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No. 31 (June 1960)
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The New World

the department of maori affairs JUNE 1960

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No. 31 Vol. 8 (No. 3)


This issue of Te Ao Hou is largely given over to recent activities of members of the Maori race in the arts, not, it will be noted, in their traditional fields of arts and crafts, dancing and ceremonial, but those arts performed in the European tradition, in one of which, classical ballet, a Maori theme has been used for the first time this year. There is also an important article on the work of the celebrated painter, Albert Namatjira, who became fashionable in Australia some years before his recent death.

In the last ten years, the theatre in New Zealand has surged with activity. A recent survey disclosed that only the Soviet Union rivals, per head of population, the volume of theatrical activity in New Zealand, though this has been of necessity, almost wholly of amateur status. We have three professional touring companies, of which the New Zealand Players is the largest and reaches the greatest number of people. All these organisations, both amateur and professional have perforce, in their first decades of existence in a newly settled country, given most of their energies to the reproduction of established European and American commercial successes, with, in the more adventurous groups, some attempts at classical drama. But it has for long been clear that theatrical activity in New Zealand could never wholly justify or sustain itself until New Zealanders began writing, designing, dancing, on themes thrown up from their own way of life, and as there are two races in New Zealand, inevitably a vital drama must involve both of them. A start has been made with a play like “The Pohutukawa Tree”, which showed to many millions on BBC television something of the relations between Maori and Pakeha, and the Wellington City Ballet in their recent season, offered a full-scale ballet in two acts by Miss Leigh Brewer, which recounted an ancient legend in the style and tradition of classical ballet. These activities, which we expect to increase greatly in the next few years are vital to the cultural development of both races, and as the article within by Richard Campion reveals, considerable artists are already with us.

There are, however, some difficulties in arousing the interest and participation of Maoris in theatrical activities in the European tradition, even if these involve the Maori people directly. The peculiar kind of concentration involved in Europeanstyle acting stems from the strongly individualistic tradition of Western Europe, alien in many respects to the Maori ideals of community service and performance in a community cause. The sense of it being personal display, the feeling of working alone, sometimes does not appeal to Maoris whose services may be solicited for a play on a Maori theme. The powerful sense of drama that one can observe on ceremonial occasions among the Maori people can often, it seems, take place only in contexts familiar to them from tribal associations. Yet enough good actors have already been produced by the Maori race—Inia te Wiata is one example, Hira Tauwhare another—to suggest that in the future they will lose this reluctance, and work freely in the kind of dramatic literature now being written for them.

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Kei tenei putanga o Te Ao Hou etahi korero mo etahi Maori kua uru ki roto i nga mahi tiata a te Pakeha. He mahi tauhou enei ki to te Maori kaupapa otira he mea hou ano tenei te tuhi purakau he Maori tona kaupapa hei matakitaki ma te ao Pakeha. Kei tenei putanga ano o Te Ao Hou nga korero mo te mangumangu o Ahitereiria ra mo Albert Namatjira tera tangata rongonui he ta whakaahua tana mahi, no tenei tau tata tonu i mate ai.

Kei whea mai te tipunga o Te Ao o Te Tiata o Niu Tireni i roto o tenei tekau tau. Ka mutu ano pea te whenua i kaha ake te tipunga o Te Tiata ko Ruhia. Ka nui nga ropu whakaata o Te Tiata kei te haere i Niu Tireni otira ko te ropu rahi rawa pea ko Te Ropu Whakaata o Niu Tireni. Kei te whakaata te nuinga o enei ropu i nga mahi o Te Ao Tawhito o te Pakeha. Ka aua atu e koroiingo ana Te Ao o Te Tiata kia tuhia e etahi tangata o Nui Tireni nei etahi korero no Niu Tireni ano te kaupapa hei whakaata i te noho a te Pakeha raua ko te Maori—he mea nui rawa tenei. Kua puta tetahi korero ko “Te Pohutukawa” tona ingoa a kei te matakitakitia e te hia miriona tangata kei tua o te ao i runga o te mea tipua o te “Television”. Ko te kaupapa o tenei korero ko te noho tahi a te Pakeha raua ko te Maori. Kei Poneke hoki tetahi whakaata tiata he kanikani tona kaupapa ko te kaikanikani ko Miss Leigh Brewer, he whakaati i roto i to te Tiata Pakeha i tona reo i a te Maori mahi te tikanga o taua kanikani.

He mea uaua rawa atu te whakaohooho i te wairua o te Maori kia tahuri mai ki enei mahi a te Pakeha. He rereke tonu pea no enei tu mahi i koroukore ai te Maori. Ko ta te Pakeha hoki he mawi takitahi wo ta te Maori he ohu ko te hua o nga mahi a te takitini. Na konei pea i takitahi rawa ai te kitea o te Maori i roto i nga mahi Tiata, ka mutu ano nga mea e mohiotia ake ana ko Inia te Wiata raua ko Hira Tauwhare. Taihoa ake nei pea ka whakaputa ko etahi atu.

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The late John David Lake was born at Christ-church in January, 1913. He was educated at the Riccarton Public School and the West Christ-church District High School. He qualified as an accountant by attending night classes after he left school and his first position was with Ford Dealers in Christchurch where he started as a junior.

After he had qualified as an accountant, he transferred to Westport and acted as accountant to John Kilkenny Limited, the Ford dealers, for some years. He married in Westport and later transferred to Linwood Motors Limited, in Wanganui. He was with this firm, who are the General Motors dealers there, for some years during the Second World War. He was medically unfit for military service.

In 1945, he returned to Christchurch to join his brother, Mr H. R. Lake, in the practice of public accountancy and since 1945, he was a partner first in the firm of Lake and Lake, and later of Lake, Lake, Glynn and Smith.

In his younger days, he was a keen footballer and while in Christchurch he played senior grade football there, and represented Buller. In his later years he played golf and bowls. At the time of his death, he was a member of the Christchurch Golf Club. He leaves a wife and small daughter.


Mr Ngakoma Ngamane, elder of the Ngati-Tamatera tribe of the Thames district, died recently. He was 73 years of age. The greater part of his life was spent on the Coromandel Peninsula. He was highly respected among Maori and Pakeha alike, and interested himself in political matters, Maori history, and anything concerning the betterment of the Maori people. Mr Ngamane was president of the Colville School Committee and secretary for over ten years. He was instrumental in settling the question of the present school site. He was engaged in patriotic affairs during both world wars, was always interested in sport, particularly football, and was a keen fisherman. He was buried at Kopuarahi Maori cemetery, Paeroa.


Mr Tawake Matenga, of Ratana, died recently as a result of a road accident at Waitotara. Mr Matenga was a returned soldier of the second world war, in which he served with the Maori Battalion. As a result of one action in which he took a leading part, he was awarded the Military Medal. Mr Matenga had a long army career, arriving in England with the Maori Battalion in 1940 and he saw fighting in most of the campaigns in which the New Zealand division in the Middle East was engaged. Eventually, he became Company Sergeant Major. After the war, Mr Matenga carried on his military interests as a member of the Wellington-West Coast-Taranaki Regiment. Full military honours were accorded him at his funeral at Ratana Pa.


The well-known Ngati-Porou chief and elder, Mr Hira Paenga, died recently. He was a respected authority on Maori culture and lore, prominently associated with many organisations and committees. He was a pillar of the Church of England, representing the Whangara parish of the Waiapu diocese in Synod. He was also an East Coast member of the Te Aute Trust Board.


A pakeha who was recognised as one of the foremost authorities on the Maori language, Mr Harold Wills, died recently at Napier. He was 71. He taught Maori at both Te Aute and Hukarere Colleges and wrote a text book and reader for students of the language. He had almost completed a text-book at the time of his death. A son of the Rev. T. J. Wills and Mrs Wills, he was born at Opotiki and moved to Hawke's Bay when his father became curate of the Ormondville-Makotuku district. Mr Wills matriculated at Te Aute College, attended the Auckland University and then returned to Hawke's Bay to teach at the Port Ahuriri School, Napier. After a spell of teaching at Te Aute, Mr Wills became headmaster of the Otaki Maori College, which closed shortly before the War of 1939. In recognition of his achievements, Mr Wills was “adopted” into the Ngati-Raukawa tribe.

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Haera ki o koutou tipuna 3
Farming Newsletter 55
Books 49
Records 54
The Home Garden 56
Crossword Puzzle 60
Te Rauparaha, part 2: South Island Raids and the Arrival of the “Tory”, by W. Carkeek 10
Puhiwahine, Maori Poetess, part 4, by Pei Te Hurinui Jones 17
A Leader Passes: Maharaia Winiata 6
The Unesco Regional Seminar at Wellington, by S. M. Mead 9
Maoridom and Theatre, by Erle Nelson 15
The Improvement of Maori Land Titles; the fourth article by Toitu te Whenua 21
Albert Namatjira, by Evelyn Patuaua 24
Personality Study I: Eruera Tihema Tirikatene 30
The Ruatoki Declaration 34
Children of the Mist 35
Two Maori Actresses, by Richard Campion 37
The Waitara Swamp Search, by H. D. B. Dansey 40
The Best of both Worlds; a story by Barry Mitcalfe 45
Karapiti, a legend, by George Phipps Williams 61

The Minister of Maori Affairs: The Rt. Hon. Walter Nash.

The Secretary for Maori Affairs: J. K. Hunn.

Management Committee:

Chairman: B. E. Souter, Asst. Secretary. Members: W. Herewini, M. R. Jones, W. T. Ngata, B. E. G. Mason, G. H. Stanley, M. J. Taylor.

Editor: B. E. G. Mason.

Associate Editor (Maori text): W. T. Ngata, Lic. Int.

Sponsored by the Maori Purposes Fund Board. Subscriptions to Te Ao Hou at 7/6 per annum (4 issues) or £1 for three years' subscriptions at all offices of the Maori Affairs Department and P.O. Box 2390, Wellington, New Zealand.

Registered at G.P.O., Wellington, for transmission through the post as a magazine.

Editorial Address: P.O. Box 2390, Wellington



Brief Notices

Cover Photo: A young Dutch photographer, Miss A. Westra, in New Zealand visiting relatives, took the charming child study on the cover just outside Ohinemutu Church. Another study will appear on the cover in the September issue.

The Editor wishes to apologise for the lateness of appearance of Issue 31, but he was unavoidably committed to a three-month tour of the country under the auspices of Adult Education. This apology should also be made to correspondents, who may have had to wait some time before their correspondence and contributions were acknowledged.

Back Issues: As previously stated, the supply of some back issues has become very short. No. 16 can be purchased, but the price will now be 5/- instead of 3/-, and back issue No. 9 is now so scarce that it must be withdrawn from sale.

Renewal Stickers: If your subscription is expiring, you will find an expiry sticker on the wrapper of your issue. Please examine the wrapper carefully and if the sticker appears on it, send us a renewal as soon as possible on the form enclosed with the issue.

Contributions in Maori: Ko tetahi o nga whakaaro nui o Te Ao Hou he pupuri kia mau te reo Maori. Otira ko te nuinga o nga korero kei te tukua mai kei te reo Pakeha anake. Mehemea hoki ka nui mai nga korero i tuhia ki te reo Maori ka whakanuia ake te wahanga o ta tatou pukapuka mo nga korero Maori.

A Disclaimer. The Department of Maori Affairs does not hold itself responsible for the opinions expressed by contributors to Te Ao Hou. We do our best to check the facts, but the responsibility for statements in signed articles remains the author's alone.

The magazine as a text in schools. Our subscription rate for schools is 4/- per year (min. 5 subscriptions).

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Maharaia Winiata, at Turangawaewae Pa, Ngaruawahia, 1950. (PHOTO G. H. BURT LTD.)


Dr Maharaia Winiata, New Zealand's foremost Maori scholar, possibly the most outstanding of contemporary Maori leaders, died in Tauranga Hospital on April 6th, aged 48.

He collapsed on 3rd April at Judea Pa, Tauranga, where he was taking an active and leading role in organising a mass meeting of the followers of the Maori king movement (Pokai). Dr Winiata collapsed soon after making a spirited speech. He was taken to hospital but did not regain consciousness.

He was the first Maori to become a doctor of philosophy and the only Maori to gain his doctorate at Edinburgh University. The work that he did while in the United Kingdom has become famous. Tales are told of how he regularly closeted himself in his room for nine or ten hours at a time so that he could devote himself to his studies without interruption. He brought the same concentrated, intense, thorough approach to all his work, and his thesis for his doctorate, “The Changing role of the Leader in Maori Society” was widely acclaimed. A tribute from Dr Kenneth Little, Head of the Department of Social Anthropology, Edinburgh, appears below.

Born at Ngahina Pa. Ruatoki, in September 1912, Dr Winiata was educated at the Tauranga primary school and District High School. After gaining his University Entrance, he studied at Auckland University College as a part-time student for his B.A. degree. He later taught at several secondary schools. Two years later, he gained his M.A. degree also as a part-time student, and taught at Rotokawa Maori School, Rotorua, and at Wesley College, Paerata. In 1949, he was appointed the first Maori education officer in Auckland, a position he held until his death. Three years later, he became the first Maori to win a Nuffield Fellowship, which enabled him to study at Edinburgh University. While in the United Kingdom, Dr Winiata was associated with the production of the film “The Seekers”, from the late John Guthrie's novel. In it, he played the old tohunga.

Dr Winiata was an ordained Methodist Minister. Before taking up teaching, he had completed the Trinity College course for the Methodist Ministry, and was in active Ministerial work for a time. He remained a devout Methodist to the end.

A brilliant speaker in the highest and best traditions of Maori oratory, Dr Winiata was also a forceful and fiery personality, and an incisive thinker. He was a magnificent fighter and advocate, a great champion for the Maori people. Much had been expected of him in the difficult days that lie ahead for the Maori people.

Dr Winiata is survived by his wife and five young children.

Tributes to Maharaia Winiata have come from all over the world; some of them appear below.

From Dr Kenneth Little, Head of the Department of Social Anthropology, Edinburgh:

“As you know, his dissertation entitled “The Changing Role of the Leader in Maori Society” was accepted for the University Ph.D. and Winiata was the first Maori to win a doctorate from a United Kingdom University. Winiata came to us without any very extensive training in Social Anthropology and what strongly impressed me from the start was his willingness and determination to equip himself for his sociological task. He worked very hard at this as well as at his material, so hard in fact that he became quite ill for a time. The fact, therefore, that he eventually made up the leeway in this respect and succeeded in turning out a really useful contribution to the theory of race relations in New Zealand is extremely commend-

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able. It was due, not only to his unceasing energy and conscientious spirit, but also to his abiding interest in the history, the present and the future of his people. The latter interest is reflected very strikingly in the form in which he wrote his thesis. Winiata impressed my colleagues and myself not only by his determined acquisition of methods of scholarly research but by his charm and unfailing friendliness. We gained great affection for him and were looking forward to the time when he would pay a return visit to Edinburgh.

I was in correspondence with Winiata some little time before his death about the publication of his work and it is my sincere hope that ways can be found of getting this study into print. It would be a fitting memorial to him not only as a scholar but to the indomitable spirit which I am sure is activating many other Maoris as it did Winiata himself.”

From G. Blake-Palmer, Director, Division of Mental Hygiene, Department of Health:

“Maha had the happy gift of retaining friendships which he formed in the ‘two worlds’ in which he was able to move so freely. His gifts, scholarship and eloquence in expressing his many and fertile ideas left a very strong impression on those who heard him, whether he spoke among his own people or on a more academic occasion, before a learned society.

“At the A.N.Z.A.A.S. Science Congress held in Dunedin in 1957, he gave a brilliant and stirring address which was the occasion of many warm tokens of appreciation from all who had the privilege of listening to him. As Secretary of the Anthropology Section of the A.N.Z.A.A.S. Conference, I have been in touch with the President of the Section, Professor Andrew Abbie, now at the Department of Anatomy, Yale University School of Medicine, and with Professor Raymond Firth of the London School of Economics, both of whom attended the Conference. Professor Firth also remembered Winiata well as a student in London.”

Professor Abbie writes:

“It was my privilege to be Chairman of Section ‘F’, A.N.Z.A.A.S. 1957, when Dr Winiata gave his most eloquent and memorable address on the Maori. It was my opinion at the time—and this was supported subsequently by other listeners—that he was an unusually talented man, clearly destined to become the spokesman and leader of his people.

“The Maori must feel that his untimely death, hastened perhaps by his untiring efforts on their behalf, is a tremendous personal loss. At the same time, every European New Zealander must regret equally the loss of such an ornament of their University and the most able interpreter of Maori ideals to the European. In comparison, my own personal regret must seem very small, but it is very real.”

Professor Firth writes:

“I had indeed heard of Maha Winiata's death. What a tragic loss.

I remember his brilliant and warm speech at the Dunedin Conference. What I do remember much more vividly is his period with us in London. With Kenneth Little's permission, he came down to spend a term with us and was a most active and respected member of our seminar. It was a delight to see how he entered into the spirit of theoretical enquiry and how rapidly he absorbed and used effectively the conceptions of social anthropology. He read several very good papers and was able to contribute very pertinent illustrations of aspects of social change from his own wealth of experience. We all liked him for his intelligence and enthusiasm. It is a tragedy that, partly due to his many other preoccupations and especially to his early death, he was not able to pursue his genuine interest in anthropological matters.”


The reaction at Tauranga when the news was known was stunned unbelief, but the members of the Ngati-Ranginui of Judea, in spite of still being tired from their work over the week-end for the Kingi-Pokai, manned Tamatea Pokaiwhenua and swung into action for what eventually turned out to be the biggest tangi ever held in the district.

The action of the New Zealand Broadcasting Service in following the nine o'clock news broadcast on which the death was announced by a eulogy from Mr Jones, and a passage of quiet music, was deeply appreciated by those who had time to listen, and especially by Mrs Winiata, who, with her family listened privately on their car radio.

It is difficult to compute with accuracy what the number of mourners was; ten thousand has been suggested, as it is known that thirteen thousand meals were served over the four days. At the service, it was estimated that 2,500 people were present. The action of the Waikato King contingent, in manning the whare-kai towards the end of proceedings was appreciated by the local people who by that time, were suffering rather severely from strain and fatigue.

There came to the marae the Hon. E. T. Tirikatene and the official government group: Mrs Tirikatene, Messrs M. R. and P. Te H. Jones and others, W. H. Cocker, Chancellor of the Auckland University, S. G. Morrison, Director of Adult Education; M. te Hau, W. G. Rosenberg, of the School of Architecture; Dr M. Groves, Mr Bilmer, School of Anthropology; J. Waititi, K. Dewes, Colonel Awatere, Mrs Wright and Mrs Cooper, of the Maori Women's Welfare League; Bishop Panapa, the Mayor of Tauranga, the Mayor of Auckland, and many other distinguished people.

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The funeral oration was given by Rev. A. Everil Orr, Auckland, president of the Methodist Church of New Zealand. He said that with the death of Dr Winiata, one of God's good men, a prince had fallen. The loss was great and could not be described. Dr Winiata had made a great contribution to New Zealand and had seen his own influence grow and his ideals begin to spread. A man of many qualities, he was fearless in acknowledging what he believed to be right and because of these qualities, his stature would grow with the years, said Mr Orr.

Dr Winiata had found his religion and his works a release from his great energies and abilities, both of which were given without stint.

“His gifts of humanity and sincerity had helped him to break down many barriers. He had love in his heart and compassion in his soul. He died bravely and well and we say farewell with gratitude for the long days we were privileged to spend with him.”


Entries are invited for the fifth Te Ao Hou competition series. This year, there are three sections: stories in English, stories in Maori, and black and white drawings, and the prize for each section will be ten guineas (£10 10s.). Stories must have a length of at least 1,000 words, on any subject of the author's choice, although it is hoped that many of the contributions will be related to some aspect of Maori life. Persons and places may be either true or fictitious.

Manuscripts should be sent to the editor of Te Ao Hou, P.O. Box 2390, Wellington, clearly marked COMPETITION in block letters, before the closing date, September 30th. The judges will be Mr M. R. Jones for the Maori section, the Editor of Te Ao Hou for the English.

Black and white drawings should be made on clean white paper, and the subject may be anything the artist choose, though again, we hope that it will relate to Maori life. The judge will be the well-known New Zealand artist, Eric Lee-Johnson. Drawings should be clearly marked COMPETITION in block letters and sent to The Editor, Te Ao Hou, P.O. Box 2390, to reach him before September 30th, 1960.

The prize stories and drawings will be published in the December issue of Te Ao Hou.


Till the pakeha made a more effective effort to understand the Maori people, there would be no successful solution to the Maori's problem, said the Reverend I. J. Cupwell, headmaster of St Paul's Maori College, Parorangi, Feilding.

Addressing the annual conference of the Association of the Heads of Independent Schools of New Zealand, Father Cupwell said that there was an implicit obligation on the Maori to understand the European, but little in the other direction.

The pakeha attitude to the native race was largely emotional and sentimental, somewhere between the views that the Maori was the victim of exploiting whites and that the Maori was incapable of being helped.

“The truth,” he said, “is that the Maori is human like ourselves and had his problems too—but his big one is adjustment to a way of life far removed from that which shaped his.”

The old life of the Maori had a strong cultural core based on the marae, the meeting house, and the dwelling, all of which embodied his ancestral lore. Family life was strong.

The Maori did not want to return to the old ways, but a lot of them were necessary and of value. “He recognises that modern life has a lot to offer, but he resents the pakeha feeling that there is nothing in Maoridom to admire and no interest in his language, songs and lore.”

When Maoris held huis all over the country, the pakehas smiled; but they did not comment on Scots, Irish or Welshmen meeting together and keeping alive their traditions.

The Maori entered school with little or no culture because his old family life had gone. In competition with pakeha children, he was at a disadvantage. That was why he set such store on Maori boarding schools.

“Don't judge the Maori race by those you see hanging on street corners. They no more represent their race than the pakehas on the same corners represent theirs. We pity the Maori because he won't fuss or fret. The Maori pities us for doing that. I think he may be right,” concluded the Rev. Cupwell.

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The Unesco Seminar in session. From left: the Korean delegate, Mr W. N. Suhr, Mr S. M. Mead, the author of this article, Mrs P. Hattaway, Editor of School Publications, Mr R. Champman-Taylor, Curriculum Officer, Education Department. (N.P.S. PHOTOGRAPH).

The UNESCO Seminar is now over. The delegates who come from 25 nations have returned to their home knowing a little more about New Zealand and its people, than they did before they came. I have returned to my small corner in Waimarama, knowing a lot more about these other nations than what I knew, when I ventured forth to the city to attend the seminar. A conference of this type is truly an educator in itself. New friendships were made, one's horizons were forced to expand beyond the confines of the little box which comprises our own personal world; and, knowing more about the other fellow, we can appreciate his problems and perhaps be more ready to offer a helping hand, when required of us.

