Te Ao Hou
THE MAORI MAGAZINE
The Department of Maori and Islands Affairs December 1968–February 1969
The Wi Tako Trophy, made by inmates at Wi Tako penal institution, for presentation to the ‘Young Maori Woman of the Year’
Registered at the G.P.O., Wellington as a magazine.
published quarterly by the Department of Maori and Islands Affairs, and sponsored by the Maori Purposes Fund Board.
printed at Sigma Print Limited.
n.z. subscriptions: One year 75c (four issues), three years $2. Rate for schools: 40c per year (minimum five subscriptions). From all offices of the Maori Affairs Department and from the editor.
editorial address: Box 2390, Wellington, New Zealand.
overseas subscriptions: England and other countries with sterling currency: One year 10/-, three years £1/5/-. Australia: one year $1.00, three years $2.50. U.S.A., Canada and Hawaii: one year $1.20, three years $3.00. Other countries: the local equivalent of sterling rates.
back issues (N.Z. rates): Issue Nos. 19–22, 29, 31–37 and 39–64 are available at 25c each. A very few copies of issue Nos. 13, 18, 23, 25, 27, 28, 30 and 38 are still available at 50c each. Other issues are now out of stock. (Overseas rates for back issues are available on request):
contributions in maori: Ko tetahi o nga whakaaro nui o Te Ao Hou he pupuri kia mau te reo Maori. Otira ko te nuinga o nga korero kei te tukua mai kei te reo Pakeha anake. Mehemea hoki ka nui mai nga korero i tuhia ki te reo Maori ka whakanuia ake te wahanga o ta tatou pukapuka mo nga korero Maori.
Statements in signed articles in Te Ao Hou are the responsibility only of the writers concerned.
the minister of maori affairs: The Hon. J. R. Hanan.
editor: Joy Stevenson.
associate editor (Maori text): E. B. Ranapia.
Te Ao Hou
THE MAORI MAGAZINE
|How Tapa-kakahu's Fish-hook was Taken by a Kahawai, Margaret Orbell||6|
|Ko Te Toka-namu-a-Mihimarino, Hera||8|
|Maori, Rowley Habib||9|
|Pakeha, Rowley Habib||9|
|Hika Ake Au I Taku Ahi, Kathleen Grattan||52|
|The Challenge, John Barrett||52|
|The Indians of the Southwest and Some of their Dances. S. M. and J. E. Mead||10|
|Tuwharetoa Timber Incorporations, E. R. Clark||23|
|Myra Love's Visit Home||25|
|Carpentry Trainees at Hutt Show||26|
|Maori Council Visits Trentham||27|
|Young Maori Man and Woman of the Year||28|
|Harakeke Weaving School, Miria Simpson||30|
|Consecration of New Bishop of Aotearoa||32|
|Fiftieth Anniversary of the Ratana Church||35|
|Journey into the Past, Barry Mitcalfe||40|
|Education for Citizenship Course||44|
|School Goes to the Community||48|
|Women's Health League Conference||51|
|Haere Ki O Koutou Tipuna||2|
|People and Places||37|
|Younger Readers' Section||53|
front cover: Watching the marching at the Ratana hui (see p. 35).
back cover: The costume of the Aztec Indians from Mexico is different from Pueblo Indian costume. This group of Aztec Indian dancers was invited to perform at the Gallup Inter-Tribal Indian Ceremonial (see article on p. 10).
—Photo by courtesy of the New Mexico Department of Development
HAERE KI O
Mutu Paratene Kapa, M.B.E., Priest
Kua moe a Mutu Paratene Kapa i te moenga roa o ona matua tupuna. He uri a ia no nga kawei rangatira o Te Aupouri me Waikato-Maniapoto. Kua okioki a ia i ana mahi.
The Reverend Mutu Paratene Kapa, M.B.E., an elder and noted orator of the Aupouri and Waikato-Maniapoto tribes, died at Auckland on Sunday 10 November, 1968. The tangi was held at ‘Te Puea’ marae, Mangere and the interment at the Mangere (S. James) Cemetery on Wednesday 13 November, after three full days of arguing as to where his mortal remains should lie. On his paternal side, Kapa was an elder of the Aupouri tribe. His mother was of the chiefly lineage of the Waikato-Maniapoto tribes. On his death, the Aupouri elders fought for the return of his body to the headquarters of the Aupouri tribe, Te Kao. The Waikato speakers and elders in retaliation held the view that as Kapa was already lying in state on his own ground—Waikato territory — it was not necessary to have the body moved. It was barely two hours prior to the funeral when the argument was settled and so Kapa, who only a few years ago would not attend an investiture at Government House, preferring that the honour of M.B.E. be bestowed on his own marae at Te Kao, a request which was fulfilled when Sir Bernard and Lady Fergusson visited Te Kao in 1965, was buried at Mangere.
Mutu Kapa belonged to the ‘old school’ of Maoridom. Born at Ohinepu near the sacred mountains Pirongia and Kakepuku in the Waikato territory, in the eighties (although Kapa himself claimed that he was born earlier), he was a great sportsman and athlete in his young days, being outstanding in rowing, rugby, tennis and wood-chopping. It was not until he was about 17 years of age that he visited his Northern relatives. He had attended a rowing regatta at Takapuna as one of a team of Waikato rowers when he was recognized by his father's uncle who whisked him off to Kaikohe. Some years later, owing to his father's continued ill-health, the family moved to Te Kao.
Following his marriage at a fairly young age, he came under the influence of the religious leaders of the locality who persuaded him to read in theology at the Raukahikatea College, Gisborne. Kapa spent some five years as a theological student with such notable Maori personages as the late Reweti Kohere, the late Dr E. P. Ellison and others. He was ordained to the diaconate at S. Mary's Church, New Plymouth which at that time was still within the Auckland diocese. He spent some considerable time as Maori Pastor at Te Paina near Tuakau, then Waitara, Te Kao, Ahipara and finally at Tuakau where he was stationed for some thirty years until his retirement ten years ago.
Mutu Kapa was noted amongst other things, for his wealth of knowledge of the tribal histories of both Waikato and Aupouri. It was he who initiated an appeal to the Maori Land Court as well as the Supreme Court regarding the ownership of the Ninety Mile Beach. He was a spokesman at both Te Kao and Ngaruawahia and took an active part in the affairs of his people. A truly faithful Pastor and servant, he served under five of the six bishops of the Auckland diocese. For many years, he was Chaplain to the Bishop of Auckland and on his retirement after fifty years as an active priest of the Anglican Church, Kapa was awarded the M.B.E.
Kua ngaro koe e Kara! Kua tae atu koe ki te tini ki te mano, ki te iti mete rahi. Kua hoki atu koe nga matua, nga tupuna, me te iwi. E moe i roto i te Ariki. ‘Kua whiti atu koe i te mate ki te ora.’
An elder of the Ngati Kahungunu people
and a highly respected orator, Mr Ike Robin died last June, aged 82.
He was born at Wairoa but spent most of his life at Kohupatiki Pa. In his younger days he was a sportsman of outstanding ability, winning New Zealand and Australasian wrestling titles and twice drawing with the world titleholder.
Mr Robin operated shearing gangs and once was the biggest contractor in Hawke's Bay. Other interests were in politics — he was a foundation member of the Labour Party, and in the Anglican Church, where he was a prominent lay-reader. His continual work on behalf of the Maori people was recognized by the award of the M.B.E. Although crippled by rheumatism in recent years, he was still active in the Maori community, and was a guest and orator at many tribal functions.
He is survived by his wife Mei and six sons, Don, Robbie, Dave, John, Wapi, James and his daughter Erina (Mrs W. T. Bennett). Four children, Te Aroha, Mauria, Aro and John predeceased him.
Mr E. B. Corbett
A former Minister of Lands and Maori Affairs, Mr E. B. Corbett, died aged 70, in the New Plymouth Hospital last June.
Many Maoris attended his funeral, conducted by Rev. M. J. Wheeler. Rev. Manu Bennett praised Mr Corbett's work for the Maori people, and Mrs I. Ratana, member for Western Maori, spoke of the wonderful assistance given her by Mr Corbett when she first entered Parliament in 1949.
Wi Hapi Love
The man who pioneered the mobile X-ray unit in New Zealand, Mr Wi Hapi Love, died last April, aged 62. His funeral service was taken at Te Tatau-o-Te-Po meeting house by Canon Hepa Taepa and he was laid to rest in Te Puni cemetery.
Mr Love was born at Picton and was educated at Nelson College and Wellington Technical College. He worked for a time with aerial photography for the Civil Aviation Department and after his work with the mobile X-ray unit undertook a health survey in the Pacific. This took him to New Guinea, the New Hebrides, New Caledonia, Fiji, Samoa, the Cook Islands and Tahiti. For 10 years, until his retirement in 1966, he was a technical officer with the Ministry of Works.
He is survived by his wife, Marjory, and two sons, Peter and Michael.
Mrs Annie Healey, a member of the Mariu family, died in Taumarunui last July. Her tangi was held at Waihi Pa, near Tokaanu.
She attended Waihi Convent School and St. Joseph's Maori Girls' College at Green-meadows. In 1945 she was instrumental in the building of a hostel to provide boarding facilities for Maori children from isolated areas.
Throughout her life she maintained an active interest in the spiritual and material welfare of her people. She leaves her husband Ray, two daughters and six sons.
Over 400 people attended Mr Hutana's funeral at Rapaki in August. Chairman and a trustee of the Rapaki Maori Affairs Committee, he was a popular and respected figure in the Rapaki and Lyttelton communities.
Mr Hutana was born in Rapaki, his mother's birthplace, and attended school there. He took an avid interest in the preservation of Maori culture.
He is survived by his wife, four daughters and three sons. Two sons predeceased him.
A ceremonial challenge and the performing of an ancient poi on the marae at Putiki, Wanganui, during his funeral service marked the respect of the Maori people for the late Mr Ngene Weraroa Takarangi. His nephew, Mr Hemi Takarangi, made the challenge.
Visitors from far and near came to pay their respects, including Queen Te Atairangikaahu, Mrs I. Ratana, Member of Parliament for Western Maori, Wanganui's Mayor, Mr R. P. Andrews, and representatives of the Department of Maori Affairs.
Te Waharoa Tamehana
Thousands gathered at Rukumoana Pa to pay tribute to Te Waharoa Tarapipipi Tamehana, the Kingmaker, who died on
10 September. He had held the position of Kingmaker for six years, and officiated at the raising up of Queen Te Atairangikaahu in May 1966. Canon Wi Huata conducted his funeral service, which was attended by many prominent Europeans.
Mr Tamehana was a well-known carver and for a long time was instructor at the School of Carving at Rukumoana. He was brought up by Princess Te Puea at Ngaruawahia, where he learnt the art.
Mr Tamehana leaves five children, Mrs Hinematuhia Walker, Rangimahora, Waharoa, Maihi and Tuwhare. His brother, Tai-hi Waru Tarapipipi Tamehana has succeeded him as Kingmaker.
Mrs Wharekawa, who lived on Matakana Island for most of her 102 years, died at Katikati in October.
Her main interest was in young people, and she was always keen to see Maori children take full advantage of education facilities. A skilled weaver in the traditional fashion, she passed on her skill to many young women and children.
She is survived by two sons, two daughters, 34 grandchildren and 53 great-grandchildren.
Others who died during the year were Mr-Rex Ellison of Te Puia, a member of 28 (Maori) Battalion, Private Desmond Hiriini, who was killed in action in Vietnam and was buried at Kawerau with full miltary honours, Mrs Tura Muru, sister of Queen Te Atairangikaahu, Mr Hone Tukariri of Mangonui and Mr Hepara Te Huhu of North Hokianga.
We have been asked by Mr Lloyd Ngapo to mention his father-in-law, Mr William Brown, of Ahimia, Coromandel, who died during 1967, aged 85.
Mr Brown, a highly respected elder of Ngatiimaru, chairman of the local tribal committee and staunch Anglican, was postmaster at Ahimia for 32 years. After his education at St Stephen's School, he chose to stay amongst his people. He encouraged and supported young people in their aim for higher education, and with his brother Haeta pioneered dairy farming in Coromandel on land cleared from virgin bush. Through hard times he assisted his people with sound advice and stimulating new ideas for the cultivation of their properties.
A man of wisdom, with a broad outlook on life, uppermost in his mind at all times was the welfare of his people.
“We have fixed a time for you, o people!”
For a whole century God has respited mankind, that it might acknowledge the Founder of such a Revelation, espouse His Cause, proclaim His greatness and establish His Order. “The time for the destruction of the world and its people hath arrived.”
“Kua whakaritea e mātou he wā mō koutou, e te iwi!”
Mō te rau tau katoa kua whakaroa te Atua, kia whakamana ai te tangata i te Kaihanga o tēnei tū Whakakitenga, kia tautokona e ia Tāna Take, kia pānuitia e ia Tōna nui, kia whakatauria hoki e ia Tāna Kaupapa.
“Kau tae tēnei ki te wā e ngaro ai te ao me ōna tāngata.”
BAHA'I FAITH BOX 1906 AUCKLAND
Te Rangikaheke's Manuscript
‘Te Ao Hou’
It is good to have more of Te Rangikaheke manuscripts readily available. Miss Orbell is to be congratulated on her competent editing and translations.
On page 9 of Te Ao Hou No. 62 Miss Orbell mentions the Maori word waahu referring to a very dark person. It was used by Te Rangikaheke, apparently to refer to American negroes. Interestingly enough the word probably derives from the the name of an island in the Hawaiian group, now known as Oahu, a corruption of O Ahu or as a Maori would say ko Ahu ‘it is Ahu’. As a number of early observers noted (including Te Rangikaheke in the selection under discussion) Hawai'ians were among the darkest of the Polynesian islanders. They were known in the Marquesas, and perhaps elsewhere in Polynesian, as Vaahu (or Waahu) after the corrupted version of the name of the island on which Honolulu stands.
In New Zealand, apparently, the word came to mean not just a native of Hawaii, but a person of very dark complexion.
It is interesting to speculate whether Te Rangikaheke's friend Maui Tione, which is to say Maui John, came from the island of Maui, another island in the Hawaiian group.
University of Hawaii.
‘Te Ao Hou’
In the past there have been many sketches, poems, stories, articles and even novels written about the Maori, most of them I'm sure, written with the author feeling that he or she had registered, if not an entire, well a certain amount of truth.
This might be so, but personally I always read these writings with a feeling of apprehension and, forgive me, a certain amount of contempt for he who dares to tread the sacred ground of my people. This shows bias on my part I know, but I feel the one person who is legitimately and objectively suited to criticise any one race is a member of that particular race.
I feel then that although a lot has been written about the Maori by the Pakeha in the past, and is probably being written now and will continue to be written in the future, and a lot of it written from firsthand knowledge at that, to me it is like a man standing on the outside of a huge glass enclosure looking in, observing the goings on of the inhabitants in there. He can see everything that is taking place, but he misses out on the one vital factor. He does not experience with these inhabitants. He is not subjected to the many and varied physical and emotional changes going on in there. He misses those little subtleties that are so vital to these inhabitants and make all the difference to living. Here then is where I feel the Pakeha falls short when he comes to writing about the Maori. Even should he have been brought up in a densely Maori populated area, the fact still remains that he is a Pakeha and not a Maori, and that being Pakeha he cannot realize those subtle emotions that go on within the hearts of his subjects.
Therefore, I feel that the true Maori can only be caught and written about by the Maori himself, because that person, should he have the ability to express himself in words, will unlike the Pakeha, be writing from within that glass enclosure and not merely observing from without. And he will not only be writing about the obvious motives that cause people to act, but also about the not so obvious. He will be writing about the Maori as a human being and not merely as a group or type.
Tapa-kakahu and his Fish-hook
This story was written by Timi Wata Rimini and given by him to George Davies, who published it in 1891 in the Journal of the Polynesian Society (vol. X, pp. 188–9). The text was heavily edited, with explanations added and the last sentence omitted. Some expressions were altered; for example, the editor objected to puihi, the transliteration of ‘bush’, and pīki, the transliteration of ‘big’.
The text published here is from the original manuscript, which is in the Alexander Turnbull Library in Wellington (Alexander Turnbull's Scrapbook, p. 58).
After the story there is a comment written in another hand: ‘Tiimi says that Motu river is the puna or source of all kahawai, they ascend a long way up the river to a tupua or rock where they breed.’
Timi Wata Rimini wrote another account, also published in the Journal of the Polynesian Society (vol. X, pp. 183–7), in which he described how Te Whanau-a-Apanui each year caught great quantities of kahawai at the Motu river. He also related the myth of Pou and Tangaroa that was associated with this event.
The Motu river is still a very good place to catch kahawai, and every year people gather there for this purpose.
Maraenui, at the mouth of the Motu river, is about 29 miles from Opotiki. Tapakakahu was out fishing a few miles to the east of Opotiki. So according to the story, he ran about 20 miles.
Hooks faced with paua shell were used in trolling for kahawai. Eldson Best tells us that occasionally, these hooks were made of greenstone (Fishing Methods and Devices of the Maori, p. 30).
