MR WAINGANGI HANITA

The death occurred at Masterton Hospital recently of Mr Waingarangi Hanita (Wae Hunter), a well-known former resident of Takapau. Born at Taipairu Pa, Waipawa, 63 years ago, he attended the Waipawa and Porangahau Schools. Later, he worked around Takapau, leaving there to serve overseas in the First World War. About two years after his return from overseas, he married Miss Tapi Karaitiana and their family consists of Waingarangi (Takapau), Pone (Mrs Morris, Waipukurau), Taki (Mrs H. Snee, Takapau), Mary and Ross. Mr Hanita was one of the best shearers in the Takapau District for many years, and his kindly and jovial manner won him many friends.

MRS RANGIORA NGAMATU

The death of Mrs Rangiora Ngamatu occurred at the Rotorua Hospital recently at the age of 71. Her father, the late William Henry Bird, was the first white settler of the Murupara-Galatea district. He settled there some years before the Tarawera eruption of 1886. Her mother was Kiekie Peita, the granddaughter of Peraniko Tahawai, the renowned leader of the Ngati-Manawa tribe which joined forces with the Royal troops under Captain Gilbert Mair against the Hau Hau uprising of the Te Kooti era. Before her health declined, Mrs Ngamatu was very prominent in the general welfare and social activities of her people. She took a leading part in all functions and to the time of her death, retained the respect and high esteem of both Maori and Pakeha. She is survived by her husband, Mr Waihaki Ngamatu, of Taupo, a chief of the Ngati Tuwharetoa tribe.

MR J. (PLUM) WAIARIKI

The death of the New Zealand Maori wing-three-quarter, Mr J. (Plum) Waiariki occurred recently at Auckland. Mr Waiariki was a member of the Ngati Porou tribe. He played for New Zealand Maoris against the British Lions last year and was selected for the Maori team to tour Tonga and Samoa last year, but was forced to withdraw after suffering a fractured jaw.

MR ATHOL ALBERT (TIPI) LOVE

The death occurred early this year in the Hutt Hospital of Mr Athol Albert (Tipi) Love, of Pelone, the result of accident. Mr Love was born at Waikawa 57 years ago, and was the son of the late Kua and Mary Taha Love. He was a most accomplished entertainer in the Petone district, and as a sportsman, played Rugby Union and League, swam competitively, played cricket and was associated with the Ford's and Moera softball clubs, he played table tennis and was in later years an excellent darts player. A large tangi was held at Te Tatau o Te Po meeting-house, Lower Hutt. The house was packed for the funeral service, and there was an overflow crowd of about 200. Among those present were the Rt. Hon. Walter Nash, M.P. for the Hutt, Mr I. P. Puketapu, and leading representatives of the Maori race.

MR JOSEPH (SONNY) SMITH

Joseph Sonny Smith, aged 48, has died suddenly at his home in Opotiki. Although Mr Smith came from Ruatoria, where his mother was from the Ngati-Porou tribe and his father of Gisborne, he was accepted as one of themselves by the Whakatohea tribe, into which he married. Educated at Te Aute College, he worked for several years in the Opotiki and Whakatane area on the land development schemes, and in 1950 joined the Department of Maori Affairs becoming Maori Welfare Officer in Opotiki. His work among the people of the district, young and old, was most extensive and they grew to rely on him in the conducting of their affairs. He was respected and popular among both the Maori and Pakeha community of Opotiki and even outside this district was well-known and liked by the Tuhoe people of the Ureweras. Mr Smith is survived by his wife and eight children.

MRS TARO TAPUA REWETI

Mrs Tari Tapua Reweti, better known as Mrs Lou Davis, died at her home, “Taumataokioki”, Whakapara, recently. She lived practically all her married life in Whakapara and took a great interest in all Maori activities. Her husband, Mr Lou Davis, is well-known as a magnificent worker for the Maori people and for youth in sport. Her granddaughter, Neti Davis, is the New Zealand women's table tennis champion and last April represented New Zealand in the world championships at Peking, China. (See Te Ao Hou, issue 32, p. 55.)

Mrs Davis was a descendant of the famous Maori chief, Tamati Waka Nene. Her parents were Mr and Mrs Hone Nehua, and the old homestead occupied by the Nehuas still stands opposite the Whakapara School. Mrs Davis was born in Whakapara and educated at the old Otonga School and at Hikurangi. She was a prominent member of the Maori Women's Welfare League and the Whakapara Women's Institute.

THE KAIKOHE SCHEME

Earlier This Year, Te Ao Hou attended a special meeting of the Citizens' Advice and Guidance Council in Kaikohe, with Mr J. K. Hunn, Secretary of Maori Affairs, Mr M. R. Jones, Private Secretary to the Minister of Maori Affairs, and Mr Melvin Taylor, Public Relations Officer to the Maori Affairs Department. Facing us, to give us an account of their work, were Dr M. N. Paewai, well-known in the North as a footballer of great attainments and as a physician, Mr G. Vuglar, a Registrar of the Social Security Department in Kaikohe, and Mr J. A. Gale, a master at Northland College.

Mr Vuglar was the spokesman. He read to us the aim of the Council, that “where desired, it would give advice and guidance on budgeting, living expenses out of the combined family income and to advise on other matters arising therefrom.” Their system works in this way. Two volunteer sponsors are appointed to give advice to each family. A bank account is opened in the name of husband and wife and both wages and family benefit are paid into it. One of the sponsors holds the cheque book, though cheques must be signed by both husband and wife. Each week, the man and wife and their sponsors discuss the allocation of income for housekeeping accounts, reduction of debts and accumulation of savings. The husband is allowed £1 per week spending money, and the wife, 10/-.

At the time of our meeting, the Society had 36 sponsors and 32 client families. Mr Vuglar made it clear to us there was no hint of racial patronage in the scheme: the sponsors are not all Pakehas, and the clients are not all Maoris. Participation is voluntary; the couples join of their own accord and may leave the scheme when they please. The sponsors meet their clients once a week, and the sponsors meet their Council Executive once a month.

EDUCATION IN HANDLING MONEY

Much effort is asked of the sponsors. Counsel on family finance cannot but draw a host of other matters into the area of scrutiny—health, education, building, law—and the Society is equipped with a panel of experts who can advise on matters outside the sponsors' competence.

Is the scheme working? Is it a success? Mr Vuglar read to us some typical case histories, which sounded like the “before” and “after” sections of some well-known advertisements. Before: squalor, penury and despair; after: confidence, security, hope. It seemed that an initial difficulty was discovered in the use of cheques, some families being very suspicious of them, connecting them with what they had read in the tabloid journals about cheques bouncing, and it seemed that in some of their minds, the cheque spelt disaster. The

sponsors quickly convinced them that all cheques don't bounce, and that even some quite respectable people make use of them, and that their money was safer that way.

Some of the case histories made sad hearing. We heard of one family constantly in financial difficulties. The husband had some land in the neighbourhood which he was selling piecemeal, in order to defray his debts. One Friday afternoon, £250 was paid into his Post Office account. His wife did not see him again until Sunday night when he returned home without a penny, and this had happened three times when the wife asked the Council to help. From these depths, the family has been raised to confidence and security by the work of the Council. Many others told of homes crippled by inordinate drinking: now, after some months of guidance, these families can face their lives ahead with confidence.

And the community? Do they welcome the Scheme? It seemed so, almost generally. Grocers, fruiterers, butchers, and other providers of food and goods, would obviously welcome a scheme which ensured prompt payments. The newspaper gave the scheme much editorial comment and favourable publicity; only the hotel proprietors viewed with a somewhat jaundiced eye a plan to limit their best customers to £1 per week. But generally, the whole of the business, professional and social community welcomed the scheme with the liveliest sympathy.

DEPARTMENT GIVES FULL SUPPORT

Mr Hunn's reaction was immediate. He welcomed the scheme, highly praised its practical idealism and offered the support of the Department of Maori Affairs, subject to his Minister's approval, to what he said would be known in future as “The Kaikohe Scheme” in honour of its first movers. The Minister of Maori Affairs, Mr Hanan, proved equally enthuiastic and a Press Statement was released at the beginning of March, endorsing the Kaikohe Scheme, recommending its adoption in other areas, and praising the whole conception as “a vital step to aid the Maori people to establish themselves in modern life.”

From such small and apparently insignificant beginnings a whole people may be transformed, as history has frequently shown. In our own context, the great value of this scheme, as Mr Hunn pointed out, is its voluntary and spontaneous character. It cannot be considered as a State handout, with the blessing of officialdom: this is a body of private citizens working for their community. To Maoris, the Pakeha may often seem grossly marterialistic, his first care and greatest energy devoted to feathering his own nest; to the Pakeha, the Maori can seem shiftless, feckless and improvident. That both pictures are partial and false, this fine Scheme demonstrates; in it, we have Maori and Pakeha working together for the benefit of the community as a whole.

ARRIVAL

It is a cruel reflection on the efforts of educationists that the part of the tour which impressed the children most deeply was the stay at Matakana Island, which was not directly linked with any school lessons.

All that had been planned were the sports competitions, the concert, and the free day. Of course we had also hoped that the children would discover something about the geography and economy of the island, but apart from general preliminary talks this “educational” aspect had been left mainly to chance, which is so often the best teacher.

As we arrived at Tauranga wharf early on Friday evening the children's excitement reached its height; staying with their friends of the previous year was obviously the crowning event of the tour. A cold wind was blowing as we puffed across the

harbour; most sat in the hold, while a few adventurous ones stood on the narrow deck watching the receding lights of the town.

When we arrived at the wharf, our hosts were waiting by their dark tractors and rough drays which form the only means of transport on the island. When our group saw the children of Matakana with their gumboots and country clothes, familiar faces, in front of an old wooden store— suggesting that this was again Maori country— they at once lost the circumspection and tension of the last few days; deft and relaxed, they moved among their new hosts, loaded their luggage and squeezed together on the tractors. Here they could move by themselves; they were no longer dependent for everything on their teachers.

The tractors slowly ground through the muddy tracks, front lights blazing. At first several followed each other; you could see the people in front holding tightly to dray or luggage, as the tractors, clogged with inches of mud, splashed into potholes or splurged out of them. Thus the dim outlines of school teachers and pupils were seen moving further and further away from the mainland, tossed about on a wet and roadless island, in search of knowledge. And strangely enough, a valuable, though unexpected, insight was waiting for them.

One by one the tractors turned off to other tracks leading to farms hidden behind the hills. One could see the toy lights shining over the mud high up in the distance.

OUR PLANNED ACTIVITIES

Football and basketball provided a full and exciting game; Matakana won the basketball, Punaruku the football. Socially, the heroes of the tour were beginning to emerge, and the chief of them was Wiri. Removed from the classroom with its abstruse demands, Wiri had all the advantages— the concert party depended on him, his boisterous humour and brawn singled him out as a redoubtable visitor. During the football match the opposing players were in dread of him, for he looked as though he would stop for nothing; as Punaruku's goal kicker, he proved to have a powerful and accurate boot which would not have been despised by far more experienced teams.

At the concert Matakana performed a number of accomplished action songs; in contrast to our own community, Maori dancing is a regular part of life on the island. Nevertheless our group shrived up very well; our action songs had now become quite vigorous, and acquired harmony and unison. Our real strength, however, still lay in the grotesque Hawaiian and troubadour numbers, which were received with roars of laughter, and the double poi dances of the two sisters, who this evening far surpassed anything they had done before. We also showed the folk dances, which proved very successful with a Maori public.

A LESSON IN ECONOMICS

The most important part of our stay at Matakana was the free day. This had originally been planned as a day of rest, so the children would be fresh when they reached Auckland. In fact, however, they stepped into the bus on Monday morning in a state of complete exhaustion; it took them two days to recover.

Had this day been just a riot of play and entertainment? It had been that, but it had also been a day of intensive, if almost uncontrolled, learning.

What was there to learn on Matakana Island? The people have farms, often rather large ones, on which there is good butterfat production, as well as a considerable acreage of maize and other crops. There are some good piggeries and poultry farms; winter feed is well provided for. To keep up this standard in the isolation of the island demands very hard work; people do work hard. There is a large pine forest which needs foresters, woodsmen, axemen, and mill workers. Many of the younger people who have no farms of their own are able to stay on the island and work in the forest.

All these things were shown to the young visitors; the islanders encouraged the children to learn as much as possible about Matakana; it was for learning, after all, that the tour had been arranged. They visited the mill, they rode over the hills and beaches, and, most important of all, the Punaruku children watched the way of life of the islanders.

In itself there is nothing exceptional about the Matakana economy but to our group it was a source of amazement. If they had stayed with city Europeans, in a still more modern environment, they would have been much less astonished, for

they could expect the clever pakeha to acquire everything, by means they could never imitate.

