Art. I.—The Mythology and Traditions of the Maori in New Zealand.
[Read before the Otago Institute, 7th April and 10th August, 1874.]
This paper has been compiled from a number of tales collected by me in the Maori language some twenty-five years ago, when there were still a few Maori alive who were acquainted with their ancient lore. About the same time, Sir George Grey, when he was the first time Governor of New Zealand, was collecting such tales from the Maori in the north. He afterwards printed his collection in the Maori language. I do not know if there is a translation of the same. I have never seen one. In cases where Sir George Grey's collections differ materially from mine, or where they can throw some light on the subject, I have mentioned it. Where the proper names in the tales bear a clear meaning in the Maori language, I have added the interpretation, but not otherwise.
Those tales could no more be collected now—at least not here in the south; for the old Maori are dead, and the younger ones have not learnt them, because the new ideas introduced by Christianity and European settlements have superseded the old Maori ideas. The tales can only have historical worth when the mythologies and traditions of other nations, from widely different parts, can be compared with them, as thereby the migration, and the archaic place where the Polynesian race may have had its growth and development, might be traced. They may also be worth reading as curiosities.
The Maori race, as it now is, seems to be in its old age; but it must once in some former time have had its youth, when, in buoyancy of spirit and yet simplicity of mind, it saw in the surrounding nature and natural phenomena beings of a higher order, to whom the national poets gave names and a history. This must have been before they came to New Zealand, as these names, and a similarity of the mythology attached to them, are to be found among the whole Polynesian race, and may likely be traced back still farther. Ethnology might be assisted if all who are in a position among uncivilized races to do so, would make themselves acquainted with their mythology and ancient tales, and then communicate the result to scientific men, who might thereby trace the development and migration of the races. Care should be taken by the collectors to furnish only the raw material, and not to mix Greek mythology or Hebrew history with it.
The ancient tales among the Maori have been handed down through many generations by word of mouth only. The tohunga, or wise men among them, told those tales over and over again, almost always in the same words, so that the younger ones, who had a mind for learning, learnt them by rote, and could impart them in the same way to a following generation. Still discrepancies would creep in, and deeds which in some localities are imputed to one personage, in others are imputed to another. But that is of no consequence. Although some tales may have been built on facts, and if even these could be stript of the fictions, which they cannot, they would not be of the least historical value, as they lie altogether outside the bounds of general history.
The heathen religion of the Maori in New Zealand had got into such confusion that no meaning could be found in it. The cause of that confusion may be found in the fact that among them, at least in former times, as well as among all Polynesians, their kings or great chiefs were regarded as divine persons already during their lifetime, and that after their death they were transformed into gods. Those among them who had been great as men, would be much feared and worshipped as gods after their death, till, in the course of time, they were superseded by new ones. Through such continual changes the original gods would be neglected in fear and worship, till at last they were only regarded as historical beings without any influence. Even the deeper meaning of their history has been lost. There are some invocations and incantations to the old gods preserved, but they are not understood now, and the wise men cannot explain them. Either the language has been much changed since they were composed, or the ancient priests clothed them purposely in obscure forms.
By religion we understand a feeling of dependency in the human mind, in the consciousness of its own weakness, on a higher being, or beings; which beings are therefore feared and worshipped. But the Maori religion had lost
its hold on the old gods altogether, and had taken hold on their living chiefs and their surrounding tapu, or sacredness. The chief persons were tapu, so was all that belonged to them; and they had the power to make anything else tapu, which then dared not be used by any person of an inferior rank, under pain of death. If such an offender was not detected and killed by men, he was sure to be killed by the invisible power of the tapu. Such power seems to have consisted of departed spirits, perhaps of inferior chiefs, who could not attain to the rank of gods, and therefore occupied desolate places, especially the ruins of chiefs' dwelling-houses.
Such of the Polynesian gods as had been kings or great chiefs could only belong to such districts in which they had influence during their lifetime; but such as are known, not only over all New Zealand, but over all Polynesia, we may regard as their original gods; and they are not many.
Part I.—The Heathen Gods of the Maori, and Allegorical Beings of the same Period.
Tangaroa is known and worshipped by the whole Polynesian race as the chief god and creator of the world. His name is also well known among the Maori in New Zealand, and occurs frequently in the ancient forms of invocations. Sometimes he might be seen for a few seconds standing on the crest of the waves of the sea, when the sun happened to shine against some misty spray, but little else is known of him. According to Sir George Grey's collection he was the son of Heaven and Earth, and was the god, or personification, of the sea and the fishes. But here in the south he is affirmed to be the uncle of Heaven, and the first husband of the Earth, whose personal name as a woman and a mother was Papatuanuku. The tale runs thus:—
Tangaroa lived with his wife Papatuanuku. Once he made a journey to Kahuipuakiaki for the treasures (or ornaments) of Whakitau (not to be confounded with Whakatau, a later person). When he came back he found that Rangi (Heaven) had taken his wife, Papatuanuku (the Earth), and was living with her. Now there was to be a fight. The two, uncle and nephew, met, each armed with a spear. Rangi threw his spear first, but missed, because Tangaroa bent aside. Then Tangaroa threw his spear, which pierced both loins of Rangi and lamed him. Then Tangaroa left his wife, the Earth, and she was henceforth Rangi's wife. This is all that is known here about Tangaroa.
The following tale bears some marks of a later period; also I cannot find the names mentioned in it among the gods of the Pacific islanders; yet, as the old Maori here told it in connection with Tangaroa, I will put it here. It runs thus:—
2. Tutakahinahina and Te Roirowhenua.
Tutakahinahina walked upon the waters. He had no parents. His wife's name was Kaihere. They had one son, called Te Roiroiwhenua. When the son was born, Tutakahinahina told his people to get in a good supply of food and firewood. Then he died, and was buried by the wall inside the house, the face downward and the back upward. The grave was fenced round. Now the sun was withheld by Kumeateao, by Kumeatepo, by Unumiatekore. Then it was dark on sea and land. The darkness was so great that no road could be seen to fetch food and firewood. The people used what there was in the house. Then they broke up in the house what they could, to keep the fire burning. At last Te Roiroiwhenua heard the voice of his father, speaking in his grave: “Here I am buried, look where the earth heaves up.” Then Te Roiroiwhenua went to the spot and listened. He heard a gnawing inside the grave; it was the maggots, gnawing at his father. Then he saw two of them crawling out of the grave inside the fence, a male and a female. He caught the male, to be roasted in an oven; but the female he let go. The oven was heated with sacred fire. Then Tamatea (perhaps identical with Tawhirimatea, the personal name of the wind) came and shook the oven. Now there came a start, and the first sign of the morning appeared. The morning advanced. First the birds sang: “Light of the day.” Then the people shouted: “Daylight.”
Some of the Maori tohunga say that Te Roiroiwhenua is identical with Tangaroa; others say he is not—only before, the Morning was with Tangaroa; but after the shaking of the oven, the Morning was with Tamatea. Perhaps the tale is a skeleton only, left of what may have been a good poem, the deeper meaning of which has been lost.
3. Rangi and Papatuanuku.
Rangi means Heaven in the common language, and is here used as a proper name, but Papatuanuku is the personal name for the Earth (te whenua). These two were not worshipped as gods, but were regarded as the parents of all visible nature.
Rangi, having been lamed in the duel with his uncle, could no longer stand upright, and had, therefore, to lie always flat on the earth. The consequence was a still darkness; no wind could blow, no light could shine. Not-withstanding they had many children. Most of them were cripples; some had crooked, drawn-up legs, some had stiff stretched out legs, and other deformities; however, a few had sound limbs. The most conspicuous among the latter was Tane; also Paiao (Cloud), Tawhirimatea (personal name of the Wind), deserve to be mentioned. In Sir George Grey's collection, the following children of Heaven and Earth are named:—
Tangaroa the personification of the fishes
Rongomatane """ kumara
Haumiatiketike """ fernroot
Tanemahuta """ trees and birds
Tawhirimatea """ wind
Tumatauenga """ mankind.
The children felt very inconvenient in that close darkness, and the more able ones among them held a consultation of what to do, in order to gain light and liberty. Some were for killing their father; others proposed to lift him up, and there let him live as a stranger to them. The counsel of the latter prevailed. After this they set to work. First Paiao (Cloud) tried, but could not lift him. Then Tane tried, with no better result. Then they tried all together; but Heaven was too heavy for them. At last Tane put his head on the ground and stretched his legs upward. That succeeded. Rangi cried and lamented that he was ill-treated by his children; but they carried him up, and then Tane fixed him.
It seems that Tawhirimatea (the Wind) took no part in this movement, but rather that he had opposed it from the beginning, counselling to let things remain as they were. This seems rather strange of such a restless fellow as the Wind; but the northern natives, according to Sir George Grey's collection, account for this by saying that Tawhirimatea was a quiet, loving boy before, but that, when he was outvoted by his brothers, and Heaven and Earth were separated against his will, he became dissatisfied and restless. He followed his father heavenward, and talked to him about the injuries he had received from his children, and then came down again, fighting with his brothers from all quarters of the heavens.
When Heaven had been carried up, and Tane had fastened him, and then come down again to the earth, he (Tane) looked up to his father; but the old man looked dark and sad. Then he went to Okehu, to fetch ornaments for his father. With this he put on him a bright polish. When he came down again and looked up, he thought his father did not yet look so good as he ought to; so he fetched more ornaments, and with these he drew the Milky way, painted the Magellan Clouds, and set the constellations. This done, he came down again to see how that did suit his father. Now he looked handsome.
Now Tane looked at his mother, who was still void of ornaments. So he raised some of her crippled children, and put them upright, as trees. First he put their legs downward and their heads upward, and then went aside to look at them. But the trees did not look well in that position, standing on their branches, with their stumps and roots as heads and hair, up. Then he took them up again, and put their heads down and their legs, the branches, up; and went again aside to look. Now they looked good; now both parents were adorned with beauty.
Though Rangi and Papatuanuku have now been long separated, yet their love toward each other continues. Her sighs out of her bosom may be seen ascending up to Heaven in the vapoury mist that rises from the wooded mountains; and Heaven weeps his tears of love down upon her in dew-drops.
All over Polynesia, Tane was held to be a great god, next to Tangaroa. In New Zealand he superseded Tangaroa in importance. The word Tane, in the present language, means man or male; but I do not know if the name indicates any meaning. His full name was Tane nui o Rangi (Great Tane of Heaven). In Sir George Grey's collection he is called Tane Mahuta, and there he is made the god, or personification, of trees and birds. There are also indications here, in the south, of his having had to do with woods and forests, but a great deal more with the origin and final destiny of mankind.
When Tane had separated Heaven and Earth (his parents), and adorned each with becoming beauty, and was now at his leisure, he wandered about among trees and birds to find a wife for himself; but found none. Turning to his mother for advice, she directed his attention to Hinehaone, a maid formed out of the soil. With her he had one daughter, called Hineatauira (Maid of the glistening Morning). After this, the mother, Hinehaone, is lost sight of, and when the daughter, Hineatauira, grew up, she became Tane's wife, without her knowing that he was her father. They had several children, the names of which indicate a drawing toward death, corruption, and the world of night.
Once Tane made a journey to the heavens, to visit his elder brother Rehua. Who, or what, this Rehua may have been I cannot find out, except that he dwelt in the tenth strata of the heavens. When Tane came to the first heaven, he called up: “Are there men above?” The answer was: “There are.” “May I come up? “No, this is the heaven that has been stretched out by Tane.” Still Tane went up, and onward, till he came to the second heaven, when he again called up: “Are men above there?” “There are.” “May I come up?” “No, this is the heaven that has been painted by Tane.” Still he went up, and onward, till he came to the third heaven, when again he called up: “Are there men above there?” “There are.” “May I come up?” “No, this is the heaven the bounds of which have been fixed by Tane.” So he went on through other strata, till he came to the tenth heaven, where he found Rehua. When the two met, they both sat down to have a cry together. Rehua cried simple, but Tane cried, with a meaning, in verses. The verses are hard to be understood, and, if translated, would not carry with them the poetical beauty they bear in Maori. They begin as if he had met Rehua cultivating the soil; and are then to the effect that the ground is cleared, carpeted, and beautified by the cultivator, which adds to the splendour of
Heaven; and then end: “Whatever be thy name, it was Tane who has set the Heaven.” Hereby Tane made himself known to Rehua.
When Rehua had learnt, by the crying, that his visitor was the great Tane, he had a fire made, and empty vessels brought. Tane wondered where the food was to come from. Presently Rehua untied his head, and shook out of his hair a lot of birds, tuis, into the empty vessels, and then had the birds killed and cooked. But Tane did not eat of them, because it is against the tapu religion for an inferior to eat anything that has been in contact with the body of a superior, and Rehua is called Tane's tuakana, which means either an elder brother, or a descendant from, an elder branch of a house. Then Tane asked: “Cannot I catch some birds?” “Yes,” answered Rehua, “when the trees bear fruit and the birds feed on it; when the wind blows and their throats get dry, and they fly to the water to drink, then snare them.”
There is more of the tale of this sort, as when Tane went to another place in that region, where people lived on rats and were out rat-catching; but I can see no meaning in it. In Sir George Grey's collection, this sort of tale is attributed to a visit of Rupe to Rehua. Now Rupe is a different person from Tane, and belongs to a later period. Also this catching and cooking of birds and rats seems to indicate a later period than that of the gods. But the following is more godlike again:—
While Tane was absent, Hineatauira asked her mother-in-law (the Earth): “Where is my husband?” “What!” replied Papatuanuku, “thy husband! he is thy father.” When she heard this she felt so much ashamed that she took leave of her mother-in-law, and went away to the world of night below.
When Tane came home again from his journey to the heavens, he asked his mother: “Where is my wife?” “Thou hast no wife any more,” was the reply; “she is gone to the Po (world of night).” Then Tane also went down to the nether world, to bring her up again, if possible. There he wandered about for a long time in a lone, dim, shadowy night. At last he came to a house, but saw no living being. All was still. He spoke toward the pillar of the house, but received no answer; he spoke toward the gable of the house, but received no answer. Then, when he went confused and ashamed along the wall of the house, he heard some one inside the house, calling out to him: “Where, Tane, art thou going?” “I am following our sister,” he replied. Then that one inside said:—
"Go back, Tane, to the world of light,
To train up our children.
Leave me here, in the world of night,
To draw down our children.”
"E hoki, e Tane, ki te ao,
Hei whakatupu i a taua hua.
Tukua au ki te Po,
Hei kukume i a taua hua.*
[Footnote] * Hua, literally, means fruit.
We now come to a strange person—not a god, and not like other men, neither good nor yet absolutely bad; but always dealing in mischief and wicked practical jokes. It is certainly an ancient personage, for itself and its deeds are known and talked of by the whole Polynesian race. The word maui, in the present language, means left, or left-handed; but I do not know if any meaning has been intended by this proper name. Maui's father's name was Raka, or Ranga, his mother's Hina, according to the southern Maori; in the north they give them different names. The following names of their children are mentioned: Maui-mua (maui before); Maui-roto (—inside); Maui-waho (—outside); Maui-taha (—at the side); and Maui-potiki (—the youngest of a family). The last one is our hero; he only is simply called Maui; the brothers are distinguished by their adjectives.
Maui, at his birth, was such a shapeless lump that his mother wrapped him in a rag and cast him into the thorn bush. There he was found and nursed by his ancestors, Mu and Weka (names alluding to wingless birds in the bush). According to Sir George Grey's collection, as told by the Maori in the north, she cast him among the kelp on the sea-beach, where he was washed about by the tide among the seaweeds, the sea-birds screaming over him, till he was found and nursed by his ancestor, Tamanuikiterangi (great Tama, or Son, toward Heaven). After he had been nursed into a child's shape, he was taken up and trained by Aonui, Aoroa, Aopouri, and others, all names which allude to phenomena in the sky. Here, for mischief's sake, he put snow on the cultivation of one Marutewareaitu, and injured it. Then Marutewareaitu put caterpillars on Maui's cultivation, which destroyed it. Then Maui waylaid Marutewareaitu and killed him. The wise men among the Maori admit that they have lost all meaning about this tale. There is more about it in that region, but all is confused and meaningless. After this, Maui was sent home to his parents.
When he came to the place of his parents' house, he found his brothers outside, playing at throwing spears at a mark. Maui joined their sport, and then threw his spear at the gable of the house with such force that one of the gable boards came down with a clattering noise to the ground. Upon this the mother rushed out of the house, scolding her children for destroying the house. “We have not done it,” said they, “it is that boy there,” pointing at Maui. “Whose boy are you?” asked the mother. “Your own,” answered Maui. “No, you are not,” she replied; “these are my children; you are a stranger.” “That may be,” said Maui, “yet I am your son. You wrapped me in a rag, and cast me in a thorn bush. My ancestors have nursed me into life and shape, and have brought me up.” Then his mother remembered. She
now recognised him, cried over him, and then kept him by her with her other children.
Maui had now found his mother and brothers, but he had not yet seen his father. At night, when they were all in bed, and all was dark, he heard that his father was in the house, and that his mother was telling him of himself, their castaway son, who had come home alive. Next morning, when it was daylight, his father was gone. He asked his brothers where their father was, but they could not tell him; they seemed to be so used to his mysterious absence that they felt no curiosity about it. When he asked his mother, she did not answer him. This made him curious, and he resolved to find out the mystery. Next night he kept awake, but pretended to be asleep. By and by he heard, in the dark, that his father was in the house again, that he untied his maro (that piece of cloth which savages wear round their loins), folded it up, put it aside, and then went to bed. When all were asleep, Maui got softly up, took his father's maro, and hid it. In the morning, just before daybreak, his father got up and felt for his maro, but could not find it. While he was thus delayed by seeking, daylight appeared, and then he hastily moved a post of the house, and disappeared below it. Maui waited till all were up and out of the house, then he moved the post, as he had seen his father do, and discovered a subterranean passage below. He put the post in its place again, and said nothing about it.