Te Rironga o te Paua a Tapa-
kakahu i te Kahawai
Pērātia ake, ka noho tērā tangata, a Tapa-kākahu, i tōna kāinga puihi i Waiaua, i te taha whakauta o Opōtiki.
Ka mate taua māia rā i te hiakai ika, ka tae ki tāna pāua pounamu, ka hoe ki te moana, ka whiua tāna pāua ki te wai. I runga anō e haere ana, ka hopukia e te kahawai. A, nō ka tata pū ki te ngahuru āna ika, ka kawea rāpea e te pārekareka, ēhara, ka riro i te pīki kahawai tāna pāua.
Ka pōuri te māia nei ki tāna pāua, he oha hoki nā ōna tūpuna. Ka hoki ki uta, ka tae ki te kākahu waero, hīpokina iho ki runga i a ia. Ka haere te māia nei ki te whai i te tere kahawai rā; ko te tere kahawai rā ki waho i te moana haere ai, ko te māia rā ki uta oma haere ai, me te oma, [m]e te karakia haere.
Kua mōhio hoki te māia nei, e ahu ana te tere kahawai rā ki Mōtū, koirā hoki te
How Tapa-kakahu's Fish-hook was
Taken by a Kahawai
Once upon a time there was a man named Tapa-kakahu who lived at his home in the bush at Waiaua, inland from Opotiki.
One day he wanted some fish to eat, so he took his greenstone fish-hook inlaid with paua, paddled out to sea, and threw the hook into the water. While it was still above the water, the kahawai rose to take it. Then when he had as many as ten fish, and was highly delighted, a big kahawai suddenly carried off the fish-hook!
Our hero was very upset at this, for the hook was an ancestral heirloom. He went back to the shore and put on his dogs'-tail cloak. Then he started following the shoal of kahawai. They swam along out at sea and he ran along the shore, reciting incantations as he went.
He thought that the shoal must be making for the Motu river, for that is the
puna o te kahawai i tēnei motu katoa. A, he mōhio hoki nōna, tērā pea e haoa e Te Whānau-a-Apanui ki te kupenga te tere kahawai rā, tērā pea ka mau mai i roto i te tini o te kahawai te nanakia kahawai rā i kāhaki atu rā i tāna pāua.
Heoi, ka tae atu te māia nei ki Mōtū, i Maraenui. Tae rawa atu, kua haoa mai te tere kahawai rā e Te Whānau-a-Apanui ki te kupenga, rite tonu ki tāna i whakaaro ai.
Ka uia mai e ngā rangatira o Te Whānau-a-Apanui, ‘He aha rawa te take i kitea mai [ai] koe?’
Kāhore rawa i hamumu te waha o te māia nei; e whakamau tonu ana hoki ōna mata ki te tini o te wāhine e tuaki ana i te kahawai.
Inamata, kīhai i roa, ēhara, ka kitea e te wahine rā te pāua rā, e mau tonu ana i te waha o te nanakia kahawai i kāhaki mai rā i te pāua rā. Ka pā te karanga a te wahine rā, ‘He pāua, ē, he pāua pounamu tāku, i te waha o te kahawai nei e mau ana!’
I hikitia tonutia mai hoki te nanakia kahawai rā e te wahine rā. Ka popō i konei te tini o te tāngata ki te mātakitaki.
Anō rā ko te māia rā ka tū ki runga i roto i te tini o te tāngata. Kātahi anō ka hamumu te waha, ka karanga atu ki te wahine rā, i roto i ngā mano. ‘E hika ē, koinā te take i kite[a] mai ai [a]hau: he whai mai i tāku pāua, nā te nanakia kahawai nā i kāhaki mai i Tirohanga.’
Anō rā ko te wahine ka hoatu te pāua a te māia rā. Ka tae te māia nei, a Tapa-kākahu, ka hīpokina atu tōna kākahu waero ki te wahine rā.
Ka hoki te māia nei ki tōna kāinga, ki Waiaua, i te mea kua hari tōna ngākau.
Ēngari kua mate rawa hoki te māia nei i te hiakai; kāore anō i kai mai anō o te ata, ā kua tata tēnei ki te torengi o te rā. Ka mea atu ngā tāngata ki a ia, ‘E noho ki te kai; kia ora, ka haere ai.’
Ka whakahokia mai e taua māia, ka mea, ‘A, he kai rā hoki i Waiaua rā!’
Mau tonu iho hai whakataukī mā ōna uri i muri nei, taea noatia tēnei rā.
Whakamāoritanga o tēnei whakataukī: ko te tangata e haere kaikā ana ki tōna kāinga, ka puritia atu e tētchi tangata kia kai, ka haere, ka whakataukī mai, ‘A, he kai rā hoki i Waiaua rā!’
source of all the kahawai in the land. He also thought to himself that Te Whanau-a-Apanui would probably net the kahawai, and that the one that had carried off his fish-hook would very likely be among all the fish they caught.
At last he came to Maraenui, on the Motu river. When he arrived he found that Te Whanau-a-Apanui had caught the shoal of kahawai in their net, just as he had thought they would.
The leaders of Te Whanau-a-Apanui asked him, ‘Why are you here?’
But our hero didn't say a word; he kept gazing at all the women gutting the fish.
Very soon, one of them found the fish-hook! It was still in the mouth of the rascally kahawai that had carried it off. The woman cried, ‘Why, here's a paua fish-hook—I've got a paua fish-hook of greenstone, here in the mouth of this fish!’
She held up the fish, and everyone crowded round to look at it.
Then our hero stood up in the midst of all those people. At last he spoke; he called to the woman, there among that multitude, ‘My friend, that is why I am here. I came after my paua fish-hook, which was carried off at Tirohanga by that rascally kahawai there.’
The woman gave the paua fish-hook to our hero, and he, Tapa-kakahu, took off his dogs'-tail cloak and presented it to her. After this he returned to his home at Waiaua, for he was well satisfied.
But he was very hungry indeed, for he had not eaten since morning and it was now near sundown. They said to him, ‘Stay for a meal, and go back after you have eaten.’
His answer was, ‘But there is also food at Waiaua!’
This reply became a proverb among his descendants, and they still use it today.
This is how they do so. If someone who is going home, and is anxious to get there, is pressed to have a meal, he will continue on his way saying, ‘But there is also food at Waiaua!’
Ko Te Toka-namu-a-Mihimarino
He kōrero tenei mō te ingoa nei, mo Tokomaru, kei te takiwā ki te Tairāwhiti e kīia nei e te Pākehā ko Tokomaru Bay. He kōrero ēnei e tika ana, kia mōhio ngā whakatipuranga kei te tipu ake.
I tae tētahi ope nui ki reira ina tata tonu ake nei, ā, i ā rātou whakahoki i ngā manaaki a te tangata whenua, ka kīia e rātou i ū mai te waka nei a Tokomaru ki reira, nā reira i tapaina ai taua wāhi ko Tokomaru.
Otirā i te wā e ora ana ngā kaumātua o taua kāinga, arā o taua iwi e kīia nei Te Whānau-a-Ruataupare, a Henare Potae mā (a Hone Paputene, a Peta Maukau, a Te Riaki Pewhairangi, a Haua Whakataka, a Hone Paerata, a Hirini Waaiti, a Harata Poiwa me ētahi atu o rātou) e rongo ana ahau ki a rātou e whakahē ana ki tēnei ingoa a Tokomaru; e kī ana rātou ko Toka-namu kē te ingoa tika; i huaina mai ki tētahi toka ko Mihimarino te ingoa, kei te moana e tū ana e pātata ana ki Ongaruru e kīia nei e te Pākehā ko Ongaruru Beach. Kei reira taua toka, he muinga, he nohonga hoki nō te namu. He rite ō rātou āhua ki te popōkorua, ēngari rere ai he parirau o rātou. Nō reira mai te take o tēnei ingoa, Toka-namu. Ko tōna tino ingoa ake ko Te Toka-namu-a-Mihimarino. E. kī ana anō aua kaumātua i haere anō ā rātou whakahē mō te ingoa Tokomaru kia whaoa atu te ingoa tika, arā kia whakatikaia, heoi anō, kihei hoki i tutuki ō rātou whakaaro.
Me kī rā kei te tika ngā kōrero a ngā kaumātua nei, he mōhio hoki rātou ki ngā tohu o tō rātou moana, ngā kōrero o ō rātou toka, ngā kōrero o ō rātou awa, me ngā kōrero o ō rātou maunga, ā, he tohu, he kōrero, he waiata, he whakatauāki hoki kei ēnei wāhi o rātou. A, ko tā rātou whakatauāki. ‘Te Whānau-a-Ruataupare tangata rite’.
Kei reira tētahi maunga ko Marotiri te ingoa, e kī ana aua kaumātua, i pakaru atu ētahi ō tēnei whānau ki Tūranga; nō rātou te kōrero nei: ‘I tiria atu te kākano ki runga o Marotiri i tipu atu ki Manawarua’ (kei Tūranga tēnei wāhi). I konei ka uru taua hunga ki ngā whakatauāki nei, ‘Tūranga tangata rite, Whānau-a-Ruataupare, tangata rite’.
Ahakoa rā kua pūkenga kētia te ingoa nei a Tokomaru e kārangarangatia ana, i runga o te Whānau-a-Ruataupare kia ahatia rā, he mea pai tonu hoki ēnei kōrero, kia mōhio tonu ai ngā uri o tēnei whānau ki ō rātou kōrero, arā ngā mea kāore i te mātau, tae atu hoki ki ngā mea e hiahia ana ki ēnei kōrero.
I kōrero atu ahau ki a Ngakohu Pera i ngā kōrero nei, e mōhio ana a ia ki tēnei toka, ki a Mihimarino, te muinga me te nohonga o te namu, ā, e whakatika ana a ia ko Tokomaru-ki-te-taha-tonga te ingoa o tēnei waka. He mōrehu koroua nō katoa, he mōhio hoki ki ngā kōrero o ngā waka. Heoi anō me waiho i tā Pirato i tuhi ai—‘Kua tuhia’.
Heoi anō. Tēnā tātou katoa.
O breast upon which I lay my head.
O strong stable Mother to whom I turn for strength.
O foundation upon which I build my house.
O inspiration. O my life's significance. My driving force.
O fuel for my flame.
O my people. My Maori people.
Comforter in hours of darkness.
Haven to which I retreat.
It seems that rays come from your person.
A glow of light shines from you.
You exude warmth and kindness. Understanding and generosity.
Laughter and enjoyment.
Yours is an odour warm and earthy.
I move in the radius of your warmth.
And immediately I am caught up in it. Laved by it.
I feel its force working on me like a balm.
Already the strains and tensions fall away.
Already I feel released. Already my heart is lighter.
Still, in less obvious ways (but just as significant)
I see the hand that once snatched greedily the land from my people.
Still, but more subtly, I see the greed that all but annihilated my people.
Still, I see the ignorance that caused so much bloodshed and grief.
Still, I see the hand that stayed itself when it could have been more harsh,
When having them at its mercy spared my people.
And I remember we were less tolerant with another race
Indigenous to this land,
When in our turn we raided these shores,
And the boot was on the other foot.
The Southwest, U.S.A.
The Indians and some of their Dances
Dr S. M. Mead is a member of the Ngati Awa tribe (Bay of Plenty) and has affiliations with the Ngati Manawa (Murupara) and with Te Arawa. His wife, June, is a member of the Ngati Porou tribe, East Coast. They have two children, Linda and Aroha. The Mead family left for America in August, 1965 and returned to New Zealand in May 1968. The family resided most of the time at the University of Southern Illinois, at Carbondale, where S. M. Mead studied for a doctorate in anthropology. While at Carbondale Linda attended a local high school from which she eventually gained a high school diploma. Aroha attended primary school at Carbondale and later at Salem, Massachusetts where the family stayed for ten months prior to returning home to New Zealand. The family existed on grants from the Carnegie Corporation of New York and from the Wenner-Gren Foundation for Anthropology. This was supplemented by a graduate assistantship at the University of Southern Illinois and by money earned by the family at baby-sitting.
The Southwest area of the United States has three tremendous attractions for strangers and tourists: its Indians, its land and its obvious antiquity. All are spectacular and well worth seeing. The Southwest region includes the states of New Mexico, Arizona, Southern Utah and Colorado, the corner boundaries of which all touch at a. spot called the Four Corners. The land is desert country, hot, dry, parched and breathtakingly beautiful. Parts of it, such
as the Grand Canyon, must be rated as being among the greatest tourist attractions in the world. For sheer immensity and grandeur the Grand Canyon is difficult to surpass.
There are many Indian tribes in the region and many of them have had colourful histories, but while they have all had their great moments all have also had some sad experiences as minority groups. Best known to Maori readers because of the Cowboy cult are the Apaches, the movie villains who are supposed to delight in shooting burning arrows into covered wagons. More important numerically, however, are the Pueblo Indians, the Navaho and the Hopi. The archaeological remains in the area reveal that Indians have been in the Southwest for many hundreds of years, at least 2,000 years ago, and they were agriculturists, who specialized in the growing of corn and squash.1 The obvious signs of antiquity both of the land and of the people are a special feature of the Southwest. Many of the region's archaeological sites are also great tourist attractions.
It was in the summer of 1966, during the months of June, July and August that we were able to visit this historic region of the United States. Our visit was made possible by a grant from the Carnegie Corporation of New York, some funds from the University of Southern Illinois, plus a little of our own savings. We shall show in the following paragraphs that we took advantage of the opportunity and saw as much as we could. The unique part of the whole experience, for us, at least, is that we went everywhere as a family unit; thus, four Maoris benefited from the generosity of the Americans and not merely one individual. The following description is limited mainly to the living Indians and especially to some of their present-day ceremonial activity which we had the pleasure of seeing.
When we woke up on the morning of June 24, 1966 we were just east of Amarillo, in Texas, and had slept in our station wagon on the roadside with lots of other travellers. Sunrises and sunsets in Texas are beautiful. The horizon is far-sweeping, the land undulating and the grass comparatively green. On this day we entered the Southwest from Texas. The change in scenery from Texas into New Mexico is sudden and dramatic. There is no green grass over the border. Instead there are hundreds of acres of burnt red land covered with stunted and sparse vegetation. There are strange and weird mountain shapes, table tops, jagged rocky formations and the sky above is a clear duck-egg blue. From out of this unencumbered sky the sun beats down savagely. The station wagon becomes a moving stove with all the elements turned on, and we know that we are in desert country following a black shimmering ribbon of road which is completely flanked by hot, dry, red earth. We were heading for the city of Santa Fe. The city was very different from any we had seen in other parts of the United States. Adobe style architecture was everywhere in evidence. For some strange reason the town itself seemed to blend with the environment, its periphery melting gracefully into the landscape. We arrived there at 4 p.m. and Santa Fe became our headquarters in the Southwest.
I worked for the university at Santa Fe but when not working my family and I explored the city and the Indian reservations around it. Santa Fe is a remarkable city. It is a city of artists, writers, amateur historians, anthropologists, silversmiths, and traders. It has three museums, a beautiful ‘open-air’ opera house, and innumerable gift shops selling Indian jewellery and odd curios. It is also a city of Indians who come to it from the surrounding reservations of Taos, Picuris, San Juan, Santa Clara, San Ildefonso, Tesuque, Cochiti, Santa Domingo, San Felipe and Zia. The city maintains positive relationships with the Indians through the Southwestern Association on Indian Affairs, the United Indian Traders Association and through its institutions of learning. Of particular interest to Maori readers is the fact that in Santa Fe is located the Institute of American Indian Arts, the American counterpart of our New Zealand Institute of Arts and Crafts which is housed at Rotorua. We visited the Institute where Indian students from all parts of the United States, including Alaska, are trained in the arts. It is a vital institution with imaginative goals, which makes a reality of the dream of education through the arts. Such, then, is
1 U.S. Dept of the Interior Handbook, Meso Verde National Park, 1966.
On our second day at Santa Fe we saw Indians dancing for the first time. A small group of dancers from the Taos Pueblo performed a war dance, a horse dance and some hoop dancing in the plaza of the city. A platform was erected for the group and they performed free of charge for the tourists. On July 9, we visited the pueblo of Taos which is 6.950 feet above sea-level. The pueblo, nestled snugly in the mountains, is north of Santa Fe. On arrival at the pueblo we stopped behind a row of cars. We noted an Indian dressed like an Arab, with a white cloth draped over his head, approach each car and pass a large book into each. He waited a few moments and then collected the book in one hand and into the palm of his free hand the motorist placed some money. When our turn came we discovered the book was a visitor's book and that the price of our inquisitiveness was 75 cents. There was a special fee of $1.25 for taking photographs. We declined to pay this fee for budgetary reasons.
The pueblo itself is spectacular and certainly nothing like a Maori pa. The centre of the pueblo is like a large square; this is the village plaza. A stream of sparklingly clear water runs through the plaza and on either side of the small stream and some distance from it stand the house clusters of adobe several stories high. These clusters resemble apartment houses which are more striking in this pueblo than in others around Santa Fe. The rooms in the cluster are surprisingly cool as we discovered when our daughters beckoned us over to a house from which the sounds of bells and the thump of a drum issued. The centre of interest was a chubby 8-year-old Indian girl who was performing a hoop dance. The bells on her legs jingled and jangled and her father sat in a corner and played his drum. She passed the hoop over her body, then she stepped over it with dainty little steps forward and back. With her body stooped she would then pass the hoop over her. Her performance delighted the little group of tourists. This was the human angle; always more interesting to watch than empty buildings. The dance ended, the chubby performer put the hoop away tidily in a corner, grabbed an open bowl, and then she stood before each member of her admiring audience. With the bowl wellstretched forward there was no mistaking its purpose. The dancer was quite stonyfaced about it, but her father nodded and smiled for her.
