Hera Hamlin

One of the oldest Maori women in Hawke's Bay, Mrs Hera Hamlin died on 10 December last, aged 90.

She was born at Poukawa, and lived in Hawke's Bay all her life.

Mrs Hamlin was predeceased by her husband, Charles Taneha Hamlin, Waipatu, and is survived by her only son Jerry.

Arthur Grace

Mr Arthur Te Takinga Grace, a highly respected Maori leader died suddenly in Taupo on 4 December, 1967.

Aged 78, Mr Grace had devoted his life to the welfare of the Tuwharetoa people. He was born at Turangi, and educated at Te Aute College.

A member of the Tuwharetoa Trust Board, Mr Grace was a mediator and negotiator of outstanding ability, and was a leader in the moves to develop Maori land and timber resources.

In his younger days he was a prominent rugby player and was a member of the Maori team in the famous match against the 1921 Springbok side.

He is survived by his wife and their son Mr Elwin Grace.

Deane Waretini

One of New Zealand's best known singers of 40 years ago, Deane Waretini, died in Rotorua last December.

A member of the Tuhourangi tribe, Deane joined his cousin Ana Hato in 1926 and they became one of the most popular duos in the country, making many recordings.

Deane had shown great promise as a student at Te Aute College, but illness forced him to give up study and he became a farmer at Parekarangi. He was well known in the district and often went to Rotorua to join Ana in charity concerts or when Te Arawa welcomed distinguished visitors.

Father Zangerl

Well over 400 people gathered at Pawarenga last November to pay their last respects to a well-loved priest.

Born in Austria 84 years ago, Father Zangerl came to New Zealand after his ordination in 1906. He had spent six months in Yugoslavia before coming, as he was to work among Dalmatians in the gum fields.

After service at Purakau, Waitoreke and Rotorua, he went to Pawarenga in 1916, where he was to stay for the rest of his life.

An acknowledged linguist, he wrote the Maori missal and translated the Catholic litany into Maori.

Rangi Williams

A popular Maori entertainer, Mrs Rangi Here-here Williams of Ranana, was laid to rest early in January at Otorohanga after a service at Te Kuiti marae.

Mrs Williams was for many years a well known personality of the Wanganui River Road, where she ran a farm with another Maori woman, Miss Polly Teki.

A gifted organiser, Mrs Williams fully supported all community projects and was responsible for the success of many concert parties and cultural groups.

Taunatapu Roach

A great lady of the Taranaki tribes and one of the most knowledgeable historians of the West Coast, Mrs Taunatapu Annie Roach died at New Plymouth on 17 January, aged 72, and was buried at Opunake.

With her husband, the late William Puri Roach, Mrs Roach gave an example of pride of race, skill in ancient crafts and a firm belief in the value of education and a completely integrated community. Their family of six daughters and five sons have accepted and used to the full the educational opportunities available, being trained as nurses, school teachers, farmers and businessmen.

Wi Anaru

Mr Wi Anaru, who was in command of the New Zealand Maori occupational troops in Japan after World War II, died in Rotorua on 17 January aged 60.

A life member of the Rotorua R.S.A. and president of Te Arawa Returned Servicemen's League, Mr Anaru enlisted in the 28th New Zealand Maori Battalion, and served in Greece, Crete and Libya.

A keen rugby player in his youth, Mr Anaru was for three years a selector for the Rotorua Rugby Union and was president of the Waikite Rugby Club.

He is survived by his wife and an adopted son.

William Keys

The untimely death in January of Mr William Keys at the age of 37, saw the passing of an outstanding Maori sportsman.

On his mother's side he was the descendant of distinguished ancestors, both Maori and Pakeha. His Maori forbears were of the Ngapuhi tribe, and he was the great-great-grandson of Judge Manning, author of ‘Old New Zealand’ and other early historical works. From his father he inherited Manx blood, with a long and honoured history in the Isle of Man.

Mr Keys was born at Kohukohu, Northland, and received all his education at Taumarunui.

At the age of 15 he won the N.Z. Maori tennis singles championship at Ngaruawahia, shared the men's doubles with his older brother Fred, and the mixed doubles with his mother, Mrs Ada Keys. He successfully defended his singles and doubles titles for several years, and also competed with success at the N.Z. Open Junior championships.

Mr Keys was also an outstanding rugby player and was well above average at golf, snooker and billiards, A rugby injury eventually forced him to discontinue all strenuous sporting activities.

Prior to the start of the N.Z. Maori tennis championships at Rotorua this year, competitors and officials observed a minute's silence as a mark of respect to the late Mr Keys.

He leaves a wife and three children.

—E. R. Clark

Maori Sport

Taumarunui is becoming recognised as a centre for Maori sport. Responsible for this to a large extent, is the King Country Maori Sports Association, set up at Taumarunui five years ago.

Early criticism of the association was based on the effect that ‘Maori only’ sporting activities could have on the advocated integration of Maori and Pakeha. But the Association's stated aim was to encourage Maori players to compete in their own tournaments, gain confidence and then enter in open events. It claims that it has already achieved success along these lines. The first venture was the King Country Maori tennis championships, and 80 competitors took part from many parts of the King Country. A team was sent to the New Zealand championships, brought out of recess at Wairoa by Sir Turi Carroll, the same year.

Miss Hine Peni returned to Taumarunui with the women's singles title, which she regained this year at the 1968 championships at Rotorua. She also shared the women's doubles with her sister Kaheta, and the team won the district shield.

Three years ago the association was host for the New Zealand Maori junior championships at Taumarunui.

Last year the King Country championships were made open and a large Arawa contingent took part. Visitors from other centres also helped to make up the field of over 100.

The next sport the association sponsored was table tennis and again the first King Country closed championships drew huge entries. The next year the tournament was made open, then two years ago the association obtained the authority of the New Zealand Table Tennis Association to sponsor the first ever New Zealand Maori table tennis championships. Once again, entries came from as far afield as Wellington and Whangarei.

Gisborne arranged the second New Zealand championships last year, so that the sport on a national basis for Maori players seems assured.

Expanding further, the association ran, five years ago, the first King Country Maori Indoor Basketball Championships. Visiting teams from Ngaruawahia, Whakatane, Waiouru and Waitara made up the total of 12 teams.

The two-day fixture gained in popularity until last year it was necessary to refuse entries after the total of 20 had taxed the facilities for playing to the very limit.

Although run by a separate organisation, the King Country Maori golf championships

continued on page 22

ākuhata 27, 1850

I te pō o te 27 o ākuhata ka takoto au ki tōku moenga. Ka whakaaro au ki ngā mea mō tōku haerenga atu ki a te Kāwana; ko ngā mea ērā i mahara ai au, kia nui ai ngā kupu e mōhiotia e au mō tana uinga mai ki ahau. Muri iho, ka kamo ōku kanohi.

Ka kite au i ētahi tāngata me te kurī anō e haere tahi ana i a rātou. Kāore au i āta mōhio atu he Pākehā rānei tēnā hunga nei, he Māori rānei. Ka mea mai ki ahau, kia whawhai mātou.

Ka mea atu ahau, ‘Kāhore, kua mutu ērā tikanga kino o mua. Erangi ko tēnei, me āta whakarite, ka whawhai ai tātou.’

Ka mea mai rātou, ‘Haere mai, me tuhituhi

August 27, 1850

On the night of the 27th August I lay on my bed thinking about the things which I would be visiting the Govern. - to discuss; I was pondering these matters so that I might have much to tell him when he questioned me. After a while my eyes closed.

I saw some men walking along with a dog. I could not clearly distinguish whether these people were Pakeha or Maori. They said to me, ‘Let us fight!’

I said, ‘No, those evil customs of former days are ended. Let us instead carefully discuss the matter. We can fight later.’

They said, ‘Let a document be written;

he pukapuka; muri iho ka whawhai ai tātou.’

A, tuhituhi ana, ka oti. Kātahi ka riri mātou. Ka mea mai rātou, ‘Kia tokotoru o mātou e mate, ka tukua atu ai tā mātou kurī hei kai i a koe āianei.’

Ka mea atu ahau, ‘E pai ana. Tēnā, tātou ka riri!’

Ka peke mai tētahi, ka hinga te toki ki tōku pane. Takua atu e au, tangohia atu, ēhara, mate rawa. Ka peke mai tētahi, tangohia atu, mate rawa. Ka peke mai tētahi me te kurī hoki. Ehara, kua tata mai ki ahau taua kurī nei. Tukua atu e au tērā, kātahi i rere mai anō kau ngā niho kei tōku ringa māui. Kātahi ka pangaa atu tāku toki kau kei te pane o te kurī, Heoi, ka mutu tēnei riringa.