That day he was going with his brothers to the woods to spear pigeons. He asked his mother for some oil, which he took with him; he also took some charcoal. When they came to the bush, then he anointed his limbs with oil, to make them pliable. Then he drew his feet into the shape of pigeons' feet, and stroked his arms into wings; his lips he drew into the shape of a pigeon-beak, and so on till his whole body resembled that of a pigeon. Then he tied the maro of his father round his neck and let it hang over his chest, and then finished off with the charcoal to imitate the shades of the colours of a pigeon. Now he could fly up the trees, and the pigeons were not afraid of him, and he could catch as many as he wished. When they came home, Maui had a large bundle of sound pigeons, while his brothers had only two or three each, much lacerated by spear wounds. Next night he heard his mother telling his father about him, that he was such a good boy; had brought home such a load of pigeons, and not at all lacerated by spear wounds.
Another day Maui thought he would explore the subterranean passage through which he had seen his father disappear. So he moved the post and went in. As he went along the passage widened, and then he came to an open place, in the distance of which he saw men at work in the field. Now he made himself again into the shape of a pigeon, took, in his flight, two or three circles
round the field, and then perched upon a low tree near the men at work. “There is a pigeon for us,” called one of the men, and then took a snare, fastened on a rod, to slip it over its head. But the pigeon flew away to another tree when he came near, and so on, till, by the voice and appearance, he had recognised his father and then flew and perched upon the pole-like tool (ko) with which his father was turning up the ground, and cooed to him. Then his father said, “Thou art not a real-bird; thou art a man from the world above.” The pigeon nodded its head (backward, as was the custom of the Maori formerly), and flew down to the ground, changing at the same time into his natural shape of man. Then they had a cry together. The father cried without meaning, but the son cried in verses (I do not understand them), and thereby made himself known to his father as his castaway son. After this they went to a house together in that region.
In the neighbourhood of that place there dwelt a grandmother of Maui, of his mother's side, called Mahuika, who was the keeper of the fire. Now it happened one day that the fire had gone out; and as the servants were lazy and did not move when told to go to Mahuika to fetch fire, Maui offered to go. When he came to the place, the old woman said, “What has brought you, a stranger, here? Was it the wind, that blows against my skin?” But when Maui told her that he was her grandson she became very friendly, and willingly gave him a stick of fire—namely, one of her fingers. Maui went away with it, but extinguished it, when out of sight, in the nearest water. Then he went back and asked her for another stick of fire, saying the first was gone out. So she gave him another of her fingers, which he likewise extinguished, and so on, till he had carried away all her fingers and her toes, up to the last little toe. Then the old woman perceived that he was mocking her, and became very angry, by which she raised a great blast to burn him. But Maui quickly transformed himself into an eagle and swung himself up to the clouds. From thence he sent down rain upon the fire to quench it. Mahuika stirred up her fire to make it burn. Maui poured down large drops of rain upon it to quench it. Mahuika raked together her fire to keep it alive. Maui showered down thick snow upon it to extinguish it. At last, when the old woman saw that she could not keep her fire alive, she cast the rest into trees; in some it stayed, in others not, out of which former it can still be got by rubbing.
After this, when Maui had put himself again into his natural human shape, he went back to the place of his mother and brothers. In that neighbourhood there lived a grandfather of his, to whom his brothers carried the food when the mother had cooked it. The brothers had got tired of that work, so Maui offered to carry the food. But he only carried it behind the house, and there left it, and so let the old man die. After some time he went
into the hut of his grandfather, his name was Murirakawhenua, to see how he was, and found the old man dead. One side was still fresh, but the other was decayed. Maui broke out the jawbone, took it to the water, and cleansed it under incantation to make it into a charmed fishhook, and then hid it.
In Sir George Grey's collection there is this difference about this same tale, that Murirakawhenua was not a grandfather, but a grandmother, and that she was not dead when Maui went to her hut, but only angry, and first swelled herself to swallow him, but became friendly when she heard that he was her grandson, and that she gave him her jawbone with a good will.
Maui being always up to some mischief, his brothers had become quite afraid of him, and would not let him go out with them on the sea to fish. But having provided himself with a line, and having the jawbone of his ancestor in his possession for a fishhook, he went in the night into the canoe and hid himself in the basket with the fishing lines. Early in the morning his brothers came and launched the canoe, and paddled out to the fishing ground. Then, to their astonishment and dismay, they found Maui under the fishing-tackle. Some said he should be put on the shore again, but others said he might remain in the canoe, but should have no hook. By and by Maui said, “I am provided with hook and line, only give me a bait.” But that was refused him. Then he pulled his own nose till it bled, and when the blood had clotted he put it on his hook (the jawbone), and let his line down. It soon fastened, and then there was such a commotion in the sea that even the mother felt it on shore, and exclaimed, “There, the boy is at his mischief again!” The brothers screamed for fright, “Maui, let go thy fish; let go, it is a monster.” But Maui very calmly said, “This is the fish I have come to catch,” and kept on pulling up. When he had got it to the surface it proved to be the bottom of the sea; but it was just like any other land. There stood houses and whatas; the fires smoked, the dogs barked, and the people talked.
It is also said that Maui took a wife, the daughter of Tuna (eel) and Repo (swamp), and that he cut his father-in-law into two parts; the tail swam to the sea, and became the sea-eel, and the head swam up the fresh-water courses, and became the fresh-water eel.
Now it happened that the Sun got lazy; he got up late in the morning, then went badly over his course, and went to rest again early in the evening. Maui would not allow that; for when his wife began to heat the oven in the morning, it was night again before the food was done, and he had to eat his dinner in the dark. So he persuaded his brothers to assist him to catch the Sun, when he would make him do his work properly. Having provided themselves with a long and strong rope, they went in the night to the mouth of the cave, through which the Sun comes forth in the morning. Here they
made the rope into a noose, and laid the same round the opening of the cave. Then Maui stood on one side, holding one end of the rope, and his brothers stood on the other side, holding the other end. Maui told them to let the Sun get his head fairly through, and then, when he called out, to pull with all their might, but not before. When they, had thus stood for awhile, there came first a glimmer, then a fiery redness. Then the fiery hair of the Sun, all standing on end, appeared through the opening, and after that the head and glowing face came up. When the head was so far up that the noose could catch the neck, then Maui called out to pull; and the Sun was caught. Now Maui beat him for his laziness, and the Sun cried, “Maui, let me go. Maui, why dost thou beat me? Maui, let me go.” At last, when the Sun had honestly promised to rise earlier in the morning, and to set later in the evening, and to run his course properly, Maui let him go.
After this Maui went to see his sister—for it appears that he had a sister. Her husband's name was Irawaru. Maui became disgusted with him, because he was a greedy man at meals. One day, when they had eaten, Maui said to him, “Come out with me; pick over my head.” So the two went out; Maui laid down, and Irawaru picked over his head. Then Maui said, “Now lie down; let me do your head.” While Maui's fingers went through Irawaru's hair, the latter fell fast asleep. Then Maui pulled his ears to the length and shape of dogs' ears; then he pulled the mouth and jaws to a dog's face, and so all over the body, limb by limb, not forgetting to pull out a tail behind; till he had transformed him into a dog. After that, he went a little way off, and then called him as a dog is called. Then Irawaru got up and showed all the manners of a dog. When Maui went into the house, his sister asked him, “Where is your brother-in-law?” “Outside; call him.” His sister did so, but her husband did not come. “Call him as a dog is called,” said Maui. “My husband a dog!” said his sister, feeling hurt. Nevertheless, she called at last with a sound as if calling a dog; and then her husband came, transformed into a dog, wagging his tail and whining round her. “O, Maui,” cried his sister, “thou didst not consider that he was thy brother-in-law.” She then sat down on the ground and cried a long and touching wail, and then went into the sea to drown herself. However, it seems that she was not drowned, but washed on a distant shore, where she was revived; and then there is another story about her, but it seems to belong to a later period.
Even Maui's death was attended with nonsensical mischief. He would try to get back out of the world, by the Goddess of Death, Hinenui o te Po (Great Maid of the World of Night,—identical with Hineatauira, her former name), as children are born into it; but that is not interesting to civilized people.
Part II.—The Period of the Ancient Heroes.
The following tales are so well connected with one another that they seem to rest on an historical foundation. I am inclined to think that they refer to a period when the ancestors of the Maori race were migrating among the East Indian Islands, or thereabout, where they must have come in contact with such different races as these tales show they have, and that the ugly people spoken of as belonging to the whale kinds may have been tribes of the Negro race. The dwellings in the sky, mentioned in these tales, will easily be understood to mean islands lying beyond the visible horizon, where the sky and ocean appear to meet.
1. Kaitangata and Whaitiri.
Kaitangata means a man-eater; but this formidable name had nothing to do with his character: on the contrary, Kaitangata was a simple, harmless, man; but there was a woman, named Whaitiri (Thunder), who dwelt in the sky, and who was very fond of human flesh. When she heard that there was a man on earth called Kaitangata, she believed him to be a real cannibal, and therefore came down and took him to her husband; but was disappointed, when she afterwards found that he was such a simple man.
Kaitangata's time was mostly occupied in fishing, to provide for their daily food; but he caught very little, and often came home without any fish because his hooks were not barbed. He was either too simple to understand his wife, who wanted to teach him better; or her designs were too wicked, and he was too good, to adopt them. At last she made a net for herself; and one day while her husband was out fishing, she saw a canoe passing by, with two men in it. Having armed herself with a stone weapon, and taking her net, she went and swam toward the canoe, now diving, now coming to the surface again. When the two men saw her they wondered if it were a bird or a human being. She had now reached the canoe and was diving under it. One of the men took a spear to have a thrust at her; but while he was bending over she came suddenly up and struck him with her weapon, ripping him quite open, when he fell into the sea and she caught him in her net. Now the other man tried to spear her, but met with the same fate as his companion. Then Whaitiri swam back to the shore, dragging her net behind her. She left the net in the water and went home and told the women there to go and fetch home the fish she had caught. By this time her husband had also come home and, as was often the case, without fish. So he assisted the women to draw up his wife's net; but they were horrified to find instead of fishes the net filled with arms and legs and other mangled parts of human bodies. Whaitiri insisted that they should be cooked.
But now there arose a difficulty: there was no priest to perform a religious ceremony over the slain bodies, and without that it would not be safe for health or life to cook and to eat them. Then Whaitiri turned to her husband, Kaitangata, requesting him to perform that ceremony. But he answered, “I do not know how to pray.” His wife insisted that he should perform that ceremony, telling him that it was his duty for their child's sake—for she was then advanced in pregnancy. But to all her demands he only answered: “I do not know how to pray.” At last she tried herself, but not being initiated into that mystery, she could only imitate a priest's invocation, and produced nothing but a mumbling sound. After this the human flesh was cooked and eaten, but, as it appears, only by Whaitiri. The bones were tied up and hung under the roof of the house. Her husband afterwards used some of them for fish-hooks, with which he caught more fish than he had done before. In due time a son was born, who was named Hema, who will be the next link in this generation.
Some time after that cannibal-feast Whaitiri found that she was losing her eye-sight. Then one night while she was troubled in her mind about it, there appeared to her a woman from the nether world, who said: “It is because the bones of the slain men, lacking due invocation, have been used by thy husband as fish-hooks, and thou hast partaken of the fish so caught.” It may be wondered why her suffering was traced to such a secondary cause, through hooks and fish, and not direct to the eating of the men; but such is Maori reasoning.
Whaitiri's eye-sight did not get better; she was therefore generally sitting in the house. One day Kaitangata had visitors. They were all sitting outside talking, except Whaitiri, who alone stayed inside the house. Then one of the visitors, a female, asked Kaitangata: “What sort of woman is that wife of yours?” “That wife of mine!” he replied, “her skin is as cold as the wind, her heart is like snow.” He did not know that his wife had heard every word. When the visitors were gone and he came inside the house his wife asked him: “What have you been talking?” “Nothing in particular,” he replied. “What have you been talking about?” she repeated. “Only common talk,” he replied. “What have you been talking about me?” she asked again. “O, Whai-tane (man-pursuer or husband-hunter) asked about you, that is all,” he answered. But she had heard all and was sorely offended. She spoke to her son Hema thus: “You cannot come up to me. When you have posterity they may come up to me in the sky.” Then she jumped up. Her husband tried to catch her by the clothes to hold her back, but was too late. She went up to her former home in the sky, to a place called Puotetoe (bunches of reeds).
When Hema, the son of Kaitangata and Whaitiri, was grown up, he took to wife Karenuku. They had three children, a daughter named Pupumainono and two sons named Karihi and Tawhaki; the last, though the youngest, will be the next link in the generation. Hema, the father, was slain and the mother taken a captive by the Paikea, Kewa and Ihupuku people. The names of these people allude to different kinds of whales, and are spoken of as ugly and disgusting.
In Sir George Grey's book on the Maori mythology (in the Maori language), there is a beautiful tale of how the two young men, Karihi and Tawhaki, liberated their mother out of the captivity in which she was held by a disgusting people. But that tale is not known here; I must therefore leave it out.
3. Karihi and Tawhaki.
When the children of Hema were grown up, the two boys, Karihi and Tawhaki, made excursions over the sea in order to avenge the death of their father; but they could not find the land of their enemies. Once, when they came home from a fruitless voyage their sister, Pupumainono, said to them: “You should have asked my advice.” Then she taught them an invocation, by the reciting of which she said they would be more successful.
It will be remembered that the grandmother, Whaitiri, having taken offence, left her husband and child and went away to her former home in the sky. That place, it seems, was not in a perpendicular, but in an horizontal direction, far away over the sea. By virtue of the invocation taught them by their sister, the two young men, Karihi and Tawhaki, found the place of their grandmother. The old woman, who was now quite blind, was sitting among bunches of tall reeds, beating about her with a weapon, so that if anything came within her reach she would kill it, and then add it to the store of her food. She happened to be in the possession of ten pieces of provision which she was in the habit of counting now and then feeling them with her hands. She did not know that her grand-children were then standing before her and watching her movements. So she began to count her provisions: “One, two, three,” and so on. But meanwhile Karihi took away one piece, and when she had counted so far as nine she felt about for the tenth, but it was nowhere. Thinking she might have made a mistake, she began again to count: “One, two, three,” and so on. But now Tawhaki had also taken away a piece, and when she had counted as far as eight, then there was no more to be felt. Again she began to count, but found every time that there was a piece less. Now she suspected that she was being robbed or made a fool of, and became very angry, scolding and beating about; but her grandsons kept out of her reach.
When her rage had exhausted itself and she was calmed down, then Karihi went near her and struck her a gentle slap on one of her eyes. She started and uttered an exclamation of joy, for with it there had come a light in her eye. Immediately, Tawhaki hit her a gentle slap on the other eye, with the same result. Now her eye-sight was restored; and when she then learned that the two handsome young men were her grandsons she became very friendly and asked them what the object was of their coming to her. They told her that they were going to avenge the death of their father, and wished her to show them the way. “Stay with me for a while,” she said; “by and by I will show you.” Then she took them to her house near by.
It seems that they had already partly avenged their father's death when they liberated their mother from captivity, but the accounts about that are not clear here, therefore I left out that part—it is clearer in Sir George Grey's collection. However, there are several people named who had taken part in that murder, and it may be that there was still a party left who had not yet been punished. The young men did not feel at ease in their grandmother's house, for in it there lay a large heap of human bones, the flesh of which had been eaten by her. They could not trust her; they feared that she might kill and eat them also. So they determined to be very watchful. But it was impossible to keep awake always, and she might kill them while asleep. They must, therefore, try to deceive her. For that purpose they went to the sea-shore and got some shells from the rocks, which looked just like eyes. When they put them on their closed eyes they gave them the appearance of open eyes. Then, at night, when they could keep awake no longer, they fastened the shells over their eyes and went to sleep, and when their grandmother looked at them she believed that they were wide awake, and was therefore afraid to kill them.
However, the young men did not like to prolong their stay, and kept on asking the old woman to show them the road. But she put them off, saying, “by and by she would show them.” After some time and trouble she showed them a path, and then they took leave and went on; but they found that the path only led into the bush, where firewood had been carried, and no farther. So they had to go back and beg the old woman to show them the right road. After some delay and more deceiving she at last said: “Well, if you are determined, I hold the road to that part of the sky you want to reach.” “Then, where is the road?” they asked. “The road is on my neck,"she replied; “loose this cord.” When they had untied the cord on her neck they found that the other end was fastened to the sky. “Now,” she said, “you must climb up by this cord. But I am afraid the wind will blow you from one side of the heavens to the other, and you will lose your hold and fall down;
yet, if you are determined to go, mind with whom you may meet on the way. If you meet with women who talk much and behave in a rude way, have nothing to do with them; they are some of Tangaroa's descendants. But if you meet with women who walk quietly and behave modestly, they are of your own nation, and you may make friends with them.”
After these instructions the ascent began. Tawhaki remembered the prayer his sister had taught him, and said it; but Karihi forgot to say his prayer. Karihi climbed before, and Tawhaki after him. When they were a little way up the wind began to blow, and swung them, first to one side of the heaven; then the wind changed, and swung them to the other side. Karihi could hold on no longer; he fell down and was killed, and afterwards eaten by Whaitiri. Tawhaki came down so far as to see the fate of his brother, and then climbed up again till he reached a land in the sky.