On this same day we visited another pueblo called San Ildefonso. The buildings in this pueblo are not as spectacular as those of Taos but the village is famous in another way. Here lives one of the greatest Indian potters of the Southwest, a woman called Maria, and her son Popovi Da. Maria uses the coiled technique of pottery making. In the early 1900s she and her husband Julian Martnez began experimenting with the traditional black-on-red ware of San Ildefonso and ‘discovered’ a novel way of firing clay which produced a strikingly beautiful black ware. The body of the jar is in burnished black and the
patterns in matte black. This kind of finish can be called black-on-black and is now produced in many other pueblos besides San Ildefonso. Nevertheless, it is to Maria's shop that pottery lovers go. Her work is of high artistic and technical quality; most definitely the work of a great artist. The starting price for her creations is about $20—for a small saucer.
During the summer months the Pueblo Indians perform dancing ceremonies which are variously referred to as Green Corn Dance, Tablita Dance Fiesta Day or more simply, as Saint's Day. The ceremonies are a mixture of customs from catholicism and Indian religion and they run into several days, culminating finally in a public performance of dancing. The Cochiti Indians held their Tablita Dance on July 14 and it was on this day that we saw one for the first time. We saw several others before leaving the Southwest; one at Santa Ana on July 26, one at Santo Domingo on August 4, and one at Zia on August 15. For the Cochiti day we were fortunate in being able to go with Dr Charles Lange and his wife, who explained the solemnity and the significance of the Tablita Dance to us. Dr Lange did fieldwork in the Cochiti Pueblo for his Ph.D. thesis and thus he was an authority on these people and their way of life. It would be repetitive, though extremely interesting to describe each Tablita Dance we saw, so we will confine our comment to the most spectacular one we saw—the Santo Domingo ceremony.
Santo Domingo is southwest of Santa Fe. It is one of the largest Pueblo Indian groups in the Southwest and the people speak a language known as Keresan. The tourist misses most of the early morning ritual associated with the Tablita Dance, such as the early morning mass where several marriages are consecrated, this being a propitious and highly favoured day for marriage. There is also a historical pageant in which the spirit figures known as koshari encircle the village to place a spiritual cordon of protection around the people. Runners are sent out east, west, south and north and in time they return with messages from the frontiers. The north and south run-
ners return with a purifying liquid which the warriors drink. At the conclusion of the historical part of the ceremonies the participants return to their respective kivas.
The kivas are round-shaped adobe structures each with a ladder leading up to it and each with a hole at the top through which dancers disappear and re-appear. The pueblo is divided into two divisions, each with its own sacred kiva. The kiva divisions are known as the Turquoise and the Squash. Each kiva has its own set of dancers, its own standard—a pole some fifteen feet in length festooned with bunches of parrot and woodpecker feathers, beads, ocean shell and a highly symbolic fox skin—and its own set of spirit figures.
The Santo Domingo people are generally regarded as the most conservative of the Pueblo Indians. They will not permit inquisitive journalists and anthropologists into their pueblo to study the people nor will they answer any questions about the more intimate aspects of their ceremonies, nor permit recording of any kind, by tape recorder, camera or notebook. These strictures actually apply to all the Pueblo Indian villages. Visitors may, however, watch their tablita dance and I can verify the fact that the Santo Domingo tablita dance is an impressive and awe-inspiring spectacle. The people make a memorable occasion of it.
It is memorable because of its scale and the spirit in which it is performed. In the first group of performers we saw there were over 220 dancers in the team and they were supported by a chorus of nearly 100 persons. The other team numbered about 180 dancers with a supporting chorus of about eighty. The teams performed alternately from the morning until sundown. The day was beautifully clear and very hot. Spectators who had arrived before us
The costume of the Santo Domingo tablita dancers. Both hold greenery in their hands. The woman wears a decorated tablita on her head, and her dress is black with bands in red. Around her neck are turquoise ornaments. The man has greenery on his arm bands, turquoise ornaments around his neck and a rattle in his right hand. The sketch shows the typical stance of the dancers. (After Roediger, 1961)
The costume of the drummer and members of the chorus is completely different from that of the dancers. The drummer wears a long shirt and pyjama-like trousers. He also wears turquoise ornaments around his neck and a decorated metal belt around his waist
had appropriated most of the available shade around the plaza, so we climbed up onto the adobe roofs on the north side where the view was good. A westerly breeze was blowing, occasionally kicking up clouds of dust which temporarily enveloped the entire plaza. The adobe dust, the heat, the spectators sitting on the ground or on chairs, or perched up on the roofs as we were, and the gay colours of Indian dress all added to the general setting for the dancing.
With its standard raised high and the drum beating, the Turquoise kiva group from the east side of the plaza made its way behind the buildings and finally emerged from the western end of the plaza. First to appear on the dancing ground was a koshari, a man dressed in loincloth and his body painted in ghostly fashion. Behind him came the standard bearer dressed in white and then followed a sprinkling of costumed dancers. Meanwhile to their left the drummer came into view followed by a solid mass of the brightly costumed members of the chorus. The chorus arranged itself into five files after which one member stepped forward and took over the drum while the other melted into the chorus. The koshari and standard bearer stood their ground waiting for the drummer to begin the dance. During the waiting period the rest of the dancers fell in behind them in two files with male and female dancers alternating in each.
The drummer was now ready. He began pounding his drum at first slowly and then accelerating the rhythm until the correct tempo had been reached. Then the chorus began stepping in time to the drum and finally burst into a chant. The concerted noise from about 100 voices filled the whole plaza. When the chorus members began stepping to time so did the koshari and the standard bearer. A loud rattling noise from the male dancers heightened the atmosphere of excited expectancy and the dancing began. At the eastern end of the plaza was a covered shed in which an effigy of the village's saint was housed. The koshari with the dancers following pranced their way slowly towards the shrine. As they advanced more and more dancers fell in behind until finally the whole group of nearly 220 dancers had joined. The two lines of dancers were so long that, hardly were all performers actually in the plaza area when it was time for the leading koshari and standard bearer to turn because they had reached the covered shrine. They turned, keeping in step and to the rhythm of the drum and the chant. They danced in between the two lines while each line made a left U-turn gradually snaking towards the western end of the plaza. Thus back and forwards they went, keeping strict time all the way, and changing the choreographical pattern each time. The dancers were going through a definite sequence.
Each line of dancers is led by a man and the tail ends of the lines gradually diminish in height because the children are positioned there. The Turquoise group had eight kosharis, one generally leading while the others wove in, out and between the lines. Their freedom of movement contrasted against the strict patterned movements of the dancers. Every now and again a koshari would rush over to a dancer to restore any item of costume which may have dropped off or loosened. The koshari often performed humorous little antics which delighted the spectators and raised smiles on the dancers' faces. They also encouraged the dancers in their gruelling marathon of forty-five minutes of dancing in the burning sun. There were some among them who were superb solo dancers.
The general purpose of all the ceremonial seems to be a concerted effort to effect some control over the forces of nature, to bridge the gap, as it were, between man and nature. The spirits are invoked to bring rain which will increase the chances for successful crops, which in turn will ensure the livelihood of the villagers for the season. These are agricultural people who live in a country where growing conditions are difficult, without irrigation. It is an article of faith among the Indians that the ceremonial will bring rain. The Indians' faith does not appear to be altogether groundless. It rained at San Felipe on July 25, at Santa Ana on July 26, at Puye on July 31 and at 6 p.m. at Santo Domingo the rain came down!
The custom at all the tablita dances is for the two kiva groups to dance until sundown. It is interesting to reflect upon the fact that the practice of dancing until sundown with two teams alternating has also been recorded for New Zealand. At
Some of the boys who took part in the dancing at Puye during the celebrations of 1966
—photo by the authors
We saw three gatherings of Indians which were not traditional as is the case with the tablita dances. Each was a response to the modern situation. The first of these was the Puye Cliff Ceremonial which we saw on July 31. It is an annual event and the one which we witnessed was the tenth one held. Situated north of Santa Fe, Puye is part of the Santa Clara Indian Reservation. It is perched atop a table mountain in the Pajarito Plateau. The village, as it stands today, is an archaeological site, in which the buildings have been excavated, stabilised but not reconstructed. An archaeologist, called Edgar Hewett, excavated it in 1907 and recovered 4,270 artifacts from it—stone figures, polishing stones, potsherds and round shaped metates for grinding corn. After excavation the site was returned to the Santa Clara Indians, who now use it as a tourist attraction and as the venue for their annual Puye Cliff ceremony. This could well provide an example which some enterprising Maori tribes might like to follow. It is a way of utilising archaeological sites on tribal lands.
The ceremony is run like a gala day with stalls selling food, drinks and curios and with teams performing dances. Tourists are welcomed and they are permitted to move around, ask questions and take photographs, all for $1.25 per adult. Here we saw exhibitions of the buffalo dance, the rainbow dance, the corn dance performed by 28 children, the basket dance, the eagle dance, the hoop dance and Santa Clara's version of a war dance. These were performed with a great deal of grace and attention to detail. An ‘emcee’ explained each item for the visitors.
It was at Puye where we saw another idea which Maoris could well take up. In one stall, Indian women were selling paraoa parai (fried bread) which was made on the spot. Each wheel of golden paraoa parai cost 25 cents each. The stall was a very popular one and the women running it were kept very busy. It is fun to see your ‘order’ frying in the pan. In taste the Indians' fried bread was just like ours. Since so many Maori women are expert at making this kind of bread there is no reason why similar stalls cannot be started here. It could be as good a ‘money-spinner’ here in New Zealand as it was at Puye.
The second non-traditional gathering of Indians occurred at Gallup not far from the Arizona border. What we saw was called the 1966 Inter-tribal Indian Ceremonial and this was the 45th held since its beginning in 1922. This is really an exciting and big time annual event for Indians and tourists alike. On a Friday afternoon, August 12, we found the grounds where the event was being held. There were huge exhibit halls there, where one could see Indian artists displaying their personal work and demonstrating their skills. Katchina doll manufacturers worked at their trade, Navaho sand painters showed
A typical kind of outdoor adobe oven used by the Pueblo women for baking their bread. The oven shown here is at San Ildefonso
—photo by courtesy of New Mexico Department of Development
That night we attended the evening performance of singing and dancing by Indians from all over the Southwest, for example, by the Navaho, Zuni, Taos Laguna, Apache, Hopi, Utes and Crow Indians, to mention but a few. The programme began with a Navaho medicine man making fire by the traditional method. With his fire the huge log fires in the arena were ignited and then other fires on top of the hill where the Indians camped were also lit. The fires signalled the start of the grand parade of all the evening's performers, who were introduced in turn as they came before the emcee's box. Later the grounds were blessed by an Indian chief and then a speech of welcome on behalf of the Indians was given by another Indian leader. With these formalities over, the dancing and singing items began. We saw once again exhibitions of the buffalo dance, the hoop, basket, eagle and war dance but there were many dances performed here which we had not seen previously, such as the sunflower
dance of the Zuni, the butterfly dance of the San Juan, the hohokam dance of the Pima. One of the great advantages of attending the Gallup ceremonial is the fact that one gets a chance to see a great variety of well-performed dances. As well as this, one gets an opportunity of seeing many different Indian groups with their distinctive costumes.
The third non-traditional gathering was held at Santa Fe: this was the Annual Indian Market which we saw on August 20. One side of the city square or plaza was given to Indian craftsmen and women who set up their stalls right in front of the Palace of the Governors. For two days the city gave the Indians a chance of selling their wares in a part of the city which was bound to attract a huge volume of visitors and potential buyers. Indians taking part were the Jemez, San Juan, Santa Clara, Tesuque, Acoma, Santo Domingo, Cochiti and San Ildefonso. The wares being sold included rugs, pottery, rings, brooches, bracelets, necklaces, and dolls. These were all handmade objects. It seemed to us that the Market was one more example of a deliberate effort on the part of the city fathers to find a place in Santa Fe for the local Indians. The general atmosphere was happy, gay and indicative of hopeful racial relations. One of the men responsible for the Market was Mr Al Packard whom we had the pleasure of meeting on several occasions. A lot of the organisation and the worry for the Market fell upon his very adequate shoulders. As to who actually profits from the Market the answer is, obviously both the Indians and the city merchants. But the occasion is social as well as economic. I met many of Santa Fe's notable citizens there and on the Sunday the Market area was packed with people and the Indians were doing fairly good business.
So far we have written mainly about the Pueblo Indians. We did, however, drive through the extensive territory of the Navaho Indians in the northwestern part of New Mexico. Some 31,650 Navahos live in the State of New Mexico, but a larger number, 57,200 live in Arizona. Though their reservation contains 16,000,000 acres, most of it is semi-desert, rocky and sandy. In some areas it is claimed that 240 acres are required to maintain one sheep per year (Dutton 1965: 40). The hogans (dwellings) of the Navahos are much smaller than the settlements of the Pueblo Indians near Santa Fe. Each settlement consisted of about eight to ten houses and each settlement is many miles from the next one. Many of the Navahos, who dress like cowboys, rode not broncos but half-ton pickup trucks, either a Ford or a GMC. When travelling through the Navaho reservation we saw more vehicles pulled up on the side of the road because of punctures than we saw anywhere else in the United States. This reminded us very much of our own people in back-country areas of New Zealand where the puncture is an ever-present hazard. Maori and Navaho drivers seem to share the common misfortune of frequent punctures.
Hemmed in by Navaho land is the reservation of 631,000 acres which belongs to the Hopi Indians. The villages of the Hopi are situated on three high mesas or table mountains, known as First Mesa, Second Mesa and Third Mesa. At a meeting of anthropologists and archaeologists at Flagstaff, Arizona, we were told that a snake dance was to be held at the village of Shongopovi, on the Second Mesa. A number of the participants, including us, deserted the Pecos Conference and headed northwards to Tubo City and then eastwards to the Second Mesa. Much of the country north of Flagstaff looked like the inside of a red-hot brick kiln—stark, strangely beautiful but forbidding. We were thankful to be seeing this wild, fire-of-hell country on the run. The date was August 27 and we reached Shongopovi village at 2.15 p.m. about two hours too soon because the snake dance was scheduled to begin at 4 p.m.
Our early arrival gave us plenty of time to look around and try to find a handy position from which to view the ceremonies. Indian custom does not help much in this quest. Here, as in the pueblos near Santa Fe, the people are invited into the plaza which is the public arena but the boundaries of the plaza are marked by the houses of the local Indians. The owners of these houses, naturally establish claim to the areas adjacent to their homes so that the outsider does not get much of a choice. The more wealthy visitors could, however, buy a seat on an owner's rooftop—somewhat like our Scotsman's stands at Eden Park,
Auckland. Though visitors are welcome to attend Indian ceremonies nothing is done to provide comforts for them. Visitors must fend for themselves. The Indian explanation for this is that the celebrations are religious ceremonies which are part of their life. They are not staged specifically for visitors. To one accustomed to the Maori scene, the almost cavalier treatment of visitors by the Pueblo Indians stands in marked contrast. This practice impressed upon us how different the attitudes of the Pueblo Indians to the Great American Society are from Maori attitudes to Pakeha society. The Pueblo Indians almost ignore white visitors while Maoris pay almost too much attention to them.
Just before 4 p.m. a group of snake dancers dressed simply in a blanket wrapped around the waist or stomach filed into the plaza from their kiva and walked towards a temporary structure of cottonwood at the opposite end of the plaza. They crowded around the entrance of the structure which was marked by a white woven blanket. Breaking from the huddle, the dancers proceeded to insert bamboo branches into the structure in which the snakes were kept. The job completed they filed back to their kiva and disappeared into it.
Nothing further happened until 4 p.m. when out of the adobes came the snake maidens, fourteen of them, dressed in black and red costumes and with their hair done in a variety of coiffures. The snake maidens, each with a bowl of white corn meal sat on forms arranged in three rows to one side of the plaza. About fifteen minutes later, members of the chorus formed a single file and walked briskly towards the cottonwood snake-house. Each held two small rattles, one in each hand and each man had the area around the mouth and lower jaw blackened, giving the appearance of a black gag. Their costume was very similar to that of the corn dancers of Santo Domingo except that they carried no greenery. The group circled the plaza in an anti-clockwise direction three times. Each time one of them came directly in front of the snake-house he sprinkled corn meal onto the ground and tramped it into the ground with the right foot. The stamping upon the corn meal produced a hollow thud which suggested there was a hollow of some kind below the spot. After each chorus member had done the stamping ritual three times the chorus formed a file on each side of the snake-house and rustled their gourds quietly to a simple one-two time.