We lived together for three weeks—a mixture of nationalities, of languages, of colour and of personalities, welded together by similar problems. This meant eating together and talking, working together and talking, relaxing together and talking, travelling and talking. Talking about our respective peoples; discussing language problems, translation problems; differences in culture, in climate; discussing school publications; finding ways and means of giving each other more accurate and less biased information about our respective countries, and all the time drawing closer together until the moment for departure which came all too soon and like the seed of the thistle each delegate flew away.

(Continued on page 52)

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Te Rauparaha's fleet approaching Kaiapoi. (TURNBULL LIBRARY PHOTOGRAPH)

Part 2: South Island Raids and the Arrival of the “Tory”

HAVING SUBDUED the tribes living on the West Coast of the Wellington province in the early 1820's Te Rauparaha became the undisputed master of Cook Strait. He had built up and encouraged a brisk trade with visiting whalers and sealers through whom it is said he was the sole channel by which others obtained supplies of European goods. In his dealing with some of the white traders he was often arrogant and bullying, always demanding more than had been bargained for from those he considered too timid to ignore his threats. Most of the Europeans, however, were not slow to realise that his power and influence over other tribes depended largely on the trade their ships had to offer. “Tis for the interest of these natives to keep on good terms with us,” wrote the Captain of an American whaler, “as they know if ships are hindered coming here, adieu to their darling tobacco, muskets and pipes”.

Although European goods were always in keen demand there was one other commodity which Te Rauparaha longed to monopolise the trade of. This was the coveted waipounamu, or greenstone of the South Island. It would have been contrary to Maori etiquette, and a breach of the rules of warfare for any chief to attack another without just cause of provocation. Thus when a certain Ngaitahu chief of Kaikoura named Rerewaka openly boasted that if Te Rauparaha dared set foot on his land, he would rip his belly open with a niho manga (shark's tooth knife), the challenge was gleefully accepted by the Northern invader as a perfectly good excuse to wage war against the whole of the Ngaitahu tribe residing in the South Island. He lost no time in equipping his warriors with newly acquired muskets and powder, and towards the end of 1828 a large fleet of canoes, many of which had been captured at Kapiti in the battle of Waiorua, set sail on a campaign against the Southerners. A branch of the Rangitane living at Wairau and Queen Charlotte Sound were known to have taken part in the assault on Waiorua along with the Ngatikuia of Pelorus, as well as the

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Ngatiapa and Tumata-kokiri of D'Urville Island, and it was therefore decided to wreak vengeance in that quarter before moving on to Kaikoura.

The invaders moved swiftly, and with terrifying effect, until the whole of the Northern portion of the Marlborough Province had been thoroughly invested and the inhabitants either killed and eaten or finally forced into subjection. When the “Tory” visited Pelorus in 1839 E. J. Wakefield observed that the Ngatitoa had been so thorough in their task of eradicating the Ngatikuia that “only a few poor natives were seen, and these were engaged in dressing flax for their conqueror, Rauparaha, to enable him to purchase more muskets to continue his devastating raids.” Ngatitoa were assisted in this invasion by other tribes. Arapawa and Queen Charlotte Sounds had apparently been singled out for the Puketapu and Ngatirahiri hapus of Atiawa, while the conquest of Tasman Bay was undertaken mainly by Ngatirarua and Ngatitama.

It was during the height of these attacks that Rauparaha was rejoined by his relative, Te Pehi Kupe, who had journeyed to England in 1824 solely for the purpose of asking King George for muskets. Although unsuccessful in his request for firearms he received from the King many valuable presents which he traded for muskets at Sydney on his way home. With these additional arms, and the assistance of Te Pehi's able leadership, Te Rauparaha turned his canoes towards Kaikoura. Here the defenders were taken completely by surprise, hundreds were killed and many more taken into captivity, including the boastful Rerewaka, who some time later suffered at Kapiti the fate he had insolently predicted for his captor.

Flushed by the success of these Southern conquests, Te Rauparaha began formulating plans for an assault on Kaiapohia, one of the most formidable strongholds in the South Island. But before putting these plans into effect he decided to accede to a request from Ngatiraukawa that a war party should be sent up to Whanganui in order to avenge the death of Te Ruemaioro who had been killed on the heke southward. The following is a brief reference to the Whanganui expedition as reported by Rauparaha's son Tamihana:—

“After some time Rauparaha consented to this request. A war party left for Whanganui, including some of the Ngatiawa Tribe, to attack the pa at Putikiwharanui which was held by one thousand warriors twice told; for in those days the Whanganui were a numerous people. This pa was invested for two months before it was taken, and some of the defenders escaped up the Whanganui river. The chief Turoa was not taken, nor Hori Kingi Te Anaua who escaped by dint of his power to run. Thus the Ngatiraukawa obtained revenge for their dead.”

It may be of interest at this stage to trace from an earlier period some of the events which led up to the attempt on Kaiapohia. When Ngatimutunga attacked the Ngatiira of Port Nicholson at about 1823 they succeeded in defeating that tribe whose remnants were forced on to the small island at Wellington called Taputeranga. The area is known today as Island Bay. Amongst those who managed to escape from the island in canoes were Tamairangi, a chieftainess of great fame. With her little group of Ngatiira she fled by way of Cape Terimurapa (Sinclair Head), and Cape Terrawhiti to Ohariu Bay on Cook Strait situated due west of Wellington. Here she was held prisoner by a hostile band of Ngatiawa who were in company with Te Rangihaeta and some of his people. S. Percy Smith's account of the incident is as follows: —

“Dreading, however, that the usual rate would meet her, she asked her captors to be allowed to sing a farewell to her people and her lands. This lament was of so pathetic a nature that it appealed to Te Rangihaeta of Ngatitoa, who begged Atiawa that she might be given to him, and, on their compliance, she and her children were taken to Kapiti Island where they lived for some time.”

One of Tamairangi's sons was a handsome young chief named Te Kekerangu, and during his stay on Kapiti gossip was rife that he had been guilty of an affair with one of Te Rangihaeta's wives. Fearing the wrath of his overlord, Kekerangu consulted his mother who decided that they should flee to the South Island for in Rangihaeta's jealous eyes the penalty for such a crime would be nothing less than death. Little time was lost in preparing for their escape, and having secured a canoe with suitable provisions they slipped quietly away under cover of darkness. Kekerangu's flight to the South Island coincided with Rauparaha's plans to attack Kaiapohia. As the Ngaitahu were believed to be sheltering him the wily Te Rauparaha suggested this as a sufficient excuse for launching a further attack on that tribe.

Late in the year 1829 a large Ngatitoa war party headed by the chiefs Te Rauparaha, Te Pehi and Te Rang [ unclear: ] haeta landed at Kaikoura where they found that the fugitives had fled further south with most of the Ngaitahu of that district. They were overtaken at Omihi where a battle ensued in which most of the Ngaitahu were killed, the rest having escaped to Kaiapohia. Te Kekerangu is believed to have escaped from Omihi with his relatives to a place twenty-two miles from Cape Campbell. Nothing certain is known of his fate but the story is told that Ngaitahu in their eagerness to gain revenge for their defeat at Omihi regarded Te Kekerangu as the main cause of their trouble and forthwith sent out a war party who killed him at a river which still commemorates his name to this day.

Some of the Ngatitoa war party remained at Omihi in charge of prisoners while the remainder journeyed to Kaiapohia. On his arrival at this pa Te Rauparaha deceitfully assumed a peaceful attitude towards the occupants, pretending that he had come only for the purpose of bartering firearms for greenstone. His treacherous intent was immediately suspected by Ngaitahu, who although they began trading with some of the Northern chiefs, were anxious to strike the first blow. They

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hoped by feigning the utmost cordiality towards their visitors that they would succeed in enticing Rauparaha within the confines of the pa. But after three days he was still reluctant to enter, and at this stage it was the over-confident Te Pehi who made the first blunder. While bargaining for a piece of greenstone within the pa, he lost his temper with a Ngaitahu chief to whom he sarcastically remarked, “why do you with the crooked tattoo, resist my wishes—you whose nose will shortly be cut off with a hatchet?” Within a few minutes all entrances to the pa were closed and Ngaitahu began a general massacre of their guests. Te Pehi, Pokaitara, Te Aratangata, and several other chiefs were quickly despatched and their bodies consigned to the ovens. Meanwhile Te Rauparaha hastily withdrew to Omihi where he sought immediate consolation by having all prisoners captured on the way down put to death. Some months later when the English brig “Elizabeth” put in at Kapiti the sagacious Rauparaha persuaded the ship's master, Captain Stewart, to have himself and an armed force conveyed to Akaroa. With Stewart's help they managed to entice Tamaiharanui, the leading Ngaitahu chief of that place, to come on board. The unfortunate chief was soon clapped in irons, and after some of his people had been killed and their mutilated bodies placed in the ship's coppers, the “Elizabeth” returned in triumph to Kapiti. Tamaiharanui was taken to Otaki where he was handed over to Tiaia, the widow of Te Pehi, who with savage cruelty tortured him to death by driving an iron ramrod through his neck.

A second attempt on Kaiapohia proved successful. After a lengthy siege of the pa Te Rauparaha had his warriors dig two lines of sap up to within eight feet of the pallisading. They then piled dry brushwood at the head of the sap in preparation for burning as soon as a favourable wind offered. The defenders anticipating this move tried to frustrate the plan by firing the brushwood while the wind blew in the opposite direction. A sudden change, however, proved disastrous, and before long the fire had enabled the enemy to make the necessary breach by which they gained entry. There followed the usual slaughter and customary cannibalistic feasting, after which the invaders returned to Kapiti.

This was the last expedition which Te Rauparaha made against the pas of the South Island but it was by no means his last encounter with the still powerful Ngaitahu who, in the years that followed, led many raiding assaults on the settlements he had established in the Marlborough Province. On one occasion during a bird hunting trip to the Vernon Lagoons and Lake Grassmere (Kaparate-

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Mausoleum of Te Rauparaha's eldest sister Waitoki on Mana Island. She died in 1839, and this richly ornamented tomb was constructed a short distance from Rangihaeta's pa. It was made of wood painted and decorated with feathers. The border of a splendid kaitaka mat is seen hanging in front of the papa tupapaku (within which the body was originally placed in a sitting posture.) All the ground within the rail was strictly tapu. (TURNBULL LIBRARY PHOTOGRAPH)

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hau), Rauparaha and his party were taken completely off guard by a Ngaitahu war party. A Ngatikuri chief managed to seize him a short distance from where his canoes were hastily embarking, and although he was held for some moments in a tight grip, the elusive old warrior wriggled free leaving only his cloak in the hands of his captor. According to traditional accounts he then swam out to one of the canoes where on finding it overloaded he ordered some of its occupants overboard to make room for himself.

The year 1839 saw the beginning of a new era in the southern part of New Zealand. Tamihana Te Rauparaha recorded that at this time “Christianity was first proclaimed in this part, and Matere Te Whiwhi and I went to Tokerau (Bay of Islands) to bring a minister to this end of the North Island, so we might put an end to the desire for war in Rauparaha's mind”. The result of this journey was the arrival some months later of the Rev. Octavius Hadfield, a man who quickly exercised a profound influence over the tribes under Rauparaha's control. Later in the same year the death occurred on Mana Island of Rangihaeta's mother Waitohi. She was Te Rauparaha's eldest sister, and as was customary on the passing of an important person a huge gathering of the local tribes was assembled. As many as three thousand people were said to have been present. A Rangitane slave who had come to bring tribute from his people at Pelorus was killed by Te Rauparaha and served up as a delicacy for some of the more honoured guests.

During this meeting a dispute arose between Ngatiawa and Ngatiraukawa when the old grievances were aired and bitter hatred was renewed. Fighting broke out between the two tribes at Waikanae where the Ngatiraukawa had to pass a large Ngatiawa settlement while returning to their homes after the tangi. This conflict, in which the Ngatiawa succeeded in completely routing their opponents on the beach near Waikanae, was known as the battle of Te Kuititanga. It is important as being the last of the tribal wars in the southern part of New Zealand. E. J. Wakefield, in his journal, describes his arrival at Kapiti in the “Tory” on the day following the dispute. After meeting Te Rauparaha, Wakefield, accompanied by the ship's surgeons, crossed over to the scene of the battle, where they attended to some of the wounded. Te Rauparaha had taken no part in the fight, but in Wakefield's opinion he had been the instigator, having incited Ngatiraukawa to annoy the Ngatiawa on their first arrival from Taranaki. He says, “feuds, bloody wars, and a bitter hatred of each other had been the consequence; and some of their old grievances had been revived by their meeting at Mana. Rauparaha cunningly fanned the flame and mutual insults and recriminations followed.” According to Rusden the quarrel was about Wakefield's own ill-omened gifts at Port Nicholson. A fact that was admitted by the natives of both sides.

Disputes over the payment and sale of land to the New Zealand Company were quite common and followed in the wake of the “Tory” at many of her ports of call. Even Te Rauparaha and Rangihaeta actually came to blows over the sharing of goods received for the sale of some land purchased from them by the pakeha. This fight was witnessed by Te Rau-O-Te Rangi who as a little girl was one of the crowd of natives who gathered on the beach near Taupo pa at Plimmerton to watch the two chiefs do battle with Maori weapons. Neither of them was badly hurt and evidently no serious consequences resulted. Wake-field's impression of Te Rauparaha and Te Rangihaeta is summed up in the following extract from his “Adventure in New Zealand”.

“Their respective stations were pithily described by one of the whalers, who told us that ‘the Robuller’, as he mispronounced his name, ‘cast the bullets, and the Rangihaeta shot them’. Rauparaha was the mind and his mate the body on these blackmail gathering rounds. They had both acquired a violent taste for grog; and this, and firearms and powder, were the principle articles demanded.” Although Colonel Wakefield, on behalf of the New Zealand Company, had claimed to have purchased most of the land in the vicinity of Cook Strait, certain misunderstandings arose between both parties to the sale. It was evident that the native signatories to the deed, amongst whom were Rangihaeta and Rauparaha, had signed away large tracts of land which they had not intended parting with, and they had also put their signatures to a transaction which included huge territories where they had little or no title whatsoever. With the arrival of Capt. Hobson, the first British Government Agent, a proclamation was published declaring all land sales void. A court of enquiry had been set up, and a Mr Spain had been appointed as Land Commissioner to thoroughly investigate all claims.

Early in 1841 the Ngatitoa tribe began to voice a strong disapproval of European settlement in the Porirua district. Both Rauparaha and Rangihaeta emphatically denied having sold that area, and the ferocious Rangihaeta had crossed over from Mana to tell the white settlers that under no circumstances would he part with the land. He wished it for his people, and would maintain his right, but acknowledged himself a British subject having signed the Treaty of Waitangi with his uncle and other chiefs at Kapiti in the previous year. Colonel Wakefield was nevertheless insistent that the land belonged to the Company by right of purchase, and he was determined that a European settlement be established there. Work had already been started on the cutting of a road through to the new proposed Porirua settlement, and in April 1841 Mr C. H. Kettle was sent to survey the area.

Kettle soon found on his arrival that Rangihaeta had given explicit instructions to his tribe to obstruct all attempts by the Europeans to survey the place. During the first few days Kettle

– 14 –

reported that the progress of surveying was becomingly exceedingly difficult, and every morning he awoke to find that the station posts had been removed by the natives. Rangihaeta was at that time on Mana Island although he also had a pa on the mainland at Porirua where he was sometimes known to reside for short periods. Kettle constantly dreaded his arrival. He was fortunate that rough seas prevented the chief from crossing over during the first two weeks and taking an active part in obstructing the work. In the meantime he avoided all conversation with the natives as he considered that his very presence there was in itself dangerous enough. When at last Rangihaeta did arrive the unfortunate surveyor was compelled to abandon his work and return to Port Nicholson without delay. He told a committee of the House of Commons a year or two later that his life was in danger when the chief landed. “As soon as he came on shore,” said Kettle, “he knocked me down, and made me go away immediately, and we were not on friendly terms.”

Throughout the following year Rangihaeta created further disturbances in preventing the settlers from occupying the Porirua district. At a public meeting in Wellington a resolution was passed expressing “the willingness of the entire population to assist the sheriff in the due execution of the law.” When brought to the attention of the Police Magistrate. Mr Murphy, his only reply was that when he thought it expedient he would call upon them. The agent for the land lodged informations against Rangihaeta for riot, etc., with the Crown Prosecutor, who filed an indictment upon which the agent applied to Mr Murphy to issue process in the shape of a capias, to arrest the chief. In a letter, to Capt. Hobson dated 29 April 1842, Murphy explained “I declined to have anything to do with the matter as it had been taken entirely out of my hands and because a capias could only be issued by a court competent to try the offence.”

While Te Rauparaha had established a large pa on the mainland at Plimmerton called Taupo he had in the meantime taken up temporary residence at Otaki. From this place he announced his intention of preventing the spread of European settlement further up the Hutt Valley as he claimed that it all belonged to him and he had not received any payment for it. The Ngatitama chief Taringa Kuri (Dog's ear) was therefore sent with some of his people to clear land in the valley, and at Porirua Rangihaeta began organising reinforcements to assist him.

Throughout July and August of 1842 Mr Hals-well. Commissioner of Native Reserves on the Company's settlement received many letters complaining of outrages committed by the natives on the settlers in the Hutt district. Several personal applications were made, and one in particular from a Mr Molesworth requested Halswell's interference to reinstate some tenants on one of the upper sections of the Hutt, whose houses had been destroyed by the natives, and the settlers driven off.

Taringa Kuri with some of his people had chosen to build a settlement on the property occupied by Mr Swainson who tried in vain to dissuade the chief from felling trees close to his house. At Swainson's urgent request Halswell journeyed to the Hutt where he had a long conference with Taringa Kuri, Te Kohira, Te Rehi, and other chief speakers of the Ngatirangatahi. He then offered to put Te Kuri on any native reserve he might prefer, and the chief is said to have agreed to this arrangement while the Ngatirangatahi promised to remain quiet until Mr Spain made his award. Halswell considered the Hutt disturbances to have been settled. But the arrival of more emissaries from Te Rauparaha and Rangihaeta with further instructions produced a renewal of hostile acts which necessitated more visits.

Te Wharepouri, Te Puni, Wi Tako, and many other Ngatiawa chiefs approached Halswell expressing their strong indignation at these outrages. They were anxious for permission to attack Taringa Kuri and his people in their old way, but needless to say Halswell declined their offer. In a report to Wakefield on the Hutt Valley disturbances he expressed a grave fear that unless some demonstration of physical force be made, either by a company of men or a small body of militia, then the consequences would be very serious.

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Portrait of Te Rauparaha, from a sketch by C. D. Abbott. (TURNBULL LIBRARY PHOTOGRAPH).

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Mr Nelson is a well-known New Zealand playwright, at present employed in the Housing Section of the Department of Maori Affairs, Wanganui.

Some years ago one saw plays in our theatres which were only British, with occasional plays from the Continent. The New Zealand play was almost unheard of. Today our theatre is undergoing a change—the New Zealand play is no longer a seven day wonder.

This is indeed pleasing, but so far our New Zealand drama is pakeha, and the Maori is much of a stranger to our stages. Bruce Mason's play “The Pohutukawa Tree” is a step in the right direction; it has brought Maori actors on to a theatre stage besides being successfully televised in England. There is the well-known one-act play “The Greenstone Mere” and, I believe, other Maori plays which have been seen occasionally. All this is to the good. It is fair, however, to ask: is this the beginning of a Maori drama? Will a Maori drama come into being as a matter of course?

I don't think anybody can predict what will happen in theatre with very great accuracy. Whether we in New Zealand will create a drama which belongs truly to our Maori people is still no more than an opinion. I believe theatre will welcome well written and well produced Maori plays. But Maori plays have to be written and Maori actors have to be found, trained and organised. There needs to be more than occasional Maori plays. We need Maori drama groups; we need these Maori drama groups to bring Maori plays into theatre—not one or two plays, but as many Maori plays as can be written and performed. We need Maori theatre.

In Wanganui an attempt is being made to establish a Maori drama group. Actors chosen from members of the Putiki Maori Club will be acting in a Maori play which is to appear in the British Drama League festival in Wanganui during next July. These actors will be under the wing of the R.S.A. Little Theatre Society which has done excellent work in encouraging New Zealand plays. The idea of working through an established society is to give the actors the full benefit of that society's advice and resources. This should give the actors some valuable help, particularly as they will be competing against pakeha actors who have had a long theatre experience.

I am confident that the Maori actors will give an excellent account of themselves. What our theatre needs most is a breath of fresh air—plays which have been taken out of drawing rooms and set against a New Zealand background. Maori plays and actors can do this. Not only will the setting of the play be fresh and unusual, but I am sure that the fine dramatic character of the actors themselves will bring to the stage a living quality we see all too rarely.

That is one reason for my wanting to see a Maori drama established. I believe very sincerely that the future of a New Zealand drama which can stand up and live and breathe on a stage will depend on how far we bring our Maori people into it. Theatre stages many fine plays, the kind of plays that makes one feel proud to be a part of theatre. But too often we see plays which are shallow and empty, plays which have nothing worthwhile to say. It seems at times that theatre becomes sickly and weary like a very old man who is too tired to bother any more while life itself, full of tears and laughter, is a rushing stream that bustles around the very theatre in which we sit bored and fed up with ourselves. And the tragedy of this is that theatre people are some of the kindliest people I know, and their producers, actors and technicians are hard working and conscientious. Why, then, should this be?

I think theatre sometimes forgets that it is, or ought to be, a part of the community. We see so many plays about people and places we don't really know that we get out of touch with life

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Students of St Peter's Maori College, Northcote, Auckland, in “Skin-Deep”, a Maori comic opera by Paraata Reti, His Majesty's Theatre, Auckland, 1959. (HILL-THOMAS, AUCKLAND, PHOTOGRAPH)

itself. We pretend to be other people so much that we forget what we ourselves are really like. The wonder is not that theatre becomes sickly and tired at times, but that this does not happen more often. A Maori drama which is seen on our stages as an ordinary part of theatre will help to bring the tears and laughter of real life onto our stages. That is why theatre is symbolised with two masks, one happy, one sad. That is what theatre is really about, the happiness and sadness of life, the whole of life from sorrow to joy, the whole of life as we ourselves know and understand it. The life we live in New Zealand and the communities in which we dwell are not pakeha alone. The heart and soul of New Zealand does not belong to the pakeha alone. Our life as a nation is both Maori and pakeha, and anything less than this is not true of New Zealand and never will be.