The first person he met was Tuna (eel), who came down from places (or descended from persons; it is not clear), the names of which denote shining phenomena and lightning. Might that allude to electric fishes in some waters of hot climates? Kawa (bitter, as pepper) and Maraenui (great courtyard or sacred enclosure) were hanging over Tuna's forehead, like veils. Probably there is some allegory in this, but I do not know the meaning of it. Tawhaki asked Tuna: “What are you coming down for?” Tuna answered: “The above is burned up, is hard and dry, there is no water.”
After that he met a company of women; but, as they talked much and were not modest in their behavour, he remembered that he had been warned against them, so he kept out of their way. Soon after, he met another company of women, different from the former; they did not talk much, and behaved modestly; with them he made friends, and stayed at their place. One of these women, named Hine-nui-o-te-kawa (Great Maid of Pepper) took a fancy to Tawhaki. She was the wife of Paikea (a species of whales). Paikea did not like that, and when they were sitting and talking, Paikea grinned at Tawhaki, and Tawhaki grinned at Paikea. The end of it was, that the woman left Paikea and become Tawhaki's wife.
When Tawhaki had lived a good while with his wife, and she was. far advanced in pregnancy, it happened one day that they were short of firewood; and when the dependents were in a lazy mood, and would not get up to fetch some, Tawhaki went himself and brought home a large long piece. From this occasion, the child, which was born not long after, was named Wahie-roa (a long piece of firewood)—It is still sometimes the custom of the Maori that, when an offence is taken, a name corresponding to the vexation is given to a child. Wahieroa will be the next link in the generation.
After this the tale about Tawhaki becomes hazy, and I cannot find much
meaning in it. He went to the sky or heaven of Tama-i-waho (son on the outside) to avenge the death of his father. He found Tamaiwaho's place crossbarred, but got over it. Tamaiwaho retired behind another crossbar, and called to Tawhaki: What are you pursuing me for, you ugly man?” Tawhaki replied? “I am a handsome man, you are the ugly man. Give over some to me as a satisfaction for the murder of my father.” “Never, never,” cried Tamaiwaho. Tawhaki got over the barricade and Tamaiwaho retired behind a third. There some fighting happened in which Tama was wounded. Then he called to Tawhaki; “You are a handsome man.” “Give over some to me,” cried Tawhaki. Tama gave over some, and then said: “that is all.” “Give up all,” demanded Tawhaki. Tama gave up to him Ateatenuku, Ateaterangi, Harihangatepo, Harihangateao, Koruehinuku, Mataatawhaki, and others. If these names represent persons or places I do not know. Possibly they are names of stars, or may signify islands.
In Sir George Grey's book are different tales about Tawhaki. There, they end with an interesting tale of Tawhaki going up to the sky in pursuit of his wife, who had left him in a pet for a trivial offence. But that tale is not known here.
When Wahieroa, Tawhaki's son, was grown up, he took to wife Matokarau-tawhiri. In the course of time the wife became pregnant, and then had a wish to eat a bird, a tui (koko in this dialect), and her husband went into the bush and caught her one. Some time after, she had again a fancy for a koko, and again her husband went, with a servant, into the forest. As he could not find a koko in his own district, he went into that of Matuku. Here Matuku surprised them, slew Wahieroa, and took the servant with him as a prisoner. Some time after this event a child was born, who was named Rata.
When Rata grew up, he asked his mother: “What has become of my father?” “He has been murdered,” said the mother. “Who murdered him?” asked Rata. “Matuku did,” said the mother. Before you were born I had a fancy to eat a koko, and your father went into Matuku's forest, and there Matuku murdered him.” “Where is Matuku now?” asked Rata. “Look where the sun rises out of the sea: there, in that direction. It is far away; you cannot yet get there,” said the mother.
Some time after this conversation, the mother went into the forest to find a tree that could be made into a canoe. She found a large totara tree which would answer the purpose. A branch of this she took home with her, and in the evening she spake thus to her son: “I have been in the wood, and found
a tree for you, a large totara tree, that can be made into a good canoe. Here is a branch of it. To-morrow you go and have a look at it.”
Next day Rata went, and when he came back in the evening he told his mother that he could not find the tree. But she told him to try again: “You cannot miss it,” she added, it is a large tree, with a rough bark.” Next day he went again, but came back in the evening without having found the tree. However, the mother encouraged him not to be disheartened at first failures, but to try again. The next day he found the tree, and felt more happy in the evening when he came home. He asked his mother how he should go to work. “There are the axes of your ancestors,” she said. Rata looked at them, and then said: “But they are blunt.” “There is the grindstone of your ancestors,” said the mother. Then Rata set to work, and the old grindstone made a noise which seemed to say: "Kia koi, kia koi! (to be sharp, to be sharp).
Next day, when the axes had been sharpened and tied to handles, Rata went into the forest and set to work to cut down his tree. At last it fell; and then, when he had chopped off the top it was evening, and he went home, well satisfied with his day's work. Next morning he went again, with the intention of working and shaping his tree into a canoe; but, to his great astonishment, he found his tree standing upright again, as if it never had been cut down. However, he would not be beaten, so he went through the same work again as the day before; cut the tree down, chopped off the top, and then went home, telling his mother of his strange experience. “Did you not invoke the spirits of your ancestors before you went to work?” she asked. “No,” said Rata, “I do not know how to do that.” However his mother encouraged him not to give up. Next morning he found his tree standing up again, as he had half expected, and he cut it down again and chopped off the top the third time. But now he did not go home, but hid himself under thick bushes near by. He had not sat long in his hiding place, when, in the waning twilight, in the solemn solitude of the forest, he heard a mysterious noise, like voices, by which his own name was mentioned. That noise glided into a singing tune; and then he heard distinctly the following incantation:—
O Rata! O Rata! Wahieroa's son!
Thou fellest, thou fellest, uninitiated,
In Tane's sacred grove,
Tane's flourishing tree.
Now fly the chips to the stump,
Now fly the chips to the top:
So they close; so they fit;
So the branches spread.
Now take hold, and up with him!
Then the whole tree rose, and stood up again. Now Rata came forth from his hiding place, and just caught a glimpse of the spirits, who, shrinking together into themselves, vanished. Then Rata said: “So they have done with my tree; so they have undone my work, and I have been made a fool of.” Then a spirit's voice spoke to him saying: “Go home; leave the work for us, thine ancestors; we will finish the canoe.” So Rata went home and told his mother what had happened. Next morning, when they got up they found the new canoe quite finished, standing at the side of their house. Then there followed religious ceremonies, to free the canoe from the spirits, so that it could be put to common use. It was named “Niwaru.” When all was ready the canoe was launched and manned, and Rata went out on his first war expedition. But little of this is known or remembered, and that little seems more to have been a fight with rats than with human beings. However, kiore-roa (long rat,) and kiore-poto (short rat,) may have been proper names. They came back victors, but the mother declared that Wahieroa's death was not avenged so long as Matuku lived.
After this, Rata sailed to Puoronuku and Puororangi (the islands where Matuku lived). He went ashore, and found the former servant of his father, whom Matuku had carried away a prisoner. Rata asked him where Matuku was. “Yonder, in his cave,” replied the servant. “I am placed here to attend to the plantation.” “Will he not come this way?” asked Rata. “Not yet,” said the servant, “he comes in the seventh, or in the eighth month, to perform the ceremony before we begin our thistle-cutting.” Rata then requested the servant to show him Matuku's abode. It was a cave. Rata placed a noose over the entrance, and told the servant to stand in the plantation, and keep on calling for Matuku to come out. When all was ready, the servant called, “Matuku, e! come to perform the rites for our thistle-cutting.” Matuku answered in his cave, calling: “Thou art mistaken in the seasons of Matuku. In the seventh, in the eighth, months, I come to perform the rites of our thistle-cutting.” The servant called again: “Matuku, e! come to perform the rites for our thistle-cutting.” Now Matuku got angry. He called out: “Thou weariest the patience of Matuku. Now thou shalt see Matuku coming.” But as soon as he put his head through the entrance Rata pulled the rope, and Matuku's head was fastened in the noose. Then Rata killed him with an axe. Now Wahieroa's death was avenged.
Matuku is also the name of the slate-coloured herou.
Rata left a son, called Tuwhakararo. Little is known about him here. His wife's name was Apakura. Once he made a voyage, and was slain
—through a love affair with a woman named Hakirimaurea—by the Raeroa (long foreheaded) people.
There is a tale in Sir George Grey's book which seems to be identical with this murder, though it stands in a somewhat different context. It says that Tuwhakararo had a sister, who was married to the son of Poporokewa (kewa in this dialect means a whale). Once he went to visit his sister, when his sister-in-law, named Maurea, fell in love with him. But she was already affianced to a man of that tribe. In the evening, the lover of Maurea challenged him to a wrestling match, and was thrown twice by Tuwhakararo, and laughed at by all the people. This made him feel ashamed and vexed, and when Tuwhakararo was putting on his clothes again he threw a handful of sand in his eyes. Then, while Tuwhakararo was rubbing his eyes, his adversary murdered him. Afterwards he was cut up and eaten by all the people in the house, and the bones tied under the roof.
I have taken this passage out of Sir George Grey's book because it not only explains the murder, but shows also that those people were cannibals, whereas the Maori at that time seem not to have been such.
Whakatau was the son of Tuwhakararo and Apakura. When the news was brought home that his father had been murdered, and when he heard his mother cry, he resolved to avenge his father's death. He painted one side of his canoe black and the other white, and then sailed for the place of the murderers. When the canoe was seen by the people there, they wondered if it were a large seal or a canoe. Several rushed into the sea and swam toward it. When the first swimmer came near, he called to Reinuiatokia (this seems to have been a brother to Whakatau), who was steering, to turn back. Reinuiatokia told him to pass on. He then swam to the fore part of the canoe, where Whakatau killed him with the blow of an axe. The next swimmer met with the same fate, and so on, till a great many were killed. Only one, called Mongotipi, escaped and returned alive to the shore. He told the people that it was a canoe, that one of the men was Reinuiatokia, but that there was another great man whom he did not know. In the night Whakatau landed alone, and sent a message to his mother by the canoe, to watch at night to see the burning of Tihiomanono. Then he hid himself in the bush and disfigured his body with ashes and charcoal, so that he had the appearance of an old mean man.
Next day there came people into the bush to get firewood. Whakatau, disguised as an old stray slave, joined them, took a bundle of firewood on his back like the others, and went home with them. When they came to the
place the wood-carriers called to the people there: “We have found a slave.” In the evening all the people assembled in the large house, Tihiomanono. Whakatau walked in with them and sat down, as an old slave, in whom no one took any interest. The people talked over the affair that had happened the day before; and Whakatau silently surveyed the house, so as to form his plan. While he was doing this, the bones of his father, which were hanging under the roof, began to cry to the son. The people heard the sound in the dry bones, and remarked that they were crying for vengeance, and wondered whom they could mean to be the avenger. Then the conversation turned upon the stranger who had slain so many of them the day before, and they questioned Mongotipi, the man who had returned alive, what sort of man that stranger was. Mongotipi said he could not describe him, he was such an extraordinary man. Some one of the company asked, “Was he like me?” “No, not at all,” was the answer, “he was a very different man.” “Was he like me?” asked another. “No, not at all; there is no one like him here,” said Mongotipi.
"Was he like me?” asked Whakatau, who had by this time rubbed off the ashes and charcoal, and who had now drawn himself up in his natural bearing. Mongotipi looked at him, stared in silent wonder, and then exclaimed: “That is the man!” Now all the people jumped up to rush at him. But Whakatau quickly caught up a vessel with water and poured it over the fires. Now all was confusion and darkness, and while the people were scrambling one over the other Whakatau snatched the bones of his father, rushed with them out of the house, barricaded the door, and then set fire to the house, and burned the people in it.
That night Apakura, Whakatau's mother, was sitting on the top of her house, watching the sky in the direction of Tihiomanono. At last there shot up a red glare, and then she rejoiced that now her son Whakatau was a hero; he had avenged the death of his father.
With Whakatau the line of those ancient heroes ends; at least as far as is known here in the south.
As, at the end of the period of the gods, in Part I., we had a rounded-off tale in the mythical figure of Maui, which, though not connected with the preceding gods, yet partook something of their supernatural mysteries: so likewise here, at the end of the period of the ancient heroes, we have again, in the following, a well rounded-off tale, which, also unconnected with the preceding heroes, represents, like these, the human side of that period.
The northern natives, according to Sir George Grey's book, make the heroine of the following tale to be Maui's sister, whose husband was transformed into a dog by her wicked brother; and who thereupon threw herself
into the sea to drown herself, but was washed up at a distant shore, where she was found by two men, who revived her. But it seems to me that the following tale belongs to a later period than that of the Maui family.
8. Tinirau, and Hine-te-iwaiwa.
Tinirau was spoken of as the most handsome man of his time; and when his fame reached the ears of Hine-te-iwaiwa she was determined to have him. So she made up her mind to go to the place where he lived. Her heart was already so full of him that, as she went along the sea shore every time she found a fish thrown up by the waves, she sang, “Fish, fish, art not thou a fish thrown here by Tinirau?” When she came to Tinirau's place, and before she was seen by any one, she found his looking-glass wells, where Tinirau used to go to dress and to look at his handsome image in the water. There were three wells, with railings and sheltered seats. She broke all the railings and the shelter.
Now it happened that two servants of Tinirau's house passed by the wells. The name of one servant was Ruru-mahara (remembering, or intelligent owl), and that of the other Ruru-wareware (forgetful, or stupid owl). When they came home, Intelligent Owl said that Tinirau's looking-glass wells were broken. Tinirau, upon hearing this, asked for the particulars. Stupid Owl said, “I saw nothing broken; the wells are all right.” “But they are broken,” said Intelligent Owl, “I have seen it.” “I saw nothing broken,” said Stupid Owl. Then Tinirau said he would go and see for himself.
When he came to the place, there stood Hine, by the broken wells. She darted a flash of lightning at him; he darted a flash of lightning at her; and then they fell in love with each other, and sat down together and talked of love. When they had sat awhile, Tinirau said to Hine, “Let us go home.” “No,” she replied,” “let us stay here.” “But we have nothing to eat here,” said he. Then she chanted—
"Let down, let down! drop down, drop down!"
and there lay a heap of food by their side. Toward evening, when the air began to feel chilly, Tinirau said again, “Let us go home.” “No,” said she, “let us stay here.” But the night is chill, and we have no warm clothes here.” Again she chanted—
"Let down, let down! drop down, drop down!"
and there lay a heap of warm clothes by their side.
Tinirau had two wives at home. The name of one was Makai-atua-uriuri, and that of the other Makai-atua-haehae. When Tinirau did not come home, the wives, next day, sent the two servants to look for him. When the
servants came back, the wives asked, “Have you seen him?” “Yes.” “Where is he?” “By the wells.” “What is he doing there?” “He is not alone,” said Intelligent Owl, “there is some one with him.” “I saw no one with him,” said Stupid Owl, “he was quite alone.” “He was not alone,” said Intelligent Owl, “there was some one with him.” “No, there was no one with him,” said Stupid Owl. Then Intelligent Owl said, as if in desperation, “I assure you I saw two heads and four feet.” That was enough for the wives; they both got up, each armed with a club, and went to the wells.
When they were seen coming, Tinirau said to Hine, “There come your sisters-in-law; now defend yourself.” Hine replied, “If they come with evil intent, I shall be a match for them.” Then she caught up a flint in one hand and a club in the other, and stood on her defence. First, one of the wives aimed a blow at her head, but missed, because Hine jumped aside, and at the same time struck her assailant with the club and killed her. Then the other wife struck at her, but missed also, and was at the same time killed by Hine, with the flint in her other hand.
Now the two lived happily together for some time. In due time also a child was born. But their happiness was disturbed by a brother of Hine, called Rupe. In former heathen times Maori brothers could sometimes be cruel to their sisters, their love to them being of such a selfish nature that they disregarded their sisters' happiness. But this brother appears here more like a spirit than a brother of flesh and blood. One day Tinirau and Hine with their child were sitting in the pleasant shade, and were very happy, cleaning each others heads, when all at once there came a cloud of thick mist, shaped like a large owl. This misty apparition contracted and became a man, who sat down by them and began to cry, as was the custom when long separated friends met again. In the cry the stranger sobbed:
Then Hine answered in her cry:
Thereupon the brother snatched up his sister and her baby and hastened away with them. Tinirau cried after him, “O Rupe! bring back our sister;” but that was of no avail.
When Tinirau had somewhat recovered from his surprise and sorrow, he thought of a way to follow his wife and child. He bad a large tame fish, which was one of his ancestors, called Tutunui, on which he occasionally took a ride over the sea, his pet seabirds accompanying him on such excursions. Now he went to the sea shove and called for Tutunui, who soon made his
appearance, and Tinirau got on his back and rode away over the sea, his pet birds flying and screaming over him. When they came near an inhabited place, then the birds hovered and screamed over the same, to see if Hine was there; and when they ascertained that she was not, then they flew screaming away to another place, Tinirau following them on the back of his fish, Tutunui.
While so proceeding, he happened to meet an old acquaintance, named Kae, who came paddling along in a small canoe. They both stopped to have a little chat, in which Kae persuaded Tinirau that they should change their conveyances. Then Tinirau stepped into Kae's canoe, and Kae got on the back of Tinirau's fish. Before they parted, Tinirau charged Kae to get off while still in deep water, and on no account take their ancestor into shallow water. Kae promised that he would do so. Then each pursued his way.