Then out of the kiva came the twenty-five snake dancers, this time vastly changed in appearance. Their faces were blackened and their hair smeared with clay. Waist garments were of a reddy ochre colour and appeared to be made of buck skin. On their feet they wore moccasins also of an ochre colour and the rest of the body was painted in ochre. Behind the knee joint and just below it each dancer had turtle-shell rattles which made a distinctive low rattling noise. Like the previous group, the dancers circled the plaza and performed the corn meal sprinkling ritual followed by a solid stamp. The ritual was performed six times in front of the snake-house after which the dancers formed into a large circle with members of the chorus.
Chanting then began, accompanied by the rhythmic rustling of the gourds flourished
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by the chorus members. The dancers held a long feather in the right hand and this was handled like a soundless rattle being switched up and down and then from side to side. The low chanting plus the soft rustling of seeds within the small gourds created a serious ceremonial atmosphere for what was to follow. The spectators watched in expectant silence for a full twenty minutes during which time the dancers began to perspire. They were standing in the burning sun which was sufficient to make even the spectators drip perspiration.
The chant over, there was a regrouping of the dancers and the chorus. The chorus members formed an open U-formation on either side of the snake-house while fourteen of the dancers paired off. The inside dancer of each pair rested his right hand on the right shoulder of his partner. The chorus struck up a different beat and the paired dancers began a solemn dance around the plaza again in an anti-clockwise direction. The dance was slow and heavy with a strong accent on the right foot which produced a thud and an equally heavy rattle
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PRIVATE BAG, C.1.
and at Papakura, Papatoetoe, and
of the turtle-shell. The dancers who were not paired remained inside the circle of the dancers. Up until this time no snakes had been handled, but the moment had arrived. As the paired dancers approached the cottonwood snake-house the outside dancer bent down, approached the house and picked up a small snake from within it. He held the snake in his mouth, its head to the right side of the mouth and the tail dangling down on the left. Some dancers held the snake's tail in the left hand. With the snake secured, the pair of dancers continued their anti-clockwise dance. After a snake had been danced around the plaza it was released on the ground and watched by the free dancers. On each succeeding round the snakes handled became larger.
Towards the end of the dance there were snakes galore in the plaza. Several of the inside dancers had handfuls of them, likewise the chorus members. The outside dancer of each pair held a large snake in his mouth and each time one came abreast of the snake maidens, sprinklings of corn meal were thrown on him by the maidens. It was an awesome spectacle to watch. The spectators looked on in wonder mixed with fear. A keen eye was fixed on the snakes writhing about on the ground because some of them were attempting to escape into the crowds. The free dancers, however, watched them and kept them away from the spectators. Eventually the dance ended and the snakes were taken up by runners and returned to the areas from which they were gathered. As far as we could tell no dancer was bitten by a snake. If the dancers were concerned for their own safety they showed no sign of it but we were certainly fearful and apprehensive on their behalf, It was a great relief, therefore, to see the snake dance of Shongopovi come to an end.
The only other ‘snake-dance we saw was at Bountiful, Utah, It was performed by Mr Robert (Apache) McLean, a Utah schoolteacher, who has made a life-time hobby of learning and performing Indian dances. We met him at the home of Hinauri and Bill Tribole, a spot in the United States which is familiar to all who have met the Triboles and been entertained by them. The Tribole home is a marae for Maori and Pakeha visitor alike. It was at this marae that Apache performed his snake
dance. I took the opportunity of checking my observation of the Shongopovi snake dance with Apache.
Among the many things he told me the most important are the following; (1) the timing of the dance depends on when the first rays of the rising sun strike a certain landmark. (2) The snake dance goes through a nine-day cycle. What we saw was the final day. (3) The snakes are collected well before the ninth day, from areas marked off in cardinal directions, east, west, north and south. (4) One should avoid meeting a snake collector when he is gathering snakes. The penalty is to hand over to him valuables, money or food. (5) The snakes are returned roughly to the same areas from which they were collected. (6) When the snakes curl up under rocks it is thought that they are in contact with the underworld. (7) When the dancers tramp the ground in front of the snake-house, called a kīsi, they strike a board, which is connected with a drain-like connection, called a sipapu, to the kiva. This underground channel is thought to be connected with the underworld, that is, with the Indian's version of the Maori Rarohenga. (8) Some of the young snake dancers are undergoing their final initiation tests for kiva membership. (9) The initiates usually handle the largest snakes. (10) The snake dancer's partner is referred to as the ‘hugger’, and his job is to hold the attention of the snake by waving his feather wand.
Such, then, were the Indian activities which we saw while in the Southwest. There is little in the Maori experience which prepares one to observe the Indians, their way of life and the land upon which they dwell. The Indians are brown-skinned but their costumes and manner of dressing have always been totally different from that of the New Zealand Maori. The objects and ornaments made by the Indians are part of a different world view and are based on a natural environment nothing like the temperate zone of New Zealand. The agricultural pursuits of the two peoples were centred around a different crop; whereas the Indians were essentially corn-growers the Maoris were sweet-potato cultivators. The Indians and the Maoris, however, share one feature in common. They are both minority groups. Consequently, some of the problems
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they face today are the same. What is of particular interest to Maori observers is to see how another minority group, in this case, the Southwest Indians of the United States, faces and meets the challenges of the present situation. Here we cannot avoid the temptation of comparing notes because we are part of the situation. A comparison of the progress made by the two minority groups, bearing in mind their different histories and circumstances, leads us to conclude that the New Zealand Maori should be proud of what he has accomplished.
As a minority group the Maori has made tremendous strides which tend to be overlooked and overshadowed by the emphasis on present shortcomings. By contrast, the Southwest Indians appear to be more hesitant about reaching out into the Pakeha world. This hesitancy, however, does not apply to Pakeha technology. The Indians are just as keen on cars, trucks, refrigerators and television sets as the New Zealand Maoris. Their caution springs from their fear that the Pueblo social and religious order will be destroyed by the Great Society if they do not contain it.
The Pueblo Indians have succeeded in retaining much of their social organisation and a great deal of their religious and ritual practices. The corn dances and the Hopi snake dance we saw are evidence of this. They have managed to stem the disruptive inroads of the Great Society over a much longer period of contact than is the case in New Zealand. In this respect they are much more successful than the New Zealand Maori and it could well be that they have lessons to offer the Maori. Actually, there is much that one group can learn from the other. It would be to the mutual benefit of both minority groups if cultural inter-changes could be arranged between the Pueblo Indians of the Southwest and the Maoris of New Zealand. The
time has come for the Maori to use one of his new nets to fish up ideas from international waters.
Dutton, Bertha P. (Ed.), 1965. Indians of the Southwest (Pocket Handbook). Santa Fe, Southwestern Association on Indian Affairs, Inc.
An easy-to-read reference book and essential reading for any visitor to the Southwest. The handbook provides information on the past and the present of the Indians, on their arts and crafts and on their ceremonies and dances.
Roediger, Virginia M., 1961. Ceremonial Costumes of the Pueblo Indians. Berkeley, University of California Press.
The author deals very fully with the ceremonial costumes used in such dances as the tablita, buffalo, eagle, eagle katchina, deer and many others. The book is well illustrated.
Squires, John L. and Robert E. McLean, 1963. American Indian Dances. New York, Ronald Press Company.
Dances are described and the steps and movements are illustrated. The second author is an undisputed authority and an exponent of Indian dancing.
Underhill, Ruth, 1953. Red Man's America: A History of Indians in the United States. Chicago, University of Chicago Press.
Chapters 8 and 9 deal specifically with the Southwest and describe the history of the Mogollon, Hohokam, Pueblo, Pimians, Navaho and Apache.
Watson, Don, 1961. Indians of the Mesa Verde. Colorado Mesa Verde Museum Association and Mesa Verde National Park.
The book is concerned with the pro-history of the Indians who used to inhabit the spectacular cliff houses at Mesa Verde, Colorado. The book is easy to read and the story is fascinating.
White, Leslie, A., 1962. The Pueblo of Sia, New Mexico (Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 184). Washington, Government Printing Office.
The book provides a detailed description of the people of Sia, whose pueblo we visited. It deals with the social organisation, religion and ceremonials of the people and contains a description of the tablita dance. The author is a well-known anthropologist.
Wormington, H. M., 1964. Prehistoric Indians of the Southwest. Denver, Denver Museum of Natural History.
This book is recommended for readers interested in the archaeology of the area.
There are, of course, many other books, pamphlets and articles published in journals which one could read. The literature on the Southwest is vast and extensive. What is listed here provides merely a good starting point.
Centennial of Rapaki Church
Celebrations beginning with mihi on Saturday, 3 May, and concluding with tea on Sunday, 4 May, will be held to mark the centennial of the Rapaki Church, near Lyttelton. All Maori and Pakeha friends are welcome to attend.
Ana', ‘Ere e Poi’, ‘Ringa Ipuia’, and none of the individual items are described. This seems indicative of a shoddy approach to the whole venture. Clubs must supply record companies with accurate spellings and descriptions of their items if they want the record in all its aspects to reflect credit on themselves.
Tuwharetoa Timber Incorporations
Maori timber incorporations in the Ngati Tuwharetoa tribal area in the centre of the North Island, have in recent years not only enabled the Maori owners to gain full value from their timber and lands, but have been investing surplus monies in modern buildings to provide another valued source of income.
First to do so was Proprietors Puketapu 3A Block Inc., which erected a concrete two-storey office block in the centre of Taumarunui. Besides the incorporation's own offices and board room, the block houses several government departments in modern office suites, and produces a regular income from rentals.
In 1967 a second incorporation erected a two-storey office block in the new Turangi township, which is also revenue producing, being fully occupied by tenants.
Most recent was the action of Hauhungaroa 2C Block Inc., which spent $100,000 on a two-storey showroom and office block, also at Taumarunui. As investments, all three are proving profitable for their owners.
The Hauhungaroa building, named ‘Te Maunga House’, has added interest from the Maori viewpoint, in that the construction was done by the firm of Johnson Bros.
The three young Maori brothers and their staff have earned an enviable reputation for efficiency and were also the builders of the Taumarunui Borough Council's modern chambers.
In many other cases and other areas, once the bush has been felled, the land has reverted to scrub and cutover bush and is almost totally non-productive.
Under the wise guidance of management committees over the years, the incorporations have used a percentage of the royalties from timber sales to develop the cleared land into rich pasture and to stock it.
The ‘father’ of Maori timber incorporations is Taumarunui Maori leader and scholar Dr Pei Te Hurinui Jones, O.B.E., and they are based to some degree on land incorporations which have operated successfully on the East Coast.
Dr Jones was employed at one time by the Department of Maori and Island Affairs at the time it was known as the Native Department, and was appointed to pioneer Maori land development under the auspices of the Department. The then Minister for Maori Affairs, Sir Apirana Ngata, invited him to visit the East Coast to see how the incorporations were operating. During his month there Dr Jones was greatly impressed by the system and stored the knowledge away for further use. Dr Jones had interests in forests in the Lake Taupo area and when State Highway 41 was pushed through to the lake in the early post World War II years—until then the road had gone only to the Waituhi trig—there was access to work on the development of the timber resources.
When the first move was made towards the establishment of the first incorporation, Proprietors Puketapu 3A Block Inc., Dr Jones met with a lot of departmental opposition. At a meeting of owners at Waihi pa, attended by the then Minister, Mr Skinner, and his officers, both Maori Affairs and Forest Service, a motion was finally carried by the people. Mr Skinner generously wished Dr Jones luck in the new venture but the departmental officers ‘threw up their hands in despair’ and predicted early failure.
The management committee had to work in the face of considerable opposition for three or four years, but then faith in the proposal started to bear fruit and progress was made.
The Government had offered to take over the marketing of the timber at a guarantee of four shillings per 100 feet royalty for the whole area. Some incorporations today are receiving about $2.50 per 100 feet.
Puketapu at one time operated its own sawmills and joinery factories, but sold these a few years ago to the Fletcher organization
for $2 million—a far cry from the days when 4s. per 100 feet was offered.
Proprietors Puketapu 3A Block Inc. controls 16,000 acres, of which 4,000 acres is in grass and the rest is in virgin and worked-over bush. More development is constantly being planned. The highly successful farming operations are being carried out under the supervision of Mr P. Hura, O.B.E. Puketapu bush still has approximately six or seven more years of cutting at the present rate.
Proprietors Hauhungaroa 2C Block Inc. originally had 8,000 acres, which was half in top quality bush. Unlike Puketapu, which has had to overcome difficult topography, the Hauhungaroa 2C bush has been on fairly easy contoured land. This incorporation later bought out 4,000 acres of the adjoining Waihaha 3D2 block from the Maori owners and also administers the 6,000 acre Whakarawa block under trust. The incorporation was formed in 1947 with Mr Robert Keepa as its chairman, a position he has held since.
The management committee recognized early the need to replace the dwindling timber and so started land development on behalf of the 200 or more shareholders. In the first 13 years there were 70 million feet of timber taken from the block and today Mr W. Porteous is carrying out logging operations on behalf of the incorporation at a rate of about six million log feet a year. There is an estimated seven years of cutting left at the present rate. The bush roading has been useful for farm access, and since farm development started in 1958, 4,500 acres have been developed.
Further development is following the bush working. A programme of re-afforestation has been undertaken and 50 acres is already planted in radiata pine and Douglas fir.
According to Mr Keepa, with 300 acres of bush being cut each year, the plan is to plant 100 acres in trees and 200 acres in grass. The new farmland is being broken in by contractors while four permanent stockmen and three general hands are engaged to care for the 9,000 ewes, 3,000 dry sheep, 500 cows and the quantity of run cattle that is currently being carried on the property.
Logging operations are still being carried out by yet another incorporation, Hauhungaroa 1C. Of a total of 10,000 acres, there are still three or four years of cutting left. There are 3,000 acres under grass. As the timber royalties on the block were not as substantial as those of Puketapu or the 2C block, the Department of Maori and Island Affairs has been carrying out the development on behalf of the owners.
Oraukura 3 Block Inc. has had a close alliance of management with Hauhungaroa 1C and Puketapu blocks and is turning out to be a valuable block of land. In the early days, this area, which adjoins Puketapu, had some sheep farming carried out and the only flax mill in the area was located here. There are about 3,000 acres in the block of which 1,500 acres is either in grass or ready for sowing down. The Department of Maori and Island Affairs is also developing this block.
The Hautu Incorporation at one time owned a block of land which the owners withheld from sale when the Crown bought the land for the Tongariro prison farms. The area held back was around the trout spawning grounds for Lake Taupo. In order to protect the spawning grounds the Crown exchanged a block of bush which is now being worked.
So from small beginnings have grown large financial interests and the future is being protected for Maori land owners by incorporation.
years behind other boys of the same age when they left the hostels. In their free time the boys tended to move round in their hostel groups and sometimes were ‘marked out for trouble’ by other groups of teenagers.
Speakers agreed that there was no single answer to the boys' problems, and the boys admitted that they were mostly unwilling to accept invitations to attend Maori Clubs or to visit the homes of local Maoris, except when they were relatives.
The general opinion was that older people should interest themselves in organisations aimed at helping young people before and after they got into trouble, and let the community know they were prepared to help.
Brief Visit Home
Well-known as a ‘blues singer’ before she left for England 12 years ago, Myra Love, now Mrs George Cutts, returned to New Zealand for a few weeks recently.
When she first went to England, jobs were hard to get, and at first she did ‘gigs’ — one night stands — in provincial towns, but later had a successful career singing in cabarets and nightclubs in Norway, France, Germany and England. As well as her European trips, Myra sang in America, Hong Kong and various Eastern cities.
One of the reasons for her visit home was to sing in the big concert sponsored by the New Zealand Maori Council as a start to ‘Rangitahi Week’.
Myra's husband is a sculptor, working with metal. Besides his own creative work, he teaches sculpture at Ravensbourne College, Bromley. They live in Greenwich, in a Georgian-style house, called ‘Hyde Vale’ and clearly dated 1840. It was originally built for a captain at the Royal Naval College, and is big enough to include a studio.
They have three children, Thea, six years old, Shane, four, and Seth, two. They are already showing signs of talent, Thea in painting and Shane in music. The family often go to Italy for holidays, and they hope eventually to buy an old mill at Casciana Alta, to use as a holiday home.
Myra doesn't do much performing now, as there is not much demand for her style of singing, and her family keeps her busy. She has done some research for historical articles for a local newspaper, and hopes to do more of this part-time work on her return.
While in New Zealand Myra recorded for the N.Z.B.C., for television, and fulfilled some cabaret engagements.
The six boys demonstrating at the stall. Left to right, standing: Ossie Renata, Matata, Tyrone Paikea, Ngaruawahia, Ben McKay, Hastings. In front: Sam Lemmon, Tokoroa, John Ngatai, Hawera, David Huriwaka, Murupara
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Six young trainees from the Wellington Maori Carpentry Training Centre at Seaview, were chosen to man a stall at this year's Hutt Valley Industries Fair at Petone.
They were Sam Lemmon, Tokoroa, John Ngatai, Hawera, Tyrone Paikea, Ngaruawahia, David Huriwaka, Murupara, Ossie Renata, Matata, and Ben McKay of Hastings.
The boys built their own stall under the watchful eye of the senior instructor, Mr Stan Hunt. It was very near the entrance to the Fair, and the excellent work done by the boys aroused a lot of interest and comment. The boys were kept busy, taking turns at demonstrating and answering questions on the trade training schemes.
