long rod with two prongs at its outer end. The tautara used on the east coast of our North Island is said to have had bunches of shells fastened to it, and these warned the fisherman of a catch.
When engaged in kahawai fishing (hoe kahawai) the trailing lines were apt to become entangled, hence certain outriggers were employed to space them out. Several were trailed immediately overside, one at the stern passed over a crotch in a rod secured in an upright position. Others were trailed on either side from the ends of poles lashed to the canoe in a horizontal position and projecting outward. When a fish was caught on one of these lines a paddle or rod was used to reach the line with and bring it inboard.
Hooks lined with the iridescent Haliotis shell were used without bait in taking kahawai and kingfish. The towing of the lines by a canoe causes the hook to oscillate in a manner that resembles the movement of a fish. The term titiwha denotes this form of trolling. A modern usage in fishing for kahawai is the reti. The lines were secured to a piece of plank
The barracouta is termed mangā by the Maori, who applies the name to several fish. The mangā-ahuone is the one commonly used as an article of food. The mangā tutara is said to be valueless as food, while the mangā ripo is some deep water fish, the teeth of which are said to have been sometimes used in what we term “shark tooth knives.” The expression kaihau mangā denotes the peculiar mode of taking the barracouta. The hook was secured to a short rod by means of a short cord. The fisherman forcibly dashed this to and fro in the water, and the eager fish took the baitless hook readily.
The tamure and a few other fish were eaten raw in the form of what is termed kaniwha. The flesh was cut up, soaked in fresh water, and then underwent a squeezing process in several waters prior to being eaten.
Old natives have informed me that hooks having the barbs inturned so much as to be near the base of the shank are superior to those showing a wider space, hence they did not approve of our hooks, preferring to acquire nails or other pieces of metal, and fashion from them hooks to their liking. They explained that wide-spaced hooks need to be jerked by the fishermen in order to catch a fish, but that the close set ones do not. With the latter they could attach six or eight hooks to a line, and, if fish were biting readily, wait until they had caught a fish on each hook.
Some hooks were made in one piece, including the barb, the materials being bone, sometimes shell, and occasionally wood. Then we have the pa type mentioned above. Some of these were composed of a shell shank having no kauawhi or backing, and a detachable barb. Others had a shell (Haliotis) lining secured to a backing of wood, stone or bone. The barbed points were neatly secured to the shanks by lashing. Detachable barbs were generally bone, sometimes human bone, and occasionally kaka ponga, the hard part of the trunk of tree ferns, was utilised for the purpose. Stone points were also occasionally used, as greenstone (nephrite), and a few green-
moa bird were also used from which to fashion fishing implements. The remarkably neat workmanship of old hooks is a pleasing feature. The Maori did strive to do neat work, and succeeded. His fine cordage and rolled twine employed in connection with fishing gear is a marvel of neatness and regularity as to size.
Wooden fish hooks of large size were used, as those employed for catching sharks and other large and powerful fish. Wood for such hooks needed to be strong and tough. In order to secure pieces of wood having the necessary curve, it was a native practice to bend a pliant growing young plant of a suitable species and secure it in that position. In a few years it would be thick enough to serve as a hook, and, moreover, would have acquired rigidity in its tortured position. It would then be cut and utilised. The Bay of Plenty natives tell us of a marine growth, a form of plant called totara moana, that grows at a considerable depth. Its branches are soft and pliable when brought up from the depths, and pieces were then bent into the desired form for hooks. On becoming dry they were extremely hard and of great strength. Capt. Cook remarked of Maori fish hooks that they were so oddly formed that a stranger would be at a loss to know how they could answer the purpose. However, the Maori knew perfectly well what he was about.
A large wooden hook measured is almost circular in form, its greatest width across being 7½inches. The opening between the barb and the butt of the shank opposite it is so small that one marvels how one could secure any creature with it. The point has apparently been fashioned from a whale's tooth, and it is worked into three barbs, one of which is longer than the other two. This point is nearly three inches in length. A projection at the base of the shank is carved into the form of a human head.
Fish hooks received in some cases special names, more particularly when fitted with a barb fashioned from a bone of a tribal enemy, a common native practice.
The lack of barb to the points of some old hooks has been commented on, but cannot be accepted as a proof of insufficient knowledge on the part of the makers. The tough wood
tauhinu (Pomaderris) was often used in the manufacture of hooks, as also were the tough stems of Lygodium articulatum (mangemange), and those of a species of
Though our fish hooks were eagerly accepted at first, yet the natives came to look upon them with disfavour, preferring to manufacture their own from nails and pieces of iron and copper obtained from Europeans. Ellis tells us of an extraordinary misconception on the part of the natives of Tahiti when they first obtained metal in the form of nails. They mistook them for a vegetable product, a hard form of wood, and so planted some in their gardens “and awaited their growth with the highest anticipations.” This is about equal to the old story of the Maori folk throwing away flour, thinking it was nought but ashes.
The Maori was a deft fashioner of hooks from bone. He traced the form of the desired hook on the material, and then, with his thong drill, bored a series of holes along the lines. The finishing process was carried out by means of using stone rasps.
Spears were used in taking flounders and eels, but the Maori possessed not the dexterity of his Polynesian cousins in spearing sea fish.
Hook used for catching albatross were much more open than most other forms, and their wooden shanks were often elaborately carved.
The taking of freshwater fish was another important activity of Maori life, more especially among tribes possessing no seaboard. The most important of the river fish to the Maori was the eel, which, in some districts, formed no small part of the food supply of the people. This was the case in certain places where great numbers of eels were taken in lagoons, swamps or lakes, and in districts through which flowed rivers much favoured by eels, such rivers as the Whanganui. There is a great difference in rivers as to their being haunts of the eel. Some rivers evidently do not suit them, inasmuch as few eels are found in them. Again certain high-lying districts have a very scanty supply of eels. None have ever been taken in the high-lying lakes of Taupo and Waikare-moana; possibly the waters are too cold for them. In such districts the natives turned their attention to the smaller fish—kokopu, inanga, etc. Very few eels were ever taken in the Rua-tahuna district, on the headwaters of the Whakatane river.
The eel of New Zealand is no insignificant creature of a pound or two in weight. They attain a great size, though those taken in eel pots are not the larger specimens. The largest ever taken by the writer weighed 19½lbs., but very much larger ones have occasionally been taken. There are several species of eels in these isles, and apparently a number of sub-species or varieties.
The Maori did not take eels by means of hook and line, but by means of eel pots, the bob, the spear, and occasionally by netting, and also by hand. Of these methods the eel pot was the most important one. These traps were set either at an eel weir or in open water. When set at a weir the mouth of the pot faced up stream in order to take the eels as they passed down stream to the ocean in the autumn. When set in the open stream they were set with the entrance down stream to take eels as they passed up stream. Eel pots for use in lakes and large rivers of sluggish current were generally of the waharua type, that is, they had an entrance at each end.
Two forms of eel weir were employed by the natives. One of these was of a zigzag form, and usually extended across the stream or river. This is the pa tauremu, and it was a farspread usage. In the swift Whanganui river, which brings down much driftwood, the above style of weir was unsuitable, hence a very different form of weir is there used. It consists of a perfectly straight fence erected at a slight angle to the stream.
The term pa tuna denotes an eel weir (pa=an obstruction tuna=eel). They are often called pa rauwiri, because the fences are rauwiri or wattled ones. The pa auroa is a straight fence weir. The ordinary form of weir is constructed in the form of V, with the foot of the letter left open. The narrow outlet, the base of the V, is down stream. According to the width of the stream there would be one or more of these double fences. These guiding fences are called paihau, pakau and pakipaki. When four fences are erected we have tuki. The wide upstream opening is the waha, while the narrow outlet is the remu, tou, ngutu, rae or maene. In the spaces between the fences, from the waha down to the remu, a bed or matting of manuka brush is pegged down on the bed of the stream to prevent scouring. This is the whakareinga, whakatakapau, or whakatahuna. It usually extends a little way downstream from the narrow outlet. To take eels by means of a net at these weirs is described by the term whakaheke.
The stakes used as posts in the fences are called matia; they are driven down into the bed of the river with a heavy wooden beetle termed a ta. Weirs had special names assigned to them. In some cases each aperture had its own name. Occasionally the permanent main posts of a weir had a carved design, such as a grotesque head, or their upper parts. Some had a narrow footway made of poles running along the top of the fence, or possibly a rope secured to the down stream side of the fence, the latter for the convenience of those who came in canoes to attend to the eel pots. Interference with a weir was a serious offence.
The two posts at the ngutu or outlet of the weir are braced with stout poles placed as struts on the downstream side. In
ngutu of the weir a funnel-shaped net, called a purangi, poha, and rohe, is secured. The large end is distended by means of a hoop and is secured to the posts of the narrow outlet. The small lower end of this guiding net was inserted in the entrance of the eel pot.
Eels are proverbially slippery gentry to deal with, and no matter how many weirs might be built across a river, or how carefully they might be constructed, yet there would be no lack of eels further down stream. Hence an old saying of the Maori is the following: “Ko Tangaroa ara rau” (Tangaroa of the many ways).
A South Island native tells us that, in taking eels in streams flowing into Lake Waihora, the eel pots were set so as to catch the eels coming down stream during summer and autumn. Later in the year they were set with the entrance down stream so as to take the eels as they went up stream. Occasionally the eel pot was discarded at weirs, and nets were substituted.
The use of a material mauri has already been explained, and it was a Maori custom to deposit such a talisman, usually a stone, at an important eel weir, to ensure good luck. The Whanganui natives sometimes refer to this talisman as an iho, because it is the very heart or essential part of the weir; success depends upon it. As in the case of birds, it kept a prized food supply from deserting tribal areas.
The straight type of eel weir used in the Whanganui river is always constructed at the head of a rapid, and the two or three lines of fence have to be of exceptional strength to stand against the rushing floods of that river. These are set at slightly different angles to the current, and when eels descending the river in autumn encounter one of these fences they pass down it to be entrapped in the eel pot at its down stream end. At the foot of the weir is an offset post (pou tihoi). To this and the post at the lower end of the weir the hoop of the guiding net is secured. The heavy longitudinal logs used to give stability and weight to the fences are a marked peculiarity of the weirs of this river. The upper one is called the raumatangi, while the term ngakau is applied to the lower
tuna heke, when they are passing down stream to the sea in the autumn. This species, though exceedingly numerous, is not taken with bait. When the freshets of autumn appear they come down stream in great numbers, travelling principally at night, apparently, certainly nearer the surface at night. The natives can tell us nought of these migrating eels returning from the ocean, but in spring the eel fry ascend the river in multitudes. There is a field of research awaiting some enthusiast in the study of the eels of these isles.
In the manufacture of fish traps we see some of the very neatest work performed by the Maori, that is in old specimens, for his handiwork has deteriorated of late generations. The form of eel pot having an entrance at each end is a waharua. Hinaki whakatikotiko, korotete and puwai are all names for a corf. Punga, pohea, pongenge and purohu are other names for eel pots. Hinaki pitau are small forms used in taking small fish, such as whitebait. The funnel-shaped entrance of an eel pot is called the akura, puarero, toine, tohe and rea; surely it has enough names. The small net often fastened to the inner end of it to prevent eels escaping is the toherere, naha, or rohe. The other end of the pot is the tau or kotore; the loop handle is taupopoia. The name of pu toke denotes a small wickerwork bait pot resembling somewhat a diminutive eel pot. Bait, often worms (toke) is placed in this receptacle, which is closed with a cover, and placed inside the pot. Bait is sometimes enclosed in a small bag made of Phormium (flax) and styled a torehe. In some cases the bait is simply tied inside the pot. No bait is used in pots set at a weir.
Many different materials were employed in the manufacture of these fish traps. Of these the best is the slim stem of the mangemange ( Lygodium articulatum), a climbing plant. This, however, grows only in the north. Another favoured material is represented by the aerial roots of the
The inner end of the entrance funnel is sometimes small, the ends of the material projecting inward being sharp pointed, to prevent eels escaping. In other cases the little net fabric referred to above was used instead; either baffled the eel desiring to escape. The catch was taken from the pot through a small trap-door at the rear end, or side of the pot. Occasionally it was made in the entrance funnel. The slight wands of manuka used in making eel pots are called tari in the Bay of Plenty. The roots of flax (Phormium) were sometimes used as lacing or binding material for the longitudinal pieces, as also were stems of aka pohue, a species of convolvulus. In some pots the longitudinal pieces of manuka or other material are arranged in a diagonal (whakawiri) manner. In others they are laid straight (torotika).
Smaller hinaki, or pots, of a similar form, were employed in taking the lamprey, and the double entrance pots used in lakes were also small, some 2ft. or 30in. in length, whereas some of the large pots used at weirs are as much as 5ft. in length, or even more. Diminutive forms were used in former times for taking inanga and other small species of fish. In making these pots the task is commenced at the small inner end of the funnel-like entrance. When this funnel is long enough a strong hoop is introduced over which the material is bent and the work then proceeds in the other direction, so as to enclose the akura or funnel.
A very small but well-made pot of this hinaki form was found under many feet of peat in a swamp. It is ten inches in length and is made of small stems of Lygodium carefully split down the middle. It has six longitudinal strips to the inch, and these are laced together every ⅝ of an inch. Some of the traps for small fish were made of a species of rush, probably Cladium Vauthiera, called wiwi-tane. The finest and neatest specimens are old ones found buried in swamps; modern specimens cannot be compared with them. One dredged from the bed of the Ohinemuri River by the Paeroa
Lygodium twisted into a kind of rope. The slender longitudinal pieces are split stems of the same climbing plant, and are from 1-12th to 1-16th of an inch in diameter, split precisely and carefully in half. The space between these strips is but 1-16th of an inch, and the crosstie lacings are only ¼ of an inch apart. Truly is this trap a marvel of neat workmanship.
The Waikato natives use a large form of eel pot called by them a hinaki tarino for setting in the Waikato river, which is too deep for weirs. They are set with the mouth down stream, anchored with a stone, and have a cord attached to them, the other end of which is taken inshore and secured to a stake or snag under water, lest it be seen by prowling eel thieves. These folk use a double entrance eel pot about 2ft. in length, a much smaller form, for setting in their lagoons and shallow lakes. The bait of earthworms is tied to pieces of korari, the flower stalk of Phormium, and slipped inside the pot. This tied-up form of bait is called tahoa; the pots are hinaki tukutuku. Many of these are set in a lagoon, secured to long poles of manuka forced into the bed of the lagoon in a straight line. Each pole has a few leafy branches left on its upper end that projects above the water, so that they may be seen by the pot tenders, who proceed along the line of poles in a canoe every hour or two during the night, to lift, empty and reset the pots. The eels caught in these lagoons are small species. Birds were sometimes used as bait in eel pots. Bait so used as an attracting agent is called poa, while bait for a hook is styled mounu. Occasionally a temporary form of eel pot was made of the broad green leaves of the Phormium tenax plant, called flax by settlers. These leaves were plaited so as to form a hollow cylinder about 6ft. in length, and this was distended by hoops of supplejack, a climbing plant. Outside this fabric were secured four longitudinal rods to serve as braces. These were
Eels are taken on dark nights of the moon; they do not like moonlight nights apparently. The Waikato folk tell me that the best nights for taking eels are the 4th, 5th, and from the 23rd to the 30th nights of the moon. They were taken in daytime by two methods called wero tuna and rapu tuna. The first of these methods consisted of spearing, a practice that was also followed at night by torchlight under the name of rama tuna (rama=a torch, hence “to catch by torchlight”). The latter method was simply taking by hand, groping for eels in the mud.
The Maori eel pot and fish trap of hinaki form, with retracted funnel entrance, reappears in far-off Borneo, where a number of parallels of Maori artifacts, designs, etc., are encountered.
The term tawhiti awaawa is applied by the Whanganui natives to an eel weir, thus comparing it to a rat trap, as seen in an old tribal saying: “Ka mawhiti tawhiti awaawa, ka iko tawhiti karawa.” The one secures its prey as surely as does the other.
The advent of eel fry or eel fare was looked for in some istricts where the small creatures appeared in such numbers as to provide a considerable supply of food. They are termed porohe among some tribes, and are taken at waterfalls, where they avoid the rushing waters and wriggle up the wet slopes on either side. Bunches of bracken are deposited at suitable aces in which the young eels seek a resting place. These inches are then removed and shaken over a receptacle of some kind. In former times they were dried and packed in closely-oven baskets for future use.
Eel spears or grains were made by lashing together a number of sharp-pointed tines of hardwood, in some cases katote, the hard, black part of trunks of tree ferns. The aft was a short one. This implement is called a matarau d marau. It has been replaced by a steel fish hook lashed
Bobbing for eels was much practised, and is still followed in some parts. As a rule the bait was of earthworms, which were threaded on twine formed of Phormium fibre, and then tied in a bunch. This is the tui toke, herehere tuna, or tari. It was secured at one end of a cord, the other end of which was tied to a short rod called a katira, matira, pato and ngatire, etc. A club used for killing eels is a ripi or patu tuna. A hole dug in the earth to put one's catch in is a parua. A platform from which to fish is a puhara.
Some eel fishers used a round basket-like net called a whakarino to place the catch in, a deep receptacle secured to a hoop, to which was lashed a stout rod. This rod was thrust into the bank of the stream so that about half the receptacle was in the water; the eels were placed in this net bag when caught.
The huhu grub was sometimes used for a bob. Spiders are said to be the best bait for eels, but these have to be enclosed in a small netted bag of Phormium fibre. Eels do not approve of the dark-coloured earthworms; they are fastidious in such matters. Charms were repeated by eel fishers.
In one name for the fishing rod, matire, we find a far-travelled word that appears in several variant forms. In far-off Nukuoro Isle, south of the Caroline Group, matire is the name of the bamboo.
Eels were occasionally taken in a net trap called a korapa on the east coast. It resembles the kape net or basket-like form used by the Tuhoe folk in taking the fish called kokopu, of which more anon. The eel was caught in a form of scoop net secured to a handle. On the apparatus being lifted the eel slipped down into a form of bag net called the ngake, with which the scoop net communicated. It is as well to mention here that, if the nose of an eel fisher itches, it is a sign of good luck at hand. Also it is an evil omen to see a large eel in the daytime.
Eels were sometimes taken by the koumu method. This was practised at places like Waihora and Wairarapa, where a
kohau, entered the channels and captured the eels. Eels would not attempt to cross dry sand, but we know how they will cross grass land at night to reach other waters.
An old tradition has it that eels were introduced into New Zealand by those ancestors who came hither in the vessel named Takitumu. This is, however, a point that the writer will not press. At the same time eels were sometimes introduced into ponds, lagoons, etc., by the Maori. Thus eels of the haumate and matamoe species (?varieties) were occasionally liberated in the roto hawai (half swamp, half lagoon) that formerly existed at Miramar, Wellington.
Should students of Maori myth wish to know the origin of eels let them consult the following table:— Here be names well known in Maori myth. Puanga was the origin of sharks, while Karihi produced the frost fish, barracouta, conger eel and freshwater eels. Q. E. D.
The first eel caught at a new weir is offered to the gods. The first eels caught by a young person of the Matatua tribes were cooked at a fire called the ahi parapara, and a kind of ceremonial feast followed, in which women were not allowed to join.
Eels were dried for future use at a fire called ahi rara tuna, being laid on a framework of green rods over the fire. They were then hung up on a stage called a tirewa in the South Island. The kope method of cooking eels is to wrap
kopaki method is to twine long leaves of Phormium round them in a spiral manner, and then cook them in a steam oven. An old saying is: “Kopaki tuhera, tu ana Tamaika” (When a kopaki of eels is opened Tamaika will be there). This Tamaika was an ancestor extremely partial to eels, and always put in an appearance when neighbours were about to indulge in a meal of that delicacy.
A South Island native has stated that the lamprey moves up the rivers in four different migrations each year. The lamprey is not now seen in the numbers that it formerly was, but weirs are still erected by natives in the Whanganui river for taking them. This weir is quite different from that for taking eels. The latter is erected in the middle of the river and nearly parallel with the current, to take eels coming down stream. The lamprey is taken when migrating up stream, when it keeps close to the banks, avoiding the swifter current in mid-stream. Hence the utu piharau, or lamprey weir, is constructed near the bank and runs out at right angles thereto for 30 ft., in some cases further. Inasmuch as the weir is broadside on to the rush of flood waters it is necessary to make it of great strength.
Now the difficulty of taking the lamprey in a hinaki or pot set at a weir while they are travelling up stream is that it is not convenient to set the trap-pot with its entrance down stream. Hence the Maori employed a device by means of which it could be set with entrance up stream and yet take the lampreys as they moved up stream. (See illustration on opposite page.)
Let A.B. represent the weir fence, closely wattled save at the apertures of which C. represents one. The water rushes through this opening with much force. D.D. represent two firmly set posts inserted on the down stream side of the opening, one on either side of it. To these is secured the funnel shaped net E., the lower and narrow end of which is inserted in the mouth of the trap-pot F. Now as the lampreys come up stream and encounter the closely wattled wall of the weir they move along it to seek a space to pass through. Thus they come to one of the openings through which they attempt
kawau moe roa has done its work. John Maori comes along, empties
the contents of the pot into a circular wickerwork corf, and resets the pot.
Lampreys were sometimes taken by a device akin to the taruke and tau already mentioned. It was a mass of closely laid bracken that was secured to the bed of the river, and in which lampreys took shelter. The Whanganui natives term this the whakarau method. It is also known as whakapua. Into this mat of fern the lampreys crept, presumably for a
So strong is the pressure of the water against a lamprey weir that it is braced or stayed on both sides. The favoured mode is to construct the weir in the dry months when the river is low, so that it can be erected on a part of the river bed that is then dry, but which is covered by the flowing waters as soon as the autumnal rains come. Green timber of white manuka (kopuka) is usually preferred. On the down stream side of the firmly driven posts are lashed two stout sapling rails (huahua), one about 18 inches above the ground, the other 3ft. above the lower one. To the upper rail the upper bracing struts are lashed. Those on the down stream side are called noko; the holding braces on the up stream side are the kumekume; the up stream ends of the latter are secured to stout pegs driven into the river bed to secure the mat or brush laid down to prevent scour, and termed the whariki or whakareinga. There are two series of struts of the lower side, the series lashed to the upper rail, and a shorter series secured to the lower rail.