Tinirau paddled away in the small canoe, following his birds. But he found it slow work, and not so easy as riding on his tame fish. Luckily he met another acquaintance, named Tautini, who possessed a large tame Nautilus, which he kindly lent him. On this he could sail nicely by the wind, following his screaming birds. So they went on over the sea, trying many places, over which the birds soared for awhile, circling and screaming, and then flew away to another place. At last they came to a place where the birds would not leave. They kept on flying round and round and screaming always over that place. By this Tinirau knew that his wife must be there, so he let go his Nautilus and went ashore.
When he had gone a little way inland, he met a girl carrying baby's clothes. He asked her, “Where are you going?” “I am going to wash the clothes for my sister's baby,” said the girl. “And who is your sister?” asked Tinirau. “My sister's name is Hine-te-iwaiwa, and her baby's father is called Tinirau,” she said. “Let me help you to wash the baby's clothes,” begged Tinirau. “No,” said the girl, “I can do that myself well enough.” However, Tinirau begged so hard to let him help her washing the baby's clothes, and to beat them to make them soft, that she at last let him. Then the girl went home with them, leaving Tinirau there by the water.
When the girl came home, she told her sister that she had met a stranger, who had insisted on washing some of the baby's clothes, and that she had let him. Hine asked what sort of man he was, and when the girl described him, she asked for some karetu grass, which she wound into a charm, called a tamatane; this she gave to the girl and told her to go and throw it at the stranger, and then to come back and tell her if he had caught it or not. The girl did so; and when she came back she told her sister, “I just threw it at him, and he caught it at once.” Hine was satisfied.
In the evening she told the girl to go to the common house, to sleep there.
"If they will not let you,” she added, “tell them that I sent you because I wished to be alone with my child.” So the girl went. But the common people would not let her sleep there, arguing that, as she was the nurse of a sacred child, it was against the rule of the tapu that she should sleep in a house among common people. But the girl said, “Hine has told me to sleep here because she wished to be alone. And as for the child being tapu, that might be if it had a father; but a child without a father———.” At last she was permitted to stay.
The door of Hine-te-iwaiwa's house was a slab of polished greenstone, and had, therefore, a metallic sound when moved. In the night a noise was heard as of the door being opened. Then some of the common people called out, “Hine! who is there that opens the door of your house?” “I myself,” she replied, “I wanted to go out.” But it was Tinirau, who had found his wife and child. Next morning she called all the people together, saying “Come and see your brother-in-law.” Then there was a great meeting and crying to welcome the stranger, the husband of Hine-te-waiwa and father of that wonderful child, that was made so much of by all the people of the place. Now Tinirau abode at that place. It is still the feeling among the Maori—and Europeans who have lived long among them feel it too,—that when there is one child, a descendant of high chieftainship, everyone in the community is concerned about that child.
We must now return to Kae, whom we left riding away over the sea on the back of Tutunui, Tinirau's pet fish. When he came near shore, and the water began to shoal, Tutunui shook his back, intimating to Kae that he must now get off. But Kae, contrary to his promise to Tinirau, kept his seat and urged the fish on toward the shore. When they came into shallow water the fish kept on shaking to get Kae off; but he held on, and drove the fish still further into the shallow water; when at last his gills were filled with sand, and he died. Then Kae cut him up and roasted and ate him.
While Tinirau's mind was occupied with seeking his wife and child he had no time to trouble about his pet fish; but now, since he had found them, and when the crying over the reunion was over, he became uneasy about Tutunui, and what might have become of him. Day after day he sat on the brow of the headland and looked over the sea, and sniffed at every wind, but no sign of his fish would come to him. At last the south wind blew, and then a savoury smell was wafted to him from some distant shore. Then he knew at once that it was the savour of Tutunui, his fish and ancestor, being roasted by Kae. He went home crying, “O! the savour of Tutunui, that the wind is bringing to me!” Then all the women of the place gathered together and assisted Tinirau, crying over the death of his ancestor.
After some days of crying and howling Tinirau felt his mind so far relieved that he could think of vengeance. He wished now to get Kae into his power; and to attain this he persuaded some women to form a band of dancing girls, to go out performing from place to place; and so, when at Kae's place, to get him by subtilty into their power and to bring him over alive. You can know him,” he added, “by a peculiar fastening of his clothes, and by his upper front teeth being broken, which he shows when laughing.”
When all had been arranged, the band of the dancing girls, called by courtesy Tinirau's sisters, sailed in a canoe over the sea, following the pet sea-birds as their guides. When they came to a settlement they performed there for the night, and then continued their voyage next day. So they went on from place to place. At last they came to Kae's settlement, over which the birds kept up a long and continuous screaming. The girls landed, and arrangement was made for their play. Kae was sitting by the middle post in the large house, in which the performance was to be given. His appearance answered the description given them by Tinirau; still the girls wished to be sure to get the right man, and therefore tried to make him laugh. But Kae seemed to be wary; he kept his face bent down, and his mouth shut. The dancing went on and the spectators laughed; but Kae did not laugh. Wilder and wilder went the dancing, louder and louder rang the applause and the laughter of the spectators, till at last Kae too laughed and thereby showed his teeth. Then the girls saw that his upper teeth were broken and they were satisfied that he was the man. By and by the play ceased, the house was hushed, and all the people, Kae among them, fell into a deep sleep, through a charm laid on them by the dancing girls. But these kept awake. They went outside to arrange the net in which Kae was to be carried away, and to perform the enchantments so that he could not wake up.
When all was ready, they went again into the house, lifted Kae gently into the net, and carried him to the canoe, and then started for home. They landed about day-break and informed Tiniran that they had got him. Now all the people came together to look at Kae, who was still fast asleep. Then Tinirau made him wake up. At first Kae believed that he was still at his own home and that Tinirau, with his people, had taken the place by surprise; but Tinirau bade him to look round and see if that was his own place. No, it was not; he found himself a prisoner. Then Tinirau began to kill him, and Kae howled. “Ah,” said Tinirau, “Tutunui also cried for his skin, when you had no pity upon him.” So Kae was killed, as a satisfaction for Tutunui.
After Kae had been killed Tinirau lived an easy, lazy life. This made the people grumble. It seems they were willing enough to work for Hine and her wonderful child; but they did not think that Tinirau, who was a stranger
to the place, was entitled to such a consideration. One evening, when Hine, with some other women, was sitting by the fire, one of them said to her, “Your husband seems to take it very easy; he never goes to work to get food for you.” At this casual remark Hine felt sorely offended. She went away, and was afterwards found by her husband, sitting alone and crying. He asked her what the matter was; and she told him that she had been so much hurt by having heard the people grumbling about him that he never worked to get food for her. “O,” said he, “do not take it so seriously; we will satisfy them.”
That evening Tinirau said to Hine, “To-morrow you tell your people to go to the forest and cut down trees, and carry the timber home, and build storehouses and stages for food.” Hine did so; and the people obeyed her. The work went on; day after day timber was cut and brought home, and stores and stages were built. The people began to grumble, saying, “Where is the food that is to be stored.” Still Hine, at the instigation of her husband, kept them at work, till the grumbling became very bad, when they were told they might leave off and rest.
In the evening Tinirau went to the sea beach, with a new kauati (pieces of wood by the friction of which fire is produced), and performed his enchantments till late at night. When the charm was well laid on he went home, and and the sea began to throw out fishes. The first fish fell in the yard of the private house, where the child and its parents lived, but the rest fell on the new stages. That night the people in the common house were still talking about the useless work they had performed in erecting those stages when there was no food to be stored, when they were startled by a strange noise, a continuous bumping on the new built stores, with sounds like live fish kicking with their tails on dry ground. The night was so dark, and the noise so awful, that no one ventured to go out. By and by there was a crash of a store breaking down under the weight of the fish; still the bumping and kicking went on, even close before their door, and then there was another crash and break down of a whata or store. So a fearful night was passed. With the breaking of the day the sounds had ceased; and when the people opened the door, there was a sight! Fish and broken down stores were mixed into a huge heap. There was no road for the people, they had to climb over the heap of a confusion of fish and broken timber.
But the yard of the child's house was clear. There was only one fish, the first one, lying before the door of the house.
Ko nga Korero Tawhito a nga Tohunga Maori o Murihiku; he mea kohikohi na Rev. J. F. H. Wohlers.
This paper is a copy of the Maori Mythology in the same words as dictated to me by some old Maori wise men; out of which text I translated the paper into English, which has been read before the Otago Institute. In that paper I left out several names and passages in which I could not find a meaning; but they are all here in the Maori text. The language is in the Murihiku dialect, but in the pronunciation I have mostly kept to the general Maori orthography, because that is better for the understanding of the meaning of the words.
I must also mention here that about the time I was collecting the tales I sent a few specimens of the same to Sir George Grey, and that part of them have been printed in his book in the Maori language. I only mention this, because some, when they see a few passages in that book and in this paper exactly alike, might think I had copied them. It will be also observed that in Sir George Grey's book those few passages which are alike are in the Murihiku dialect. All that is here has been collected by myself here in the south.
The old Maori tales, as originally collected by me—written down word by word out of the mouths of several old Maori—are bulky, incoherent and rambling, and few readers would have the patience to wade through them. I undertook the labour of collecting and studying them chiefly for the purpose to learn the Maori language and way of thinking. In the following Maori text I have tried to order the narration, and have left out tiresome and useless repetitions, but have retained the essential passages and expressions of the untutored old Maori, as spoken in this dialect, even if the grammar does not seem what it ought to be. This is, I presume, what the Society wishes, namely, a Maori text by the old Maori, and not a modernised Pakeha-Maori text. I have still several old tales which would form a third part.
I noho a Tangaroa i a Papatuanuku.—Ka haere a Tangaroa ki waho, ki te Kahuipuakiaki, ki nga taonga o Whakitau. Ko hoki tera, hoki rawa mai, kua noho te wahine, a Papatuanuku, i a Rangi. Ka hemo mai a Tangaroa ki te huata; ka hemo mai a Rangi ki te huata. Ka tata mai. Werohia e Rangi ki a Tangaroa, ka ngaro a Tangaroa, ko taha te huata a Rangi. Ka werohia e Tangaroa ki a Rangi, ka whiti te tao te papa o te iramutu, taua rua o nga papa: takoto tou a Rangi. Ka tukua te wahine ki a Rangi.
Inaianei, ka kitea te atua uira, e tn ana i runga o te ngaru o te moana, ko Tangaroa tena.
2. Ko Tutakahinahina.—Ko Te Roiroiwhenua.
He tangata; haere noa tenei tangata i runga i te mata o nga wai: ko Tutakahínahina te ingoa o tenei tangata. Kahore ia ana matua. Ka noho ia taua tangata i te wahine, ko Kaihere te ingoa o tenei wahine. Ka puta ki waho tana tama, ko Te Roiroiwhenua te ingoa o tenei tamaiti.
Ka mate á Tutakahinahina, ka korero ia, kia mahi nga tangata; kia mahia he kai, kia mahia he wahie. Ka mahi nga tangata; ka mauiui, ka noho. Ka mahi te Roiroiwhenua; ka mahi ona tia. Ka tae ki te rangi i mate ai tona tupuna, a Tutakahinahina, ka mutu tana mahi. Ka mate tona matua, ka tapuketia ki te tara o te whare, taepatia. Ka hurihia tona aroaro ki raro, tona tuara ki runga.
Katahi ka puritia te ra e Kumeateao, e Kumeatepo, e Unumiatekore. Ka kutia nga po, kahore ia kia marama. No reira i pouri ai te rangi me te whenua me te moana. Ka noho nga tangata i roto i te pouri. Kahore e kitea te huanui ki te kai, te huanui ki te wahie. Ka noho tonu nga tangata i roto i o ratou whare; ka kai i a ratou kai, ka tahu i a ratou wahie; ka tahu i a ratou takitaki, ka tahu i a ratou poupou. Ka mahiti o raton kai, ka mahiti o ratou wahie; ka mate nga tangata. Ka ora, ko te Roiroiwhenua, ka ora ona teina ka ora ona tangata.
Ka mahiti nga wahie a Te Roiroiwhenua, ka tahuna tona patatara tapu. Katahi ka rongona te korero a tona matua. “I konei i mate au, tapuketia ahan, ki te tara o te whare, taepatia. I konei, kia aro mai koe, tirohia ki te rewanga ki runga o te oneone.” Ka whakarongo atu a Te Roiroiwhenua e ngau ana i te tuataata. Ka puta nga iro o Tutakahinahina ki reinga, ka tirohia, e haere ana i roto i te taepa, erua, ko te uwha, ko te toa—no te hinu o tona hakoro. Ka kohia ki tona ringa. Ka karanga ia ki nga tangata i roto i te pouritanga. Ka hikaina ki te ahi; ka tu, ka tawhiri, ka mura. Ka tahuna te Oumu. Ka taona te toa, ko te uwha i waiho.
Ka tae mai a Tamatea-mai-tawhiti, i muhu mai i te po. I roto ano ratou e noho ana i te Nukutaiki, i te Nukuterea, i te Nukumuruaitu. No te tukinga a Tamatea i te oumu ka tae mai te ohanga ki raro. Ka tu te ata matua, ka haea te ata, ka hapara: ko te ata nui. Na ka tangi te umcre: He awatea. No mua te waha a nga manu i karanga ai, no muri te waha a nga tangata. Ka marama te rangi, ka marama te whenua, te moana. Ka kitea nga tangata: e takoto ana i reira, i a Hakorotu, i a Hatatai, i a Tanenuiarangi. I reira e takoto ana te kaueti i whakakitea ai te ahi. Ko te ingoa o tenei ahi, ko Tioí, ko te ahi i taona ai nga iro o te hakoro. Ka puta te ra, ka rewa ki runga, ka tu Tokinui-a-Rehua. Ko Tangaroa ia Te Roiroiwhenua.
Ki ta etahi ki: I a Tangaroa te ata i mua; no te kutunga i a Tutakahinahina, i a Tamatea te ata.
3. Ko Rangi raua ko Papatuanuku.
I noho a Rangi i tona wahine, i a Papatuanuku. I te takoto mate a Rangi; kua tu i a Tangaroa. Ka puta ki waho nga tamariki a Rangi raua ka Papatuanuku: Ko Tane-kupapaeo, ko Tane-mimiwhare, ko Tane-nakatou, ko Tane-waroro, ko Tane-hupeke, ko Tane-tuturi, ko Tane-tewaiora, ko Tane tematatu, ko Tane-tutaka; takoto tou tenei tutanga. Ka puta ki waho: Ko Tane-nuiarangi, ko Paiao, ko Tawhirimatea; ko te tatanga tenei i whakatika ki runga.
I roto i te pouritanga e noho ana aua tamariki. Kahore he wahi ma te maramatanga e whiti mai ai, kahore he wahi ma te han e tangi ai. Takoto tou a Rangi, piri tonu ki te whenua. Ka korero nga tamariki, kia patna a ratou hakoro, kia whai wahi ai ma ratou. Kiia e Paiao, kia wahatia ki runga, tu ai. Kiia. mai e Tane, “Ekore e taea; kahore he tangata.” Kiia mai e Tawhirimatea: “Me waiho marie.” Tare tonu a Paiao, kia wahatia a Rangi ki runga. Ka ki atu a Tane: “Wahatia.” Kahore hoki kia taea. Kawhakamatau a Tane; kahore hoki kia taea, takoto tou. Ka kiia atu e Tane, ma ratou katoa e hapai. Ka karangatia e Tane: “Ko wai ki runga nei?” Ka kiia iho e tera hunga: “E tu pa whaia!” Ka karangatia e Tane: “Ko wai ki runga nei?” Ka kiia mai e tera hanga: “E tu ma whaia!” Ka karangatia e Tane: “E tu ma totoro! Whakaekea te maunga! E tu ma totoro, whakaekea te maunga kia iheuheu e Tane.” Ka tukua e Tane ko tona upoko ki raro, ko ona waewae ki runga; na, ka ekea a Rangi ki runga, e aue ana. Ka tokoa ki runga e Tane, mau ai.
Na, ka hoki iho nga kai waho. Ka titiro ake a Tane ki tona matua ki runga: Pouti kerekere haua. Ka baere ia ki Okehu, ko te kura tu ki a Warua. Na, i reira nga kura. Ka mauria mai e Tane, ka tataitia. Ka hoki iho a Tane, ka titiro ake; kahore ano kia pai. Ka haere tera whakahoki ki a Okehu, ka tikina uga whetu, ka tataitia. Ka whakamarokia te ika o te rangi, ka pakaina Panakoteao, ko nga Patari; ka pakaina ko Autahi, ko te whetu o te tau. Ka haere a Tane, ka tae ki te kainga o Tukainanapia, ka tangohia ki a ia nga tupuni o Wehinuwaiamomoa. Tangohia ana mai ko Hirautu, ko Porerinuku, ko Kahuwiwhetu, ko Poaka (Orion) ko Takurua, ko Whakarepukarehu, ko Kuakimotumotu, ko Tahuweruweru, ko Whero, ko Whero-iteninihi, ko Whero-tekokoto, ko Whero-iteao-maori,—ka tae ki te raumati. Na, ka hoki iho a Tane ki raro. Ka titiro ake ki tona matua: Katahi ano kua tau.