A theatre which speaks with a pakeha tongue and says only what the pakeha wants to say, which shows only what the pakeha can see through pakeha eyes, is not truly a New Zealand theatre. It might think it is, or it might pretend to be, but it is not. There will never be a New Zealand theatre which can stand shoulder to shoulder with the theatres of the outside world unless the struggles and the hopes and the failures and the triumphs of the Maori people, together with those of the pakeha, become a part of New Zealand life on our stages. Only when Maori and pakeha stand together can we see what New Zealand life means. Only then can we hope to understand it—and ourselves.

This small beginning in forming a Maori drama group in Wanganui is no more than a start. But it is a start on the right footing. To give audiences an experience of a traditional Maori play is to take those audiences into another experience of the human spirit. This will, I am certain, cause a demand for more plays of a like character. There will be an established group to fill that demand in Wanganui!

Will such a small seed grow into a mighty kauri? I do not know. But this I do know; theatre will survive television, it will survive its own follies and weaknesses, and it will grow into a force which will play a large part in the life of our nation. Theatre will do this because it believes in itself and because it is not afraid of difficulties. One of the miracles of modern civilisation is the survival of live theatre; another miracle is the leaping into life of the Maori people, a race which many thought to be dying out. There, then, is the link between the two; both refusing to die, and both proudly flourishing.

I believe in the future of the Maori race and in the future of live theatre. And I believe the two will come together for the betterment of our nation as a whole.

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The years rolled on and Puhiwahine's two sons married wives of the Parewahawaha sub-tribe of the Rangitikei district, and went to live at Ohinepuhiawe (near Bulls) and at Matahiwi, on the south side of the mouth of the Rangitikei river.

The Parewahawaha sub-tribe were originally of the west Taupo district and were partly of the Raukawa and Tuwharetoa tribes. When Te Rauparaha's former allies, the Ati-Awa, turned upon him to oust him and his Ngati Toa people from their portion of the conquered lands at Porirua and Waikanae, he appealed to Ngati Raukawa, his mother's people—amongst others—to come to his aid.

Te Whatanui, the Ngati Raukawa high chief and war leader, recruited an army and hastened south to join Te Rauparaha. Among those who came with Te Whatanui were the Ngati Parewahawaha.

After the crushing defeat of Te Ati Awa at Te Horo (in the Horowhenua district), and their precipitate retreat to Whanganui-a-Tara (Lower Hutt and Wellington), the Ngati Parewahawaha settled on the south bank of the Rangitikei river near its mouth. The main settlements were at Ohinepuhiawe and Matahiwi. The battle of Te Horo took place in March, 1834.

After the marriages of Puhiwahine's sons they settled among the Ngati Parewahawaha at Ohinepuhiawe. This was in the year 1869.

In the same year Puhiwahine was among the notable Maori personages who were received by the Duke of Edinburgh, and His Royal Highness presented her with a greenstone brooch. She named the brooch “Te Tiuka Ienepara” (the Duke of Edinburgh). It is a valued family heirloom and is now in the possession of her great-granddaughter, Maata, the wife of Hiri Mariu of Waihi, Lake Taupo. This brooch is mentioned in the next song, which will be recorded in this account presently.

Some months after the marriages Puhiwahine learnt that both her daughters-in-law were expectant mothers, and she rejoiced at the news. After a visit to each home to satisfy herself that the news was authentic, she made a forecast that John's child would be a girl and George's would be a son. In the event Puhiwahine proved correct, but George's son was still-born and shortly afterwards the mother died. Maori matrons believe that an expectant mother with a pale complexion is bearing a male child, and that a mother's freckled or blotchy face indicates a female child.

Happy in the thought that she was a grandmother to be, Puhiwahine decided she would compose a song. In the time-honoured manner of the race the song in her heart had to be expressed in a lullaby, but Puhiwahine could not wait for the natal hour. And so Puhiwahine's lullaby, as a premature oriori composition, is unique.

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Thomas Maraku Gotty, grandson of Puhiwahine.

– 18 –



E hine ranei, e tama ranei!
Puta noa ke korua te awa i ‘Tikei.
He whenua tautohe na o mata waka
Mooku ia ra e nunumi ake nei;
E kore pea korua e rite hei riiwhi
Kua kore tenei, kua iti noa iho;
Kua ngaro te tangata, e.


Hohoro te korikori, tu ake ka haere!
Hapaitia atu te Tiuka lenepara.
Kaati ano ra, he mana pounamu tonu—
Hei taonga hokinga atu ki te kainga ra.
Kei Patea ano ra a Pine e noho ana,
Hei arataki atu ki te wi i Rangipo.
Titiro korua ki nga kurae ra!
Ki Motutere ma ra, ki Motuoapa;
Ki waho o Whareroa, ki roto o Pukawa;
He tanumitanga waka no te iwi kua ngaro, i, i …


Ko maunga kau te tu ki te uru!
Arohirohi ana te tihi ki Tongariro
Titaha te haere i te take o Pihanga,
E tua takahi ana te papa ki te puia.
Ka kitea mai korua e o korua kuia—
“Na wai enei tamariki e haere nei?”
Kiia atu ano, “Kei te raunatia
“Ki Orakau ra, ki Rangiaohia ra.
“He koata-kaihe na te Pakeha
“Nana nei i huna iho ka ngaro te motu nei.
“Na Tutetawha, na Te Rangiita,
“Na Paraparahika, na Tuwharetoa, na Hinemihi
“Maua nei, e.
“Katahi ka hoki mai te ewe ki te rauru,
“Ki te rua i moe ai, ki te u kai-po.”
Ka matauria korua, na, i …


Hoki atu ki roto ra te koko ki Waihi,
Ka pa mai te karanga
A Te Piata, a Te Rohu.
Kia matau atu he whaea ena—
Taupiripiri ana, ka rite koutou.
Ma maua ano ko taku hoa muringa,
Uia atu ano, “Kei whea a Ngamotu?
“Kei whea a Te Makiwhara?”
Oku nei tungaane kei raro noa atu.
Kei a Rewi ma, kei tona nuinga, e,
Me tuhituhi atu ki te reta pukapuka
Kia hoki mai ana ka noho koutou
Te Riu ki Taupo, na, i …


If maid you be, or if son you be!
You two will emerge unawares by the river at ‘Tikei.
The quarrelling ground of your full-manned canoes.
Alas, I doubt you two will be deserving heirs
Of mine, after I am gone.
I am really nothing, a wasted thing,
And men (who were men) have passed away …


Hasten to move, arise and be on the way!
Take up the Tiuka lenepara;
A worthy trophy, ‘tis consecrated greenstone, 10
To take back to our home o'er yonder.
At Patea still abides Pine,
To guide us to the tussock (uplands) of Rangipo.
Look now you two at those headlands yonder!
At Motutere and others there, at Motuoapa;
Offshore from Whareroa, and within Pukawa,
The busy canoe inlet of departed tribes, ah me …


A lonely mountain stands there in the west!
See now the shimmering summit of Tongariro.
Onward we go by the foothills of Pihanga, 20
Trudging on across flat lands to the thermal pools.
You two will soon be seen by your grandsires and grandams.
“Whose children are these coming here?” (they will ask.)
Say to them, “We are travelling around
“To Orakau and on to Rangiaohia over yonder.
“We are quarter-castes begotten of a Pakeha,
“He who has overrun and lost (us) this land.
(Tell them) “By Tutetawha, by Te Rangiita.
“By Parapara-a-hika, by Tuwharetoa, and by Hinemihi
“Are we two, indeed. 30
“Only now have we returned to our native land,
“To the cradle to sleep and suckle a mother's breast.”
You two will now be recognised, and all will be well.


Come back here and let us go into the cove at Waihi,
Where the welcome call will come
From Te Piata and Te Rohu.
Know you now they are your aunts—
Closely linked as kinsmen are you all.
Now of my companion of these latter days
I shall ask, “Where is Ngamotu? 40
“And where is Te Makiwhara?”
My cousins, alas, are both far in the north;
They are with Rewi and his many tribes.
Let a letter be written on writing paper
That, on your return. you all will abide
Upon the shores of Taupo, ah me …

2 ‘Tikei’—Abbreviation for Rangitikei.

9 Tiuka Ienepara—Duke of Edinburgh (younger son of Queen Victoria) maorified. The name given by Puhiwahine to the brooch presented to her by His Royal Highness.

12 Patea—Formerly the Maori name for the Taihape district. Usually referred to as inland Patea.

Pine—A chief of the Ngati Whiti-Tama of the Taihape district.

13 Rangipo—The tussock plains around Waiouru.

15 Motutere—The headland on the eastern shores of Lake Taupo opposite Motutaiko Island.

Motuopa—The bold headland (almost an island now when lake level is high) between the Tongariro and the Tauranga-Taupo rivers.

– 19 –


The writer has chosen the title of the very readable book by William Baucke as a chapter heading, because our story will now deal with events in the Northern King Country district. Baucke's stories dealt with the people of that region—formerly known among the Maori tribes as Te Rohe-potae o Ngati-Maniapoto (The Rim of the Hat of the Maniapoto Tribe).

About the year 1885 the chiefs of Maniapoto applied to the Maori Land Court to investigate the titles to the tribal lands, and in 1886 the Court commenced its sittings at Otorohanga. This event co-incided with sittings of the Court in Taupo under another Judge and Maori Assessor (David Scannell and Nikorima Poutotara). These sittings were the first to be held in these districts, and members of the tribes of Maniapoto and the Tuwharetoa went from far and near to attend the sittings.

Puhiwahine attended the sittings at Taupo, and later went through to Otorohanga. At the latter place she learnt that the reason why the Maniapoto chiefs had applied for an investigation of their titles was because they had learnt that occupation was a strong ground for claims to land before the Maori Land Court. And at that time some sections of the Waikato people, whose lands had been confiscated by the Government after the Waikato War of the 1860s, had been in occupation of some of the best lands of the Maniapoto at Te Kuiti for twenty odd years.

Among the Waikato refugees was King Tawhiao, but as he was also of Maniapoto blood he was made most welcome and his rights to land as a Maniapoto were fully safeguarded by the chiefs.

When the main claim to the whole of the Maniapoto tribal domain came before the Maori Land Court there were claims by various outside tribes, including a section of the Waikato people. (Otorohanga Maori Land Court Minute Book, 1886).

Hauauru was the principal witness for the Maniapoto, and his evidence in chief and cross examination lasted for ten days. It was when he was giving evidence in connection with the claim of his own Matakore sub-tribe to part—Rangitoto Block—of the tribal domain that Hauauru, during an adjournment of the Court, challenged the counter-claimants to quote some song in support of their claims. No one took up his challenge.

Puhiwahine was present, and Hauauru acknowledged her presence by a respectful wave and cupping of the hand, he then turned to the chiefs and began to sing the Song of a Coquette. (See Chapter 5). Puhiwahine took it as a challenge and soon she had risen to her feet and joined him in the singing; but remaining in her place some paces away. At the fourth verse, Puhiwahine accompanied her singing with a pukana in the direction of Hauauru, and for the line, “at Rangitoto art thou, O Eruera!” she raised her voice to a higher note and with quivering hands she struck a graceful pose reminiscent of her younger days. The song was ended with the words in the last two lines of the verse: “This is but a day-dream for him who was the first of them all!”

When the time came for Puhiwahine to leave Otorohanga for her home in the south, there was a special gathering arranged as a poroporoaki (take leave of) and to wish her well. Puhiwahine had composed a special song for the occasion. It was an expression of sorrow and regret for the manner in which the tribes were dealing with their ancestral lands.

16 Whareroa—Once a village site at the mouth of the Whareroa stream which flows into the western side of the lake between the Kuratau River and Poukura stream.

19 Tongariro—The sacred mountain of the Tuwharetoa tribe.

20 Pihanga—The bush-clad peak with the extinct volcanic crater between Lake Roto-a-Ira and Tokaanu township.

25 Orakau—The site of the Battle of Orakau (1864) between Kihikihi and Parawera, the road junction to Arapuni.

Rangiaohia—The former village of the Ngati Apakura. The scene of fighting just before the Battle of Orakau.

26 Quarter-castes—Maorified in original text as koata-kaihe. Her two half-caste sons married wives of full Maori blood.

28 Tutetawha—The Tuwharetoa ancestor who made the peace pact with Te Kanawa of the Maniapoto tribe near the birthplace of Puhiwahine.

Te Rangiita—The son of Tutetawha.

29 Parapara-a-hika—Younger brother of Te Rangiita.

Tuwharetoa—Eponymous ancestor of the Tuwharetoa tribe, from whom ancestors named above are descended.

Hinemihi—An ancestress from the Matatua people who married Tutetawha (See Note to line 28), and after whom the Hinemihi sub-tribe (Puhiwahine's people) are called.

34 Waihi—The village of that name across the small bay from Tokaanu.

36 Te Piata—Of the Turumakina sub-tribe of Waihi.

Te Rohu—A cousin of Te Piata.

40 Ngamotu—Father of Pateriki Ngamotu a cousin of Puhiwahine, and related to Rewi Maniapoto.

Makiwhara — Another cousin. Descendants now living at Tokaanu.

43 Rewi—Rewi Maniapoto of Orakau fame.

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A Song about Land Affairs


Kaore te aroha morikarika noa
Ki aku tau rawa ka tatara ki mamao.
He moenga tara te kiri ka tauwehe;
Te rongo te houhia ki a Ngati Apa
He kino ano ra ka ata kitea iho,
Ka mahue Kauwhata, ka mahue kei muri
Kaore i ara i ako ai ki te mahi Kawana.


E rua aku mahi e noho nei au;
Ko te hanga i te whare,
Ko te hanga i te tikanga.
Pukohu tairi ki Te Kuiti ra,
Ki te kainga ra i noho ai te ariki.
Ki taaku whakaaro ka taemai Waikato
Hei noho i te whenua
E panuitia nei! E panuitia nei!


Pa rawa te mamae ki te tau o taku ate,
E tama ma e! Tu ake ki runga ra,
Tirohia te he o to mahi;
Maaku e ki atu, “Nohoia, nohoia!”
No mua mai ano, no nga kaumatua,
Na ngeaku waewae i tipi ra i te whenua.
Na konei hoki au i kino ai ki te reti
Ue! Whaiwhai ki te reti!


Never-ending is the sorrow within me,
For my cherished ones now parted afar off.
‘Tis a thorny couch which torments my body;
Peace is still denied unto Ngati Apa,
And ‘tis a grievous thing to contemplate,
That Kauwhata is left, left in the rear.
Will (you) never learn the ways of the Governor.


I have two objects in staying here;
To erect a dwelling-house,
To set up a way of life. 10
(See) the mist is settling on Te Kuiti yonder,
Upon the place where dwelt the exalted one.
Me thought Waikato had come
To settle on the land,
Now proclaimed! Now proclaimed!


The pain of it has touched my heart within;
O my sons all! Go and stand forth yonder,
Look upon the grievous wrong you do;
Of which I do say, “Settle, settle (the land)!”
‘Tis a thought of old, a heritage from the elders, 20
Plucked by me (along the trail) as I tripped o'er the land.
That is why I deplore (the lure of) rent,
Goodness me! (This) chasing after rent!

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

The completion of the foregoing song, we thought, would have accounted for all the Puhiwahine songs; but Te Keehi has now supplied us with what might be called the fragment of a song. According to Te Keehi it was composed by Puhiwahine as a introductory stanza to the action song at the end of Chapter 3. Te Keehi's account is that Puhiwahine, late in her life, had suffered from some mental illness, and that it was thought she was the victim of makutu (witchcraft). Because of this illness she composed these lines:

(Continued on page 64)

4 Ngati-Apa—The tribe whose lands, to the south of the Rangitikei River, were overrun by the Ngati Raukawa and allied tribes in the early 1830s. Some years later a number of the chiefs of these tribes sold the lands—except for a few thousand acres—between the Rangitikei and Manawatu for less than £3000!

6 Kauwhata—One of the tribes allied with the Ngati Raukawa. This tribe retained some lands in the Feilding district.

11 Te Kuiti—The preceding narrative will explain the reference to Te Kuiti. It concerns the occupation of the lands there by the refugee tribes from Waikato after the Waikato War.

12 Exalted one—In reference to King Tawhiao, the second Maori king. He is mentioned in the preceding narrative.

13 Waikato—In reference to the Waikato refugees. See note to line 11.

15 Panuitia—Made known, proclaimed. Derived from, Pa 2. Reach one's ears, be heard. (Williams Dictionary page 244) and nui 3. many (Ibid. page 224) Hence: Made known the Investigation of Title etc. to be lodged with the Registrar of the Court. The application, if in order, is then advertised (panuitia, is the Maori term used) in the Kahiti (Gazette). It was the appearance of the application of the Maniapoto chiefs for Investigation of the titles to their tribal lands which the poetess refers to in this line as panuitia (proclaimed). to the many, or proclaimed as the translation of the writer has it.

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The Improvement of Maori Land Titles


This is the fourth of our series of articles to explain the intricacies of Maori land titles. The Young Leaders Conference considered that more information should be available to the average man. Anyone who seeks further knowledge should send us his questions.

Ko te tuawha tenei o nga korero hei whakamarama i nga uauatanga o nga Taitara Whenua Maori. Ko te tono hoki a te hui a nga Kaihautu o Te Rangatahi kia pera noa atu te puta o nga whakamarama penei. Me ahu mai nga patai ki Te Ao Hou.

I te putanga tuatahi o enei korero ka whakamaramatia te ture i mua atu i 1953 a ko te putanga tuarua tuatoru ko nga korero mo nga mahi whakamoni paanga maramara i waenganui i nga whanaunga tata a mo te ture tekau pauna. Kua paenga ake nga korero mo nga uauatanga o te takimano o te takitini kei nga taitara whenua me matakitaki ake inaianei ki ko ake.

I roto o nga tau ko ta Te Kooti he wawahi a nga whenua Maori taitara motuhake i runga i te whakahau a te hunga no ratou aua whenua a i aua wa ko ta Te Kooti whakaaro ko ia ra te mea tika. I ata whakaarotia hoki i aua wa ko te puta o te oranga mo nga kainoho o aua whenua te tino mea hei whainga. No muri mai nei ka kitea ko nga wawahanga o aua ra kua noho hei mea whakahaehae kua pakupaku rawa a kaore e ora te tangata e whakanoho ki runga. Ko te nuinga o aua wawahanga e kore e taea te whakanohonoho he pakupaku rawa mo nga mahi ahuwhenua a he nunui rawa hei tuunga whare noa.

Ko te nuinga o aua wawahanga ina noa ake te whaiti engari he koroa a i huaina he “fiddle strings” he tuaina whira. Ko enei wawahanga toro mai i te moana ki whea nei ki runga maunga ki nga wahi ngaherehere. Ko te whakaaro. o Te Kooti Whenua Maori o aua wa he mahi i runga.


In our first instalment we dealt with the law as it stood before 1953 and the second and third articles discussed conversion family arrangements and the £10 rule. Having dealt fairly fully with the problem of multiple ownership and the measures which have been devised to overcome it, we now touch on the second problem.

Over the years Maori freehold land has been sub-divided by the Courts to suit the wishes of the owners, or what no doubt appeared to the Court to be, at the time, the best interests of the owners. In making such subdivisions the Courts have been guided from time to time by the economic and social conditions prevailing. Although such conditions are now radically different from those of the times when the partitions were made, the old subdivisions still exist and it is not too much to say that not only Maori land-owners but the country in general is suffering greatly as a result of subdivisions which are unsatisfactory and uneconomic in the light of modern conditions. Most of these are difficult to use fully and productively and some are impossible to use properly because they are either far too small to make [ unclear: ] desirable and economic farming area or far too large for a convenient and satisfactory house site.

Many of the old subdivisions are narrow pieces of land of greatly disproportionate depth and are sometimes called “fiddle strings”. Some of these extend from the sea coast to the high bush hinterland. No doubt the Courts in subdividing land in this fashion did so in the desire to be as fair as possible to all the owners by giving each of them,

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o te mahi tika he whakarato i te whenua ki nga tangata takitahi ki nga whanau ranei i runga i tenei whakaaro na, kia whiwhi te katoa i tetahi wahi o te takutai mo nga mahi kaimoana, i tetahi wahi raorao hei nohonga, a me etahi wahi hoki o nga maunga o nga ngaherehere. No muri mai nei ka kitea kua he ia aua momo wawahanga, haunga te nui o te whenua, engari ko te mahi taiapa ko nga mahi ruuri kore i arikarika te utu a ko etahi ano kaore he urunga atu i whakaritea e te ture. Kua tini nga wawahanga penei a kua takimano te hunga kei roto i aua wawahanga ina noa ake nei nga eka kaore te taea e taua hunga takimano te ahuwhenua a kua kore take hoki mo te riihi. Kua kiia ake ra he whakahaehae aua wawahanga kua taumahatia i nga moni reiti o roto i nga tau a kua tipungia e te huhua o te otaota. Kei whea mai nei te uauatanga kua takimano te hunga kei roto i nga taitara ko nga hea o te tangata kotahi ina noa ake.

Kei nga ture o mua atu o Te Ture o te tau 1953 e takoto ana nga mana whakakore i nga wawahanga kua kore take penei i enei kua whakamaramatia ake nei kia taea ai aua whenua te whakamahi. Ka oti nga wawahanga te whakakore kei reira nga ture hei whaka-whiti-whiti hei whakatikatika hei wawahi hou mehemea i pirangitia kia peratia. He takitahi te hunga i whai kia whaka mahia aua ture a ko nga mea ano i tahuri ki te whakatikatika kua noho tika o ratou na whenua. Kei te mohiotia iho nga uauatanga ko te tokomaha o te hunga no ratou nga whenua a ko te marara hoki o te noho a taua hunga.

Ka puta ko te Ture o te tau 1953 ka tuhia ano aua ture whakatikatika wawahanga whenua taitara motuhake ki roto apiti atu hoki ki era ka whakawhiwhia Te Kooti ki te mana whakawhaiti i nga taitara o nga whenua e patata ana ki aua wehewehenga mehemea ma reira ka pai ai te whakamahi te whakanohonoho o aua whenua. Inatata nei ka whakamahia tenei wahanga o te ture e Te Kooti i tu ki Wanganui hei Whakatikatika i taua ono poraka whenua he uaua hoki te whakahuihui i te hunga e whai paanga ana ki nga poraka takitahi. I takoto te kupu a te kaitono ki te aroaro o Te Kooti e kore e pa he raruraru ana whakakotahitia aua poraka e ono. Ma te patata anake o nga poraka e taea ai te whakamahi tenei wahanga o te ture. E taea ana hoki te wawahi te whakakotahitanga o etahi poraka ahakoa kaore aua poraka i te patata a ehara ranei i te mea no te hunga kotahi.