However, at Matakana the outward conditions are very similar to Punaruku. There is quite an area of good land in the Whangaruru district, both around Punaruku itself and on the peninsula. This land, if well handled, could maintain many cows, grow more corn, and provide most of the things that are seen on Matakana Island.

Yet Matakana is wealthy and Punaruku is poor. Why?

This was the overwhelming question that met the children on that free Sunday. They did not all put it entirely consciously as a question, but they lived this other economy for a day, and a month later they were still talking about the differences: the horses on which they rode about were much fatter and sturdier than those at home; there was no blackberry on the paddocks; the fences were tight, the maize did not have the beetle as it did at home; the young people leaving for town often actually came back afterwards to get married and to live on the island—a thing almost unknown at Punaruku.

Why all this difference? Of course there was no ready answer to this question; there was only enough time for the fact to become established and to gnaw its way into the mind.

But that was hard work, and on the trip from Tauranga to Auckland there was as much sleep as geography. At the proper time our group, impeccable in their red blazers and uniforms, presented themselves in the marble halls of the Auckland War Memorial Museum.

THE PRICE OF URBANISATION

Among our group there was one very simple boy, Morris, of high school age but unable to read. He has a sweet and charming nature; although he could not be expected to understand much of the goings on, he was enjoying himself immensely, and was a popular figure at Matakana Island, playing football well, singing a most amusing solo number, and riding about expertly on a fine horse.

Morris's shoes were far too small for him; the heels were almost worn away, and his feet were very painful.

While we were waiting for the Museum staff to meet us we noticed Morris had come in with bare feet, his first slip in etiquette since the beginning of the tour.

He was hastily sent back for the shoes but a little while later returned, still barefooted on the marble, and with a disarming grin—the bus had driven off, with his shoes on it.

THE MUSEUM

The two hours in the museum were far too short. It was here that so very many things we talked about at school could be actually seen; and seeing, for our pupils, is so terribly important, it is so very much the main method of communication. However, the education officer at the museum provided as many experiences as he could in those two short hours.

There was constant pressure to get the children to move from one showcase to the next. Wisely, our instructor told the children to put away their notebooks; otherwise we would never have finished our programme at all.

The children loved browsing through a room, noting objects of special significance to them, and asking questions. One of them discovered a piece of quartz containing gold; just the sort of quartz we had discussed when we passed the gold mine at Waihi. When we reached the Pacific section a pupil asked to be shown a breadfruit. Many congregated about anything connected with fish. The Maori collection, saved until the end of the visit, was studied with great interest. So was Rajah the elephant.

ACCOMMODATION AND MEALS

Our sleeping quarters were at Waipapa hostel. Many people, knowing the unpromising exterior, raised their eyebrows when they heard the address; however, the place is clean inside and very reasonably priced. Good sheets and pillows are provided. For any party not greater than 24 the hostel is very suitable, although one has to have meals and baths elsewhere; this, however, we found very easy to do. The advantage of Waipapa is that the whole party can stay together instead of being scattered through the city in billets. One gathers, in any case, that finding billets for Maori children is not easy in Auckland, although in Wellington and Christchurch, Maori schools have never found any difficulty.

Having settled in at Waipapa, we went to the Maori Community Centre for our evening meal. The centre is to be complimented on the excellent service it gives to school parties. Not only is the food very good and reasonable, but the hall, the musical instruments, the friendliness, all helped to make the centre a second home for the children and a most useful base. We spent every night from 5.30 to 7.30 at the centre.

We were visited there one night by Colonel Awatere, who is in charge of Maori welfare in Auckland. He told us about the activities of the Maori Community Centre and the services it gives to any of our pupils who might come to Auckland to live.

Each day 10 children were on kitchen and dining-room duty to help the cook at the centre. This, however, did not stop them from joining in all the excursions.

OUR PROGRAMME IN AUCKLAND

Our remaining programme in Auckland fell into three main sections:

1.	The industrial programme;
2.	The commercial practice programme;

3.	The cultural programme.

In addition we paid a quick visit to the zoo.

In the planning of the first two sections we received useful advice from the Auckland Public Relations Office. This office has a brief list of places it always recommends to wandering schools; on this list we found such establishments as the railway station, the post office, the Tip Top Ice Cream factory, and New Zealand Glass Manufacturers, all of which we visited. In addition, this office holds information on a large number of enterprises where visits are permitted.

For instance we wished to visit a clothing factory, preferably one employing Maori girls, so that our own girls could visualise the sort of vocation they might find in Auckland. The Public Relations Office was at once able from its records to name a clothing factory willing to receive school parties (the Cambridge Clothing Factory in Customs Street) and it was the same with all our inquiries.

As many establishments will not admit more than a specified number of children, it was necessary on three occasions to split the party into two sections; also, most firms will only accept parties on certain days or at certain hours, so that the whole tour timetable needs to be carefully planned. One factory we could not visit, because bookings are taken three months ahead.

THE FARMERS' TRADING COMPANY

Most valuable for our commercial practice students was the well conducted tour of the office of the Farmers' Trading Company. Here preliminary classroom work on the company and its office system would have been well worth while had we been able to get the necessary information in advance. The Farmers' have five types of accounts (cash, monthly, lay-by, time payment, and savings bank) and the system used for each type of trading is explained in full detail by a very competent officer. What impressed the children most was the microfilming of monthly statements—so many million statements in one small cupboard. Visitors are also shown the cycle billing system, the method of checking and analysing cash, the multigraph room, and the records system.

However, some teachers may find some difficulty in moving all of the young back-country visitors down the escalators, past six stories of sumptuous displays, into the open air.

THE CULTURAL PROGRAMME

The cultural part of our programme was the furthest removed from the past experience of the Punaruku children, and therefore the most challenging.

Our cultural programme was ambitious, from the viewpoint that the school tour would, for most of our children, provide the only opportunity for cultural experiences such as the Auckland Festival offers.

Furthermore it was hard to prepare the children fully for all the functions because the final festival timetable did not get printed until the very end of the first term, and the full programme, which provided essential background for teaching, came later still.

Here is the list of things we saw and heard: Stage Struck, one of the films shown by the Auckland Festival Society;

A chamber-music concert by the New Zealand Wind Quintet;

Brief visit to the Auckland Art Gallery;

The Waters of Kidron, a play by J. A. S. Coppard, produced for the Festival Society by John Thomson;

School Concert of the National Orchestra;

Madame Butterfly, presented by the New Zealand Opera Company;

Visit to an exhibition of paintings entitled “Life in New Zealand”, at the Society of Arts rooms.

In these arrangements we were given wonderful help by the Festival organisers, who also arranged concession prices.

Apart from Madame Butterfly, for which only 15 seats were booked, we took our whole group to all these occasions. Those who did not go to Madame Butterfly were taken to the Cinerama, a contrivance none of the children had seen before.

THE ART EXHIBITIONS

There was a wide divergence in the amount of advantage the pupils derived from the cultural functions. The paintings interested most of the children; art is an important subject on our school syllabus which children are encouraged to take for School Certificate. The children love illustrating poems, stories, or social studies notes; in any book they always study the illustrations most attentively. Furthermore, in the galleries they could walk around and go to what interested them; they did not have to sit still. We could profitably have spent more than the two half-hours we gave to looking at paintings. At the “Life in New Zealand” exhibition, William Jones, the Auckland artist, gave the children a short talk about the paintings shown.

BIBLICAL DRAMA

We found The Waters of Kidron to be a most suitable play. It was acted with professional skill. and in spite of its deficiencies, its religious theme was deeply significant to the children, partly because religion is the chief interest in the devoutly Mormon community and religious education is intensive.

It was interesting to find, however, that in spite of the many hours devoted to religious study, few of the children knew the story of Judas. The Headmaster told it to the pupils at the community centre just before the play started.

The chief action in the play was summarised with chilling exactitude in an essay by one of our fourth form pupils: “When Judas meets Anubis (a beautiful maiden devoted to the service of the Alexandrian Aphrodite) “he tells her he believes in one God only. Abubis tries to make him fall for her and think there are more Gods than one. Finally she succeeds. She then tries to find out how much money he has; in loving her so very much he becomes a traitor and helps to take Jesus away. When he returns he discovers that his so called sweetheart has gone to Rome with a soldier called Marcus. Knowing now that the money is of no more use to him, Judas goes mad and from that day to this many people say that Judas still roams the roads.”

Naturally, Coppard's over-simplification did not worry the children who loved to see the accomplished acting on the stage—Anubis, beautiful, deceptive, and evil; Judas, stupid, also bad, and finally punished; the High Priest, an even greater villain, and Marcus, just a happy-go-lucky fellow.

MUSICAL EDUCATION

The musical events were the greatest challenge because the children in our group are mostly by nature musical, but were quite unfamiliar with the type of music they heard at the festival. Not only that; the children are deeply influenced by jazz, rock-and-roll, and the spirit of youthful rebellion, the creed of which is centred in this music. Classical music is therefore apt to be listened to not with sympathy or even neutrality, but as the epitome of meaningless boredom: the “square” may be powerful—one has to live with him—but as music is the world of pleasure, he should be kept out of it.

Educators cannot help but clash with this confined world of pleasure. If they left it to evolve freely, it would be necessary to remove most school subjects from the syllabus. In music, as in other subjects, educators wish to widen the children's experience and to enable them to respond to music in more varied manifestations.

Our starting point was a lecture given at the Adult Education Centre by Mr Ronald Barker. The theme is his talk was “I am a square and I am proud of it”: he discussed the music we were to hear at the festival. It was followed immediately by the Wind Quintet. The programme contained quite a solid work by Hinemith and was perhaps in parts too difficult as an introduction. The environment was a hall in the Art Gallery, with good modern paintings: the public at this luncheon concert consisted mainly of musical connoisseurs and the atmosphere was far more intimate than at the usual evening concert. We found later that the concert made quite an impression on a number of the children—Wiri was the only militant objector. Morris liked the concert far too well, applauded like a cannon, and had to be stopped from tapping his feet to the music.

The school concert of the National Orchestra was, of course, far easier to understand. Again the reactions were mixed; the experience certainly did not stimulate any increased interest in the remaining musical event, Madame Butterfly, that same evening. The 15 seats we had were occupied with considerable reluctance and even feelings of envy towards those who had made the Cinerama.

When Morris found he was the only boy volunteer he hastily withdrew; our final party consisted entirely of girls. There was nothing doubtful about their reaction. They were deeply moved by the beauty and pathos of the whole performance; they felt sorry for the others who had not been there.

Since our return we have played to the children a recording called “The Adventures of Piccolo, Saxie and Company”, an amusing symphonic piece during which Victor Borge introduces, in story form, the instruments of a symphony orchestra. Before the tour this piece would hardly have been understood, but now the children were delighted by it; the instruments mean something to them now, and so does symphonic music. The experience laid a foundation for the appreciation of the mainstream of European music.

WE ALL BECOME LIKE LITTLE INSECTS

The tour had its Haroun al Raschid. When we were looking over the TEAL factory at Mechanics Bay, and admiring the delicate instruments with

which aeroplane parts are tested and repaired, an Auckland businessman, Mr F. Pidgeon, saw the bright red uniforms and heard of their remote and unusual origin.

He asked the head teacher: “Would your children like a ride on the plane?” He put what seemed to us quite a large sum of money on the counter and five boys, chosen by lot, went up the little Tourist Air Transport amphibian plane for a scenic tour over Auckland harbour.

Fortune was most perceptive in its choice. Among the five were three of our best boys and also the heroes of the tour. Wiri and Morris. The latter was in convulsions of excitement when the plane took off. The boys saw the whole of Auckland below them and our party became like little insects. Oddly enough, most of the children had seen the plane before as it often flies over Punaruku to the Bay of Islands.

THE FIRST OF TWO ARTICLES

by KORE WHENUA

In the previous issues of Te Ao Hou articles have appeared on the improvement of Maori land titles. The series has set out the various steps being taken in the attempt to prevent the rapidly deteriorating position that the titles of Maori lands were heading for.

This article is intended to show briefly the position which title improvement has reached during the short period since the Maori Affairs Act 1953 has been in force.

The J. K. Hunn Report on the Department of Maori Affairs provided some interesting information on the fact that fragmentation of land titles is not confined only to Maori lands in New Zealand. Minute fragmentation prevails throughout the Continent of Europe.

It has been shown that the principal cause of fragmentation is undoubtedly the cumulative effect of the law of succession over successive generations and is aggravated by:

(i)	the increasing density of population combined with the scarcity of suitable land; and/or
(ii)	the lack of balance between agriculture and industry in the national economy of the country; and/or
(iii)	the indiscriminate purchase of small isolated parcels.

Some years have now passed since the sections of the Maori Affairs Act, 1953, dealing with title improvement, have been acted upon, and it is now possible from the work done by the specialist officers employed on title improvement to make an assessment of the situation as it is and the future prospect of accomplishing permanent and suitable improvement.