Na ka mahara tera, a Tane, kahore ano te whakatau mo tenei matua, mo Papatuanuku. Ka whakaarahia e Tane ana hua hei whakatau i tenei matua, ko nga rakau. Ka parea, ko nga upoko ki runga, ko nga waewae ki raro. Ka peke mai tera, ka titiro;—titiro atu: kahore hoki kia tau. Ka tikina,
turakina ki raro. Ka parea, ko te upoko ki raro, ko nga waewae parea ki runga. Ka poke mai tera ki tahaki, ka titiro atu: Katahi ano ka tau.
Ka tonoa e Rangi a te Aki, a Watui ki waho, ki te whakarongo. Rokohina atu nga hua o te papa, o te inaho, o te maru: whakawarea tonu, kai ai. Ka tonoa a Uru raua ko Kakana ki runga; rokohina atu nga hua o te puarakau: kai tonu, kahore hoki kia hoki mai. Tamo tonu atu.
He Tangi na Rangi.
"Ko Rangi ko Papa, e takoto nei;
Tamairetoro, tamairetoro, taua ka wehea.
Ko Ari ko Hua, e takoto nei;
Tamairetoro, tamairetoro, taua ka wehea.
Ko Tamaku ko Tamaiwaho, e takoto nei;
Tamairetoro, tamairetoro, taua ka wehea,
Ko Rehua ko Tamarautu, e takoto nei;
Tamairetoro, tamairetoro, taua ka wehea.”
Ahakoa, kei te noho ke atu a Rangi i tana wahine, i a Papatuanuku, kei te mihi tonu te aroha o te wahine ki tana tane: koia te kohu o nga maunga e rere ana ki runga. Ka ringitia hoki nga roimata a Rangi ki runga ki a Papatuanuku, koia te hauku.
4. Ko Tane.
Ka mutu te mahi a Tane ki ona matua, ka haere, ka porangia he wahine mahana. Ka porangi ki nga maunga ki nga wai matatiki, ki nga rakau, ki nga manu: kahore hoki i kitea he wahine mahana. Ka tahuri mai ki tona hakui, ki a Papatuanuku. Ka ki atu te hakui: “Hoki atu. Nahaku hoki koe. Nai te wahine mahau; whakaahua i te oneone.” Na, ka haere a Tane, whakaahua i te oneone, he wahine mahana. Ko Hinehaone te ingoa o taua wahine. Ka noho i a Tane, ka whanau he tamahine, ko Hineatauira te ingoa o tenei tamahine. A, ka tupu, ka kaumatua, ka noho i a Tane, he wahine mahana. Kohore ia i matou, ko tona hakoro ia. Kua ngaro noa atu tona hakui. Ka noho raua, ka whanau ki waho: ko Tahukumea, ko Tahuwhakairo, ko Tahuotiatu, ko Tahukumeatepo, ko Tahukumeateao.
Muringa ra ka haere a Tane, ka porangi ki a Rehua, ki te tuakana. Ka tae tera ki tetahi kainga i runga nei, ka ki atu tera: “Kahore he tangata i runga nei?” Ka ki mai nga tangata o taua kainga: “He tangata ano i runga nei.” “Ekore ranei au e tae?” “Ekore koe e tae; ko te rangi tenei i kumea e Tane?” Na, ka wahi ake a Tane, noho ana i runga i tera rangi. Ka haere ake, ka tae ki tetahi kainga ake, ka karanga atu: “He tangata ano i runga nei?” He tangata ano. “Ekore ranei au e tae.” “Ekore koe e tae; ko te rangi tenei i tuhia e Tane.” Ka wahi ake, ki tera rangi. Ka tae atu ki tetahi kainga, ka karanga ake: “He tangata ano i runga nei?” “He
tangata ano.” “Ekore ranei au e tae?” Ekore koe e tae; ko te rangi tenei i rohea e Tane.” A—whenei tonu tae rawa ki te ngahuru o nga rangi.
Na, ka tae ki te kainga a Rehua. Ka haere mai tana tuakana kia tangi raua. Ka tangi makuare a Rehua; na Tane te tangi karakia:—
"Tipia, tahia, ngakia, rakea;
Tipia te rangi kia rahirahi,
Toto mai i waho.
Wariki o te rangi
Auaha tou ingoa,
Ko te rangi puaiho,
Turuturu o te rangi;
Kia mau ai, ko Tane anake,
Na na i tokotoko te rangi tou.”
No te mutunga o te tangi ka matau a Rehua, ko Tane tenei. Ka ki atu a Rehua ki ona tangata, kia tahuna he ahi. Ka ka te ahi. Ka ho mai he ipu. Ka mahara a Tane, keiwhea ranei nga kai ma enei ipu i ho mai nei? Ka tirohia atu e wetea ane e Rehua te upoko—i herea te upoko. Wetea ana, ka ruia ki nga ipu—he koko e kai ana i nga kutu o upoko o Rehua. Ka ki nga ipu i nga koko, ka mauria ki te ahi, ka kohua. Ka maoka, ka mauria mai ki te aroaro o Tane. Ka kiia mai e te tuakana kia kai. Ka kiia atu e tera e Tane: “Ekore au e kai. Titiro rawa ahau, e wetea ano mai i roto i tou upoko. Ma wai hoki te kai, i kai ai i nga kutu o tou upoko.” Ne reira i mataku a Tane, ki te tuakana.
Te kiinga atu a Tane ki a Rehua: “Ekore ranei e haere i au.” Kiia mai e Rehua: “E haere i a koe. Ka hua te rakau, na, rere atu te manu, ka tau ki reira kai ai.” “Me aha!” Ki te mea ka tangi te hau, ka maroke te kaki o te mano, ka tae ki te wai: me ta ki te kaha.
Ka tae atu a Tane ki te kainga a Nukuroa raua ko Tamatea-kaiwhakapua. Ko nga wahine anake i rokohina atu; ko nga tane kua riro ki te whai kiore. Tokorua nga wahine. Ko tahi te wahine i noho, kotahi te wahine i whakapekapeka. Na ka mea kai ma Tane; he kiore te kai. Kahore ia i kai. Kiia atu e ia: “Ko te kai tenei a o korua nei tane?” Ka ki mai nga wahine: “Ae.” Ka kiia atu e Tane: “Me waiho tenei kai ma a korua ariki, ma Te Tupuao raua ko Hinekitaharangi.”—Na ka kiia atu e Tane, kia haere raua ki a raua tane. A, ka haere aua wahine. Rokohina atu e noho ana nga tane. Na ka korero atu: “Kua noho maua ki te tane. Ko tenei toku noa i whakapekapeka, ko au ia i anga atu.” Ka ki mai te tane nahana te wahine i whakapekapeka: “He aha koe i whakapekapeka, te tahuri atu?” A ka kiia mai e nga tane: “Haere ki to korua manuwhiri, apopo maua whana atu.
Na te ata haere mai nga tane ki te kainga, ka ho mai i te mataahi ki a
Tane. Kahore a Tane kia hiabia atu ki taua mataahi—he mea kiore e kai ana i nga tutai, e ketu ana i a raua paruparu. Kahore kia kainga e Tane; i mataku i reira; na te tangata i mua.
Na ka hoki mai a Tane, ka Tae mai ki te kainga o tona hakui. Na, kahore tana wahine i reira. I runga ano i te kainga o Rehua a Tane, ka ui atu a Hineatauira ki tona hungoi, ki a Papatuanuku: “Keiwhea toku nei tane?” Kiia mai e te hungoi: “E, ko tou tane! Ko tou hakoro ra pea.” Katahi ka rongo a Hineatauira he tamahine ia na Tane, ka mate i te whakama. Ka poroporoaki ki tona hungoi, kiia, kia noho a Tane i te ao, hei whakatupu i a raua nei hua; ka haere tera ki te po, hei kukume i a raua nei hua. Na, ka hoki mai a Tane ka ui atu ki a Papatuanuku: “Keiwhea toku nei wahine?” Ki mai te hakui: “Kahore ia wahine mahau. Kua riro ia, kua heke. Kiia iho koe, kia noho i te ao hei whakatupu i a korua hua.”
Ka haere a Tane ki te whai atu i tana wahine, i a Hineatauira. Na mahana ka tae atu ki raro, ki te po; kopikopiko noa atu. Mana ka tae ki te whare, ka ui atu ki te poupou o te whare. Kahore hoki he waha kia ki mai. Ka ui atu ki te maihi o te whare; kahore hoki he waha kia ki mai. Ka mate tera i te whakama, ka nunumi, ka tawhe ki te tara o te whare.—Na ka ui mai te tangata o te whare: “E haere ana koe, e Tane, ki whea?” Ka kiia atu e Tane: “E whai atu ana ahau ki ta taua tuahine.” Ka ki mai te tangata o te whare:
"E hoki, e Tane, ki te ao,
Hei whakatupu mai i a taua hua.
Tukua tonu au ki te Po
Hei kukume i a taua hua nei.”
5. Ko Maui.
Na Mahuika a Hina, te hakui. Ka noho ra i a Te Raka. Ka puta ko Maui-imua, ko Maui-iwaho, ko Maui-iroto, ko Maui-itaha, ko Maui-potiki. He maro; ka panga ki runga ki te tataraheke. Ka haere mai a Mu, a Weka; ka rokohina mai e takoto ana. Ka mauria, takaia ki te hukahuka; ka whakatupu ki reira: ka tupu he tangata.
Ka rongona e Aonui, e Aoroa, e Aopouri, e Aohekere; ka tikina mai. Ka mauria ki runga ki te rangi, ka noho. Ka mate i reira Te Roiroiwhenua, Te Rakowhenua; ko te patunga tuatahi tenei a Maui. Ka noho a Maui i a Kaitatuwhainga raua ko Maruitewhareaitu. Ka tukua e maui ki te huka te mahinga kai a Maruitewhareaitu kia mate. Ka pirau katoa nga kura, ka takua e Maru ki te toroku kia mate. ta Maui mahinga kai. Ka mate, kahore hoki i tupu. Ka mahara a Maui; ka tawhangatia a Maru e haere mai ana, ko nga maori nei ko nga taru nei, mauria ki te ringaringa. Ka tae mai
ki te taumatua, ka patua e Maui. Ka mate a Maruite whareaitu. Kahore hoki i tae kia karakiatia.
Ka tonoa a Maui ki te kainga a ona matua. Ka tae mai ki te kainga, rokohina mai e kokiri ana nga tuakana. Ka kokiri hoki a Maui, paku atu ai, ka tu ki te maihi o te whare o Raka raua ko Hina. Ka puta ki waho te wahine, ka ui: “Na wai ka pae nei te maihi o te whare?” Ka ki atu nga tuakana: “Na ra, te tamaiti nei.” Ka ui atu te hakui: “Na. wai ra te tamaiti?” Ka ki mai a Maui: “Nahau ano.” Ka ki atu te hakui: “Kahore hoki. Ka mutu ano nga tamariki ahaku, ko ena.” Ka ki atu a Maui: “Aua ra, nahau ano ahau. Ko tou maro, i panga ra ki runga ki te tatareheke. Na aku tupuna ano ahau. i whakatupu. Nahau ano awau. Ko Maui ahau, te marorakerake.” Katahi ano te hakui ka mahara, ae, nahana ano.
Ka noho a Mani i te kainga o te hakui, ka mahara; keiwhea ra toku hakoro. Ka ahiahi te ra, ka tu waenganui te po, ka oho ake a Maui, ka rongo e korero ana te hakui raua ko te hakoro. Ka kainamu ki te ata, kua ngaro a Te Raka. Ka ahiahi, ka po, ka moe whakakiko a Maui Ka tae mai a Te Raka, ka wewete i te maro, ka ho atu ki tahaki, a—warea atu i te moe. Ka tikina atu e Maui taua maro, ka huna ki raro i tona moenga. A, ka oho ake a Te Raka, ka porangi i te maro, kahore hoki kia kitea. Ka awatea. Ka unuhia te poupou, ka ngaro a Te Raka. I te ata, ka hori te hakui ki te ahi kai, ka whaia e Maui te poupou, ka titiro ia ki raro. Ka kitea, ae, tenei ano te huanui. Ka whakahokia te poupou, hunakia.
Ka haere nga tuakana ki te ta kereru. Ka haere hoki a Maui. Ka karanga atu ki te hakui, kia ho mai ki a ia be hinu, kia homai hoki he mea tuhi. Ka tae mai ka haere. Ka tae atu ki ro o ngaherehere. Ka pani a Maui ki a ia ki te hinu; ka tuhi ki nga ngutu, ka tuhi ki te rae, ka tuhi ki nga waewae: ka whakatauria e ia ki te kereru. Ka pakaina te maro o tona hakoro ki te kaki. Kahore nga kereru kia mataku ki a ia; hopukina toutia e ia. Ka ahiahi te ra ka haere ki te kainga, me tana kawenga kereru. He mea tu ra a nga tuakana, he hopn tou ahana. Ka manawareka te hakui. I te po ka toe mai a Te Raka. Ka rongona e Maui te korero a te hakui: “Ta taua tamaiti i whakamate te kai! He turanga a nga tuakana, he hopu tou ahana.” Ka moe ratou. I te po ana ka riro a Te Raka ki raro.
Ka whakaaro a Maui kia haere kia matakitaki i te huanui a te hakoro. Ka unuhia te poupou, ka ngaro ki raro. Ka haere ra taua huanui. Ka tae ki te wahi wanui. Ka whakatau ki te haereru ka rere. Ka kitea etahi tangata i waenga e mahi ana. Ka rere te kereru, takamio rere, a, ka noho ki runga ki tetahi rakau hakahaka. Ka kitea e nga tangata o raro, ka karanga atu tetahi: “To taton kereru!” Ka whana atu te kai pihere, ka rere te kereru; ka whana atu hoki te kai pihere, ka rere te kereru. Kua kitea hoki
te hakoro. Ka rere mai te kereru ki runga ki te hukui o te ko a Te Raka. E ko ana a Te Raka i waenga. Tangi ana te kereru i runga i te hukui o te ko. Na titiro ana te hakoro, ki ake nei: “Ko te tangata pea o runga na?” Ka kuiho ai ki te hakoro. Ka whakaeke ki raro ki te whenua. Na, kua whakatangata. I rokohina atu te hakoro e ko makuare ana. Na Maui i ho atu te peha.
“Koia ko Tararauriki.
Ki mai Maui ka hara ki te whitu.
Tukua te taupiri, tataia te orarangi.
E tau, ei.
Manu wherohia ki te poho a Raka.
Ka taurere, ka tau whakaeke,
Ka tau mai i te ruhi.”
Ka mutu, ka mahara a Te Raka, koia ko Maui. Ka arahina ki te kainga.
Kua mate te ahi. I a Mahuika te ahi. He taua a Mahuika, he tupuna na Maui, na te taha o te hakui. Ka taringa te kai tiki ahi. Ka ki atu a Maui, mahana e tiki. Ka haere ia, ka tae atu ki te kainga i a Mahuika. Ka ki mai taua wahine ra: “Na wai i ho mai ki konei? Na te hau i pa mai ki Toku kiri?” A, ka rongo, ko Maui tenei, ka tangi: “E, ko toku mokopuna!” Na, ka ho mai he ahi. Hoki tou mai a Maui, ka tinei, ka mate te ahi. Hoki tou atu ki taua taua ano, ki te tiki ahi; a, ka tinei hoki. Mahiti katoa mai nga ringaringa me nga waewae a Mahuika. Ka tae ki te koiti, ka ki atu taua wahine ra: “Ehara koe i te tangata i raro nei; ko te tangata ano koe o runga nei, o runga nei,” Ka riri taua taua ra, ka tahu i tana ahi, kia wera ai a Maui i te ahi. Na, peo ana mai a Maui, kua whakakahu. Ka tahu a Mahuika i tana ahi, ka rere a Maui ki runga, ka tukua iho he kohu. Ka tungutu a Mahuika i tana ahi; ka tukua iho e Maui he awha puroro. Ka tungutu a Mahuika i tana ahi; ka tukua iho e Maui he awha rarahi te pata. Ka tungu-tungu a Mahuika i tana ahi, ka tukua iho e Maui te huka kapo, ka uruhia papakia te huka. Ka mea kia mate te ahi, ka pakaina e Mahuika ki te rakau, ki roto ki te kaikomaka, ka pakaina ki roto ki te putaweta; kahore hoki kia u. Ka pakaina ki te totara, ka u, ka pakaina ki te tumatakura, ka u. Ka pakaina ki te hinahina, na, toro tou.
Ka rere iho a Maui; kua whakatangata ia. Ka hoki mai ano ki te kainga o te hakui. I reira ano nga tuakana. I reira hoki tetahi tupuna o Maui, e noho ana, ko Murirakawhenua te ingoa o taua poua. A, ka maoka nga kai ka haere nga tuakana, ka kawe kai mo to ratou tupuna. Ka taringa te kai kawe o nga kai; ka ki atu a Maui, mahana e kawe. Ka whana atu, kai rawa; ko nga rourou waiho i nga tara o te whare, takoto ai. Muringa ra ka toro a Maui ki roto ki te whare o tona tupuna: rokohina atu a Murirakawhenua e
takoto ana; kua mate. Ko tetahi taha ake e ora ana; ko tetahi taha kua pirau. Ka whai atu a Maui, ka ihi te kauae o Murirakawhenua. Ka kawea ki te wai, ka taia, ka rorokia, ka kawea ki te moana: he rua te ika nana i piki te kauae o Murirakawhenua. Ka huna ki roto ki a ia hei maka.