These notes were taken when watching a native constructing an utu on the Whanganui river. Doubtless my numerous questions rendered me somewhat of a nuisance, but when a couple of cakes of tobacco were handed over they gave great satisfaction. This weir was 35ft. in length, and had five ngutu or open spaces for the water to pass through, and where nets (poha) and traps were set on the down stream side. The posts (pou) were five feet above ground, and the one at the outer end is termed the kaiau. The brush wattled fabric supported by the posts and covering all spaces between the openings is pawai. The brush scour mat extended 25ft. up stream from the weir and 6ft. below it. Several series of poles were laid across the mat and pinned down by means of stakes driven X-wise into the river bed. These containing poles are styled karapi and the holding down stakes were lashed together at their junction. All lashings were of green split supplejack (karewao—Rhipogonum scandens).
Ere I left this native hamlet the first of the autumn rains came one evening. The next day I went to see how the weir fared, but found six feet of flood water rolling over that shingle bed; the weir was entirely submerged.
Meeting some folk from this hamlet in town later in the season I enquired as to the catch at the lamprey weir, and was informed that the catch had been a small one. The reason given for the poor result was that no mauri (talisman) had been located at the weir.
We have now a few other methods to scan, as employed in taking certain small species of freshwater fish. Of these the kokopu (Galaxias), inanga (Retropinna), upokororo (Prototroctes) or grayling, and the panoko were the most important. The small flounder found in the interior was never plentiful, but the various larger species frequenting the mouths of rivers formed an important food supply.
The kokopu was formerly viewed as an important food supply by inland tribes whose streams provided but few eels. This fish is taken at night by means of nets, but it was also taken by bobbing. The Tuhoe folk use an oval hoop net for taking this fish, and also the kape described above. The former is called a kupenga titoko; it was used in conjunction with a torch. Wading carefully up stream the fish are seen with head up stream and tail waving. The oval hoop net is lowered gently until close to the fish, then a foot is advanced to touch the fish gently on the offside; it darts in the opposite direction to avoid the unknown enemy, and so enters the hoop net, which is quickly raised above the water. The fish is then transferred to a fish basket called tauremu and papāwai that is slung round the waist. Natives recognise about half a dozen varieties of this fish. They are taken during the dark nights of the moon in summer and autumn. The natives say that they do not sleep soundly on moonlight nights and are then difficult to take. Fishers of kokopu were guided entirely by the phases of the moon, and so went forth only on certain nights. If the first fish seen by a person escapes the fact is viewed as a puhore, that is as a token of ill success. If caught it was not retained but thrown aside on shore to perish, pre-
Kokopu over a foot in length are sometimes taken. It is not a fish of fine flavour.
The upokororo, or grayling, has almost disappeared from our rivers for some unknown reason. East coast natives recognise three varieties of it—the tirango, kutikuti and rehe. It was caught in traps when ascending rivers. One method of taking it is known as tuki, in which walls of stones were carried out from both banks of a stream, and an open space left in mid-stream just wide enough to accommodate the hoop net used. The fishers proceeded up stream, entered it, and drove the fish down into the net. Another mode of taking them was by means of an umu or koumu, a channel excavated from the stream into a sand spit or shingle bank. A pakau (wing) or wall of stones run out into the stream caused the water to flow into the ditch, so that there would be a sufficient depth of water therein. The fish were driven down stream as before. Each fish driver had in his hand a raupoto, a bundle of brush or fern fronds, with which he threshed the water to scare the fish. Having entered the umu they were held there by a person at its outer end, the others busying themselves in displacing the piled up stones that dammed the waters of the stream. Ere long the receding waters left the excavated channel dry, and the fish became an easy prey. Yet another method was to take these fish in nets toward the latter end of a flood, when the water was still muddy. They were also taken at weirs. It is an extremely shy fish. Up to about the year 1874 the grayling was wont to ascend the Waikato river in multitudes, and was there taken in large nets. It would take a fly, but not any form of bait used for eels.
The inanga, or whitebait, is a much appreciated fish. Though small, it can be taken in considerable quantities by net. They were sometimes taken in an oval hoop net, sometimes in a small conical scoop net fastened to a rod for a handle, and sometimes in a pouraka. In late times natives have taken to using scrim for nets used in taking this fish. They say that the fish ascends the rivers each year in three different migrations. The third of these movements occurs when the star Takero appears in the east. These fish were often dried for future use. In Maori myth they are connected
kaka on the west coast.
When the first catch of inanga of the season was made, some were set aside as offerings to the gods, and the balance was consumed in a ceremonial feast, being cooked in five different ovens for as many different castes of the people. As usual, charms were recited by those engaged in taking the fish.
The panoko has a number of native names, but its European name is superior to all; it is Cheimarrichthys Forsteri. And yet the fish survives! They are often taken in pots set for eels, and pots were sometimes set specially to take them; this was at the tararua or V-shaped weirs. They are caught up to eight or nine inches in length, and will take bait in the evening, but not after dark. They move in the same “jerky” manner that the toitoi does. This latter is a diminutive creature also known as titarakura, and several other names. It was taken by net, also in bunches of fern, the taruke. Its scientific name is Gobiomorphus gobioides.
Another of these small river fish is the tikihemi, which is sharp-nosed, flat-sided, scaly and about five inches in length. It has a blue stripe on its sides and is often taken with whitebait; it has a peculiar odour. It goes down to the sea about March and comes up the rivers with the whitebait. Its scientific name is unknown to the writer. The tarare, para, reretawa and papauma are probably varieties of Galaxias. Other dubious names have been collected.
Flounders were speared and also taken by net. South Island natives recognise four forms of this fish—the mohoao, raututu, whaiwhai and patotara. Shrimps were taken in a form of basket net called kete pahao and kete tihao.
Effect of forest life on barbaric man—Origin of trees in Maori myth—The Maori and the forest—Trees and man sprang from a common progenitor—Sex in trees—Origin of birds—Guardians of plant life—New Zealand originally one great forest—Vegetable growth personified—Mythical denizens of the forest—Tapu of forest—Punaweko represents forest birds and Hurumanu sea birds—Rehua connected with forest—Tapu birds—Birds exceedingly numerous—Mauri of forest protects its life principle, and retains birds—Birds attracted to a forest by magic—How birds were taken—The pigeon—Game laws—Polack lulls the pigeon to sleep!—The Maori could not catch birds, quoth Wilkes, U.S.N.!—The whare mata—Tapu pertains to important pursuits—Bird snaring—Expert tree climbers are food for roots!—The taumatua, tutu, and kaihua trees—Snares set at drinking places—Charms repeated by fowlers—Water troughs for snaring—Bird spearing—Human bones and gridirons in request—Loose feathers cause birds to leave forest—The tautawhi ceremony—The bush parrot—Women and parrots—Modes of taking parrots—Decoy birds—The mutu—The tui or parson bird—Birds taken by hand on frosty nights—The tui taught to speak Maori—Small birds, how taken—The parrakeet—The korapa trap—The ground parrot and its singular habits—Dogs trained to catch birds—The woodhen a kleptomaniac—The kiwi hunted with dogs—The hawk connected with fire—The mutton bird—How Rua-kapanga captured the giant moa—Use of call leaf by fowlers—Tree climbing—How birds were preserved—The ahi matiti—Ceremonial return of fowlers from forest—The tuneful clamour of the Māra o Tane—The native rat—Rat trapping—Pit traps—Trappers under tapu—Peculiar restrictions—The rat as a swimmer—The passing of Punaweko.
We have now to consider the Maori in connection with the forest and its products. As in the case of all peoples of inferior culture, a long sojourn in wooded lands has produced a considerable effect on the mentality of the Maori folk. This fact is, of course, most easily discernible in the folk lore and mythology of the people, which have already come within
It will be well to commence our enquiry by seeking the origin of forests, and this quest leads us back to the origin of man and many other forms of life, inasmuch as all sprang from Tane the Fertiliser. Tane, the personified form of the sun, it was who fertilised the Earth Mother, and so produced the ira tangata, mortal man, in the form of the first woman, and also all vegetation. That vegetation represents the clothing of the Earth Mother, by means of which her nakedness was covered. In like manner Hine-kapua, the Cloud Maid, daughter of Tane, and the Cloud Children, covered the nakedness of Rangi, the Sky Parent.
The expression Te wao tapu nui a Tane is applied to the forest; it is the tapu realm of the Fertiliser. Hence the oldtime Maori looked upon it, and upon trees in general, with different eyes from ours. When the Maori entered a forest he felt that he was among his own kindred, for had not trees and man a common origin, both being the offspring of Tane. Hence he was among his own folk as it were, and that forest possessed a tapu life principle even as man does. Thus, when the Maori wished to fell a tree wherefrom to fashion a canoe or house timbers, for two reasons he was compelled to perform a placatory rite ere he could slay one of the offspring of Tane. He saw in the majestic trees living creatures of an elder branch of the great family; he felt the strange, old-world influences that spring from a belief in animatism; he heard the voices of unseen beings in the rustling of branches, in whispering winds, in the sound of rushing waters. These children of fancy had a marked effect on his mentality; their offspring are seen in the quaint creations of his mythopoetic mind.
As the parent of trees Tane is known as Tane-mahuta. As the origin of birds he is Tane-mataahi. Each of his twelve names has its special signification.
Tane is often spoken of as though he were the origin of all life, but in some accounts some forms of life, insects, etc.,
When Tane first produced the forest he placed therein a male and female of all species of trees, shrubs and plants. He then waited for them to produce their kind, but waited in vain; they produced blossoms only, or seeds and berries were infertile. Then Tupai said to Tane: “The fertility of the forest is at fault; you must seek Te Rara-taunga-rere.” This name seems to represent the fertility of the vegetable kingdom, apparently a personified form of that quality. His care is the fertility of all forms of seeds. Tane acted on the advice of Tupai, and then all was well; the forest became fruitful.
In another of these old myths we see that Tane took to wife one Parauri, who produced the bell-bird, the crow, and the parson-bird. These birds were fed on various substances, but did not thrive thereon, hence they were fed on the products of the heads of their relatives, of Miro, and Maire, and Mako, and others. (These are names of trees the berries of which are eaten by birds). Now they throve, and Tane set about the recital of a formula by means of which the fertility and productiveness of trees should be rendered permanent. Then Tane breathed on the forest, and behold! its fertility and healthfulness were assured. Thus the offspring of Tane, and Parauri, and Punaweko (i.e., birds) acquired a permanent food supply. Then Tane appointed Parauri, and Punaweko, and Tiwhaia as guardians of the birds of the forest. The superior guardians appointed by command of Io the Supreme One to protect the fertility and welfare of forests, all plant life, as also birds, fish, insects, and other things, were Tane-te-hokahoka, Tangai-waho, and Rongo-marae-roa.
We have already seen how it was that Tane came to produce trees. In his search for the female element by means of which man was to be generated, he cohabited with many supernormal beings, who produced various species of trees. Thus it was that trees appeared and plant life took possession of the body of Papa, the Earth Mother.
The Maori is persistent in stating that trees are endowed with sex, and, in a few cases, he has applied different names to the two sexes.
Native tradition asserts that, when the Maori first arrived on these shores, the whole country was covered with forest save some sterile places and mountain peaks. Certainly remains of forests have been noted in many areas where no such growth has been seen by Europeans, in some places buried beneath volcanic deposits. hine-rau-wharangi, daughter of Tane, who personifies growth in the vegetable world, has assuredly performed her duties well in these isles, hence the tropical aspect of our forests that teem with many species of ferns and epiphytes, and where the nikau palm grows almost within sight of great glaciers.
As is usual with a barbaric folk dwelling in a land of forests, the Maori peopled those forests with many mythical creatures—fairies, wood elves, and monsters. Also he tells us of another folk he calls Tini o Te Hākuturi (The multitude of the Hakuturi), and this name denotes the many species of forest birds, creatures that enter into many myths and folk tales of our native people. You will remember how the Hakuturi folk re-erected the tree felled by Rata because he had not placated the forest deities ere felling it. Also you are doubtless aware that the long fronds of the mamaku tree fern acquired a drooping habit on account of those Hakuturi folk resting on them, and that the rata tree grows in a leaning manner because the huge moa trampled on it in the days of long ago.
We can now see that it is meet that a modicum of tapu should ever pertain to the forest, for trees are kin to man; both sprang from a single source, Tane the Fertiliser. The forest was specially tapu during the fowling season, and great care was displayed in former times to prevent that tapu condition being polluted. Thus persons engaged in snaring birds might not carry any cooked food into or about the forest. When encamped in the forest they might cook birds or other food at that camp, but would have to eat such food in camp, and not carry it about. To cook food out in the forest, away from the camp, would be a taiki, a belittling of the gods. The forest would be tamaoatia or polluted, its tapu desecrated, and many evils would result. All luck would desert the fowlers, and indeed the birds would desert the forest and migrate to
This explanation of the tapu of a forest will also assist the reader to understand the peculiar institution and ceremony termed uruuru whenua that has already been alluded to.
It has been noted that several other beings besides Tane are connected with birds, for Punaweko represents all forest birds and Hurumanu all sea birds, while one Tane-i-te hokahoka represents the harrier and sparrow hawk. These mythical beings seem to be personifications rather than originating beings. In the Whanganui district Tane-i-te-rere represents birds, Tane-i-te-wao represents forests, and Tane-i-te-whaka-piripiri represents houses, the materials for which are collected in various places and assembled and put together, hence whakapiri. Rehua is alluded to as the origin of the parson bird, but then rehua or lehua seems to have been an old Polynesian word for “forest,” and Rehua seems to have represented forests or trees. Birds are said to have eaten the parasites of the head of Rehua; such parasites, we are told, were the berries of trees.
Huru-te-arangi and Raka-maomao, who represent wind, are connected with all tapu birds. We have noted the fact that certain birds employed in rites were viewed as being tapu. The huia and kotuku (heron) are sometimes alluded to as tapu birds, as also the amokura, or tropic-bird, presumably because their plumes were highly prized. The Maori has also preserved the names of several birds of his former home in the Pacific that were prized for their plumes, such as the kura-a-rangi, koreke-rangi, and taputu-rangi. The manu teko of Whanganui folk lore is a tapu bird, apparently mythical, that, if killed, could not be eaten without great danger, unless a certain placatory rite was performed ere it was cooked. Otherwise the offender would be carried off by strange forest denizens to the wild region of Mt. Ruapehu, there to perish miserably.
Certain superstitions were connected with some real birds also. To see an albino parson bird (tui) was deemed a most
Many statements have been recorded as to the great numbers of birds formerly existing in our forests. Cook and other early writers speak of the melody of countless bell birds and tui (parson birds) as heard by them. Early settlers have spoken of the clamour of sound caused by innumerable birds in the early morning in former years. That clamorous morning concert is termed the māra o Tane, a very peculiar expression. Of this concert Banks wrote: “They seemed to strain their throats with emulation, and made, perhaps, the most melodious wild music I have ever heard, almost imitating small bells, but with the most tunable silver sound imaginable.”
The melodious clamour of the māra o Tane is no longer heard in our forests when Tane himself appears in the reddened east, and the forest of Tane itself has largely disappeared, torn from the breast of Papa the Earth Mother by an intrusive and utilitarian people.
Inasmuch as the forest was under strict tapu during the fowling season, and also on account of animistic beliefs already explained, it follows that all forests were provided with a material mauri, a talisman that retained the powers of the gods holding sway over the forest. This object was often a stone. I remember the forest mauri of Maunga-pohatu as a waterworn stone resembling an elongated dumbbell in form. In the Waiapu district is a small hill named Taupanui, on which stood a mapau tree. This was the mauri of the district, and we are told that the hill resembles a bird in form. This place is said to have been frequently visited by flocks of birds. The native belief evidently is that birds recognise such a mauri, and so frequent the vicinity. Ceremonies were performed on that hill, and offerings of branchlets were deposited on it.
If it was seen that birds were becoming scarce in a forest, then it was known that something was wrong with the talismanic mauri; it had gone to sleep. Then an expert would proceed to awaken it by reciting certain charms over it, and so
mauri of the forest; it serves as a shrine for the protective gods, as a medium between the ceremonial and the gods, and as a token of mana. It protects the fertility and productiveness of the forest. It retains and attracts the birds of the forest.
Any forest or part of a forest famed for its abundance of fruit-bearing trees resorted to by birds is termed a whenua pua, a fruitful land. Such places were famous and far known in olden times; hence such sayings as: “Te Weraiti umu tahu noa.” This saying pertains to a place at Rua-tahuna famed for the abundance of birds that frequented it in former times. At that place the ovens might be found full at any time, so abundant were food supplies. On the east coast was no more famous a place than Te Pua a Te Roku, in the Waiapu district. There stood the well-known rakau taeke or snaring tree known as Te Ikikaha, a toromiro tree that kept ten men busy in setting and attending to snares on its many far-flung branches.
Experts would attract birds to a forest by means of a ceremony called tiepa, which included the recitation of a potent charm. The term tiepa, means “to conciliate,” as also does whakaepa. If birds were heard leaving the forest, the sound of the flocks of birds heard at night or dawn, then it was known that some person of another district had been performing the tiepa. Then an expert would go forth and call upon Tane to stay the exodus of the birds, in the words: “Tane-e! Puritia! Tawhia!” (O Tane! Hold them! Restrain them!)
We will now see how the Maori fowler practised his arts in the forest of Tane, how he snared, speared and trapped Punaweko in lofty trees and along the forest brooks, and we will commence our task by scanning the methods of taking the large wood pigeon (Hemiphaga Novœ Zealandiœ).
The season for taking pigeons began in late autumn. Prior to that time adepts would scan the food producing trees to note the food supply upon which depended the numbers of birds that would frequent the forest. Not but what birds were also taken at other times; for example, the pigeon, when feed-
tawa tree about December, also the kaka parrot and the tui when feeding on the nectar (wai kaihua) of rata blossoms about Christmas. In not a few cases the fruiting of a special tree was accepted as a sign of the fruitfulness of a forest. A famed pine tree in the Makauri bush, near Gisborne, was always closely examined. If the greater part of its fruit appeared on its seaward side the fact betokened a good season for fishermen, but a poor one for the fowler. If fruiting conditions were reversed, then fowlers would be fortunate and fishermen the reverse.
If the parents of our fowler were members of different communities he would be allowed to take game on lands in which each parent was interested, so long as he had resided with both communities and had been recognised by both as a fellow clansman. Any trespass by an unauthorised person for the purpose of taking game was strongly resented. Many such trespassers have been slain. Special permission was necessary in such cases.
We will commence our account of taking the pigeon by a statement as to how it was not done. Polack, an industrious but somewhat erratic writer of the early part of last century, tells us with great gravity that the pigeon was attracted by means of a call leaf until it was quite close to the fowler. The fowler then lulled it to sleep by means of similar sounds, which caused the docile bird to nestle its head under its wing, when it was “easily killed by a pointed stick of hardwood being thrown at it!” Truly one yearns to ask a few questions anent this marvellous procedure. Another highly intelligent visitor, Commander Wilkes, U.S.N., came to the conclusion that the Maori had no way of taking birds prior to the introduction of firearms!
The widely-used and ordinary methods of taking the pigeon were snaring and spearing. Now all the various arts of the fowler are said to pertain to the whare mata, or whare takaha, as it is termed on the east coast. This is said to be a house or hut in which were made and stored all forms of implements employed in taking birds, but it had come to be used in an emblematical manner as denoting the arts and implements of the fowler. We have seen that the term whare tapere was
There was a certain amount of tapu pertaining to the making of snares and other implements, more especially among inland, forest dwelling natives, who relied so much on the forest for their food supplies. Men prepared these implements in the whare mata or at some place to which women were not admitted. Snares for pigeons and most other birds were fashioned from strips of leaves of Cordyline australis, the fibre of which is stronger and also more durable than that of
These snares were fastened to a cord so that they were set close together. These cords were taken to the snaring places and secured to branches in the tree tops and at the outer ends of the branches. They were stretched taut and secured to two branches, or to rods lashed to branches, so that the row of snares was horizontal. The cord to which the snares are secured by one end, leaving the slip noose free, is the taiki or tahuhu. The snares may be so arranged as to be parallel and close to a fairly straight branch, or a perch (rongohua) may be lashed to branches and the snares so arranged near and just above it as to catch birds on the perch. The first bird taken was utilised as an offering to the gods. As such it
tapu off the forest, and so enable women to enter it and take part in the various operations. Snares were examined at least once a day, more often when the birds were numerous, the snared birds removed, and snares reset. Women sometimes engaged in this task, being assigned such trees as were easily ascended. Hence the many trees rejoicing in such names as Piki-wahine and Kake-wahine, which names denote that they were climbed by women.
The pae, paerangi, or rongohua (perching rods) had to be put far out on the branches of a tree at or near where the berries of the tree were. They were sometimes tied to short rods called turuturu lashed to the branches. The distance between the perch rod and the lower end of the suspended snares was regulated by the first two joints of the middle finger. Leaves of the narrow leaf variety of Cordyline australis, called
This clambering out on the branches of a tree, maybe eighty feet from the ground in the case of white pine trees, was passing dangerous, hence the old fowler's aphorism: “He toa piki rakau he kai na te pakiaka” (A tree-climbing expert is food for roots). In some cases a man would take up a rope or hooked pole and use it to render safe a dubious branch by connecting it with a stronger one above it. These men were intrepid tree climbers.
A tree on which birds were taken by means of snares was called taumatua. One on which they were taken by the mutu, or snaring perch, was styled a tutu; while a tree on which birds were speared was termed a kaihua. The old saying:
He toka hapuku ki te moana, he kaihua ki uta” (a cod rock (bank) at sea, a kaihua on land) implies that both are prolific sources of food supplies.