Kua maro te whakaaro o Te Kooti e kore ia e tapoko ki te he ara mehemea ka kitea iho ma te wehewehe paanga ka kore take te whenua mo te mahi ahuwhenua mo te whakanohonoho e kore e whakaaetia te wehewehe i taua whenua ara ka whai Te Kooti i te ture i mea ai kei a ia ano te tikanga. I peneitia e Te Kooti tetahi take inatata nei i takoto ki tona aroaro i Taranaki. Ka mate te wahine ra ka mahue iho tana wira e


or each group, a piece of the beach with access to fishing, a piece of the flat, some of the road frontage (if any), a portion of the hill and some of the high timber country beyond. In this day and age such partitions are quite unsuitable in themselves for farming, even though they are large enough. Among other things they cannot conveniently be divided into paddocks and the cost of survey and fencing are very high and sometimes prohibitive. Some even have no legal access. On the other hand there are innumerable small areas of a few acres, owned in many cases by numerous people, which in themselves are unsuitable for use by the owners or for leasing. Often subdivisions of this kind are a burden rather than an asset, as rates have to be paid and the land must be kept free of noxious weeds. The difficulties arising from this source are often greater than those from multiple ownership, but in almost all cases the two evils exist together, an unsatisfactory subdivision being owned by many people in very small shares.

For many years prior to the passing of the 1953 Act it was possible for unsatisfactory subdivisions to be cancelled so that the new title covered a larger and more workable area. It was also possible, following cancellation, for an arranged or combined partition to be made affecting several separate blocks whether or not those blocks adjoined each other. Not enough owners have taken advantage of this, but in some districts, encouraged by the Court, very good progress has been made. No doubt one of the problems preventing owners taking the initiative was the difficulty of getting anything approaching agreement among their numerous co-owners, many of whom were no longer resident near the land.

The 1953 Act continued this provision and also contains power for the Court to amalgamate the titles of adjoining lands where it considers that by so doing the land can be more economically worked or more easily dealt with. Such an order was recently made in the Wanganui Court in respect of six adjoining blocks and it was done so that a lease of the land could be facilitated because it had been found impossible to obtain a quorum for a meeting of owners of each of the six blocks separately. The Court was assured by the applicant that there would be no such difficulty if the six blocks became one. It should be noted that this procedure of amalgamating titles can only be followed where the blocks adjoin each other, but partitions of combined areas can still also be made whether or not any of the blocks concerned adjoin or are in common ownership, or whether or not the blocks are subdivisions of the same original block.

The Court has resolutely set itself against continuing or repeating the errors of the past with regard to unsuitable partitions and thus follows the letter and spirit of the new Act which gives it a discretion to refuse to partition where it considers that it would be contrary to the public interest or to the interest of the owners or other persons

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whakaingoa ana kia tukua tona whenua ki tetahi tokorua e mea eke ki tetahi e mea eka ki tetahi kaore i whakaaetia te wehewehe i runga i ta te tupapaku i whakarite ai.

Ko te wehewehe whenua he mea inaianei e ata tirotirohia ana e Te Kooti i runga i nga wariu a i [ unclear: ] runga hoki i nga ture a te Kauti Kaunihera me era tu ropu.


concerned. As an illustration of this the Court, after giving the matter much thought, recently refused to give full effect to a Taranaki partition which was required before a devise of land in a will could become effective. The deceased had by her will left a block of land to two sets of people in defined shares. She had therefore in effect attempted to partition the land herself at the succession point. With the consent of the beneficiary the area devised which was clearly too big for its intended purpose was reduced by the Court to one-sixth of its original size.

It is relevant to note also that apart from considering the purpose of a partition with special reference to the proposed use of the subdivision, the Court before partitioning requires valuations of the proposed sections and the consents of as many as possible of the major owners. In considering whether the proposed subdivision is in the public interest the requirements of the appropriate local body, with special regard to any planning scheme operating in the district, have also to be considered.


Some five thousand Maori people from most parts of New Zealand attended the annual Hui Toopu of the Church of England, Waiapu Diocese, in Rotorua last month. It was the biggest Hui Toopu yet held. Visitors were lavish in their praise of the extremely high standard of organisation achieved by those running the hui. The concentrated programme, involving large numbers, was presented in a remarkably smooth manner. The weekend programme was a varied one, featuring church services, cultural competitions, concert and talent quests, and a youth dance. The visiting delegations were made up mostly of youth groups and young people.

The cultural competition aggregate was won by the well-known Hikurangi group under Mr George Reedy. This combination won several events, including the action song, choral and haka competitions.

One of the features of the hui was the initial performance of the anthem “Maranga” by Lieut. Colonel Awatere. It was sung by a group of secondary school pupils and adults from Auckland under the conductorship of the composer. The item received an enthusiastic reception. This anthem was inspired by the death of 2nd.-Lieut. Moana Ngarimu, V.C., in the Western Desert.

Another feature of the hui was the large contingent from the Wellington Diocese. This group 200 strong, gave a mass performance of a variety of cultural items. The main service of the hui was conducted on Sunday, May 15, by the Rt. Rev. W. N. Panapa, Bishop of Aotearoa.

Addressing the Hutt Rotary Club recently, the Assistant Controller of Maori Welfare, Mr N. P. K. Puriri, described some of the difficulties of the Maori people.

Noting the growing population in New Zealand, Mr Puriri said that 60 to 65 per cent were under 21. Many were moving into towns and cities where “quite a number get into trouble.”

“The basic problem,” he said, “is that many come from poor homes that have not the tradition of your way of life, of your knowledge of economics and your background of occupations and vocations.”

The present status of the Maori was mainly a question of likes and dislikes, but he expressed pleasure in saying that in Wellington and the Hutt, where there were many opportunities, many young Maoris were trade apprentices, and in the Hutt Valley there were good housing facilities for Maoris.

The Welfare Division encouraged Maoris to join various organisations where possible, but there was a tendency for people from rural areas to move and orbit round the people they knew.

“Where Maoris are breaking into new fields, they are pioneering the way for other Maoris,” said Mr Puriri. “People are ready to be critical of the Maori population, but the behaviour of young people is only a reflection of the society they are living in. Youngsters, given the proper assistance, will find their niche in the community.”

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The death of Albert Namatjira, aged 58, in August 1959 was not only a great loss to Australian Art circles but struck a severe body blow to the Aboriginal Art Movement in Central Australia.

This movement was founded by well known Australian artist Rex Battarbee in the early thirties, when together with fellow artist John A. Gardner they caravanned to Central Australia, stopping to paint when the landscape inspired them to do so.

In the MacDonnell Ranges country round Alice Springs they found the landscape particularly inspiring for water colour painting and discovered the unusual violet-blue quality found only in that area and so well depicted in Namatjira's “The Peaks”.

An exhibition of the two artists' work was shown at Hermannsbury Lutheran Mission Station, Alice Springs in 1934 for two days. Among the interested and curious native spectators was young Arunta Chief Albert Namatjira. It is doubtful whether the natives, at that time, ever thought of drawing and colouring other than as a means of teaching used by the old men of the tribe to illustrate ancestral tradition, or religious life. The exhibition by these two artists coincided with a disintegration period of the Arunta social system which was then in its death throes, brought about on one side by well meant missionaries intent on christianizing, anthropologists eager to fill books with conflicting, not always accurate, versions of the dying customs of a primitive people, and that holy of holies, British Law pinning notes on British justice on every kangaroo and emu in the outback for the benefit of ignorant natives. The whole setup when boiled down is known as the gentle art of civilizing. Tugging for all he was worth, but making no impression, we have on the other end of the rope, the tall, wiry, stubborn old man of the tribe, holding hard to the customs, sacred traditions and ceremonial rites that had served him and his forbears well for centuries and which he hoped to pass on to his sons.

Picture icon

Albert Namatjira, 12 July 1959.

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Then we have his sons born into an age of confusion but recognizing early the symptoms of an old order already doomed, turning their backs on their birthright and facing a future that held nothing but a question mark. With the collapse, not only of the old social system, but the old religion and the old arts, a depressing vacuum was left in a community that had once spent all its leisure hours in chanting, dancing and working on decorations.

Therefore it was not surprising to see them turn out in their hundreds to view the work of these two white artists. Paintings of European scenes and white people would have bored them; but here were oil portraits of their own folk and water colours of their own homeland. The new art of the foreign intruder was beginning to speak to them in accents modulated by their own familiar environment. Here was an art that was worth emulating. By learning its techniques a full blooded aboriginal could win respect and social standing in the new but inescapable world of European ways and ideas; and he could do so without having to abjure all the emotional ties that bound him to his own homeland.

It only needed a clever, gifted native to prove that the dark man could acquire the technical skills necessary to work in the new medium, and many followers were assured.

No one at that time thought it possible for any aboriginal to acquire the necessary technical facility; but Albert Namatjira proved them wrong. Namatjira's first excursion into the world of colour was as Battarbee's camel boy during a painting expedition into the outbacks after the 1934 exhibition. While Battarbee painted the landscape Albert engaged in decorating his boomerangs with marks from a hot branding iron; these were then sold to tourists. Turning from the branding iron, Albert developed an interest in water colours and after four weeks' tuition by Battarbee in 1936 turned out a very creditable painting, “Erra and Ghost Gum, Glen Helen, MacDonnell Ranges”, original in possession of Battarbee, Alice Springs.

Immediately, his potentiality was recognised and he forged ahead, quickly mastering the difficult art of water colour. However, since the technique of painting must be learned from some master in that medium, it was inevitable that he should model himself rather closely on Battarbee. To blame him for that is mere stupidity. We all learn from our predecessors and teachers. No modern painter is entirely uninfluenced by the past. Even should he consciously try to avoid the old rules and conventions, he still affords thereby clear evidence of his knowledge of those rules and conventions, and of his fear of being regarded as an unoriginal imitator unless he modifies or rejects them.

Albert Namatjira in his paintings reveals a oneness of artist and subject, which is found only in a person as close to nature as he was. Many of Namatjira's critics have said he was merely an imitator of Battarbee, but this to me is untrue.

Their similarity stems from their common objective—that of painting truthful, sympathetic and loving pictures of the finest landscape in Central Australia. Namatjira had no pathological fear of painting trees that were trees and mountains that were mountains, but he did draw the line at including a human figure in any of his work because of religious taboo.

Of all the work of the 18 aboriginal Arunta artists, in only one painting by Enos Namatjira titled “Spearing an Emu” is the human figure depicted, and for this reason the work is of great interest and value.

The other aboriginal artists, who learned to paint from Albert, including his three eldest sons Ewald, Enos and Keith, have not acquired quite the same technical skill and there tends to be a similarity in all their paintings. But in their best works they have achieved numerous stylistic idiosyncrasies of their own.

From my own private research and what I have seen of the aboriginal artists' work, there are among the younger men several who have developed a more original or native style than Albert, such as the Pareroultja brothers and Richard Moketarinja.

Unfortunately these aboriginal artists are painting far too many pictures each year. There is a ready market for their paintings, and in their desire to meet the public demand some of these artists lower their standards by attempting to exploit the familiar scenes to the limit. Over production is certainly not inducive to high artistic merit. No doubt many pictures have been sold which should have been destroyed. Even some of the pictures reproduced in “Modern Australian Aboriginal Art”, were in my opinion selected rather unfortunately; for nothing can be so ruinous to the reputation of an artist as his own worst creations.

However, even in all-white exhibitions pictures are some times hung which do not reflect very highly on the skill or sensitivity of their creators.

Namatjira was an artist who was wholly and sincerely captivated by the lights, the colours, the lines, and the shapes ever present in his home area. In his paintings he set forth the fine, grand, and beautiful scenes of this landscape with intense pride and feeling and with all the technical skill at his disposal. Because he had the courage and conviction to portray his scenes so vividly and in the violent colours decreed by nature he was often the butt of severe criticism by city-bred critics.

They wrote and spoke about the harsh reds and heavy purples of an eroded, sunburnt country, the monstrous shapes of rocks and mountains, of paintings done in the interior, and one realizes instantly that they have been emotionally repelled not only by the paintings but by the landscape as well. Yet these same critics would wax lyrical over the work of Gaugin whose trade mark was to emphasize the best points of his work with brilliant, harsh colours and outrageous distortions.

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Picture icon

“THE PEAKS”; a celebrated painting by Albert Namatjira.

Gaugin would certainly have been in his element in the painting of Arunta's country.

The average Arunta chooses landscapes, where they can give vent to their sense of colour, of rhythm, of line and of decoration. Their work tends to be uneven, but much of it is interesting. Most of them alter, change and distort the natural outlines and shapes which they see before them, and then either heighten or tone down the colours in sympathy. The imaginative quality thus acquired is not always liked by the public and less by the critics unless they have been to Central Australia and can fully evaluate the alterations introduced during painting.

Of these younger painters Edwin Pareroultja is generally content with broad effects and strong colours, but he reveals also a strong decorative sense, when he divides his pictures into planes of contrasting colour.

On the other hand his brother Otto, whose work is somewhat reminiscent of Van Gogh, loved continuous coiling, wavy forms, and the complicated networks of sharply angular and jagged diagonal lines, and highly elaborated patterns; but Otto learnt his decorative devices from nature, not from Van Gogh. The Central Australian landscape is full of intricately traced natural patterns. The broken cliff faces are criss-crossed with lines, wrinkles, and cracks. The trees, because of their sparse foliage, reveal all their limbs and branches and do not cast heavy opaque shadows as do the European deciduous trees in summer. Throughout the day, the tracery of their shape shifts on the ground as the sun rises in the sky, then descends. From the first, Otto Pareroultja has been interested in these patterns, in the tracery of these delicate shadows, also in the flow of lines and in rhythm. His colours are always heightened; and the natural network of lines and shadows is elaborated by conscious design till it becomes an involved pattern that is entirely original.

His striped “tiger like” ghost gums are of special interest. It was Battarbee who first thought of using curved lines running across the length of trunks and limbs to indicate the rounded smoothness of the white ghost gums. Otto Pareroultja has multiplied these half rings and placed them all over the trunks and limbs of his trees. His ghost gums now show the common alternate black and white rings that were once put by the totemites on the trunks of many sacred totem poles. This practice is in close harmony with ancient Arunta mythological tales, according to which many of these old gums had arisen from poles abandoned on their travels by the original totemic ancestors. Ewald Namatjira at one stage worked concentric circles into his tree trunks and for awhile he introduced a tracery of sharp and jagged lines meeting at sharp angles into his imaginative representations of rocks. Walter Ebatarinja has often spread clusters of dots and groups of short parallel lines as dashes resembling cicatrices into his landscapes. The blotchy appearance of some of the rock-strewn slopes and much of the foliage is also intentional;

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flecks and spots in white down were often used in sacred body decorations to break up large expanses of smooth red down. All these devices are illustrated in various paintings I have seen of the above artists. They are old aboriginal decorative motifs, which have been introduced—often with surprising effectiveness—into the new medium learnt from the white man. At times these native aritsts have been criticised for not keeping to their own art. This is very unjust as it is doubtful if the Australian aboriginal really had true art expression. Most of the art forms which this Arunta tribe possessed really belonged to their religious life and were not practised by the younger men; only the old men of the tribe made these designs, which conformed to ancestral tradition. These were largely symbolical, and were confined mainly to concentric circles and wavy lines.

The young Arunta native of today is not only uninterested in the myths, songs, ritual and art of his forefathers, he generally despises these things as trash belonging to a defunct age.

It is useless to expect him to work in the old art medium, except to turn out shabby, fifth rate copies for visiting white tourists. This does not mean that the old type of art could not in some form give added vigour to the designs of white Australian artists. It is even possible that in two or three generations' time—perhaps sooner—young aboriginal artists may begin to use again spirals, lines and circles in a new, geometrical form of abstract art.

Recently Australian art critics have given the Hermannsburg Art Movement the gun properly. The pictures have been variously condemned for being ‘pretty’, ‘photographic’ and ‘saleable’. Complaints have also been that their remarkable sales value depended merely on their nature as anthropological curiosities.

Is it an artistic crime to paint “beauty” or even “prettiness” or is an artist nowadays permitted to paint only scenes suggesting stench, ugliness, barrenness and decay when delineating the outback and never the unearthly beauty that also transfigures certain scenes in the interior? The viewing public go to an exhibition prepared for scenes of arid desert land and sandy dunes and come away pleasurably enlightened or revolted to know there is another side to the interior scene.

“Photographic” is, of course, a much more frightening epithet to a painter. Fear of being labelled “photographic” however, is apt to inspire such panic in art circles that many artists would probably distort even the finest lines drawn by nature and soil, the loveliest colours of her eternal canvases, rather than risk incurring any possible censure on this score. This criticism is totally unjustified.

The next sneer relates to the so called “curio value” of these pictures. Undoubtedly some people do buy these paintings for this reason; but the same criticism could be raised against many other buyers of art, ancient and modern, everywhere in the world. For instance there are many people who buy books for their private libraries purely for show, without any intention of ever reading them.

Such practises are to be deplored and should reflect only on the buyers. Why victimize the artists and writers in this way?

Critics of course are necessary, even indispensable for supplying to us the necessary contexts of situation relating to the artistic endeavours of people of other ages and other countries, but surely there should be no need for any intermediaries, critics included, to stand between the writers, artists, musicians and the readers and audiences of their own age. They should not be necessary to induce the regimented enjoyment of creations that have originated in our own times and in our own society. This glorified band of propagandists who are 10 to every one artist, whether it be music, writing or art, tell us in newspaper columns, books, magazines, even the church papers, what to look for and what to appreciate in the musical, literary and artistic fields, I believe this to be a severe indictment of much of the work done today in our artistic media.

There was a time when art in all its forms gave joy to the community, and established between the individual members of the audience that great bond of sympathy which comes from a shared appreciation of things that are capable of moving listeners and beholders to laughter, to joy, and to tears. It is probable that the real force of art can best be felt emotionally, not explained in cold and rational abstract terms.

It is one of the diseases of our age that it is becoming increasingly difficult for men and women to find relaxation and uncensored enjoyment not only in art, serious music, literature etc., but lately in sport. First night reviewers have a dreadful habit of rebuking in print uncritical people who have dared to enjoy mediocre performances by actors, orchestras and ballet companies.

People who enjoy modern poetry, listen to jazz music or have contemporary paintings adorning their walls, sometimes feel uneasy in their own minds unless they can explain to themselves and their friends that their enthusiasms are justified by true aesthetic considerations. It's too bad that we have become so successfully civilized that we have lost the gift to enjoy. As for sport, well, one only has to look at the mess our present rugby football situation presents to understand what I mean. No thought of enjoyment there, only a two-sided national resentment. I seem to have wandered off the track somewhat but I think much of what I say has some bearing on the art of Rex Battarbee and the Hermannsburg School of Native Artists. Not all their pictures are good art. Many of them are not spectacular or clever exhibition pieces fit to be stored in some National Art Gallery and this is a big point in their favour.

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Their best works are among the few modern paintings that can be hung and lived with indefinitely, not only in Australian homes. They impart colour, beauty and warmth to the rooms on whose walls they hang and looking at them one is immediately inspired by the feeling of wide open spaces and airy spacious freedom.

These artists are interpreting for their public not houses or harbours, man-made fields, seascapes or pleasant green fields, but the harmonies of colour in rugged landscapes and the glow of patterning light that is reflected from the fissured faces of mountain bluffs.

The colour symphonies of Central Australia are derived from the sheer beauty of its eternal rocks, unobscured by any cover of earth or grass.

These artists, uneducated in the ways of the white man, who apart from Enar and Keith Namatjira speak no English, have never been to a city, nor read any criticisms of their work—not that they would understand any of the modern art jargon—are a unique and absorbing study.

It's amazing to think that it is only 90 years since the Aruntas came in contact with the first white man, that they are only one step removed from the stone age and that unasked they have taken to water colour painting as a serious and lifelong occupation. There were other European ways of making a living open to them. But to this very day the white man's new occupations are indulged in with little pleasure or perseverance by the young natives of Central Australia in spite of their complete detribalization and their profound ignorance of the traditions of their forefathers. So far painting has proved the only exception.

Of Namatjira much has been written and said. He was a fine person and a true gentleman of nature, who fell, as have done others before him arid no doubt others will after him, into the abyss between his old culture and the new, European way of life. In 1956 he was granted full Australian citizenship rights, enabling him to vote, to own property, and to go into hotels. He aped the white man, became a celebrity overnight and thus a controversial figure among his own people. They told him he had no right to their reserves, that he was a New Australian now, and to leave them be. As he was a leader of his people this situation presented all sorts of odd complications.

In 1957 he made his first trip to the city to meet Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother. He stayed at the home of Australian author Frank Clune.

In December 1958 he went again to Sydney to

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Frank Clune with Albert Namatjira. December 1958.

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have his portrait painted by William Dargie. This portrait was painted at the home of Frank Clune in one day and now hangs in the Brisbane Art Gallery.

Shortly after this trip he was convicted of sharing a battle of beer with a fellow native back in the Centre. The ever zealous long arm of British justice, upholder of law and peace etc., etc., was right on the job. There'd been nothing doing in the centre for months, Albert's friend took a swig from the bottle and then went walk-about. The law got to hear of it and rushed at Albert with notebooks and pencils and a subpoena as long as the Sydney Harbour Bridge. The fact that Albert and his people, like any other ancient society, had been sharing more vital things than a drink from the same bottle for centuries, didn't matter in the least. He was an Australian citizen and should have known better. For his generosity to his tribal brother Albert was sent to prison for six months. All through his trials and while the press reverberated with pleas on his behalf and various literary figures and art circles took their places behind him, Albert remained aloof and more than a little bewildered. He was thrown into a compound with all the down-at-heels—the methos, the scum of the earth, the killers. Albert was brokenhearted, his mana was desecrated, his leadership jeopardised, his spirit well and truly broken. In his own words—the white man had pointed the bone at him. Less than six months after his release Albert Namatjira collapsed while painting his beloved mountains 90 miles north of Alice Springs.

Since his death, the Hermannsburg School of Art for Native Artists has been without a leader and the artists have all gone walk-about.

Let us hope that Battarbee will have sufficient influence to get them back on the path again, united perhaps under the leadership of one of Albert Namatjira's sons.

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Of the total New Zealand population of 2,174,000 enumerated at the 1956 census, 137,000, or 6.31 per cent were classified as Maoris. This is stated in a report on the eighth volume in the 1956 census of population series. The volume deals with Maori population and dwellings.