Ka huihui ki te ākau o te moana, ka noho ki runga o te arawhata, ki raro anō hoki. Ka kite au i ngā tēpu e tū ana me ngā pepa anō, me ngā pene anō, me ngā oko mangumangu. Ka mea mai tētahi, ‘E hoa, e Maihi, me haere atu koe ki te taha o tērā tēpu, ki reira koe tuhituhi ai i ōu tikanga mō te whawhai kua mutu nei me tēnei whawhai hoki ka maranga nei āianei.’

Ka mea atu au, ‘Mō te aha hoki tēnei ka maranga nei?’

Ka mea mai, ‘Mō ērā kua mate i a koe me te kurī hoki, nā reira ka whakatika hoki ōna whanaunga kia patua rawatia koe hei utu mō ērā atu.’

Ka mea ahau, ‘E pai ana.’

Ka rite ēnei kupu; tuhituhi rawa e ahau, e rātou hoki. Kātahi au ka mea atu, ‘Tokohia o koutou hei hoa whawhai mōku āianei?’

Ka mea mai rātou, ‘Kia tokowhā e mate i a koe, hei reira ka tukua atu he kurī kē atu i tērā atu i mate rā hei kai i a koe. Tēnā. tuhituhia!’

Ka oti te tuhituhi. Kātahi ka peke mai tētahi atu, ka hinga te patu; tukua atu e au, ka hemo—pangaa atu tāku toki, ēhara, mate rawa. Peke mai ko tētahi, tukua atu e au, ka taha te rākau; makanga atu tāku, ū tonu.

He mea matakite tēnei nō te pō, he moemoeā.

He kurī te mea i patua ai, a, ko te whaka-hauhau tēnei o taua kurī i te patunga ai e ahau. Ko ngā Pākehā i patua i te tuatahi, kāore he whakahauhau i ērā; i patua huhua-koretia ērā e au.

E te Kāwana e,
Ehara i ahau.

afterwards we will fight.’

And so it was written, and was finished Then we fought. They said to me, ‘If three of us die, we will straight away let loose our dog to attack you.’

I said, ‘Very well. Let us fight!’

One of them sprang at me, swinging his axe at my head. I dodged the blow and disarmed him—he died! Another one leapt forward; I disarmed him, and he died. The other man leapt at me, and so did the dog—the dog was almost upon me! I dodged the man, but then the dog flew at me again and seized my left hand in its jaws. Then my axe smashed down on the dog's head, and the battle was over.

After this we came together at the edge of the ocean; some were on a bridge, and some were below it. I saw tables standing there, with paper and pens and inkwells. One of them said, ‘My friend Maihi, go to that table and write your views on the battle that has just finished, and this other battle that is about to begin.’

I asked, ‘What will be the cause of this next battle?’

He said, ‘It will be fought over those whom you killed, together with the dog. The relatives of those men will arise to destroy you, in revenge for their death.’

I said, ‘Very well.’

These things were done; I wrote, and so did they. Then I said, ‘How many of you will be fighting me this time?’

They said, ‘If you kill four of us, another dog, a different one from that which died, will be let loose to attack you. Come on, write it down!’

Then the writing was finished. Another man leapt towards me, swinging his club. I dodged the blow, and he died—my axe came down, and he was dead! Another came at me; I jumped aside, and his weapon missed me. Then I swung my weapon, and it found its mark.

This is a vision of the future which came to me from the spirit world, in the form of a dream.

As for the dog that I killed, it had been commanded to attack me. The Pakehas whom I killed in the first battle had not been commanded to attack me: they were killed unnecessarily.

O Governor
It is not my doing,
It is both of us

Nā tāua tahi
I kawe ki waenga te tahora
Ki reira kukume mai ai—
Kii ki-i-a-a!

Nā Wiremu Maihi tēnei matakite.

Mea ake pea he patunga nā te Māori ki te Pākehā; a. nā te Pākehā pea ki te Māori, nā te Māori anō rānei ki ā rāua whakamāori anō.

Tēnei anō te takoto mai nei kei mua; mea ake pea ka rite tēnei moemoeā.

Who took it into the wilderness
There to drag it about—
Kii ki-a-a!

This visionary song is by Wiremu Maihi.

It may be that soon the Maori will be attacking the Pakeha, or else the Pakeha will be attacking the Maori; either may be considered the aggressor, according to which side is interpreting the matter.

This is what lies ahead. Soon, this dream may become a reality.

Anā he kōrero Māori atu ēnei nāku ki a koutou, ki ngā tāngata o Hawaiki, kia mōhio mai koutou ki ēnā kōrero.

Whakarongo mai! Ki te mea e hē ana ētahi o ēnā kōrero o mua, whakatikaia mai ngā wāhi i hē, tā te mea kei a koutou te tikanga o ngā kōrero tika, kei te mea i mahue atu ki runga i te kāinga tupu.

He aha mā te hunga i kawea mai te whakamataku o te whawhai? I hokia noatia atu, ka ca te mate, ko Ihumotomotokia.

Anā, whakahētia mai hoki ēnā kupu e koutou. Engari, e hoa mā, ki te pai koutou ki te tuhituhi mai, tīkina atu ki te take haere mai ai tā koutou tuhituhi, ā, tae noa mai hoki ki te wehenga o te rangi, o te whenua, ki te tupunga hoki o te tangata ki te ao mārama. Me ngā mahi hoki a Māui mā, a Tūhuruhuru, a Tāwhaki, a Whakatauihu, a wai, a wai tangata o mua atu, tae noa mai ki a Toi mā, me te pokai tara a Manaia, me te pōporo whakamarumaru o Uenuku, me te hekenga mai ki tēnei motu. Whakaaturia anaketia mai e koutou te hēnga, te tikanga o āku kōrero.

Otira, me i rokohanga mai e Māui ahau ki runga o Rotorua, e āta tika te kōrero atu ki a koutou, kei reira anō ngā tino mōhio e noho ana. Tēnā, i rokohanga mai au ki Ākarana, ki te kāinga i noho ai ngā Pākehā me te Kāwana.

A, i puta atu ahau i te whare tuhituhi o te Kāwana, ka kite ahau i a Māui Tione, he tangata nō Hawaiki nā. Ka ui atu ahau ki

This is an account written in Maori to you, the people of Hawaiki, to acquaint you with these matters.

Pay heed to my words! If any of these his tories of former times are incorrect, you must inform me of the errors, for the true versions are with you who were left behind in our first home.

For what reason did those people bring hither the fearfulness of war? When we consider the origin of the matter, [the first] revenge was gained at [the battle of] Ihumotomotokia.

Be sure to tell me of any mistakes in what I say. But, friends, if you are willing to write to me, go back and begin your story with the origin of things, then go on to tell of the separation of the heaven and the earth, and of man's coming forth into the light of this world. Also of the deeds of Maui and his fellows, of Tuhuruhuru, Tawhaki, Whakatauihu and all those other men of former times, right down to the days of Toi and his companions; and of Manaia's host of warriors, the sheltering poporo tree of Uenuku, and the migration to this land. You must let me know which parts of my stories are correct, and which are mistaken.

If Maui had chanced to meet me at Rotorua, the accounts given to you would have been quite correct, for that is where the real experts live. But he met me in Auckland, at the home of the Pakehas and of the Governor.

I was coming out of the Governor's office when I saw Maui Tione, a man from Hawaiki. I questioned him, saying that with his dark

taua tangata, he titiro atu nōku ki te āhua pango mai, e kī ana ahau, he wāhu nō Marikena rānei. Ui rawa atu ahau, e mea mai ana, ‘Ehara ahau i te wāhu i Marikena. Nō Hawaiki kē ahau.’

Kātahi ahau ka ui atu ki a ia ki ngā tikanga o tēnā kāinga, o Hawaiki. Kātahi ia ka mea mai ki ahau, ‘E hiahia ana anō ahau ki te kōrero atu ki a koe, mehemea i haere kaumātua mai ahau. Tēnā hoki rā, i haere iti mai au ki runga ki te kaipuke Pākehā, a, e kore au e tino mōhio atu.’