Everybody's land is nobody's land. That, in short, is the story of Maori land today. Multiple ownership obstructs utilisation, so Maori land quite commonly lies in the rough or grazes a few animals apathetically, while a multitude of absentee owners rest happily on their proprietary rights, small as they are.

Fragmentation of ownership opposes a serious bar to the proper use of the land in the interests of the Maoris themselves, not to mention the national interest. Whereas European land is usually in the name of one person, Maori land often has hundreds, even thousands, of owners in minute fractions. The reason is that even the smallest interest in land will save that owner from being a “landless” Maori, a person without turangawaewae or standing to speak on the tribal marae.

A growing number of Maoris would readily sell their fractional interests in land; but, to the remainder, turangawaewae is an important feature of Maori culture. This can be understood as it is not so long ago since the British electoral franchise rested on the property qualification. But the British version of turangawaewae changed with the times and now finds expression in universal adult suffrage. It would be a good thing if the Maori people, with customary realism, could come to regard the ownership of a modern home in town (or country) as a stronger claim to speak on the marae than ownership of an infinitesimal share in scrub country that one has never seen.

Within a generation, Maoris will all have a decent home and nothing but a microscopic interest in land, so small as to be scarcely a token of ownership. Turangawaewae based on home ownership would be a realistic gesture of recognition of those Maoris who have proved themselves of some consequence as citizens and have demonstrated their love of a particular plot of land in a practical way.

If fragmentation were, indeed, the ancient Maori title system it would be easier to understand whatever reluctance there may be to part with it; but. in point of fact, it is a European invention imposed on them less than 100 years ago. It came into being when the Maori Land Court was set up in 1865 to transmute the vague Maori customary title into a title cognisable under English law (i.e. proprietary system).

In the Hunn Report on Maori Affairs some interesting statistical data was published which shows quite plainly the serious position that Maori land titles are in today and the need for a determined approach to tackle the problem.

The number of separate titles registered in each district is:

District	Succession Orders
Whangarei	1,037
Auckland	1,064
Rotorua	1,961
Gisborne	1,314
Wanganui	2,402
Palmerston North	644
Christchurch	363
	—
	8,785

The number of successors (32,861) added to the titles in a single year is equal to 20 per cent of the total Maori population.

While the titles are degenerating at this alarming rate, two measures have been tried, but have failed to arrest the deterioration. These are known as consolidation and conversion.

Consolidation is the process of amalgamating all the separate interests that any one person may own

District	Consolidation Schemes Completed
Whangarei	11
Auckland	3
Rotorua	6
Gisborne	6
Wanganui	–
Palmerston North	2
Christchurch	–
	—
	28

District	Titles
Whangarei	7,000
Auckland	9,455
Rotorua	13,000
Gisborne	6,167
Wanganui	10,000
Palmerston North	7,695
Christchurch	3,028
	—
Total	56,345

In Tokerau District (Whangarei) there are said to be 1,242,200 owners' names in the titles, or an average of 177 owners in each title. The corresponding figures for other districts are not known.

The following table shows the estimated rate at which new owners are being added each year by succession:

Average Increase in Owners Per Succession Order	Annual Net Increase Number of Owners
0.91	933
7.0	7,522
4.4	8,508
0.31	338
4.5	10,800
4.1	2,582
6.0	2,178
	—
	32,861

in various blocks. His dispersed land interests are added up (in value) and relocated as a combined interest in one block. It is a long, laborious and futile process that has finally been abandoned. except on a small scale. It has been going on for 50 years (since 1911) with results, as follows, which can hardly be said to have justified all the time and money involved:

Acreage	Average Area
5,146	468
93,765	31,255
82,992	13,832
96,175	16,029
–	–
9,596	4,798
–	–
—	—
287,674	10,277

Some examples can be given of the effects of Consolidation, viz.:

District	Scheme
Whangarei	Waiapu North
Auckland	Pukemoremore
Gisborne	Waihaua

Consolidation may look impressive on these figures but unhappily it is a treadmill effort, endless and hopeless. As soon as consolidation is completed, the ownership starts to proliferate again by death and succession, so consolidation is never really completed at all.

Conversion is the latest device to be tried. It

Interests Bought	Purchase Price	Average Value
10,874	£109,936	£10

The amount held in the Maori Trustee's Conversion Fund is £110,000 (revolving) but the conversion procedure is not usually resorted to unless there is a prospective purchaser in sight. (Interests bought up in “reserved lands” cannot, however, be sold.) Recourse to conversion should be stepped up, as will be shown.

Through misconception, conversion has, in some districts, been called confiscation. In its aim of retaining Maori land in Maori ownership, it achieves the very opposite of confiscation. Conversion is a form of consolidation but is much simpler and speedier than the old-style consolidation. “Convert and hold; fragment and lose!” might well be the slogan of all who wish Maori land to be retained for the Maoris.

Another device known as “the £10 Rule” was brought in by legislation in 1957. It enabled the Court to vest the whole of the interest of a deceased person in any one or more beneficiaries to the exclusion of any other, without payment, provided the excluded beneficiary's share does not exceed £10. One Judge has said it is a good rule but would be better still if the £10 limit were “pushed right up”.

Again, there is statutory authority for “live buying” by the Maori Trustee; in other words, buying from living owners by agreement. It is not done casually, but with some utilisation motive in mind. It offers the greatest scope of all for simplification of titles.

There is ceaseless conflict between the forces of integration and the forces of disintegration of Maori land titles, with the opposing forces lined up as follows:—

		Owners
Completed	Area	Before Consolidation	After Consolidation
1956	1,350	1,023	59
1958	11,000	694	400
1960	110,790	53,327	5,478

was introduced by statute in 1953 and is the process whereby the Maori Trustee buys small “uneconomic interests” (under £25) in Maori land and sells them to individual Maoris or to Maori incorporations. The progress with conversion so far is briefly this:

Interests Sold	Sale Price	Average Value
5,930	£74,764	£12 ½

For Integration	For Disintegration
Consolidation
Conversion	Partition
£10 Rule	Succession
Live Buying

and the forces of integration are fighting a losing battle. It is a battle, however, that could be won with these same forces and methods if only they were reorganised and employed with more determination

Dowson and Sheppard, in their book Land Registration (in the British Commonwealth) have this to say:

“The evolution of tenure must be controlled by statute, and, if the best interests of the rightholders are studied, it must be a gradual process…

A TAAWHAKI TE TOHUNGA KUTIKUTI HIPI

na HIRINI MOKO

Epeehea ana, e hoa.” He paatai teenei ki a Taawhaki. Ka whakahoki a Taawhaki, “E pai ana!”

“Ka taea e koe te toru rau?”

“Ee, ka taea! Ngaawari noa iho!”

Kei te haruru ngaa miihini, hoihoi ana te whare kutikuti hipi. Kei te rere ngaa puruma a ngaa pirihoo ki te tahitahi i ngaa wuuru. Kei te rere ngaa miihini kutikuti. Heke ana te werawera o te tangata—tino kino ke! Maringi mai te werawera haere tonu ngaa mahi, haere tonu ngaa miihini, ngaa puruma, ngaa pirihoo, haere tonu. Ka kumea mai teenaa hipi ka makaia atu teenaa ki waho. Puta mai ano he hipi haere ano teetahi.

E whaa ngaa taangata kutikuti. Ko Wiremu te mea koroua o raatau. E ono tekau pea oona tau. Kua puuhina oona makawe, oona paahau; engari kei te kutikuti hipi tonu ia. He tangata tino pakari a Wiremu, he koroua tino kaha ki te mahi. I a Te Whiu te tuuranga tuarua. He tangata tino nui teenei; he tangata roa hoki. Te pai o te hanga o te tangata, ko Te Whiu teenaa. Maatotoru ana ngaa ringaringa, me te nui hoki o te puku i te mahi kai pia!¹ Ko te tuuranga tua toru i a Kaihuka. He tangata moomona ia, he tangata aroha i te tangata ahakoa ko wai, aa, he tangata tino reka ki te waiata. He autaia tonu ki te kutikuti hipi. Ko te taahae nei ko Taawhaki, i a ia te tuuranga tuawhaa. Ko ia te tamaiti o te tokowhaa nei, aa, ki toona nei whakaaro ko ia te tino tangata!

Naa, kei te haruru ngaa miihini, kei te rere te wuuru, kei te pahupahu mai ngaa kurii i waho, i roto. Kei te aakina ngaa hipi e te hiiooo kia kikii ngaa waahi pupuri. Mai i ngaa kaikutikuti, tae noa ki ngaa pirihoo, ki ngaa perehimana, ki te kuki i toona kaauta, kei te haere te mahi, kei te haere.

Ka tiiwaha ake a Kaihuka, “E peehea ana ta taatau kuuao? E pai ana!”

 

THE EXPERT SHEARER

by SID MEAD
Translated by the Author

How are you doing, friend?” This was a question directed at Taawhaki. He replied, “I'm doing alright!”

“Do you think you'll get your three hundred?”

“Assuredly! It will be easy!”

There is the clatter of machinery filling the woolshed with a bustling din. The brooms of the “fleecos” flash as they sweep away the wool. Onward fly the hand-pieces. And the perspiration of man freely flows—oh, very badly. But, though the perspiration falls the work continues, onward go the shearing machines, the brooms and the fleecos. A sheep is dragged in and another is pushed out. As one appears another one disappears.

There were four shearers in this gang. Wiremu was the ancient one among them. He was about sixty years old. His hair was grey, so too his whiskers, but he was still shearing. A hardy man was Wiremu, an old man who knew how to work. He had the first stand. Te Whiu occupied the second stand. He was a big man and a tall one. A wonderful specimen of man, that was Te Whiu! Thick were his arms, and he had developed a paunch through much drinking of beer. The third stand was held by Kaihuka. He was a well-fed man, a lover of his fellowmen no matter whom, and he was a very sweet singer. And he wasn't a bad shearer either. This fellow Taawhaki had the fourth stand. He was the baby among this foursome and in his opinion, he was the best man among them.

Now, the machines are rumbling, the wool is flying off and the dogs are barking outside and in. The sheepo is urging the sheep along to fill the holding pens. From the shearers right down to the fleecos, to the pressmen, to the cook in her kitchen, the work is proceeding, is proceeding.

“How is our baby doing? Alright?” shouted Kaihuka. Taawhaki realised this banter was meant for him, so he said,

 

 

Kua moohio a Taawhaki moona te koorero nei, ka mea ia, “E koro, Wiremu! Ko koe teenei e koorerotia nei e te taahae nei e Kaihuka! Kohetetia!”

Ka kata atu a Taawhaki, me te haere tonu o te mahi.

Ka karanga te koroua, “E kii! E kii! Ko koe tonu teenaa e koorerotia nei, Taawhaki! Kua ngenge koe, tamaiti!” Ka kata mai te koroua ki a Taawhaki.

Kua mutu teenaa hipi te kuti, ka haere a Taawhaki ki te hopu i teetahi ano. Ka tiiwaha atu ia ki a Wiremu, “Kia kaha, e koro! E peehea ana te tuaraa o te koroua? Ka whati pea!”

Ka whakahoki mai teeraa, “E whati ki hea! I te rima karaka ko tou pea te tuaraa ka whati aakuanei! Hei aha, kia kaha poai! Whaaia te toru rau! Kia Kaha!”

Ka kii mai a te Whiu, “Hei aha te koorero, e hoa ma. Ka pau noa o koorua hau i te koorero. Kia kaha ki te mahi!” Ka haere ia ki te hopu hipi maana, i reira ka haaparangi te waha, “Hii-poo! He hipi ano!”

Ka mea atu oona hoa, “Ka pai te haere a Te Whiu! Whakarongo atu, kua pau ke, aana hipi!”

Ka kii ake ko Kaihuka, “Aue! ngaa pia o te Kirihimete e maringi mai nei i taku kiri!”

Ka karanga atu a Taawhaki ki a ia, “E koe na! E inu ano!”

Ka koorero ano a Kaihuka, “Me kai ano, ka tika! Ka pau katoa mai hoki i teenei mahi!” Naa, kei te heke te werawera o Kaihuka—piia-taata mai ana toona kiri! Ka mutu te hipi ka kapo atu ia i tana taaora, ka taaora i a ia. Heemanawa ana toona ahua.

Ka mahi raatau, aa, ka tangi, te pere mo te inu ti o te ata. Ka mutu ngaa mahi, ka mutu hoki te haruru o te miihini, marino ana. Kua rere ngaa ringaringa ki te kapu ti, ki te paraaoa, ki te keke. Kua inu i te inu a te hanga mate-inu. Kua noho ngaa tinana ngenge ki raro ki te whakataa, ki te koorerorero.