Of the total Maori population, 96.2 per cent was located in the North Island and 72.5 per cent in the Auckland provincial district.

The drift to the towns, a characteristic of the New Zealand population generally, was accentuated in the case of Maoris. Where 9 per cent of Maoris were located in cities and boroughs in 1926, this rose to 19 per cent in 1951, and 24 per cent in 1956.

Though there was increasing intermarriage between Maoris and other sections of the community, the majority of the Maori population, 64 per cent in 1956 compared with 71 per cent in 1926, were classified as Maoris of full blood.

The occupations of the Maori labour force showed less diversity than the European, though the differences were less marked in the case of the female working populations. Data on Maori incomes were collected for only the second time in the 1956 census. More Maoris than Europeans were in the lower income groups, though again the differences were slighter for females. The comparative youthfulness of the Maori population would contribute to this, but was not enough by itself to account for the differences in income distribution. Similarly, the higher proportion of wage and salary earners and lower proportion of employers and workers in the Maori labour force was explained to some extent by youth.

As in the European population, the religious denomination most strongly represented in the Maori population was the Church of England. However, the second largest denomination for Europeans, Presbyterian, comprising some 24 per cent of the population, claimed only 2 per cent of the Maori population. After the Church of England, the largest religious bodies among Maoris were Roman Catholics with 16 per cent, Ratana with 14 per cent, Methodist with 8 per cent, and Latter Day Saints with 7 per cent. Of the total adherents of the Latter Day Saints (Mormons) 75 per cent were Maoris.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

The Citizens' All Black Tour Association, which fought discrimination in the selection of the team to tour South Africa, will disband this month. The possibility of a permanent organisation aimed at promoting race relations in New Zealand is being studied. One of the final acts of the national organisation may be to seek a bipartisan policy statement on race relations from Parliament. This was one of the main submissions a deputation made to the Prime Minister, Mr Nash, and the then acting-Leader of the Opposition, Mr Marshall, in February. Mr Rolland O'Regan, chairman of the Wellington branch of the national executive, is known to be anxious that the present organisation should end now. It has always been his belief, however, that the country needs a permanent body to promote understanding between the races. There has been no move yet to form such an organisation, and many questions have still to be studied before a decision will be reached.

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The Honourable Eruera Tihema Tirikatene, member of the New Zealand House of Representatives, Minister of the Crown, whose whakapapa has been established by the early historians of the Ngaitahu tribe of the South Island, is a person of noble birth; in his own right, he is a Rangatira of the Ngaitahu tribe, and is the great grandson, by senior line of descent, of Tuhuru, the Ariki and conqueror of Westland. Mr Tirikatene's European ancestry derives from his great-great-grandfather Lord Tregarthyn.

Born at Kaiapoi on 5 January, 1895, the eldest son of Captain John Driver Tregerthen (Tirikatene) and his wife, Tini Tuhuru Arapata Horau, Mr Tirikenatene received his early education at Tuahiwi School and the Kaiapoi District High School. He was a foundation member of the first pjatrol of Boy Scouts established in New Zealand. Mr Tirikatene was an all-round athlete: runner, wrestler, boxer, swimmer, footballer, motor-cyclist, speedboat racer, and an expert horseman.

He was a member of Te Hokowit-a-Tu, the Maori Battalion of the First New Zealand Expeditionary Force in the first World War. On his return to New Zealand, he married Ruti Matekino Horomona, daughter of a chieftainess of the Ngati-Pahauwera and Ngati-Kahungunu tribes of Hawkes Bay.

A man of many parts, Mr Tirikatene as well as being one of New Zealand's most forthright politicians, has had an interesting and varied career. He has been soldier, business man, farmer, stock dealer, timber miller, and master of his own sea-going ferry service and fishing craft, and is a certificated oil, gas, electrical and fluid marine engineer.

In the early nineteen twenties, Mr Tirikatene became deeply involved and closely identified with the Ratana movement, the largest totally Maori national group in New Zealand. In 1927, he was one of the four young men chosen by the founder Tahupotiki Wiremu Ratana to be his “koata” (quarter), Ratana's exclusive personal representatives in the spiritual life of the Ratana Church.

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Eruera Tihema Tirikatene. (N.P.S. PHOTOGRAPH).

In the realm of politics, Mr Tirikatene was thus vested with the highest status within the movement, and he retains this authority still.

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Mr Tirikatene was elected a Member of Parliament in 1932 and has continued in office ever since. From 1935 to 1958, he held office as President of the Maori Advisory Council to the New Zealand Labour Party and under his dynamic leadership, the Maori people's claim for compensation for earlier land confiscation and for legislative equality was appeased, appropriate legislation was introduced and effected by the Government between 1935 and 1949, when Mr Tirikatene was the representative of the Maori people on the Legislative Council. During this period, Mr Tirikatene was also associated with the other measures of legislative reform that were introduced and affected all New Zealand citizens.

In 1945, the Minister of Maori Affairs introduced the now well-known Maori Social and Economic Advance Act which was propounded and constructed by a nucleus of advanced thinkers under the leadership of Mr Tirikatene. This Act confers upon the Maori people, through their tribal committees, the statutory right to have a voice in their own affairs, and provides for the appointment of Maori Welfare Officers who act as liaison between the people and the government.

In 1932, Mr Tirikatene was appointed a Justice of the Peace, and in 1937, he was the senior Maori representative in the contingent that represented New Zealand at the Coronation of King George VI. He also attended the Commonwealth Parliamentary Association Conference while in England. In 1950, His Majesty King George VI conferred the life title of Honourable on Mr Tirikatene. At the centennial celebrations of France's occupation of New Caledonia at Noumea in 1953, Mr Tirikatene represented New Zealand.

During World War II, Mr Tirikatene was a prominent member of the New Zealand War Council. From 1939 to 1945, he was the chairman of the Maori War Effort Organisation, securing the fullest co-operaiton from the Maori people in providing essential services in New Zealand, as well as supplying reinforcements overseas to the Maori Battalion, which Mr Tirikatene was largely responsible for establishing.

When the National Government was defeated by the Labour Party in 1957, Mr Tirikatene accepted the portfolios of Forestry, Printing and Stationery, and that of associate to the Minister of Maori Affairs. Mr Tirikatene is everywhere regarded with admiration and respect. He has been dynamic in forestry, spreading its aims and achievements abroad, and he was the leader of the New Zealand delegation to the Fifth Session of the Asia-Pacific Forestry Commission of the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations, held at New Delhi, India, from 8–18 February. 1960. Mr Tirikatene was thus the first Maori to lead a delegation to the United Nations Organisation.

Among the many bodies on which Mr Tirikatene has served are the Ngaitahu Trust Board, the Maori Affairs Committee of the House of Representatives, the Ngarimu Scholarship Board, the Maori Purposes Fund Board and the Maori Veteran Soldiers' Board.

Because of his varied background and experience, Mr Tirikatene commands a notable facility for communication with people of every walk and condition.

His pride in his Polynesian heritage has become legendary; he is noted for his wisdom and eloquence as an orator, as a deeply versed scholar and outstanding exponent of the cultural lore of his people. Today, he is an acknowledged leader of the Maori people.

Mr Tirikatene is justly famous as an orator, and the splendour of Maori imagery, with the sonority of the Biblical language which means so much to him, has led to a great nobility of utterance in his English speeches. The following is a passage from his New Year message, broadcast on 1st January, 1960.

“Experiences in life mould the clay and fashion the spirit which enriches the soul. By each experience we are made different: each experience can be a means of learning, and the more we learn the more it is impressed upon us that what we know is really so little. In the theatre of war the farce of man's so-called power is featured; from the vast studies in the scientific field man discovers new distances which must be traversed and his learning fashions more baffling complexities with which he must grapple; and so it goes on, and every now and then an unexplainable phenomenon arises to which science cannot give an answer.

“Yet in pain and suffering, be it physical, mental or spiritual, one can come closer to God. Indeed, those who suffer setbacks in life have perhaps the best opportunity of becoming wholesome of the soul and more accessible to the Holy Spirit. And, as the calm follows the storm, one's understanding can also become of greater clarity after the mind has suffered—and the new-found tranquility and serenity can be profound.”

As we go to press, it has been announced that Eruera Tihema Tirikatene has received a knighthood from Her Majesty the Queen in the Birthday Honours for 1960. Te Ao Hou warmly congratulates Sir Eruera on his great honour, which, as this article makes so clear, he has richly earned.

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Approach onto the marae at Ruatok; from left, Mr A. L. Poole, Assistant Director of Forestry, Mr Tirikatene, Miss Whetu Tirikatene; on right, Mr Omana, member for Eastern Maori, and Mrs Omana. (N.Z. FOREST SERVICE PHOTOGRAPH)

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Hon. E. T. Tirikatene explaining ture, in Maori language. (N.Z. FOREST SERVICE PHOTOGRAPH)

The Ruatoki Declaration

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The audience at Ruatoki. (N.Z. FOREST SERVICE PHOTOGRAPH)

22 NOVEMBER 1959

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The wai; chant given after the speech; Hon. E. T. Tirikatene and Miss Whetu Tirikatene. (N.Z. FOREST SERVICE PHOTOGRAPH)

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On 22 November 1959 Mr E. T. Tirikatene as Minister of Forests, made a public declaration at Ruatoki in the Urewere country, on the future of the forest lands in the catchments of the Rangitaiki, Whakatane, Waioeka and Wairoa Rivers.

As Mr Tirikatene pointed out in his statement, it is incorrect and misleading to talk about one set of problems for the whole of the Urewera. The area under consideration included mainly the forested area in the Whakatane River catchment and only part of the forests in the other three catchment areas. The whole area came under survey because people living in the lower reaches of all four rivers are concerned about flooding and how activities in the forests affect matters.

Mr Tirikatene explained to the gathering at Ruatoki how Maori owners can dispose of timber on their land. There are two methods:

1. Prospective buyers of timber should make an application to the Maori Land Court for a statutory meeting of owners who can pass a resolution to sell. The consent of the Minister of Forests is then required, given under the Maori Affairs Act. Confirmation of this consent by the Maori Land Court is required.

2. The owners may fell the timber themselves and sell the felled logs or mill. This system can lead to abuse.

For many years, the New Zealand Forest Service consistently advised the Ministers of Forests to withhold consent to the sale of timber from Maori forests in the Urewera because of the danger of erosion and increased flooding that might accompany logging. Owners, however, were felling and selling their own timber and in recent years, this practice has grown.


The Hon. E. B. Corbett, Minister of Forests, Lands and Maori Affairs in the last National Government, considered that the Maori owners should be allowed to realise on their assets. He was also concerned that it was necessary for timber to be cut in such a way as to prevent erosion rather than allow the practice of uncontrolled cutting to develop. After discussions with the owners in 1953, he set up the Urewera Maori Land Committee to administer a scheme of controlled cutting. The scheme was known as the A, B, C system. Under it, land to be sold was inspected by a Land Use Committee which worked under the main committee. It was composed of representatives of the forest owners and the Departments of Lands, Maori Affairs, Works, Agriculture and Forestry.

As Mr Tirikatene said at the conclusion of his address, it is most important that all the forest lands of the Urewera be looked after in such a manner that their full protective value is maintained. Owners of Maori forests have agreed that this should be so. At the same time, owners' rights and interests must be protected. The same situation is, in fact, common to much protection forest throughout New Zealand. The Maori people are well aware of the need for such precautions. They have, indeed, an aptitude in the working of forests and it is to their advantage to work them carefully. Wherever possible, said the Minister, he would like to see them introduce permanent forest management.

“I think,” said Mr Tirikatene in conclusion, “that they should extend their forest estate throughout New Zealand by the planting of all suitable land owned by them. I make an appeal to Maori people who have land not capable of being used for agriculture. Plant trees on this land. This is the best use that can be made of it for your present employment and your future prosperity. The New Zealand Forest Service will always be available for advice and assistance.”

Note. This is a greatly abridged version of the report “Urewera. Facts and Figures of the Urewera Maori Lands in relation to the four catchment areas, National Parks and State Forests,” available on application from the Information Section. New Zealand Forest Service, Wellington, N.1.

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In February of this year, the newly constituted Wellington City Ballet presented in the Opera House Wellington, a full scale ballet in two acts, based on Maori legend. A review of this important event follows.

Children of the mist, a ballet in two acts by Leigh Brewer of Wellington, is based on one of the oldest legends in Maori folklore, the patu-paiarehe. The story of the ballet is briefly as follows: Ihenga, with his brother Tani, sets out to climb the enchanted mountain of Ngongotaha. Tani heeds the warning of the gods not to venture on the mountain and returns to lead their tribe in Ihenga's absence. But Ihenga climbs the mountain and falls in love with Maia, a mist fairy, and receives the gift of eternal youth as long as he stays with the fairy folk. For a time, he is contented and joins happily in the life of the fairy folk, forgetful of his tribe and all earthly interests. But his tribe still calls him and the first act ends on a note which expresses Ihenga's divided nature. In Act II, Ihenga returns to his people, but before he can reach the pa gates, the Green Lizard, harbinger of death, appears to warn Ihenga of approaching disaster. Ihenga does not heed the warning and calls to his people who challenge him as a stranger until, astonished, they recognise him and call him back to be their chief. As he grasps the sacred mere, his symbol of chieftainship, he ages rapidly. The days he has spent on the fairy mountain have been years. Maia, his fairy love, returns to find Ihenga, but their reunion is thwarted by the Green Lizard calling Ihenga to the underworld. Maia realises that Ihenga, a mortal, must die, and mist cloaks the stage, signifying the tears of the mist, Maia mourning Ihenga.

This bare outline of the story, taken from the programme, does no justice to the power of this ancient myth, symbolising as it does, that man is a divided creature, at once flesh and spirit, and that he will always try to burst the bonds that hold him to the earth. Nor does it do justice to the skill and enterprise of the Wellington City Ballet in mounting this ambitious work, surely the boldest ever to be staged by a New Zealand ballet group. As the curtain rose on a drop curtain, vivid with the shapes and colours of the New Zealand bush, the audience broke into spontaneous applause; then the curtain, lights behind it, became transparent; through it could be seen two Maori warriors, Ihenga and Tani, one on a promontory of rock, the other crouching below him, and one could hear the hiss of a steam vent, and see escaping clouds of steam. (I learned later that this was the mist of the ballet's title, but it looked and sounded like a small geyser, and its dramatic effect was considerable.)

The two quite admirable sets were the work of a young Wellington designer, Harry Baker, who showed great technical and imaginative resource throughout the evening. His first act showed us quite tangibly a New Zealand bush scene; the second, on the Marae, was in excellent contrast with its vivid reds and ochres, and he suggested a large fortified pa by a few well-designed pieces of scenery. His costumes were attractive and authentically Maori in style, and created striking colour patterns as the dancers moved through their figures.

A full score was specially composed for the ballet by Christopher Small, a young New Zealand composer who teaches at Waihi College. His music was everywhere appropriate to his subject and often, notably in the recurring theme which calls Ihenga home, strikingly beautiful, recalling and evoking the sharp northern landscapes that one feels in the music of Grieg and Sibelius. When the ballet called for the rhythmic strength and power of the challenge on the marae, Mr Small supplied this with a fine intensity. He was for

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Kevin Mansfield as Ihenga and Pauline Noorts as the Green Lizard in “Children of the Mist”. (Mr Mansfield, though not a member of the Maori race, was at one time, secretary of the Ngati-Poneke Social Club, and has since led Maori concert parties.) (PHOTO C. W. PASCOE)

tunate in having his score played most expertly by an ensemble drawn from the National Orchestra and conducted by Alex Lindsay.

But the full credit for a remarkable achievement must go to Miss Leigh Brewer as choreographer and ballet mistress to the whole ballet, and indeed, to the entire evening. She shows already a professional choreographer's skill in making her patterns of movement meaningful in the context of her theme; there was never the feeling that a dance solo or duet was merely a “turn”, holding up the action until it was over. All flowed, was smooth and sinuous, always expressing and propelling the story. The scene of the challenge on the marae was in my view the highlight of the ballet, because here the Maori theme and tradition seemed perfectly wedded to the technique of the dancers. Of some of the other choreography, the corps de ballet who represented the children of the mist, I remain still somewhat doubtful. Miss Brewer no doubt felt that in dealing with fairy folk she was free to give them the steps, style and attitudes she chose: who was to say that the patu-paiarehe did not dance on the ends of their toes? Nevertheless, for this reviewer, there remained a sense of incongruity The specifically European technique of dancing on the toes did not seem to spring out of the action as, say, the dancing on the marae so splendidly did. This may be merely the prejudice which comes from something unusual or unexpected. These reservations are minor, however. Miss Brewer and her colleagues produced together a ballet of considerable distinction of theme and imaginative power, produced with a professional finish, and it may be only the start of a truly national and indigenous ballet.


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former artistic director and founder of the New Zealand Players Theatre Trust

Anew play lay on my desk. It was The Pohutukawa Tree by Bruce Mason, and as always with a new production, I was thinking over the difficulties that had to be solved. There was no difficulty in the play as a play: here was drama, humour, clash of character and tension. An ageing chieftainess, proud descendant of a tribe that had moved before the encroaching pakeha, strove to bring up her son and daughter as worthy of their ancestors and in the light of the Christian religion she had fervently embraced. The inevitable happens. The boy, who she wants to become a preacher, falls before cheap pakeha culture—cowboy films, comics and the welcoming pub. The lonely girl becomes the mistress of a grocer's son from the Waikato with a smooth tongue, an itch to travel and an eye for innocent beauty. When the girl becomes pregnant and the young man refuses to marry her because of what his Mum will say, the Maori boy Johnny goes berserk, feels betrayed by the pakeha religion, and wrecks the local church. He is sent to a reformatory for three months. Queenie, the girl, is packed off to her tribe on the East Coast and finds herself welcomed there, but the mother's world has collapsed around her. She throws off her assumed religion and wills herself to die. Her friendly pakeha neighbours do their best to distract her, the local clergyman pleads with her. Dressed in the cloak of her ancestors, she gives her last speech of defiance: “I choose, if it must be, the way of pride. I will go proud down to my death, for that is all I have left. I will not be humbled: I will die true to my past. No, not even for Him will I weaken; I will not carve up my life, slice by slice, from the whale. I will go to the gods of my people. That is my choice. That is my victory.”

It was obvious that such scenes demanded acting of the highest calibre. Did anybody know of any Maori actresses? The answer was always a slow smile and a shake of the head. This meant two things: the first, to be frank, could be put into these words: “Do you think you could ever get Maori girls to study a part, learn a lot of lines, and give up nearly all leisure hours for a good six or seven weeks' rehearsal?” The second was simply that they had no experience. How could they have? There were no parts written for them.

Yet I felt that the opposite could be true. Maori people often have beautiful voices, richer, fuller, with vowels better enunciated, and a tradition of eloquence on the marae, a heritage of dancing and singing from the cradle and an opportunity to rub off the usual shyness of the beginner in innumerable tribal entertainments and concert parties. So in went an advertisement, calling for “All Maori actors and actresses” and the author and I waited to see who would turn up at the audition. We were not disappointed. Three Maori actresses came to the audition, and one face stood out at once. There was nobility in the brow, candour and fire in the eye and a nose that summoned memories of the early paintings of proud and fierce chiefs. There was strength and breeding in this face. When I asked her name, I expected a deep rich voice. “Hira Tauwhare” she said, but the tone did not match the handsome figure. Otherwise everything was perfect: excellent diction, training in ballet, training for opera.

A burst of laughter came from the other end of the room. Two laughing eyes caught my own. Auditions are usually solemn affairs with everybody tense—it was like laughter in church. “Who are you?” I asked. “Mary Nimmo.” The voice was soft and low though there were traces of the

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Hira Tauwhare as Aroha Mataira, Norman Florence as Johnny Mataira, Hermione Gregory as Queenie Mataira. Readers may be interested in the B.B.C. casting: Hermione Gregory has Indian blood, and Norman Florence is a South African of mixed Malayan and Spanish parentage. (B.B.C. PHOTOGRAPH).

Kiwi flattening twang which overlaid the pure vowels of a person used to speaking Maori. Mary Nimmo came from Horowhenua, Hira Tauwhare from the South Island. They were cast as mother and daughter.

Rehearsals soon began and one thing became quickly obvious. Whereas it took most of the cast some time to lose their self-consciousness and to assume their play personalities, both Hira and Mary were soon absorbed. They are what is called “natural actors”. Because they were “free” in their new characters, their movements were relaxed and expressive, their timing of actions was governed by the mood of the scene and they created an atmosphere of their own. There is a wedding scene under a marquee on a hot summer's day. Liquor flows, and tongues are loosened, and there is much ribald advice to the bridegroom. From early in rehearsal, Mary's performance as Queenie would differ considerably here from the spry ingenuousness of the opening scene. Her movements would grow languorous, her laughter less controlled, as she finds her senses opening with the stimulation of the pakeha wedding. Hira, as the mother, reacted in contrast: the more uncontrolled the revelry became, the greater her dignity. I can see her in performance now, her face wise with the traditions of generations, stilling the babble with her voice suddenly raised in the haunting cadences of a Maori chant.

Rehearsals were not always easy. Sometimes the subject matter of the play was embarrassing to the cast. The subject after all, was the strain and tension that arise in the effort of adjustment from one way of thinking to another, in the differences of race and colour. Mary recognised the truth of the play within herself and sought to project that. “That doesn't feel right,” she would sometimes say, and author and producer would work to find out why, and a line would be rewritten. Hira had a different problem. For a number of years, she had lived as a pakeha fighting to suppress the Maori side of her inheritance. Now she had to learn the language, awaken in herself the pride of her birthright, handle a taiaha with assurance give the victory haka “Ka whawhai, ka whawhai” so that it stirred the audience, and finally, dressed like the chieftainess of a Goldie portrait, die in the faith of her ancestors. The tribulations of this voyage of self-discovery gave her eventual performance great depth. There was something else too, which was to me both moving and stimulating, yet hard to define. Was it that the mastery of an ancient Western form of culture allowed her to release to us, to express to us some of the greatness of the old Maori—the marriage of our two cultures in a new fruitfulness?

Wellington and Auckland both greeted the play and the performances with a sense of excited discovery. The cast was delighted in the wedding scene where Aroha suddenly sings her song and the guests applaud, that the audience applauded too. As yet the rest of the country hasn't seen it, but the New Zealand Broadcasting Service is at present working on a radio version. On the other hand, an audience of millions in England saw the B.B.C. television production, in which Hira Tauwhare secured her old part against the powerful opposition of one of England's top actresses, Flora Robson. Here is the response of the critic of the London “Daily Herald”: “Those who watched the B.B.C. production of The Pohutukawa Tree” on television last night had an unforgettable experience. I mean the performance of the New Zealand actress Hira Tauwhare as an old Maori woman fighting to save her children from the ways of the white people. I have seen nothing on T.V. to match if for sheer, strange grandeur.”