He tīpokapoka tōku mōhio ki aua tikanga o mua, tā te mea i rongo ake au e kōrero ana tōku pāpā, a, e mea ana hoki kia rapua mai ngā tikanga o ngā tūpuna i haere mai i Hawaiki nā, kia kōrerotia atu e ō konei mōhio.

Kātahi ahau ka kōrero atu, me te whakarongo mai anō taua korokē nei. A, mutu rawa, kātahi ka puta mai tāna kupu whakapai ki tōku mōhiotanga ki te whakahua atu i te ingoa o Toitehuatahi, o Māuipōtiki, o Tamateakaiariki, me te whaea o Māui mā, me te pāpā hoki. Kātahi ia ka mea mai ki ahau, ‘Ina nā, ko ngā kupu i rongo nei ahau, me tuhituhi katoa e koe ki tētahi pukapuka, a, māku e kawe atu ki Hawaiki ki tōku iwi, ki ōku mātua, ki ōku tuākana, ki tōku kāinga, kia rongo i āu kōrero, a, kia koa mai ai ō rātou nei ngākau ki āu kōrero, ē, ka kite rātou.’

Anā, koia ahau i rongo ai ki tana whakahaunga mai kia tuhituhia atu ēnā kupu, kia haria atu e ia ki a koutou; a, tuhituhia ana e au ngā pukapuka mā te Kāwana, me te mea ki a ia.

Otirā, i ngā rā noho ai au i roto i tōku whare tuhituhi, ka hōmai e ia e whā ngā hereni, e toru tūpeka, kotahi te rōria, kotahi te paipa; a, mīharo ana ahau ki tōna atawhai ki te hōmai noa mai i āna mea māku. Kāore hoki te tangata Pākehā e pēnei, erangi ko māua nei, ko te Māori, i rite ki tēnei tangata te atawhai.

A, mea atu ahau ki taua tangata nei, ‘Ki te tae koe ki tōu kāinga, ki Hawaiki, ina hoki i rongo atu nei au i tāu kōrero he kaipuke anō tō koutou: a, ki te tae koe ki reira, mea atu ki oū whanaunga kia hōmai tō koutou kaipuke hei uta kai mai māku, kia kai atu au i ngā kai o te kāinga i heke mai nei ō tātou tūpuna o mua.

Erangi koutou e noho ana i runga i te oneone …

skin, I imagined that he must be a black man from America.

In reply to my question, he said, ‘No, I am not a black man from America. I come from Hawaiki.’

Then I asked him to tell me all about this place, Hawaiki. He said to me, ‘If I had come as an elder, I should certainly have wished to discuss these matters with you. But I came only a humble capacity, on board a Pakeha ship, and I don't know very much.’

I have a partial knowledge of those early times, for I heard my father speaking of them; he also said that we should seek further information about the ancestors who came from Hawaiki, so that this could be discussed by our learned men.

I spoke of these matters, while the fellow listened. When I had finally finished he congratulated me, praising the knowledge with which I had recited the names of Toi-te-huatahi, Maui-potiki, Tamatea-kai-ariki, and the mother and father of Maui and his brothers. Then he said to me, ‘You must write an account of all these things that I have just heard, and I will take it to Hawaiki: to my people, my parents and elders, and my elder brothers and cousins—to my home; so that they will hear your traditions and their hearts will rejoice at them, and they will understand.

So I heeded his urging that I should write these things so that they could be conveyed to you, and I also wrote a similar account for the Governor.

During the time that I was at the office, he gave me four shillings, three figs of tobacco, a jew's harp and a pipe; I marvelled at the generosity with which he presented me with so many of his possessions. The Pakehas are not at all like this, though we, the Maori people, are as generous as this man.

I said to him, ‘You have told me that you and your relatives own a ship. When you return home to Hawaiki, ask for your ship to be loaded with food for me, so that I may eat the food of the place from which our ancestors came in former times.’

You, on the other hand, dwell on the soil …

on now over many, many long years of time.’

As the old man finished his story he dived into the sea and disappeared in the surf.

‘Come back! Come back!’ called Tahu, standing in the waves and searching for a sign of the old fellow. His white head did not appear, but away out at sea a strange sea-creature was playing. It leapt above the waves, then plunged in again. As it twisted and turned the sunlight glinted on its shiny scales. At last Tahu saw it cut through a roller and glide back toward the beach.

Fascinated, he watched as the old man rose from the sea.

‘So you are the taniwha-man?’

‘Yes. It is I who am the last of the taniwha. Remember that I was always a friend to children. Many times I have lain at the bottom of your river and listened to you at play. I have been afraid to show myself because the children would be afraid.’

‘Yes,’ answered Tahu. ‘It is sad, but we would have been afraid, and we would not have swum there again. Even now, if I tell the others, they may try to kill you. But I would like to see you again. May I see you next year on the day you are a man?’

‘Yes, but you must have the piece of greenstone, so that Tangaroa understands you mean me no harm.’

‘I shall come. Do you know which day it will be?’

‘No. That is the hard part,’ said the old man. ‘I don't know until Tangaroa tells me. You will have to come every day. And now you must go, or the tide will turn and I shall not get back.’

They held hands and walked into the water. Tahu kept his eyes open as he dived. He thought he saw the man's legs turn into a long scaly tail. And the hand in his, he now realised, became a flipper like a seal's. Soon, however, they were moving along so fast that he had to shut his eyes. In no time at all they were once more in the cave of roaring waters, and then they were racing down, into ever-darkening depths. For a time he felt the sandy bottom as they dashed along, and then the scaly tail swished his legs and he was plummeted upwards, right out of the water onto the sand by the river-pool.

Tahu flicked back his damp hair, and looked across at the rock. It was quite dry. The sun was hot and high above. Only the faintest ripple disturbed the surface of the pool. He could see no old man, no taniwha … But in

his hand lay the perfect piece of greenstone, limpid and smooth and beautiful.

‘Tahu! Tahu!’ he heard his mother calling. She was walking in his direction, gathering driftwood. Slowly he got up and went to meet her.

That night Tahu hid his greenstone in a special place. Through the winter months, whenever he could escape from the others, he looked at it and polished it on his arm.

All the next summer when he swam with the other children in the pool, he took his greenstone and hid it out of sight of the others. Some days he swam alone and there was no sign of his friend.

One day in midsummer, Tahu went early to the pool with his greenstone, hoping to be alone. The air was very hot, and he found Tiria, Jimmie and Kath already there.

‘Come in, Tahu,’ they said. ‘Try to get to the bottom.’

Tahu took his place on the rock behind the others. First Tiria dived. Then it was Kath's turn. As she bent forward, she flicked back her long arms. Her fingers caught the back of Tahu's hand, and he felt the lovely smooth pendant slip from his grasp and drop into the pool.

Tahu knew that it was gone forever, although he dived for it again and again.

Every day through the summer he went to the pool, but the taniwha-man did not come back.

Sometimes, at home, Tahu's mother says, ‘You should not swim in that pool; a taniwha lives there.’

‘Nonsense,’ her husband says. ‘Haven't they all swum there? And who has come to harm?’

Only Tahu knows that in a way they are both right, and at times he begins to wonder if he dreamt it all. He goes every day to the pool in the river, just in case one dreamy afternoon when the sea-water is blue and beautiful and the sun high and hot, Tangaroa will decide the time has come for the last of the taniwha to come back to the land.

End of an Era

The 1967 Centennial celebrations mark the end of an era in the history of New Zealand education. The Minister of Education, acting on the advice of the National Committee on Maori Education announced that Maori schools would be transferred from Education Department control to Board control. The transfer would be complete by the beginning of the 1969 school year. The most important consequence of the School Board take-over, the Minister foresees, is an improvement in the quality of Maori education because existing educational resources administered by the

Mr M. Makiha, tribal elder of Tuhourangi, giving the baptismal ring to the memorial bell commemorating 100 years of Maori Schools service.

It is as well, however, to heed the warning

continued on page 43

A group of old pupils from Ngati Porou and Whanau-a-Apanui districts pictured with their Arawa host. Haratia Rogers.

Mrs A. Heke. Henderson, pouring tea for an early arrival. Mr C. Heke of Mangamuka.

Te Hokowhitu a Tu Association held its annual reunion at Mangere this year. The World War I veterans began assembling on Friday, 9 February, and the Annual General Meeting was held the following day.

Plays Softball for New Zealand

Darcy Rikihana doesn't want anything to do with this pitch during a game at Wellington on 10 February between a ‘New Zealand’ team and the visiting San Antonians softball team from Texas. U.S.A.