I a raatau e inu ti ana, ka kautehia ngaa hipi kua mutu te kutikuti i eenei mahinga e rua. Koinei ngaa kaute:

	Wiremu	Te Whiu	Kaihuka	Taawhaki
Mahinga Tuatahi	53	55	48	75
Mahinga Tuarua	60	61	53	80
	—	—	—	—
	113	116	101	155
	—	—	—	—

 

 

“Old man, Wiremu, that fellow Kaihuka is talking about you! Growl him!” Tawhaki laughed at him as he continued to work.

The old man called out, “Well, well, now! It is yourself indeed that has been mentioned, Taawhaki! Are you tired, child?” And the old man laughed at Taawhaki.

When Taawhaki finished his sheep, he went to fetch another. As he did so he called to Wiremu, “Come on, old man! How is the old man's back? It will break perhaps!”

He replied, “Break, will it! At five o'clock it might be your back that will break! Never mind, be strong, boy! Pursue your three hundred. Come on now!”

Te Whiu said to them, “For what is all this talk? You will consume all your energy talking. Get on with the work.” He went to fetch another sheep. Then he yelled, “Sheepo! Some more sheep!” His friends teased, “My word, Te Whiu is moving along wonderfully. Hearken to him, his pen is empty.”

Then said Kaihuka, “Alas, the Christmas beer which is flowing from my skin!”

“That will teach you! Drink some more!” Taawhaki called to him.

Kaihuka replied, “It is right, that I should partake again. You lose it all with this job!” The perspiration was dripping from Kaihuka, so that his skin glistened. When he finished his sheep, he made a grab for his towel to wipe himself. He looked flushed and weary.

They worked on until finally the morning smoko bell rang. The work stopped and the noise of the engine ceased so all was peaceful. Hands reach out for cups of tea, for bread and for cake. They drink in the manner of the very thirsty. Tired bodies seat themselves to rest and yarn.

As they drank their tea, the sheep which had been shorn in these two runs were counted out. Here are the tallies:

	Wiremu	Te Whiu	Kaihuka	Taawhaki
1st	53	55	48	75
2nd	60	61	53	80
	—	—	—	—
	113	116	101	155
	—	—	—	—

 

 

Ka kii atu ko Wiremu, “Kia kaha tamaiti, kei piiti koe i too koroua!”

Ka koorero atu hoki a Kaihuka, “As, kia kaha koe kei kore a Kuia e aroha atu ki a koe! Ko Mereana raanei taau e piirangi ana?” Ko Mereana teetahi o ngaa pirihoo; he koohine aataahua, moohio hoki ki taana mahi.

Ka whakahoki atu a Taawhaki, “Ei, kei te pai! He ngaawari noa iho teenei mahi. Ka kite koutou, ka taea te toru rau!”

Ka rere ngaa miihini kutikuti. Haruru ano te whare i te turituri o teenei mahi. Kei reira teenaa mea te hipi, piripiri ana, e tatari ana kia kutia o raatau wuuru. Kei reira te rangatira o aua hipi, e maatakitaki ana i aana herengi e ngahoro mai ana i ngaa tuaraa o aana hipi. E tu mai ana hoki te rangatira naana teenei roopu kutikuti hipi; kei te kite atu ia i aana nei herengi e puta atu ana ki ngaa iaari i waho. Kaaore e taea e te tangata mahi te tu noa; he mahi kei te haere. Me korikori te tinana ka tika; ki te kore kaaore he moni hei utu i ngaa nama.

Ka mauria mai he hipi, e Taawhaki, ka pupuritia ma oona waewae. Ka kumea te taura hei tiimata i te miihini kutikuti. Haruru mai ana, ka mau te ringa ki te miihini. Tiimata mai te kuti i te uma, haere atu ki raro ki te puku, ka huakina. Ka haere ki ngaa uu, tae atu ki ngaa kuuhaa, ki waho inaianei o te waewae maui. Haere i reira ki te tou, ki te whiore, ki te taha raro o te tuaraa. Ka rere te miihini ki te kuti i runga o te maahunga. Ka neke ngaa waewae o Taawhaki. Huakina inaianei ko ngaa wuuru o te kakii mai i te uma puta noa atu i te kauae. Haere atu, ko te taha o te kanohi, ko te kakii tae noa ki te pakihiwi. Ka huri haere te kaikuti me te whakatakoto i te hipi. Ka karawhiua te “boomerang”. Mutu atu teenaa ka kuumea mei te maanunga, kutia ko teeraa taha o te kanohi, o te kakii tae noa ki te pakihiwi, huri atu ki te waewae. Haere atu inaianei ki raro ki te waewae o muri.

I teenei waa ka rere mai te pirihoo ki te tiki mai i te wuuru. Ka hoatu te ringa whakamutunga, makere mai ana te wuuru o teenaa hipi. Kua mutu ia te kuti, makaia atu ma te ara ki te iaari. Ka hoatu he hinu mo te miihini. Kuumea ko te taura, mutu ana te turituri a te miihini kutikuti! Kua mauria e te pirihoo te wuuru, kua whiua ki te teepu. Tae mai inaianei ko te puruma hei tahitahi i te tuuranga o te kaikuti. Mutu kau ana teenei mahi a te pirihoo kua tae mai ano he hipi hei kuti.

Kaore he whakangaa mo te kaikuti e whai ana i te toru rau. Mutu ana taana kuti i te hipi ka mau ia ki te taaora hei taaora i nga werawera i toona kanohi, i toona rae. Naa, hopukina he hioi. haere ano te mahi nei, haere tonu.

He wuuru! He wuuru! He wuuru!
Kei konei, kei konaa, kei koraa!
He hipi! He hipi! He hipi!
Aue mai, Aue atu, Aue tonu!
He werawera, he puehu, he turituri!

 

 

fleecos; a very handsome girl and one who knew her job.

Taawhaki replied, “Look, it's O.K.! The job is easy. You will all see, three hundred will be reached!”

The hand-pieces fly. The woolshed is reverberating with the noise of this work. That creature the sheep, was there in hundreds, packed close together, waiting to be shorn of their wool. There was the owner of those sheep, watching his shillings falling off the backs of his sheep. There stood too the contractor of this shearing gang, seeing his shillings going out the chutes to the yards outside. The working man is not able to stand idly gazing, for there is work to be done. He has to keep his body in motion, for if he doesn't there will be no money to pay his debts!

Taawhaki brought in a sheep which he held with his legs. He pulled the rope to start the machine. As soon as it buzzed, his hand grabbed hold of it. He started shearing from the breast going downwards to the stomach. He opened out the wool. He continued down to the udder, thence inside the legs, to the outside now of the left leg. From there to the rear, to the tail and the lower part of the back. The machine then flew to cut the wool at the top of the head. Taawhaki shifted his legs. He opened up now the wool at the neck from the breast right up to the jaw. From there to the side of the face to the neck, down to the shoulder. The shearer gradually turned, laying the sheep down as he did so. Then he swept on with the “boomerang”. That completed he pulled up the head and he shore the side of the face, of the neck, down to the other shoulder, and to the leg. He swept down now to the hind leg.

At this point, the fleeco rushed in to collect the wool. He gave the final stroke and the fleece of that sheep was off. When it had been shorn the sheep was thrown down the chute to the yards. He oiled his machine. He pulled the rope that ended the noise of the shearing machine.

The fleeco has taken the wool away sprcading it out upon the table. The broom has arrived to sweep clean the shearing board. As soon as this work is completed another sheep has arrived.

There is no rest for a shearer wishing to reach three hundred. When he finishes shearing a sheep he grabs his towel to wipe away the perspiration on his face and his brow. He catches another sheep and the procedure is repeated.

Wool! Wool! Wool!
It is here! It is there! It is beyond!
Sheep! Sheep! Sheep!
Bleating here! Bleating there! Bleating all the time!
Perspiration, dust and din!
The Maori labours for his money!

 

 

Ka mahi te Maori aana herengi!

Kua tangi te pere mo te tina. Kua mutu ano ngaa mahi. He kai he koorero inaianei.

Ka kii ake a Taawhaki, “He aha raa ngaa kai ma taatau? Kei te tino matekai au!”

 

 

Said Taawhaki, “I wonder what food has been prepared for us? I'm starving!”

The old man, Wiremu, said, “Now, don't eat too much or you may not put out this three hundred!”

And Kaihuka said, “You know, for the amount you eat, I wonder what good that food does you!”

Taawhaki replied, “In the afternoon, you will see what good. When the three hundred has been reached, then you will see!”

Te Whiu spoke up, “I say, listen to our child! How neat!”

Then were eaten puuhaa, cabbage, meat, potatoes and pudding and cream. They laid bare the table!

“Tomorrow,” Wiremu was saying, “we shall feed Taawhaki on fermented crayfish. That is the food befitting for the chiefly class. Now, if you should do your three hundred today it is only right that you should eat the food of chiefs.”

“Ei, I don't think you're right!” This was Taawhaki speaking, “I don't know how to eat that food. Let the chiefs eat their own food.”

Te Whiu pursued the point, “What the old man says is very true. That is the food which is given to any shearer reaching three hundred for the first time. You should know, that the birth of a baby is honoured by consuming a certain ‘food’, so is the first three hundred celebrated by its own particular kind of food.”

Taawhaki said to him, “Ah, I won't be eating any of that food!”

Now Wiremu spoke again, “What is to be, can't be avoided. If you should reach three hundred, then a meal of fermented crayfish will follow.”

Taawhaki said to them, “Now, look here, you are all jealous that I might manage three hundred! Cease your jealousy, my friends!”

The tallies for the third run were these following:

Wiremu	Te Whiu	Kaihuka	Taawhaki
40	41	35	44

 

 

Ka puta mai teenei whakaaro kia Taawhaki, “E rua tekau ma toru kei te toe. Ka taea raanei e au, ka peehea raanei? Kua maauiui te tinana inainei, kua ngenge; engari kaua e whakaaturia ki aku hoa kei kataina au!” Kei te haere te mahi. Kei te haere ngaa miihini, ngaa puruma. Koinei te mahinga whakamutunga mo teenei raa. Pau katoa ngaa kaha o ngaa kaimahi ki te mahi i a raatau mahi. Engari ki te maatakitaki atu kua aata haere te korikori. Kua aahua raruraru te tuaraa o te koroua. Mutu ana te hipi, roa noa atu ka torotika te tuaraa, ka hiikoi ngaa waewae. Ko Kaihuka, kei te maringi tonu ngaa pia o te Kirihimete, kaatahi ka tino heemanawa rawa atu. Kua aahua roa tonu a Te Whiu e taaora ana i a ia, i mua i tana hopu hipi maana. Ee, kua tiimata ngaa mahi whakaroaroa. Naa, ko te taahae nei ko Taawhaki, kua mutu aana mahi whakatoi. He mahi tino uaua inaianei.

Ka kite ngaa hoa kua tata te pau o ngaa hau o ta raatau tamaiti. Ka tiimata ta raatau aki i a ia.

Ka mea atu teetahi, “Kia kaha, e hoa! Kara-whiua, kia kai ai koe i te koura mara!”

Ka mea ake ano teetahi. “Kia kaha poai, kei te aroha maatau ki a koe!”

 

 

The work still continues. The machines are traversing their devious paths, so too are the brooms. This is the final run. The workers exert all their effort to carry out their work. But if you were observing them you would notice that their movements had slowed down considerably. The old man's back was beginning to trouble him. When he completed a sheep it was quite a long time afterwards that his back straightened and his legs began to move. As for Kaihuka, his Christmas cheer was still oozing from his skin and he looked more hot and bothered than before. Te Whiu lingered over the act of wiping his brow before catching another sheep. Yes, it looked as though delaying tactics were being employed. And now, this fellow Taawhaki had given up all his cheekiness. Ah, the work was really tough going now.

His friends noticed that the strength of their “child” was nearly spent. So they began urging him on.

One cried out, “Come on, friend! Into it, so you will eat of the fermented crayfish!”

And another cheered, “Come on, boy! We are all behind you!’

 

 

ai ngaa mauiuitanga o te tinana tangata. Aue, te taumaha o te hipi! Me peehea e mau ai i a ia? Puritia kia mau. Puritia, to mana. Ka mahara ia ki ngaa kupu o teetahi waiata e mea nei, “Puritia to mana.” Engari he aha raa eetahi atu o ngaa kupu? Hei aha ma wai eenaa kupu! Te hipi nei … kutia kia makere mai ooona wuuru. E hia kei te toe? Ko teenei anake! Kaaore pea. Mehemea ko teenei anake ka kaha ia, ka eke te toru rau. Ka rongo ano ia i ngaa reo e mea mai ana “Ko Kuia teenaa … kia kaha, e hoa! … kua tata te mutu inaianei … Ka taea e koe, ka taea … E rua kei muri … ka taea … kia kaha … ka taea!”