Mary Nimmo's great opportunity came with “The Wide Open Cage”, by James K. Baxter, which I produced for Unity Theatre, Wellington. Here was a part rich in character, ever-changing in mood. At one moment, Norah Vane, the Maori girl she played, would be insulting a Catholic priest who sought to redeem her, in the language

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of the gutter; as he departed and the tension relaxed, she would grow tender. How freely Mary performed! With the audience within three feet of her she would run her hands through the hair of the man wanting to marry her with such a feeling of intimacy that they seemed to be alone on the moon. When she confessed the murder of her child to the priest, the audience hardly dared draw their breath, such was the sense of actuality her playing conveyed. I see her now, casually flipping her shoes off in a fatigued despair, fingering the skull of an ancient Maori chief, watching with cynical amusement, cradling the head of a suffering alcoholic, and crooning to him a cradle song of her mother's. “Acted with great sympathy,” said the Evening Post, Wellington. “I have rarely been so moved,” Dominion, and The New Zealand Listener called her “passionate and tortured.” There is certain to be a wider showing of this play, either as a feature film, or in a tour.

So Hira Tauwhare and Mary Nimmo join the impressive number of Maori artists working in the theatre. As singers, actresses and entertainers, their fame is now world-wide, and only yesterday, I watched a young Maori boy dancing in a ballet troupe with all the masculine vigour for which his people are renowned. The Maori people have a great deal to give to the theatre of this country.

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Mary Nimmo as Norah Vane in “The Wide Open Cage.” (PHOTO GEORGE KOHLAP).

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This is a story of a search for buried treasure, not the traditional hoard of gold and silver but for articles of stone-age craftsmanship hidden a century and more in the cool mud of a Waitara swamp by wood-carving artists of long ago. It is a story of how Maori and Pakeha this summer made important contributions to our knowledge of the old-time Maori and created also a precedent for combined archaeological research which should prove of incalculable value in the years to come.

Here then is the story of the planning, the hopes, the disappointments, the successes, the excitement and the fun of an absorbing project which gripped all who were privileged to take part.

Let's go back to the beginning, the very begining. Let us look at Waitara in the days before the white man came. Here where the land slopes gently north on the sunny side of Taranaki which the pakeha calls Mount Egmont, the Ati-awa people made their home. To their north lived the descendants of the Tokomaru and Tainui canoes, to their south those of Aotea and Kurahaupo. While they themselves had elements of all these in their ancestry, yet in the main it seems they went back in time to the great ancestor Awanui-a-rangi who was of the pre-Fleet people. In this they were associated with other branches of the far-flung Awa tribes in many parts of the country.

Aside from the mountain itself whose northern slopes lay within their territory, and the unique islands now called the Sugar Loaves near the present city of New Plymouth, the main geographical feature of the area is probably the Waitara River around whose mouth was a considerable settlement for hundreds of years. Beyond doubt it was a centre for the people who preceded the Fleet of 1350. At the time we are considering, the principal pa of Ati-awa at Waitara was Manukorihi. Its inhabitants were Ngati Manukorihi sub-tribe.

Manukorihi is situated about three-quarters of a mile from the mouth of the river and on its north bank. High bluffs facing the river formed two sides of the pa while the inland area was protected by a series of great trenches and ramparts flung across flat land. Beyond this again was rolling country intersected by shallow, swamp-filled hollows whose waters found their way slowly through flax and raupo to the river or to the sea. In these swamps Ati-awa concealed their treasures.

The pa was a large one. Elsdon Best, for instance, said that “… unquestionably the place would accommodate several thousands of natives in times of stress.” It was a bastion to which the scattered sub-tribes could retreat when war threatened.

And in the late 1700's and early 1800's such threats were all too numerous. Raids were made on many occasions by war parties from North Auckland and the Waikato, well armed swashbucklers who smashed through Ati-awa on their way to the territories of the Taranaki and Ngati Ruanui tribes or who lingered north of the mountain to try conclusions with Ati-awa itself.

In times such as this it was the known custom of the Maori to hide carved panels from his superior houses in nearby swamps, the preserving nature of which was well known in those days. This course was justified as the excellent state of preservation of the carvings recovered all over the country can bear witness. Because of the time taken to execute the carvings and their value as art treasures of the people there is little doubt that they were considered worth while taking particular care of.

Then again, in the early 1800's Ngati Manukorihi twice migrated from their home to accompany Te Rauparaha in his expeditions. After the first, in the early 1820's, they returned for a time and then in about 1825 or 1826 left the district for many years.

If the carvings were hidden at the time of the wars or the migrations there would be a number of reasons for not recovering them when elements of the tribes eventually returned. One would be that knowledge of the carvings was lost, another that because of the situation—the Puketapu feud or tension with European settlers, for instance—it was considered best to leave them where they were. Certainly no clear traditional account of their concealment has survived to the present time.

A further reason for the presence of the carvings in the swamps, that they were placed there to sea

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Pupils of the Waitara High School, Pakeha and Maori, took part in the search. This cheerful quartet includes, from left to right: Glenys Kelly, Felix Ngatai, Moana Cameron and Loma Puke. (TARANAKI DAILY NEWS PHOTOGRAPH)

son after they had been completed, was not very seriously considered as the others seemed far more logical. With the careful excavation of January and February, however, this reason has been given far more consideration and may ultimately be regarded as the most important.

So from time to time carvings have come to light as drains have been cut through the swamps. Many of the museums of the country have an example or two of the art of the Taranaki wood carver but most of them have come to light in comparatively recent times. As superb examples of carving the lintels have pride of place. To the present writer's knowledge nine of these pare are in existence and of these perhaps seven were found in swamps. Another group of carvings preserved are epa or panels of storehouses. About half a dozen have been found over the years.

And that brings us back to the present. In April, 1958, Mr A. G. Barnitt, working on his father's farm on Richmond Road, Waitara, found an epa. The same month Mr P. Cole discovered a similar panel on his property on nearby Tikorangi Road. News of the finds brought the curator of the Canterbury Museum, Dr Roger Duff, who was attending a conference at Wanganui, to Taranaki. He was strongly of the opinion that a methodical search of the area should be carried out and he persuaded the New Plymouth Library and Taranaki Museum Committee to back the project on the understanding that any artifacts found would go to the museum.

Now let it be understood that the properties to be searched are not Maori land. The pakeha owners were most co-operative and no practical difficulty existed to stop a search as soon as it could be organised. No practical difficulties, perhaps, but there were moral ones. Dr Duff said firmly that he would have nothing to do with the project without the goodwill and absolute approval of the Maori people of the district whose ancestors had put the carvings in the swamps.

I was priviledged to be present at several of the meetings at which Dr Duff met the Maori people of Waitara and explained the objects of the search and asked for their co-operation. While his friendly manner and obvious sincerity were convincing enough when linked with logical argument, few Maoris indeed would have been able to withstand for long the appeal of a pakeha scientist—and a distinguished one at that—who paid them the compliment of speaking to them solely in their own loved mother tongue.

So it was decided that the Maori people had no objections. It was not decided quickly—in fact the whole of the organisation took about two years. The most searching question put to Dr Duff was that of an Ati-awa elder, Mr R. Watson, the gist of whose query was this: “If the old people put the carvings in the swamp with the idea of some day recovering them, I say seek them and place them in the museum. But if they put them there for ever, I say leave them there for ever. Can Dr Duff assure us that the carvings were put

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Dr Roger Duff (left) and the Rev. Manga Cameron examine a carving found in the swamp some years ago. Dr Duff, who is curator of the Canterbury Museum, Christchurch, directed the search at Waitara in January and February on behalf of the Taranaki Museum. Mr Cameron, who is an Anglican Maori missioner at Waitara, conducted a unique service at Manukorihi Pa before the search began to remove any suggestion of tapu which might be thought to linger over the works of art laid in the swamp by stone-age carvers. (TARANAKI DAILY NEWS PHOTOGRAPH).

there with a view to their recovery at some future time?”

Dr Duff gave the assurance. Not only was there no opposition but many Maoris joined in the search day after day for over a month.

After the first meetings, but some time before the search began, interest was fanned to fever heat by the discovery right in the selected area of a magnificent pare, perhaps the finest of all the carvings ever recovered from Taranaki swamps. It was found completely by accident on Good Friday, 1959, by a 12-year-old Waitara schoolboy, Shaun Ainsworth. Shaun had slid into a ditch to release a frog from the school aquarium when he saw part of the carving projecting from the bank.

Before the search began a church service was conducted within the carved walls of Te Ika-roa-a-Maui, Ati-awa's fine meeting house set among the green lawns of Manukorihi pa. The lesson recalled how God had called Bezaleed, son of Uri, and had filled him with the Spirit of God “in wisdom, understanding and knowledge, and in all manner of workmanship” even “… in carving wood, to make any manner of cunning work.”

The Rev. Manga Cameron, Church of England Maori missioner at Waitara, said that while the searchers were paying a tribute to the ancient craftsmen they were also paying tribute to God who inspired artist and artisan alike. Elders had told him that if they had had to undertake a similar project their approach would have been to refer to those who had passed beyond the veil and to say to them “Peace be unto you”, asking also that the searchers be not hindered or harmed. Today the prayer was the same—a request that the project prosper—directed not to the ancient craftsmen but to their Maker.

The gathering of several hundred people, both pakeha and Maori, joined in the service and later greeted Dr Duff and members of his party. These included a member of the Canterbury Museum staff, Mr R. Scarlett, and members of the Canterbury Museum's Archaeological Club. Interested people from as far north as Whangarei were also present, as were representatives of the many organisations which assisted in the organisation of the search, notably the Taranaki Museum Committee and the Waitara Borough Council.

That was Sunday, January 17. On Monday morning the first sods were turned in a swampy hollow on the farm of Mr F. Olsson, Richmond Street, just on the outskirts of the eastern part of Waitara.

This area had been chosen because although little more than two acres in extent, it had in the past yielded three pataka panels and one pare. It was one of four areas which had been surveyed for the search in the previous months. As it happened the search for the next four and a half weeks was entirely concentrated here and the three other areas have yet to be explored.

Acting under Dr Duff's instructions, the surveyors, Messrs A. D. McLennan and T. E. A. Astwood, had laid out a baseline of three chains on the bank of one arm of the swamp. Where this arm met the main flow of the swamp—indicated

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by a deep ditch—the baseline was cut by another line at right angles. On these two lines a grid consisting of 5ft. 6in. squares (one-twelfth of a chain) was built, each square bearing its own letter and number. Thus excavation could proceed according to plan and thus any find could be easily mapped on a master plan.

About 50 people—Maori and pakeha—took part that first day, including a number of children. The first trench was opened by the Canterbury party, many of whom were veterans of other archaeological expeditions. Others soon learned the basic technique and work got under way in three separate trenches.

The pattern which quickly developed under Dr Duff's quiet but efficient direction was for the sods to be cut by adults and piled in heaps by children. Then the top soil was carefully dug until the spongy peat was encountered when care dictated whether spades or trowels should be used.

There was a picnic air about the whole procedure from the first day to the last. Each trench was placed in the charge of an experienced worker and the work went merrily along notwithstanding the hot weather which prevailed most of the time. Each morning water seeped into the trenches and had to be bailed out. A pump operated by a motor was also used.

The first find was made on January 21 in No. 1 trench where a number of young people, pakeha and Maori, were working under the direction of Miss K. Fletcher, of Christchurch. The discovery was a ko, a digging implement complete with its teka or footrest. A remarkable feature was that the lashing of split vine which bound the teka to the ko was still in position although very brittle. The careful excavation showed that the ko had not been placed there haphazardly but had been put carefully upon short pieces of stick and covered with fern. Stones had been used to hold the fern packing in position. The ko was excavated with extreme care, packed in moss and damp peat in a specially made box and placed in a cool store where it will be allowed to dry out very gradually.

This find set the pattern for the whole dig. In all 20 ko and 12 tekas were found. In the words of an editorial in a local newspaper it was “… almost as if the party had taken the roof off a Polynesian tool shed.” It was a remarkable achievement, unprecedented in New Zealand archaeology, as was the further discovery of evidence of wood-working. Day after day the searchers found at the bottom of the peat, where stones and sand showed the position of an ancient stream bed, piles of adze-cut totara chips, some charred by fire and many bearing the clear marks of the stone adzes. There were thousands of these chips of all sizes and bushels of them are now in the basement of the Taranaki Museum.

To complete the picture of wood-working, two totara logs were found bearing evidence of having been worked right there in the swamp. In one case the workers found bundles of sticks in the mud near one of these logs leading to the conclusion that they were placed there to form a path. It looked as if the Maori carvers may have searched for swamp timber and carried out their work on the spot. Then, perhaps, the carvings were placed in the swamp to season.

In addition a food bowl of the kumete type was found and also a fern root pounder, both in wood and in reasonable condition.

These material accomplishments of the search

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Shaun Ainsworth, son of Mr and Mrs F. H. Ainsworth, Richmond Street, Waitara is shown here with the carving he found in the swamp on Good Friday, 1959. This picture is a reconstruction of the discovery. The carving, a lintel or pare which of old adorned the doorway of a superior house, was briefly placed back on the bearer which had supported it in the peat for a century or more. Shaun, who was nearly 14 when he found the pare, is kneeling in the ditch he was walking along when he saw a piece of the carving protruding from the side. (TARANAKI DAILY NEWS PHOTOGRAPH).

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were all the more heartening in that they were unexpected. What was hoped for, the discovery of some exquisite piece of the wood carver's art, did not occur—at least at the site of the search. Two significant finds, however, were made by accident by other people in the district, finds that keyed up the Richmond Street diggers and made them all the more eager.

The first of these independent discoveries was made by Mr A. E. Gernhoefer, a Waitara Borough Council employee who was working on the site of a new children's playground close to the Waitara River. His find was a carved lintel, smaller than that found by Shaun Ainsworth but nevertheless a most interesting piece of carving. That was on January 26. Then on January 29 Mr J. Kilpatrick who was operating a mechanical ditch digger on a farm at Motunui, a mile or so out of Waitara, threw out of the black ooze in which his machine was working a splendid pataka panel. It was a gem of its kind, a deeply-graven slab with writhing, serpentine figures of the kind typical of Taranaki carving. It probably took its place on the right hand side of a storehouse as one faces it and therefore had one side longer than the other to conform with the sloping roof beam. Its longest side was 4ft. 2in., its shortest 2ft. 9 ½in. It was about 14in. wide and in parts 4½in. thick. The steel jaws of the ditch-digger's grab did only superficial damage.

The search ended on February 17. The material gains have already been mentioned but the less tangible ones are probably more important. These include:

The impressive and unprecedented co-operation of both races in a project of this nature with all the value that such a precedent has.


The intense interest the project has aroused in Taranaki from which the museum has already benefited by way of numerous gifts and from which it must continue to benefit.


The training of a large group of young people in the fundamentals of archaeological work and the arousing of their interest in an educational, absorbing and healthful activity. It might be noted that so valuable was the experience counted by educational authorities that selected pupils of the Waitara High School worked for nearly two weeks of normal school time in the area.

And what of the future? Well, the dig will continue as weather permits. A core of adults will assist about 30 young people who have formed themselves into an archaeological club. Both older and younger enthusiasts include members of both races. They will be directed by the curator of the Taranaki Museum, Mr Rigby Allan, and there are high hopes that more light will be thrown upon the life of the old-time Maori through their endeavours.

That in the long run must be the purpose of all such excavation. It is not so much the article found but the circumstances in which it is found that is important for only by examining one in the light of the other can worthwhile conclusions be reached, conclusions which widen our knowledge of other days and deepen our respect for those who have gone before. Without skilled direction, systematic planning, careful recording and thoughtful subsequent analysis, searches such as the Waitara one can easily become mere trophy hunting and curio collecting. When curiosity or cupidity become the aims, the works of our ancestors might well be left to lie concealed for all time.


“Archaeologists are interested in the Maori race here and now; they have love and respect for the Maori here and now and it is a gross untruth to think that their study is only of the dead Maori.” This was said by the curator of the Canterbury Museum, Dr Roger Duff, in an address he gave at Hawera during the time he was directing on behalf of the Taranaki Museum a search at Waitara for buried Maori artifacts.

Dr Duff, who certainly practised what he preached while he was at Waitara, went on to give sound advice to all who were interested in archaeology in New Zealand. Even when not working over Maori land, he said, the archaeologist was seeking lost Maori property. Thus, however tempting a site might be, it was essential not to excavate against the wish of the present Maori people. This had been done at Waitara and what was more, a religious ceremony had been conducted also which helped greatly to allay any understandable misgivings some of the people might have had regarding the project.

The pakeha had not produced any art in New Zealand comparable with that of the Maori stone age, he said, and the Maoris themselves had lost much of the power and beauty of their art since the coming of the white man. The ancient craftsmen of the area in which he was searching at present had drawn inspiration from Mount Taranaki and from the legends of his ancestors but later craftsmen had not been capable of producing the masterpieces of former times.

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Eruera saxton stood up, brushed the hair back from her eyes. Now, if ever, was the time to speak. Her son was almost out of the gate.

“Matiu, I want a talk with you.”

Her voice didn't sound her own. He didn't hear. She shrieked, “Matiu”. It shocked them both. For a moment she didn't know what to say. Then, “Come here boy,” she wheedled.

He came as far as the gate and leaned on it.

She walked slowly down the path, a short, stout body of a woman. “Don't push too hard, you'll lose him,” the thought came, nagging at her resolve, but she thrust it aside. “He's your son, there's things he should do and things you should do.” She set her shoulders but her face betrayed her feelings, made more violent by her efforts to conceal. He did not bother to hide his impatience.

“Matiu. You not going with that girl, are you?”

Well, you never knew, did you? Wonder who told her? Probably heard it down the store months ago.

“You've got a voice … well … what you got to say?”

He lit a cigarette.

“You're only seventeen, you're not a man yet.”

There, she hadn't meant to say it, but it was out. He'd probably go now. She knew it wasn't really badness, he was just trying to prove he was a man.

“When you goin' to stop tryin' to prove you're a man?”

He didn't trust himself to speak. He wanted to go. Why did she have to make trouble? He didn't want a fight, but gasped out, before he could stop—

“Okay. So you want to know. I'll tell you. Going away. Got a good job in town. Get married soon.” None of which was true, but it served.

“A pakeha girl, Matiu? No, not a pakeha, Matiu—”

So that was it, not this ‘you're too young’ but ‘pakeha, pakeha’, the same old song.

“What's wrong with a pakeha?”

“Don't you speak pakehas to me. You hear?” Despite himself, he recoiled from her anger; then deliberately raised his hands, took a long draw and blew out a great cloud of smoke; he was a man, wasn't he? He could please himself.

“Anyway, she wouldn't have you.”

“You think so? You think so?” he sneered and stalked away. The motor-bike roared and gravel fell in a fine splatter around the gate, but the woman just stood there. Sometimes she hated the boy. He was his father all over again. She closed her eyes tight, but she couldn't shut out his lank, indifferent from. Only his father had been fair where this boy was dark—the pakeha, the best catch she'd ever get, said Maggie. The worst. Not for her, never again. Her back began to ache. Kidney-trouble. That's what kids did for you. A cup of tea and a little lie down, that's what she needed.

⋆ ⋆

He leaned into the last corner and came roaring on to the main and only street. Jim's old truck was outside the bar. “Whee-heee!” He let go with a screech that set three old pensioners on the pub verandah shaking an dnodding like flax-stems in a wind, but the little kids loved it. They wanted to play with his bike.

“Don't let it fall. Else you'll be the meat in the sandwich,” he said and left them to it.

“Howzit man?”

Big Jim turned. “Who d'you think you are? Hopalong Cassidy?” but he was grinning. That made it all right. He took Jim aside. “Get us a carton for tonight, will you, Jim? Put her in the truck. Okay?” And he slipped Jim the necessary.

“She right boy. Now on your way. This is where the men live—” and he gave the boy a friendly belt on the backside. He'd take that from Jim—nobody else. Jim was his boss, the best man ever.

The bike roared into life first kick, the kids yelled and scattered, but he was gone. Once clear of the town, he realized he had nowhere to go. On the off-chance Billy was home for the week-end he called at Kereru's but there was only the old lady and the kids. He listened to the old lady for a while, killing time. Then he went round to Davies' place, but nothing doing, they were all down at the pub getting primed up for the night. Although he knew there'd be nobody there, this

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time of the year, he went down to the beach, and lay on the warm side of a sandhill, smoking and thinking about the night and the girl and this place where he first met her.

She was his girl all right, nothing but the best for this boy. He'd show them. Yet there was, even in the glow of possession, a sense of wonder and a growing uncertainty. It was too much to expect of a fate that had given him an old shack in the middle of nowhere, and a mother but no father. He felt somehow incomplete, not because of his father being dead, but because he'd never known him, could not remember, however much he tried. All he had was the name, not even a picture. Just the name. It was his mother's fault.

He found himself thinking of Jim. But his old man would've been more like the Davies'. Even that would've been all right with him. If his Mum weren't such an outsider here, he could've asked somebody. But the only one who'd known his mother in the old place was his Uncle Hen and Uncle Hen never talked. They didn't get on too well. Uncle Hen expected him to pay the rent for that dead-loss place. Nobody else would have it—that's why he gave it—but that's typical, the meanest Maori in the whole district, his uncle.

It was cold. The sun was nearly down. He got up stiffly, brushed the sand from his clothes, noticed with annoyance his trousers were creased, and stumped off towards the bike.

⋆ ⋆

Everybody was at Davies', even his uncle. The party was well under way. He'd never seen his uncle so tight. He was making a fool of himself, kept on trying to give a speech. He'd swear, and everybody would shut him up, and then he'd swear some more. It was as funny as a fight, at first. Then he began to feel ashamed. He tried to take his uncle out of there, but Hen. turned round, his eyes focusing slowly and his speech coming

– 47 –

thickly, “You? What you doin' here? This no place for young buggers just turned sixteen.”

He roughly pulled his uncle's arm. “Come on, we're goin' home.”

“And since when—d'you think you can talk to me like that? You're not my bloody kid. You might be the boss's blow-by-night, but that don't mean you can push me round. Jus' the boss's blow-by-night—” and he laughed obscenely. The boy didn't know what he meant, but had a fair idea when he heard somebody titter. He flushed red. Old Meg came hustling up. “The boy's father's no fault of his. You hear? You shut your big mouth.”