The visitors won this game 4–1 but Darcy won a place in the full New Zealand team that played the tourists at Auckland on February 18.

A member of a prominent sporting family in the Manawatu, Darcy Rikihana is one of the many Maori stalwarts of the Huia Chiefs club that has dominated local softball for years. The club has several times won its way into inter-provincial finals for the national club championship. It is noted for ousting fancied teams from Wellington and Hutt Valley. Among its scalps are the well known Broadway club, that has won the national championships six times.

Chosen Miss Canterbury

When 19-year-old Aroha Manawatu won the “Miss Canterbury” title, she was the happiest and most surprised girl in town for her name was a last-minute entry. As a provincial winner she is automatically a candidate for the ‘Miss New Zealand 1968’ contest which will be held in Dunedin during Queen's Birthday weekend.

From the time she left school, Aroha has been keenly interested in modelling, particularly fashion work, but apart from being chosen ‘Model of the Month’ in a local competition last year, she had never taken part

in a beauty or personality parade prior to the ‘Miss Canterbury’ show.

Aroha, one of the family of six girls and two boys, is a direct descendant of two Maori chiefs, Tuahuriri and Te Maiharoa. She is a great-grandchild of Erihapiti Manawatu Te Ra.

Special Prize

Bertha Te Ua Ua received a special prize at Wellington's Trade Trainee Graduation ceremony on 16 November, 1967, from Mrs Roberts, wife of the Assistant District Officer.

She was top student in the Department of Maori Affairs' scheme which each year trains a small number of Maori girls from rural areas as shorthand typists. After only a year's tuition Bertha sat both the Junior and Senior Government shorthand examinations, the first trainee to sit both at once.

Bertha, whose ambition is to be a private secretary, was a pupil at Opotiki College, where she sat and passed University Entrance.

To Nurse in Vietnam

In February Miss Whaiatua Hapi, daughter of Waaka and Peggy Hapi and a member of the Tuwharetoa tribe left her job as senior theatre sister at Rotorua Hospital to spend a year as theatre sister at Qui Nhon Hospital in Vietnam.

After leaving Queen Victoria Girls' College. Miss Hapi trained at Rotorua Public Hospital, graduated in 1963 and became a theatre sister.

For a few months in 1967 she was Assistant Matron at a Jewish Home for the Aged, and from May to November attended the Waikato

National Publicity Studios

Success at Tauranga

The Junior section of the National Maori Cultural Championships held at the Memorial Hall. Tauranga, on 21 October, 1967, was won by the Ruatokia Primary School Group, pictured below with their trophy. Tokoroa Inter-

mediate School was placed second and the Ohau Maori Youth Club was third.

The Senior section was won by Ngati Poneke, Wellington, with the Ruatoki group of Taneatua and the Waioeka group of Opotiki second and third.

Mr C. Williams, director of the Publicity Division of the Tourist and Publicity Department was lavish in his praise of what he heard in the junior contest and said that the performances of the senior groups were the finest he had ever seen.

Won Three Times

Mr Tamati Te Patu, M.M., kaumatua of the Mawai-Hakona Maori Association which meets every Sunday evening at Silversteam Hall. Upper Hutt, holds the Kingi Tahiwi Memorial Challenge Cup.

The trophy, competed for annually at the Wellington Competition Society's Festival, is for the best original action song and has been held by Mawai-Hakona for the last three years.

St Joseph's Centennial

At right is Agnes Morunga, head girl of St. Joseph's Maori Girls' College, Greenmeadows, welcoming guests at the centennial celebrations last October, and below are some of the present pupils performing the double long poiduring the entertainment provided for the visitors.

The celebrations began on Saturday, 21 October with a welcome to Bishop O. N. Sneddon of Wellington who celebrated a Mass of thanksgiving and unveiled a statute depicting St. Joseph as a Maori.

A banquet and ball, a monster hangi and entertainment by the pupils were included in the programme.

Theo Kist

The Sacred Huia

by T. V. Saunders

It is over 60 years since I gazed with wonder and admiration upon the most sacred of all New Zealand forest-dwelling birds—the huia. It is presumed to be extinct, with the last authentic data being collected in 1907.

There still linger in my mind affectionate memories of the most tapu (sacred), and most treasured manu (bird) of the feathered kingdom to the Maori people.

To the Maoris, only chiefs and rangatiras of high rank and distinction were privileged to adorn themselves with its remarkable whitetipped tail feathers (piki huia).

My thoughts still wander backwards to my first sighting of the huia, and with a saddened heart I think of the passing into oblivion of the birds through the ruthless killing indulged in by both Maori and Pakeha.

The fortune hunters of that period received up to about £2 a bird. My first glimpse of the huia came about when Mr Charles Matthews, the owner of the Wai-o-rongo-mai station invited Heta Te Miha and Aporo Hare, two well known elders of the Pirinoa and Palliser Bay area to hunt for huias for themselves and their tribes. I was very keen to make the trip and I asked the elders if they would take me along with them. To my delight they both agreed to take me.

Early one morning in May 1902, we made the long trek in a light waggon with a draughthorse in the shaft, along the eastern side of the Wairarapa Lake, then along the western shores of the lake in a southerly direction to Wai-o-rongo-mai station. On our arrival at the homestead, Mr Matthews instructed one of his shepherds to pack our belongings to a camp which had already been prepared for us. We spent the rest of the day making our camp comfortable, and just as we were about to have our tea, the dog we had taken along with us began barking at a wild pig he had cornered.

One of the elders shot the pig which we dressed to augment our meat supply.

Early the next morning we climbed a nearby ridge where the two elders took turns at whistling the huia call, but their whistling was in vain, for no answering call was received from the birds. The next morning we climbed up another ridge, where the same routine as on the first day was carried out, but our efforts were again in vain.

That evening, when we were sitting around our camp fire, Heta Te Miha related to us the following legend about a female huia.

‘Long, long ago, some time after the great canoe migration to Aotea-roa (New Zealand), there was a high-ranking chief who was in the habit of going up into the mountains to set snares for birds. One day when he went to gather in his catch he was surprised to see a strange bird held in one of his snares. Of course, the stranger was the huia.

‘The chief was full of admiration for the beautiful bird he had captured and he plucked two feathers from its tail and wore them in his hair. Perhaps this was the first occasion the huia feathers were worn as a head decoration.

‘Before liberating the huia, the chief bestowed upon it a magic spell and mana (power) with the command that the bird was to appear before him when it was wanted. ‘Now it happened that on one occasion when the chief requested the bird to appear, it was nesting time for the huia and its tail feathers were ruffled and in a bad state. The chief was very angry and asked the bird why its tail feathers were in such a bad condition. The bird told him that it was through sitting on its nest.

‘The chief then said: “I will provide you with a means that will enable you to keep your tail feathers in good order when I next call on you.” He took hold of the huia, which was a female, and bent its beak into a circular shape. He then commanded the huia that every time it sat on its nest, it was to pick up its tail feathers with its circular beak and lift them clear of the nest.’

‘This campfire story provides an ingenious explanation for the long beak of the female huia, and doubtless gave satisfaction in the telling—another illustration of the legendary power of a great ancestor.

It was on the third day of our huia hunt that we made contact with the huias, when after the elders had been whistling for about half an hour, they were rewarded with an answer to their calls from far to the south of the ridge on which we were located.

Closer and closer we heard the answers to our whistling. Suddenly the fluttering of wings

amongst the trees heralded the arrival of the birds, a female and male huia, which finally settled on a nearby miro tree.

I gazed with wonder and admiration, for the first time in my life, at the most beautiful forest bird of the feathered kingdom.

A feeling of pity and regret passed through me, that such lovely and handsome birds as the huias were to be slaughtered just for the sake of their tail feathers.

By the end of the week the two elders had bagged six huias and decided to call the hunt off. We had our belongings—which included some wild pork to augment our meat larder at home—packed out to the Wai-o-rongo-mai station by the shepherd, the elders thanked Mr Matthews for his hospitality, and we made the long trek home to Pirinoa. Needless to say, the elders were well pleased with the result of the huia hunt.

General Description of the Huia

Of all our forest birds, the huia may be considered outstanding in point of view of bodily colour alone, quite apart from the remarkable glossy-black tail feathers with their white tips, and there were generally 12 feathers to a huia's tail.