As part of ‘Rangitahi Week’, members of the New Zealand Maori Council made two visits to Trentham on Saturday, 24 August. The first was to Wi Tako, a penal institution for first offenders, where the council was met and challenged by members of the Maori Club.
After the welcoming speeches, Mr Hobson the Superintendent asked Council members for their help, saying that they could approach their local probation officers, police and Prisoners' Aid Society branch. He said that in many cases when men went to prison their wives and families also commenced a sentence and needed help far beyond the financial assistance handed out by society. Mr Hobson also commended the
During the Maori Council's visit to the Trentham Hostel, Mrs Miria Karauria, President of the Maori Women's Welfare League chats to Sam Lemmon, Tokoroa, and Harry Mahanga, Whangarei
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Following morning tea the visiting party went on to the Maori Apprentices' Hostel, where after a challenge, welcoming speeches, song and haka, lunch and a look at the boys' quarters, some of the problems faced by the boys were discussed.
One speaker considered that although the trade trainees were given very good technical training, socially they were three
Mrs Letty Brown of Te Atatu, receives the Wi Tako Trophy as ‘Young Maori Woman of the Year’
National Publicity Studios
One of the highlights of the Maori Council's ‘Focus on Maori Youth Week’ was the presentation of the ‘Young Maori Man of the Year’ and ‘Young Maori Woman of the Year’ awards.
Mrs Letty Brown of Te Atatu, who had been chosen the winner at the Maori Women's Welfare League Conference in Whangarei, received a medallion, $100, and the Wi Tako Trophy. In addition, $900 was placed in trust to be used by Mrs Brown in her communtiy work.
Similar cash awards and a medallion were given to the ‘Young Maori Man of the Year’. Mr Apanui (Neil) Watene, son of the late P. T. Watene, M.P., who has followed his father as welfare officer at the Gear Meat Company, Petone. The cash awards and medallions were given by Sir Jack Butland, and his generosity was praised by speakers at the function, Sir Turi Carroll, president of the Maori Council, Mrs Miria Karauria, president of the Maori Women's Welfare League, and the Minister of Maori Affairs, Mr J. R. Hanan, who made the presentations. Speaking on behalf of Sir Jack Butland was Mr K. Simich.
About 300 guests attended the function, held at the New Zealand Display Centre. Entertainment was given by Maori artists.
Forum and Concert
The following day, in a forum held at Ngati Poneke Hall, discussion on the Maori Council's contact with young people resulted in the suggestion that a Junior Maori Council be formed. This was to be discussed by the executive.
Climax of the weekend was a Maori concert in St James' Theatre, where a variety of entertainers performed before a capacity audience which included the Governor-General, Sir Arthur Porritt and Lady Porritt. Maori clubs gave traditional items and the Maori Theatre Trust performed the creation scene from James Ritchie's ‘He Mana Toa’. Other items were given by Myra Love. Peter and Isobel Cowan, Howard Morrison, the Nick Smith Trio, the Ratana Junior Brass Band, and Inia Te Wiata, accompanied by Maurice Till.
Harakeke Weaving School
‘He kakano i ruia mai …’ The seed was sown … four years ago, following my chance meeting and continued association with craftswomen who were in the throes of forming a New Zealand Chapter of the World Craft Council; craftswomen well established in their own work—Nan Berkeley, ceramics and pottery; Dorothea Turner, spinning and weaving; Jenny Pain, whose specialty is the designing and screen printing of fabrics. I wish you could see their work. These women—and others in their groups—had long been aware of the absence from their midst of Maori crafts and crafts-people. Then, as I said, by chance we met and I became the bridge between their work and ours.
Each of these women is also involved in teaching her craft to any one who is keen and enthusiastic; and they convinced me that I too should take up the torch and light the way to Harakeke Weaving School.
Circulars went out in February to spread the idea and sound out interest within Arts and Crafts circles; other people heard of my plans and telephoned for further information, until eventually over a hundred notices were posted. By July 31, my file held 25 definite enrolments for August 1968, plus 12 starters for a May 1969 school if one could be arranged. An article on the school published in the ‘Dominion’, brought in further enquiries, to bring the 1969 waiting list up to 24. There was also a letter asking if a school could be arranged at Waipukurau.
The enrolments came from a wide range of people and places: Commercial teachers at Wellington Polytech; a retired doctor from Rotorua, fabric weavers, a Wellington City Councillor, a young Rarotongan woman who will one day soon return to teach in the Cook Islands; a Pakeha Welfare Officer with the Department of Maori Affairs; secretaries, home-makers for busy professional men, a Continental woman whose line is fine embroidery; darling, elderly Miss Elizabeth Matheson, a potter of long standing, who had waited more than fifty years for this opportunity to learn flax weaving; and the baby of the class was 17-year-old Lesley Dalley who hopes to enter Teachers' Training College next year. Who knows, but our Harakeke School may point the way for her to specialise in Arts and Crafts, thus following in the steps of our tutor.
By good fortune, Cath Brown of Christ-church was ready, willing and free to come in August to teach us. We first met at the Dominion Conference of the Maori Women's Welfare League held at Dunedin in 1963, when she gave a most impressive demonstration of Maori Arts and Crafts. Originally from Taumutu, on the shores of
Lake Ellesmere, and of Ngaitahu, Cath Brown has been Craft Instructor with the Canterbury Education Department for about ten years now, and for us, she was an excellent teacher.
For our meeting place, I looked for an outsized room with tea-making facilities handy; and with further thought for creature comforts I hoped that central heating would be available—just in case it should turn cold! Well, we had all this and more at St. Mark's Church School opposite the Basin Reserve, Wellington. More, did I say? Yes, indeed. The entrance was through a large cloak-room with a concrete floor, ideal for storing our flax damp to keep it supple; and the playing area provided oodles of car-parking space. We were cosy indeed.
Now, the burning question of where to find flax enough to teach 25 people how to harvest it for the task in hand? The suggestion came to ring the caretaker of Queen Elizabeth Park, Paekakariki, and ask for permission to use the flax there. The answer was a friendly and helpful ‘Yes’. So, off to Paekakariki, to see how the land lay; and to be overwhelmed by the sight of grassy dales and undulating hills completely flax-covered—truly, a delightful spot.
Our opening day, Monday 26 August, dawned fine, sunny and warm and gave us a good start. Class members turned up bright and cheery, filling the room with an air of keen expectancy. Friends and well-
Canon Hohepa Taepa opened our school with prayers, followed by a short address which dovetailed beautifully with the tutor's lecture, ‘Flax in the eye of the Maori Weaver’, and with her first words, school was IN.
Before long, off came her shoes and she got down to the business of demonstrating the basic points and explaining techniques while she deftly made a small working mat after the style of a hangi cover. We soon saw that a foot served as a third hand to hold the flax strips in position, leaving both hands free to weave. With the aid
Surrounded by 11 Bishops, and kneeling in front of Archbishop Lesser, Rev. Manu Bennett takes his vows as Bishop of Aotearoa
National Publicity Studies
On St. Luke's day, Friday, 18 October 1968, the Reverend Manu Augustus Bennett was consecrated Bishop of Aotearoa and Suffragan Bishop to the Bishop of Waiapu in the Cathedra Church of St John the Evangelist at Napier.
He is the third man to hold this position, succeeding the Rt Rev. W. A. Panapa, who retired because of ill health, and following in the footsteps of his father, the first Bishop of Aotearoa, who was consecrated in the same spot almost 40 years before. This was the first consecration of a bishop in the new cathedral, which replaced the old building destroyed in the 1931 earthquake.
Over 1,800 people packed the cathedral for the two-hour service. The sermon was preached by the Rt Rev. Harry S. Kennedy, Bishop of Honolulu, in whose diocese Dr Bennett served as an assistant priest while studying at the University of Hawaii in 1954.
There were moving moments … the colourful procession, including representatives of other churches — one of the Roman Catholic priests present being Father David Bennett, the Bishop's nephew, recently consecrated as a priest … the presentation by Bishop Baines and Bishop Holland of
The retired Bishop of Aotearoa, the Rt Rev. Wiremu Panapa greets his successor
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The whole service was telecast ‘live’ on WNTV 1, and the technicians are to be congratulated on the complete silence and minimum disturbance with which they carried out their task.
Following the Cathedral service was a reception at Paki Paki marae, Hastings, where Bishop Bennett was challenged, welcomed, and presented with gifts. Pupils from Te Aute, Hukarere and St Joseph's Maori Girls' College joined the local residents in song and haka. Tribal representatives spoke, and a large contingent of Te Arawa expressed their delight in the honour bestowed on one of their members.
Among the gifts were a pastoral staff and ring presented by the Assistant Bishop of Polynesia, the Rt Rev. Helepua, cope and mitre from the Roman Catholic Church, and a bishop's cross made in totara by trainees at the Waikeria Detention Centre, where Dr Bennett had been chaplain for four years, an experience he said he would ‘never regret or forget’.
Brief speeches were made by Mr J. F. Henning, United States Ambassador, Arch-
The Royal New Zealand Navy Band playing ‘E Pari Ra’ in formal acceptance of the song as their official ‘slow march’
There were moments of fun and loud laughter … a rousing haka from the Maori clergy … a challenge from Arawa as to why the Bishop of Aotearoa was only a kaimahi, a servant, to the Archbishop — ‘This has been on my mind for several years, but you can give me a reply before I go home’ … Mr Roysion Brown quoting I he remark made by a Waikeria boy when he was told he was going to Bishop Bennett's consecration — ‘I didn't know he
Bishop Bennett's fellow-clergymen join in the hymn ‘Loving Shepherd of Thy Sheep’ as the welcoming speeches come to an end
The Rt Rev. E. Helepua, Assistant Bishop of Polynesia, hands Bishop Bennett a staff and ring, gifts from the retiring Bishop of Polynesia, the Rt. Rev. J. C. Vockler
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Before the guests sat down to a sumptuous meal, Commodore L. G. Carr, D. S. C., of the Royal New Zealand Navy, expressed thanks to the Tomoana family for allowing the use of the song ‘E Pari Ra’, composed by the late Mr P. H. Tomoana, as the Navy Band's official slow march. He presented a memorial plaque to Mrs Wi Huata, a member of the Tomoana family, and said that the lament would receive the greatest respect at all times and would be an integral part of the music, played on ceremonial occasions.
Fiftieth Anniversary of the
A special hui to mark the 50th anniversary of the founding of the Ratana faith was held at Ratana Pa on 8 and 9 November.
Many followers gathered from all over New Zealand, including a large group from Northland.
As the various groups arrived they were led on to the marae by the Ratana brass band. One special guest was the newly-consecrated Bishop of Aotearoa, the Rt Rev. Manu Bennett, who came with his wife and a party from Hastings. After the speeches of welcome the visitors were given refreshments while the people gathered in their robes ready for the commemorative service.
The band then led the people to the gates of the temple, and continued playing while church members and visitors filed in reverently for the service.
There, Bishop Bennett spoke; He said that during the war and in his work as a prison chaplain he had often ministered to Ratana members — that in prison there were members of all churches. He was glad to have the opportunity to get back to the roots and see where the boys came from. He said that young people were ‘stuck with the modern world’ and that to be successful they had to get their priorities right — they should ‘seek first the kingdom of God’.
He said the same advice could be given to the older people present. Speaking of the conflict between body and spirit, Bishop Bennett said, ‘Seek the thing that doesn't die, and all the things your body needs will be added.’
On the Saturday, Wanganui marching
Three young visitors discuss the greenstone articles in one of the display cases in the Ratana museum. In the background are walking sticks and crutches discarded by Ratana's followers
Mr Henry K. Edmonds, Vice-President of the church, crowns Miss Joyce Nikora of Rotorua ‘Miss 50th Anniversary’ as the other finalists look on
In the evening the ‘Girl of the Year’ Ball was held. Five branches of the Ratana Youth Organization had held local contests to find their ‘Miss Ratana Star’, and during the evening the finalists spoke briefly to the guests and presented themselves to the judges, Mr H. K. Edmonds, Vice-President of the Church, Mrs Ema Otene, Mrs Meretiane Smith and Mr Nakata Taiaroa. Miss Joyce Nikora, of Rotorua, ‘Miss Ratana Star of the East’, was the winner. Her prize was a trip to Australia.
For the younger visitors the ball was the highlight of the anniversary celebrations, but for the older people the renewing of old friendships and the recalling of earlier days together gave a sense of quiet satisfaction.
Seminar after Consecration
The day after his consecration as Bishop of Aotearoa, Bishop Bennett presided over a Seminar in the ‘Wool Exchange’, Napier. Three papers were presented; ‘Catholic Unity and the Multi-racial Society’, by the Rev. Watson Rosevear, sub-warden at St John's Theological College, Auckland; ‘The Churches' Mission to the Urban Maori’, by the Rev. Apirana Mahuika of Te Kaha; and ‘Church Schools and their Role in The Churches’ Mission to the Modern Maori’ by the Rev. Canon John Tamahori (right) and Mr Noel Vickridge, both of Te Aute College.
Each paper was followed with discussion by panel members and speakers from the floor. Discussion ranged fairly widely on topics related to the papers, and it was valuable for those who had been Pre- occupied with one particular branch of church life to see their ‘problem’ within the framework of the Church's total effort. Bishop Bennett thanked all those present for giving him a broad picture of the Church's activities.
Thai Girls Become ‘Kiwis’
Pupils from Suksanaree School, a large secondary school for girls in Thonburi, Thailand, chose New Zealand as their ‘country’ in a UNESCO sponsored exhibition, and asked the New Zealand Embassy
for help. Posters, information material and replicas of Maori artifacts were provided, and an officer of the Embassy visited the school to show films and to talk to the pupils.
Mrs Mel Taylor (née Georgina Bristowe), wife of the Deputy Director of the SEATO Public Information Office, taught the girls Maori action songs and stick games, which were performed throughout the two-day exhibition. They made their costumes themselves, and their exhibit, called ‘Kiwi Corner’, was a great success.
Ngai-Te-Rangi Challenge Shield
This shield has been presented by the Minister of Tourism and Publicity for competition in the intermediate section of the annual competitions at Tauranga.
The two figures on the shield are sea monsters called marakihau. They have human bodies, fishes' tails, and long tubular tongues for sucking in fish. These figures often represent a local Tauranga ancestor named Te-Tahi-o-Te-Rangi, a tohuniw who was marooned on White Island by his tribe. By powerful incantations he was able
The band of kowhaiwhai is a Ngai-Te-Rangi pattern copied from Te Whetu meeting house.
Jan Wilson, daughter of Mr and Mrs B. Wilson of Harris Street, Huntly, is an accomplished young gymnast.
She recently earned the distinction of being for the second year running the topscoring girl in the primary competition of the New Zealand Gymnastic Championships.
With two other pupils of Huntly West School, Marcia Hetet and Veda Berryman, Jan helped the South Auckland Primary Schools' gymnastic team to win the 1968 national title.
Te Aute Dux
Tiopira Baker has been awarded the Sir Peter Buck Memorial Medal presented by the Department of Maori and Island Affairs, as Dux of Te Aute College.
He will attend Canterbury University in 1969 to study for B.Sc. under an R.N.Z.A.F. Scholarship. Tiopira (Joey) was born in Gisborne, and was educated at Kekerengu, Blenheim, before going to Te Aute. One of Joey's essays was published in the ‘Younger Readers' Section’ of our last issue.
The annual Korimako Trophy contest was held in Wellington on 23 August, again at St Mary's College, Hill Street.
Judges were Mr H. Holst, Officer for Maori Education; Mr W. Parker, Department of University Extension, Victoria University; and Mrs Ami Johnson, a kindergarten director from Upper Hutt. The contestants were given an hour to prepare, without reference material, a speech on the topic ‘Because integration is the official policy in New Zealand, which aspects of Maori culture do you think it important the Maori should retain and the Pakeha adopt?’
The judges described the topic as a difficult subject for young people to tackle, but considered that the contest maintained the usual high standard. Raelene Beauchamp of Hastings Girls' High School was the winner, with Ursula Storey, Taupo-Nui-a-Tia College second, and Mary White of Gisborne Girls' High School third.
Pictured are the Prime Minister, the Rt Hon. K. J. Holyoake, who made the presentations, Mary, Raelene, Ursula and Mr A. H. Scotney, Vice-President of the New Zealand Post-Primary Teachers' Association, who sponsor the contest jointly with the Maori Education Foundation.
JOURNEY INTO THE PAST
Archaeological Survey, Wairarapa
E ngā iwi, e ngā hapū, e ngā pūkōrero, e ngā rangatira o Rangitāne, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou.
Tēnei mātou te Rōpū Rangatahi o te Kura Ako Māhita o Pōneke Te mihi atu nei ki a koutou katoa.
E ō mātou rangatira, ko ngā kōrero e mau ake nei i raro nei he whakaatu tēnei i ā mātou mahi e mahia nei e mātou i waenganui i a koutou arā kei te wananga mātou i te āhua o te noho o ngā tāngata o neherā i te takiwā ki Wairarapa, ki te wāhi e mōhiotia nei ko White Rock.