The miro and white pine were the most important of taumatua or snaring trees, but snares were set to a minor extent on matai, rimu, white maire, and some others, including the small species rohutu, fuchsia, Coprosma and poporo (Solanum). Snares were also sometimes set on trees that produced no bird food, because birds settled on them if they grew above other and food producing trees. Snares were not set for pigeons on the rata (Metrosideros) because that bird is not a honey eater, but the parson bird and brown parrot are taken on that tree. Snares were fixed on Cordyline trees for taking the pigeon. When pigeons take to eating leaves of the kowhai they become thin and distasteful; on the berries of the miro (Podocarpus ferrugineus) they wax fat.
On the east coast the term karoro-uri is applied to a pigeon with dark-coloured plumage, while one with light-coloured plumage is karoro-tea. Occasionally one is seen of a peculiar speckled appearance; these are karoro-tangi-arau.
Another method of taking the pigeon is one often styled waituhi, and this denotes the setting of snares at water. The berries of the miro are the favourite food of the pigeon, but the eating of them causes the bird to seek the nearest water to drink thereat. Hence the Maori fowler set many snares at brooks near such trees. His plan was to cover the surface of the rivulet with fronds of tree ferns, etc., but to leave certain clear spaces whereat the thirsty birds might drink. Around those spaces he set his snares so closely that a bird could not put its head down to the water without putting it into a noose. A rod laid down in a horizontal position as an alighting place for the birds enabled the fowler to set his snares evenly.
Trespass on such snaring places by outsiders during the season was looked upon as bad form, to put it mildly. Should a man, in wandering through the forest, chance upon such a place set with snares, he would just break off a branch and leave it in a conspicuous place, and pass on. In olden days great numbers of birds were taken at such snaring places, waituhi and wai taeke. The first of these terms is applied by
wai poka taringa by east coast natives, who also style a snaring tree a rakau taeke. A rakau tipapa is a tree on which birds frequently settle in numbers. Tipapa kereru denotes a flock of pigeons. The Whanganui natives apply the term wai tumu to a stream or pool at which snares are set, but at Waikato tumu denotes a snare perch for taking the kaka parrot, and waituhi a water trough set with snares for taking pigeons.
A charm called tauhinu was repeated by fowlers in the Waiapu district when about to take the birds from a set of snares. They would leave camp at dawn to make the first visit to the snares. Old fowlers have told me that, when attending to snares at a creek, they have occasionally had pigeons settle on their shoulders. This bird was one of the least shy in the days when the shot gun was little used, or not at all.
Now the Maori not only set snares at creeks and pools as described; he also took the water to the birds, to their feeding places on the hills. He hewed out wooden troughs about four to six feet in length and eight or nine inches wide. These were put in suitable places, filled with water, and then snares were arranged on both sides, so that a bird alighting on the edge of the trough in order to drink could not do so without putting its head in a snare. The troughs were placed up on trees, or on a couple of posts set up by the fowler. Occasionally a trough or hole was hewn in a big root or a log and filled with water. These snare-set troughs are called waka kereru, and are for taking pigeons, though occasionally other birds would be caught on them. In pre-European times bark troughs were much used.
This trough method was not employed in all districts, but was practised at Waikato, Taupo and the Bay of Plenty. Occasionally these troughs were adorned with carved designs, as scrolls, or perchance grotesque heads. In some cases they had special names assigned them, and famed snaring trees were always so named. Charms were repeated by the fowlers in order to provoke thirst in the birds, so that they would be
whaunu.
The pigeon was often taken by means of a spear called tao manu, taoroa, tao kaihua, here, tahere, tari and rawhi; a short form was called maiere by the Tuhoe folk. Some of these spears were thirty feet in length. Its butt end is called the hoehoe; the matahere is the end to which the barbed point (tara, makoi) is fixed. The longer spears were used when taking birds on the larger trees, usually the pigeon. These implements often rejoiced in the possession of special names. The barbed points were fashioned from hardwood such as mapara, whale's bone, human bone, and, very rarely, of greenstone (nephrite). Temporary ones were sometimes fashioned from katote, the hard part of the trunk of a tree fern. The natives of the Wellington district are said by the late Colonel Heaphy to have fitted these spears with points easily detachable, but secured to the shaft by means of a short lanyard. When a bird was impaled its struggles caused the point to come off, but it fell merely the length of the lanyard. This was an uncommon usage. The points were generally lashed on to the shaft with a two strand form of lashing called taimanga. A vegetable gum was smeared over the lashing to preserve it.
When a point of human bone was used, and a bird, when speared, made a great commotion, it was known that the man who provided the spear point had been but a poor fellow possessing no courage. When traders were located on the coast of the Bay of Plenty many years ago natives eagerly bought gridirons from them, and fashioned from their bars fine points for their bird spears. Bones of the albatross were occasionally used as points.
In many places spears were fashioned from the wood of the white tawa. A straight-grained trunk would be split into several pieces, from each of which pieces a spear shaft might be formed. The work of fashioning and dressing the shaft was a tedious process. They were very slender and, when used, had to be rested on a branch. The spear was pushed forward slowly until the point was near the bird, when a sudden thrust impaled it. These spears were often suspended
miro trees, which they frequented in great numbers when the fruit was ripe. Occasionally they were speared on other trees. The kaka parrot was speared on the rata (when feeding on the wai kaihua or nectar in its blossoms), kowhai and tawari, on other trees they were taken by the mutu method.
Fowlers concealed their catches, putting the birds into a hole and covering them with brush, lest the living birds see their dead kin and so become shy, or perchance desert the forest. Again, feathers were never left lying about the forest, but always buried; even stray feathers seen about snaring trees, streams, etc., were carefully collected and concealed. Young folk were trained not to scatter feathers about. All this on account of a belief that birds would leave the district if they saw such feathers. This also is the reason why no person might carry cooked food in the forest; it would defile the talismanic mauri and tapu, and banish the birds. If visitors to a village during the snaring season are given uncooked birds to take home, they must, ere leaving, return one of those birds to the village people as a tautāwhi, that is as a something to retain the birds of the adjacent forest. The person who receives the one bird repeats over it the words: “Puritia a uta, puritia a tai, puritia a Tane.” This act and charm will have the desired effect.
Men engaged in spearing and trapping birds up among the branches of trees were wont to construct platforms wherefrom to manipulate the spear and the mutu perches, of which more anon. Occasionally the timbers of such platforms showed some carved designs.
East coast natives state that pigeons and the kaka parrot were sometimes seen by fishermen out at sea flying landward. The parrots flew high, but the pigeons sometimes settled on fishing canoes, being apparently exhausted. If these reports be correct the birds must have been taking a jaunt seaward. Quien sabe?
To a small extent the pigeon was taken by means of the mutu or single snare perch. Among the Ngati-Kuia folk bird snarers never ate any pigeons during the day so long as the snaring season lasted, but only after the shades of night had fallen.
The kākā, a large bush parrot (Nestor meridionalis) was another bird prized by the Maori, for it also was taken in great numbers. This bird is alluded to as the offspring of Tumātāika. The kaka frequented their feeding grounds (whakarua) in flocks, and each flock is said by natives to have been under the control of a leader, called the tarariki. They are not seen in such numbers nowadays. Occasionally one is seen of unusually bright plumage. These are termed kaka kura. Albinos, rarely seen, are known as tuauru and kaka korako. The male bird is called tataapopo by Tuhoe. The Waiapu natives seem to apply the name of tarariki to the female bird, while the male bird is styled tamaire. This one has the longer beak of the two. A flock of pigeons is a tipapa kereru, a flock of parson birds (koko) is a wiri koko, a flock of ducks (parera) a kawai parera, and a flock of whiteheads (tataeto) a tatataeto. These are names employed by the Tuhoe folk.
The Maori claims to have sometimes found reddish stones in the crops of the kaka, and these stones are called o manapou and o kaka. Other dark-coloured stones, called manatawa, are sometimes found with them, and natives have evolved the belief that these are stones of berries eaten by the bird in some far land from which they have flown to these shores. Some queer beliefs are connected with birds. This parrot nests in hollow trees. Such nesting holes are termed puta kaka and hapoki kaka. Young birds found in these nests were taken for food. If the hole was a deep one an implement called a whakawiri was employed, consisting of a number of loops of Phormium or Cordyline leaf secured to the end of a long stick. This was thrust down the hollow trunk to the nest and twisted round, thus entangling the young birds, which were then pulled up by the fowler. These parrots nest in the same tree year after year, and, when the young are taken for food purposes, it is highly necessary that the ashes of the fire at which they are cooked be taken to the tree and cast into the nest.
Bird names often appear in the innumerable proverbial sayings, aphorisms, etc., of the people, as shown in the following examples:—
“
He wahine ki te kainga, he kākā ki te ngahere.” (A woman in the home, a parrot in the forest.) These are the two noisest creatures, says the Maori; both are ever chattering.“
He pakura ki te po, he kākā ki te ngahere.” (A swamp hen at night, a parrot in the forest.) Both mark the passing hours by occasional cries.“
He kākā kai uta, he mangā kai te moana.” (A parrot on land, a barracouta at sea.) They are equally voracious.“
He tutu kākā kai uta, he toka koura ki te moana.” (A parrot snaring tree on land, a crayfish rock at sea.) Both provide much food.
The following seems to show that birds feasting on their favourite food are easily taken:—
“
He manu kai kakano e mau, tena he manu kai rakau e kore e mau.” (A berry-eating bird may be caught, but not so a wood (or leaf) eating bird.)
The tamed parrots (kaka) were occasionally taught to speak a few words, but the koko was the species generally utilised for such training.
Now snares were never set for the kaka. Should one be caught in a snare set for other birds then it was assuredly a bad thing for the snare, for the bird soon freed itself with its powerful wood-rending beak. This bird was taken by four methods—the mutu, pae, wero and, occasionally, hopu, or catching by hand. The first of these is a snaring perch, the bird being caught by the legs, and killed as soon as caught. The second method was one of luring, the third was spearing. The catching by hand was done at drinking places at creeks, and also when the birds were moulting and very fat, when they were found seeking food on the ground. When approached, they could not take flight from the ground, but would walk to a tree and clamber up it; at such a time they were easily taken. In this condition they are called kēkētoi. At creeks frequented by the bird a pole was arranged as a
taki) placed against it in a slanting position, with its lower end in the water. The birds alighted on the pae, or perch, and walked down the slanting pole to the water. Near its base was the fowler concealed in a booth formed of brush or fronds of tree ferns, who caught the birds as they walked past him. All birds were killed by means of biting the head. At this contrivance the birds were also taken by means of the hauhau, or striking method, struck down with a sharp blow from a short rod in the hands of the fowler. No decoy was needed at this watering place, but the same method of striking was adopted away from the water, in which case a decoy bird was needed to attract the birds. The apparatus is often termed pou kaka.
The parrots used as decoys were called mokai and maimoa, as meaning captives, but as decoys were styled tiori, timori and mouti. When a fowler had no decoy bird he would so utilise the first parrot he caught, and such a temporary decoy was styled a tionga, tirore or pakipaki. The fowler would probably secure the bird to a branch or rod over his head, if working in a tree top. To prevent the parrot severing the cord with its beak he would brutally break the beak. The treatment of decoy birds by natives has sometimes led the writer to make incisive remarks that were certainly resented. These temporary decoys that had been placed over the fowler's head as he squatted on his ærial platform, were not taken home with the day's catch; they had been over his tapu head. Neither was the sadly crippled bird killed, but left in the woods to perish miserably. Be it known that the above names were applied to decoy parrots only; decoy birds of smaller species were styled puarere and maimoa. Decoy parrots were often given a bone to gnaw at. While doing so they made sounds that attracted other birds. When used on the earth the decoy would scratch in the leaves and rubbish for food and make the same sounds.
These decoy birds that were kept permanently were secured to perches in the village. A wooden trough was erected, supported on two posts, and rods called hoka were stuck in holes in the side of the trough. The bird had a small ring called a moria, poria, takaore or komore put on one of its legs, and a
hoka. Thus the bird could walk along the horizontal rod, its food being placed in the trough, which, in some cases, had a small roof over it. Occasionally a bird's food was put in a small netted bag called a rohe or torehe, and the captive plucked it out through the meshes. The leg ring was fashioned from human bone (that of a slain enemy), or other bone, sometimes from the midrib of the leaf of Cordyline indivisa, and occasionally from greenstone.
The implement termed a mutu by the Tuhoe folk, peke at Waiapu, tuke at Whanganui, and tumu at Waikato, illustrates a peculiar and interesting mode of taking the parrot we are dealing with. Smaller implements of the kind were occasionally employed in taking the pigeon and parson bird (tui, koko). Some of these mutu had grotesque heads carved on them, and a prized one was sometimes given a special name. The mutu may be called a portable snaring perch; the illustration shows its form. This small implement is lashed to a light
ti-haere and tia-haere; the latter is hooked on to a short pole called a hiwi, pouaka, or turu that is lashed to the branches of a tree top. This pole projects outside the ends of the branches, so that the actual perch (mutu) serves as a convenient alighting place for the parrots that come to feed on the berries of the tree.
The hiwi, or permanently lashed poles to support the snaring apparatus, are secured at many different angles. Thus those at the top of the tree head are vertical; those at the side, level with the ærial platform (papanui) of the operator are horizontal; the intermediate ones are secured at various angles. The vertical ones are called pou tauru. Occasionally a sound, dry branch was used as a support, and this was styled a hiwi ariki.
Now the mutu were so made that the perch projections were at different angles to the shank, so that, at whatever angle the hiwi was secured, a suitable perch was at hand to use on it for the perch itself must be in a horizontal position. Each form of snaring perch (mutu) has its distinctive name, as kira, porae, huanui, a, kapu and hao. The first-named is a peculiar form used on the horizontal poles (hiwi). Those having the perch at right angles to the shank were used on the vertical supporting poles.
We will now accompany our neolithic fowler up an extremely unsafe looking ladder, and observe his mode of procedure on his ærial perch forty to eighty feet from the much safer earth. He is about to commence to work the tutu tree for the season. He takes up his rods, mutu, snare loops and cords, and prepares for action. His first task is to lash his selection of snare perches on to the rods (tia haere, called kokirikiri in some parts), for one man would attend to a number of snares. He then proceeds to whakatohe them, that is to arrange the snares on the perches, so that the loop hangs down on either side of the perch as shown in the diagram. At the toretore, or outer end of the perch, a piece of vine, or a quill. is passed through a small hole, bent down along the perch, and there tied. This is the ngingita, and under it, on both sides, the snare loop is forced, so that it will not easily become disarranged. The snare is connected with a long cord that
rata tree when it is in blossom, the rarangi tahi season, a blossom of the tree would be tied to the outer end of the perch to attract the birds.
A short piece of wood, the pekapeka, is lashed to the shank of the perch for purposes of suspension. Having set the snare the fowler grasps the rod and thrusts it outward, or upward, and hooks the pekapeka crotch over a notch or fork in the end of the hiwi, or supporting pole, and the apparatus is ready for business. The long cord was led to the platform. When all his snares were set, the fowler would proceed to irritate his decoy parrot to make it noisy, or give it a bone to gnaw at, which would have a similar effect. When a bird settled on one of the perches, the fowler grasped the cord of the snare and gave it a quick, sharp tug. This pulled the snare from under the ngingita, caught the bird by the legs and jammed them against the upper part of the shank of the mutu. The offspring of Tu-mataika was now in parlous plight, and its shrieks would serve to attract more parrots to the tree. The fowler kept the strain on the cord, unshipped the rod to which the snaring perch was attached, and took it down. He grasped the bird, killed it with a crunch of his strong teeth, crushing its head, and deposited it on the platform or threw it to the ground. When parrots were numerous, and hungry, a fowler was often kept extremely busy. If several birds settled on perches simultaneously, he would pull each snare, catch the birds, and stand on the cords to keep the strain on the snare, so preventing escape as he dealt with them one by one.
No decoys were employed in taking the pigeon and parson bird, for they would be useless. Certain slight differences are noted in these bird-taking implements, as in different districts, also names of implements often differ.
The parson bird (koko, tui. Prosthemadera novœ zealandiœ) was taken by means of the snare, spear, pewa, striking, and whakamoe methods. Occasionally a small-sized mutu perch was used, which the pewa much resembles. The snaring method (tahei) and spearing methods have already been described. The striking method resembles that by which
(pepe) and struck off the perch (pae) with a rod (hauhau). When taking birds in this way the partially concealed fowler holds his striking rod against the end of the perch near his leafy shelter booth. When a bird settles on the perch he strikes it off the perch by means of running his rod quickly along it with a downward motion, the perch acting as a guide. Whichever way the bird is facing the rod will strike it off the perch. These perches were erected near trees frequented by the birds and also at streams where they went to drink. The apparatus is called a pae koko.
The apparatus called a pewa resembles a mutu, as seen in the illustration, but was made of rough pieces of wood with the bark on, and no hiwi was used with it; it was simply hooked on to a branch. It was manipulated as a mutu was, and blossoms of tawhiwhi, a Metrosideros, were tied to the outer end of the perch to attract the bird, which is a honey eater.
The whakamoe method of taking this bird was a peculiar one, for it was practised during the night. The roosting places of the birds were located, and the way to them marked by laying down a series of light-coloured leaves, as those of the rangiora, and the fronds of the silver tree fern, thus making a trail that could easily be followed. Another method was the ara pawhati, marking the way by breaking branches. Two men would set forth on a frosty night, one bearing a torch. On arriving at the roosting place one man held the torch while the other ascended the trees and simply took the birds by hand. At such a time they are said to be so cold that they are helpless; if any fall to the ground they are caught, being unable to fly.
The above method is termed rutu in some parts of the east coast, where we are told that it was often sufficient to strike with a sharp blow the branch that a bird was sitting on, whereupon the bird fell off and was taken by the torch bearer below.
The tui was taken on many trees, small and big, including the poporo shrub (a Solanum). Berries were sometimes fastened to the snaring perch to attract it. The tui is fond of the berries of the miro, white pine, white maire, mahoe, mako,
parapara and
A peculiar form of snaring perch was used in the Waiapu district, possibly elsewhere, for taking the tui. The bell bird and saddle-back were also taken by it. It was used when the birds were feeding on the berries of the poporo shrub. A small branch that divided into two pliant branchlets was
obtained. These two diverging branchlets were tied together, as shown, so as to form a more or less true oval. This appliance was lashed to the branches of a shrub in a horizontal position. At 1 a loop of cord, termed the tohe, was tied to the upper branchlet. The snare loop was arranged on either side of the upper branchlet, which served as a perch. The cord to which the loop was attached passed through the tohe and extended to the booth of the fowler. At the end of the perch some berries of the shrub were tied to attract the birds. When a bird settled on the perch the fowler pulled the cord sharply
tohe.
A fowler would have several of these contrivances set on the poporo shrub, and the cord of each led to his leafy booth. To the end of each cord was secured a short rod pointed at one end, and termed a makamaka. When a bird was caught on one of the perches the fowler kept the cord taut and stuck the makamaka firmly in the earth. The cord (kaha) being taut, the bird could not escape. By such means did the fowler avoid the necessity of going to take each bird as he caught it. When he had caught several he would proceed to take them and reset the snares.
Cook and his companions called the tui the poe bird, because its white “choker,” a bunch of white feathers on the throat, was thought to resemble pearls (poe) worn by Tahitians as pendants. Our early settlers called it the parson bird.
The Tuhoe people call the male tui bird kopurehe, and the female bird kouwha, from the time of the flowering of the fuchsia tree until the time that the hinau tree is in fruit. During the balance of the year the male is called kokouri and the female bird kokotea. In the Waiapu district the male bird seems to be called tataki. The local saying: “Nga koko tataki o Te Akatea” seems to imply noisiness, and is quoted in reference to talkative persons, who are compared with the noisy birds of Te Akatea (a place name). Some of these birds make themselves very busy in driving away other birds that intrude on their feeding grounds (hapua koko), and such quarrelsome birds are styled manu tute.
The Maori states that this bird becomes excessively fat when certain food supplies are plentiful, and that, at such times, it pecks its own body as a relief, to let some of the spare fat exude. The writer must decline to vouch for the truth of this statement.
Inasmuch as the tui is a small bird, fowlers were wont to reckon two birds as one. As birds were counted in braces, a brace of this species consisted of four birds. On suitable trees of large species snares were set in hundreds for this bird. When feeding on berries of the kohe ( Dysoxylum spectabile), they get very fat, hence a saying applied to a fat person:
This bird was taught to talk by the Maori in former times, and the writer has, long years agone, heard captive parson birds discoursing in Maori, and inviting passers-by to stay and be entertained. We are told by the natives that the male bird only makes a good talker. In order that the bird should be enabled to speak distinctly it was necessary to trim the hairlike appendages of the tongue, an act described by the term tohi. Some preferred to take a young bird from a nest situated near running water. Others state that the young captive was kept near a noisy run of water while being taught to speak, so that no other sounds might interfere with its acquisition of human speech. This teaching was a slow process. The owner would every day repeat over and over again the set of words he was teaching the bird.
Cages for these captive birds were usually fashioned from slight, straight rods of manuka, and the birds were generally named. They sometimes became so tame that they would be given their liberty, and the man who could stand forth on the plaza during a reception of visitors with his talking bird perched on his shoulder crying a welcome to those visitors, was envied by all. W. B., that well-known writer on the Maori. tells us that natives artificially enlarged the glottis of the captive in order to improve its delivery of the orations taught it. The Tuhoe folk kept the cage covered with a mat while the bird was being trained. The following is a part of one of the speeches taught to these captive birds: “Haere mai! Haere mai! E te manuhiri tuarangi. Kaore he kai o te kainga. Kai tawhiti te kai. Moi! Moi! Moi! E! Haere mai! Ehe! Ehe!” This discourse cries a welcome to visitors, but also informs them that there is no food in the village.
When a person makes false statements a bystander may remark: “Tapahia to arero penei me to te koko” (Cut your tongue as that of a koko is cut).
The kakariki or parrakeet is personified in one Hineporete. This bird was formerly numerous, appearing in flocks about the outskirts of a forest principally. They were taken in numbers by three methods—the koputa, tānga, or striking, and the puaka trap.