The general bodily colour was dark blue merging to black, with an overall greenish sheen covering its body and head. One of the most beautiful features of the huia was the bright golden-orange wattles compressed beneath its lower jaw, these wattles being generally a little more than an inch across and of an ovalish shape. The different species were recognised by their beaks, the male's beak being straight and about three or more inches long, with the female's beak circular and about six inches long.

The male used its beak, short, thick at the base but tapering to a sharp point, to open up the huhu grub holes in the half-rotten trees to make it easy for its female to fish out the huhu with her slender curving beak. The huhu and other grubs and insects, berries and fern roots were the main diet of the huias. The female was a larger bird than its companion, its measurement being about 20 to 22 inches in length, while the male was 18 to 19 inches long.

In comparison, the huia would have been a shade smaller than the ordinary magpie.

† † †

As I have spoken to many of our younger Maori generation about the huia bird, I was rather shocked to learn that some of them had no knowledge of the huia, so I have decided to make known through ‘Te Ao Hou’, the record of the huia as I have seen it in its natural surroundings.

Kia Ora,

T. V. Saunders.

continued from page 27

made by the education committee which prepared the report, that ‘a change of administrative control and a change of name has not altered the fact that many Maori children have special needs requiring special provisions’.

‘The Board must be awake to recognizing where these special needs exist and must cope with them adequately. An active school committee which draws in Maori parents as members is an excellent safeguard by which Maori parents can ensure that the special needs of their children are in fact discovered and provided for.

This reference extends beyond the recognized disability of the Maori child in English language and literature, to that broad, rather vague and controversial concept—Maoritanga. Here is a specific need, and an important one. The director of the English Language Institute at Victoria University of Wellington made these two encouraging observations: ‘The child whose mother tongue is not English is basically a privileged child … investment in these children is not a regrettable duty but a profitable venture.’

Critics of this point of view rely on the argument that the language is dying if not already dead, and it is but a matter of time when Maori custom and practice will also disappear. This argument of course is not true. Maori is the language of the marae, the church, the daily language of the people of the East Coast, Northland and the Urewera; and for any Maori with aspirations of a place of prominence among his people he must be conversant in Maori.

If Maoritanga is to find its true place in the schools, it is surely the Maori community that must agitate to achieve this end, and places where such agitation pays off include, among others, the small, humble, and inconspicuous school committee.

When Samuel Marsden conducted the first Christian service in New Zealand on Christmas Day, 1814, he had only the English Authorised Version of the Bible, and Ruatara, a Maori chief with whom he had struck up a friendship, acted as interpreter. The translation was imperfect, but it was the first step in the long task of producing the whole Moari Bible.

The Maori language, full of poetic imagery, expressed thoughts about God closely resembling those of the ancient Jews. Maori legends were told in language well suited to the expression of Christian thought, but it was only a spoken language.

The early missionaries reduced the language to writing, and set down its grammatical forms. Within six years their knowledge was sufficient to begin translation of the Bible, and the first part to be published was the Lord's prayer, in 1820. Then the Commandments, the Beatitudes, the Creation Story and the first chapter of St. John's Gospel were translated, and in 1827 these selections were sent to Sydney and produced in one volume.

The arrival in 1835 of William Colenso, the first missionary-printer, enabled books to be printed in New Zealand, and the first to appear was a 16-

Pictured at right is the stamp issued to mark the Maori Bible centenary. It shows Bishop Hadfield's Bible. still in use at the historic Rangiatea Church, Otaki, open at the book of Deuteronomy.

Tenth Anniversary of the
Arai Te Uru Maori Club

No te mea ra ia, he rakau tawhito, e mau ana te taitea i waho ra, e tu te kohiwi. (In a very old tree you may be certain that the sapwood is on the outside, while the heartwood is in the middle.)

Truly, the keenness and vigour of the younger members of the Arai Te Uru Maori Club is tempered by the wisdom and counsel of the elders in this, their tenth year of club life. Twenty six people attended a meeting in the Dunedin Public Library on 25 July. 1957 and thus began ten years of cultural, social and communal club life. It was known then as the ‘Aotearoa Maori Club’ although this name was later changed to the present name, the old name for the area bounded by the Waitaki and Clutha Rivers. The instigator behind the formation of the club was Mr J. W. Gray, who also became the first president. He had the backing and assistance of the O te Poti Maori Committee, which was chaired by the late Mr R. O. Potiki.

Initial membership of the club was 47 but this has now risen to about 200, including children. Members come from most districts of New Zealand, from Kaeo in the north to Invercargill in the south and take part in such cultural activities as carving classes, weaving and piu piu making classes, poi, stick games and action songs and haka classes. North Island judges, after watching the action songs, etc. at the South Island Maori Cultural Competitions at Christchurch and the Southland Cultural Competitions rated them among the four best clubs in the South Island and said that they could acquit themselves well anywhere in the country. In the past year, the club has been overcommitted with social functions throughout Otago, and their activities included entertaining the South African and English women's basketball teams, participating in the Mosgiel Festival, giving a reception for the Moral Re-armament group which was in Dunedin, entertaining the Hard of Hearing, and providing part of the offcial welcome to the new Governor-General.

A past president and an original committee member of the club, Mr Wi Duff gave a guide line for the future when he said, ‘Our main aim at present is to capture the hearts and imagination through Maori culture and activities and to join with our Pakeha members and friends in taking on greater responsibilities of that nature—responsibilities which, I feel, would be an asset to the whole of the New Zealanders' way of life.’

When commenting on the achievements of the club over the past decade, Mr Duff said, ‘We have established permanently, a strong, well-knit Maori community and created a new interest in Maori culture as well as establishing a body which has succeeded in raising $4,000 towards purchasing a property as a Community Centre.’

The celebrations in November took the form of an anniversary ball at the St. Kilda Town Hall, which was opened by the Mayor and Mayoress of St. Kilda, Mr and Mrs R. S. Jones.

Guests at the function included Mrs W. Tirikatene-Sullivan, M.P. for Southern Maori and her husband, and the Mayor of Dunedin. Mr. R. J. Calvert and Mrs Calvert.

Mr N. Maxwell gave the challenge to the guests and a group from the club performed a haka of welcome. Mrs Tirikatene-Sullivan spoke of her pleasure at being able to attend and of her desire to meet and get to know the people for whom she speaks. A capacity crowd spent a most enjoyable evening dancing and then on the Sunday, a church service and picnic was held at Otakou on the Peninsula.

Although the weather was cold for the picnic, the club president, Mr T. Parata, believes that the club has celebrated its birthday in fine fashion and is well launched into the next ten years of growing from strength to strength.

Each Sunday afternoon, the club meets in the Y.M.C.A. rooms and while the adults take part in their classes or practice, guided by the Cultural director Mr R. Edwards, the children under the leadership of Miss R. Mason gain a very good grounding in the skills which they will be using in later club life. In this way, the club is looking to its future in a very practical way and this concern for the children, together with the ambitious plans for a community centre, indicate that the next ten years should be both very busy and very rewarding. The club will definitely need both the wisdom of the elders and the enthusiasm of youth.

Queensland
Polynesian Association

On Friday, 2 February, 1968, about 350 guests, including members of the Queensland Polynesian Association, gathered at the Souths Rugby League Clubhouse at Davies Park, in the Brisbane suburb of West End to celebrate the 128th Anniversary of the Treaty of Waitangi. The day was honoured by a cabaret supper dance with a Maori welcome ceremony.

Among the guests in this celebration were Pacific Islands Polynesian representatives from Tonga, Samoa, and Hawaii, French Polynesia and the Cook Islands. Mrs Tai Price, formerly of Gisbone represented the Maoris of New Zealand and the Cook Islands and Mr Terry Over, formerly of Auckland, represented New Zealand.

Beside the Islanders and the Maoris, the majority of the members are Australians and New Zealanders. We have a membership of approximately 300. New Zealanders, both Maori and Pakeha, who intend to visit Queensland may contact us by writing to our Hon. Secretary at the address below, as we also assist them to obtain accommodation before their arrival.

Mrs Snell,

‘He Toa Takatini’
‘Unity is Strength’

by Alice Unawai

John Smith of Rotorua and Canon Wi Huata of Hamilton—helped by James Thompson and

‘He Toa Takatini’ group at Honolulu.

A shot taken in Milwaukee, Oregon, of Alice Unawai, Nuhaka, and Frank Dennis, Gishorne.

Joe Matele of Auckland—have launched a goodwill movement within a few years.

