door. I will then open the door and you are to dart quickly through it. Then we shall close it from the outside.”
When he had given these instructions, Tamatekapua came down from the roof and made his way to the front of the house, there to await his sister.
When Uenuku and Toi and their people heard the remarks of Whakaturia, condemning as she did their own accomplishments in the art of the haka, they called out: “Lower that person whose mouth is so vain and boastful, so that we may see for ourselves whether she is indeed a master of the art of the haka.”
And so she was lowered. So well had she memorised the instructions of her brother Tamatekapua, that on her first leap, she landed towards the rear of the house where she gesticulated in the frenzied ritual of the “pukana,” taunting and challenging in the direction of Taitehuatahi. Round she leapt a second time and on the third she found herself in position by the doorway. Snatching a glowing ember from the fire which was still burning within the room, she jumped through the door which had now been opened by Tamatekapua and landed on the outside. They quickly closed the door and secured it from the outside.
The ember which Whakaturia had snatched from the fire was kindled against the raupo thatchments of the house which quickly caught alight. Uenuku, Toi and their people, unable to escape, perished in the fire.
In this way did Tamatekapua and his sister, Whakaturia, avenge the killing and eating of their dog, Potaka-tawhiti.
It is said by some that although most of the people perished in the fire, both Uenuku and Toi escaped together with a few others.
This is the end.