Much is imperfectly known, not fully understood or misconstrued about Maori history, because Maori tradition is family tradition, personal history, remembered and valued for the mana it gives the descendants, whereas Pakeha history is supposedly objective and concerned with the full sweep of events. When the outsider comes to
write, to translate and interpret Maori history, errors creep in, errors of commission and omission.
The omissions are innumerable: through the disintegration of Maori belief and custom under the impact of the Pakeha, through the withdrawal and the resentment consequent upon land confiscation and racial conflict, through the division between Maori generations, much that was once preserved by tapu has now been lost through tapu. The breakdown and the corruption of the concept of tapu has meant that the guardians of Maori history whose two-fold task was to preserve their knowledge and to pass it on to the next generation have died with their knowledge still locked within their minds, for they had found none worthy of their learning. This has happened and is still happening, as each succeeding generation turns from the Maori past toward a New Zealand present in which esoteric Maori knowledge seems to have scant functional relevance or practical value.
Archaeologists, as they potter over the landscape attempting to fill in some of the gaps in Maori history, must seem a little mad—harmlessly so to the average Pakeha, dangerously so to the average Maori who has a proper fear and abhorrence of the curio hunter, the kind of person who desecrates a wahi tapu for what he might gain. The archaeologist, too, despises this person, regards him as no more or less than a vandal, for souvenir hunters do not respect history, they destroy it. The first stage in initiating a ‘dig’ is to obtain the permission of those kaumatua most closely concerned, and the first studies of the New Zealand archaeologist are the tribal and local traditions of the area he intends to explore. The ultimate value of the work of the archaeologist is understanding. For instance, without Jim Eyles, Roger Duff and others like them, what would we know of the moa-hunter phase of Maori culture, of the way the moa-hunter lived, of the world the moa-hunter knew?
The aim of our Wairarapa coastal survey was to establish the borders of a region in which the Maori made widespread use of stone-walls and mounds for both functional and ritual purposes. Although not generally evident, stone-walls are to be seen on or near the occasional pa or habitation site in the Waikato, the far North, in Taranaki and Banks Peninsula, where they are a feature of former gardens, as in the Wairarapa. Is there a cultural relationship here, with Ngaitahu providing the link? What are the origins of this practice? Do the odd mounds and the ritual use of stone as a tuahu or altar in Palliser Bay bear any close resemblance to practices on a specific Polynesian island, or was stone construction in this coastal region and in Banks Peninsula simply a reaction to environment, a result of stony ground, few trees, and kumara to be planted and nurtured in a region of marginal climate?
There are other questions to be answered. Streams, slips and sea-erosion have, at different points, exposed two separate layers of organically darkened soil, implying two separate occupation-phases. Who were these people and why the apparently long interval with little, if any occupation? Pits, some with raised rims, some round, some square, ranging in size from 2 feet to 30 feet across are a feature of the area. Were the same people who utilised these pits those who built the ridgetop pas? And what were the uses of the various types of pits? Some of these questions are unanswered; some have been partly answered by others, particularly Mr Keith Cairns of Masterton and the late G. L. Adkin, who have done intensive work in this area.
Wellington Teachers College students had made three week-end or holiday trips into the Wairarapa coastal region before the Maori Education Seminar made its expedition to ‘White Rock’ in August. Each of these explorations has been spent mapping, photographing and recording sites, so that now we can see a fairly clear-cut pattern, from the Whareama River, one hundred miles south and then east into Palliser Bay, a pattern of intensive gardening with stonewall shelters and possible diversion of streams (hitherto unknown in pre-European Maori agriculture) in those small areas of micro-climate where conditions of soil, slope and shelter from frost and wind made kumara cultivation feasible.
The ‘White Rock’ area was found to be typical of the region, with predominantly coastal settlement, one large pa, a series of smaller ridge-top encampments further north towards ‘Tora’ with a large kainga and many smaller lowland sites in close relationship with the pa or gardens. On a river plateau near the mouth of the
Opouawe River we found a stone fireplace, four 18-inch long slabs of rock, almost buried by the passage of the years with blackened hangi stones heaped up within. There were three raised-rim pits on the same little plateau, implying that these were occupation rather than kumara storage pits.
Along the coastal strips, especially on the northern and southern boundaries of what is now the ‘White Rock’ Station were the distinctive stone walls, mounds and pits associated with kumara not potato gardens —as was formerly suggested by Adkin, from his study of Palliser sites, ten miles southeast of this area. We did not excavate the mounds here or further north at ‘Flat Point’, for we had not yet received permission from those Rangitane elders most concerned but these hummocks were oddly regular, with no apparent reason for their existence, like the mounds examined by G. L. Adkin at Palliser Bay, and found to contain alternate layers of rock and paua, planted there as part of a ritual to ensure a bountiful harvest, or so Mr Adkin concluded.
One cannot be sure of the function of the various stone constructions; some are almost circular and have an opening like a doorway as if they had surrounded former hut-sites; others have mounds and apparent terraces within them, suggesting kumara gardens, the mounds being used for drying the tuber and as a means of removing excessively large stones. Although drilling revealed that much stone remained, it was the Maori practice to leave small stones and to add sand and to burn nitrogenous material like manuka to make the ideal soil for kumara. The gravel was left to retain the heat of the sun and so prolong the growing period. Most gardens revealed charcoal-darkened soils, and except at ‘Glenburn’ Station, nearly all gardens seen so far are on relatively new marine terraces with soil that has probably been minerally enriched by recent submersion (i.e., within the last ten thousand years).
The geological work done by Dr W. A. Wellman and by Les Singh, a geology honours student at Victoria University, will be of assistance in determining the age of occupation; so far hangi, middens and pits, but no gardens have been found on the two most recent marine-benches. Primary deposits of sea-borne pumice have been located, but none in conclusive relation to garden or occupation sites, so this chronological aid has not yet been utilised. Here again Dr Wellman's (and others') work in dating the different pumice eruptions and in locating and typing various depositions of sea-borne pumice may yet prove an invaluable aid to dating occupation layers. No radio-carbon dating has been attempted yet, nor will it be until we have material found in a relationship that enables us to make generalisations about the region.
The ecological surveys made by Geoff Park and others have helped establish the dominant pattern of vegetation, with two significant omissions which we are attempting to fill. The first is, the nature of vegetation in the region before the European came. From a study of the records, from the papers of Wm. Colenso, Wm. Williams, Robert Stokes, Wm. Ronaldson, Wm. Wade and others, it seems that the coast was already largely cleared. The second study is a vegetation count and analysis to establish (on inadequate sampling so far) that species of flax, karaka and ti or cabbage-tree are found in association with habitation sites.
A further survey by ‘plane with Professor D. W. McKenzie experimenting with infrared and low altitude photography should help reveal further changes in vegetation and drainage patterns consequent upon man's utilisation of the land. Test drills on garden sites by Dr J. Macnab and others have generally revealed sandy and organically enriched soils, but some walls seem to be built on a haphazard basis, or for no apparent reason, particularly one at least 250 feet long, standing in isolation, about three miles north-east of the Palliser lighthouse. Aerial photography may reveal other human associations in this area; for the development of new techniques makes it possible for the camera to reveal evidence not visible to the naked human eye.
A number of flint, obsidian and argillite flake ‘knives’ and ‘cavestones’ have been found by the group. The argillite adzes found by Mr T. Tyer of ‘Tora’ and by others, seem to bear a close affinity with the stone from D'Urville Island quarries; but these samples have yet to be checked to ascertain their source. (Mr Owen Wilkes, a skilled archaeologist, who will be joining the survey in November, has special knowledge in this field.) Similarly, obsidian samples can generally be traced to their sources. This will tell us something of the
trading activities of the original inhabitants of this region. A moa-bone needle and a paua shell necklace (made of discs perforated at the top) preserved in dry dune sand have been deposited in the Dominion Museum, but these things in themselves tell us little; if they were found in undisturbed soil in relation to strata they would be easy to correlate with other objects and patterns left by human ocupation. Similarly the moa-egg shell that we find in all dune areas or ‘windblows’, together with moa-bone (not much of this, as cattle eat it for its calcium) have great value only if found in significant relation to human occupation—for instance, in a hangi—but so far we have found only one moa bone in situ—a metatarsal, on the lower organic layer, where a stream had cut through a bank at ‘Te Awaiti’.
We have learnt more from mapping and analysing the relationship of pits, gardens, kainga and pa sites than from any portable artefacts found. Maps and field notes have been placed with the New Zealand site recording scheme, and copies sent to local archaeologists, Dr Budd, Keith Cairns and to kaumatua in the Wairarapa area.
Meanwhile, research continues on three fronts; through Maori informants and the study of published and manuscript material on Kahungunu, Rangitane and early Ngaitahu; through an extensive survey of all the occupation sites along 130 miles of coast; and possibly through a ‘dig’ in the last three weeks of January, under the direction of Owen Wilkes and with the approval of the various kaumatua. The ‘dig’ would not be on a wahi tapu but on an old kainga and garden area, where extensive middens and undisturbed strata of organic material indicate a long period of human occupation.
So far, though, we seem to have more questions than answers. This is only an interim report, published by courtesy of Te Ao Hou so that those who have special knowledge of the area might assist and those who feel dubious about any digging in an area of former Rangitane occupation may make their objections known—and have them heeded.
(Mr Mitcalfe says that he or any member of his group would be willing to meet Rangitane elders to discuss activities in this Wairarapa coastal area and, if elders insist, the group would call off its planned programme of research.—Editor.)
food is easily contaminated
HOW? Flies—one fly can carry 6½ million germs. Dirty hands —everything you touch carries germs of one variety or another. You can only be CERTAIN of clean food by washing your hands before touching or eating food, Rats, mice, cockroaches—all carry contamination. Coughing or sneezing near food spreads millions of germs.
how can you help?
Simply by being scrupulously clean in your food handling habits.
Don't handle food — use tongs.
Never use cracked or chipped crockery.
Wash your hands with soap and water after the toilet, sneezing, coughing, handling animals. Always wash your hands before preparing or eating meals.
Never leave food lying uncovered on the bench or table.
Don't lick your fingers when reading books or magazines — you're collecting other people's germs and leaving your own.
Collect or write for your FOOD CARE pamphlet from the Department of Health.
Education for Citizenship
When any young woman leaves school she faces the exciting, often bewildering experience of her first job; if she changes from country to city living she faces even more baffling problems.
She may wonder where to live, how to make her pay cover board and clothes and where to go in the evenings.
The answers are not always easy for city girls with parents to help and are more difficult for girls from the country, as 100 young Maoris found during a three-day ‘Education for Citizenship Course’ held at Auckland.
The course grew from talks between Miss M. Mako, vocational guidance officer, Mr P. Harrison, welfare officer with Maori and Island Affairs and Mr T. Royal, assistant officer for Maori Education. Department of Education, Auckland. Other people and organizations quickly supported the idea either financially or by offering their services free, and included vocational guidance officers, teachers, and members of the Maori Women's Welfare League. In all, 300 people took part.
‘We expected a marked increase in school leavers this year,’ said Mr Harrison. ‘Many will come to us for assistance. Some will come too late when they are already in trouble.’
Planning for the course started two months before. The girls were chosen from 220 applicants, to make attendance widely representative. They were all picked from forms 5 and 6 in the Auckland and South Auckland Education Department areas, Most of the girls chosen were those who had not been outside their own area or who were sure they would be coming to Auckland for jobs or further education.
Te Unga Waka Marae provided accommodation, and ten hostesses cared for the girls, travelling with them daily to the course lectures. Seven organizations and one Auckland citizen provided funds for the hire of buses, food and incidentals.
‘We couldn't do without the organizations,’ said Mr Harrison. ‘They have offered to help at future courses and others have offered too.’
Similar courses may be held next year, one for girls and one for boys.
The subjects for the course were selected by a hard-working team of ten and the organizers made certain the girls received instruction in Maori culture. An evening too, was arranged at Rev. Kingi Ihaka's youth club. The Rev. Ihaka makes a feature of Maori culture and his club draws 200–300 people in an evening.
‘We feel it is important these young people are made to realize they should be proud they are Maoris,’ said Mr Harrison. ‘We get the reaction from some. “Oh but we are only Maoris”. We feel this happens with people who don't know their identity or language.’
The girls took away a wealth of information and the organizers hoped they would pass this on to other girls at their schools.
They learned to use make-up, choose and budget for clothes, and spend their leisure hours. They listened to young Maori women who lived at Auckland, talk about their jobs, they met well-known Aucklanders including the Mayor of Auckland. Dr McElroy, and they visited offices and factories. They learned how to behave at an interview and they were urged to overcome shyness.
‘Shyness is a sign of good manners, but shyness can be a handicap,’ said Mr G. Innes, chief vocational guidance officer, Wellington.
The recruiting officer for the Navy. Lt F. Connew, pleaded too for Maoris to forget their shyness. ‘It's important to pass your personality across the desk at an interview,’ he said. ‘Never hide the good things about yourself.’
The girls heard about the unpleasant side of city living from Detective Inspector E. J. Perry, Officer in Charge of the vice squad at Auckland, and Sergeant L. Cuthbert, Officer in Charge of Youth Aid, Auckland.
Detective Inspector Perry described the growth of drug taking in New Zealand, the main types used and the appalling results. ‘The major cause of drug-taking is the companions with whom you mix,’ he said.
‘Don't listen to the pop star who says LSD “brings me nearer to God”. You are at an impressionable age. You must have better types to model yourselves on.
‘Drugs such as those used for the relief of pain by the medical profession had an important place in society,’ he said. ‘The people who misuse drugs are the people who never make it, the dropouts.’
Sergeant Cuthbert told the girls how to avoid the many unpleasant situations young women sometimes found themselves in—from unsupervised teen-age parties to “one-arm” drivers. He told them to choose their friends wisely and set their standards very high.
‘The choice of companions can get a girl into trouble,’ he said.
‘Wrong companions can lead to bad marriages.’
Sergeant Cuthbert said the police would break off a relationship for a girl if she was too frightened to do it herself.
‘Come to the police for advice,’ he said.
On the last day the girls discussed the course and made suggestions for future courses. They suggested more panel discussions, more time to see the city, more visits to places of employment and also tours of hospitals and hostels. All were firm on one point, future courses should be for girls only and not mixed.
Judging by the keen young faces, the probing questions and the buzz of chatter after every session, the course was a success and ample reward for the hard-working organizers.
‘It is essential to have this information before coming to the city,’ said one girl.
I feel each lecture is of definite benefit.’ said another.
To show their gratitude, the girls each donated one dollar towards expenses for future courses.
For most of the girls this was the first time they had met people outside their own families and friends and it was a new and exciting experience. But Mr Royal warned that life in the city would not compare with life on the course. When they came to the city they would feel homesick and lonely. This was part of the change from country to city.
However, the girls had learned some idea of how best to meet this challenge
and emerge as stronger young people with a definite purpose in life.
And now, an account of the course from the girls' angle—a talk given to her school by one of the girls after returning from Auckland.
This course, which I attended in Auckland, lasted for three most enjoyable days. We did and saw many things I'm sure would have taken six days, but the course was so well organised, it took half the time. This course was to help young Maoris adapt to city life; the problems they will have to face; what kind of job will suit them and the responsibilities involved. Most of all, the organisers tried to make us feel confident, as they have found out Maoris are very shy. We were never idle, except lounging over a cup of tea or a meal. The only thing wrong with our stay was that there was only one shower for 100 girls, so some early birds started getting up at 5 a.m. By the time we got up, the water was cold. We slept on the floor, like the Maoris do on a marae, which was a sight with blankets, clothes, bags and what not all over the place. Breakfast, which was between half-past seven and eight, was the only meal we had at the Unga Waka Marae. Each day we were given $1.00 to choose our own meals at the University in the cafeteria, which seats about 650 students downstairs and 650 upstairs.
We had two buses which took us to and from the University where we spent most of our time. If we were unable to visit firms or places, people came and gave us lectures. They told us what qualifications they required, also what types of jobs are available and how to go about getting a job. Most of them wanted Maoris because they have found them very helpful and reliable, and they also have good personalities. Some lectures were given on how to be interviewed, to express your feelings so that they know if you are the one they want, and how to act.
Finding accommodation, when working in the city, is very important because sometimes young people mix with the wrong company. We must also learn to appreciate the value of money. Finding a job is a big step in life. We must make sure we like it because it could be a lifetime job. People won't have much chance of changing their job if they don't like it, with so much unemployment.
What qualifications do they require for shorthand typists? You have to be able to type so many words per minute and also take shorthand. Jobs these days mostly require, School Certificate, or three to four years' schooling.
The most interesting visit we went on together was meeting the Mayor of Auckland, Mr McElroy. The Town Hall, which is the highest building in Auckland, is 16 stories high and three stories underground. Mr McElroy told us about his young days. He was born on a dairy farm near Kawerau and milked 50 cows by hand. There were ten in the family and he came to work in Auckland at the age of 16. He encouraged the girls to get a good job, and one day they might find themselves in a position like his. After his speech we went to the top of the building and could see almost every part of the city. What I liked best there was the operation of the computer machines. They looked easy to operate but going about it was rather complicated. It pays to be skilled because machines seem to be ruling the world these days.