After John Smith had succeeded in a lone promotion in Queensland in 1965, members of all denominations joined from all over the North Island. Since then, charity concerts have been given all over New Zealand, two Australian trips have eventuated, and in September 1967—a step further—a successful trip to the United States.

Our party of 30 representative Maori performers from the seven tribal canoes went on a six-week goodwill tour of Oregon, giving from two to five concerts each day. Drawn from many walks of life, the members had one thing in common—a love for Maori culture. The performers paid half their fares and made nothing from the tour. Proceeds of the concerts went to United States charities.

Concerts were given in full traditional Maori costume and included action songs, hakas, poi dances, stick games, hand games, translations and explanations. Many schools were included in our itinerary—Grade, Junior and Senior High Schools, and Universities, including Corvallis. Pacific and Oregon State School Universities. American clubs and organizations extended invitations too—Rotary, Kiwanis, Y.W, & Y.M.C.A. and Church groups. The American Jaycees were to be commended for their splendid organization of the tour.

The main aim of the group is to promote friendship and goodwill with other countries and to illustrate and explain facets of traditional Maori Culture. The group emblem was designed by Canon Huata and features two golden fern fronds on a black background. Superimposed on these are two musical notes which also represent swinging pois. Below the ‘N.Z.) for New Zealand are the words ‘He Toa Takitini’ which may have two translations; ‘Unity is Strength’ or ‘Our warriors' strength is our Unity’. The significance of the fern fronds is the fact that when a fern dies, another will always take its place. This idea is expressed in the proverb, ‘Mate atu he toa … Ara mai ra he toa’—‘A warrior falls … another will rise’ ‘A chief dies … another takes his place’.

The music notes represent the deep love of music that is very typical of the Maori people. The pois denote the rhythm of life. Traced in the strings of the swinging pois can be seen the initials ‘H.S.’ for Hoani Smith, the tour organizer. Also there are the initials ‘S.S.’ which stand for ‘Service before Self’ and also ‘Service and Speech’—we have two ears and but one tongue, that we may hear much and talk little.

The U.S. tour culminated in a visit to such interesting places as Disneyland and Hollywood studios in Los Angeles, Fisherman's Wharf and Chinatown in San Francisco. Marineland in San Diego and Waikiki beach in Honolulu.

Firm friendships were established in Klamath Falls, Oregon (sister city to Rotorua), Some of these friends included Ron Smith, our Jaycee Organizer, Mayor R. Veech who treated us to an Air Display by the famous American

Tim O'Hara, an American, and Bob Schuster with a hangi dinner prepared for the citizens of Klamath Falls, Oregon.

Thunderbirds—and Helen Hoffman who wrote the following poem about us …

Maoris, Hail and Farewell

Proud Maoris, Welcome to Klamath Fails, fair symbol of the West!
At this centennial moment, come right in and be our guest!
For this is God's own country where the sun looked down and smiled.
Where people do things naturally, and even the plums are wild!

A land of timber, spuds, and grain, and cowpoke riding high,
While caterwauling aerojets trace patterns in the sky!
We've placid lakes and waterfalls, and rivers rapid-tossed,
And some that just meander till they get themselves plumb lost!

It's cold up on the mountain peaks where skiers freeze their toes,
While in the hotsprings area, we're wearing scanty clothes!
We have game sanctuaries, protecting beast and bird,
But such shooting all around that spot is elsewhere never heard!

The reservation set aside for Klamath's Indian race
Is closed, and as new citizens, they've gained their rightful place.
Wonder at ancient petroglyphs, cut deep in canyon walls,
Only at this point, restrain yourselves! don't ask, ‘Where are the falls?’

Sure, such paradoxes should present quite enough of a riddle,
Still you saw the mountain that blew its top, with a lake right in its middle¹
So if our folk are different from the ordinary kind,
Please note the trouble nature had in making up her mind.

We've churches school and business, and tourist trade galore,
With a hundred years' traditions, now who could ask for more?
Orbits circling the tired old world? Moon landings? The missile race?
Why these things seem mere trifles when our Jaycees set the pace!

So ‘Now is the Hour’. Maoris, and as true friends we must part;
But your haunting music, heaven sent, shall linger in our heart.
And if some day on Klamath streets, no citizen shall be found,
Just bet your bottom shilling. we're all New Zealarid bound!

Now join in our sone of a century, as our great state marches on!
For with God our guide. we shall safely ride, to glory with Oregon!
And forever, remember Klamath. where God looked down and smiled,
Where people do things naturally. and even the plums are wild!

It is interesting to compare these accounts of two newly-formed groups, each making a contribution to its community.

The Legend of the Seven Whales

Seven whales one night went out
They were to return by dawn:
Their master told them, ‘Be back here,
When the bellbird heralds the morn.’

So out they went on a merry spree
And alas were late returning;
As they headed towards the open sea
A light in the East was burning.

Bad fortune marked these fellows gay,
Ne'er more could they be free.
They're turned now into seven hills
Facing towards the sea.

This legend comes from the Wairoa district, the names of the hills being Hikunui, Iwitea, Korito, Takitaki, Onepoto, Tahutoria and (there is an element of doubt about this last name) Tuhara. They may still be seen from the main highway between Gisborne and Wairoa, about seven miles out of Wairoa.

Now another selection of poems from those sent in last year by Northland College pupils.

Storm

Rain …
The sound of rattling tins
and thunder roaring
Like a drum booming
Lightning …
A car crashing over the bank.

Kawa Cherrington

Athletic Sports

Feet pounding on the ground
Like a herd of stampeding bulls.
Fast-moving figures of the athletes
… swiftly moving deer.
Racers reach the tape.
Take it, like a man dying
of thirst in the desert.

Tima Pou

Waterfall

Like an express train
The roar of a waterfall
reaches my ears.
Spray.
Reaching out,
like uncountable hands,
then falling down the mountain,
in a mist,
in uncountable gallons,
Falling
into massive heaps of foam.

Taupaki Mohi

Creek

Sitting on a bank, surrounded
by thistles and gorse,
I sit staring and think—
think about this river which flows by
With a slight trickle of moments.

Robert Tana

Wind

Wind!
blowing sand in my eyes.
Shivering! shivering all through the day,
falling, falling! —
like rocks as they fall from a high peak.
Growling! Biting! Falling!
The sand—oh! how sore!

Taka Whiu

Athletic Sports

Pounding of feet …
Natives pounding corn for flour
White, light clothing …
Flags flopping on board ship
A cool drink …
Soothing and relaxing, like
fat millionaires in mansions.

Wiremu Andrews

Storm

Window-panes shake as the thunder bangs
with anger
Lightning flashes across the world
… a searchlight flicked on and off.

Wiremu Andrews

Tree

Bare tree,
You are like a thin, bony man
You are weak and thin,
All alone,
Poor sick old man.

Anon.

Death

Dark.
Everlasting blackness.
Feelingless …
Unaware of surroundings,
Unaware of the crying,
Unaware of the thumping dirt
like a cloudburst tumbling on tin roofs.
Then light—
Entering Heaven? Maybe Hell.

Frank Waa

Creek

Reflections, shapes, colours …
An art gallery.
Slimy weeds,
like eels,
moving and swaying as if dancing to a tune.

Rankin Marsh

Death

Wailing of apes.
Breaking of branches,
As, like a flood, they come.
Cries of monkeys—
Swinging wildly from limb to limb …
Then, suddenly, as if hit by a bomb
The animals are silent.
Slowly,
Thumping his chest like a boxer,
The Conqueror comes forward
to be crowned King of all apes.

Fred Broughton

Tree

Like a lonely stork
Against the moonlight sky
With its branches erect
Like an eerie hand poking the starry sky
It shadows itself on the sinister ground
And stands there,
Forever.

Marara Pou

Cold

Standing stiffly against the stone wall,
Teeth chattering, bones rattling.
Watching the clouds rush by,
As the rain teems down.
Whispering whistles round the corners.

Kathleen Solomon

Rain

A pencil tap on a book.
It jumps on your head.
It rolls down your nose
—like a fly tickling your leg.

Laurence Reihana

And now a poem from Richard Te Haara, of St. Stephen's College, Auckland.

The Sea

The sea
of motion and rhythm,
The sea
moaning, roaring, thunderous
The sea,
ever whispering,
never ceasing, never dying, long living,
So immortal,
‘Onward o mighty waters, carry the spirits
of our Tipuna back to their homeland.’