I te po ano nga tuakana ka haere ki te moana—he mataku ki a Maui. Ka oho ake tera, kua riro. A, ka noho tera. I te po ano ka haere a Maui; roko-hina atu e takoto ana te waka. Ka haere ia ki te tauihu o te waka, ka whaia atu te kete tahunga, ka tomo atu ki roto, ka takoto ia. Ka kainamu ki te ata ka haere mai nga tuakana. Ka tae mai ki te waka, ka tirotiro—-a, kahore tahi nei. Ka toia te waka ki te moana; ka hoe, ka tae ki waho ki te moana, ki runga ki te turanga. Ka mounu nga tuakana, pakia mai taua kete tahunga ra: ka puta mai ki waho a Maui, noho ai. Ka karanga atu nga tuakana, kia whakahokia ki uta. Ka ki atu nga tuakana atawhai, kia waiho ki runga ki te waka. Ka ki atu ano nga tuakana atawhai kino, kia whakahokia ki uta. Ka ki ano nga tuakana atawhai: “Waiho ano i konei noho ai. He maka hoki, u ana, kauraka e ho atu.” Na, ka mea nga tuakana kia tukua nga maka. Ka ki atu tera, a Maui: “Ho mai mahaku tetahi maka me tetahi mounu.” Ka ki atu nga tuakana: “Kauraka hoki.” Na, ka mea kia tukua nga aho o nga tuakana, ka motokia tona ihu e Maui; taratia ana te toto. Ka rere, ka tarati te karukaru, ka potaea ki runga ki tona maka hei mounu. Ko te kauae o tona tupuna te maka i a Maui. Ka tukua ki ro o te wai. Na, i taua tukunga tae rawa te timu ki te hakui. Karanga atu tera: “Ko Maui, potiki ahaku, kei te whakatane i a ia!” Na kei te kai ano te ika ra; ka hapainga mai ki te ihu o te waka. Ka poa te ika. He karakia ano ta Maui No te kainga o te ika ka whangainga e tera: “Kai mai e waro warari; e waro-wanaka ake.” Ka tangi te poa o te ika. Ka karanga atu nga tuakana: Maui, tukua atu taua ika ra.” Ka ki atu a Maui: “Ko toku ika ano tenei. i tae ai au ki te moana.”—“Maui e, tukua atu, he atua tahau.” Ka ki atu a Maui: “Ko taua ika ano i tae ai au ki te moana.” Ka kumea ki runga, ka tukua; ko te whenua. Tukua rawatia ake, tu ana nga whata, me nga whare; aue ana nga kuri, ka ana nga ahi, noho ana nga tangata, korero ana, haere ana. Ka korokoroko te ika i hiia e Maui, ka ea, ka whaka whenua, ko te ika a Maui.—Ka hoki a Maui ki to ratou kainga ko nga tuakana.
Ka noho a Maui ki te wahine, ko Hina te ingoa, he tamahine no Tuna raua ko Repo. Ka haere a Hina ki te wai. Ko te taunga ano ki te wai, ka puta mai a Tuna; ka korepekia te hiku, mana nga para.—Ka haere atu a Hina, ka korero atu: “Tangata nei! E whakapai tangata nei! Maenene ana te kiri te panga atu nei!” Ka mahara a Maui; Me aha ra? Me keria te awa A, ka keri a Maui ki te awa, a, ka honu, ka ki atu tera ki te wahine, kia haere raua. Ka tae raua ki te awa, ka ki atu a Maui, kia haere ki te taunga noho
ai; ko Maui ki te tanaaha. Ka whaihangatia te patatari, ka whakatokia e Maui ki nga roko.
"Ko te roko patahi, ko te roko parua,
Ko te roko patoro, ko te roko pa wha,
Ko te roko pa rima, ko te roko pa ono,
Ko te roko pa whitu, ko te roko pa waru,
Ko te roko pa iwa, ko te roko pa ngahuru.”
Ka puta a tuna. Tere tonu nei nga harakeke me nga paki. Ka tata mai, ka heke. Tae rawa ki te wahine ka mea kia hoki. Ka panga e Maui ki te toki. Ka rere te hiku ki te moana, koia te koriro. Ka rere te upoko ki te wai maori, koia te tuna. Ko te roro whero, koia te pukapuka; ko te roro ma, koia te koarere; ko nga huruhuru o te upoko, koia te aka.
Ka mate tera patunga a Maui. Ka noho. Ka ka te oumu a Hina. Ko te kanga anake, kua po te ra; kainga ane te kai i te po. Ka noho tera, a Maui. Ka ao ake i te ata, ka ki atu ki te wahine: “Tahuna he oumu kai.” Ko te ka anake, kua po te ra. Mahara tera, a Maui; Me aha? Ka ki atu ki nga tuakana, kia manawa nui, kia hopukina te ra.—A, ka haere ratou ko nga tuakana ki ranga ki te rua. Ka whakatakotoria ki te rua o te ra te mahanga. I raro ano te ra, ko te huruhuru ka puta. I raro ano te ra, ko te ihi i puta ake. Ka puta ake te upoko, ka puta ake te kaki. Ka karangatia e Maui, kia kumea te mahanga. Ka noho te mahanga ki te kaki. Ka aue te ra: “Maui, tukua a au.” Ka ki atu a Maui: “Me tarie kae e tukua. Ka patua te ra e Maui. Ka aue ano te ra kia tukua.” Ka ki atu a Maui: “E tarie, e koe, e tukua, kia maoka te oumu.—Pakipaki Hina i herea ai te ra e Maui, e tu nei.”—Katahi ano te ra ka roa. Me he mea i kore a Maui, po tonu te ra.
Ka mate i a Maui tena patunga. Ka noho. Muringa ra ka haere, ka tae ki te kainga o te taokete, ko Irawaru te ingoa o te taokete. Ka taona he kai ma raua. Rua rawa ake a Maui, kua mahiti te kai i a Irawaru. Whenei tonu. Ka noho rava. Ka whiti te ra, ka ki atu a Maui, kia haere raua ki te wahi ke, noho ai. Ka ki atu a Maui: “Hakurea toku upoko.” Ka hakurea. Ka muntu, ka ki atu a Maui: “Takoto hoki koe, kia hakurea tou upoko.” Ka hakurea e Maui. Ka parangia i te moe a Irawaru. Ka kumea nga taringa, ka kumea te kauae, ka kumea nga ringaringa, ka kumea nga waewae, ka kumea te tikitona hei wairo. Ka oti—takoto, he kuri. Ka haere a Maui ki tahaki, ka moimoitia mai; ka whakatika ki runga taua kuri, whenei me te kuri.—Ka haere a Maui ki te kainga, ka ki mai te tuahine: “Keiwhea tou taokete.” Ka ki atu a Maui: “Na, na ano, kei to maua nohoanga.”—“He aha koe ekore e tono mai.”—“Karangatia.” Karanga noa te tuahine, kahore hoki kia haere mai. Ka ki atu a Maui: “Whakamatau ki te moimoi.” Ka ki atu te tuahine: “He kuri koa e moimoi ai?” Ka ki atu a
Maui: “Koia, whakamatau.” Na, ka whakamoikia. Tiro atu, haere mai ana, he kuri ia. Ka, ki atu te tuahine: “Maui rawahanga. Kahore koe titiro tou taokete.” Ka piko, ka tangi. Ka tae mai taua kuri, ka nga ki te wahine, ka tangi noa ki te wahine. Ka tangi te wahine, ki whakamomori.
Ka noho tera, a Maui. Ka ho mai te rongo o Hinenuiotepo (ko Hineatauira tona ingoa i mua, ko Hinetitama hoki tona ingoa). Ka haere a Maui. Ka tae ki te kainga o Hinenuiotepo, ka ki atu a Maui ki nga tuakana: “Kauraka au e kataina. Ka puta au, ka kata koutou.” Ka tomokia Maui, ka kata nga tuakana. No te katanga ka kutia, ka mate a Maui.
Ko Nga Korero Tawhito.
1. Ko Kaitangata raua ko Whaitvri.
I noho a Whaitiri i runga i te rangi; he wahine. Ka tae mai te rongo a Kaitangata, i noho ra i raro nei. He Kaitangata!—Kahore, he rongo noa. Na, ka haere mai a Whaitiri, ka tae mai ki te kainga i a Kaitangata. Ka noho mai taua wahine i kona i a Kaitangata.—Na, ka haere a Kaitangata ki te moana, ki te hi ika; ka u mai ki uta. Kahore hoki he ika kia mau i ona maka: kahore he kaniwha hei whitiki i te kauae o te ika. Ka ki atu a Whaitiri i aua maka kia homai, kia kitea e ia. Ka ki atu a Whaitiri: “Ko au maka enei?” Ka ki mai a Kaitangata. “Ae.” Ka ki atu tera, a Wahitiri: “Kahore he kaniwha. Na, titiro mai.” Ka weraina atu tona tara. Ka mea atu tera, a Kaitangata. “E—.” Ka whakarihariha atu, ka haere ki waho.
Ka noho taua wahine, ka ta i te korohe. Ka auina ake ka haere a Kaitangata ki te moana. Ka noho te wahine, ka kitea atu e tera, e Whaitiri, te waka a Tupeketi, a Tupeketa, e manu ana mai. Ka haere atu taua wahine ki te wai, ka makere ki roto, ka ruku, ka ea. Ka karanga a Tupeketi: “He tangata ranei, he manu ranei?” Ka ruku. Katahi rawe te kitenga i raro i te waka. Ka tu a Tupeketi ki runga, kia werohia. Ka no ake te koripi, ka haea te puku a Tupeketi, ka taka iho ki roto ki te korohe. Ka oma tetahi ki te ta, ka mea kia werohia a Whaitiri; ka ho ake a Whaitiri i te koripi, ka taka ki raro, ki roto ki te korohe.—Ka kau a Whaitiri ki uta; ka waiho atu nga tangata i reira, i roto i te korohe. Ka ki atu ki te hunga wahine: “Kumea mai ki uta.” Ara mai,—he waewae tangata!
Ka ki atu a Whaitiri ki a Kaitangata (kua hoki mai ia i te moana) kia whakaponohia. Ka ki atu a Kaitangata: “Kahore kia matau i au.” Ka ki atu a Whaitiri: “Whakaponohia te tangata a ta taua tamaiti,” (kua hapu a Whaitiri). Ka ki atu a Kaitangata: “Kahore kia matau i au.” A, ka ki atu a Whaitiri: “Aua ra, mahau e whakapono te tangata a ta taua tamaiti; nahau rongo hoki.”—Na, ka mea a Whaitiri, mana e whakapono. Ka whakapono
a Whaitiri, ka taputere te karakia. Ka oti te karakia, ka kotikotia nga tangata; ka kainga e taua wahine. Ko nga iwi ka whakairia ki runga o te whare.—Ka maroke; ka kaiatia e Kaitangata, hei maka. Ka taia hunatia; ka oti te kaniwha, ka taka ake, ka kawe ki te moana. Ka kai te ika, ka hutia ki runga, he hapuka. Tae rawa mai te pakurutanga ki a Whaitiri. A, na te waka ano ka tomo, te hapuka, ka hoe mai ki uta. Ka unuhia nga hapuka, ka taona ki te umu. Ka maoka, ka kai a Whaitiri i te hapuka.
Muringa ra ka pangia nga kanohi a Whaitiri, ka parewha. Ka noho a Whaitiri. Ka ahiahi te ra, ka moe ai iho. Ka kiia mai e te wahine o raro o te reinga: “Aua ra, te mea ka mate na koe, ko nga iwi a tau patunga kua oti te kawe e tou tane ki te moana; no reira nga hapuka i kai na koe, ka mate na koe.”
Ka noho a Whaitiri. A, nui noa atu nga ra ka puta ki waho, ko Hema. A, noho ana a Hema.—A, no tetahi ra ka haere mai nga tangata kia kite i a Kaitangata. I waho o te whare noho ai. Ko Whaitiri ia i noho i roto o te whare. Ka ui atu nga tangata ki a Kaitangata: “E aha ana te wahine e noho i a koe?” Ka ki mai a Kaitangata: “Kei te wahine e noho i au: ko te kiri o tenei wahine, me te hau tonu; ko te ngakau o tenei wahine, me te huka tonu.”—Kua rongona e Whaitiri.
Ka riro nga tangata, ka haere mai ki ro o te whare noho ai te tane. Ka ki atu te wahine: “He aha a koutou korero?” Ka ki mai te tane: “He aha koia hoki, he korero noa ano ia.” Ka ki atu te wahine: “He aha a koutou korero?” Ka ki mai a Kaitangata: “Ko Whai-tane e ui ana mai ki a koe; koia matou e korero mai nei.” E huna ana a Kaitangata. Na, kua rongona atu e taua wahine, e Whaitiri. Ka mate i te whakama. Ka korero a Whaitiri ki a Hema: “Kauraka koe e whana ake; kia konokono ariki, kia tupu ou hua, mana e piki ake nga rangi i a Tamaiwaho.”—Na, ka kake a Whaitiri. Ka kapo a Kaitangata ki te weruweru o Whaitiri. Ka kake ake a Whaitiri ki runga, ka tae ki te Putoetoe, ki rara noho ai.
2. Ko Hema.
Ka noho a Hema i a Karenuku, he teina no Puku. Ka puta ki waho ko Pupumainono he wahine; ka puta ki waho ko Karihi; ka puta ki waho ko Tawhaki he tane enei. Ka noho a Hema, a—ka po maha atu, ka haere a Hema, ka tae ki te kainga a Paikea ma, a Kewa ma, a Ihupuku ma; ka tae atu i reira ka patua, ka mate a Hema; ko te wahine i rauorangia.—Ka noho nga tamariki. Ka porangi a Karihi raua ko Tawhaki ki o raua matua. Ka haere raua, ka kau i te moana e takoto nei; horo tou i te wai, a, hoki tou mai. Ka ki atn te tuahine: “Iwhea korua.” Ka ki mai raua: “I te kau maua, kahore hoki maua kia whiti; hoki tou mai nei.” Ka ki atu a Pupumainono: “Me
ui mai korua ki au. Mahaku e hoatu te tikanga ki a korua. Na, whakarongo mai:
“Huruhuru takiritia i raro hara, i te kipo hutu,
Orahaina te moana patoto e takoto nei;
Orahaina te moana waiwaia e takoto nei:
Hiki ka tahi, hiki ka rua, hiki ka toru, hiki ka wha,
Hiki ka rima, hiki ka ono, hiki ka whitu, hiki
Ka wharu, hiki ka iwha, hiki ka ngahura.”
3. Ko Karihi raua ko Tawhaki.
Ka haere raua, ka tae ki te kainga a Whaitiri, i te Puotetoetoe, e patihau ana—kua pohe noa ona kanohi. Ka tae mai he tangata ka mate i a ia, hei kai mahana. Ka rokohina atu e Karihi raua ko Tawhaki taua wahine e patihau ana. Na, kei te tatau ia i ana kai: “Ka tahi aku kai, ka rua aku kai, ka toru aku kai, ka wha, ka rima, ka ono, ka whitu, ka wharu, ka iwa, e!—kei-whea te ngahuru?” Kua riro te ngahuru i a Karihi, te kapo. Na, ka tatau ano taua wahine i ana kai; a,—ka tae ki te iwa, kua riro i a Tawhaki. Ka mahara taua taua: “Kewhea aku kai kua riro? Ko wai i mea aku kai nei?” Na ka tatau hoki; kua riro te wharu. Ka mahara te taua nei: “He tangata ano te mea i aku kai nei.” Kua riro te whitu. Ka riri taua taua nei, ka patihau. Na, ka pakia e karihi te kanohi a Whaitiri, ka titiro atu te kanohi, ka ki atu a Whaitiri: “Purangi aeho toku mata e Karihi!” Ka pakia e Tawhaki; ka ki atu a Whaitiri: “Purangi aeho toku mata e Tawhaki!"—Na, ka titiro ona kanohi, ka karanga atu: “E, ko oku mokopuna! koia nei ano i mea nei i oku kai! Ko oku mokopuna!” Ka haere ratou ki te whare o Whaitiri korero ai.
Ka noho raua i kona, i te kainga o to raua tana, ka titiro raua, e pu ana nga iwi o nga tangata i patua e Whaitiri. Ka mahara raua, akuanei raua mate ai i te taua nei, e patihau tonu nei. Ka ahiahi te ra, kahore hoki raua kia moe. Kei te patihau tonu. Ka o te ra, ka haere raua ki tatahi; ka rokohina atu te pupu e piri ana ki te pohatu. Ka kohitia te aka o te pupu, ka whakapiri ki o raua kanohi. Ka ki atu tetahi: “Titiro mai ki oku kanohi.” Ka titiro mai tera, ki mai: “Ae, kei te moe o roto, ko waho kei te titiro.” Ka hoki mai raua ki te kainga. Ahiahi ano te ra ka whakapiri i nga aka ki o raua kanohi, ka moe raua. Ka mea tonu taua taua kia patua raua. Kei te hua kei te moe. Ka titiro; kahore. Ko o raua kanohi a roto kei te moe, ko waho ano kei te titiro. A, ka hua taua taua kei te ara raua; kahore, kei te moe.