The koputa was a noosing method. The fowler constructed a rude booth of branches or tree fern fronds, leaving one side thereof open. Several perches for the birds were erected within the shed, but near the wall, and a few rods stuck in the earth near them in a vertical position. To these pegs were secured the first few birds taken to act as decoys. The fowler first attracts a flock of the birds by waving in the air a rod to the end of which are secured a few fern fronds, and by imitating their cry, which he does without the aid of a call leaf. The parrakeets are of a curious turn of mind, and enter the booth to see what is doing, where they alight upon the perches. The fowler is squatting behind the frail booth with a number of short rods by his side, each of which has a slip noose attached to one end. He takes up one of these, passes it through the frail wall, slips the noose over the head of the porete (another name for the parrakeet), gives it a tug, and secures the bird. This process is repeated with the other prepared nooses. When all have been used he resets them, i.e., arranges the nooses.
The striking method resembles that used for the tui. Two rods are inserted in the earth in a vertical position, and another lashed to them in a horizontal position, to serve as a perch. Below the perch is sometimes stretched a cord between the two uprights. To this cord the decoy birds (maimoa porete) are fastened, a substitute for the rods above mentioned. They struggle constantly to free themselves, their movements attracting other birds. When birds settle on the perch they always look downward at the struggling decoys, when they are struck down with a rod as in the case of the tui.
The puaka trap was really a noosing method. An oblong enclosure several feet in length was made, having several small entrance places at the groundline. In each of these spaces a loop snare was set, while some bait would be placed inside the enclosure. The bird would be caught in the snare
pihere, or robin, was also taken in this contrivance. Prior to its being constructed food for the birds was placed on the spot for a few days to accustom them to coming to the place.
The diminutive pihipihi, or blight bird, is still taken by the striking method first described. Though each bird is but a mouthful, yet they are taken in great numbers, or were a few years ago, in the Tuhoe district, and preserved for future use.
Another mode of taking the robin was by means of a korapa, a flat, net-like apparatus. A piece of supplejack was bent into a semicircular form, when a rod was lashed to the two ends, forming a U with the top closed. Strips of flax were interlaced across this frame to form a trap. This apparatus was placed on the ground in a vertical position, the straight side downward, and it was fastened down with pegs. A long cord was secured by one end to its upper part, and the cord passed through a small hoop of supplejack inserted in the ground a little way in front of the trap. The cord was led to the place of concealment of the fowler. Some bait is placed on the ground near the trap. In his booth the fowler keeps striking a block of wood with a club. This attracts the robins, who soon discern the bait and commence to eat it, when the fowler pulls the cord and the korapa falls on the birds. As he advances to secure his catch the fowler has merely to keep the cord taut. Birds of several small species were taken by means of this device. Turning up the earth was a sure way to attract the robin. Omens were derived from the cry of the robin in former days.
The huia is said to have been taken by means of a slip noose on the end of a stick, the fowler calling them by imitating the cry of the bird. The woodhen was taken by means of the same simple contrivance, and also by means of the tupaki, or spring snare.
To take the duck cords were stretched across rivers and also in lagoons and shoal lakes, so that they were a little distance above the water. These were tied to stakes inserted in the bed of the river or lagoon, and from them depended a
The owl was scarcely sought as a food supply, but I have seen children cook and eat them. In some districts the
female of this species is called peho and the male bird koukou, or popoia. To take this bird a leaf or branchlet was twirled to attract its attention, while a noose on the end of a stick was slipped over its head. The bat (pekapeka) was eaten by natives, who, when taking them, would block up the apertures in the hollow tree in which they pass the day, and then stupefy them with smoke. The young of the cormorant were
The native quail (koreke), formerly numerous in some parts, was taken by means of arranging a number of snares across its runs. A cord was stretched across the run and fastened to a peg on either side, and from this depended a number of nooses placed close together, or overlapping each other. A rod was sometimes secured in a horizontal position to the pegs instead of a cord.
The kakapo, or ground parrot (Stringops habroptilus) is a bird that was formerly numerous in certain parts of the North Island, from which it disappeared shortly before the settlement of the country by Europeans. Thus natives tell us that it was formerly numerous on the Aorangi range and its outlying ridges east of Lake Wairarapa, where, indeed, its remains are now found in caves, also on the Tararua range, on the upper Whanganui, and in the Tuhoe and Taranaki districts. It is thought by some that a few still exist in the forests of the Kaimanawa range, apparently their last resort in the North Island. They have held their own better in the South Island. These birds, being flightless, were sometimes taken by means of the native dog, as also were ducks in the moulting season. The kakapo is a night feeder. Dr. Haast tells us that, in the South Island, the bird was taken in the daytime in the holes and burrows in which it lived by means of the whakawiri, already described in connection with the kaka parrot.
Natives in several districts have told us that this bird moved abroad in flocks or “families,” and, when feeding at night, always posted a sentry. If this sentinel was caught first the rest of the flock would be easily taken. Dogs employed in hunting the bird had a wooden rattle secured to their necks so that the hunter might be able to follow them. These rattles were known as rore, kakara, and tatara.
The Tuhoe natives have told me that each flock of these nocturnal ground parrots had its own feeding range and camping ground (whawharua). At this common camp each bird is said to have had its own burrow (pokorua), in which it
tiaka, said to be always a small bird. After dark, sayeth the Maori, the birds came forth from their burrows, assembled at a certain part of the whawharua, and went through a singular performance, beating their undeveloped or atrophied wings on the ground, making holes in the earth with their beaks, and emitting strange, hoarse sounds. During this performance the tiaka kept walking round the flock as though guarding it. These birds sought their food during the night, and, ere morn arrived, the leader led the flock back to the common camping ground.
The Tuhoe folk state that these birds collected berries of the hinau and tawa trees, also fern roots, and placed them in pools of water to preserve them for use in the lean season of the year. The natives used to skin these birds and fashion the skins into capes or cloaks. They were usually caught while performing their “dance,” and in some cases the fowler lured them by imitating the cry of the bird. Of the truth of these statements the writer can offer no proof, having never even seen the bird in its native forests, but he does draw the line at a statement made by Taranaki natives to the effect that the sentinel bird hung by its beak to a tree branch, and, when danger threatened, uttered a warning cry. Surely that bird must have possessed a few extra beaks!
The curiosity and pugnacity of the weka, or woodhen, another flightless bird, rendered it an easy prey. A lure call was sometimes resorted to by the fowler. A small bird of any species is also a good lure, for the woodhen will rush forward to assail it, and can be noosed or struck down with a rod. Many different devices attract this species. When the birds are feeding on fallen berries, such as those of the hinau, an enclosure of sticks was made at the place, several openings being left in it. In each opening a tawhiti, or spring trap, was set, and some berries scattered about the enclosure to serve as a lure. Reckless as this bird is, it has, presumably, some sense, hence the old saying: “Ka motu te mahanga i te weka e kore a muri e hokia” (A weka escaped from a snare will never return).
The weka is a confirmed kleptomaniac, his moral character is the frailest kind of reed. Like the modern anarchist, he has an utter contempt for law, order, and the ordinary decencies of life. Some claim for him a Milesian ancestry. His pugnacity must have a vent. With regard to his genius for attracting other folks'property I mind me of one of my oldtime camps whereat the loss of many small articles led to exasperation, until one fair day, when, approaching the camp, I observed a pernicious weka making off from the mess tent with my last dish cloth. I did not argue the matter at the moment, but followed the thief to his lair in a hollow log, wherein were deposited the many spoons, dishcloths, empty tins and other jewellery annexed by that depraved bird during its career of crime.
The kiwi is yet another flightless bird of nocturnal habits, and one that furnished a good meal. They were hunted with dogs'at night, the method being known as whakangau kiwi. The expression whakangangahu seems to denote the luring of the bird by means of imitating its cry. The Tuhoe folk render the cry of the male bird as “Hoire!” and that of the female as “Poai!”
The dogs used were fitted with the rattles mentioned above, which were fashioned from hardwood such as mapara. A fowler who had no dog is said to have used his torch to dazzle the bird's sight, or confuse it, when it came to his call. Charms were used by these fowlers when seeking the kiwi in its haunts. Northern natives say that a dog was held in leash until fairly close to the bird, and then released; that the torch (rama and rohe) was always carried by kiwi hunters; also that an expert would select the night on which the hunters were to go forth, and that they would have to fast during the day, or no birds would be taken. When the first kiwi was caught a fire would be kindled, the heart of the bird was then taken out, a charm was repeated over it, and it was roasted, after which the performer held it out in his hand toward the east, and recited a certain charm that is beyond the power of mortal man to translate.
The kiwi lays its large eggs in holes and burrows, often under the roots of beech trees. Natives have a quaint belief
The bell bird and whitehead were taken when feeding on berries of the Coprosma and other trees. When food supplies are scarce the bell bird can be lured by means of a call leaf. It was taken by snare, spear and the puaka trap. The crow (kokako) was not appreciated as a food supply, though some were snared occasionally when other birds were being taken. Its blue wattles are termed werewere. The kotuku, or white heron, was captured for the sake of its plumes, as also was the huia and sometimes the cuckoo. In Maori belief there is a singular connection between the cuckoo and the lizard, and this migratory bird is said to bury itself in the earth during the winter, that is during its absence in warmer climes. Natives ate the excrement of the cuckoo.
Natives call the shining cuckoo wharauroa, the fartravelled one, so that they must have recognised its migratory habits. Probably it was recognised as an old acquaintance when the Maori first arrived on these shores.
The hawk was trapped by the Maori for the sake of its feathers, which were utilised for a number of purposes. They were taken in snare traps called titara kahu, tahiti kahu, tarahanga and tarahaha. In Maori myth the hawk is connected with Mahuika, the mother of the Fire Children, hence the colour of its plumage. Albino specimens of this bird (kahu korako) were rare, hence the term was used to denote an important chief. An old saying is: “Always travel with a white hawk,” for then you will assuredly be regaled on good fare.
The stitch bird (tihe), the saddle-back (tieke) and other small species of birds were taken as opportunity occured. The titi, or mutton bird, was taken in great numbers, not only on the coast and offshore islets, but also inland. They were preserved for future use in various forms of vessels, in seaweed (kelp) vessels, called poha, in the South Island. Inland they were often taken at night on the summits of cliffs and ridges whereon a long net was arranged in a vertical position. Fires
ahi titi. The introduction of the European rat put a stop to the inland breeding of the bird.
With regard to that great extinct bird, the moa, it is evident that it has long disappeared from the world of life, for the Maori has preserved but few traditions concerning it. Its remains have been found in connection with ovens in many places, and it appears probable that the first settlers of this land, the Mouriuri folk, were largely responsible for its extermination. It was, however, still found in the North Island when the first Polynesian settlers arrived here, for east coast natives have preserved a clear account of their ancestors' first meeting with the huge bird. This occurred inland of moa. After several failures he succeeded in trapping one of them, and the moa is still alluded to by natives as “the great bird of Rua-kapanga.” The Bay of Plenty natives state that their ancestors exterminated the moa, and that the last one in the district frequented the base of Mt. Edgecumbe, where a man named Apa had a startling adventure with it, for it kicked him down a hill and broke his leg. Its name is preserved in place names and a few sayings, such as: “He mihiau te kohatu i taona ai te moa” (The moa was cooked by means of the mihiau stone); also, “Lost even as the moa is lost.”
Apparently the moa survived in the South Island long after it was extinct in the North, and it seems to have been called poua in the former place.
In using the call leaf, leaves of certain species were utilised, of which one was the pāpā ( Geniostoma ligustrifolium), and another the
Birds were counted in braces, and the peculiar term whakamoe denotes such counting, as in: “Tena, whakamoetia iho te manu nei” (Now then, count the birds).
The Maori was an expert tree climber, but appears to have never employed portable ladders in tree climbing. Fowlers often ascended lofty trees by means of a single pole lashed to the trunk in a vertical position. These poles were secured by means of passing ties of supplejack or other vines round the trunk of the tree. A series of poles was so secured until the branches of the tree were reached. In some cases a rude form of ladder was made from a nearby tree that enabled fowlers to ascend the one they proposed to operate on. A long pole with a crotch or hook at the end, and called a rou, was employed for this purpose. It was hooked on to a branch and then supplemented by one or two other similar poles. In ascending the single pole ladder the climber obtained a foothold on the lashings of aka or vines. In some cases two poles were used.
The tapeke mode of tree climbing was by means of a foot loop (toeke, tāmāeke, and tāpārenga), and also a cord passing round the trunk, the climber holding an end thereof in either hand. As he ascended, he kept jerking this hand cord up the trunk. A short form of rou, or hooked pole, was sometimes used by a fowler when engaged in setting snares on the outer ends of branches. He would hook it on to a branch higher up and use it as a life line. Sometimes a tree climber wrapped a form of pad round the upper part of the body to protect his breast; it was called a papauma.
The Maori seems to have sometimes employed a ladder with rungs or steps (pae, kaupae), but apparently it consisted of crosspieces secured to a single pole. Cook mentions seeing such a ladder. The Whanganui natives, however, used what they term a mekameka in ascending the cliffs so common on that river. It was composed of two stout aka (stems of climbing plants), having crosspieces secured to both. The one pole
ara tauteka, the steps being known as teka. Crosspieces lashed to a tree to serve as steps in ascending it is yet another device employed in former times, and called tutira. Arawhata and arahanga denote a ladder or bridge.
We have one more task to perform in connection with the birds gained with our snares, spear, traps and “striker,” and that is to preserve them for future use. Great numbers were so preserved each year.
A certain number of birds was set aside for the purpose of a ceremonial feast, and the balance was preserved. This task commenced about the beginning of the Maori year, which was the principal fowling season, hence the old saying: “Ka puta a Matariki, kua maoka te hinu,” meaning that when the Pleiades appear then bird preserving commences.
The first process was the plucking of the birds, an act often performed by women and children. When the cooking of the birds commenced for the purpose of preserving them, then the living birds began to leave the forest; the odour of their cooking brethren reached the feeding grounds and alarmed them, hence they migrated in search of safer quarters. Such was the Maori belief.
The cooking and potting of birds was performed at the fowler's camp in the forest on the east coast, and the fire at which the birds were cooked was termed the ahi matiti by the Matatua tribes. The next process to plucking was that known as makiri, which consisted of taking the bones out of the birds ere they were cooked. This was done by women, who were extremely deft at the task. Small species of birds were not so boned. The boned birds were packed in baskets, called poutaka when used for this purpose, and the baskets were placed under water until the cooking commenced.
Meanwhile men were erecting the matiti or racks on which the birds were suspended for cooking. Stout rods having a number of crotches on one side at regular distances were thrust into the earth in a vertical position. A number of slight rods were provided on which the birds were spitted side by side. The first rod so fitted was slipped into the lower crotches of the upright poles. The next rod was slipped into the second
matiti was full. Meanwhile a fire, the ahi matiti, had been kindled before the rack, and so the birds were cooked. Under the lowermost row of birds was placed a wooden trough into which the melted fat of the birds dripped. This trough was not quite level, and under its lower end, sunk in the earth, was placed a bowl into which the fat ran. This fat was then boiled or brought to a heated condition by means of hot stones, the kohua, or huahua, process. The cooked birds were packed in gourd, wooden or kelp vessels and the hot fat was poured into the vessel until the birds were covered. Food so preserved is called huahua; if birds, huahua manu; if rats, huahua kiore. Game so preserved is a very favourite delicacy of the Maori.
Experts would repeat charms while this cooking was being carried out, so as to ensure success and a good flow of fat, the act of doing so was termed whaunu.
When the potting was completed the calabash vessels were provided with their fittings. Two hoops were placed round each vessel, and these often confined a wide strip of plaited fabric like matting, that closely enwrapped the vessel. To these hoops were attached three, or four, legs, often carved, and bunches of feathers were secured to the upper parts of these legs, feathers of the same species of birds as those contained by the vessel. A carved wooden mouthpiece (tuki) was added when these vessels were used to grace a feast.
The return of our fowling party to the home village, bearing the preserved products of the forest, was essentially a ceremonial function. The fowlers carried the vessels of the preserved birds on their backs, and, as they proceeded, sang special chaunts called tau manu. A number of these chaunts have been collected. The following are the opening lines of one of them:—
(I now chaunt my song, a song of thine, O Tane-te-waiora, to me. A song of thine, O Punaweko, to me, to this disciple, to this man of thine, O Punaweko).
There are three of these ceremonial chaunts that were sung by the fowlers as they approached the village. When they did reach it they chaunted another called the Chaunt of Uenuku. The experts rendered the body of the effusion, while the rest joined in the refrain. Then another formula was chaunted, and, at its conclusion, all the bearers deposited their burdens on the ground, as they stood facing the assembled villagers.
When the party of fowlers arrived at the village no sound of welcoming was heard from the assembled people. They waved a welcome to the returned party, but uttered no word. After the final chaunt had been delivered then they were free to cry a welcome to the fowlers, who were still under the tapu of Tane.
Such were the methods of the Maori when taking birds, the methods he practised here for many generations, in spite of Wilkes'statement as to his not being able to catch a bird. The Frenchman L'Horne also wrote of the Maori in 1769: “There are land birds in quantities, probably because the natives do not possess the cleverness to kill them.”
The clamour of the Mara o Tane is no longer heard as of yore in our woods, for the settler has largely destroyed the forests. But memories of the “sixties” still abide with us in these grey days of life, of the song of many hundreds of birds in the early morn, such tuneful clamour as was heard by Cook in Queen Charlotte Sound, and of which Edgar wrote in 1777: “We were quite delighted in the Morning with the sweet Harmony of the Birds which surpass'd anything of the kind I had ever met with for a pleasing Variety of Notes.”
The kiore maori, or native rat, much smaller than the socalled Norway rat, was an important food supply in some districts, that is in places where these frugivorous animals found a plentiful food supply for themselves. Such places were found on forest ranges where the beech tree was plentiful, for the beech mast provided an important proportion of the creature's food. All this, however, is in the past tense, for the native rat has gone the way of the great moa, and is no longer seen of man.
The native rat is said to have been by no means a scavenger; it was a clean feeder, even fastidious, and was
The generic term for the rat is kiore, but a number of other names have been collected, and these have caused confusion. It is difficult to ascertain which names pertain to the native rat only. matapo, moke, pouhawaiki, muritai, hamua and riroi all pertain to the introduced species, and that maungarua was a term denoting a large-sized rat. Williams and Taylor give maungarua as an introduced rat. Mice are often called kiore teoteo, or small rats. These, also, were introduced by early European vessels.
A number of old natives have stated that there were two varieties of the native rat, and that one variety was called hinamoki. Further evidence is confusing. Some east coast natives have stated that one variety was of a greyish colour, another brown, while Whanganui natives speak of the native rat as the kiore mohunu, which is probably a descriptive name. We do at least know that the native rat was Mus exulans, the same species as the native rat of Polynesia.
The native rat abode in hollow trees, also in holes in the ground, in the daytime, and came out to seek food at night. They preferred the high-lying forests, termed hunua by natives, where the beech flourishes, but also ate berries of other trees. They became fat during the winter months, but waxed thin in summer, hence they were taken in the former season. They left their holes at night and proceeded along the narrow ara kiore, or rat runs, to and through their feeding grounds. These little paths were bare and padded smooth by the feet of the little creatures, who used the same paths year after year. It was on these paths that traps were set for taking them, hence they were often termed ara tawhiti, or trapping paths. The tracks ran up spurs and along the summits of ridges and ranges, and extended for miles. Such long runs would be
Not infrequently rat run privileges were passed on to the female members of a family, while males acquired those of bird snaring trees, such as the toromiro (Podocarpus ferrugineus). In taking rats the rat traps were set every few feet on a run, the entrance being at the narrow little path, so that when a rat attempted to pass through the apparently harmless entrance of the trap, it was caught, and the passage left clear for others to pass through; these would encounter other traps as they proceeded. Trappers made no tracks for the rats, and the rat runs were never straight, but followed the sinuosities of spur or ridge.
Four different methods of taking the rat have been explained by old natives to the writer in the long years that lie behind. These were known by the following names:
4. Torea, kopiha, or paepae.
The first three of these are spring traps of different forms; the fourth is a pit trap.
Form No. 1. is usually termed simply a tawhiti kiore (rat trap). It is formed by erecting a small hoop across the run, under which the snare is placed. The first act is to erect the rupe or pawa (hoop). This is formed by sticking two pieces of supplejack in the earth, the two pieces being intertwined. A number of short pieces of straight stick, the turuturu, are thrust downward between the two pieces of the hoop and into the earth, leaving a space in the middle of the fencelike structure. The central space is at the rat run and is the only one wide enough for a rat to pass through. The whana or spring stick is then fixed. A piece of pliant supplejack vine has one of its ends thrust into the earth, while the other is bent over and downward until its end is immediately over the trap. A cord loop is attached to the end of the spring stick; this is
tohe; it is not a slip noose. A short piece of stick, the taratara, is then attached to the spring stick by means of a short piece of cord. In setting the trap the spring stick is bent down, the looped string is passed down between the two parts of the hoop until the bottom of it is just above the ground. The operator holds down the spring stick with one hand. With the other he takes the taratara and places it in a vertical position at one side of the central passage so that the upper end of this stick is on one side of the hoop, while the cord attached to it is on the other side. Allowing the spring stick to lift a little, the pull comes on the taratara. A short piece of stick slipped in between the uprights (turuturu)
and the lower end of the taratara prevents the latter being pulled upward, and the trap is set. That short piece of wood so inserted in a horizontal position is the kurupae; it is held in position by the strain on the taratara, and, being near the ground, a rat cannot pass under it.
Now when a rat comes along the run it endeavours to proceed by passing through the open passage left for it, and in order to do so it must pass over the horizontal kurupae stick. When it treads on that stick the pressure is sufficient to force it down and so release the vertical taratara. About that time everything seems to happen at once. The pluck of the spring causes the lower end of the taratara to fly upward. Its upper end slips out from under the hoop; the looped string is plucked up between the two parts of the hoop. But not all of
No form of bait was used at these traps set on the rat runs; it was unnecessary. The waharua, or tararua, was a double trap. Two traps similar to the above were constructed a little distance apart, and the sides of the intervening spaces blocked with sticks. Some bait of berries placed within the
little enclosure made this a desirable form of trap to set away from the runs, as on feeding grounds.