 

Oh, how heavy is this sheep! How can he hold it? Hold it firmly! Hold fast firmly! Hold fast to your integrity! He remembered vaguely the words of a certain song which said, “Hold fast to your integrity!” But what were the rest of the words? Never mind, who cares about the words anyway! This sheep here … shear it until all its wool is off. How many left? Only one! Perhaps not. If it were only one he could manage and he would reach three hundred. He heard again, the voices calling to him, “That one is Kuia … Be strong, oh friend, you're nearly there, you'll do it, friend … You'll do it … Two left … You'll do it … Be strong … You'll do it!”

GRAND TOUR OF MALAYA

When the ship finally docked at Penang on 23 November 1959 the High Commissioner for New Zealand, Mr C. M. Bennett, was thrilled to be welcomed aboard in the traditional Maori way and the party made its debut to the people of Malaya through the medium of radio, newspaper and the Malayan film unit who sent cameramen aboard whilst the ship was still in the stream.

The Concert Party's first trip away from Taiping was to the capital of the Federation, Kuala Lumpur, on the occasion of New Zealand's National Day, February 6, 1960. At a garden party given at Mr Bennett's home, the party performed before hundreds of guests from the diplomatic corps, Malay civic and government officials and New Zealanders in Malaya. The guest of honour was the Prime Minister of Malaya, Tungku Abdul Rahman. Whilst in Kuala Lumpur the party recorded a varied programme of Maori items which has since been broadcast in Radio Malaya's English, Malay, Tamil and Chinese programmes as well as from Radio Philippines and Radio Indonesia. New Zealand audiences also heard some of these items several months ago on the “Saturday Night at Home” programmes. Towards the end of last year, Kiwi Records released two extended play discs recorded by the party in Kuala Lumpur entitled “Maori Soldiers Abroad” and “Coming of the Maori”.

The next tour was further afield—to Singapore, and here the Party gave seven public performances in five days to schools, cultural organisations and the general public. The highlight of the visit was participation in an international night of festival of songs and dances before a distinguished audience which included the Yang di-Pertuan Negara (the Singapurian Head of State), the Prime Minister, and members of the government and diplomatic corps. When he met members of the party backstage later, the Prime Minister, Mr Lee Kuan You, told them that they had “stolen the show”.

Other engagements which the party has carried out include a ceremonial welcome to the Prime Minister, Mr Nash, on the occasion of his visit in June, and several performances to the wives and children of the Commonwealth Garrison at Taiping. The biggest commitment however was in connection with the Federation's end of emergency celebrations on July 31 of last year. Highlights of a packed 14 days included participation in the New Zealand Army Contingent for the victory parade and opening of the National War Memorial, a performance before 25,000 people at the Maha (the Malay equivalent of one of our Agricultural and Pastoral Shows) and a twenty-minute item in the grand outdoor victory concert at the Lake Gardens. It was estimated that 150,000 people attended during the two nights that the concert ran.

IN A LEPER HOSPITAL

Another performance took place at the large leper settlement at Sungei Buloh. Here, 2000 lepers man their own township, administering it and providing themselves with all essential services such as police and fire brigade, to mention just a few. In a large modern theatre the group staged a concert to a very appreciative audience of all ages. The commentary on the items had to be given in five languages—English, Malay, Mandarin, Hokkien and

Tamil. During the interval and afterwards the boys were entertained in their turn by a very competent display of Scottish and Highland dancing by a group of Chinese patients.

For some time the group was waiting for costumes provided by the New Zealand Government. Early in July when it received notice of the end of emergency commitment, the battalion decided to buy a further set of ten and an order was placed, explaining the urgency, with Emily Schuster of Ngapuna, through the Maori Affairs Department, Rotorua. Rising magnficently to the occasion, Mrs Schuster in ten days, using forced drying methods, completed the order of 10 piupiu and twenty taniko headbands. These were rushed to Auckland, placed on an R.N.Z.A.F. aircraft along with the government-supplied piupiu and brought from Singapore by the Fijian contingent to the Victory Parade. They arrived in Kuala Lumpur on the morning of the big concert in the Lake Gardens scheduled for that night, the 31st of July.

The last series of engagements before Te Ao Hou went to press was in late October. The concert party performed at the exclusive Eastern and Oriental Hotel on Penanga Island to raise funds for the Poppy Day Appeal. In the same week they also staged performances for the wives, families and men of the 7th Battalion, the Royal Malay Regiment, and at the Depot of the Brigade of Gurkhas. The Maori items caught the imagination of the tough little hill men of Nepal in no small measure. A slight complication was the fact that a script had to be sent in advance to the Depot so that a commentary could be arranged in Gurkhal.

Since then, the men have returned to the jungle to continue their task of helping in the round-up of the remaining Communist Terrorists in North Malaya. Lt.-Colonel Aitken hopes that the party might be able to tour the Federation shortly, playing to civilian and military audiences. The men of the Battalion have found amongst the local populace a considerable interest about New Zealand in general and its race relations in particular. The Second Battalion's Concert Party will show these people of a far-off land with a different way of life from New Zealand, something of our own indigenous culture and provide also a practical demonstration of the harmonious mingling of Pakeha and Maori.

PERSONALITY STUDY

GOVERNMENT'S PART

The Government will do its part. We will do all in our power to promote more education and vocational training for the Maori people. We will do all in our power to carry out more energetic programmes in housing and land development. All these measures will in turn, I am sure, help solve some of the other problems and generally lead to better race relations.

THE PEOPLE'S PART

But this is not a matter for Government alone. It is up to us all, Government, Pakeha people and Maori people, to ensure that, hand in hand with urbanisation of the Maori, we do not allow an unhealthy race consciousness to develop on either side, and so divide our people. It need not. It must not. But it will take an effort on the part of all of us to avoid it. The Pakeha people, as the majority people, can do much.

A ‘FAIR GO’ FOR THE MAORI

City life is full of pitfalls for young Maori people. They are cut off from their ancient roots and it is a strange experience. And yet they must increasingly come to the city. I appeal to the Pakeha people to welcome them into your midst. Offer them board and lodging. Extend them the hospitality of your homes. Be friends with them. Help them to get the best jobs for which they are qualified. I appeal to the Pakeha people, in short, to see that the Maori people get a “fair go”. In time of war, they proved themselves worthy of it: and you will find in them a most rewarding response.

THE WAR

Many of us had the privilege of serving overseas during the war in the same brigade as the Maori Battalion. I was with the Maori Battalion in the final stages of their magnificent break-through at Minquar Qaim, in the Western Desert. I will never forget it.

SHARING FRUITS OF PEACE

I know from first hand experience that together, Maori and Pakeha shared the dangers of war. I am determined to ensure that on the home front there is joint participation in the fruits of peace.

TWO WAYS OF BECOMING ONE

Two ways of life are becoming one. And wherever two different ways come into contact, there must be two-way give and take. We have a duty to see that there is a true merging of the two peoples, not a submerging of the minority people. This is an obligation to which, I affirm, we are committed by history and destiny. In a world torn by great differences between racial groups, New Zealand affords an example of the progressive blending of two races.

In the blending of our cultures, the Maori people have much to contribute—certainly not less than the Scots, the Irish, and the Welsh—to the composition of the British people. Not the least of the Maori contribution may be something of the spirit of kindliness, courtesy and tolerance, so necessary in a world tending to be dominated by the current standard of material gain. It is up to both Maori and Pakeha to ensure that our relationship remains based on the principles of justice, equality and racial harmony, the seeds of which were sown here 121 years ago. I repeat what Captain Hobson said to each chief: He iwi kotahi tatou.

A NEW MIGRATION

To the Maori people I say: when the great canoes first set out over the oceans of discovery, nature was your only challenge. The seas and the seasons were your foe and your friend. You were guided by traditions and the stars. Now you are no longer alone. You must calculate your position not only by the stars. You live with other men of the twentieth century. You must sail abreast of the other peoples of the Pacific and the near north. I would say, then: prepare the canoes for another migration as adventurous as the last. But this time, let us build a new canoe to lead the fleet—a canoe called Aotearoa, the New Zealand canoe. How

better could we mark this historic day, our first official New Zealand Day!

The motive power is education. Hoist the sails to catch the winds of change and increase the pace.

CONSULT MAORIS

I look forward to consultation with the Maori leaders about the course and speed of the canoe on their great voyage into the future. In particular, we will confer together on the setting up of a Maori Tribal Council so that the leaders of the people may have a forum for discussion at national level and a channel of communication with the Government. I trust that the Maori people will co-operate with me whole-heartedly in safeguarding and advancing their best interests, as I can assure them that the Government has their best interests at heart.

On this, the first occasion on which we celebrate Waitangi Day as New Zealand's National Day, we dedicate ourselves to the task of facilitating the advance of the Maori people as citizens of New Zealand so that two ways of life can become one.

As this is now our clear objective, not only the Maori but also the Pakeha must be guided by those celebrated words of that great soldier and scholar of the Maori people. Sir Peter Buck:

Ka pu te ruha: ka hao te rangatahi.
The old net is cast aside: the new net goes a-fishing.

ISLAND GIRLS STUDY IN NEW ZEALAND

Three secondary school girls from the New Hebrides are attending the Turakina Maori Girls' College, 24 miles from Wanganui, on a scholarship scheme. The girls, Margaret Kalmar, Agnes Kaltong and Lucy Morris, are the first New Hebridean girls to have the opportunity of studying overseas. The scholarships were awarded by the British Administration in the New Hebrides for their work in the Onesua High School.

NEW P.R.O. APPOINTMENT

The appointment of Mr Michael Ropata of Wellington to be Public Relations Officer, New Plymouth, was announced recently. Thirty years old, Mr Ropata has been Public Relations Officer to the P. (New Zealand) Oil Co. Ltd. for about a year. Before that, he served ten years in the Department of Lands and Survey and was engaged in all phases of land development work. A married man with four children, Mr Ropata has spent most of his life in Wellington. He was born at Otaki. He is a member of the Jaycee organisation, the Academy of Fine Arts, and Heritage. He was well-known as a Rugby player and tennis player. Mr Ropata took up his duties last month.

TE WAIORA A TANE

Modern civilization has marked Cape Reinga with a lighthouse, power-station and wireless masts, appropriate symbols of man's material power over sea, land and air. Only once was this European power over tangible things tested against the supernatural forces of the Maori spirit-world.

That was when the lighthouse site was shifted, from inaccessible Motuopao, the island of Cape Maria van Diemen, to Cape Reinga. Bubbling came from a spring in the hillside, high above the spirit's leap. This stream was sacred. Its very name, Te Waiora-a-Tane (Waters-of-life), came from Hawaiiki. The Maoris believed that once the spirit had passed this point, there was no return from unconsciousness back to the land of the living. Here, the spirits underwent the transformation that prepared them for their long journey through the seas to Hawaiki. The waters of Waiora-a-Tane had taken the tapu of unnumbered generations of Maori dead.

Moreover, a spiritual cleansing with waters called Te Waiora-a-Tane was a feature in the ceremonial of Maori death and the exhumation of bones in all parts of New Zealand. Te-Waiora-a-Tane bore much of the same relation to the ancient religion of the Maori as the waters of Jordan bear to the Christian rites of baptism.

This was the stream the Europeans intended to use for their water supply. As the Maori by that time, had become possibly more Christian than the pakeha, little protest was made. A large concrete reservoir was built, set into the hill beside the track leading down to the lighthouse.

It is still there to be seen, but that is all. It is empty, useless, for no sooner was the work finished than the little stream, Te Waiora-a-Tane, disappeared underground, and did not emerge until it reached the safety of the sea, where it bubbles forth in a clear spring at low-tide mark.

On white, misty days when the cloud is lying

close to the land, the older Maori people say they can hear Te Reo Irirangi, a peculiar high singing, just on the edge of silence. This singing signifies the passing of the spirits. Sometimes the spirits are chattering and laughing too. Only certain people can hear this, but they swear by it, and they include several whose judgment I would not question in other, more mundane matters.

The ancient people of this land were all of them aware of the spirits passing, and in this part of the island at least—even constructed their food-houses accordingly, with the entrance always facing the north, lest the tapu spirit be trapped, contaminating the food, with possibly fatal results. Such things had been known.

HAUMU, HILL OF SPIRITS

On my second trip to Te Reinga, I followed the way of the spirits, the original road taken by the Rev. W. G. Puckey and his guide Te Paerata, in the early December of 1834. I knew Puckey's journal well, thanks to the kindness of his descendants, the Puckeys of Kaitaia. He came up the Ninety-Mile Beach, as I did, and climbed the hill called Haumu at the head of the beach, where the spirits from the two coasts and the centre of the island are said to mingle. Here Puckey records—and explains— the first simple phenomenon. There we saw many dry waka au, which, as a native whom we took as a guide from our last place said, were the tokens of the spirits who have rested at this place. I asked him if it were not possible for strangers who passed this way to do as my natives were then doing, which was everyone twisting green branches and depositing them there as a sign that they had stopped at that notable place. This is a general custom with the natives whenever they pass any remarkable place

I was looking for these braided leaves. Only a few days before, Louis Hobson, the young Maori secretary of the Tai Tokerau Trust Board had been telling me of a pohutukawa, where the dried emblems lay, some made of leaves not usually found near the coast, but I saw no sign of them. Possibly I did not look in the right place.