The boy did the best thing possible: stalked out, into the night. Hardly knowing where he was going, he groped over to Jim's truck, sat there, felt the carton by his feet, bent down and cracked one.

Half-way through the second, he saw Hen. pause a shaky moment in the light and stagger out. Silent as a shadow the boy was out of the cab. His hands were shaking. He'd kill the pokokohua. He took his uncle from behind, wrapped an arm round his throat.

“Wha' did ya say ‘bout my old man? Eh? Eh?” His uncle was clawing and fumbling, the boy let go, let him drop to the grass. “I want to know. who was my old man?” And he stood there with his boot ready.

“Okay. You arst for it. Your ole man was the biggest bastard I ever seen. He left your ma when she was six months gone. If it weren't for me you'd never of been born even. An' this is all the thanks I get. A nice boy, she says. By Christ, boy, you only got one friend in the world—and that's the one you treat worst. Jus' take a look at—” but the boy was gone.

Crouched over the handlebars, exhaust roaring at an indifferent world, wind whipping at his jacket, eyes slitted and peering into the hostile dark, he tore up the long road, houses slipping away behind him. But it was a dead-end. He chopped her to second and swung in a tight Uturn—too tight.

The road slammed him on the side of the head. The motor was clattering crazily. He reached over, killed it and lay there. The dust settled and all was still.

He forced himself up, painfully, raised a hand to his face, drew it quickly away. Just a graze. There was a tear in one leg of his trousers. Nothing else. Even the bike seemed all right.

As if he knew exactly where he was going and

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what he was doing, he brushed himself down, wiped his shoes with a piece of rag, raised the tips of his collar high and rode slowly down to the station. He was going to go in there and take Ellie to the dance. He'd had enough of this fly-by-night business. It was time they let her parents know. He knew it was right thing. They couldn't do anything about it. He walked right up to the door and didn't falter when he saw through the glass it was Mr and not Mrs Dashfield shuffling up the passage.

“Hullo, young feller. What can we do for you?”

“I've come to take Ellie to the dance.”

Mr Dashfield gasped like a goldfish, and like a goldfish, no sound came out. “Er, I'd better go and see,” he said at last.

He could hear them talking at the back of the house, Ellie's high voice, and then her father, getting louder and louder.

“You tell him,” he heard, “you're responsible.” He couldn't catch her reply, but it was Mr Dashfield who came up the passage.

“I'm sorry. Ellie's already arranged to go out with somebody else.”

“Could I speak to her please?”

“Er—I suppose so. Just hold on a minute.”

He held on for two, three, four minutes and then Ellie came down the passage; “I'm so sorry,” she said, self-consciously patting a last curl, “but I was in the middle of getting changed.”

This was a bit different from the Ellie he had known. If she had ‘gone to town’, told him to clear out, it would've been all right, but she was so remote, so distant, as if invisible doors had closed between them. He forced himself to say, “Ellie, I've got to talk with you. Can I see you at the dance?”

“Aw, I don't know.”

He flushed. “I thought you were going with me.”

“I said I'd see you at the dance. I didn't say for you to—”

“Who's it you're going with?”

She bridled, “None of your business.”

“I said who's it you're going with?” She recoiled, frightened by the look in his eyes.

“Go away. You've caused enough trouble already. I didn't say I was going with you.”

So that was it. So that's why she said “keep it a secret”. Not that he had. He was a Maori, not good enough for her.

“If you really want to know,” she was saying, “I'm going—” but he didn't give her a chance to finish; “My father's a pakeha, same as yours. Better than yours.”

She looked astonished. “You disgust me,” she said and slammed the door.

Hating himself and the whole world he roared back, past the party, past the dance. When he came to his gate, he turned in. The lamp was still on.

“Where you been?” asked his mother.

“None of your business.”

“In a fight?”

“I said, ‘none of your business’.”

“Where are you going now, son?”

He wasn't going anywhere, just wanted to change his trousers, but he said “Out!”

“Your tea's on the stove—Johnson called in—dropped off some wild pork—got three weaners—” the old voice faltered on while savagely he packed his clothes. He couldn't stand it, had to get away. The more he thought about it, the better it seemed. But she pretended not to notice, went about laying his place: “You'll be hungry, son?”

“I've eaten.”

She didn't want to hear. “I got some puha. Never seen so much as this year. Must be all this rain.” Then, as he was closing his case, she faced him “Where you going, son?” Her voice was weak, as if it were already too late.

“Away.” He felt his resolve weakening. “On my own.” In his weakness, he brushed his mother roughly aside. “I'll write.”

And he roared up the white road. Where was he going? He neither knew nor cared.

Teaching the Malay language in New Zealand was suggested by the Prime Minister of Malaya in a farewell broadcast after his recent tour of New Zealand. The language was spoken by more than 100 million people in South East Asia who were the closest to New Zealand and Australia, he said. “This would be, to my mind, the surest and most effective way of cementing relations between the peoples of this region,” he said. “English is an official language in Malaya and is being taught extensively in our schools and in Indonesia. It would be very useful for you, on your part, to encourage the study of Malay among your people. One thing we can do under the Colombo Plan is to provide teachers for this purpose.”

Two historic series of cave drawings by the oldtime Maori have been found at Rapanui and Mokau, North Taranaki, similar to a notable discovery at Tongaporutu, reported to the Polynesian Society in 1939. The drawings, though fairly crude are of considerable archaeological and ethnological interest and it is hoped to excavate one cave and take impressions for preservation in the Taranaki Museum of the more interesting inscriptions in the three caves. Human footprints with three, four, five and six toes dominate the inscriptions but the old-time artists have included representations of fish, a woman, what could be a hei-tiki, a canoe prow and a bird, with a few other figures of obscure reference. The six-toed foot-print recalls that Te Rauparaha was reputed to have six toes, while there is a history of children who have been born in the district with six toes.

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Keith Sinclair. Pelican Books. English price, 3s. 6d.

Once Professor J. Davidson, of the Ausralian National University, invited a future New Zealand historian to write the early history of his country with the Maori set firmly in the centre foreground of his picture and the European taking his proper place in the background. This, in brief, is close to what Dr Sinclair has attempted.

Davidson's article in the journal Historical Studies was an early and effective shot fired in what has since become a campaign against the New Zealand Company. The hired writers of the Company—e.g. Edward Jerningham Wakefield—early set a pattern of New Zealand history writing. This pattern was designed originally to defend the Company against well-merited charges of dishonesty, fraud, greed and sheer inefficiency; it also attempted to blacken government officials, both here and in the United Kingdom, and to depict the Company as a band of patriotic Englishmen selected by Providence to save New Zealand for British civilisation. Because government policy was based upon humanitarian reasoning, because officials tended to consider the Maori first and the settler second, history written on the Company pattern was to be anti-Maori as well as pro-settler. This did not mean, except rarely, that the Maori was portrayed as in essence inferior or sub-human; it merely meant that history was written from the standpoint of the victors. The Maori, except as an impediment to settlement, was ignored. He might be brought in as picturesque detail, he might be praised for his courage; his decline could be regretted, but the tears were crocodile tears.

Recent scholarship has altered this picture considerably. The work of Buck and Firth has enabled historians to see Maori society as much more than just a doomed obstacle. The work of John Miller and Michael Turnbull has illuminated the Company from the standpoint of its records rather than its apologetics. The work of Beaglehole, Rutherford, Williams (and Sinclair himself) has made possible a more accurate assessment of official policy in the 1830s and 1840s. The way has been opened for a historian to do just what Dr Sinclair has done in the early chapters of this eminently readable history. He does write of New Zealand in the early 19th century with the Maori set firmly in the centre of the picture.

So he begins with the bold and successful literary device: ‘In the beginning Papa and Rangi, the earth and the sky, mother and father of the gods, lay close together with their children huddled between them in the darkness.’ He goes on to devote about half the length of a 300 page book to the history of New Zealand before 1870. From the point of view of New Zealand as a British colony, it is a mere 30 years; from the point of view of New Zealand as a Polynesian society, it is an indeterminate number of centuries, broken at the end by the arrival of strange and (eventually) unwelcome visitors.

But even so the historian must put more stress upon the conflict of Maori and settler in this overall period than upon the straightforward history of Maori society before the disruption. Dr Sinclair can give only 12 page to the Maoris before Tasman spoke the prologue to the drama of racial conflict. For the Europeans left records behind them, tangible documents in some quantity; the Maori left simply archaeological remains, the assessment of which is merely beginning, and a store of legend of dubious usefulness to the historian. The historian's first and elementary task is to construct a chronology—to say what happened and in what order. Purely Maori historical materials do not even allow him to perform this initial task.

Dr Sinclair, by the simple facts of the case, could not put the Maori alone at the centre of his picture, but had to set there two figures, the Maori and the settler, regarding each other first with friendship, then with suspicion, and finally with anger. And he tells us a good deal more about what went on in the minds of settlers—those who loved the Maori, those who hated him, those who cheated him and those who tried to protect him—than about what passed through the minds of the Maoris. For the Maoris wrote few letters, published few newspapers, kept no minute books or diaries.

There may exist, in oral tradition, and perhaps even in as yet unknown records, the materials from which a truly Maori history of the period between first contact and final conflict conld be written. If so, it will probably be the job of a Maori scholar to find them and tell us what they mean.

Half of Dr Sinclair's book, then, is a fastmoving, brilliantly written, learned and colourful account of racial conflict in the earlier 19th century. It is a period and a topic which he has made very much his own in detailed research, and his treatment is a part of our literature as well as our history. Parts II and III recount the history of New Zealand since 1870—New Zealand as in essence a European society. But if the Maori receded into the background, the Pacific Ocean does not; Dr Sinclair insists on treating New Zealand in terms of its geography and its immediate neighbours. Apart from this emphasis, the latter half of the book is a prolonged and eloquent sermon preached upon some such text as ‘All men are created equal, and New Zealanders have been determined to achieve equality.’ Most reviews of the book have concentrated upon this later section, and it has stirred up a good deal of controversy. But it is my impression that the first half of the book will prove the more enduring.

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Pacific Viewpoint, published twice yearly by the Department of Geography, Victoria University of Wellington, £1 per year. Vol. 1, No. 1, March 1960

This Magazine covers a wide area, not only the Pacific Islands and New Zealand but also South East Asia and China. The first issue has not much New Zealand material, but there is an article ‘The Maori in Town and Country’ by J. Booth which brings together some results of recent research, and incidentally mentions Te Ao Hou's Auckland issue in some detail.

The editor, Prof. Buchanan, contributes an excellent article on ‘The Changing Landscape of Rural China’ which gives an objective and most illuminating description of the way Communist China solved its enormous economic problems.

I understand that future issues will have a slightly more New Zealand flavour; I certainly hope so. Although the first issue is of very high quality, there are many interesting local problems that can be studied by a paper of this kind which, although edited by a geographer, is much broader in its interests than the typical productions of the geographic professionals.


– 51 –

“Historic Wellington”. Alexander, John H. Wellington: A. H. & A. W. Reed. 48 pages. 6s. 6d.

With “Historic Wellington” Mr Alexander has made a notable contribution to the preservation of our provincial history. Although he could be criticised by the purists for the historical content of his text Mr Alexnder is primarily concerned with recording for the future a visual record of early Wellington. His collection of drawings has done this admirably and will serve for many years as a source of reproduction for future historians, biographers and admirers of Wellington's early buildings.

There is no orderly presentation of material in this book, but each section with its drawings is a delightful story in itself well written by Mr Alexander who, with the aid of a keen human insight, gives a down-to-earth readable interpretation of the history of each family or building. He includes early churches, commercial and government buildings, the homes of old well known Wellington families and then moves out into the country portraying expertly, among others, the old homestead of Hakaraia Rangikura at Rangiuru Road, Otaki.

All told this is an excellent publication which Wellington can be proud of. My only criticism (and I have left this to the last so as not to obscure the good I wanted to say about it) is that Mr Alexander failed to record in his illustrations the old home of Edward Gibbon Wakefield on the Terrace. In view of the very large part played by Wakefield in the early Wellington story I would have thought this would have been a “must” in any illustrated record of historic Wellington.



“Brown Conflict” by Leo Fowler. George G. Harrap. English price, 13s. 6d. Reviewed by the Rt. Rev. W. N. Panapa, Bishop of Aotearoa.

I can recommend Mr Fowler's book to all New Zealanders, both Pakeha and Maori, as one that we can all read at the present time profitably, and that for three reasons.

Firstly, it comes at a time most opportune when race relationship in New Zealand and all the world over is more than merely a live topic. Perhaps we in the past have opened our mouths too widely and given the impressions that we lead the world in the matter of racial integration. It is a good thing that we should take stock of ourselves and realise that no one is necessarily accepted on reputation but only on one's daily worth; and whether we like it or not, we must be ready and willing to suffer for the misdemeanour of our own people.

Secondly, the title of the book is a good one and true: “Brown Conflict”. It was conflict right from the beginning and it is well for us to remember that only through conflict can we measure up to one another and find, in the words of Robert Burns, “a man's a man for a' that.” The historical background of the book was an interesting period in New Zealand history during the latter part of the nineteenth century. And so the story unfolds itself in a milieu of the pioneering days as the years of conflict, the settlers wanting more land, and the Maoris fighting to retain it. As the Maori proverb puts it succinctly: “He wahine he whenua e mate ai te tangata.” Man dies for his womenfolk and land.

And last but not least, in that particular setting, Mr Fowler tells his story well and ture. All his characters are more than fictional, indeed they are live persons we have all met down the years. Perhaps one could best sum up one's own impression of a delightful book by quoting the old adage, “Truth is stranger than fiction.”

“On this site stood Mawhera Pa where James Mackay completed the deed of sale of Westland with the Maoris—May 21, 1860.”

Thus reads the inscription on the plaque which is to be erected in Tainui Park, almost opposite the end of the Cobden Bridge on the Greymouth side. It was unveiled on May 21.

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48a Manners Street, Wellington C.I.

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(Continued from page 9)

Countries taking part in the seminar were Afghanistan, Australia, Canada, Cambodia, Ceylon, China, France, India, Indonesia, Iran, Japan, Korea, Laos, Malaya, Nepal, Netherlands, North Borneo and Sarawak Phillipines, Singapore, Thailand, United Kingdon, United States of America, Russia, Vietnam and New Zealand, with special delegates from UNESCO and South Pacific Commission. The main purpose of the seminar was to find ways and means of so improving the content of school publications (whether textbooks or supplementary reader) as to increase the mutual appreciation of Eastern and Western cultural values. The ultimate aim of Unesco was to bring countries closer together by knowing more about each other.

The conference began with a series of statements by all delegates describing briefly the systems of education in their countries, the problems they face and how they handle the textbook and supplementary readers problem. After hearing all these statements I was impressed by the following facts:

the importance of the English language as a means of international communication. It is taught as a second language in the great majority of Asian countries.


the determination of newly independent countries to introduce their national language as the teaching medium in their schools (primary, secondary and university) as soon as they could and the textbook problem associated with this.


the stupendous problems in many Asian countries caused by (a) rapidly increasing populations (b) a great demand for more and more education and (c) lack of adequate funds. In

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The Japanese delegate, Mr I. Utsumi, talking to children in the model flat, Whakarewarewa Maori School. (N.P.S. PHOTOGRAPH).

South Korea there is a primary school with a roll of 8,000 pupils, which are handled in three shifts.

There was tremedous interest on the part of overseas delegates, in our Maori people. They wanted to know something about our language, what it sounded like and so-on. At the Ngati Poneke concert there was great disappointment when one of our elders who stood up to greet the delegates in Maori, suddenly switched to English and incidentally embarrassed his interpreter, who was just getting into his stride. They saw something of our art and craft at the Rangiatea Church and at Otaki's well-carved house. The songs and dances they saw at performances by the Maori Club at Wellington Teachers' College and by Ngati Poneke who put on a very good show indeed.

Some delegates, through their reading, had got the impression that we wear cloaks and piupiu all the time. After being a week in our country the Singapore delegate complained that he had not seen a single Maori since his arrival. I said to him, “You're talking to one.”

“You!” he said, “Oh no, you're not a Maori. You don't look like one.’

“A Maori could look just like you,” I told him.

“Like me?” he said, “Oh no!”

It was explained to him that all he had to do was to stand at the entrance of the Midland Hotel, where the delegates were quartered, and he would see scores of Maoris mingled with the street crowds. But he hadn't seen any because he was expecting to see us clad in our ceremonial dress! And it was because of this very thing, a false idea of a country, given by textbooks, that the seminar was being held.

The Nepalese delegate, who looked very much like a Maori, was greatly excited over the third embryonic eye of our ancient reptile, the tuatara. He thought there might be some connection with the Third Eye Cult in his country. This man has been trying to solve the riddle of strange unknown words appearing in ancient inscriptions recently unearthed in his country.

After many discussions with the Indonesian delegate we both came to the conclusion that our two peoples must have been very closely associated in the dim past. There were far too many common words in our languages to be mere coincidence. Many of our numbers are the same as well as many other words. When he heard the Training College Maori Club performing action songs he said that if he closed his eyes he could well imagine that he was home in Indonesia, so familiar were the sounds.

Some disappointment was felt by several delegates over the fact that we, the Maori people, had allowed the loss of so much of our culture and had neglected our language until it reached the present stage of threatened extinction. Our efforts to date in introducing the Maori language into our schools seemed inadequate and ineffectual.

– 53 –

Our “hit-or-miss” and “do-it-if-you-can” methods of teaching Maori culture in our schools also came under fire. In all they were not at all impressed with what we are doing in this country for the education of Maori children, on the traditional aspects of our culture, nor on the wider scale, of teaching the above to all New Zealand as part of New Zealand culture.

What the conference etched into the minds of all was that every country had problems of education and that each was trying hard to solve them. Many practical conclusions were reached and definite proposals were made between several countries on the exchange of books, films, etc. Not least of the outcomes and results of the seminar was the making of friends on an international level. I have many friends now who are spread over a wide expanse of the world, and who have widened my own personal world over a broader horizon.

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An. action song for the visitors; Whakarewarewa Maori School. (N.P.S. PHOTOGRAPH).

– 54 –



A Treasury of New Zealand Bird Song. Kenneth and Jean Bigwood (Kiwi EC14–15–16) Reeds, Wellington. Album of 3 E.P. 7-inch plus 40-page booklet. 45s.

In recent years, our poor radio programmes plus continuous commercials have caused many listeners to form their own record libraries. This unique set of the songs of New Zealand birds, recorded in their bush setting and combined with background noises of rivers and waterfalls, brings the romance of the outdoors and the voices of “the children of Tane” to your home.

Working as a husband and wife team, Kenneth and Jean Bigwood, who are trained photographers and recording specialists, have after years of skilled and patient work, built up a remarkable

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Kenneth and Jean Bigwood “shoot” a bird in the New Zealand bush. While Jean operates the tape recorder, Kenneth trains the microphone, set in the centre of the parabolic reflector, upon the singing bird. This husband and wife team have, after years of skilled and patient work, built up a remarkable library of bird songs and also of photographs of the birds themselves.

collection of bird songs and also photographs of the birds themselves. By the use of a microphone set in the centre of a parabolic reflector Kenneth Bigwood is able to record from a distance the singing bird, while his wife Jean operates the tape recorder. The thirty birds recorded in the album include such rarities as the strident whistle of the Kiwi, the musical horn-like notes of the Takahe, and most odd of all, the peculiar bubblings and whistlings of the Blue Duck. Many of these birds have been recorded for the first time, and the unsusual items lend variety to the melodious singing of Tuis, Bellbirds and other types.

Accompanying the set of three records is a well produced 40-page booklet by Gordon R. Williams, containing pictures of all the birds on the records, most of which were taken by Kenneth Bigwood. With its popular appeal and educational value, this remarkable set should prove of great value for use in schools, as few children will have had the opportunity of hearing our fast vanishing birds in their natural surroundings.


– 55 –



The shortest day is now passed, and this next period will undoubtedly be the busiest one for the New Zealand dairy farmer. The cows will all be having their calves, and they will need extra special care during this period. The results of this work will be reflected in the butter-fat production for the coming season.

It is imperative that dairy cows should be well fed for six to eight weeks after calving. They should have easy access to good hay at all times, and if the pasture is poor they should each receive up to 20–25 lbs of silage per day. Early calving cows should be given about 2 hours grazing per day on the autumn saved pasture, and in addition, should be fed as much silage as they will eat.

A dairy cow is an animal of habit, so at the start of each new season they should be trained to let down their milk quickly by the establishment of a fixed milking routine. They should be brought into the shed quietly, udders washed and milked in the same way at each milking. Every endeavour should be made to avoid any unusual treatment which may upset them in any way at all. Cows can be trained to stand without the use of back chains or let ropes, and they appear to give their milk down more freely without these encumbrances.

Prior to putting the teat-cups on the cows, udders should be washed vigourously and a squirt of milk taken from each teat. This is done for two reasons, firstly to ensure a free passage for the milk, and secondly, to assist in detecting cases of mastitis. A good milk flow has almost stopped, the teat-cups should be pulled down gently to take any milk that remains in the teats, and then the cups can be removed without splashing milk all over the floor of the cowshed.

During the early part of the season, dairy cows will be subjected to many ailments. Warmth is always of great assistance to sick animals, so all wise farmers should keep a number of cow covers in a handy place for use when and if they are required. Ordinary ailments such as bloat, milk fever, and grass-staggers are easily detected, and animals can be treated for these complaints quite simply, but when in doubt, a farmer should always seek the advice and help from his local Veterinarian. Common molasses has a medicinal value to all animals and especially to newly calved cows. Its cheapness brings it within the reach of all farmers, and it is a good idea to have a small trough filled with molasses placed in some easy accessible position where cows can help themselves whenever they feel inclined to do so.


If crutching has not been completed by now, no time should be lost in having this work done as the ewes will now be getting very heavy in lamb and should be yarded and handled as little as possible.

Ewes should be watched closely during the next few weeks, and they should have access to reasonable good feed. Ewes, if done too hard, will not lamb well and many will be subjected to sleeping sickness or twin lamb disease.

As the ewes start to lamb and a clear paddock is available adjacent, it is a good plan to draft all the twin lamb ewes into this paddock. This is done for two reasons, firstly to give the ewe better pasture to enable her to make more milk, and secondly, to enable the shepherd to mother up stray lambs. If he finds a lamb without a mother he only has to look for a ewe with one lamb and the job is usually finished.