The pokipoki is a somewhat different form of trap. The hooplike rupe (7) is fixed, and a few upright sticks (turuturu 8) are inserted, on either side of the central passage. The spaces on either side are blocked up with the large leaves of the wharangi ( Brachyglottis repanda). The upright
The form of trap called a tawhiti makamaka was a portable form. It was not fixed in any way, but could be placed anywhere; hence its peculiar name. To construct this curious device a piece of supplejack vine was split at one end. This cleft was kept open by means of several small hoops made by coiling and tying pieces of vine. They were of different sizes, that at the outer end of the cleft being the largest; it was also in two pieces, like a rupe. They were tied to the two halves of the cleft stick, arranged crosswise, at right angles to it. On the outer side of this framework light strips of fibrous bark were arranged longitudinally and tied on to the frame, thus producing a narrow funnel-shaped receptacle.
The bait was placed inside the funnel, well up toward the small end. The unsplit end of the supplejack was then bent over until its end was near, and parallel to, the split end, and this served as the spring force of the trap. A short cord was secured to the end of the unsplit part, passed through the middle of the funnel just within the outer hoop, and tied to the cleft piece on the other side. This kept the bent supplejack in position, with the strain on the cord. A looped cord was then secured to the unsplit end and passed through the double outer hoop that acted as a rupe, and arranged as in the other traps.
A rat endeavouring to get at the bait within the funnel had to stop at the entrance, the passage way being blocked by the taut cord in the middle of the funnel. There was not sufficient room on either side of that cord for the rat to pass through to the bait, and it would proceed to gnaw through the cord to get at the bait beyond. When the cord was sufficiently weakened the
The tawhiti papa used by natives occasionally in modern times need not detain us. It is our figure of 4 device, introduced by Europeans.
The pit trap was an excavated hole about four feet in depth, situated in a place much frequented by rats. At the opening of the season certain berries eaten by rats were strewed on the bottom of the pit, and a pole placed slantwise in the hole so that rats could descend and also escape after eating the berries. In a few nights they would become accustomed to visiting the pit. The pole was now removed, and a number of short rods were stuck in the sides of the top of the pit in a horizontal position, projecting out over the pit. To the outer ends of these sticks the poa or bait of berries was tied. When rats came along and proceeded to eat the bait everything went well at first, but the rods were too slight to afford turning room for them, and when they endeavoured to turn they fell into the pit.
These pits were so excavated that their circumference at the top was much less than at the bottom, and so the rats could not escape. In one district I was informed that the rats, having become accustomed to finding foot in the pit, would, after the pole was removed, jump down into it in order to gain the bait, but that they were quite unable to ascend the overhanging sides of the pit, and so fell an easy prey to the trapper. Captain Cook tells us that rats were caught in pits by the natives of the New Hebrides.
When the first rat of the season was taken in a pit, the trapper would hold it forth in his left hand, face the east, and wave it up and down, and to and fro, as he recited a charm.
On the first day of the rat-trapping season all the trappers were under tapu. Each man recited a charm over the first trap set by him. Having set the traps the men returned to the camp or village, but had to be very circumspect in their behaviour. They might not speak for the balance of the day; in fact, not until the first catch was taken from the traps the
tapu was lifted from them. There was much ceremony, many restrictions, and repeated recital of ritual formulæ at the opening of the season for taking game.
In some districts, we are informed, rat trappers were not allowed to use certain words or names when engaged at their task, but had to use substitutes not employed at other times. Thus a young man was referred to as a himu; a child (tamaiti) as a moiti; a woman (wahine) as a puanga; and an old man (koroheke) as a purakau.
When the beech mast failed them, rats sometimes took to the open country, and then the fern was burned off, after which the rats were dug out of holes they had sought refuge in.
We will now discuss for a space the serious matters of rat life. The Maori had a firm belief that rats performed some marvellous swimming feats. For instance, that they swam across rivers in single file, each rat gripping in his teeth the tail of the rodent in front of him. Also that they sometimes swam out to sea. Natives have repeatedly told me that, in olden times, rats have been known to swim out into Lake Waikare-moana on misty nights until they were drowned. A similar statement has been made concerning the lemming of northern Europe. Some natives state that the nehu, or pollen of the beech, on the surface of the water, attracted the rats. My worthy old friend, Hori Ropiha, maintained that hordes of rats occasionally swam hither from Hawaiki; that is to say, from the isles of Polynesia. This would be a trifling swim of about 500 leagues.
Rats were sometimes singed and plucked, then cooked in a peculiar vessel formed of the base of a frond of the nikau palm, into which the rats were thrust, also some hot stones to cook them. They were also cooked in the ordinary steam oven. If they were to be potted a secondary process was employed. They were placed in a wooden vessel with hot stones, which caused the fat to run from them. These creatures could be plucked as a bird is, according to native evidence. When so plucked the skin was white—like the skin of a white man, said my informant.
The woodcraft of the Maori is passing swiftly into the unknown, for the fowling piece has taken the place of snare and spear. The Maori no longer has to know the habits of the offspring of Tane; the tapu of the ancient forest is no more; its mauri is virtueless; the forest itself is disappearing. The old lore of Tane, and Rehua, and Punaweko, is but a memory.
Primitive Polynesian artifacts and methods—The two garments of Maoriland—Bark cloth of Polynesia—Search for a new material—The “woven cloth” of Juan Fernandez—Remarks of early voyagers—Modes of wearing garments—Garments of women—Children naked to the four winds—The House of Weaving—Ceremonial instruction in art of weaving—Charms recited—A tapu performance—The moon goddess patroness of the art of weaving—The highly useful Phormium plant—Preparation of fibre—Rolled twine—Use of dyes—Weaving a woman's task—Other materials employed by weavers—Superior cloaks—Dog skin capes—Feather capes—Belts—Sandals—Introduction of European garments—How the Maori wore them—Floor mats—Baskets—Twine and cordage—Modes of plaiting.
We have now to consider the various arts pertaining to the manufacture of clothing, as also of mats, baskets and belts, as practised by the Maori in pre-European days. The crude method of weaving employed by the Maori folk is yet another proof of the long isolation of the Polynesian race in the isles of the Pacific. It is one of many primitive usages, processes and institutions preserved by these islanders in their sea-girt homes down the changing centuries. It is the fact of these survivals of crude usages having been so preserved down to our own time that makes Polynesian technology such an interesting study.
With regard to the clothing of these natives there was but little variety in form, though there were many different designs in their manufacture. The Maori wore but two garments, a kilt and a rectangular fabric to cover the shoulders and body. This latter garment differed in size to a considerable extent, hence they may be divided into two classes, capes and cloaks. The present writer has a long-standing quarrel with writers on the Maori over their constant use of the objectionable term “mat” to denote the cape and cloak of the Maori wardrobe.
A brief notice may be taken of the clothing of the Mouriuri folk, the original inhabitants of the North Island. According to Maori tradition they wore nothing but a girdle of leaves during the summer, but in winter they wore coarse capes, rough fabrics fashioned from the fibrous leaves of Phormium, Freycinetia and Cordyline.
We have noted the Maori habit of assigning his various activities, industries, etc., to certain “houses,” and, in connection with our present subject, we find that the arts of weaving and kindred processes all come within the term Whare pora. This may be rendered as “the house of weaving,” but it must not be understood as a house set apart for that purpose, inasmuch as no such house existed.
The terms kaka, kakahu, weru, weruweru and puweru all denote garments, clothing in general, but in many cases kakahu is applied to superior garments only, while rough, inferior ones are styled puweru and weruweru. Kilts are called paki and rapaki, each kind having a distinctive name. There is no generic term including all capes and cloaks for covering the upper part of the body, so far as I am aware, but each of the many kinds has its own name. Belts are termed tatua and whitiki, while the maro worn by men may be described as a breech clout, as it was drawn in between the legs and did not hang down like the kilt, as the maro worn by women did.
When the ancestors of the Maori came hither from the isles of Polynesia they had at once to consider the question of clothing, to seek a new material wherefrom to fabricate garments. They had come from lands possessing a much warmer climate than that of New Zealand, and where the so-called bark cloth made from the bark of the aute, or paper mulberry, was to them a sufficient covering. In the much colder climate of these isles it was found necessary to seek a more suitable
aute was not found here, and when introduced it did not flourish. Native tradition tells us that a form of cloth was made locally from the inner bark of the whauwhi, or “lace-bark” tree, but this was probably but a temporary substitute. The immigrants were fortunate in finding fibrous materials here wherefrom to fabricate garments. They found in the flax a suitable fibre that was obtainable in almost every district.
As to the peculiar style of weaving (so-called) employed by the Maori I am not aware as to whether the art was introduced from Polynesia, evolved here by the Maori, or acquired from the aboriginal folk. The same method has been employed by barbaric folk of other lands, and such fabrics are sometimes described as “tied cloth” by anthropologists. At the same time the ordinary clothing of the natives of southern and eastern Polynesia certainly consisted of bark fabrics, not woven stuffs. It has, therefore, been a matter of conjecture as to what land it was that was visited by Juan Fernandez in the 16th century, and whereat he encountered “white people, well made, of out own stature, dressed with very good woven cloth (muy buenas telas), and so peaceable and kind.” Did Juan Fernandez reach the shores of New Zealand? If not, where else would he encounter a people wearing “woven cloth”? We are told that he sailed from the coast of Chili about 40 degrees, and (apparently) then sailed “between the west and south-west,” reaching in one month a large land, “fertile and pleasant.” Those early Spanish voyagers described Polynesians as caras blancas, or white-faced. The voyage was kept secret lest the English or Dutch should introduce among the natives “the venom of their heresy.” Another account states that Juan sailed west and then south, and that in the newly-discovered land were seen the mouths of very large rivers. This new-found tierra firme was thought to be part of a southern continent.
The description of Maori customs, practices and manufactures given in the works of early voyagers are of great service to those who wish to describe such matters, inasmuch as they show us pre-European conditions. Thus Cook describes as follows the rough every-day cloak of the coarser
Cook made the mistake of stating that a form of needle or bodkin was used in the weaving of these rectangular garments, but the only way in which such an object was employed was in separating the hanging threads when they became entangled during the process of weaving. He noted that the finer cloaks had in some cases ornamental borders woven in different colours, or trimmed with dogskin, or feathers.
Other interesting usages were noted by Cook and his contemporaries. For instance, the kilt-like waist garment (rapaki) was sometimes discarded, a man wearing a cloak or cape only, and indeed this one garment was not infrequently cast aside. As Cook himself remarked: “Neither is it at all uncommon for them to go quite naked without any one thing about them besides a belt round their waists, to which is generally fastened a small string, which they tie round the prepuce… The women, on the other hand, always wear something round their middle, generally a short thrumbed mat, which reaches as low as their knees… they likewise wear a piece of cloth over their shoulders as the men do; this is generally of the thrumb kind.”
Crozet mentions the common use of the rough cape that hung down as far as the waist, covering the shoulders and back, but leaving the chest and stomach exposed. With the latter, he tells us, was worn the waist garment or kilt, held round the waist by a belt. These two garments were worn by both sexes. Crozet also mentions what he calls waterproof
whakatipu, that were covered on the outer side with rough strips of fibrous leaves resembling thatch. He also remarked that only persons of superior station were seen wearing the superior garments made of carefully dressed fibres, soft fabrics adorned in various ways. The rapaki, or kilt, he calls a loincloth. Wilkes noted that, in 1840, the old native garments were still seen in use, but that they were gradually being replaced by European fabrics. He also remarked on the dirty habits of the natives, who seldom, if ever, washed themselves or their garments. This concerned the natives of the Bay of Islands, who were certainly a very unpleasant lot in 1840.
There was assuredly little warmth in these Maori garments, though they sheltered the body. Not being close-fitting to the body, as are our own garments, was a serious drawback, but the Maori was certainly hardy in former times, and so doubtless the wind was tempered to the shorn lamb. The upper garment, being a rectangular one, was inconvenient when a person was at work, and was very often discarded at such times. A cape might be worn during cold weather, but the longer cloak was not a suitable garment for a man engaged in any strenuous task.
The capes that came down to the waist line, or somewhat lower, were secured by one tie across the breast. The long cloaks, or mantles, as some early writers termed them, were fastened on the shoulder, and also often confined round the body by means of a belt. The upper fastening was sometimes made by means of a curved cloak pin, called au, autui, and aurei. These were fashioned from ivory, bone, shell, greenstone, and sometimes wood. Bunches of smooth pieces of bone or whale's tooth were sometimes attached to the upper part of the cloak, where they were secured by means of a pin.
Women wore the upper garment so that it met in front in many cases, especially the shorter ones, or capes. The long cloaks were so worn by them as to meet on the left shoulder or in front. They often arranged them round the body below the arms, so as to leave both arms free, when at work. Kilts were fastened on the right side by means of string ties. Men arranged their cloaks so as to meet and fasten on the right
When engaged at any task women often discarded the awkward upper garment, retaining merely the kilt-like article. At other times also they would so appear if the weather conditions were suitable. The more important personages of a community possessed more clothing than others, and so nudity was most common among the ordinary folk. Women, however, always wore some covering round the waist, and never appeared, as men sometimes did, with nought but a belt on.
maro kopua. Apparently, however, they were not commonly worn, but were of superior manufacture and worn by comparatively few. We are told that a young woman of superior family might wear two of these curiously shaped aprons. Cook's people saw some of these aprons that were adorned with feathers and shells.
An interesting feature of native life was the manner in which children were reared. They were allowed to run about in a state of nudity until they reached the age of from six to twelve years, as given by various early writers. In some of the colder districts it must have been a case of the survival of the fittest. Little wonder that the survivors were hardy.
The Maori possessed no grateful form of bed clothing, merely the rough, coarse garments of his daily life; these were employed as covering at night. This lack of warm fabrics accounts for the care taken to make sleeping huts warm. Some few possessed a large rug of Phormium fibre, the uhipuni, that served as a covering at night. It resembled the garment called a mai, being woven of dressed fibre though not of superior quality and appearance like the korowai.
The house of weaving already referred to was known as the whare pora, whare parapara, and whare takutaku, the name differing in different districts. There was a certain amount of tapu and ceremony pertaining to the acquirement of the art of weaving. When a young woman desired to learn how to weave fine garments she obtained the assistance of an expert. She had to weave a small piece of fabric under close supervision, and the task was accompanied by certain ceremonial, including the repetition of charms by the directing expert.
The paraphernalia employed by the native weaver was simple in the extreme. It consisted of two wooden rods or long pegs; these were inserted in the earth, or, in some cases, attached to the wall or roof of the hut in which the weaving was being done. These upright rods are called turuturu, and to them was attached the tawhiu, a piece of rolled twine that served as the first aho or cross thread of the fabric. In the case of superior garments such as the korowai four of these upright rods were used. The tawhiu having been stretched
io or whenu were attached by one end to the tawhiu, from which they hung suspended. The weaver proceeded by working in woof threads from left to right; either two or four of these cross threads being employed. These cross threads are called aho. If but two of these are being used the method is to pass one on either side of each vertical thread, reversing them at each manipulation so as to enclose the io. Thus it will be seen that this process is not true weaving, but a form of plaiting, producing the “tied cloth” of some writers. When four cross threads are used two are passed behind the first vertical thread and two in front of it. They are then reversed, the two front threads are passed behind the second vertical thread, and the two hidden ones brought to the front; there was no knotting. These aho or cross threads are but about a quarter of an inch apart in carefully made superior garments; in others they are seen as much as an inch apart.
The first cross thread woven by the learner is viewed as the tapu thread, and the right hand peg of the crude frame is said to have also been tapu. Prior to the commencement of the weaving the learner, sitting before the frame or pegs, took a hank of dressed fibre in her hand and sat inactive as the expert recited a charm he object of which was to force the knowledge of the art of weaving into the mind of the learner, and render it permanent. As the expert finished his recitation the scholar leaned forward and bit the upper part of the right hand turuturu, or rod, just closing her teeth on it. She then proceeded to weave the first cross thread. She would then weave a few more cross threads under the eye of the expert when her weaving would be discontinued for the day. That first piece of work was styled a kawhatuwhatu; it was never finished or continued, but was viewed as a pattern piece, a kind of sampler.
Another ceremony was performed in order to remove the tapu of the proceedings from the actors. In this performance the scholar was given a small portion of a herb called puwha to eat, and the ceremony itself was sometimes termed moremore puwha. Such ceremonies were considered to be quite necessary
tapu and the belief in the existence of supernormal beings connected with such activities. Thus one Hine-te-iwaiwa is looked upon as the patroness and originator of the art of weaving. The same position was assigned to Hina, but we have already seen that Hina and Hine-te-iwaiwa are two names applied to one being, the personified form of the moon. Rua is another name mentioned in connection with weaving, and with all other arts, simply because he is the personified form of knowledge.
The great majority of garments were made of the fibre of the highly useful phormium plant, termed flax by us. This plant was assuredly a boon to the Maori in more ways than one. There are two species of it and a number of varieties, all of which have native names. There is a considerable difference in the quality of the fibre of these different varieties; some have coarse fibre, some fine, and the fibre also differs in strength. Thus in seeking material for such different products as coarse capes, fine cloaks, fishing lines, nets, etc. natives were careful to procure the most suitable varieties.
The Phormium plant was cultivated to some extent by the Maori. He often planted the more useful varieties near his village home, often in his cultivation grounds, and attended to them by keeping the plants free from surrounding weeds, cutting off dead leaves, etc. Such a grove of Phormium plants was called a pa harakeke. In some cases they were rahuitia, preserved by the owners from light-fingered folk by means of magic spells.
The fibre of Phormium is obtained from the leaf by either a scraping or a stripping process, according to the variety being worked. The scraping process is termed hāro, while takiri describes the stripping method. The prepared fibre is termed whitau, but the plant (and its unworked leaves) is called harakeke. A single leaf is a wha harakeke. The fibre is soaked in water, washed, scraped and dried. For some purposes it was submitted to a process of beating in order to soften it. This softened material was used for the vertical threads or warp threads of fine garments. The beaten fibre was much softer to the skin of the wearer than unbeaten
aho, or cross threads of a cloak. The beater used was fashioned from stone in many cases, though hardwood implements were employed for the purpose in some districts. They were called patu whitau.
The threads used by weavers were formed by means of a rolling process, and were of two kinds. That termed miro is made by taking a small portion of fibre and rolling it by means of hand pressure. The operator placed it across his right leg, holding it with his left hand, and used his right hand to roll it with. This rolled miro thread was the one commonly used. When a karure or double thread was required, as for thrums, etc., then it was produced by rolling two miro threads together. Some natives appear to apply the term takerekere to a rolled thread, and miro to the rolling of two such threads together. Miri also denotes the rolling of fibre to form a thread as used in weaving. A length of such twine is produced by means of adding more fibre as the work proceeds. The word whiri denotes the twisting or plaiting of two or more strands together with the fingers.
A peculiar process was employed in some parts in order to bleach or whiten fibre to be used in the manufacture of superior garments. Roots of raupo bulrush (Typha) were procured, washed, then placed in a wooden vessel with water, in which they were crushed and pounded with a pestle of stone or hardwood. The hanks of fibre were then put in and the whole worked and pounded, a process that is said to have produced a kind of lather (pahuka). This process is said to have much improved the appearance of the fibre, some property of the bulrush root having a bleaching or cleansing effect.
The Maori was not in the habit of weaving capes or cloaks in different colours; he preferred to confine the use of coloured fibres to the borders of a garment and the dangling thrums attached to the body thereof. These coloured borders are termed taniko, and they were attached to superior garments only. In order to dye fibre black a singular process was employed. Bark of the hinau tree (Elœocarpus) was pounded and broken up, placed in a wooden vessel, and water was poured over it. After standing for some time the water be-
A reddish brown dye was obtained from the bark of the toatoa or tanekaha (Phyllocladus). This bark was broken up, pounded, placed in a wooden vessel with water and stone boiled. This process brought out the colouring qualities of the bark and rendered the water a reddish colour, and in this heated water the fibre was steeped. When taken out the fibre was rolled in a bed of hot, clean ashes in order to set the dye, to render it fast, after which it was put back in the hot water for a short space of time ere it was dried. These were the two commonly-used dyes of the Maori. A yellow dye was occasionally obtained from a Coprosma, and a blue-black from the tutu (Coriaria). Mr. Eugenia maire and Aristotelia (mako).
It will readily be seen that the weaving of a superior cloak was a long task; it represented long months of work. Truly natives needed the qualities of patience and application in many of their avocations. One of the slowest tasks of these female artisans was represented by the making of a feather cape or cloak wherein each single feather had to be fastened into the fabric as the work proceeded. Statements made by certain early writers that the Maori weaver formed the woof thread into a ball and so passed it through the warp threads are quite untrustworthy. Again, Crozet's statements as to natives submitting Phormium to a retting process, also that they employed wheel and distaff in thread spinning, are erroneous and utterly misleading. The fact that no form of implement whatever was employed by these neolithic weavers
Weaving was essentially the task of women in Maoriland, including the procuring and preparation of the materials. We are told that, occasionally, men would busy themselves in weaving taniko borders for garments. Of the art of weaving as practised in the South Island, we have no information, as no single European of the early days of settlement in those parts seems to have taken any intelligent interest in the native folk and their usages. Some old garments found in a South Island cave, however, are interesting as showing two modes of weaving, or rather of “tied” fabrics, quite unlike the North Island weaving as known to us.
In weaving capes and cloaks the garments were made to fit across the shoulders by working in short wefts that did not extend to the margins of the garment. The woven body or groundwork of a feather cloak, or cape on which pieces of dog skin were fastened was called the kaupapa. The form of pseudo-weaving or plaiting adopted by the Maori is described by the word whatu.