MARINGAROA, HILL OF FAREWELL

But Hohepa Kanara had mentioned a peculiar braiding of the grass, and I found this, not on Haumu, but on the next hill, Maringinoa, where some freak of the wind had apparently twisted and knotted the marram-grass, binding the heads so tightly they could not uncoil.

Puckey does not mention Maringinoa at all, but states that the spirits paused and wept on Haumu, as they gazed for the last time back the way they had come. It is from Maringinoa, not Haumu, that one has the last view of Ninety-Mile Beach and the sweep of country southward. The very name Maringinoa comes from the weeping of the spirits. “Maringinoa,” said Hohepa Kanara, “is where the spirits farewelled their people,” and I am inclined to accept his statement. Puckey abbreviated his account, and it was written apparently some time after his journey to Cape Reinga. His account goes almost direct from Haumu to the high point overlooking the aka, the root by which the spirits descended into the ocean.

“After Maringinoa,” said Hohepa Kanara, “the spirits descend into the valley of Waingurunguru. In that valley you can hear the water tangiing for the dead.” I thought, at the time, that he was referring possibly to a waterfall or some such thing; but below Maringinoa is a valley, very still and swampy, where a stream flows sluggishly, if at all, and although it was the wrong time of the year for most insects, at the water's edge I could hear faint droning, coming from everywhere and nowhere. Thus was Waingurunguru, murmuring-waters. It was more an eerie quivering of the air than an actual sound, and it persisted for the length of the stream.

TE PAE O REHUA

It was a relief to come at last to the sound of breakers and the beach stretching from Cape Maria van Diemen to Te Pae-o-Rehua, the high western edge of Te Rerenga Wairua. Puckey and his party found the climb up from the beach hard and dangerous going. I kept well clear of the sheer drop down to the rocks and breakers, some hundreds of feet below and found the going quite good.

From the top of Te Pae-o-Rehua, where the wireless masts stand today, the spirits took the plunge, down Te Waiora-a-Tane to the final jagged scarp of Te Reinga itself, almost a thousand feet below. Puckey describes this last, rocky projection of the coast: Here there is a hole through a rock, into which the spirits are said to go: after this, they ascend again, and thence descend by the aka (root) to the Reinga, which is a branch of a tree, projecting out of the rock, inclining downwards, with part of it broken off by the violence of the wind but said to have been broken off by the number of spirits which went down by the aka some years ago, when great numbers were killed in a fight.

The fight referred to was the second battle between Hongi and Murupaenga of the Ngati-Whatua (Kaipara) tribe, when Hongi and his Ngapuhi with their muskets took terrible vengeance for Murupaenga's earlier victory at Oripiro.

TE AKA, ROOT OF THE SPIRIT WORLD

It was rumoured—and the rumours are still believed by some people—that Puckey had chopped away Te Aka, the root to the spirit-world. This act would not be out of character. All the early missionaries, except the unfrocked Kendall and the unpopular Richard Taylor attacked in the most direct manner, any manifestation of so-called heathenism, burning carved houses, desecrating tapu places, if only to demonstrate to the Maori that the mana (the power and prestige) of the Christian religion was greater than that of the heathen. Mathews and Puckey, the two missionaries

of Kaitaia, were no exception to this rule.

But Puckey did not cut the root. He himself describes the trouble his visit caused, and how the trouble was met by Te Paerata, his guide: During the time I was absent, great rumours were spread among the tribes that I had gone to cut away the Aka of the Reinga. Many angry speeches were made, and some said they would go and waylay us, as we were returning. It, in fact, roused all the affections of those who had any, for their old Dagon; while numbers who had begun to feel a little enlightened said ‘And what of it? It the ladder is cut away, it is a thing of lies, and the spirits never went there.’

On being asked, ‘What are you afraid of, having no place of torment to do to?’ some of the old men would touchingly say, ‘It is very well for you to have your Rangi (Heaven), but leave us the old road to our Reinga, and let us have something to hold on by, as we descend, or we shall break our necks over the precipice.’

Puckey and Te Paerata were intercepted by the chiefs of the Far North and their followers, who were in a most threatening mood. Te Paerata spoke for two hours, told them every detail of the journey and said they had not harmed the aka in any way; this was found to be so. The chiefs then let Puckey and Te Paerata return.

The same pohutukawa tree that Puckey was supposed to have chopped is still there today, an insignificant thing growing in a cleft in the rock, but its endurance over the centuries on this barren place where nothing else grows is almost beyond nature, supernatural.

MAURIANUKU

Below Te Aka, the long dry root of the pohutukawa which does not quite reach the sea, is Maurianuku, the entrance to the underworld. Puckey calls this place Motatau and says that here the Maori spirits godown to their hell. He describes how the kelp used to slide back and forth over the entrance, and how the rocks are reddened with Kokowai or red-ochre, with which the Maoris used to daub themselves. According to Puckey's guide, even the fish caught at this place were red. But there is no sign of Kokowai today, only coralline, the reddish sea-algae.

I put on goggles and flippers and swam, rather tentatively, in Maurianuku. Although the coast, a hundred yards away, is thick with paua and crayfish, here the underwater walls of the Reinga were almost bare of any growth. One could put this down to the force of the perpetual surge, the backwash of the tidal-rip. I found no sign of any great depth, but there was an eerieness in this water that made me stay close to the rock and not look too far.

As we climbed back up the slow steep ridge to the lighthouse, we could see more clearly the ocean beyond Te Rerenga Wairua, running like the rapids of a river, a square mile of water convulsed in the clash of tides. But the constant, distant roaring seemed to be diminishing—the change of the tide was approaching.

Now we would see Te Ripo-a-Mauria-nuku, the current of Maurianuku, the first sea-stage of the spirits' journey. Slowly, the sea subsided and was still, and the Ripo took form, a winding line of demarcation between those two uncongenial bedfellows, Tasman and Pacific.

Te Ripo-a-Maurianuku leads the spirits out to Manawatawhi, mis-called Great Island by the Pakeha, the largest of the Three Kings. The Maori name is just as literal, but infinitely preferable to the pakeha: it means, “Last breath”, for at Manawatawhi the spirits came up for the last glimpse of their island home. Then, the way was theirs' alone, into the unknown.

WHOLE MEMBERSHIP MUST KNOW AND FOLLOW LEAGUE IDEALS

The League was designed to be and has become an educational movement for the uplifting of the Maori people. Each League should be a living example of the vision of those who laid its foundations and initiated its formation. Every League should have among its members a cross-section of the community, the leaders, the followers and those who are gathered by the wayside. Within the movement there is scope for all kinds of people and rewards tangible and intangible. On those who are leaders must fall the dual responsibility of running their branch with inspiration and efficiency, and of representing their people by working alongside the Pakeha in community projects. Both jobs are important but leaders must always bear in mind that they are nothing without their iwi and their first loyalty must always be to their own people.

There is no doubt that the League has its quota of leaders, the truth of this is clearly recognisable at the Annual Conference, but it is open to question whether those able people give sufficient thought to the needs of their followers, the main body of the branch. It is important for Maori women to take their rightful place in modern democratic society, but it is also necessary for those who have received the light to pass it on to those still in the shadow. Can we be so sure that within the League itself there is not the cancer of self advancement rather than the healing hand of kindly teaching?

LEAGUE IS UNIQUE ORGANISATION

The League has no parallel in Pakeha society, rather is its place taken by many groups each covering specific aspects of League Constitution. There are many social workers outside the framework of Child Welfare Department, most schools have close liaison between parents and teachers and there are few mothers who do not avail them

selves of the services of the Plunket Society. A Pakeha Women's Welfare League would be redundant.

Our League is rather like a Gilbert and Sullivan character, everything and everyone rolled into one. From the habits and the problems of the Maori people arose the need for their own organisation. The League belongs to Maori women and although it welcomes Pakeha members, it has essentially a Maori flavour. It has to do with Welfare—anything and everything that effects the well-being of the race. And so we come back to our Constitution—so broad in the conception of its aims, and so wide in their application and, it may be added, so difficult to apply.

LEAGUES SHOULD SEEK COMMUNITY SUPPORT

The latest figures show that League membership has fallen. Why? Let us each look into our hearts for the answer. Are the aims too high, the concepts too broad? No! Has the period of greatest need passed? No! Could it be that our ideas have become rusty or our ideals dusty? Effective League leadership demands certain abilities and certain disciplines plus a belief in the work. It is necessary to understand the aims of the League and to implement the carrying out of them. Understanding comes first, planning second and execution third. At each stage, intelligence, confidence, organising ability, tact and energy are required, but above all these there must be a faith and a hope in the future of the Maori people. We must all use our brains to the best of our ability, follow up our ideas with hard work and add to these something of the missionary zeal that was displayed in the early days of the League.

Here is an idea and a set of ideals, worth fighting for, worthy of sharing, a fellowship of women who are all part of the family that is the Maori people. It is up to members to believe in the aims of the League and to convert others to that belief. The true strength of any organisation lies in its membership. Only through a strong following can the League approach its potential as a living force, able to voice its opinion on matters concerning the race and by reason of its achievements be listened to with respect.

Enthusiasm is needed in this year of Independence and it must come from every member. Let the able help the unable within each branch. The League is for all Maori women, bring in the elite and the illiterate, and naumai! Women who are well adjusted and comfortable in their own lives need to look with aroha on those less fortunate ‘There but for the Grace of God, go I’. Qualities of understanding, sympathy and wisdom backed by practical help are needed among our members if they wish the League to gain in strength.

The aims of the League are high but not unattainable, to fulfil them, and justify our independence, we must be prepared not only to stand firmly on our own feet, but also to steady and lead others in the march of progress.

THE CROWD EASY TO PLEASE

“Gee, boy,” said one chap, “look at those nice looking sheilas at the end of the front row.”

I chuckled to myself, and the voice of the Stage Manager brought my thoughts to a halt.

“Half a minute to go, you blokes!”

“How do you feel, Jack?” I said bringing myself back to reality.

“Real cool, man,” came his reply, with a glint of mischief flashing in his dark eyes. But with many others of our race, it is almost impossible at times to read their thoughts and feelings. Last night we had also played to a packed house back in Waikune, to an audience consisting mostly of the Officers and their wives, outside visitors, and those of the inmates not taking part in the show. Our common-room had been decorated with greenery, and cut-outs, and gay streamers. And a stage had been built at one end. I myself have come to the conclusion that prison audiences are the most critical of any, if not the hardest to please. But now everything was going well, the crowd easy to please, and certainly one of the most responsive I've ever heard. Stepping over wire leads and a hundred other little things and props, I walked over to where the Chief Officer sat looking pleased and amused. Rather like the “country Squire” tonight in his walking out civvies, a filter tipped cigarette in one hand, and a look that had “Jolly Good Show!” written all over it. On stage Ron and his Hawaiians were “Hollywooding it” (playing up) to the crowd. Ron's steel guitar playing was perfect, the music was simply terrific, but not one of them was smiling; they were all deadpan.

“Why don't one of them smile?”, says the Chief.

“Hey, Lizzard,” I call softly to the Maori guitarist of the group nearest me, and wave to attract his attention. At last he hears, and gives me a sideward look.

“Smile, man, smile,” I say, and his face bursts into a happy grin.

“That's more like it,” we all chorus at once.

“Go out there and do a hula or something,” the Chief says to me. “Come on!”

“What, and have Ron throw a warbly? (fit),” I reply. “we'll all end up in the digger.” (detention cell).

PUTTING ON NEW PERSONALITIES

This must be one of the rare times that he is rewarded with some enjoyment out of his work, I think, as he is called away by one of the Duty Officers. Around me the hustle and bustle of preparations go on, as artists prepare for acts with costumes and props made by the inmates themselves. Hill Billy outfits, Rock ‘n’ Roll, Nigger Minstrels, Comedy Scenes, Maori Haka Party, which included poi dances, action songs, and stick games. A Pacific Island group, complete with leis, lava-lava's and a hula dancer in coloured skirt and long black hair, singing genuine Tahitian songs, with vocalists who catered for the tastes of young and old. We kept the crowd of 700 pleased and happy for 3 ½ hours in a bright and breezy nonstop variety show. Much of that credit must go to the Superintendent, our Chief Officer, and all the other officers, for all the assistance and help given us during our practice periods. For all this entails extra labour for them. This Variety Show was held in Taumarunui last year in aid of funds for the Taumarunui Police Boys' Club, and raised £110 towards their building fund. I and the rest of the concert party were more than glad of this opportunity to be of some help towards such a worthwhile cause. Taumarunui is about 30 miles from Waikune. And that night as we climbed into the bus which was to take us there, everybody was in a good mood. The atmosphere was a gay one. As soon as the bus pulled away, out came the odd guitar or two, and in a little while, nearly everyone was singing. Glad to be away from Waikune for a change. Some of the chaps had changed into their civilian clothes, and seemed to put on new personalities, while others like myself wore what we call leisure blues, blue trousers, grey shirts, and long sleeved jerseys, black socks and shoes. As the miles sped by, we were no longer prison inmates, but a group of happy males on a bus excursion. Gone are the worries and little incidents that crop up, whenever a show is planned. Here it is harder still for the producer. For men come and go, and it is not always so easy to find replacements, which, more often than not, means changing a whole act. A shout of rowdiness, and choruses of “Let's stop,

and get a couple of crates,” come all at once, as I catch a glimpse of a hotel.