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Last year, Rangi Faith, then head boy at Tetmuka High School, won for the second year in succession the school's literary prize. Below are three of his poems. The first, ‘To a Mountain’ was published by the Timaru Herald.

To a Mountain

O ageless one,
My heart beats to see you rise
From the enveloping green of a valley deep,
Enshrouded, entangled in mist and bush,
And scarred by wind and rain and age
Still standing
Still.

O endless one
Who knows no pain,
No cares, no anguish, no beating heart,
But only a rain that beats and scars
And only a sun that heats and marrs
Your beauty.

O ageless one, secure is your world
Of changing moods,
Where the swift breeze caresses with fingers so cold,
Where the sky eagle haunts the towering crag,
Where the wild beasts roam, free and fleet,
And the cascade falls like a handful of gems
To your feet.

O careless one
Who laughs on Man and Time,
Laugh not
Your time will come,
Your heart will beat,
Your granite tears come rolling down,
And slowly, slowly wear away
The splendour I have seen today.

Cat

Patient, sphinx-like
It waits:
Muscle-tense, tail slack,
Split eyes fixed in stare,
Ears pointed stiff,
Body long, tapering, smooth
Like stone—
Hewn with cunning hand.

Hark! A flutter of sound
In still air.
Feline eyes mirror the bird
As it hops.
Stops,
Listens—small head on side,
Tail lively with fanned colour
Like some exotic dance, movement filled:
Eyes keen,
It stoops, pecks, stands again—
Listening—
Insect struggling, weakening
In tenacious beak,
Then gone—gracefully executed
In deep silence,
Save leaves rustling, falling,

The sphinx too
Is silent—
Like mossy stone in grass,
But tense—the moment is near:
Cramped body eases, slightly.

Claws unsheath, — supple curves,
Then lightning fast
One strong long bound
It stikes swift;
A blur of ebony
And all is over.

The law is still strong
Even here
In the steel world.

Reflections on Rain

Soggy wool, parted in the middle
Swept cleanly down the sides.
Muddy under the belly,
Hanging like a fringe over the face and eyes;
The weight is felt—
One quick violent movement of the body and head
And the droplets shower off
In a fine spray;
Then the teeth plunge again into the fodder

To give warmth to a body half-frozen
By snow and rain,
Slashed by an unrelenting wind
Sweeping off bare, bleak granite
And sodden bush.
The grain is crushed flat—
The farmer's trial is in many different ways—

The inundation of rich land,
The residue of useless silt;
Communications cut—the flooded road,
The poles swaying in the wind,
Clinging desperately to the earth—
Futile efforts.
The hungry unpredictable river,
Fed by crumbling banks and incessant rain
Flows on—
The stone-wall, the farm-gate, the homestead
Pose no barriers in its journey to the sea—
A course predetermined by the contours
Of the farmer's own land
And the natural gateways of valley after valley,
The metal road and dirt track
And every insignificant gully.

Rain then, is the frustrating factor;
from humble beginnings—the heavy, spaced drops
Flinging mud like small eruptions;
Then the coalescing into a controlled deluge—
Trickles becoming pools, overflowing into braided streams—
Potentially dangerous,
but carrying the element vital to all Life—
Water, a paradox

The following essay and poem are written by Sharon White, aged 14, of Maropiu District High School, Northland.

Kaihu

Kaihu is like a lake on a sunny day,
calm, peaceful, or in one word, serene.
The only things that remind you of the town are the general store, garage and the local hotel.
Kaihu has changed over the years at one time there used to be people bustling about.
But there weren't enough jobs so people left to go to the towns and cities.

The younger people here now just stay until they're old enough to go out to work.
They eventually get married and only return during the holidays or when a relation dies.
One day is much the same as the other here until Friday arrives.
The hotel is surrounded by cars until everyone leaves to go somewhere for a party.
Saturday afternoon is the same as Friday.
Then Sunday comes and once again everything is serene.

The Maori
Yesterday and To-day

Through the years the Maori is changing as he is getting accustomed to the European way of life. Gradually he is losing the old traditions of his people. He is selling the land that has been passed down to him after many generations, land that has been fought for by great warriors of the past. The family heirlooms are being sold to Europeans to buy food and clothing, and other luxuries money can buy.

Out in the country the Maori isn't losing his traditions so quickly. He still obtains much of his food from the land and sea.

The Maori is asked, ‘Why do you not clear your land and grow on it grass instead of all the bush and scrub covering it now?’ But why should he clear away the bush that provides the home for the pigeon and the shade for the tasty kewai that lurk in the shallows of the streams, and is the garden of the old medical herbs.

The old hui-house still stands there now but it is very old and shabby. The hinges of the doors are rusty, and the paint is peeling off the dilapidated boards. There are no carvings, for the old carvers are dead and gone; buried underneath the cracked old tombstones in the cemetery on the hill.

In the city the Maori has to adapt himself to the European way of life to survive. He must go to work to get money to buy food and clothing for his family.

But though some Maoris are forgetting their old customs, other youngsters are learning the old arts and crafts so that they may carry on the traditions handed down to them from their forefathers. Then in years to come they can pass their knowledge on to their descendants.

Nowadays, the Maori is becoming someone in his country. No longer can the European cheat the Maori because of his lack of educa-

tion. There are more Maoris becoming lawyers and teachers. And Maoris are proving themselves equal to the European in cultural activities. Those such as Kiri Te Kanawa, Howard Morrison, and Inia Te Wiata are well known for their achievements in the field of music.

The duo Lou and Simon is a very good example of Maori and European working together as a team. The times have gone when they were two very different races, for now they are one people, working and playing as brothers, regardless of race and colour.

None of the Maoris think of the times when a man of the Ngapuhi tribe could not marry a woman of the Waikato tribe. A man will marry a woman no matter what tribe she belongs to. This is good for it brings together all the tribes of New Zealand. Even better than this is the fact that many Maoris are marrying Europeans, drawing closer together the two peoples of New Zealand.

It is unfortunate that men such as Steve Watene and Tiri Katene have died because they were well known for the work they did while in Parliament. But as the elders die the younger people take their places, for it is the boys of today that will be the men of tomorrow.

The Singing Tuna

by Louise Tilsley
Maori version by Matire Wikiripi

‘Tanumia, e Rau, kia hōhonu, kei keria ake anō e te kurī nā. Tīkina atu te hō kei roto o te wāhi-whare nā.’ Ka mutu ēnei kōrero a te Minita nei. Ka hoki atu ia ki roto i te whare. Ka mahue iho a Rau ki te mahi i tāna i whakahau ai kia mahia.

A Rau he tamaiti Māori. Ka iwa ōna tau. I te teihana mihana o te Rohe Pōtae o Niu Tireni ia e noho ana. Kua mate ōna mātua i a ia anō e nohinohi ana, nā reira ka riro mai ia mā te Minita nei e atawhai. Tino pai a Rau ki ngā tāngata katoa o taua kāinga nei, ā, tukuna ana ia kia haere i ngā wāhi katoa o tō rātou kāinga. Ko tana tino mahi pai he haere ki te hī tuna i tētahi awa i raro tata iho o tō rātou kāinga.

I ētahi awatea, e haere ana ia ki te awa o Ongārue, e hia maero te tawhiti. Ka nui hoki te tuna nunui ki reira.

I tētahi rā, kātahi tā rātou manu ka mate. Nā, ka tonoa a Rau kia mauria taua manu kia tanumia. Ka mea atu a Rau, ‘Ae, māku e tanu kia hōhonu.’ Ka tango ia i te pēke pepa i roto o tana koti. Ka kohia te manu ki roto, ā, ka haere ia me te pei ki te tanu i te manu nei ki raro atu o te mahinga. E titiro iho ana te Minita nei ki a Rau e haere ana ki te tanu i te manu.

‘Bury it very deep, Rau, in case the dog finds it and tries to dig it up again. You will find the spade in the tool-shed,’ said the Minister, as he walked inside the house, leaving Rau to do his bidding.

Rau was a little Maori boy, about nine years of age. He lived at the Mission Station away in the King Country of New Zealand. His parents had died a few years after he was born so he was placed in the special care of the Minister, at the Mission Station, who seemed to take a great interest in him. Rau was very fond of everyone there and he was allowed special privileges about the place. His chief hobby was eel fishing. Every spare moment he had was spent down at the creek not far from the house and when he had a whole afternoon he would go miles up the Ongarue River to try to catch big eels.