Other materials than Phormium were used to a much smaller extent in the manufacture of garments. Rough capes, termed pake, were made from the fibrous leaves of Freycinetia Banksii (kiekie), and from those of Cordyline Banksii and C. australis (toi and kouka). Angas mentions having seen a cape fashioned from a fibrous bark, possibly that of the whauwhi tree. Brunner mentions a case in which a native made a temporary kind of cape from bark of the manuka tree. Missionary Taylor tells us that a form of cloth was occasionally made in olden days from the inner bark of the houhere (lace-bark or ribbon-wood tree).
The superior garments alluded to above were made in many styles, each of which had its proper name. Some had ornamental borders on the sides and lower end, some had these worked, coloured borders on the remu, or lower end only. Many had no such adornment, but had many black or white thrums attached to the outer sides. The ornamental borders of fine cloaks were of very close texture, the cross threads being close together instead of having a space between them. The
Phormium fibre on which were sewn many narrow strips of dog skin arranged close together. Early voyagers mistook these nondescript garments for pelts of large animals. Of several different forms of these capes
that covered with long white hair from the tail of the native dog seems to have been the most highly prized.
The feather capes so often seen nowadays were by no means common in former times. This fact must be clearly understood. They were luxuries seldom indulged in, a statement supported by the evidence of Banks and other early writers. In a few cases birds were skinned, and such skins were sewn on to a groundwork of Phormium fibre. The other method followed was to work the feathers in to the body of the cloak as it was being woven. Each single feather was ar-
kaka parrot were used in the manufacture of a very showy and highly valued cape styled a kahukura. In making a cape of kiwi feathers the bird seems to have been skinned in former times. The great variety of feather covered capes now seen at native meetings
is quite a modern feature. In the manufacture of feather capes the Maori was excelled by the Hawaiians.
Belts worn by the natives were as a rule fashioned from Phormium, but occasionally other materials were employed, such as pingao (Scirpus frondosus). Belts worn by men were usually made by plaiting strips of undressed Phormium leaf, such as are used in mat making. Some of these strips would be dyed black, and so the belt would show patterns such as are seen in baskets and floor mats, such as that termed poutama. A common form of belt worn by men was the tatua
pupara, in which the plaited fabric was doubled over and the two edges loosely sewn together. These belts were sometimes used as receptacles for small articles, the Maori lacking pockets in his garments. They were three to four inches in width, a cord at either end serving as ties for securing it round the waist. A narrow form of belt about one inch wide is termed makawe by the Whanganui natives.
A form of belt, termed a tu, composed of a number of twisted or plaited strands, was worn by women. Some were made of Phormium fibre in different colours, others of fragrant or coloured grasses, such as karetu ( Hierochloe redolens) and
Sandals were apparently but little worn in the North Island, but more frequently in the South. They were called paraerae, parekereke etc., and a form of rough legging occasionally employed was known as taupa or rohe. A curious form of combined sandal and gaiter was sometimes worn, as when crossing snow-clad ranges. The Tuhoe natives employed the tough, spinous leaves of the spear grass (Aciphylla) for this purpose. In the South Island sandals were made of Cordyline and Phormium leaves, the former being the most durable. The ærial roots of the kiekie seem to have been occasionally plaited into a form of sandal.
The fabrics and garments introduced by Europeans were eagerly adopted by the Maori, or at least with the exception of trousers, which were extremely irksome to him. When our garments were first acquired by natives but one difficulty was experienced by them, and that was how to get into them. These kahu pukoro, or baglike garments, were a puzzle to them, so much did they differ from their own kahu paroha or open mantle-like garments. Thus individuals wore the new apparel each according to his own taste or sense of fitness. Thus we are told of women clad in trousers put on back to front, of men wearing shirts as kilts, and of one endeavouring to thrust his bulky legs through the arms of a shirt. Polack speaks of a dandy who wore a black stocking on one arm, and a white sock on the other, also a pair of trousers tied round his neck. Yate tells us of a native walking into church wearing the sleeves of a woman's gown as stockings, two baskets tied on his feet
The plaited floor mats used by the Maori were employed as sleeping mats, and were of two qualities. A coarse mat, termed a tuwhara, was overlaid by a finer one made of narrow strips of Phormium leaf, or of the leaf of Freycinetia Banksii (kiekie). Those made from the former leaf were often worked in patterns, but the more highly-prized kiekie mats were preferred plain. The finer mats are termed takapau, while whariki is a generic term including anything used as a floor covering, be it fabric or merely loose bracken or bulrushes. Mats were occasionally fashioned from other materials.
Maori basketwork is by no means of so interesting a nature as that of some other peoples, including some of decidedly inferior culture. The Maori relied largely on baskets in many of his industries, but his artistic sense is not much in evidence in his manufacture of baskets. He did not construct open, rigid basketwork of ornate design. The only ornamental articles were ordinary baskets of plaited strips of various fibrous leaves, usually Phormium, but occasionally those of the Cordyline, Freycinetia, pingao, etc., were used.
The vast majority of baskets made were for use only, hastily made food baskets, such as have been described, or larger, stronger ones of the kowarawara class for general purposes. Those plaited from leaves of Cordyline were more durable than those made of Phormium. A few ornate baskets were made for keeping or carrying small articles in. Such baskets were more carefully made than work baskets; they were of closer plait and often adorned with geometric designs in black and white. The finer ones were termed putea, and of these the kopa was provided with a flap, and was sometimes carried slung over the shoulder or tied round the waist. It was often used as a substitute for pockets.
The highly ornate fancy baskets made of dressed and dyed fibre that have been so much in evidence for many years
In the manufacture of twine and cordage the Maori certainly excelled. He made extremely neat, and well laid string, fishing lines, etc., as also many forms of heavier cordage. The practices of forming rolled and twisted twine have already been referred to. The following terms are employed to denote various plaits:—
Some other names were formerly used, and some difference is noted in names of some forms as in different districts. The ordinary material used for cordage was the leaf of the Phormium, both raw and dressed. Occasionally other fibrous substances were used, such as houhi bark and leaves of Cordyline.
Personal adornment pertained largely to men—Men wore hair long, women wore it short—Hair cutting—Hair dressing—Combs—Decorative plumes—Anklets—Bracelets—Nose ornament—Ear pendants—Greenstone pendants—Neck pendants—The tiki—Whale tooth neck pendant—Necklaces—Fragrant herbs, how used—Face painting—Paints—Ochre—Other pigments—Tattooing of men and women—Origin of tattooing art—Ancient designs—The world-wide kauae—Maori designs at Aitutaki—Polynesian tattooing—Age of subject—Object of tattooing—Abandonment of the art—Obsolete styles—Unusual designs—The uhi or tattooing instrument—The pigment and its manufacture—Mode of tattooing—A severe ordeal—Ceremonial and tapu—Payment of operator—Human sacrifice—Tattooing of women—Tattooing of the tongue, etc.—Europeans tattooed by Maori—Trade in tattooed heads—The scroll a tattooed design in Borneo.
Under the above heading the most important thing to be described is the native practice of tattooing. We will however, first deal with the native mode of dressing the hair, and the various ornaments worn in the hair and ears, and on neck and limbs. Also the use of paint on face and body finds a place here, for the Maori holds that the custom of painting devices on the human body preceded the art of tattooing.
It may, I think, be said that personal adornment was indulged in more by men than women in olden times. They tattooed themselves much more profusely than did women, and also devoted much more care to dressing and adorning their hair. Men are said to have worn their hair long, while women kept their hair cut short, but this usage was by no means a constant one. Apart from the hair-cutting ceremonial pertaining to mourning functions, men not infrequently had their hair cut for other reasons. With short hair a man might wear such head ornaments as plumes by confining them with a form of chaplet or fillet, often a plaited band made to fit the head.
Cutting the hair was held to be an important function among the Maori folk, save in the case of persons of low rank. It was attended by all the tapu observances and ritual that marked the same functions among certain peoples of India. Hair-cutting was done with sharp-edged flakes of obsidian or other stone; occasionally it was singed with a firestick. The cut hair was carefully deposited at the tapu place of the village, or placed on a tree, or secreted in some way. The expressions waru mahunga and whakaiho denote the act of hair-cutting.
The long hair of men was dressed in various ways, and a man's wife often attended to this task. One mode, termed koukou, was to draw up the hair on top of the head, where it was tied with a strand of fibre (occasionally in the north a piece of aute was used for this purpose), the tie being described as a tauhere. The loose part of the hair was then doubled down, tucked in, and another tie put round it. These two ties served to confine such ornaments as plumes and ornamental combs that were thrust into the hair. In some cases a man's hair was divided into a number of bunches (putiki), each of which was tied. Thus we hear of a man having his hair tied in as many as eight bunches. Yet another mode was to draw the whole of the hair through a small wooden ring, after which it was brought down outside the ring and tied underneath it. We are also told that a man's long hair was sometimes plaited in one or more plaits, which plaits were then arranged on the top of his head. Hair arranged in a knot on the top of the head is described as a ngoungou, while tope and kotare denote a forelock of long hair, the rest being cut short.
Parkinson speaks of a native having his hair knotted on the crown of the head in two bunches. When a man's hair was carefully dressed it was combed and oiled ere being done up. The ornamental combs worn by men in their hair were also employed for combing purposes. They were not worn by women, or but very rarely. Some of these combs were fashioned from hardwood, the tines being secured by an ingenious lashing device. More highly prized ones were cut out of a piece of whale's bone in one piece. These were often
Haliotis shell. They were called heru tuki and heru tu rae.
Feathers and plumes were used as ornaments by the Maori. Plumes for decorating the head were called rau, raukura and piki; wing feathers were termed kira, and tail feathers huma-
eko and kotore. Certain tail feathers of the albatross are called kaiwharawhara. Such decorative plumes were obtained, not only from the albatross, but also from the cuckoo (koekoea), huia, kakapo, white heron, tropic bird (amokura), gannet, etc. The black and white tail feathers of the huia
Anklets were occasionally worn by young women, and the same may be said of bracelets; it was by no means a common practice. A favoured form in some parts was a woven band worked in different colours in the taniko style. These adornments were called tauri komore. In some cases shells were so used, but these were more commonly worn as necklaces; shells of Dentalium and Turritella were so employed. Tattooed bands were occasionally seen on the wrists or ankles of women, who also sometimes wore flowers as ornaments. A very singular form of ornament, if it may be so termed, was that called pongiangia, occasionally worn by men. It consisted of two feathers, long stiff plumes, thrust through the septum of the nose. It imparts a most grotesque appearance to the wearer, as I myself have seen.
Ear pendants were worn by both sexes, and were of many different forms and materials. Polack tells us that natives wore, not only many kinds of ear pendants, but also armlets, ringlets and necklets and anklets. He may possibly have meant bracelets or wristlets when he employed the term armlets. As to the ringlets it is doubtful as to what he meant. We do not know that the natives used finger rings, and their hair was not wont to assume the form of ringlets. When Cook was lying at Queen Charlotte Sound in 1773 he obtained from the natives a well-made ear pendant of glass, fashioned from material acquired from the Endeavour. The expression whakakai, so often heard, is not a specific term for a particular kind of pendant, but is employed as a generic term for ear pendants, or at least for those fashioned from stone. In like manner the term hei denotes a neck pendant. Neck pendants are also denoted by the generic term mau kaki, and all ear pendants by that of mau taringa.
A much-favoured ear ornament among both sexes was that called a pohoi. It consisted of a bunch of the soft downy feathers of the albatross or gannet. Such an ornament has an appearance very similar to that of the
kahu raurekau, a thin, white, filmy tissue stripped from the leaves of a tree, Coprosma grandifolia.
Birds often provided ear pendants of other forms, such as the heads, wings and beaks of various species, also strips of skin with feathers attached, and pieces of bone. Occasionally a person would suspend a small bird from his ear, and Yate tells us that he saw live birds so worn, birds of small species, the head being thrust through the hole in the ear. It would remain so suspended until it died, and for some time after. Flowers were also sometimes suspended from the ears. Human teeth, those of both friends and enemies, also dog's teeth and shark's teeth served as ear pendants, the last being very highly prized, though high value was placed on those of one species only, said to be Lamna cornubica. In late times the Maori has covered the fang end of these teeth with red sealing wax as an additional attraction. The shark that provided these tooth pendants was caught by means of a strong noose line. The form of these teeth was sometimes copied in greenstone and steatite.
Highly prized also were the various forms of ear pendants fashioned from greenstone, a name applied to nephrite, bowenite, and some other stones. Some of these were straight, such as the kurukuru; some curved at the lower end (kapeu or tautau); some flat (kuru papa). Early voyagers speak of the natives wearing ear rings, but ring-shaped ear pendants were rarely worn. Kuru seems to have been employed as a generic term for greenstone ear pendants; koko also denotes an ear pendant. Motoi, tara, whakarupe and taupiko are also terms for greenstone pendants. The awhe seems to be the same as as kapeu; the motoi was a short form. The small greenstone chisels used by wood carvers were often worn suspended from the ear. The koropepe is a small scroll-like pendant that looks like a coiled snake; it was fashioned from greenstone and bone. The peculiar forms termed pekapeka and matau, or hei matau, seem to have been worn as neck pendants. A
porotaka on account of its form, while the former was occasionally fashioned from bone, ivory, or common stone, though most of them were of greenstone. Apart from these orthodox forms smooth pieces of greenstone (bowenite, etc.) were often worn as ear pendants; these were of odd forms, resembling water-worn pebbles. The poria or moria was of the same form as the ring of that name put on the leg of a captive parrot.
The turuki or kope seems to have been a strip or roll of aute bark worn in the ears; the filmy epidermis of the ti kumu, a Celmisia, was occasionally used for the same purpose. Early writers speak of dried specimens of hippocampus as having been worn as pendants. A number of bone pendants of odd forms were fashioned, the most interesting of which were certain finely carved objects showing very fine reticulated work. The few specimens found are much damaged owing to their fragile nature.
When the Maori came to obtain European articles from early voyagers and traders he employed coins, buttons, buckles, and many other articles as ear pendants. When given one of the prized old-fashioned square cut nails he at once thrust it into the hole in his ear for safe keeping. When he acquired the smoking habit he carried his clay pipe in the same place.
The most prized of neck pendants was the greenstone tiki, of which we have already spoken. The wry-necked form is sometimes called pitau. Less valued ones were fashioned from bone, and a few were made of a form of ivory, namely, whale's teeth; these latter ones took a high polish. The term tiki popohe was applied to badly-made specimens of tiki, and possibly also to some uncommon forms that are occasionally seen. Other neck pendants were those fashioned from teeth of the sperm whale. Banks described these as the “tooth of a sperm whale cut slantwise so as to resemble somewhat a tongue, and furnished with two eyes. These they wear about their necks and seem to value almost above everything else.” The peculiar form of these large rei paraoa pendants was owing to the cutting away of the basal end of the tooth so as to dispose of the hollow part.
Necklaces of many different substances were worn, such as shells, spool-like objects fashioned from bone, human teeth, dog's teeth, shark's teeth, and short pieces of bone. Bones of the albatross were cut into short pieces called poro toroa, and worn both singly and strung into necklace form. Numbers of small stone, spool-like objects found seem to point to them having been formed into necklaces. Seeds of the tawa-a-pou (Sideroxylon costatum) were also formed into necklaces.
Natives also wore certain objects that may be called sachets, small bags made of fragrant grasses such as karetu ( Hierochloe redolens), in which certain odorous mosses, leaves, etc., were placed. The same grass was used in making fillets. Oil expressed from
In speaking of personal ornaments we must not omit the custom of using various forms of paint for adorning the face and body. The most commonly used was a form of red ochre obtained from streams and swamps wherein much mud or earth coloured by oxide of iron was obtained. Quantities of fern were laid down in such water and the coloured particles of matter in the waters were deposited on the fern. When a considerable quantity had so collected the fern fronds were removed, the mud collected, formed into balls and dried at a fire. When a red paint was wanted a portion of this hardbaked kokowai or horu was scraped off and mixed with oil. In some places a red ochreous earth was found and used instead of the mud collected in water.
A blue paint was obtained from a coloured earth called pukepoto, which is said to be vivianite. It is a rare substance
Women did not use pigments so generally as men did, but they used the red ochre to some extent. Also young women were fond of colouring their cheeks with dabs of blue pukepoto, or any red substance. They used the ripe red berries of the kokaha, an Astelia, for this purpose, and several other berries. Colonel McDonnell and Angas both tell us that girls coloured their cheeks with pink colouring matter of the feet of the bush pigeon. Angas also tells us that he saw children smeared over with red ochre and oil from head to foot in order to protect them from sandflies.
The rancid oil used by natives for the preparation of their beloved red paint rendered the painted ones highly malodorous, and their appearance was grotesque in the extreme. Polack speaks of a man who painted his forehead, nose and chin a bright yellow, obtained from the bark of a tree (? Coprosma), every other part of his face being a fiery red. Another had a blue circle round each eye, a black stripe across the nose, and the rest of his face painted red.
The small, carefully made boxes in which plumes and other articles of adornment were kept were called waka huia, waka kautuku, and waka pare.
In the art of tattooing we encounter the grandest effort of the Maori in connection with adornment of the person, and in order to acquire this coveted decoration he was compelled to undergo an extremely severe operation. For tattooing in Maoriland was not a matter of being merely pricked by needles; it was a very painful ordeal. The instrument employed formed a marked channel wherever it cut.
Tattooing was not employed by the Maori as any form of tribal mark, nor was the embellishment confined to members of high-class families. Both sexes were so adorned when they attained maturity, but women were but little marked as in comparison with men. Hochstetter's statement that certain de-
The native name for tattooing, as executed by means of the uhi (tattooing implement), is moko, the verb being ta, or ta moko, as it is usually employed. The straight lines that were formerly seen, principally on women, as on the legs below the knee, sometimes on the body, occasionally even the back, were known as haehae because they were not made by puncture but by scoring the skin with a flake of obsidian, and then inserting the kauri or pigment used by tattooers. The natives of Whanganui assert that mahuta was a name for tattooing generally in ancient times, but this statement has not been corroborated.
Maori tradition seems to recognise a period in which tattooing by puncture was unknown to their ancestors. In that far past period we are told a mode of personal decoration consisted of painting various devices on the body. This adornment is described as whakairo tuhi and hopara makaurangi. Tattooing by puncture is sometimes referred to as whakairo tangata, the word whakairo carrying the meaning of “to embellish with a pattern.” Tuhi means “to delineate,” and this term is employed to describe the marking of designs on the skin, as done prior to tattooing by puncture.
The principal myth connected with the origin of tattooing by puncture is that in which a person of ancient times named Mataora is said to have visited the underworld of spirits, where he found the art practised. On his return to the upper world he brought with him the knowledge of the arts of tattooing and weaving. Possibly this story may be a perverted account of an old-time voyage to some isle or land whereat true tattooing was in vogue. It must here be borne in mind that tattoo is not a Maori expression; it is a word utterly foreign to the local native tongue.
We are told in native myth that the designs of tattooing obtained by Mataora were those called poniania, pihere, ngu and tiwhana. Two of these are nose designs, the second is near the mouth, and the fourth is on the forehead. Niwareka, the wife of Mataora, was adorned with the only design tattooed on women in those remote times, namely, a cross on the forehead and one on each cheek. The pukauae and ngutu
(chin and lip) designs were then unknown. We are told that the former design was first incised on the upper part of gourd water vessels prior to it being utilised as a tattoo design. The Tuhoe natives have also told me that, in former times, their women were sometimes marked with three crosses, as Niwareka had been in remote times. The Abors, a hill tribe of northern India, tattoo a cross on the forehead, women being marked by a small cross on the upper lip and seven stripes under the
Dr.
These local designs are, in most cases, peculiar to New Zealand, but at Aitutaki Island, in the Cook Group, we meet with a design closely resembling the Maori tiwhana, and also the Maori design called korowaha. If these designs were employed at Aitutaki in pre-European days the fact is a remarkable one, for they in no way resemble the other Polynesian designs we are acquainted with. Further information concerning their use at the above isle in olden times would be welcomed, otherwise the suspicion of post-European contact with the Maori is bound to arise. Many natives of New Zealand visited the isles of Polynesia in the whaling days of a century ago. Apart from the above instance I am not aware that the elaborate designs of Maori tattooing are found in any part of the Polynesian area. In certain decorative designs painted on house gables in New Guinea we note a somewhat close resemblance to the puhoro design of these isles. Other curvilinear designs of that region resemble Maori designs much more closely than do the rectilinear designs of Polynesia.
We find in various works on the Maori somewhat conflicting statements as to the age at which persons were tattooed. The remark of Dr. Savage as to children being tattooed at eight or ten years of age is a woeful error. The Maori knew
Kia pakari noa te kiri o te tangata mo te ta ki te moko—not until the skin of the person was hard or matured. Young women were often tattooed before marriage, but not so in all cases.
We are told that tattooing was practised in order to inspire terror and to obscure the advance of years, but it cannot be gainsaid that the Maori viewed it as a decoration, even as his kinsfolk of Polynesia did. Women have been the most conservative with regard to preserving the art, and we still see women with tattooed lips and chin. The men abandoned the custom of tattooing the face and body many years ago, but during the fighting against Europeans in the “sixties” of last century there was a partial revival of the custom. Some of these partially tattooed men are still living now (1921), but there no longer survives a thoroughly tattooed man so far as the writer is aware.
The observations of early voyagers show that in some districts tattooing was much more common than in others, as was the case with other arts, such as wood carving for example. It is also evident that there were certain differences in the designs employed, also the parts tattooed, owing to individual tastes. Apart from this there seem to have been, in past times, several modes of tattooing that were quite different from the scrolls and other curvilinear designs that are so well known to us. Thus Mr. White tells us of moko kuri, an ancient style of tattooing long abandoned. The face tattoo consisted of short, straight lines arranged in groups of three, some vertical, some horizontal, as shown in an illustration in Vol. 1 of White's “Ancient History of the Maori.”