“What's this place?”

“Owhango.” “Not much further to go now, mate,” says a friend.

“Look, that's where the Maori Youth Club meets,” says another as we pass a meeting house on a well lit marae. These are just some of the incidents that helped to make our trip real. We were given a splendid supper by the police and members of the Boys' Club. One of the local Maori clergyman, addressed the Maori members on how pleased he was to see us, and how much he had enjoyed the shows, but I could not help wishing that it had been a Maori organization to sponsor this concert.

NOT ACCUSTOMED TO LATE NIGHTS

Our trip home was a pleasant one, what with being the performers of a successful show, and our stomachs contented with the tasty dishes presented at supper time. For many it was the first time they had stayed up late for a long time, especially at this hour of the night. At first our bus was filled with the sound of rich singing, then gradually here and there heads began to nod, until only the throbbing strum of the guitar and the melodious voices of the few gay sparks were left, broken now and then by the odd snore. Later as the bright lights of Waikune shone out of the early morning mist, my tired body felt nothing but gladness, the one people associate with homecoming. Afterwards, curled up in my blankets, half asleep, my thoughts drifted back to the last few hours, mostly to the hall in Taumarunui. What impressed me most? The prolonged applause of the audience at the close, the sad feeling that seemed to cloak my whole being, as the crowd and we sang, Po Atarau, shrouding me into a state of sadness. Or the reply to a statement by one of my fellow mates to another.

“Did you see that beautiful young woman about three rows back?”

“Listen here, mate,” came the reply, “I've been so long here, they all look like Marilyn Monroe.”

But this is what I remembered most of all. Directly in front of us sat a very noted and learned Maori identity, skilled in the art of carving, tukutuku work and Maori culture. My heart cried out silently, that one day Waikune and other institutions, out in country areas, would have men such as this, to visit and teach the knowledge of our ancestors to Maori inmates such as I and the many others, who struggle to keep in time with the march of progress, yet wherever we are, strive to retain our Maoritanga.

TAPUTAPUATEA

I te ata o te Taite i ahua moata ana taku ara. horoi ana, i muri i te kai, haere ana ahau ki te tirotiro haere. Kaore i tino tawhiti ake i te kainga o te tavana nei. ka u ahau ki te marae nei ki Taputapuatea. Mea whakamiharo, mihi ana, tangi ana ahau. Ko te marae nei he ahua kowhatu, kei te tu tonu, engari ko etahi wahi kua ngahoro haere. Ko te roa o tenei ahu 150 ft. te whanui, tata ana ki te 30 putu te teitei o nga kowhatu o nga taha, 10 putu heke iho ana ki te 6 putu nga wa o mua, i tenei, tu mokemoke ana. 100 years te tawhiti ake i tenei ahu, e tu ana he kowhatu, ki taku titiro ake e 9 putu te teitei. Ko te ingoa o tenei mea ki nga kaumatua, ko te “ofai faito taata” kowhatu whakarite tangata. E kiia ana i nga wa o mua, ko tenei te marae i hui mai ai nga ariki, nga toa. me nga iwi o ia motu

ki te whakataetae i o ratou mahi huuhia noa, ana, ko te tangata e rite ana tona teitei ki tenei kowhatu, ka riro ko ia hei ariki. E 66 putu mai i tenei kowhatu ki te taha tai kei konei ano tetahi ahu, 120 putu te roa, 20 putu te whanui, e 3 e 4 putu ranei te teitei o nga kowhatu o nga taha. Kaore i tawhiti ake i tenei ahu i te taha tai ano. 75 ft te roa, 10 ft te whanui. Kei te taha o te huarahi e ahu ana ki te marae nei, he ahu ano. 100 ft te roa 80 ft te whanui, 3 ft te teitei o nga taha, i waenganui, ki ana i te kirikiri me te onepu. Ki taku titiro ake, 5 acres, a nuku atu pea te rahi ote whenua raorao e tu ana nga marae nei, te tahi whenua ataahua, te whenua e rongonuitia ana e te katoa “Taputapuatea”. Te marae i whakaarikitia nga ariki, i mana te korero, i hanga ia te ture, i akona nga akonga, puta ana nga tohunga me nga kai hautu waka, heke iho ana ko tatou i tenei ra.

I te ahiahi o te Rahoroi hoki ana ahau ki Uturoa, tutaki ana ki nga ngahau maha noa o tenei po.

TE VAITOA

Ite ata ote Turei, tiki ana ahau he waka moku, haere ana ahau i te taha hauauru ote motu mataki-taki haere ai. 10 o'clock tae atu ana ki te otinga ote huarahi, ko te Toa-roa, te ingoa ote wahi nei. kaore he whenua mania, he pari tu tonu. I ahau e hokiana. ki Uturoa, peka atu ana ahau ki te kite i te marae nei i a te Vaitoa, ka rawe hoki. 2 eka pea te rahi o tenei whenua, mania pai. Ko tenei marae te ahu kowhatu piri tonu ki te moana. 18 ft te roa, 8 ft te whanui. Te teitei me te whanui o e tahi o nga kowhatu e tae ki te 8 ft. Ka rahi tenei ahu. I patai ahau ki etahi tangata, he aha te ingoa o tenei whenua, te whakautu, ko Vaitoa te whenua, ko te marae ko Tainui. I tenei po e noho ana me te whakaaro “Kei whea te Pae Pae o Turi”.

I te ata, moata tonu taku ara, ki runga i taku waka, ko te whenua o Faaroa taku e whaia tia ana. Kotahi haora au e haere ana ka tae ki te whanga o Faaroa, oti ana te huarahi i konei, heere ana ahau ma raro. Ko taku mahi he patai atu ki nga iwi o te wahi nei, mea, kei whea te Pae Pae o Turi. He maha ratou kaore i mohio, waimarie taku tutakitanga ki etahi iwi mohio. na ratou te tohutohu mai, e kite ana koe ite hiwi teitei ra, kei te take tena marae, kei uta hohonu.

He roa ahau e haere ana i roto ngaherehere, ka tutaki ahau i etahi tangata, e rua, katahi ka me atu ahau, “E hoa ma he tauhou ahau ki konei, e rapu ana ahau ite Pae. Pae o Turi”, ka riro ko raua i kawe i ahau ki taua wahi. Ka nui te hari me te mihi o te ngakau i ahau ko tae mai nei ki te whenua a to tatou tupuna o Turi, whenua ataahua, whenua nui te Kai. E tupu nei te hari, uru, vi, mape, meia, papaia, me etahi atu o nga kai huhua noa. I ahua e tu nei, e titiro nei, hoki ana nga whakaaro ki te wa ia nehe ma, heke ana nga roimata, pupu mai ana te aroha, mihi na te ngakau.

Te whenua tumu e, kia ora ra, nga maunga poroporoaki, me nga awa whakatauaki, kia ora ra. Te Moana-nui-a-kiwa, kia ora ra, te iwi e tau nei, nga uri whakatupu o nehe ma i waiho tia ake hei takahi i nga takahanga waewae, kia ora ra.

I tenei ra kei te tu tonu te Pae Pae, 1 ft te teitei, 75 ft te roa, 35 ft te whanui, kei runga i te puke tenei Pae Pae whare, kei rero iho te awa e rere ana ki te moana. Tenei ra te kaenga i whakarerena atu ra e ratou ma, kauria ana te moana uri uri, u ana ko Aotearoa. No te mea ko to haere te ra, hoki ana ahau ki Uturoa, kua pouri tae atu ana.

He Ratapu tenei, he korerorero te mahi, na taku hoa i homai ki ahau he putiputi, me tana whakamarama mai, ko tenei tiare—putiputi, he tiare Apatahi, te tiare Tahiti, te tiare Apatahi kotahi enei. Kotahi te rereketanga, te tiare tahiti e wha ona rau, te tiare Apatahi, e rua. Ko te tiare Tahiti, e tupu ana i nga motu katoa, te tiare Apatahi, ko tenei anake te motu e tupu. Kaore e tupu i waahi noa iho, kotahi anake te waahi e tupu ai ki runga i te tihi o Temahani maunga. Ahakoa te whakamatau o tangata ki te whakatupu i whenua ke, kihai i tupu, no reira ka whakaa-ronui tia tenei tiare i enei motu katoa.

Ko te ata o te Mane tenei, e whanga ana i te manurererangi mai i te motu o Pora Pora, kei te ki te uahu i te tangata, kua timata te heke mai o te ua, me aku mihi kei te rere penei: E tangi e te ua, pupuhi ra e te hau, nga tohu aroha a o tatou tupuna. I ahau e piki atu ana i to matou manurere, ka rongo ahau i te karanga mai o aku hoa e maha, “Parahiraa e Ra-i e, aita e haamoe te ho-i faahou mai”—“Haere ra e Rangi e, kaua e wareware te hoki mai ano.”

Kua oti.

(Continued from page 47)

“You know—a tapu. When a person drowns the local Maori elders declare a place tapu or out of bounds until the body is found or for a certain time after the drowning. And you see,” he continued, speaking slowly as if to a child, “a girl was drowned last year at Watering Bay and the area was tapu. They never did find the body; only a bathing cap that could have belonged to a holiday-maker. But her mother claimed it was Moana's—that was the girl's name. Excuse me, looks like some business over there.”

And folding the grey cloth the barman had moved away to a chattering laughing group that had settled at the other end of the bar.

And so he had stood alone at the bar hearing again the surge of the sea and looking at a shell lying in the palm of his hand; a small white shell, smooth and rounded.

THE CHANGING LAND

A short history of New Zealand for children.

Michael Turnbull. Longmans. English price, 8s. Reviewed by W. H. Oliver.

Mr Turnbull, with the experience behind him of research and university teaching, and of work in the School Publications Branch, should have been the ideal person to write a textbook on New Zealand history for children—and indeed for two-thirds of its length, The Changing Land is far and away the best thing of its kind.

His chapters are seldom longer than about fifteen pages (and a good deal of space is taken up with Jill McDonald's admirable illustrations and less than admirable maps); each chapter is divided into sections often less than a page and seldom more than two pages long. Often these sections incorporate graphic incidents which illustrate a general truth about the course of New Zealand history—e.g. the story on pp. 23–5 of Wiremu Tamihana's conversion to Christianity, of his fear when faced by the tohunga and the whistling voice of the spirit, and of his renewed conversion.

Mr Turnbull has a sharp eye for the striking concrete detail which is likely to stick in the mind of the reader; he notes that wounds in classical Maori warfare quickly healed while musket balls stayed lodged in the victim's flesh, that Te Puni went visiting in Wellington in tophat and tails but took off his trousers to walk home to the Hutt, that during the floods Weld simply paddled his canoe through the window of his hut. Contemporary accounts are drawn upon with great skill: Manning's Old New Zealand, Studholme's Te Waimate, Lady Barker's books, Helen Wilson's My First Eighty Years, and a host of lesser known works. This is social history, but it is not (like so much social history) humdrum and dreary. Maori society, archaic and classical; the whalers, the missionaries, the sheepmen and the diggers; settler, soldier and tribesman in the 1860s—there is plenty that is both rich and strange emerging from their story.

In the earlier chapters, roughly covering the period to about 1880, the episodes and illuminating details are woven into a firmly moving narrative. Thereafter the author is much less at home with his material. The four chapters ostensibly running from about 1880 to the present day are almost entirely devoid of narrative. They are a random collection of episodes, many of them dealing with farming, many of them with the fate of the Maoris. The reason is not far to seek. In the later 19th century and the 20th, the central theme in New Zealand history is politics; before then the economic historian can afford to ignore politics just as much as contemporaries did: digging the soil and shearing the sheep were more important than voting, and didn't depend all that much on voting. But, beginning with Vogel, reinforced by the depression of the 1880s, and institutionalised by the Liberals after 1890, a change occurred by which digging and shearing, and all other economic operations, came to depend very much on voting and all the other aspects of politics.