Ka ao ake i te ata, ka ki atu raua ki a Whaitiri: “Na wai i ho mai nga kai mahau?” Ka ki mai a Whaitiri: “Na aku mokopuna ano.” Ka ki mai: “Keiwhea te ara i ho mai ai he kai mahau?"—“Koia ano tena.” Ka ki atu
raua: “Keiwhea te huanui?” Ka ki mai a Whaitiri: “Koia tenei te huanui e takoto nei.” Ka haere raua, ka porangi ki taua huanui. He huanui haere ki te wai, he huanui haere ki te wahie, he huanui haere ki te taumatua karakia. Ka hoki mai raua ki te kainga, ka noho. Ka ao ake i te ata ka ui atu raua: “Keiwhea te huanui?” Ka ki mai taua taua: “Tahuri mai ki au. Nai te huanui ma korua, kei au. Nau mai haere korua. E tutaki i a korua e haere mai nei, ka whakarongo atu korua. E korero haere mai nei: ko a tatai wahine a Tangaroa, ko Pakihikanui, ko Pakihihewahewa.—Ka mutu taua tatai wahine a Tangaroa—Kai ho mai kai mahaku; na, e haere mai i muri na e wahangu mai na: ko Pupumainono, ko Hapainuiamaunga, ko Hinenuiotekawa.” Na, ka ki ano a Tawhaki raua ko Karihi: “Keiwhea ano te huanui?” Ka ki mai te taua: “Kei au ano te huanui, kei toku kaki. Whai mai, wetea.” Na ka whai atu a Tawhaki raua ko Karihi; kei te kaki a Whaitiri e mau ana. Ka takiritia, i reira e mau ana te taura ki te rangi. Ka ki atu a Whaitiri, kia pepeke raua. Ka moa atu raua, ko Karihi ki mua. A, kei te korero ano a Whaitiri: “Kotahi mana korua e patu, ko nga hau o te Ururangi, nga hau popoki o runga.”—A, piki ware noa a Karihi; i a Tawhaki nga karakia.
Ka piki raua, ka moa. Ka patua iho a Karihi e nga hau a te Ururangi. A, kei te piki ano a Tawhaki; whawhai rawa kia Karihi, kua makere ki raro i te kainga a Whaitiri. Ka tukua ki raro a Tawhaki; tau rawa iho ki te Tuakana kua mate i a Whaitiri.—A, ka piki ano tera, a Tawhaki, ka patua iho e te hau o Ururangi: piri rawa ki te moana. Piki ano a Tawhaki. Ka eke ki runga. Pono rawa a Tawhaki, e heke ana mai, a Tuna. Ka tutaki raua, ka ui atu a Tawhaki ki a Tuna: “Tena koe te haere mai. He aha koe i haere mai?"—“He tahuna no runga, he maroke no runga, he pakeke, kakore he wai.” A, ka heke mai a Tuna; ko te Kawa, ko Maraenui e mau mai ana ki te rae o Tuna, e koparetia ana. Ka matamatarongo raua, ka tukua mai a Tuna. No reira e takoto noa a Tuna i te horehoretua; kahore he wai. Ka whakamanawa a Tuna ki raro ki te Muruwaioata, ki te wai takoto ai.
Ka haere a Tawhaki, ka whakarongo e korero haere mai te whanau a Tangaroa. Na, ka tukua atu. Ka haere a Tawhaki, ka tutaki ki a Hapainuiamaunga, ka tutaki ki a Hinenuiotekawa, ka haere ki te kainga noho ai. A, whano atu ano a Tawhaki, ka tangi mai nga iwi o te hakoro, ka oho mai ki a Tawhaki. Ka karakia a Tawhaki.—Ka noho a Tawhaki i te kainga o Paikea ma, ka mate te wahine, ko Hinenuiotekawa, ki a Tawhaki, ki te tangata ataahua. Ka ahiahi te ra, ka noho nga tangata ki te taha o te ahi. Ka whakatete te tangata nana te wahine. Ka whakatete a Tawhaki ki a ia.—Ka tare te wahine ki a Tawhaki, ka whakarere i tona tane, ka noho i a Tawhaki. A, ka hapu taua wahine i a Tawhaki. Na, ka ki atu a Tawhaki ki nga tangata kia haere ratou ki te wahie. Koia te kaiwhakatari a
Tawhaki! Ka haere a Tawhaki haere i te kaiwahie. Ka whakawaha te kaiwahie; ka amohia e Tawhaki. Ka tae mai te kaiwahie, ka tukua; ka whakamutu te tuku o nga wahia, ka tukua e Tawhaki tana wahie, kotahi te wahie a Tawhaki, he wahie roroa. Ka whakana nga korohi a Paikea ma. Ka puta ki waho, ka korero ratou. Ka mahara a Tawhaki; tenei te take i oho ai oku tuakana.—Ka noho ano a Tawhaki, ka ki atu ki te wahine: “E puta tou tamaiti, e puta he tane, me waiho te ingoa o tau tamaiti, ko toku wahie, ko Wahieroa.”
Ka noho a Tawhaki, ka ao te ra, ka haere, ka whai i te rangi i a Tamaiwaho i runga. A, ka whana atu a Tawhaki, e haere ana a Tamaiwaho; e ripekatia honoa te rangi e Tamaiwaho. Whaia ake hoki a Tawhaki i te rangi;—ripekatia honoa hoki. Ka whaia ake tonu a Tawhaki;—e ripekatia honoa hoki te rangi. Ka karanga iho a Tamaiwaho: “He aha tahau e whai mai i au?” Ka karanga ake a Tawhaki: “Tukua mai ki au tetahi.” Ka karanga iho a Tamaiwaho: “Kahore, kahore.” Ka karanga ake a Tawhaki: “Tukua mai ki au tetahi, hei utu mo toku matua.” Ka karanga iho a Tamaiwaho: “I whai mai koe ki au, te tangata kino!” Ka karanga ake a Tawhaki: “He tangata ataahua au, he tangata kino koe.” Ka kohara ki a ia a Tamaiwaho, ka pono a Tawhaki. Ka karangatia e Tawhaki: “He tangata kino koe.” Ka kohara a Tawhaki, ka pono te ringa a Tamaiwaho. Ka karanga iho a Tamaiwaho: “He tangata ataahua koe.” Ka karanga ake a Tawhaki: “Tukua mai tetahi ki au.” Ka tukua iho e Tamaiwaho, ka karanga iho: “Ka mutu, ka mutu.” Ka karanga ake hoki a Tawhaki: “Tukua mai.” A, ka tukua mai e Tamaiwaho: “Ko te Whatu, ko te Ateateanuku, ko te Ateatearangi, ko Hurihangatepo, ko Hurihangateao, ko te Mata, ko te Koruehinuku, ko te Mataateawhaki, nana i ouhou te aitanga a Pukukitemoana. Ka puta Ihupuku, ka puta Papaikore.
4. Ko Wahieroa.
Ka noho a Motokarautawhiri i a Wahieroa; ka hapu te wahine. Ka haere a Wahieroa ki te mea manu ma te hapu. Ka mauria mai te manu, he koko. Auina ake ka haere hoki a Wahieroa ki te mea manu ma te hapu, ka rokohina atu te wahi koko a Matuku. Ka hopukina a Wahieroa e Matuku, ka patua, ka mate a Wahieroa, ko te paihi i whakarauorangia.—Ka noho te wahine, a Motokarautawhiri, ka puta ki waho te tama, ko Rata tona ingoa.
5. Ko Rata.
Ka whakatupukia a Rata e te hakui. Ka ui mai a Rata: “Keiwhea ra taku nei matua?” Ka ki atu te hakui: “Kua mate.”—“Na wai?” “Na Matuku. I haere tou hakoro i te mea kai mahaku. Ka hapu koe, ka hia kai
au, ka haere ia ki te wahi a Matuku. Ka mate ia.” Ka ki atu a Rata: “Keiwhea tona kainga?"—“Me titiro koe ki te putanga mai o te ra; kei waho ke kei te moana, ekore e tae.”—Na ka noho te hakui. Ka haere ki te wahie, ka porangi; ka kite i te rakau, he rakau pai, he totara. Ka mauria mai te pua o te rakau. Ka ahiahi te ra, ka korero atu tera ki te tama:—
"Kua kite au i te rakau, he rakau pai, he totara. Apopo ka haere ai ki te toro i toku rakau.” Ka ho atu ki te pua, kia kite a Rata.—Ka haere a Rata ki te porangi. Ka hoki mai, ka ki mai: “Kahore kia kitea e au.” Ka ki atu te hakui: “Ekore e ngaro i a koe. Kei te rakau taratara te ra, koia tena.” Ka haere a Rata, ka porangi. Kahore hoki kia kitea. Ka ki ano te hakui: “Ekore e ngaro i a koe. Kei te rakau taratara ano.” Ka haere, ka hoki mai a Rata, kua kitea taua rakau. Ka ki atu te tama: “Me aha?” Ka ki mai te hakui: “Ki nga toki a au tupuna.” Ka ki atu te tama: “He puruhia enei toki, kahore he niho.” Ka ki atu te hakui: “Nau mai, haere. Kawe, e whakairia ana ki runga ki te tua iwi o tou tupnna, ko Hinetuaoaka.”—Na, ka ki te waha o te hoanga: “Kia koi, kia koi, kia koi.”—Na,kua koi. Ka houia.
A, ka ahiahi te ra, ka moe. Ka ao ake i te ata ka haere a Rata. Ka tuaina taua rakau; ka hinga ki raro, ka topea te kauru o runga. Ka haere mai tera, a Rata, ka tae mai ki ro o te whare, ka noho. Ka ao ake i te ata, ka haere ki taua rakau. Rokohina rawatia atu, kua arahia ki runga.—Ka tuaina, ka hinga ki raro, ka topea te kauru, ka haere mai tera ki te kainga. Ka ki atu tera ki te hakui: “Whana atu rawa ahau, kua tu ki runga te rakau.” Ka ki atu te hakui: “I ahatia e koe?"—“I tuaina makuwaretia e au?” Ka ki atu te hakui: “Me tua wareware ou tupuna!—“Ae, i tuaina tonutia e au.” Ka ki atu te hakui: “Nau mai, haere hoki.” Ka tae atu a Rata ki taua rakau ano. Kua tu hoki. Ka tuaina; ka hinga ki raro, ka kotia te kauru; kua ahiahi. Ka peke mai tera, a Rata, ki tahaki, tu atu ai. Ka whakarongo tera e haruru ana mai, e whakahua ana i tona ingoa. Ka whakarongo tera e karanga ana mai:
"Ko Rata, ko Rata a Wahieroa,
Tuatuaina makuwaretia e koe,
Te wao Tapu o Tane.
Kihu maota o Tane.
Ka rere te maramara ki te puhaka,
Ka rere te maramara ki te kauru.
Koia e piri, koia e tata.
E tu pa whaia!"
Kua tu ki runga te rakau.
Ka whana atu, ka hopukia e Rata; ka mahue, ka memeke nga tangata ki tahaki. Ka ki atu a Rata: “Koia nei ano e mea i taku rakau nei. Koia nei ano e rawehanga i toku raku nei.”—Ka ki mai: “Haere koe. Waiho tou rakau ki koneitakoto ai; ma matou e whaihanga atu.” Ka tae tera ki te kainga, ka korero atu ki te hakui te mea o taua rakau, te hopukanga.
Na, ka moe tera. Ka ara ake i te ata, kua tae mai ki te tara o te whare, te waka. Ka puta atu a Rata ki waho, tenei e takoto nei, i te tara o te whare, kua oti i aua tupuna nei, te waka nei.—Ka ao ake i te ata, he rangi ko, ka kawea ki te moana, taitai ai. Ka mauria mai nga ika i runga. Ka tae mai, ka kawea nga rimu ki mua, kia karakia. Ko aua rimu ra i kawea ki mua, taitai ai. Ka tunua te ika, ka kainga. Ka takoto tetahi. Ka auina ake te ata ka taona tetahi ika, te rua o aua ika ra. Ka kainga te ika: ko te tapora whakairia hei raupaka. Na, auina ake ka toia te waka; ko Niwaru te ingoa o taua waka.—Ka haere te taua; ka tae ki te kainga o Kioreroa raua ko Kiorepoto. Ka karakia tetahi:
"Kiore, kiore, mataki te whakarua.
Waiho, kiore, kia tau ana tona whare;
Te whare o Tunui, te whare o Tangaroa.
Whiti maumaua, ko Taraiawatea.
Huie, Taie, Rona, Hana, Haere mai, Toki, Hauma.”
Ko Kiorepoto i puta, ko Kioreroa i mate. Ka mauria mai a Kioreroa, te tangata i mate. Ka tae mai ki te kainga i te hakui. Kahore ano kia ea te mate.
Ka huaina a Rata, ka haere, ka hoe ki te moana. A,—ka tae ki te kainga i te paihi. Ko Tamauriuri te ingoa o te paihi; e noho ana i Puoronuku, i Puororangi. Ka ui atu a Rata: “Keiwhea tou rangatira?” Ka ki mai: “Kei ko ano. Ko au ano tenei e waiho nei hei tiaki i nga mara.” Ka ki atu a Rata: “Ekore ranei e tae mai?” Ka ki mai taua paihi: “Ekore e tae mai. Ki iho ki au, hei tawhitu, hei tawharu ka haere mai ia kia tamahungia a taua kotinga puwha.” Ka ki atu a Rata: “Ekore koe e Karanga?” Ka karanga a Tamauriuri: “Matuku e! Nau mai ra kia tamahungia a maua kotinga puwha.” Ka karanga mai a Matuku: “Kei te whakehe koe i nga po o Matuku. Hei tawhitu, he tawhara ka haere atu ahau ki te tamahu ki a taua koti puwha.” Ka karanga ano a Tamauriuri: “Matuku e! Nau mai ra; whaia a taua koti puwha.” Ka karanga a Matuku: “Kei te whakaporo koe i te manawa o Matuku. Akuanei rawa ano koia a Matuku.”—Kua takoto te mahanga a Rata ki Runga ki te rua o Matuku. Ko Putawarenuku te ingoa o te ana. Ka karakia a Rata:
"Taku mahanga nei ka here ki runga,
Ka here ki te tangata takitaki taua.
Ko Herenuku ai e, ko Hererangi ai e.
Ka whiwhia, ka rawea, ka moua.”
Na, ka puta ake a Matuku. I raro ano a Matuku, ko te huruhuru kua puta ake. Ka puta ki runga ka noho te mahanga ki te kaki. Ka mate a Matuku. Na, ka ea te mate; katahi ano ka rite.
6. Ko Tuwhakararo.
Na Rata a Tuwhakararo. Ka noho a Tuwhakararo i tana wahine, i a Apakura, ka puta ki waho tana tama, ko Whakatau. A, ka haere a Tuwhakararo ki te tira; ka noho ki te wahine, ko Hakirimaurea te ingoa o tenei wahine. Ka patua a Tuwhakararo e te aitanga a Raeroa, ka mate.
7. Ko Whakatau.
Ka rongona e Whakatau te mate o tona hakoro; ka whakarongo ia ki tona hakui e tangi aua: ka whaihangatia te waka. Ka pania te waka, he taha pako tetahi taha, he taha ma tetahi taha. Ka manu ia te waka, ka haere a Whakatau i te moana. Ka tata ia ki waho ake o taua kainga, ka kitea mai e nga tangata. Ka karanga nga tangata: “He pakaka!” Ka rere etahi tangata ki ro o te wai, kaua ana. Ka tae atu he tangata ki te waka, ka karanga atu ia ki a Reinuiatokia: i reira e manu ana: “E hoki koe.” Ka karanga a Reinuiatokia: “Whakataha.” Ka whakataha ia ki te ihu. I reira in a Whakatau. Ka hiko ia ki te toki; ka ea te tangata, ka whakakitea atu tona kanohi, ka pakaina ki te toki; ka mate. Tokomaha o nga tangata i mate i a Whakatau. Ka tae atu a Mongotipi, ka pakaina e Whakatau ki te toki; ka tipa ia, ka kau, ka haere ki uta. Ka korero atu ia ki nga tangata: “He waka. Ko Renuiatokia tetahi tangata, ko tetahi ia kahore au i kite, he tangata ke ia.”
Ka hoki mai ia te waka, ka tae ki tawhiti, ki waenganui o te moana. Ka po, ka ki atu a Whakatau ki nga tangata, kia hoea ki uts. Ka whakaukia ia; ka ki atu ia ki nga tangata. “Haere Koutou. Ki atu ki a Apakura, he po, ka kitea te wera o Tihiomainono.—Ka noho a Whakatau i ro o ngahere-here; ka whakaaro ia i roto i tona ngakau. Ka mutu; ka whakatau i tona kanohi ki te pungarehu. Ka haere ia, ka tutaki i te kaiwahie, e haere mai ana: ka hopukina. Ka whatiwhati wahie nga tangata. Ka ki atu a Whakatau: “Whatiwhatia hoki etahi wahie mahaku.” Ka nui ia a ratou kawenga, ka haere ki te kainga. Ka tata ia, ka karanga atu nga tangata: “Ina ia ta matou nei tia!” Ka karanga mai nga tangata: “Arahina mai ki konei.” Ka haere ia ki reira, ki roto ki te whare noho ai. Rokohina atu ia i tautahua i nga tupapaku i roto i te whare.—Ko Tihiomainono te ingoa o tenei whare.—Ka kitea mai nga iwi o te hakoro i a ia, ka tangi mai ki tana tamaiti. Ka ki ake nga tangata: “Mawai ia tou mate e utu mai?"—Ka po te ra; ka korero nga nga tangata, ka ui atu ki a Mongotipi: “Pewhea te ahua o taua tangata i runga i te
waka?” Ka ki mai a Mongotipi: “Kahore ia i kitea te ahua whenei me taua tangata.” Ka ui atu tetahi: “Me au nei te ahua?” Ka ki mai a Mongotipi: “Kahore ia he tangata i konei e rite ana te ahua.” Ka karanga atu a Whakatau: “Me au nei te ahua?” Ka titiro mai a Makotipi, ka karanga atu ia: “Koia ano tenei ake te ahua; tenei te tangata"—kua tika te ahua a Whakatau. Ka rere mai nga tangata ki te hopu i a ia. Ka hikoia ki te taha, ka ringihia, ka mate te a te ahio runga o te tuaroko. Ka whai ia i nga iwi o te hakoro, ka puta ki waho, ka paea te whare, ka tahuna te whare, ka weraia nga tangata i roto; ka haere ia. Ko te ingoa o tenei ahi, ko Rururama.