Another old style of facial tattoo was seen in the northern part of the North Island by early voyagers, and this is illustrated in Parkinson's work. Colenso appears to have seen a few men so adorned in the “thirties” of last century. This design is a peculiar one and is composed of a major device resembling the puhoro pattern that seems to be super-
In addition to these obsolete styles of tattooing we have also encountered unusual designs and usages in various places from the time of Cook onward. We know of no common usage of tattooing the breast, but we have a number of isolated cases on record. Parkinson saw a man on the East Coast with a large volute and other figures tattooed on his breast. He also remarked that, in the Bay of Islands district, women were much tattooed on their “breasts, neck and bellies.” This neck and belly tattooing we know nought of from other sources. Polack speaks of persons tattooed on the breasts and hands, though in his time, the “thirties” of last century, European influence was of course possible. Angas and others remark that women were often tattooed on the breast with straight lines. Crozet (1772) states that, at the Bay of Islands, natives had an S like mark on their hands.
We have also evidence of women being marked with patterns usually confined to men. Shortland tells us of the odd appearance of a South Island woman who had one half of her face tattooed as a man's face is, and the other half left blank. She passed for both man and woman, according to which side the observer approached her from. A number of other women of the South having men's tattoo designs were
seen. Bidwill, in 1839, saw a woman at Tauranga tattooed as a man on the lower part of the body. A Ngati-Awa woman who died in 1895 had the rape, pakituri and tu designs tattooed on her buttocks, thighs and waist. In 1898 the writer saw two old women of the Tuhoe tribe whose noses and upper lips were tattooed with designs formerly employed by men. One Runa, an old woman, had an unusual design, a series of chevrons, or zigzag line, tattooed on her upper lip. D'Urville depicts a singular design tattooed on a woman's upper lip,
tu or tatua) was sometimes seen on women, as also the tauri, a name applied to anklets and bracelets. Cruise speaks of seeing a design resembling the links of a chain marked on the breast of a woman. Thomson states that women were seen with tattooed eyelids. Of this we have no corroboration, and it seems doubtful. Polack tells us that “females have sometimes a single line on the side of the nose.”
Unusual forms of tattoo among men were the straight, horizontal bars across the face seen in the South Island. Dr. Thomson mentions moko papa and moko kuri as two obsolete styles of tattoo. The Tuhoe folk speak of a four-pointed star having been sometimes tattooed in the middle of the forehead, the peculiar name of tore being applied to it. Nuku, a chief of Wai-rarapa, had a circle tattooed round each eye.
The tattooing of Tikopia Island (a Polynesian community in Melanesia) consisted of a number of short, straight lines, and this reminds us of the hatching of the old-time moko kuri of the Maori. But the origin of Maori tattooing on the whole is as yet unexplained. This question is a parallel one to that concerning the origin of the curvilinear designs met with in other branches of Maori art.
Maori tattooing was no light operation. It did not consist of a mere pricking process, a light puncturation, for the lines were deeply engraved on the subject. Tattooing as known to us leaves the skin smooth, but the native process left deep channels wherever the uhi or tattooing implement marched. This implement resembles an adze in form, that is in its style of hafting, a small blade about a quarter of an inch in width being secured to a short wooden handle in the same relative position to the handle as an adze blade is fixed. An operator employed several of these tools of varying widths, each of which had its special name. The uhi matarau had a serrated edge, while that of the uhi kohiti was plain; the latter was used for fine work. The wooden handles of these tools were often adorned with carved designs, sometimes supplemented with small pieces of Haliotis shell.
The tattooing implement is sometimes alluded to as the uhi a (of) Mataora, and as the uhi a toroa. A much-favoured
(toroa). They were also fashioned from human bone. Certain writers have told us that wood, stone and shell were also used in making them, but I am not aware that any specimens of such materials have been preserved. Iron was occasionally used in late times. Colenso states that the spines of Discaria were sometimes employed for the purpose.
As to the pigment employed it was made from soot obtained by burning certain substances—the gum of the kauri pine in the far north, the hard resinous heart wood of white pine in many districts, in some the dried body of what is termed the vegetable caterpillar. As these substances were burned the soot was carefully collected and preserved, and this awe or soot is usually called kauri.
The fire for burning the material was known as the ahi kauri, and in many cases it was kindled in what was termed
rua ngarehu. This was a hole excavated in sloping ground, and a vertical hole or shaft at the inner end of the excavation served as a chimney and induced draught. In this shaft were suspended panicles of toetoe, a species of Pampas grass, on which the soot was deposited. In some cases a mat or other article was used in place of the panicles. The collected soot was wetted with some plant sap, or water in which hinau bark had been steeped, then formed into balls and preserved for future use. Some buried these balls to prevent them becoming too dry. They would be wrapped in the skin of a rat or bird. When required for use a portion would be pulverised and rendered fluid with sap of some plant or berry, as of the mahoe or Cordyline. The Tuhoe folk say that a gummy substance that exudes from the hinau tree was put in the pigment in order to prevent any fading of the tattoo; possibly it deepened the colour.
Accounts left by early writers do not agree as to the native method of tattooing, and it is quite possible that more than one mode of procedure was employed, as in different districts. As explained to the writer, and as seen by him, the practice was to first mark the design on the skin with a black pigment, such as charcoal and water, and then came the puncturing process. The operator had his pigment contained in a shell. Into this he dipped the blade of the uhi or tattooing chisel, which he then placed on the line to be marked and struck the back of the wooden handle near its outer end a smart tap with a small stick, or a piece of fernstalk. The effect was to cut right through the skin into the flesh, and at once blood commenced to flow freely. This the operator was constantly wiping away with some flax tow. It was this shedding of the blood that made the operation such a tapu one, and hence both operator and subject were under many restrictions during the performance of the task.
The pain caused by this severe method of tattooing is intense as the work proceeds, and so also is the inflammation produced by it. Hence the tattooing of a man was a lengthy process, often extending over years. A considerable number were fully tattooed, a few indulged in but a few designs. To fully tattoo a man's face was a serious undertaking, so covered
The act of tattooing was not performed in a dwelling house, but outside, or in a temporary hut on the outskirts of the village. The person operated upon lay down, and the artist sat down to his work. As the work proceeded the relatives of the sufferer assembled and sang songs that were supposed to soothe him and enable him to bear the pain with equanimity. Such songs are alluded to as whakawai tānga moko. When the expert commenced his task he recited a charm when he struck the first blow on the tattooing implement. At the conclusion of the adorning of a young man a priestly expert would recite a charm called atahu over him, and this was supposed to have the effect of causing women to admire him. The spot where a person of rank was tattooed might be held tapu for generations.
When the operator had completed his task then a priestly expert would lift the tapu from the proceedings and persons. A part of this ritual consisted of the kindling of a sacred fire, termed the ahi parapara, and the cooking of food for a ceremonial feast.
A tattooing artist was paid for his services in kind. He received presents such as finely-woven garments, prized ornaments, etc. Occasionally a person was slain to add eclat to the tattooing of a young woman of rank; probably a slave would be slain, and the flesh of the hapless victim would be the principal dish of the ritual feast. Among the east coast folk such a sacrifice was alluded to as a toro ngarehu, while the Tuhoe people bluntly termed it a putu kai (
The tattooing of the lips of a young woman of rank, or tānga ngutu as it was termed, was viewed as quite an important ceremony. In some cases the piercing of the ears (pokanga taringa) of such a girl was also made much of in a ceremonial
A design called hotiki was occasionally marked in the middle of a woman's forehead. Cruise speaks of northern women having marks above the eyebrows which may or may
not refer to the above design. Savage speaks of a semicircular figure over each eyebrow of northern women. The Rev.
The Maori woman did not tattoo the tongue as some Hawaiian women did, but we are told that the men occasionally did so, though it was evidently a very rare occurrence. Women were occasionally tattooed on the private parts, and this was a custom among Fijian women. It was alluded to as a tara whakairo.
A few Europeans have been tattooed by the natives after their own fashion, but such cases occurred early in last century. The first case of a European being so treated occurred at Queen Charlotte Sound during Cook's third voyage, when a sailor underwent a partial adornment.
Tattooed heads of enemies were sometimes carefully dried and preserved by the Maori, who rejoiced in having such objects to jeer at. When early European voyagers began to touch at New Zealand ports these gruesome objects commanded a ready sale. When supplies ran out the fertile mind of the Maori was at no loss to meet the demand, for he simply fell back on his supply of slaves, and sold their heads. If any chanced to be papatea, white or clear faced, i.e. not tattooed, that matter was soon attended to, and the head put on the market with marvellous despatch. These heads are yet to be seen in museums the world over.
Occasionally a native would have his tattooed designs renewed in later life, a freshening process termed tarua and purua.
The development and use of the scroll or loop coil in Maori tattooing and wood carving is very remarkable, and it was certainly not introduced from Polynesia. It was a device employed in New Guinea, and also in Borneo, where it was used as a tattooed design.
Origin of houses and wood carving—Rua and Tangaroa—Two styles of houses—Tapu of houses—Houses never repaired—Tapu of house building—Superior houses—The whare whakanoho—Importance of ridgepole—How the frame timbers were clamped home—The mimiro apparatus—Decorative work on walls—The roof—Thatching—Doors—smoke vents or windows—Interior of house—No furniture in a native house—Carved designs of superior houses—Maori decorative art is curvilinear—Polynesian designs are rectilinear—Decorative painting—Some designs in native carving—The spiral—Three-fingered hands—The manaia—The marakihau—The pihanga—Roof pitches—Ordinary huts—Whare puni—Sleeping houses with excavated floors, and earth covered—Pit dwellings—Wharau or sheds—Houses named—Cooking sheds—Artistic hewing—Elevated storehouses—Elaborately carved pataka—Ceremonial opening of new buildings—Small elevated stores, etc.—Elevated platforms, stages and racks—Pit stores—Artificial caves as storage places—Pits for storage of water—Latrines.
According to native myth the knowledge of building houses was brought down from the heavens by the primal offspring, and so dwellings became known on earth. The origin of carving in wood is assigned to one Rua, but Rua of the many names is really the personified form of knowledge in its many forms, as also its acquirement and diffusion.
Now when Rua paid a visit to Tangaroa once upon a time he found him rejoicing over the completion of his house, which was a whare whakairo, that is a house adorned with decorative designs. Rua was much astonished to find that the decorative work of the house consisted merely of painted patterns; there was no carved work. Hence he told Tangaroa to pay him a visit, and he would see some real carving, not merely painted patterns. When Tangaroa did so, and approached the house of Rua, he saw two men standing in front of the house, one in front of the lower end of each barge board, apparently to re-
The art of employing painted designs is said to have preceded the knowledge of wood carving and tattooing. The painted designs used on houses were known as tuhituhi and hopara makaurangi. When the knowledge of incised carving on wood was acquired it was called whakairo rakau. East coast myths attribute carving to one Rua-i-te-pukenga, who introduced the art into this world, having acquired it in the realm of Rangi-tamaku, the second of the twelve heavens, counting upward. Rongo also acquired his knowledge of carving and carved designs from the house Wharekura in that celestial realm. When he constructed his own house he used Koururu (personified form of the owl) as a sacred offering, and buried his body under the rear wall of the house. The Maori tells us that this is the reason why carved figures have large glaring eyes; they are the eyes of Koururu.
The Matatua folk speak of one Rauru as having been an originator or introducer of the art of carving. Another tradition states that, in olden times, a man named Rauru made a voyage to a far land named Wairua-ngangana and brought back the taro plant with him. Another old story is to the effect that one Hura-waikato was the first wood carver, and that it was he who embellished the house of Rua with carved designs.
The word whakairo, so commonly used to denote carvings, does not carry that sense, but simply means a design; wood carving is properly expressed by the term whakairo rakau, as tattooing is whakairo tangata, and designs woven in garments whakairo kakahu.
We hear much of the superior houses of the Maori, the carefully framed buildings adorned with carvings, painted devices and ornamental panels, but little of the common huts of the ordinary people, in which so many lived. Broadly speaking, Maori houses and huts may be divided into two forms—A, carefully fitted houses constructed of wrought timbers, with or without embellishment; B, huts constructed of
whare whakairo or house embellished with various decorative designs, and the whare puni class, carefully built houses but unadorned or with but few evidences of decorative art; plain side posts instead of carved ones. Of the B type we have to note small dwelling huts and cooking sheds, while wharau is a term used to denote a shed, a rude shelter erected by travellers, and also a long, narrow shed in which canoes were kept. Whare is the common generic term for a house or hut.
There was ever a certain amount of tapu pertaining to dwelling houses, more especially to those of persons of importance. This fact had some very peculiar effects, and some of these we have already noted in the objection to eating meals in a dwelling house and certain superstitions connected with sickness. Again the Maori had a curious objection to repairing a house, more especially the roof thereof; he preferred to build a new house when the old one began to leak. In the early days of intercourse with Europeans natives lodged white travellers in rude sheds in many cases, lest they violate the tapu of better houses. Nicholas (1814) tells us that native hosts wished him to eat a meal outside, though heavy rain was falling at the time.
The tapu of a new house is of a different nature, and is, or was, even more stringent than that of an occupied house. For a house in course of construction is placed under the care and control of the gods, and great care has to be taken that no act is committed that will give offence to those gods, or trouble will visit the house, its builders or inmates—this because the gods have withdrawn their protection. No woman was allowed in or near a superior house in course of construction. Such an untoward occurrence would be followed by lack of energy, listlessness on the part of the workmen, and probably the house would never be finished. Nicholas tells us that he saw a man eating his food without touching it with his hands, gnawing it on the ground as a dog might, though in a more clumsy manner. Enquiries produced the explanation that this man was tapu because he was engaged in building a
tapu in this manner.
It is, according to native belief, a most unlucky act to prepare a site for a new house and then abandon it for another. It is an unwarrantable interference with the body of the Earth Mother; also builders must work continuously at a house, and attend to nothing else until the house is finished.
We will now note how a superior house, a whare whakanoho, or house of wrought timber, properly fitted together, was built. Having levelled the site the four corners of the oblong building were marked by means of stout pegs driven firmly into the earth, those marking the rear end of the house being first inserted. This rectangular space was squared by means of measuring the diagonals. The cord employed is termed a taura tieke. A cord was carried right round the rectangular site outside the four pegs, and, when stretched taut, this cord served as a guide in aligning the wall posts of ends and sides, as also the posts erected at the front and rear walls to support the ridgepole.
The entrance of the common form of native house is at one end, but the front wall is not flush with the outer ends of the side walls; it is carried back so as to leave a porch in front, the depth of which depends upon the size of the house. In a small hut it may be 3ft. deep; in a large house perhaps 10 or 12ft. In many cases this porch end, or roro as it is termed, was slightly narrower than the rest of the building. The front wall was, in at least some districts, made slightly wider than the rear wall, this discrepancy being denoted by the terms koha and hau. The rear wall site was first marked off and the same measure used for the front wall, to which was added the koha of four or five inches. The koha or hau was measured by finger breadths, termed tuma in this instance. Thus one might say: “Kia rima tuma te hau o te whare.” (Let the discrepancy in width of the house be five fingers.) Another koha was seen in the slightly increased height of the post that supported the ridgepole at the front wall. This front post was from one to three hands breadths higher than the corresponding post at the rear wall. This was to facilitate the escape of smoke which drifted along the ridgepole to the
koropihanga or aumanga, a small aperture immediately below the ridgepole.
A house was generally described in maro or fathoms as regards size. A house ten fathoms long would be an unusually long one, and this would be a superior house used largely for ceremonial and social meetings. A house of the whare puni type of about twenty to thirty feet in length was deemed a much more comfortable place.
A native house depended for stability on the ridgepole. The side posts were not designed to bear the weight and thrust of the roof, hence the ridgepole and its supporting posts were baulks of a considerable size, hewn into shapely form with much labour. The rear post for the ridgepole, the pou tuarongo, was erected in the middle of the rear wall, while the pou tahu was in the middle of the front wall. If a large house, a third supporting post for the ridgepole (tahu and tahuhu) was set up in the middle of the house; this is the pou tokomanawa. The ridgepole projected out over the deep porch without any support outside the front wall. The manner of erecting the heavy posts and still heavier ridgepole has already been described.
The walls of our superior house were composed of wide, flat slabs or planks (poupou) of hewn timber set in the earth, while the spaces between these slabs were lined with decorative panels to be described anon. The roof was supported by massive hewn rafters, the lower ends of which were fitted into the upper ends of the poupou, the mortice hole made to receive them being a square one, called waha paepae, or semicircular, termed whakarua whetu. It is noted that rafters of such houses are often curved somewhat, not straight hewn, the convex side being uppermost. The upper ends of the rafters were so fashioned as to fit against the ridgepole, being provided with a shoulder. The ridgepole was, in some districts, secured to its supporting posts by strong ties of aka or vines that fitted into channels on the posts. In some districts we are told that they were hollowed to accommodate the curve of the under part of the ridgepole. No form of nail was known: lashings supplied their place.
The poupou, or side posts, were not quite vertical, but inclined inward a little, while outside each was a firmly set strut, called the pou matua, that served as a brace against the roof thrust. There was nothing in the form of a stout wall plate, merely a light plank, the kaho matapu, that was secured to the upper ends of the poupou on the outer side. Battens to support the roof were not lashed to the rafters as in common huts, but simply lay on them. They were kept in position by a strong, flat rope, plaited in the whiri papa style that lay on the upper side of each rafter. The lower end of this rope was secured to the pou matua, and a double turn was formed with it round each batten (kaho). This was continued up to the ridgepole over which the rope was passed and led down the upper side of the corresponding rafter (heke), on the other slope, hitched round each batten as before. Having been carried down to the wall it was strained taut by the mimiro process and secured to the pou matua. In at least some cases a light piece of timber was secured over the battens and immediately over the rafter; to this the battens were secured.
The rope used for the above purpose was called tauwhenua. It was made from leaves of Cordyline australis, as great strength was requisite. The great strain it was subjected to reduced it much in size. The
The walls were thatched outside with bulrushes or a coarse grass, and another layer of thatch (of toetoe—Pampas grass) outside the first layer. This is the tupuni process. The panel work of the interior walls, in the spaces between the slablike posts, was of several forms. In some houses these spaces were lined with the matured culms of Arundo conspicua (toetoe), yellow reeds called kakaho, arranged vertically. Occasionally long stalks (stipes) of the common bracken, arranged horizontally, were employed for the purpose, and, rarely, mats were so used, these being worked in some decorative designs, like floor mats.
But the most favoured style of decorative panels was that known as harapaki, tukutuku and pukiore, which may or may not have been derived from the sennit work of the Pacific region. This panel work has been described in detail by Dr. Buck in the Transactions of the N.Z. Institute, Vol. 53, p. 452. The process, termed tuitui, may be described as a kind of lacing. To the yellow culms of toetoe, arranged vertically, were tied light, thin laths of wood in a horizontal position. The latter were sometimes blackened, sometimes painted red. These horizontal laths were tied to each reed by means of narrow strips of undressed fibrous leaves, those of Phormium, Freycinetia (kiekie), and pingao (Scirpus frondosus). The last-mentioned is an orange colour, the second is white, and the Phormium was usually dyed black for this work. The decorative work consisted of the various devices in stitching that were employed, each of which had its proper name, the patterns, in different colours showing on the outer side of the horizontal laths. The general effect is peculiar and pleasing. A vertical rod fixed in the centre of the panel and cross-laced as the laths were, divided the panel into two portions. This is often absent in present-day work.
These panels were made by two persons, one being stationed on either side, and passing the stitching material through the interstices by means of a form of wooden bodkin called an au tuitui. The panel being vertical the process was an easy one, care being taken so as to make no error in the stitching, or lacing which would have marred the symmetry of the work and brought annoyance to the old-time
A peculiarity of some of the reed lining of former times was that the yellow reeds were adorned with black spirals. This was effected by means of winding strips of green Phormium leaf round them in a spiral manner, but so as to leave a space exposed. The exposed parts were then blackened by the agency of fire.
Many houses of the whare puni type had the roof lined neatly with bark, that of manuka or totara, but in the best houses it was lined with the yellow reedlike culms mentioned above. This reed lining was, at least on the east coast, generally laced together on the ground and then laid on the battens of the roof. Care was displayed in selecting good specimens of reeds, termed matariki, for this work. Immediately over each batten were placed and secured long rods, often of supplejack, to which the first layer of thatch was tied. These rods are termed karapi, and the first layer of thatch, called tuahuri, was not arranged in an overlapping manner as thatch usually is, but consisted of small bundles of bulrush arranged up and down the roof with butted ends. There was a certain side lap of these bundles, as occurs when covering a wall with such material.
Over the tuahuri was secured another series of kārapi rods to which the true thatch was tied in some cases, but in others more than one layer of pupu raupo (bundles of bulrushes) was laid on, which had to be covered by true thatch of some durable material; the bulrush will last but a short time on a roof if exposed to the weather. The word tirepa denotes the arranging of the reeds, tupuni describes the tying on of bulrushes, etc., in a perpendicular manner, as on walls, while whakaheke and tapatu denote the laying of the true thatch on the roof. Nati describes the lacing method of securing thatch. No form of thatching needle was employed on the east coast.
In laying the outer thatch a considerable amount of overlap was usual, a single tie near the upper end of the layer being sufficient. When all was laid and carefully covered along the ridge, then poles or stems of climbing plants, called tāmi when used for this purpose, were laid over the thatch and
(tarahau), and another series arranged the opposite way, placed over the first.
The roof of a house is tuanui, the side walls tara and pakitara, the rear wall is the tuarongo, and the front wall the apai.
The door (tatau) of a Maori house was not hung on any form of hinge or pintle, but slid into a recess in the wall. Doorways (whatitoka) of ordinary dwelling huts were very small, but those of superior houses were more commodious. The socalled window (mataaho, matapihi, etc.) was simply an opening in the front wall furnished with a sliding shutter resembling the door. Many term it the puta auahi, or smoke escape. We have known only one such window in a Maori house, however large that house, but in traditions are mentioned houses with as many as four windows.