The fact that Mr Turnbull ignores politics as resolutely in his later sections as he did in his earlier means a loss of coherence. We are told that the Liberals helped the small-scale farmer to get established, but not who the Liberals were. Much is made of McKenzie, but nothing is said of Seddon and Reeves until the very close of the book; Ward, more important than McKenzie, is not even mentioned. Ngata's land policies are mentioned at length, but not the Reform government

in which he worked, nor (in this connection) the Labour government which inherited his policies. Of Labour politicians Semple is mentioned, but not Fraser and Nash; nor are Massey and Coates allowed to figure, a strange omission in a book which lays such stress on the rise of the dairy and the fat-lamb farmers. The strangest omission of all—for the book lays great stress upon the Maori and race relations—is the Native Land Court of 1862 and the subsequent sale of Maori Lands. Instead the confiscations of 1863 assume a wholly exaggerated importance.

This is professedly an economic history, concerned with how men got their living. It is the orthodox contemporary view in educational circles that children are better taught about food and farming, industries and trade unions, crops, fertilizers and freezing works, than about battles, heroic exploits and striking individuals. I do not subscribe to this view myself, but if it is to be imposed upon the children then it's as well that it be done by someone with Mr Turnbull's eye for the striking and the singular. Up to about 1870 he manages to make economic and social history exciting. I should like a good deal more blood and thunder for my own children. War parties, whalers, diggers and sheep men are well enough. But, as well as Orakau, I should like my children to meet up with Kereopa and Volkner at Opotiki (there's quite enough in the book to show how unpleasant the pakeha could be); I should like them to share Cook's zeal for discovery; to face an angry or an enthusiastic audience with Seddon; to ride with Massey's strike-breakers in 1913 and to see the plate glass shattering in Queen Street in 1932; to feel the exhilaration which swept the country in 1935–6; to fear the Japanese in 1942. And so on. I fear they might, reading this book, grow weary of following farmers up clay roads to muddy farms, weary of the cow bail, the shearing shed, the top-dressed pasture and the dairy factory.

But where so much is given, it is a bit churlish to complain that it is not more. This book, especially the first hundred pages, is admirably alive.

HISTORIC BAY OF ISLANDS

By A. H. Reed, illustrated by John H. Alexander. A. H. and A. W. Reed.

Reviewed by Katherine Lloyd.

The appearance recently of Historic Bay of Islands by John H. Alexander and text by A. H. Reed will, I am sure, be welcomed by all who see it. There have been many publications of this beautiful part of New Zealand over the years and I consider this to be, of its kind, one of the best. There are one or two inaccuracies in the script—these I understand have been noted.

Newcomers to this delightful and historic area look for something they can take away—something concise, arresting—something to make them enquire further—not too large, and reasonably priced. This seems to be the answer. The illustrations are immediately arresting—they are bold and decisive. The good print and paper make it easily read. The cover too is most attractive.

I look forward to obtaining Historic Wellington which I feel sure I'll enjoy as much, and I trust these two are but forerunners of many others.

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DRIVE FOR FUNDS

Old students of Te Aute College and Hukarere Girls' School are to be approached for donations as part of a drive for funds to relieve difficulties being experienced by both schools. The appeal has been launched by a commitee of four old boys of Te Aute—Mr T. T. Ropiha, Mr H. M. Tatere, Mr A. T. Carroll and Mr W. T. Ngata—with Mr L. R. Lewis, a member of the Te Aute Trust Board. The target is £15,000. Committee members have recently made an extensive tour of the area from Rotorua to Hastings to organise fund-raising drives. For many years, the Te Aute Trust Board, which administers both Te Aute and Hukarere, has had difficulties in meeting financial commitments for the two schools. An endowment of about 7,000 acres has produced a reasonable income, but long-standing setbacks such as the fire at Te Aute and the damage both schools sustained in the 1931 earthquake have proved too big a hurdle for the Trust to surmount. It is estimated that an expenditure of £20,000 is required to bring the two schools up to the standard of schools administered by the State.

An approach has been made to the Maori Purposes Fund Board and the Board has agreed to subsidise the results of the appeal on a pound for pound basis up to a maximum of £5,000. The organisers of the appeal and the Bishop of Waiapu believe it is essential that £5,000 be raised within the next few months so that, with the Maori Purposes Fund Board's subsidy, £10,000 will be available for an immediate start on the project.

MAORI ACTION SONGS

By Alan Armstrong and Reupena Ngata.
(A. H. & A. W. Reed, Publishers. Price 12/6)
Reviewed by Horowai Ngarimu

Maori Action Songs by Alan Armstrong and Reupena Ngata has made its appearance at a time when New Zealanders are showing an increasing interest in Maori culture. The work is an honest attempt to bring the Action Song within reach of the average person who has little knowledge of Maori culture, but who has a desire to learn.

With words and musical notation, diagrams and explanatory notes, the student has an opportunity to learn by following the instructions set out in the book. However, one would need to familiarise oneself with the key, before learning a single action song, otherwise confusion will result. A learner could easily become frustrated if he has to continually turn pages to find out the correct action, as the key extends from page 11 to page 19.

Two people working together would be likely to meet more success in learning these action songs, than one person who has to co-ordinate all movements, while simultaneously reading instructions and concentrating on words and music.

The liberal use of diagrams is a help, as visual aids can so often achieve more than the written words. Although the subject matter is not easy to explain, the compilers of this work have achieved something of value. This is important in view of the desirability of stimulating interest in Maori culture as part of the New Zealand way of life.

Mr Armstrong and Mr Ngata have included a concert programme with hints on production, and it is both practical and impressive. This has obviously been drawn from first hand experience. The Glossary provides interesting material for the student of Maori culture.

One is aware of the real effort that has been made in attempting to record and comment on a difficult subject. To those who are interested in Maori culture, Maori Action Songs is well worth studying, and the authors have made an important contribution towards satisfying the need on this subject. It is hoped that this publication will inspire more Maoris to follow this example and set down in book form their favourite action songs from their own tribal areas.

SECRETARY TO MINISTER

Mr Wiremu Tuakana Ngata, a son of the late Sir Apirana Ngata, has been appointed private secretary to the Minister of Maori Affairs, Hon. J. R. Hanan. Sir Apirana was for some years a Native Minister. Mr Ngata, who has been editor of the Maori text of Te Ao Hou since its first issue, will continue to perform his duties for the magazine in his new position. Te Ao Hou congratulates Mr Ngata on his promotion.

PETER GORDON

Mr Peter Gordon, of the Department of External Affairs, has been posted to Bangkok, Thailand, where he took up his duties last April. A farewell to Mr Gordon was held at Poho-o-Rawiri, Gisborne, prior to his departure. Among those present were the Mayor and Mayoress of Gisborne, Mr and Mrs H. Barker, and Mr Gray, Rector of Gisborne Boys' High School. Speeches of farewell were made by Messrs H. te Kani te Ua, M. Pohotu, P. Kaua, W. Kerekere, Barker. Gray, and Mr Gordon replied. Mr Gordon has taken up his post as third secretary to the New Zealand Embassy in Bangkok, and part of his work will be to assist tourists in Bangkok.

OLD MAORI HOUSE RESTORED

A tribute to New Zealand generosity appeared in a newspaper of the National Trust issued in London. The letter reports the restoration of the Maori house in the gardens of Clandon Park in the south of England made possible by the generosity of the New Zealand Government, the joint New Zealand shipping lines, the National Bank and the Bank of New Zealand. The Maori people themselves supplied the roof timbers shipped from New Zealand. The Maori house was an 18th century building at Wairoa. The eruption of a volcano badly damaged the dwelling and it remained half-buried for several years until the fourth Earl of Onslow, who was Governor-General at the time, had the debris transported to Clandon in 1886.

It has been restored as nearly as possible to the original construction, with a thatched roof. Some carving and decoration still has to be done.

CHIEF JUDGE RETIRES

The retirement of Chief Judge D. G. B. Morison of the Maori Land Court was commemorated at a farewell function held for the Chief Judge in the Ngati-Poneke Social Hall. Mr J. K. Hunn, Secretary for Maori Affairs, said of Chief Judge Morison's retirement that it was the end of an era for the Court. The first half of Chief Judge Morison's term of office was characterised by stability, and the second by the consolidation of reforms introduced in 1953, Mr Hunn said. He was the personification of the qualities that went to make a good Chief Judge. He had a fatherly presence, rugged character, unruffled courtesy and modest equanimity. The Minister for Maori Affairs (Mr Hanan) said that since he took office he had been struck by the respect shown by the Maori people for the Maori Land Court and that that was due to the high calibre of the men who had graced it. In the last 98 years there had been only nine Chief Judges, and all had left their mark. Chief Judge Morison had been dealing with living Maori history and the shape of things to come would depend on wisdom applied largely by reason of the great precedents created by past and present judges. A man's work was his monument, and here it was imprinted on the minds and hearts of the Maori people. In reply, Chief Judge Morison said he had always enjoyed the association the Court had with Maoris, both young and old. The Court was an old institution and it was different from other Courts where judges probably never saw the same people again. A judge of the Maori Land Court got to know the people in his district, knew what they were doing with their land, and followed their families along.

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OYSTERS

It may surprise many pecple to know that Maoris enjoy special privileges with rock oysters. They have their own beds from which they are allowed to pick what they want for their own use, but not for sale or barter. There is one Maori oyster bed in the Manakau district, near the Needles, and it is marked as a Maori fishery. Other areas are at Jones Peninsula in Whangaroa Harbour, part of the foreshore in the Mangonui Inlet, part of Whangaruru Harbour, and several areas in Kaisara Harbour. Picking is allowed only in the normal oyster season. Of all the Maori beds. that in Whangaruru Harbour is in the best condition Maori leaders exercise control over picking.

CHOICE OF MEAT DISHES

A survey made of the cross section of the families under the Kaikohe Scheme confirms that they have a very high starch diet. Fatty meat, vegetables of high starch content (potatoes, pumpkin, kumeras, sweet corn, and maize). They are heavy bread eaters, and in addition are fond of doughboys (dumplings) made solely from flour.

How often do we see a Maori garden plot consisting mainly of potatoes, kumeras, sweet corn (and occasionally cabbages) with such vegetables as lettuce, beans, peas, carrots and tomatoes being absent. I consider that the families should be encouraged to extend their gardens to include these items as it is possible to literally live off a garden during the summer months, and at the same time be able to store away sufficient potatoes and kumeras for the winter months.

In choosing meats, the likes and dislikes of the older members of the family are often given priority over those of the younger members. How much easier it is to entice the younger members to eat, if the diet is varied from day to day, with emphasis on the softer types of dishes, soup, stew with roast meat and gravy.

Set out below is a list of meat dishes giving a family variation and value.

Roast Dishes: Roast mutton, roast beef, roast stuffed mutton flap with gravy. These meats could be used the following day cold, and again the following day the roast beef could be made up in a Scottish pie or rissoles.

Stews and Soups: Steak and kidney stew or pie. Stews made up from mutton neck or flank. With these stews could be added peas, beans, carrots, onions and potatoes.

Soup: Made from knuckle bone and shin. Fish soup made from fish heads and bones.

A typical meat order for a week for a family of two adults and three children, costing approx. 25/-to 30/-, could consist of the following:

Saturday: Roast beef and gravy/roast mutton and gravy/roast stuffed mutton flap.

Sunday: Left over roast and gravy. Gravy is saved from the Saturday and warmed up. (This is very effective.)

Monday: Cottage pie with remaining meat or rissoles.

Tuesday: Steak and kidney stew with vegetables added, or stew made of mutton neck or flap.

Wednesday: Knuckle bone or shin bone soup with vegetables added.

Thursday: Sausages or mince with vegetables.

Friday: Fish soup or fried fish.

WHAT FAMILIES OVERSPEND ON

(1) Tinned Foods: Maori families are great buyers of tinned foods. As well as being costly, they are mainly of low nutrient value. How often do we find a family buying two tins of corned meat, costing 8/8, from which they make a stew. How much easier, cheaper and of greater food value it is to buy 1 ½lb of blade bone steak of exactly half the cost.

Tinned Fish: They should be encouraged to buy fresh fish and fish heads to fry or make soup.

Tinned Milk: The sale of sweet condensed milk and Ideal Milk in the town is high. The better and cheaper way of buying milk is full cream dried milk powder for the younger members of the family and dried skim milk powder for the older members.

Biscuits and Cake: Generally speaking, the Maori is not fond of rich fruit cake, but is a heavy buyer of plain biscuits and cake. A pound of plain biscuits costs 3/-, whereas a 21b block of home-made chocolate cake (without eggs) would cost in the vicinity of 1/6 to 2/-.

A bad habit among the Maori families is to buy from day to day, with the result that, being low in stores at the weekend, they frequent the milk-bars. It is only natural to expect that the cost of food items purchased in the weekend from the milk-bars is higher than the purchases from the grocer during the week. For this reason they should be encouraged to make out shopping lists, and as much as possible limit their buying to two or three days a week.