Thus it came about that this special Saturday afternoon Rau was asked to look in the bird cage and take out a dead canary to bury it. So he took it out of the cage very carefully and put it quickly into a brown paper bag which he pulled from his pocket.

‘Yes, all right, I bury him very deep,’ Rau answered with a big smile and off he went down to the end of the garden. The Minister watched him from the study window striding down towards the orchard, with the spade on his shoulder and the bird in the bag in one hand.

Ka mutu te kai ahiahi, ka haere te Minita me tana hoa wahine ki te parāni i waho o te whare okioki ai. Nā, kua tae mai a Rau. Ka tū i mua i a rāua, me te pēke huka nei i roto o ana ringaringa. A, ka waiho ki raro, he horihori tonu tēnā pēke.

Ka mea atu te Minita nei ki a Rau, ‘He aha tāu mea i roto o te pēke huka nei, e Rau?’

He nui te puku kata o Rau i a ia e whakapuare ana i te pēke nei, ā, ka mea atu, ‘He tuna waiata tāku.’

Kātahi ka whakapuaretia te pēke, me te kōkiritanga ake o te tuna nei ki waho. Ka whakahokia anō e Rau ki roto i te pēke, me tana puku kata hoki. Ka mataku te wahine o te Minita nei.

A, ka mea atu te Minita, ‘E Rau, he aha koe i mea ai he tuna waiata tēnā? Hore anō ahau i rongo i tēnā mea i te tuna e waiata ana.’

‘Kāhore, e Minita, e tino mōhio ana ahau he tuna waiata tēnā. Kei roto o tana puku kī tonu i te waiata.’

Ka mea atu hoki te wahine o te Minita nei, ‘Ae, e Rau, ēngari he aha koe i mōhio ai e waiata ana tēnā tuna?’

Ka titiro atu a Rau, ā, ka mea, ‘He tuna waiata tēnā. Nāku hoki te manu waiata rā i kohi ki roto o te pēke nei, ā, ka pangaa e au ki roto o te awa tuna i roto rā. Kāhore kē i tanumia e au. Kātahi ka tomo mai te tuna nui nei ki roto. Nā reira tēnā tuna, kī tonu tana puku i te waiata.’

I wā Rau anō! He tamaiti iti noa iho anō ia. Kāhore he tino mōhiotanga, ēngari he tino tamaiti mōhio ki te hī tuna.

Rau waits a long time

Late that same afternoon when everyone had finished the evening meal and the Minister and his wife were sitting out in the cool on the side verandah, Rau came towards them with a sugar sack thrown over his back, grasping firmly the top, which was tied with a piece of flax.

His face was just one big smile from ear to ear as he came up to the Minister and placed the sack at his feet.

‘Well, Rau, my lad, where have you been all this afternoon since before tea-time and what have you in this sack?’ he was asked.

‘I catch the big tuna for you—he sings, I catch the singing tuna for you, eh?’ Rau almost shouted, by way of explanation.

Rau called any kind of eels tuna, and as he spoke he pulled a long brownish eel with black spots on it out of the sack. It tried to wriggle out of Rau's firm grasp, so he then put it back ino the sack and twisted the piece of flax round the top again. Even then the eel twisted inside the sack, so the Minister's wife moved her chair further away.

‘But Rau, I don't understand. There are no singing eels, or at least I haven't heard of any in our rivers. You must be making a mistake, boy.’

‘No, Minita, he the singing tuna all right, eh? I know,’ insisted Rau.

‘Very well, but how do you know, Rau?’ asked the Minister's wife, who was looking on bewildered.

‘Well, see, I get the sack, see this one, eh, and I put in the bait and some stone and I tie the long string to the sack and I wait a long time, see, and then my tuna he go in the sack and swallow the bait, yes, he swallow it all at one time and I pull the string and pull up the sack before he jump out and the tuna he inside, see eh!’ Rau explained grinning broadly.

They listened quietly to Rau's little speech and then the Minister said, ‘Yes, that is very clever of you Rau, but it does not explain how you know it is a singing eel.’

‘Oh, yes, you see I'—then Rau hesitated as he looked from one to another and then went on—‘Yes, you see he will sing soon because’—and with another big grin, he went on—‘you see, Minita I put the canary who sings you told me to bury, in the sack, yes, and the tuna he swallow him all up, eh, therefore now he the singing tuna, see, eh!

Poor Rau was only a very simple little boy as you may guess, but he was a very clever eel-catcher, don't you think?

THE MAGIC OF MAORI SONG

Salem XP 5025 33½ 12in. L.P.

This record features ‘The Polynesian Studies Group’. Unfortunately it does not say which Polynesian studies group or give any information about the group at all, which is a great pity. Unless I am very much mistaken this is

the Polynesian Studies Group of the Wellington Teachers' Training College and the record represents a very good effort indeed from a group which includes only four Maoris and three Pacific Islanders. The remainder of the membership of some 26 students are Pakeha.

The quality of the recording is excellent and words come through very clearly. The singing is good and there are some very pleasing harmonies. The record itself, with fifteen tracks, represents good value and quite a wide selection. Each side includes two numbers from the Cook Islands. These include ‘Nga-Pu-Ariki te Vaka o Ru’ a canoe song from Aitutaki, well known to New Zealand Maoris as ‘Toia mai, Toia mai te Waka nei’. It is good to hear local groups turning their attention to the music of their first cousins (if not brothers) in the Cook Islands. The Cook numbers are very well done except for some slurring in ‘Mauri Tikitiki’, a song from Manihiki, which shows that not everyone was certain of the words.

Of the Maori numbers from New Zealand, ‘E Rui’ or the locust song is one of the best. The main flaw is the sketchy nature of the cover notes. I mentioned in my last review how it has been forcibly brought home of late that it is usually the actual group being recorded which is at fault in this respect. A group such as on this record could have been expected, I feel, to provide reasonably comprehensive explanatory notes to the items. This would have greatly increased the average listener's understanding and enjoyment of the record.

WELCOME TO RAROTONGA

Salem XP 5008 33 ½ 12in L.P.

This record is even more devoid of cover notes than the previous one, which is saying something. Since I am not familiar with Cook Island music I was better able to appreciate the frustrations of many listeners when they buy and listen to a Maori record without any information provided on the cover. The music on ‘Welcome to Rarotonga’ is very agreeable indeed but it would have been good to know just what it was about, what the occasion of singing was and a few details of the performers. Each of the twelve tracks except two is provided by a different group. These groups rejoice under such intriguing titles as ‘The Blue Boys’, ‘Harringtons Staff’, ‘Vakapora Boys’, ‘Avatiu Teenagers’ and others. Who and what are they, one wonders?

Star of the record is Teata Makirere, a very pleasant light tenor who sings two solos ‘Koe, koe, koe’ (You. you, you—the well known pop song) and ‘Come Back to Rarotonga’. If Teata was in New Zealand he could soon be a rave on the local pop scene I would think, judging from what I hear on this record. There is one female solo and two duets, one featuring Teata Makirere again. There is also an instrumental item and a drum dance and the remainder are group singing. The items are full of vitality and because of the different artists used provide plenty of variety. It is interesting to compare the music with New Zealand Maori music. The Cook music is much less sophisticated and shows less European influence. As an introduction and welcome to Rarotonga this record is very agreeable.

AN EVENING IN THE ELLICE ISLANDS

Salem XP 5033 33 ½ 12in L.P.

This is an example of Salem enterprise in bringing to us the sounds of Polynesia. It comes from tiny Funafuti, a small coral atoll which is the chief island of the Ellice group and its centre of administration.

The disc was recorded out of doors during a festival evening. The music is fresh, unsophisticated and perhaps a little difficult in its entirety for the average European to appreciate and enjoy. As the first commercial recording of Ellice Island music of the traditional variety and largely untainted by outside influence it has, however, a definite place in the library of all who collect and take an interest in Polynesian music.

Traditional Ellice music as heard on this record is accompanied only by the percussion of log drums, clapping, floor thumping and the like. As in most of the islands the four gallon kerosene can is a popular secondary accompaniment. There are also several tracks by a small group who are accompanied by guitar and ukalele. They represent the move by the younger people towards the European pop world.

The record cover gives a thumbnail sketch of the locale of the recording and talks engagingly of the ‘creeping tide of civilisation’ and ‘western culture with all its evil by products’. Unfortunately the actual items are only named Their significance and content is not discussed and this robs the record of a certain amount of its undoubted value.