The interior of a Maori house was bare and comfortless from our point of view. There was nothing in the way of furniture; the few domestic vessels used were kept in the cooking sheds. There were no seats, tables, or bedsteads, and no partition, however large the house. A clear passage ran down the centre of the house, bounded on either side by a beam of wood lying on the earthen floor. This central passage is the ihonui, awarua or kauwhanga. Between it and the wall, on either side, are the sleeping places. The occupants of these lay with their heads to the wall and feet to the central passage. No form of bedstead was used; bracken, Lycopodium, or some other suitable growth was spread on the earth; coarse mats (tuwhara) were laid over it, and over these were spread finely plaited mats called takapau. In the central passage way was the open fireplace, a small stone lined pit, in which either wood or charcoal was burned. The threshold of the doorway, called the paepae poto or paetaku, was a low one, but the outer bounds of the porch were marked by a broad wooden slab placed edgewise, and called the pae-kai-awha. The right side of the house, as you enter, near the window space, is the place of honour.
We have now to note another decorative work seen in our superior house. These consist of carved designs and painted ones. The former were, and are, seen on the poupou or slab-posts of the walls, those of the end walls, the central supporting post of the ridgepole, the outer end of the ridgepole, occasionally on rafters, door and window shutter, also on the door posts, lintel piece, window frame, and sometimes on the outer side of the outer threshold. The barge-boards and their supports are likewise adorned in this way, and a carved human figure, or head, covers the join of the barge-boards. Painted designs are seen on rafters, battens, the slim apology for a wall plate, the skirting board, ridgepole, and sometimes on the boards under the roof at the ends of the house. Also some of the parts noted as having been carved are sometimes adorned with painted designs instead. Possibly no one house ever had all the timbers mentioned carved; one sees wall posts and even barge-boards painted nowadays. The ordinary sleeping house, whare puni, had plain interior timbers, save perhaps a carved figure at the base of the central post. A few carvings might appear at the front of the house. The whare whakairo, or elaborately carved edifice was by no means common. They represented too much labour to be seen anywhere but in villages of importance.
It is not the intention of the writer to indulge in a dissertation on the subject of Maori carving; he prefers to leave the subject to be dealt with by some person having greater knowledge of the subject. The illustrations given will give readers a very good idea of old designs. In both wood carving and tuhituhi, or painted designs, it will be noted that Maori decorative art is essentially curvilinear; such is its leading characteristic. The same peculiarity is noted in Maori tattooing. The rectilinear work of his former home in Polynesia seems to have been discarded by the Maori wherever possible. He did not make this change without some good reason for so doing, and that reason must have been a local one. In order to find curvilinear designs resembling those of the Maori one has to look to the western region of Melanesia. In New Guinea and adjacent isles may be noted certain Maori arts,
taurapa design of a canoe.
Early voyagers and others remarked on the superiority of the natives of the east coast in the way of arts and manufactures. Polack, in the “thirties” of last century, noted the superiority of the carved work of the Tolaga Bay and adjacent districts to anything seen in the far north.
In many of the best specimens of Maori wood carving the observer is puzzled by the mass of close packed detail that is not always referable to the leading designs. The work is marked by grotesque figures, by involved and highly conventionalised designs, also by apparently supreme contempt for nature. The artisan seems to have endeavoured to include as much detail as possible, the result being confusion to the observer. These peculiarities are also observed in Indian sculpture.
It is a peculiar fact that the lizard is the only animal that appears in a natural form in native carving. The representations of the human figure are usually hideously grotesque, purposely so, the styles being known as wheku and kahia. The manaia, pakake, marakihau, etc., are largely fanciful. The faithful rendering of bird forms, common in Melanesian work, is not seen in Maoriland, yet the bird form was so carved at the Chatham Isles. It is a curious fact that the lizard was not so distorted.
A design highly favoured by the Maori carver is the spiral, and this appeared in decorative carving on houses, canoes, implements, etc., including the double form that the Maori knew so well how to carve with precision. The spiral was not so favoured by painters of decorative designs, but these employed many scroll-like forms and sinuous lines, as seen in the patterns delineated on house rafters. The spiral design, so common here, was not so employed in Polynesia, but reappears in western Melanesia. The double spiral is seen in decorative work on canoes in Borneo, and also in tattooing.
Another feature that attracts attention in Maori carving is the three-fingered hand pertaining to human figures. Some quaint reasons for this peculiarity have been given, but the fact is that no Maori can give the origin of it any more than he can explain the manaia and other symbolical carved designs. These three-fingered hands have been noted in many lands, and when we consider that they appear on some extremely ancient sculptures of the Babylonian region then it is well to give up seeking the origin of the usage.
A common design in the carved work of superior houses and elevated storehouses is that known as the As explained by the late Mr. A. Hamilton. See also Dr. Newman's “Who are the Maoris?” p.279.manaia, and this figure has also been much discussed. It is a figure composed of a long, slim body, a birdlike head, and an indefinite number of legs. In some cases but half the body seems to be shown; in others a manaia head merges into the arms of the human figure. All kinds of weird variations are seen. The design is frequently seen on carved lintels of houses, and two leading arrangements are noted in such work. One of these consists of a single manaia at each end of the carved plank, both facing outward. In the form called the double manaia we have a central grotesque human figure flanked by a manaia on either side. These creatures are shown as facing the central figure, and each one has its beak placed against the shoulder or ear of the human figure. This design reappears in western Melanesia in a much less conventionalised form. To find a parallel to this Pacific design we must go to India and note the myth and representations of Vishnu and the two garuda birds that represent the powers of Good and Evil. Each is shown as prompting Vishnu or Ari, though we are told that in the end the power of Good triumphs. manaia denotes a lizard. In the face of several unreliable statements that have been published concerning this peculiar design, it is well to record the fact that the Maori has no real knowledge of its origin.
The slablike wall posts of superior houses were carved into grotesque figures of human beings in many cases, and these were generally named after ancestors. The peculiar
marakihau are figures but partially human. The lower part resembles the tail of a fish, while the upper part is of human aspect, save that from the mouth protrudes a long tongue, said to be a tubular appendage of the marakihau, which is a marine creature. In olden days certain persons became transformed into such creatures after death, hence their appearance on the carved wall posts. The marakihau is credited in Maori myth with having swallowed men, and even canoes, through its ngongo or huge tubular tongue.
Wood carvings were in many cases scraped with sharpedged stone flakes in order to give them a fair surface. Occasionally, when attack from powerful enemies was feared, prized carvings were detached from buildings and concealed. We have probably this custom to thank for some fine specimens of Maori carving that have been found during draining operations in various districts.
A small image of a man called a tekoteko, was often placed at the apex of the barge-boards, or a carved human head which might be of normal form termed a ruru, or of grotesque form, styled wheku, was so used. In some cases both head and full-sized figure are seen, the former being underneath. It is worthy of note that Banks speaks of a house thirty feet in length as having been the largest seen by him.
The carved work of a dwelling house consisted largely of representations of the human figure, and such decorative work was confined to the porch and interior of a house. In the case of carved storehouses there was no carved work in the interior; it was generally confined to the porch, but sometimes was seen on the outer sides of the walls.
There was a certain amount of tapu pertaining to carving in former times, and artisans were compelled to be careful in their behaviour, lest they lose their knowledge of the art. If any of the chips from a carver's tools were used as fuel for a cooking fire then some serious misfortune would result, for it would amount to an infringement of the rules of tapu. There were many unlucky acts connected with building and carving that it was necessary to avoid.
It was apparently only in rare cases that a true human sacrifice was made in connection with a new house, though at any house opening a slave might be slain to serve as a special dish to grace the feast. We have also one or two faint memories of a human being having been buried under, or at the base of, a house post, but evidently these were not common Maori customs.
The Maori was much given to the use of the shell of Haliotis iris as eyes for his carved figures, not only those of his wood carvings, but also those of the tiki neck pendant, fashioned from nephrite that is harder than steel. He was also given to painting his carved figures in houses, etc., with a red paint made from earth, etc., impregnated with oxide of iron, mixed with shark oil.
The most conspicuous carvings of a superior house were naturally those of the barge-board (maihi) and its two supporting posts (tautiaki, etc.) In some cases we see the pakake, or whale design, carved on barge-boards, but with minor carved designs superimposed upon it. The lintel piece often shows the finest carved designs of the whole house, but a first-class storehouse may show finer carved work than any dwelling house.
We have a little proof that a form of smoke vent in the roof was used in former times. Parkinson wrote of native huts seen at Gisborne as “having a hole in the centre of the roof to let out the smoke.” That was in the 18th century, but a sketch by Angas of a house in the Aotea district also shows something of the kind, a sort of louvre in the roof projecting like a dormer window. This was in the “forties” of last century and, in this case, European influence might be suspected. The Rev. pihanga. He describes it as an opening made in the roof to admit light, having a small roof over it to keep out the rain. The amount of light so admitted would be small; it was probably a smoke vent.
The hoa, or pitch of a roof, differed to some extent in native houses, and the kāupaparu, or low pitch, is said by the
hoka or steep pitch.
The ordinary dwelling huts of the people had frames consisting of round poles and rods, but very little wrought timber was used in their construction, probably only in the small doors and window slides. Many of these huts were very small, from 8ft. x 10ft, to 10ft. x 12ft., and the diminutive doorways were about 30 inches high and 18 inches wide. Yet in some cases, a man would adorn these 30 inch door jambs with carved designs. The smallness of door and window apertures was the result of a desire for warmth in winter, for the Maori possessed no warm fabrics wherewith to protect himself from the cold. Early visitors to these shores speak of entering native huts by means of crawling. The walls of these small huts would be about two feet in height, that of the ridgepole some six or seven feet.
The framework of poles and rods of ordinary huts was tied together with strips of Phormium leaf. The thatch was of bulrushes, various sedges, rushes, or bark. These small huts were certainly weathertight, and so far desirable, but these and all forms of native houses were greatly lacking in comfort, as from our point of view. The whare puni, or sleeping houses, so much used in winter time by these scantilyclad folk, were remarkable for sunk floors, low walls, and the fact that earth was heaped up against the walls outside, and sometimes the roof also was earth covered. Crowd one of these places with people on a cold night, light a fire inside, close the small door and window slides, the only chance for ventilation, and you will soon have a foul atmosphere at about 90 degrees. Angas tells us of his coming out of such a den on a winter morning dripping with perspiration. These hothouses were from about 14 to 30 feet in length. In some cases the floor was excavated to a depth of about two feet. I have also been told that a form of pit dwelling was occasionally used in some districts, places excavated to a depth of three to four feet. These had no built-up wall, but merely had a ˄ shaped roof erected over them. The roof was covered with bark, bracken, or rushes, and then earth was shovelled over it. If procurable the floor of the pit was covered deeply with dry sand. Two
whare manuku.
We hear of a few cases in which natives dwelt in caves, but it is doubtful if such places were ever occupied in a permanent manner. Certainly travellers, fishing parties and fowlers often utilised caves and rock shelters as temporary abiding places. Dwellers in fortified villages sometimes hewed small chambers out of soft sandstone, indurated pumice, etc., but such excavations were generally utilised as storage places. Refugees and broken clans sometimes sought refuge in caves, and tradition tells us of a few cases in which such people lived in huts constructed on platforms laid on the branches of forest trees. One of these stories pertains to Mt. Egmont, one to Manakau, one to
Slabs cut from the closely matted mass of ærial roots forming the outside of the trunk of the tree fern Dicksonia fibrosa were sometimes used on the walls of houses, and the slim trunks of
Houses of the whare puni and superior types received special names, and this custom is continued in these days of sawn timber and roofing iron. They often receive the names of ancestors, or of a battlefield, or are named from some incident. When the Taupo chief
We are told that occasionally rude huts of circular form were used as cooking sheds, as at Whanganui, and the Maori has preserved faint traditions of circular huts in other lands.
The kauta or cooking sheds were comfortless and rude structures, and in fine weather open-air cooking was followed. The doorways of these places were much larger than those of dwelling huts. Dry fuel was often stacked within them and many of us have seen such places with the walls composed of
taparahi.
Natives who became tohunga whaihanga, or artisans, were extremely expert in the use of the stone adze, and house builders prided themselves on turning out neatly hewn baulks and planks. In dressing the surfaces of such timbers it was a common practice to hew the kainga kanohi, or part that would be seen when the plank was in position, in such a manner as to leave a form of pattern. In adzing off a chip the stone finishing adze (toki whakangao) formed a slight, shallow
depression, owing to the form of its cutting edge. The hewing was so executed as to leave these marks of the bite of the tool so that they gave the impression of various designs. Thus the term mamaku was applied to a design resembling the peculiar marks on the trunk of the tree fern of that name, such marks showing where fronds had formerly grown. In some cases the tool marks formed a straight horizontal row, called ngao-pae; or a vertical row, termed ngao-tu. The word ngao denotes the “bite” or mark of the stone adze, the slight depression described above. A herringbone design was also employed. The terms toro, miri, heretua, wahanui and whakahekeheke are applied to different designs and modes of dressing timber.
Several forms of store huts were used by the Maori, as also elevated platforms and pits for the storage of food products and other items. These places may be classified as follows:—
The elevated storehouse, called pataka, was widely used in these isles. It was constructed in many different sizes, from a diminutive box-like structure of two or three feet in length, supported on one post, to a large storehouse 20ft. in length supported by a number of heavy posts.
In the superior pataka, or elevated storehouses, we see the finest work of the native wood carver, as in connection with buildings. Why so much pains should be lavished on the decoration of such places it is difficult to say, but a well-constructed and elaborately carved storehouse was deemed a very desirable possession. Not only were such superior places assigned special names, but also inferior, unadorned ones, and even the semi-subterranean pit stores, were often so distinguished.
The elevation of these stores on posts was, we are told, for the purpose of foiling the rats that would otherwise have been a nuisance, though the native rat was much less persistently mischievous than the imported species. These elevated huts are a common usage far and wide across the Pacific, as far as Indonesia. As a rule pataka were of a size that demanded four supporting posts. There were several devices employed to prevent rats gaining access to the building. A favoured method was to procure an old, abandoned canoe, and cuts lengths from it to place in an inverted position on the top of the posts. Another way of foiling rats was to notch each post so as to leave a projecting shoulder that no rat could surmount—papa kiore, were used as plates, and on these were laid the longitudinal floor joists. Again a kind of bell-shaped structure of bark was secured in some cases round the posts with the same object in view. This
The superior pataka adorned with elaborate carvings showed such embellishments on the outside only, and in the porch of the structure. The doorway was small, and often cut out of a wide plank that formed the central part of the front wall of the building. Some very fine specimens of these carved storehouses are in the Auckland Museum. The ordinary elevated stores were constructed of thatch, bark, or other materials, as to both walls and roof. Superior ones had a thatched roof, but the walls were of plank. The side walls were frequently formed of wide planks, about 1½ or 2ft. in width, placed horizontally.
These elevated storehouses were used as general storage places for certain food products, but not for crops such as sweet potatoes. Dried foods, preserved birds, etc., implements, vessels, garments, etc., were kept in them. Natives kept but very few things in their dwelling huts.
When the roof of such a place was provided with neat batens covered with carefully arranged toetoe reeds and then again with neatly arranged strips of bark, it was a very presentable piece of work. In covering a roof with bark it is not secured to the battens by ties, for such a method would mean leakage, but poles are laid longitudinally on the completed roof and secured at the ends only, that is at the projecting eaves of either end. The fronds of the nikau palm were often employed as a first layer in roof covering, with the pinnæ intertwined, and a neat lining it makes. The floors of such places are formed of hewn plank. Superior pataka were, of course, not numerous, the great majority of such store houses were plain structures, or possibly having a few carved designs. The terms kokau and totokau denoted those possessing no such embellishments. The door of a pataka was the sliding plank, as seen in dwelling houses.
The vertical planks forming the front wall of a pataka were fastened together by means of lashings passed through holes bored through the planks. These ties enclosed a batten covering the join. In some cases bunches of feathers were
Superior houses were opened with much ceremony when completed, indeed it may be said that a religious performance marked the occasion. This was termed the kawanga of the house. This kawa rite removed the tapu from the building. It was marked by the recital of lengthy ritual formulæ, and by the ceremonial crossing of the threshold by a woman. During the performance the officiating priestly expert struck certain parts of the house with a branchlet of karamu, or kawakawa, or some other plant used for such purposes. Another peculiar feature of the rite was the ascending of the expert to the summit of the roof, where, standing at the front gable, he recited one of his tapu lifting formulæ.
In order to gain access to a pataka a form of portable step-ladder was used, a primitive form, for it consisted merely of a stout beam or pole with notches cut in it to serve as steps.
In some parts the term pataka seems to have been applied only to superior places, as described, while inferior ones were called whata. This term whata is applied to elevated store-houses, platforms and racks.
Small erections of the pataka type were very common, and some of them were adorned with carved designs. These hutlets were often elevated on a single tall post, and they were used for a number of purposes. In some, termed whata koiwi, and pouwaka, were preserved bones of the dead. Others, called whatarangi, were used as places of storage for small articles. In many cases lofty posts supporting such places were ascended by means of notches cut in them. Purangi, awhiorangi, and ipurangi are other names applied to these small elevated boxlike structures, the word rangi conveying the meaning of “elevated.” Some were reserved for the storage of tapu articles, including food for tapu persons. Sometimes a section of an old canoe formed the floor and sides of such small stores, or a section of a hallow log was utilised for the purpose.
Apart from these elevated storehouses and like receptacles the Maori made use of elevated platforms to a considerable extent. To these, as also to any stage-like erection, rack or
whata was applied. Thus a whata ika or tarawa is a fish-drying rack, a whata kupenga one on which nets were hung to dry out, while the modern whata kaanga is a maize crib.
The elevated platform was simply a floor constructed on beams laid across the tops of posts, or, in some cases, among the branches of trees. A favoured method was to cut the branches off a tree save a few projections and then utilise those to support a platform. These were styled timanga and komanga. On these stages various food products were placed for safety; they were particularly useful after the introduction of the potato (Solanum). They preserved other forms of food supplies from what Polack styles the “insidious affections of the dogs.” Occasionally stages and elevated storehouses were erected in the waters of a lake or other calm sheet of water, as a protection against rats. The posts of one such in Porirua Harbour, erected over 100 years ago, are still visible. It is known as the Food Store of
The pit stores of the Maori were used primarily for the preservation of the tubers of the kumara, or sweet potato. The smaller sized pits, termed rua kopiha and rua korotangi, are wholly subterranean. One descends through a form of trapdoor into a small chamber, often rectangular, sometimes circular. The orifice is just large enough to allow a person to pass down the rude step ladder, or possibly by means of utilising steps of earth left during excavation. The chamber widens out below. Many hundreds of these pits have been examined, some of which were but about four feet square, though many were larger, and of different forms. The upper part is often dome shaped. The entrance to such a pit was lined with plank or slabs of tree fern trunk, and then covered with slabs to keep out the wet. This trap door was so manipulated as to be on a slant. This form of store pit is sometimes termed a rua poka. Often a small pit such as this would be near the cooking shed, and in it would be kept supplies for immediate or day to day use, while a larger store afield would contain the bulk of the family crops.
The semi-subterranean store pits were rectangular, and differed widely as to dimensions. One may see them as small as 6ft. in length, and as long as 25ft., occasionally longer. they were oblong in form and consisted of a pit with a ˄ roof over it. One sees them on level land and sloping ground; the edge of a terrace was much favoured by makers of these rua tahuhu, as they are termed. In most cases there were no built side walls to these pits, the sides of the excavated pit formed walls, but at the ends the triangular ends of the roof were a part of the built structure. Some had a shallow form of porch at the front end. Great numbers of such old storage pits are seen in some localities.
Slabs of tree fern trunks, as of Dicksonia fibrosa, were often used to line these pits, such slabs being known as
Large store pits would accommodate the kumara crops of several families, each having its own division (tawaha) of the pit, wherein the family crop would be stacked (whakapipi) as a separate niho or stack. These stored tubers were examined periodically, lest decay spread havoc among them.
Some of the most interesting of these store pits were in the form of artificial caves excavated in hill sides, sometimes in soft sandstone, often in packed or indurated sand or pumice. Such cave stores are seen of many different forms, often ovoid, and having dome-shaped roofs. Numbers are seen in the cliffs of the picturesque Pa-teko isle in Roto-iti (lake). Many of
rua-roa or rua pongere are also seen at the old Ihupuku pa at Wai-totara.
The rua tawaero or rua whakatoke is simply a shallow surface pit lined with coarse grass, in which tubers are sometimes stored for a while. The heap of tubers would be covered with sedge and earth.
Pits for the storage of water were excavated in some of the old hill forts. They were either filled by hand or by means of conducting storm water into them.
There was one institution in the fortified village of the natives that was specially mentioned by several early writers, namely that of latrines, called heketua, turuma, taikawa, paepae, etc. In hill forts these were often situated at some steep part of the hill, or on a cliff head. They consisted of a horizontal beam, the paepae, supported by two posts, on which persons “squatted,” but did not sit. In front of this were placed stout rods or poles, inserted in the earth, to serve as hand grips. Occasionally carved designs were seen on the timbers of these places.
The whare maori, or native hut of yore, is passing away. Sawn timber and corrugated iron are now widely used. The picturesque villages and life of former times are but a memory.
Our Maori canoe has now been hauled down the skidway to the roaring chorus of the half-naked, brown-skinned tribesmen. As she takes the water, and Tane greets his offspring Hine-moana, the ceremony of Whakainu is performed, and the Kawa waka ritual recited over her. Then “Aotearoa” is manned by sturdy paddlers, and glides seaward over the heaving breast of the Ocean Maid, while grim, tattooed old descendants of the sea kings watch her lilting over the waves, with the remark: “Me te remu karoro.” And so, like that sea bird, she swings to her marks and lifts the long sea road that lies before.
On no map made by human hands is the course of “Aotearoa” marked. She will ride out the gale to her stone sea anchors when Hine-moana is awrath, and hail in summer seas the wayside isles whereat the Polynesian Vikings sojourned in
Meanwhile the launcher of our neolithic craft remains on the silent shore that is trodden of man and yet knows him not; looking forth over the old sea roads in search of the mat sails of “Aotearoa” that bears away the old comrades of a lifetime.
And memory brings back the greeting of the sea rovers of yore as they left their island homes and lined their wavering prows on the red sun, or Venus, or a low hung star—
Hei kona ra, te whanau'E!
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