There are several ways of making a ewe whose lamb had died take on a foster lamb. One of the most effective methods in the writer's opinion, is by skinning the dead lamb and placing the skin over the spare lamb (which was a mis-mothered lamb or one of twins or triplets). The ewe recognizes her own lamb by smell and the smell of the skin of her own lamb on the foster lamb is usually sufficient to make her take the foster lamb without any trouble. Care must be taken however, to remove the skin as soon as the ewe has completely accepted the lamb as her own.

Maori School committees in Northland are to form their own Northland Maori School Committee's Association. The decision follows three months of discussion. It was generally felt that a separate association of Maori school committees would be assured of a warm welcome. The new association hopes to work closely with the existing Northland Association of School Committees when matters of common interest or policy are under consideration, but intends to maintain its identity when the study of problems peculiar to Maori education may be undertaken.

– 56 –



During the winter months when plant life is resting, the wise gardener plans future activities in the Home Garden, pending the arrival of spring growth and the busy time of the year, when according to weather conditions planting and other necessary work must be accomplished. Maintenance and harvesting of autumn planted crops such as Brassica types, must be attended to, and all vacant areas dug over and allowed to fallow until spring planting takes place. Always remember to rotate the crops. For instance where cabbage, cauliflower and lettuce (Brassica) have been removed, replant the area with such crops as carrots, parsnip or potatoes. Always order seed supplies of potatoes early. Firstly to permit of greening and to allow the tubers to develop strong hardy shoots. Purchase Government certified seed for preference as today virus disease is very prevalent and is often the cause of failure with this crop.

It has been noted over the past year or two that in many instances, Maori Home Gardeners tend to leave spring planting of their vegetable gardens until fairly late in the season. According to the district and where soil is of a light nature crop failures very often eventuates owing to dry conditions being experienced early in the summer months.

Crop rotation in relation to the production of a specific type of vegetable can be explained by the fact that a member of one particular vegetable family is not planted in the same plot year after year. Plants such as carrots, parsnip, etc., live on certain plant foods which they acquire from various levels of the soil structure and they are at times subject to different types of disease, therefore if we planted a potato crop immediately after harvesting tomatoes and the fungus disease which attacks the tomato plant was present it would be transmitted to the potato crop owing to the spores being present in the soil, but if cabbages, beans and peas were grown such diseases could not survive. Leguminous crops such as peas and beans always take nitrogen from the air and transmit same to the soil when dug under, while root crops always have the tendency to break up and loosen the sub-soil.

It must also be emphasised that a complete fertiliser applied to the garden is always beneficial. It has been the writer's experience on numerous occasions to find that the Home Gardener is always confident if he makes a dressing of perhaps Blood and Bone, or Super Phophate, forgetting possibly one of the most essential elements, Potash. Under various trade names complete fertilisers containing Nitrogen, Phosphates and Potash are prepared for the home gardener's convenience.


If only to provide fresh fruit, every garden should make provision for fruit trees. There is also the ornamental character of many varieties which adds to the attractiveness of home surrounds. Where areas are restricted apple trees grafted on the east malling stock and known as the dwarf variety can appear most attractive if properly spaced on a back lawn. There is also the espalium system, where by the apple tree is trained on a rather low fence line. Fruit trees are best planted where they will get the maximum sun light. It is essential that protection be afforded where prevailing winds are from the southerly or westerly quarter.


At this time of the year, due mainly to cold and rather wet conditions, little can be done in respect to the sowing of flower seeds. However, if glass frames are available small sowings of pansies, petunias, verbenas and lobelia can be made. These plants can be set out later in the spring and should make an early summer display. This is also the planting time for roses, shrubs, and ornamental trees. Do not forget to stake your roses and ornamentals especially if they are at all exposed.

Richard Stewart, of Mangakino, who has served this year as Editor of Ke Alaki, the student newspaper of the Church College of Hawaii, attended an emergency conference of the United States National Student Association as the official delegate from Hawaii. This conference, which was held in Washington, called together representatives from every state in the U.S.A. to consider emergency measures to be taken in aiding southern negro students in their battle to prevent segregation in southern institutions of higher learning. Richard Stewart is a graduate of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saint at Hamilton. This is his first year at the Church College of Hawaii.

– 57 –


The Editor, Te Ao Hou.

Sir,—Your issue of December 1959, No. 29, p.30, reads: “Another ancestor was the whale Pokopoko. He was the youngest of three brothers. The two older ones drove him away from Hokianga Harbour, which used to be their habitat, etc., etc.”

Where did you gather this confounded information and who was your informant? Why did you fail in the matter of exercising caution? You have printed rubbish, and your failure to exercise caution in this respect has created in me the impression that any old thing will do as long as it amuses your readers. I strongly oppose this cheap exploitation of an ancestor from which I and many others are proud descendants.

Pokopoko-here-here-taniwha (literal translation: pokopoko, name of person; here-here, tie together; taniwha, Maori name for monster beyond human understanding). Pokopoko the conqueror of taniwhas won his name after the battle of the taniwhas which took place at Shelly Beach in the Kaipara Harbour near Helensville. He was the younger son of Haki-puta-tomuri, translated as “the one who appeared last.” His one and only brother was named Whiti-rau-atea: the music of white leaves.

Pokopoko conquered all but two of the taniwhas at this battle, and as a memorial to this occasion, and in conjunction with the first so-called Parliament in my district, the people of Ngatiwhatua, encouraged by the unanimous support of the many neighbouring tribes, erected a memorial on the scene. Had it not been for the action of vandals, the memorial would have remained where it was erected, but some of my people moved the historic memorial to a place where it would fare better. This action, though done in loyalty and within the realm of good intention, has lost for the memorial, much of its historical glamour.

The two taniwhas which made their escape were overtaken at the entrance to the Hokianga Harbour. A great battle took place and again Pokopoko succeeded by changing his opponents to rocks. Hence the two rocks which stand at the entrance to Hokianga Harbour. Their names are Arai-te-uru and Te Niniwa. The subduing of these two taniwhas, according to the story-tellers, caused the ever-groaning tides of Taiamai (Hokianga), hence the saying “I ngururu ai nga tai o tai-a-mai.”

This story is accepted truth and recited by many chiefs of the past days. It is their story which has been handed down to me, that I am privileged to retain.

Your whale of Te Ao Hou fame, is one of three which travel together. They never travel separately, even to this day. Very few are privileged to see them; one reason being that many of us have left the seaside to pursue other interests, and as they appear only when a chief of high rank is on the borderline between mortality and immortality, their visits have become very rare. The rarity of the visits of these monsters is not due to the advent of the Ratana movement (because Ratana was not able to do anything about their extermination), but because of the simple fact that there are no chiefs left. They might appear, of course, when the writer makes his exit. So keep a watch, and you will have something to write about.

The three whales are the acknowledged “Mana” of the Te-Uri-o-Hau tribe. My grandfather, Pita Whaka-pae-ngarara, alias Peter Kena, was their acknowledged chief. One, though named, is not connected with the hero, except in Mana, and neither is there any link between hero, whales and your Te Ao Hou story.

Pokopoko-here-here-taniwha died of natural causes and by his own wish, was given sea-burial at the entrance of Kaipara Harbour. Thus, when the Kaipara Harbour becomes very rough and sea-farers are bar-bound, our people would say: “The wrath of Pokopoko is kindled.” When it is calm and smooth, they would say: “Pokopoko is happy.”

We, the Maori people, are a proud race. We love to preserve our genealogy and all that is good about our traditions and customs. We cherish a descent from a hero ancestor. One who was the hero of successful conquests whether they won through fair means or foul, it mattered little. Their employment of wit or might to crown a success are cherished endearments and are counted good for the soul. If any should dare to storm the palisade of their peaceful paradise with the wrong pass-word, “look out!” So get your facts correct and avoid trouble.

APERAHAMA B. KENA, The Parsonage, Otaki.

Note. While the informant is a person of reasonable knowledge, we recognise that she did not give us the whole story. When Te Ao Hou publishes a version of ancient Maori history, it is always realised that there will be other, often very valuable versions it has been impossible to obtain. It is therefore good to see, writers coming forward to complete or dispute the information we have given so that we may get the whole of the truth in the end. Editor, Te Ao Hou.

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Whatarangi Winiata, B.Com. (PHOTO EARLE ANDREW).

Rotary Foundation Fellow and Ngarimu V.C. Post-Graduate Scholar

Whatarangi Winiata of Wellington, who in 1957 became the second Maori to graduate from the University of New Zealand with the degree of Bachelor of Commerce, has been awarded a Rotary Foundation Fellowship for the 1960–61 academic year which will take him to the School of Business Administration at the University of Michigan, America.

The significant aim of the fellowship is the fostering of international understanding, for which there will be ample scope at the University of Michigan which has 26,000 students, several thousand of whom are from countries outside the United States of America. This highlights the distinction which Mr Winiata can claim as the first Maori to have ever received this award.

Whilst in America, Mr Winiata will be required to visit the homes of American rotarians, and to address Rotary Clubs wherever possible. He has also been similarly engaged here in New Zealand and will continue to be so until his departure [ unclear: ] n August of this year.

In addition to the Rotary Foundation Fellowship, Whatarangi Winiata has been awarded a post-graduate scholarship by the Ngarimu V.C. Scholarship Fund Board, with which he proposes to continue his studies in America for the 1961–62 and 1962–63 academic years in order to study for his Doctorate of Philosophy in business administration.

On completing his degree in 1957, Mr Winiata was invited by a Wellington firm of accountants to join their partnership when it was thought that he was perhaps the youngest Public Accountant in New Zealand. In the same year he was elected to the Committee of the Wellington Accountant Students' Society, which has a membership of 600, and in 1959 was elected President of the Society. An executive member of the Wellington Branch of the N.Z. Society of Accountants, Whatarangi is also the Auditor for the Maori Women's Welfare League's Dominion Executive. In 1959, Mr Winiata was assistant marker in Cost Accounting for the Bachelor of Commerce degree examinations.

A keen footballer, Whatarangi is a Senior Wellington representative player and a member of the Senior Rugby team of Victoria University. In 1957 he won a Victoria University Rugby blue and has repeated this performance each year since when he has also won a Rugby blue of the N.Z. Universities. Although his main sport of recent years has been football, Whatarangi was successful in winning championship events in athletics whilst attending the Horowhenua College, where he was also Senior tennis champion and held a Horowhenua College Cap in cricket.

Whatarangi's leadership qualities became evident whilst he attended Horowhenua College when he was elected House Captain, College Prefect and Company Sergeant Major; in 1956 he was Top Cadet at the General Service Instructors' Course conducted at Wigram under the Compulsory Military Training scheme. In 1959 he was selected by the National Council of Adult Education to attend the Conference of Young Maori leaders held at Auckland University.

Whatarangi has been an active organiser among

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Maori University students and has helped to arrange National Conferences so that Maori students from all over the Dominion could meet and discuss matters of interest. He is the President of the Victoria University of Wellington Maori Club.

It must be a source of pride to Whatarangi's parents, Mr and Mrs Tamihana Winiata, of Otaki, and to the elders of the Ngati Raukawa tribe that, whilst he has achieved so much in the world of western culture, he has steadfastly retained and increased his connections and interests in Maori organisations and Maori affairs. It is well-known among his friends and associates that Whatarangi is proud of his Maori ancestry and is always ready to acknowledge it. In Maori cultural groups and church, youth and tribal committee activities, he has contributed well and has become thoroughly well-liked by young and old alike. When he leaves for America there will be a host of well-wishers, both Maori and Pakeha, to wish him every success.

Whatarangi Winiata will be an ambassador of the Maori people and of New Zealand of whom any fellow-citizen can feel proud.

Tena koe e whai nei i nga taumata o te matauranga; nou te kaha me te toa mo enei honore kua whakairia nei ki runga i a koe me to iwi Maori. (Translation: Greetings to you in your strivings for the heights of learning; by your determination and courage you have been awarded honours which your Maori people share with you.)

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(All answers are Maori words)


1. A; A certain one.
7. Story; talk.
12. Legend
13. Dirt, mud.
14. Remember
15. Current; He, She.
16. Beget
17. Wise man; Wizard.
18. Stick in; Adorn by sticking in feathers.
21. Where
23. Forehead
24. North; Dry, dried up.
27. Quietly; deliberately; carefully.
29. Yes; Of him; Of his.
30. Avenged
31. Loaded, manned (a canoe).
33. Although
35. Bark; I, me.
36. Four.
37. Putrid; Thin.
38. Leave off raining.
40. Descend; Migrate.
41. Arrive; Reach.
42. Hang; Be suspended.
45. Alight; Anchor; Your.
46. Rain
47. King of flute blown by Tutanekai.

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Solution to Crossword Puzzle No. 29


2. Throw; cast; thunderbolt.
3. Be waited for.
4. Soon; presently.
5. To fish.
6. Nine.
7. Seek; look for.
8. Unripe; uncooked.
9. Mark to warn against tapu.
10. Those
11. Be in difficulty; perplexed
13. Wild duck.
16. Leap
18. Young man.
19. Obstacle; curtain; screen.
20. Like that.
22. Call out to Ru.
25. Angel
26. Carry off by force.
27. All N.Z. children should learn—
28. Jaw; jawbone.
30. Ascend
32. Belonging to.
34. World
36. Throw
39. Shape; Appearance
43. Stand
44. Night
45. Drag; haul; set (of the sun).

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* Karapiti is the name of a large steam-hole in the Taupo country; it is visible from a great distance, and is constantly belching forth a great column of steam with a roaring noise.

Yon iris hues are glistening gay,

Flicker and flaunt on steam and spray—

A goodly canopy;

But scalding vapours are they that soar,

From the cruel mouth comes an angry roar,

And faintly there rises evermore

A wail of agony.

Karapiti's steam-cloud is shining fair,

Like wreath that the white girl loves to wear,

With folds of bridal veil;

While the nestling fern-fronds, half asleep,

Through the misty white of its vapours peep,

And nod to a maiden who comes to keep

Her tryst, and scorns to fail.

‘Tis a Maori maid, in her wistful eyes

Flashes a gleam of glad surprise—

No lover greets her sight.

The joy of triumph adorns her face,

For each has come from a distant place,

And she knows she has won in the loving race,

And she watches through the night.

For that maid had hastened with flying feet

Where her lover and she had planned to meet,

At Karapiti's bowl.

They both had vowed they would not be late,

Their hopes were high, and their love was great;

And the first to come, was to watch, and wait;

And she loves with all her soul.

But her mirth took flight, and her smile had gone,

When the morning light on that maiden shone,

And found her still alone;

She hid her face from the glare of day,

She crouched on the ground, in her Maori way,

And she crooned to herself an old-time lay,

In a low and mournful tone.

And when two more days of her watch had passed,

She had known no sleep, nor broken fast,

Her heart was seared with pain;

And her song was an ancient savage dream,

With lust and hate for its bloody theme,

That she sang to the rush of the roaring steam,

With a wild and sad refrain.

The fourth day finds her spent and ill,

But crouched by Karapiti still,

Drenched with its driven foam;

Then her kinsmen come from her tribal place,

And swear she has won them deep disgrace—

A stain on their ancient haughty race;

And bid her hasten home.

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But she only peers through the fringe of fern

At the depths where those secret fires do burn,

Whence their deadly breath is poured;

And her chief cries, “Foolish daughter, go!

“Would you wait on the son of our former foe?

“Whom we conquered in battle long ago,

“With all his rabble horde!

“‘Tis little you reck of that trysting-place

“Where he never lags in the loving race,

“Nor plays a backward part.

“Is it meet or right for a maid well-born

“To leave her tribe, and to grieve forlorn,

“For a coward slave who has falsely sworn?”—

And he racks that maiden's heart.

She springs to her feet, alert, upright,

Her eyes flash the sudden signal light

Of proud blood rudely stirred.

She calls aloud to her kinsmen all,

And they start, amazed at her sudden call;

You could hear a footstep's lightest fall;

They hang on her ev'ry word.

“If my lover be false, or my lover true,

“May the gods be witness between us two,

“I have kept the tryst I swore.

“I'll keep the compact between us both,

“For the sake of my love and my plighted troth,

“Though he keep me waiting, I take my oath,

“A hundred years or more!”

She leaps, with one despairing scream,

Like spear-shaft piercing the scalding steam;

Its clouds one moment part;

That hell-hole gorges its dainty prey,

Then shrouds in a column of boiling spray

A woman who dared to be true alway,

So fond so brave her heart.

Still is the steam-cloud shining fair,

‘Tis a white pall, hanging ever there,

O'er a tomb that none may see.

But the drooping fern-fronds are no more glad;

Karapiti's moan is a tangi sad,

And a warning voice to the Maori lad

Who false to his tryst would be.


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Fourteen unior field supervisors attended a short course in Hamilton last month under the auspices of the Maori Affairs Department. The course was aimed at helping the supervisors, both Maori and European to assist Maori farmers in their areas. From districts scattered all over the North Island, the supervisors were experienced in dairy, sheep and cattle farming; each man had the responsibility of aiding in the administration of up to 60 farms occupied by Maoris in his respective area. Each man was a graduate of Lincoln College.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Waimamauku School, near the northern boundary of Waipoua Forest, held its 75th anniversary celebration on March 26th. The school has one teacher and 28 pupils. It was opened on January 23rd, 1885. Its first committee gave the school a good start by imposing a fine on all parents whose children failed to attend. The school's name has been translated as “the waters of the tree farm”, a reference to the river which flows beside the school and has its source in an area of ferns in the nearby forest.

The first volume in a new series of bulletins in Maori for post-primary schools has been issued by the publications branch of the Department of Education. It is “Ko te tahae nei ko Tawhkai!”—“That rascal Tawhkai”, and contains five stories of a young Maori boy today. They are written by Mr S. M. Mead, headmaster of Waimarama Maori School in Hawke's Bay, and illustrated by pen and ink drawings by Mr W. Jones, of Auckland. Commenting on the publication, the Minister of Education, Mr P. O. S. Skoglund, said that “everyone interested in the teaching of Maori will welcome this imaginative way of stimulating interest in the use of the language as a literary medium. Over the last hundred years, a great deal has been published in Maori in New Zealand, but it has had a limited circulation, and certainly was not written for postprimary pupils. This is the first time the school publications branch of the department has issued a publication in Maori.

“The general title of the series,” continued Mr Skoglund, “is ‘Te Whare Kura’, the old Maori college of learning, the name and functions of which have been transferred to the schools of today. The second volume, ‘He Pakiwaitara’ (folk lore) will contain a number of traditional stories collected by Mr John Waititi and Dr Bruce Biggs and illustrated by Miss Evelyn Clouston. It will be issued later this year.”

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PUHIWAHINE Continued from page 20.

ka noho au ka tangi,
Ka tu au ka titiro
Ki te ao rere mai
I aku matua.
He ahatanga atu
Naaku ki a koe
I rere mai ai
Te mataa rere-puku?
He kai te whenua
Te pau i a koe;
Ngau atu ra koe
Ki te puke i Tararua;
Kia ngata ai hoki to puku,
Kia ora ai hoki koe!

I sit down and weep,
I stand up and look
At the cloud floating hither
From (the abode of) my elders,
What was the offence
That I inflicted upon you
Which has caused the thrust
Of the silent spear point?
Land is the food
Not yet consumed by you;
Let yourself take a bite
At the peak of Tararua;
Have then your fill,
And thus be satisfied!

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Puhiwahine's songs as recorded in this story of her life comprise all the songs she composed so far as we have been able to trace. With the exception of the song “Ka eke ki Wairaka,” which appears as Song 46 in Sir Apirana Ngata's Nga Moteatea Part 1, these songs have not previously been published.

In discussing Puhiwahine's poems in general we would describe her compositions as being in the traditional and classical Maori forms. That is to say there are no European features introduced in the airs or tunes, in the versification or in the arrangement of the songs. The long action song in Chapter 5 is unique in respect of the naive manner in which the poetess has catalogued her love affairs; and unlike Topeora, Te Rauparaha's niece, and other poetesses who were contemporaries but of an older generation, Puhiwahine has avoided the use of pungent erotic terms and refrained from any direct references to physical love. This was no doubt due to the influence of Christian teachings on Puhiwahine. There is an example of this in the first verse of her Song of War in Chapter 5. Puhiwahine belonged to the Roman Catholic faith.

Puhiwahine's oriori or lullaby in Chapter 7 is also a unique composition, not only because in it she anticipated the birth of her grandchildren, but also of certain features in the theme of the song. The lullabies of our race usually have as their theme the ancient myths and traditions, the tribal battles, and other historical incidents—all linked together with the names of famous ancestors. Puhiwahine's lullaby has made a feature of:

—a royal and “worthy trophy”, which was a greenstone brooch presented by the Duke of Edinburgh (Te Tiuka o lenepara); her grandchildren, described by her as Koata kaihe (quarter-castes); and her reference to the Pakeha “who has overrun and lost us this land.” These references would indicate that Puhiwahine, in common with others of that time, had become reconciled to a pattern of life in which the Maori would play the lesser part.

Puhiwahine's compositions show that she was well-versed in the history of her tribes and had a good knowledge of genealogies. She also had a good knowledge of tribal land affairs; took an intelligent interest in what was taking place in the alienation of the lands of her people, and felt that she should warn them against the “ways of the Governor”, and the “lure of rent”. (A Song About Land Affairs). One could say, too, that in her poems Puhiwahine was influenced by her life among Europeans to the extent of using English words in maorified form, and in the narrative arrangement of two of her songs—Action Song in Chapter 3, and The Song of a Coquette in Chapter 5—she has adopted a mode of expression similar to European realistic writing.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

The popularity of the song “Ka eke ki Wairaka”, of which mention has already been made, can be attributed to the tender mood evoked by the words, “slave heart mine not to seek a lingering farewell; with two nights more in close embrace;” words which have the same appeal as “Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never bro't to mind?” Puhiwahine also infused a subtle and captivating touch of intimacy to this song by introducing two English words in maorified form:—tiapu (jumps), which has been translated as “leaps” in the second line; and the word pea for pair. In both cases euphonic considerations are in favour of the maorified forms used by the poetess, as may be noted if the equivalent words; mokowhiti or tupeke were used in the first instance, and the word tauriterite in the second case.

(to be continued)

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Protect Native Birds

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The kaka, like the pigeon, is a native bird that has been seriously affected by the settlement of New Zealand. Once common throughout the country it is now confined to the remaining large areas of native bush.

In early days the kaka was an important article of food and its red feathers were valued for making cloaks. Nowadays it is no longer necessary to kill the kaka, we must cherish it for the part it has played in the history of our country and for its usefulness in pollinating trees and destroying harmful insects.

The law protects the kaka and other native birds for our common good.

A fine of £50, a further £2 for every bird killed and the loss of a valued gun are penalties that await those who kill kakas.