The most enjoyable part of the course was the industrial visits on Wednesday—going to different firms, meeting people and trying to find a job you would like to do. I found out from the workers that they each enjoyed their own specific job.
We had plenty of leisure time. During the lunch hour we always went down to Queen Street looking around. Every lift we walked into had an operator. There we were thinking we were going to have a good time, but not with those operators! So two of my girlfriends and I started playing on the escalators in the 2.4.6 building. They could easily tell we were new.
Every night when we got back to the Marae, something was happening. Tuesday night three different Maori Cultural Groups entertained us. Wednesday night the ‘Town and Around’ team came to interview some of the girls and two Maori Cultural Groups entertained us. Thursday night was the happiest, but saddest, night. Happy be-
cause we travelled 10 miles to see Auckland's best Maori entertainers from 8 p.m. to 10 p.m. and when we got back to the Marae a band was waiting to play for a dance for us which lasted until 3 a.m. on Friday morning. Sad because this was the last night, and we made it worthwhile.
It was sad on Friday morning because no-one wanted to leave their friends and mostly our hostesses. I found the hostesses very co-operative in everything we wanted to know or do. Also the organisers made us feel very much at home.
From this course I learnt many things I hadn't known, so I hope that they have this ‘Education for Citizenship Course’ again so others may also have this great opportunity.
of diagrams on the blackboard, Cath Brown explained how to cut the flax from the bush, the aim being that each member should cut enough to last her the whole week; and it was hoped that while at Paekakariki, we would have time to each make our own working mat.
End of lecture meant time for early lunch, where we pooled our provisions for a communal meal and thus set the pattern for the week. Haere mai, tatou katoa—kia ako tahi, kia mahi tahi (Come, let us learn together, work together)—so ran the caption on the enrolment form; and with little bidding, we added … meal together.
Our bus came and we were all aboard and ready to go at the time appointed—12.15 p.m. We arrived to find Queen Elizabeth Park bathed in sunshine and consequently went into the harvest with great vigour. More than ample flax was cut; all mats were started and most completed before we returned to St. Mark's to store our supply. Then home we went, weary but fired with enthusiasm.
The enrolment form stated also: aim: to acquire the basic skills. goal: Proficiency in weaving (a) tipare (b) kono (c) kete. We slowly fumbled our way from (a) to (b), much surprised to discover that these seemingly simple articles were not easy to make. Furthermore, we were to prove only too true the tutor's reiteration that in the easy manipulation of the flax strips in kono-making lies the knack of flax weaving.
Then followed the more complicated preparation for kit making, the stripping from the broad blade of half-inch wide strips with tufts of fibre at their base. A whale of a lot of practice is required for the success of this tricky operation, my word! Saturday, the last day, found us tussling with grim determination to put our kits into reasonable shape and complete them. A few had only to join in the second handle and finish off the plaited edge at home; and so ended the last lesson.
And a hard week's weaving we had had indeed!
It says much for the worth of it all that 19 were there to the end. We sorted out the articles completed and smiled like Cheshire cats at our efforts. We left the school with a sense of personal satisfaction and achievement and sustained enthusiasm. For both tutor and organiser, there was encouragement and confidence to plan another school for 1969.
He aha te hua …? What fruit …?
The immediate and very heartening results was that two members announced they would be ‘AT HOME to FLAX WEAVING CLASS'—every Wednesday at Mrs Hutchinson's, Khandallah, and every Thursday at Mrs Agar's, Stokes Valley. ‘Bring your bundle of flax and we shall spend the afternoon revising our lessons, helping each other and getting in some much-needed practice.’
Six people turned up at Khandallah on 11 September and I have been shown one of the baskets that was completed at that session.
It seems appropriate to end by telling you that the ‘first fruit’ was a basket—kete tatahi, 36 inches in length (to fit the proportions of the Wellington Town Hall!)—that suited the requirements of the author and the producer so well that, four days after the school closed, there was our basket, filled with vegetables, on the verandah of Mr Paku's house in the opening scene of Bruce Mason's play, ‘Awatea’.
WHARE WANANGA AT WAIWHETU
School goes to the Community
Education went to the community in Wai-whetu last August, when more than 100 teachers, parents, students and administrators met for three days at Arohanui-ki-te-tangata Meeting House. Among those present were Mr H. Holst, Officer for Maori Education, Mr N. Vickridge, Principal of Te Aute College, Rev. Fr N. Delaney, Rector of Hato Paora College, Mr T. R. Hawthorn of Kaitaia, Mr T. Royal, Assistant Officer for Maori Education, Mr K. Dewes, Lecturer in Maori Studies at Victoria University, Mr W. Parker, well-known broadcaster and lecturer in the Adult Education Extension of Victoria University, Mr D. Selwyn, Headmaster at Seatoun School, Canon H. Taepa, Fr P. N. Kinsella, Rev. T. Tioke, Dr Joan Metge, Senior lecturer in Anthropology at Victoria University, Mr H. V. George, Director of the English Language Institute at Victoria University, Mr D. Ball, Director of the Maori Education Foundation, Miss K. Kaa, Mrs E. Hetet, Mrs A. Bosch and many others with a special interest in Maori education.
This seminar on Maori education was organised by the Polynesian Studies section of Wellington Teachers' College under their lecturer, Mr B. Mitcalfe, and was made possible through the generosity of Mr I. P. Puketapu and the committee of Arohanui-ki-te-tangata. In charge of the kitchen was Mrs P. Tukukino of Upper Hutt, so the whole affair was very much a community venture.
Discussion covered a wide range of topics, from the past, where the picture was grim compared with today's efforts, according to Mr Holst. Even in the 1930s, only one out of ten Maori children might expect to pass through the Fourth Form. Only one or two a year might expect to gain a degree. Now the number of Maori university degrees from Auckland University since the war exceeds the total number of degrees won by Maoris from all universities in all the vears prior to 1945. ‘In short, although the seminar is concerned about ways in which Maori education services can be bettered, the overall picture is one of continuing improvement,’ said Mr Holst.
In a later panel, Mr George, Director of the English Language Institute, asked why Maori children conformed or were expected to conform to some of the values of the dominant Pakeha society. ‘I am surprised that so many “go through the hoops” of School Certificate, University Entrance and so on.’
‘The schools must change to reflect Maori values and desires, if they are fully to serve the Maori community’, said Mr Koro Dewes. ‘Maori language and Maori studies are an essential part of culture for a large minority in New Zealand, a minority whose culture has been largely overlooked, indeed trampled under, by the dominant Pakeha culture. But it is still not too late for the schools to change to give the Maori culture some of the recognition it deserves,’ he said.
Conference adopted unanimously a remit that would make the teaching of New Zealand sociology, with emphasis on the Maori, compulsory at all teachers' colleges. It advocated the teaching of Maori in all schools where there were significant minorities of Maoris, and the improvement of the topics to be better handled by teachers. New school texts would need to be written in topics ranging from New Zealand race relations to the origin and coming of the Maori.
Mr T. R. Hawthorn, formerly principal of Kaitaia College, said that the secondary school should go to the marae. where parents and college principals could discuss, in a free and open way, the education of Maori children. Mr Hawthorn outlined she way in which unemployment had affected a disproportionate number of young Maoris. ‘Similarly, the courts step in where the schools fail. One out of every three Maori youths at age 21 can expect to have had a court appearance. This figure is a reflection on our society and our schools' failure with Maoris,’ said Mr Hawthorn.
A background paper on Maori unemploy-
One of the panels at the Maori Education seminar. From left: Messrs T. Key, B. Mitcalfe, G. Tovey and C. Whiting
‘Although Maori children may be staying at schools longer, the schools themselves must change if these children are to be adequately prepared for a place in our world,’ said Mr B. Mitcalfe.
‘Maori education is not a matter of system, but of skilled understanding and effective teachers,’ said Miss K. Kaa. ‘Where are they? Are they at this gathering?’
‘There are more than thirty thousand Maoris in Auckland.’ said Mr T. Royal. ‘Here is where the problem lies. If Auckland schools could do the job the problem would be overcome.’
‘Special services, special provisions are necessary where special problems exist,’ said Mr D. Murray.
Later, conference adopted a resolution calling for the extension of special service schools into all urban areas where rolls total more than 30 percent Polynesian, so that qualified staff and extra provisions could be made.
‘This was in accordance with a recommendation in the 1963 Commission on Education,’ said Mr G. Johnson. ‘If Maori schools have been abolished as a result of a recommendation of that Commission, then special service schools should be introduced to take their place.’
‘We have heard of failure. Now what of the successes, what do we hear of them?’ asked Mr G. Tovey, formerly Director of the Art and Crafts Branch of the Education Department. ‘There are facets of our education system in which Maoris excel, in movement, in art, in a vision of the world without the confusion of words. Our education is too verbal. It always attempts to approximate meaning with words. The meaning that Maori artists sec—that Cliff Whiting or Selwyn Muru, both here at this conference, can convey—is an art more powerful than the art of words. These are true meanings that will live when all your words are gone.’ said Mr Tovey.
Mr N. Vickridge of Te Aute College emphasised that regardless of special Maori qualities and abilities, the schools must prepare for the world, not for some ideal vision of what might be. Certain essentials remained, certain skills in language, in understanding and in work. Schools such as his own which had their pupils not for five or six hours a day, but for the full term, had a record of consistent success.
Fr Kinsella of Hato Paora said that beause boarding schools removed children from their homes, it was important that the schools make a special effort to keep contact with homes, with home attitudes, home problems and ambitions. For that reason the teachers at Hato Paora each took responsibility for visiting different districts, all over the North Island, so that parents and teachers could understand each other. He said he learnt more on these holiday
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trips than from any book. They were of use not only to the teachers but to the parents. ‘In education, teachers must learn too. This is especially true of Maori education.’
In closing the conference, both Canon H. Taepa and Mr Koro Dewes mentioned the value to conference of the forty odd Polynesian Studies students from Wellington who participated throughout, and who provided the behind-the-scenes organisation that made this seminar possible.
‘Let us hope this is the first of many such seminars,’ said Canon Taepa.
Women's Health League Conference
The 31st Annual Conference and Birthday Celebrations of the Women's Health League Inc. was held at Rotorua on 23–24 August. Delegates were welcomed onto the marae at Tunohopu Meeting House at 5 p.m. Mr B. Rewiti had called in earlier in the morning to wish us well and apologise for not being able to attend the conference, as he had been called back to Wellington. Conference was opened at 7.30 p.m. by Mr H. Lapwood M.P. We were very happy to have Mr and Mrs Lapwood with us.
Conference went with a swing, and a great deal of business was put through. The main theme of the conference was Education, with our founder and President, Nurse Cameron, stressing the need for children obtaining as much schooling as possible, and trying hard to get their School Certificate. Mr Lapwood, Mr Pat Rae and Rev. Te Hau judged the Branch Secretaries' reports and the cup was awarded to the Kokohinau Branch from Te Teko. The district reports were also judged, and won by Rotorua.
The conference closed at 10 p.m. and reopened on Saturday morning at 9 a.m. Remits put through at this time were:
That we are against the advertising of liquor on TV.
That we are against the lowering of the drinking age in hotels from 21 years to 18 years.
That children over 16 years, still attending school, should continue to receive free dental treatment.
That we would like to see more New Zealand programmes on TV, especially Maori singing and action songs and Maori legends.
When conference closed at 11.15 a.m. delegates then assembled outside the Tamatekapua Meeting House for the official welcome to the guests. We were honoured by the presence of the Maori Queen, who was given a traditional welcome onto the Marae. Among the official guests were the Mayor and Mayoress of Rotorua, Mr and Mrs Linton, Miss Sullivan, Matron of the Public Hospital, Miss Gillies of the Health Department, Miss H. Wright of Maori Affairs Department, Hamilton, and Mr and Mrs J. Fraser. After various speeches, all present sat down to a beautiful birthday dinner prepared by the Rotorua Branch who were acting as hosts.
During dinner, the Maori Queen was presented with a lovely kit by Mrs Ratepu of the Tairawhiti District Council, on behalf of the League. The birthday cake candles were lit by Mrs Ratepu, blown out by Chief Euera Manuera, and the cake was then cut by the Maori Queen, After dinner, a ‘tree of memories’ was planted by Mr Linton, assisted by Mrs Eruera.
The display of European and Maori handwork was then opened to the public. This wonderful work was done by the different branches and greatly admired by all. The judges had a hard time picking the winners for the various cups. The Maori competitions at night were held in Tamatekapua with six concert parties competing for the trophies. It was a wonderful concert enjoyed by all, after which Miss Sullivan presented the 43 cups and trophies to the winners of the various competitions.
The delegates departed for home on Sunday morning at 10 a.m., well satisfied that this 31st conference had been a great success. The next business conference will be hosted by the Puha Branch, on 8–9 March, 1969.
HIKA AKE AU I TAKU AHI
I Now Generate My Fire
tumble the pumice
in a long lament.
Tonight I lie
with the old women
and my supple rimu
scales the lean flanks
The lost canoe
deep in the sands
is not more lonely
the fairy woman
the frosty clematis
with tendrils that ensnare.
I will gather
for the failing fire,
fan the embers
into tongues of flame,
that he may see
the hearth flush
and trout speckled streams,
the fairy fetters,
as a mountain torrent
find the long lake shore.
Papa te whatitiri i runga i te rangi!
Hikuhiku te uira!
Gone are those hot days
when the battle-field
Jogged with the shouts
of the haka,
and the click and thrust
of the taiaha.
Gone are the kuia,
And the koroheke with his tokotoko
His ancestry he recites.
My ancestry …
Haere mai te toki!
only I am left
To wonder what was theirs.
I too can recite ancestry
I too can haka
I too can sit and wonder.
Sit and wonder
Loud crashes the thunder in the sky!
The lightning flashes!
YOUNGER READERS' SECTION
‘Te Ao Hou’ is pleased to publish original work in art and language. Art work would need to be in black and white. Poems, stories and short articles will all be acceptable.
First, another selection of poems written by pupils of Nuhaka Primary School.
Ran through lupins
Lay in the grass
Watching the Indians
All troop past
Jumping on horses
Racing down hills
Indians can't catch us
Falling off horses
Limping to bed
Just a few bruises
Least, we are not dead.
Dust flying up
Baaing for their mothers
Stamping and snorting goes on
Gasping for breath
Gates shutting and opening
Barking dogs, with snarling teeth
Green fresh grass
Standing and resting.
The fun has gone.
Spread over green hills
Turning white every day
Leaves fall from trees
Like yellow rain.
The lazy day
With specks of cloud
In the blue blue sky.
The lazy mist
As it settles to dusk
Around the trees
On the hills above.
Willows bend and weep over the dead.
Clouds go black as they look below them
Tattooed lips begin to speak
Shouts of Haere-mai as the grizzling gets louder
Pressing of noses around the coffin
Surrounded by faded photos and beautiful wreaths.
Music Talks (listening to Liszt's ‘Masappa’)
Torn and warped.
Then born again.
Giving life to what is dead
Slapping, cutting and designing
Filled with joyment
Filled with joyment.
The coffin is open
Her picture is there
Women in black
Sitting and thinking
Children playing undisturbed.
Lots of people
With happy sadness
In eyes and voices.
Then the burial —
Flowers, concrete, and yellow mud.
Carvings laughing at me
My face turns red
The tuku tuku pattern on the wall
Staring at me
Paua shell eyes gazing at me
Growing, mocking me
My heart beating
Ko - ko - taku - taku
Growing bigger and bolder
Facts flowing and more to come
Don't want to stop.
Now a second selection from the essays sent in by Te Aute College students.
Two short contributions from the first two boys.
Hunting was, and in many countries, still is the means of survival. It is the most important factor in the carnivorous animal kingdom. Since life began there has been prey and predator, from the tiny insects to the huge lumbering dinosaurs.
For man hunting is the foundation of living. In order to live he must hunt the tiny herring or harpoon the monstrous whales. It is a natural instinct stemming from primaeval days. Even today in modern civilization he must hunt for sport to satisfy his pleasures if not needs.
The proverbial saying ‘Kill or be killed’ phrases the need to survive. But killing is only one phase in the art of hunting. The predator uses all his senses in his quest for food, by hearing, smelling; but the prey uses the same senses to survive the threat of the hunter.
The Art of Carving
Since time and man began, the need to express oneself has taken many forms. Perhaps the foremost of these is the art of carving which is prominent in early civilization as a symbol of grief, joy, warning, hope and even death.
Carving takes many long tedious hours to perfect and the ability to transform a piece of driftwood into a finely carved miniature comes through expert tuition and practice. The materials range from crude stone implements to the finest steel chisels, all chipping and gouging the ivory or plentiful woods selected for their beautiful colours, textures and hardness.
Throughout the world carving has been and in many cases still is, the symbol of life. Take, for instance, primitive tribes of Africa who fear carved idols and pay homage and sacrifice, often human, from birth to death.
Takuta Emery, Lower VI, Pahiatua
The Sunday service was over and he stood at the doorway of the church. He chatted briefly to his parishioners as they came out one by one. His soft white hands were clasped together in a gentle manner, and he had a kind benevolent face on which developed a gentle picturesque smile. You could see that he was getting a little bald but had sufficient hair to cover the hairless patch. It was shiny black hair, well groomed, but with a few tints of white hair here and there. A slight breeze made his cassock and surplice crinkle and wave about his rather plump body. He was a man of average height who wore a pair of blackrimmed trifocal spectacles. His ecclesiastical attire seemed to suit him and to make look more than ever ‘the gentleman’.