Kei te noho a Apakura i runga i tona whare, ka titiro atu. Ka kitea e ia te huru o te ahi. Ka mau ia te huruhuru ki te rangi. Ka pepeha te hakui: “Ko Whakatau, potiki ahaku, e Whakatane i a ia!"—A, ka hoki mai a Whakatau ki te kainga. Kua ea te mate o te ha' oro.
8. Ko Tinirau raua Ko Hineteiwaiwa.
Ka tae te rongo o Tinirau ki a Hineteiwaiwa: kotahi te tangata e noho ana, ko Tinirau, he tangata ataahua. Ka mea a Hineteiwaiwa kia haere ki a Tinirau, mahana, Ka haere; ka rokohina atu e pae ana te mako. Ka ki atu a Hine: “Te ika nei, te ika nei! Ehara koe i te ika kekirikiri o Tinirau.” Ka haere, ka kite ia i te pakaka, ka ki atu: “Te ika nei, te ika nei! Ehara koe i te ika kckirikiri o Tinirau.”—Ka haere taua wahine, ka tae atu ki te kainga o Tinirau. Rokohina atu nga wai whakaata o Tinirau. Ka tukitukia; etoru nga puna, pae anake. Tukituki, pae rawa nga takitaki me te maihi o te whare. Ka kitea mai e Ruruwareware, e Rurumahara. Ka tae atu ratou ki te whare o Tinirau; ka ki atu a Rurumahara: “Kua pae nga puna wai whakaata o Tinirau.” Ka ki atu a Ruruwareware; “He parau ia.” Ka ki atu a Rurumahara: “Na wai i ki, kua pae.” Ka ki atu a Ruruwareware: “He parau ia, kahore kia pae.” Ka ki atu a Tinirau: “Noho marie korua; mahaku e tora atu.
Ka haere a Tinirau. I tawhiti ano, titiro mai, kua pae. Ka tata mai ki taua wahi wai, ka kohara a Hineteiwaiwa ki a Tinirau. Ka kohara a Tinirau ki a Hineteiwaiwa. Ka hopukina a Tinirau e Hineteiwaiwa. Ka noho raua.—A,—ka korero, ka ki atu a Hine, ki a Tinirau: “E aha koia koe e haere ki te moana, he ika koia tahan?” Ka ki mai te tane: “Kahore tahi aku ika.” Ka ki atu te wahine: “Tena, e haere koe ki te moana, e hutia, e mau ano tau maka me tau mahe?” Ka ki mai te tane: “Na wai i ki.” Ka hutia ake taku aho kua kore aku maka, kua kore taku mahe.
Na, crua nga wahine a Tinirau i te kainga e noho ana, ko Makaiatuauriuri te ingoa o tetahi, ko Makaiatuauriuri te ingoa o tetahi, Ka tonoa e aua wahine a Ruruwareware raua ko Rurumahara. Rokohina mai e noho ana a
Tinirau rau ko Hineteiwaiwa. Ka titiro, ka hoki atu. Ka ui mai nga wahine: “Keiwhea?” Kiia atu e Ruramahara: “Na ia, kei te kainga wai whakaata.”—“Kei te aha?”—“Kei te noho raua ko tona hoa.” Ka ki atu a Ruruwareware: “Ko Tinirau anake i kitea.” Ka ki atu a Rurumahara: “Erua nga tangata i kitea e an.” Ka ki atu a Ruruwareware: “He parau ia.” Ka ki atu a Rurumahara: “I kitea ano e au, e rua o nga upoko, e wha o nga waewae.” Ka mea nga wahine a Tinirau, ma raua ano e haere.
I noho ano a Tinirau raua ko Hineteiwaiwa i te kainga o nga wai whaka-ata. Ka hemo raua i te kai, ka ki atu te tane: “Haere taua ki te kainga, ka mate taua i te kai.” Ka mea te wahine, kia noho; ka karakia: “Tukutuku iho ana, hekeheke iho ana"—kua pu nga kai ma raua. Ka kai raua i aua kai. Ka hemo raua i te hauaitu, ka ki atu te tane: “Haere taua ki te kainga, ka mate taua i te mataotao.” Ka mea atu te wahine: “Tukutuku iho ana, hekeheke iho ana.”—Kua pu nga weruweru kua mahana raua.
Ka puta mai nga wahine a Tinirau, ka ki atu te waha o Tinirau ki a Hineteiwaiwa: “Kia ata tu i ou taokete.” Ka ki mai tera: “Ahakoa he riri, he hanga kino e haere mai na aua wahine—.” Na, kua tata mai. Tu tonu atu a Hine ki runga, ko te mata ko te rakau i a ia. Homai tou te rakau a tetahi wahine ki a Hine, ka ngaro atu, ka taho. Ka pakaina e Hine ki te rakau, ka mate ra tetahi. Tu tonu mai tetahi; ho mai te rakau. Ka ngaro atu a Hine, ka taha. Ho atu te mata, kua mate tera wahine, tokorua, mate anake. Ka haea nga puku ka karanga a Hine kia Tinirau: Titiro mai i au tamariki.” “Pu ana mai nga mahi i waho, me nga taipu kainga.
Ka noho a Tinirau raua ko Hineteiwaiwa; ka hapu te wahine i a Tinirau. Ka puta mai he tamaiti. A, po maha noa atu noho raua. Ka whiti te rau, ka haere raua ki waho, ki te wahi taumarumaru noho ai. Ka ki atu te wahine: “Hakurekia toku upoko.” Ka hakurekia te upoko o Hine e Tinirau. Ka mutu, ka ki atu te waha a Tinirau: “Hakurekia toku hoki.” A, hakurekia ake e Hineteiwaiwa te upoko o Tinirau.—Ka puta mai te Porewakohu, me te ruru rahi te ahua; i roto a Rupe, he tungane no Hineteiwaiwa. Ka tata mai, ka kitea he tangata: ka tangi mai.
"Ko Rupe—ko Rupe—te tungane;
Ko Hine—ko Hine—te tuahine.”
Ka tangi atu a Hineteiwaiwa.
"Ko au tenei—ko Hine—te-iwaiwa.
Whaia iho e Rupe, ka mauria atu te tuahine me te tamaiti hoki. Ka karanga atu a Tinirau; “E Rupe, whakahokia mai a taua tuahine.” Kahore hoki. Ka riro tonu i a Rupe.—I reira hoki i rongona, ko tetahi ingoa o Hineteiwaiwa, ko Hinetangarumoana.
Na, ka noho tera, a Tinirau; ka mea he ara mahana, kia haere ia ki te wahine. Ko te tupuna, ko Tutunui—he ika no te moana. Piki tonu tera ki runga ki te tupuna haere ai. Ko nga mokaikai tukua ra uta hei whakarongo i nga kainga. Ka tae nga manu ki tena kainga ka tangi, ka rere. A, kei to haere ano a Tinirau i runga i te tupuna, i waho o te moana haere ai.—Ka tutaki ki a ia a Kae, e haere ana i runga i te mokihi. Ka tata mai, ka ki atu te waha a Kae ki a Tinirau: “Ho mai kia whamatau ahau ki runga ki tahau.” Ka ki atu a Tinirau: “Ho mai hoki tahau ki a au.” Ka whiti atu a Kae ki runga ki ta Tinirau: ka whiti atu hoki a Tinirau ki runga ki ta Kae. Ka haere a Kae, ka riro hoki a Tinirau. Ka karanga atu a Tinirau: “Kau-raka e tuku kia papaku te wai; hei te hohonutanga ano hei tuku to taua tupuna.”
Ka rere a Kae. A—, na te wai tanu ka papaku, ru rawa ake a Tutunui i a Kae, kia taka ai ki raro. Kahore hoki kia taka. Ka tae ki te pati; oi noa a Tutunui. Kua mau ia, kua ki te piha i te paruparu. Ka mate a Tutunui, ka kotia katoatia, kainga e Kae.
Ka manu a Tinirau. Kahore hoki kia kaneke te hoe i runga i te mokihi. Ka karanga atu tera ki a Otitipa, ki te wharereperepe. Ka tomo a Tinirau ki roto tere ai. Ka whakarongo ia ki te tangi a nga manu. Ka tae ki te kainga ka tangi nga manu, a ka rere. A—, ka tae ki tetahi kainga e tumo ai te tangi o nga manu, ka mahara tera, ko te kainga ano tenei.
Ka u tera ki uta; ka haere, ka tutaki ki te teina a Hineteiwaiwa. Ka ui atu a Tinirau: “E haere ana koe ki whea?” Ka ki mai taua wahine nei: “E haere ana ahau ki te wahi e patua ma nga weru o toku iramutu, o te tamaiti o Hineteiwaiwa raua ko Tinirau.” Ka ki atu tera: “Ho mai, mahaku hoki e patu etahi.” Ka ki atu te waha o taua teina: “Na wai i ki, mahaku ano e patu.” Ka uaua atu ano a Tinirau, a ka patu etahi. A ka ma, ka ngawari, ka ho atu kia mauria atu.—A, ka tae atu te teina ki te kainga ka korerotia ki te tuakana te tangata i tutaki ki a ia, i patu ra i etahi o te weruweru o te tamaiti. Ka ki atu te waha o te tuakana: “Ho mai ki au etahi karetu nei.” Ka tuponakia e rua. Ka ki atu ki te teina: “Haere koe, pakaina atu te mea tamatane; e mau, ka hoki mai koe.” Ka haere te teina, ka pakaina atu te mea tamatane: Ka hopukina e Tinirau, ka mau. Ka haere te teina ki te kainga, ka ki atu ki te tuakana: “Pakaina atu e au hopukina mai, mau to.” Ka noho raua ko te tuakana.
Ka ahiahi te ra ka ki atu te tuakana: “Akuanei koe ka haere ki te whare tako. E panaina koe ki waho kia uaua tou koe te haere ki roto.” Ka haere te teina, ka tae atu ki te whare, ka aruarua atu mai ki waho. Ka uaua tou tena ki ro o te whare; ka ki atu: “Na Hineteiwaiwa ahau i tono mai.” Ka ki atu nga tangata: “Aua ra kei te whakahou kau koe ki te tamaiti a Hine, he
tamaiti tapu.” Ka ki atu te teina: “Na Hine ano i ki mai, kia haere mai au ki ro o te whare. No te tamaiti hoki ia e ai ona matua hei whakatapu; tena he tamaiti kahore tona matua hei whakatapu—.” A, ka haere ia ki ro o te whare, ka noho.—I te po ano ka whakarongona mai te tatau o te whare o Hine raua ko te tamaiti e uakina ana—he tatau pounamu. Ka karangatia atu e nga tangata: “E Hineteiwaiwa! Ko wai e uakina te whare o te tamaiti?” Ka karangatia e Hineteiwaiwa: “Ko au tenei e haere ana au ki te mianga.” He parau ia, ko Tinirau ia te uaki i te whare. Ka moe raua ko te wahine. Ka ao te ra, ka puta te wahine ki waho, ka karanga: “Tenei ta koutou taokete.” Na, ka heke mai nga tangata kia kite i a Tinirau. Ka haere mai nga hakoro, nga tuahine ka tangi ki a ia. A, ka noho a Tinirau i te kainga o te wahine.
A, ka noho a Tinirau ka whakaaro ki a Tutunui. Ka moe, ka ao ake i te ata. Ka haere ki runga ki te taumata whakamono ai ki a Tutunui, a—ahiahi noa te ra. Ka ao ake i te ata ka haere ki runga ki te taumata whakamono ai. Mahiiti noa nga hau, ka whiti te rawaho; na, kua tae mai te kakara ki te ihu o Tinirau. Ka pepeha tera: “Ai te kakara o Tutunui e ho mai e te hau nei!” A, ka haere mai a Tinirau ki ro o te whare tangi ai. Ka rongona e nga tuahine, ka haere mai ratou ka tangi.—Ka mutu ka ki atu tera ki nga tuahine: “Akuanei haere koutou ki nga pa, ki nga kainga whakarogo ai. Ekore hoki e ngaro i a koutou. Te tangata e mau na nga tupuni ka oti te tuitui nga weruweru. Na, e kata, e pahore nei nga niho, te tangata niho weha ko Kae.”
A, ka haere nga tuahine; ka manu ko nga mokaikai i runga haere ai. A, ka tae ratou ki tetahi kainga, ka haka ratou. Ka mutu te haka ka haere, ka manu ratou. A—ka tae ratou ki te kainga o Kae. Ka tumo te tangi o nga manu. Ka mahara ratou: “Ko te kainga tena; ina hoki kei te tumo te tangi.” Ka u ratou, ka tae ki ro o te whare. Rokohina atu a Kae e noho ana i te poupou tokomanawa. Ka haka ratou. Kahore hoki a Kae kia kata; piko tou a Kae. A, ka ahiahi te ra, ka ka nga ahi, ka marama te whare, ka haka ratou. Ka kata nga tangata, kahore hoki a Kae kia kata. Kohititia ai ratou, ka kata a Kae, te tangata niho weha. Ka mutu ratou, ka rehua a Kae ki te moe.—Ka haere ratou ki waho, ka taia te purerangi, ka taia te rohe.
"Taia te rohe me rohe. Ko te rohe na wai?
Ko te rohe a Maitihitihi, a Mairekareka.
Taia te kohau me kohau. Ko te kohau na wai?
Ko te kohau a Maitihitihi, a Mairekareka.
Taia te kohau me kohau.”
Ka hoki mai ratou ki ro o te whare. Rokohina mai a Kae e moe ana. Ka whai atu, ka hikitia ki roto ki te purerangi; oriori mai ki roto ki te tata. Ka kawea atu a Kae.—A, hei te ata ka tae atu ki te kainga o Tinirau. Ka u. Ka rongona e nga tangata e kata ana nga tuahine. Ka kawea a Kae ki te kainga ka tukua. Ka haere mai a Tinirau. Ka ao te ra ka whakaara i a Kae.
Ka ki atu a Tinirau ki a Kae: “Titiro, nahau ano tenei kainga?” Ka ara a Kae ki runga, ka titiro.—Ka whaia atu te ringa a Kae e Tinirau. Ka aue a Kae. Ka ki atu a Tinirau: “I aue hoki a Tutunui i tona kiri.” Ka patua a Kae hei utu mo Tutunui. Ka ea te mate o tona tupuna.
Ka noho a Tinirau, a—maha noa nga ra i noho ai, kahore hoki i tae ki te mahi kai. Ka haere mai te wahine, a Hineteiwaiwa, ki te hunga wahine noho ai. Ko pono atu e nga wahine: “Kahore ia tou tane e haere ki te mahi kai.” A, ka tangi te wahine, ka haere ki tahaki. Ka kitea e te tane, e Tinirau, ka ki atu tera: “He aha koe e tangi na?” Ka ki atu te wahine: “He pononga mai au, he kinga: kahore tou tane e haere ki te mahi kai mahau.” Ka ki atu te tane: “Kahore, e hua ana, he ki marie mai.”—Ka ahiahi te ra ka ki atu a Tinirau ki te wahine ki a Hineteiwaiwa: “Apopo ka haere ai koe ki au tangata, ki atu ai, kia topea etahi poupou, hei whaihanga i nga whata, i nga whare kai.”—A, ka haere nga tangata ki te tope rakau, ki te pikau mai, ki te hanga whare kai. Ka ahiahi ka noho, ka moe. Auina ake hoki haere ratou ki te mahi rakau. A, ka ki mai te hunga e mahi ana: “Kati. He aha te kai hei uta? “Ki tonu a Tinirau ki te wahine, kia tonoa nga tangata ki te mahi whaihanga whata. A, ka nui te amuamu a nga tangata, ka ki atu, “Kati.” Ka ki atu a Tinirau ki a Hineteiwaiwa: “Haere, ki atu ki nga tangata, kia wahia mai tetahi kauwati.” A, ka wahiatia mai, ka hoatu ki a Tinirau. Ka ahiahi te ra, ka haere ki tatahi ki te pure ki te one-one. Ka oti te pure, ka hoki mai tera ki te kainga. Ka tomo mai tera ki ro o te whare, ka tau mai te ika o te kawa ki te roro o te whare o te tamaiti, takoto ai. Kei ro o to ratou whare nga tangata e moe ana. Na kei te wha-kareia noatia nga ika e te moana. Kakirikiri noa nga ika ki runga ki nga whata, ki runga ki nga kaupapa; whaoa noatia nga iki ki roto ki nga whare kai. Ka hinga nga whata, ka hinga nga kaupapa, ka pakaru nga whare kai, pakaru nga takitaki. Rere tou mai nga ika ki te marae.—I rongo noa nga tangata ki te harurutanga o nga iki, i ronga i te pukarutanga o nga kaupapa: matuku nga tangata.
Ka awatea, ka oho nga tangata, whanaatu ki nga marae; kahore hoki he huanui; he ika anake e pu ana. Kotahi ano te whare i atea, no te tamaiti anake. Kotahi tou te ika i reira, ko te ika anake i te kawa.