Such an innocent little creature he is; freshly delivered to them by God; a perfect specimen of His work of art. As innocent as the Holy Infant himself, he lies there in the cradle gurgling to himself, his wide brown eyes staring up at the ceiling. He looks so innocent now, but what will he be like when he grows up. He may be a thief, or he may grow up to be a gentleman, maybe prime minister even, who knows.
The baby looks so cuddly and chubby you feel like kissing him forever and pinching his very soft white cheeks. He is so short, round and fat, somewhat like a lump of sponge rubber, his tiny body embedded in the soft blue rugs.
At the moment he is happy. He sucks his fat fingers and kicks his fat legs up in the air in delight. Soon his mother comes and rocks him to sleep. A few minutes later he is purring like a little kitten. What a lovely angel he looks.
Frank Heperi, Form V, Waihi
Te Aute College
Te Aute College, as its name reveals, is a school, but it is a school of a special sort, in that it is a boarding school controlled by the church. It's an institution erected for the process of increasing the knowledge of Maori youths and introducing to them this new and great tool of the Pakeha called ‘Education’.
The history of Te Aute College began in 1852 when Sir George Grey granted 4,000 acres of land. The local Maoris also donated a similar area, the plan being that the land was to be farmed, and out of the proceeds a school was to be built. Samuel Williams was the first man to lease the land and within a short time, in 1852, a school was built. The first school roll was a total of twelve primary pupils. After five years the school closed down because of lack of funds. However, this was not the end. It was reopened in 1872. Once again, those who were eager to learn emerged.
In 1906 a Royal Commission was set up to investigate the management of the estate; to divide the estate into 23 blocks to be leased by tender for 21 years. However, in 1918 a disastrous thing occurred, not to the land but the school — the building was engulfed by fire and was reduced to ashes. Nothing could be done about it, except to re-build the whole thing. But nature was not satisfied with the construction and decided to shake it down. This was in 1931 when part of the buildings fell in crumbled bricks and twisted iron. It seemed the real end had come. No. Despite the great destruction and with great expense, the college was rebuilt.
Because of its long existence, it has contributed a lot to the Maori people in providing such eminent leaders as Ngata, Peter Buck, Pomare and many others. Te Aute has also provided leaders in other fields such as sports, mainly in rugby. Many people associate Te Aute with its rugby record as well as its academic record.
Today it is still continuing to produce leaders for the Maori people, leaders of whom we can be very proud. People like Bill Ngata and Sir Turi Carroll, and the many old boys of Te Aute associated with such professions as law and medicine, and others occupying positions of importance.
As we look to the future we look with uncertainty to the continuation of Te Aute's existence. Because of the problems of finance, its numbers may slowly decrease until the college may have to close its doors. Although we hope this doesn't happen, we must be realistic. The future of Te Aute College is very vague. Perhaps as in the past it may survive another phase of destruction.
Sydney Melbourne, Upper VI, Ruatoki
My Interests: Drums and Percussion
In the early days, in the heart of Africa, chiefs of different tribes and their people would be summoned to a tribal gathering with drums. To the average European venturing into that almost unconquerable region, the throbs of the host-village's drum may have caused a deep feeling of fear and indecision to enter their hearts. During the day the sound of drums may have been made inaudible owing to the sounds and noises of the surrounding jungle, but
the well-trained message-receiver had his ears alert to every change in the steady rhythm. In the early stages of civilization and the latter stages of primitive life, drums played a large part in communication.
To youngsters, no Cowboy and Indian movie would be complete without the distant rumble of tribal drums and the puffs of smoke usually drifting up behind a butte in the landscape. But apart from the publicity which is gained from the Indian films many peoples have at some time or another used drums in pagan or traditional ceremony. Therefore the drum became, in the realms of primitive lands, symbols of both communication and ceremony.
The main use of drums nowadays is to provide beat. In the big orchestras, which have long faded into the past, the drums and the cymbals could be seen beating out the time, although their position in the percussion section of the orchestra was not prominent. Xylophones were used in some of these orchestras and with the glockenspiels and chimes lent to the harmony of the orchestral instruments.
In more modern periods with the introduction of jazz, drums have been combined into sets. In the days of Gene Krupa, the fashion was to have two sets of drums. The reason was that the drums were tuned to different keys and the range of sounds was extended. In some cases two men played drum duets as part of the act. A latter semi jazz and modern group, ‘Herb Alpert and his Tijuana Brass’ used a single set and a xylophone. These formed the background for many of the hit tunes he and his men put out.
From primitive natives of uncivilized lands to millionaires like ‘the Beatles’. Their personal character and voices may have been a large part of their success, but how could they sing without backing and how could they keep the steady tempo without Ringo's never failing fingers and his set of drums? In the early stages of their top development Ringo was the most popular of the group. Apart from his crazy escapades and his rings, which gave him more publicity, he also started a new beat.
Now when young couples enter the usually crowded dance-halls and hear the band playing, and the fellow in the background behind the jumble of drums, they do not pause to think that years ago, the beat they hear may have graced a native ceremony or sent a message of importance to outlying tribes in Africa. No, they jerk and twist in accordance with the beat and tempo of both the guitarists and drummer.
Charlie Taipana, Lower VI, Feilding
And finally, eight poems from Northland College pupils.
boom, bang, smash
as fast flicking lightning
cuts a cloud in half.
the ground is shaking ….
Rumbling through the air.
Then silence comes.
The day grows old.
Stands alone on a sky-scraper hill
Swaying to and fro
like a ballet dancer ….
Burning through my skin,
Burning through every crack it can find,
Everything's dying, dying,
This awful weather.
It soaks through the ground,
It soaks through my skin,
This heat is fiercely hot,
Like a desert,
Bare and dry.
Trees waving in sudden winds,
making sounds like a million tambourines,
shaking, shaking, shaking ….
Slowly, leaves falter to the ground.
The air becomes silent—
Until another wind bothers to come.
and trees buckle.
The low howl of a dog
wakes me in my sleep.
It looks at the moon
as if it's whimpering
for its mate
who is far, far away.
drifting across the sky,
out into the wilderness ….
Brownie Te Awa
THE ART OF TANIKO WEAVING
The first thing to be said about this book is to welcome it on two counts. First, as Dr Mead himself points out, it is a revised and considerably enlarged version of his Taniko Weaving: How to Make Maori Belts and Other Useful Articles. Those who are interested in learning taniko weaving will thus find this book a real asset. Instructions
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are provided in an appendix together with beautifully drawn diagrams of each stage in the weaving process. The interest and value of the book, however, lie beyond these, its immediate practicalities. In fact this aspect is secondary to its main concern, which is to show taniko as an art form in relation to its social and historical background. This is the second reason for welcoming the book. Taniko has been the subject of several studies, but it has never before been examined in relation to its social and cultural context.
The introductory chapter describes Maori costume in general. This is followed by a description of the traditional taniko technique, the materials used, and their detailed preparation. An analysis of the technique itself is shown as a local development from the ‘single pair twine’ common to other areas of Polynesia. The next chapter is devoted to the historical development of the art and discusses the changing character of taniko through three time periods—the Classical, Transitional and Modern. Here Dr Mead demonstrates a clearly identifiable sequence of change, which incidentally is concomitant with changes in the social organisation of the people. New motifs and particularly, new materials are combined with the traditional, becoming only minor additions at first, but eventually displacing the traditional materials and techniques altogether. Traditional patterns or arrangements of the same appear to be the only elements to resist change. This is evident in the fact that today, modern patterns which may incorporate new motifs, are still based upon the classical inventory of motifs.
The following chapter is a provocative discussion of style and is further highlighted by the presentation for the first time of the little known pre-classical style of taniko. Contrary to assumptions which have been made concerning its simplicity, it is here
shown to be a highly complex and sophisticated art form. As such it deserves the attention of all who are interested in art and material culture. The next chapter classifies all known patterns on the basis of dominant motifs and is an extension of Buck's earlier classification, which used internal cultural information as the basic criteria. The result is a much more meaningful interpretation of taniko motifs.
Throughout, the book is well illustrated with photographs and diagrams that are essential to a study of this kind. A very large tribute must be paid to the excellence of both, in terms of clarity and attention to detail.
Finally the result of this book is a picture of taniko, not only as a vital and dynamic art form, but as a medium for expressing symbolically the ideas and beliefs of the people. Dr Mead is to be congratulated for his lucid and scholarly discussion, and for his contribution to that school of thought which maintains that, irrespective of the sundry specifics of its relations, art is always an integral part of culture—never a thing apart.
THE SHADOW OF THE LAND—a study
of British policy and racial conflict in
New Zealand, 1832–1852
The author first set out to write a history of the army in New Zealand, but because the initiation of military enterprise in this country cannot be divorced from its early history, the book was greatly broadened in concept. The result has been a vivid record of the political and social times surrounding the signing of the Treaty of Waitangi. Underlying the whole is Maori mistrust of European intentions, influenced and intensified by their own overriding desires to acquire European materials and advantages, for which the only acceptable exchange was their land.
As the sub-heading of the book indicates, it is ‘a study of British policy and racial conflict in New Zealand, 1832–1852’. Policy and conflict activated each other. Conflict areas are located in North Auckland, Wellington, Wanganui and briefly, though significantly, in Nelson. It is associated almost wholly with the land.
First chapters cover the early negotiations and developments in the acquisition of the new colony and by page 40, we are brought into Treaty of Waitangi times and the dark clouds of impending conflict in the North. The author gives new significance to this treaty, conceived in the interests of imperial policy, yet so phrased as to present a charter of ideal co-existence between two peoples at widely separated points in the time-scale of civilization. The chameleon nature of the words is not readily apparent, certainly Maori unsophistication was no match for it at the time, and the author goes to some length to clarify a situation which he claims has been falsely represented to five generations of Maori people.
Disillusionment came quickly to some. Nopera Panakareao, a christianised Kaitaia chief of great influence, said at the signing of the Treaty, ‘The shadow of the land goes to Queen Victoria, but the substance remains to us’. Less than a year later he was to say, ‘The substance of the land goes to the Europeans, the shadow only will be our portion’. By the time that Governor Grey had arrived, so much blurring of Treaty ink had occurred that he found nothing incompatible with it in his instructions ‘to foster the education of the Maori and to consider his feelings and prejudices, but only when these were not inconsistent with the peace and welfare of colonists of European descent … to require implicit subjection to the law, and if necessary to enforce that submission by the use of all powers, civil and military at his command’. Grey was not slow to take advantage of the extreme in his instructions, and in spite of the warnings of officials and missionaries, that the continued violation of Maori rights might result in a united Maori front instead of the isolated resistance of a few chiefs, he virtually gave the colonists a free hand in the acquisition of Maori land. Less than five years after the signing of the Treaty, the Maori had become a second-class citizen in his own land and there was rebellion from Wairau to Kororareka, through the Wellington district and in Wanganui. Taranaki, Waikato and Tauranga were in a state of unrest. As a promise of peaceful co-
existence the Treaty had been an illusion.
The illusionary character of the Treaty was perpetuated by Government policy. New thoughts on the government of subject peoples by ‘moral suasion’ rather than by military supremacy were current at the time. It promulgated an idealistic code of humane dealing with uncivilized subject peoples. It had its essence in consent to sovereignty without military coercion, and the welfare and advancement of the subject race foremost. The fact of the Treaty and the absence of troops at the time certainly gave some substance to ‘moral suasion’, but the author claims that as a genuine policy, it was a myth. At best it was an inference drawn from Hobson's and Fitzroy's attempts to come to terms with the situation that badly needed military support, and we ought not to suppose that idealistic principles were dictating a reluctance to use force. Evidence goes to show that actually they were searching for troops, which for various reasons were not immediately available. This does not imply that Hobson and Fitzroy did not have real personal convictions about the value of ‘moral suasion’. The characters of both these men suggest that they did, but farsightedness in weighing up the practicability of ‘moral suasion’ against doubtful advantage did the colonising image no harm. Whatever the practicability of ‘moral suasion’, and it is possible that it would have been successful in the New Zealand context, few people apart from the unsophisticated Maori of the time would have been naive enough to suppose that the European settler and the Government were going to willingly submit to a policy that would eventually do more for the subject race than for themselves. Grey was to explode the ‘moral suasion’ illusion completely when the long awaited troops did arrive. He made it clear enough then that there never was any intention to consider the Maori a British subject on the same level as the European settler.
Conflict in the North centred in the struggles of Hone Heke, aided by Kawiti and Pomare, against a government now in command of military detachments and supported by Tamati Waka Nene. It is interesting to recall how school history texts so dictated our conception of the events at this time that Hone Heke was depicted as
LET'S LEARN MAORI PROFESSOR B. BIGGS A new self-help tutor designed to aid study of the Maori language. The material in this book was originally used in WEA lectures but has now been expanded to make the most scholarly and practical guide yet published.
Two accompanying 12 in. LP records contain readings from the book by Doctor Pat Hohepa. Kiwi LD 17, 18. The Set $9.00
TRADITIONAL MAORI CLOTHING DR. S. M. MEAD This important book contains a description of the full range of clothing and decoration studied against the background of Maori history. Written by a distinguished Maori scholar, it is a comprehensive, fully illustrated survey that will be a standard reference book for years to come. $6.95
CAPTAIN COOK IN NEW ZEALAND A. H. & A. W. REED (Editors) The full text of Captain Cook's own account of his three visits to New Zealand. Taken from his Journals it describes the great explorer's first landfall, his meetings with the Maori people and the following travels and adventures. Many notes, essays, illustrations, maps and a folding chart. $4.95
A companion volume, Captain Cook In Australia, A. W. Reed (Ed) is available at $3.95
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either a treacherous, bloodthirsty rebel, second only to that other arch-rebel Hongi Hika in villainy, or as a nuisance and a trouble-maker with a wanton compulsion to cut down flagstaff's and burn out towns. We may well decide after re-reading evidence, that Heke emerges as a tragic figure of certain heroic proportions. He had a burning conviction that British sovereignty was synonymous with European alienation of Maori land. It was no easy road that he chose, to maintain militant defiance in the face of threatened punitive confiscation of his lands, to suffer the systematic destruction of his undefended pas, to fight at the same time a frontal attack against one enemy and a rearguard action against his own tribal kinsman. Accounts of the engagements at Ohaeawai and at Ruapekapeka stir the imagination about the generalship of this man.
Our history books were hazy too about details of the sacking of Kororareka. They neglected to tell us that British warships bombarded the deserted town of Kororareka while Maori troops watched impassively from the surrounding hills, that these vital shots did appreciable damage and actually precipitated the sacking of the town, that Heke carefully excluded the missionaries and the settlers' families from attack, that he gave orders for the preservation of the church, and that he sent Signalman Tapper's wife and child down to safety when the blockhouse was taken. The petulance, instability and treachery attributed to Heke by the government might as easily have been applied to Waka Nene by Heke. Kawiti claimed that Waka Nene's loyalty to the government sprang from private differences with Heke and that he constantly exploited the situation to wipe out old scores and grudges.
Hostilities in the North subsided into an uneasy peace after the battle at Ruapekapeka and the military detachments could now be utilized in the already explosive situation in Wellington. Whereas British sovereignty vested in the government had been the opposition in the Northern disputes, conflict in Wellington was almost entirely between Wakefield's Land Company settlers and the Maori occupants of the area. British troops were used to protect Company interests and support their claims. Fitzroy's irksome halter of the Company's unrestricted acquisition of Maori land had been removed with the arrival of a new governor, and new horizons of hope had opened up for the settlers.
The involved situation of Maori land tenure in the Wellington district resulted largely from Te Rauparaha's movements in the area. The reader should be familiar with the ancestral lands of the tribes involved in the hostilities before trying to follow the land negotiations. The interplay of reference to Ngati Toa, Ngatiawa, Ngati Raukawa etc., may be confusing. There was no unity of action among the tribes, a factor that lessened chances of success and hastened European occupation.
Te Rangihaeata was the Hone Heke of the south. Te Rauparaha, more or less quiescent at this period, plays a relatively small part. Devious man that he was, Grey was always suspicious of the guile in anyone else, and it was the astute move of a very astute man when he made the ageing warrior his prisoner. But whether or not it was a wise move depends upon whether the following wave of mistrust that permeated Maori attitudes to any European move can be sheeted home to this particular incident.
The most distasteful aftermath of the Wellington conflict was the courts martial of captured Maori prisoners and their punishment by hanging and transportation. That did its part in intensifying Maori opposition and bitterness in Wanganui.
Tribal fragmentation in Wanganui was complex, and troubles arose when areas of Maori and European occupation were neither understood nor clearlv defined by either side. Many of the chiefs had taken part in the Wellington disputes and bitterness over the courts martial still rankled. The Christian mission was firmly established among the river tribes and in the midst of hostile preparations on both sides, a Christmas Day service for 2,000 Maoris brought 382 to receive the sacrament. The sporadic guerilla nature of Maori warfare was frustrating to the stockaded British troops. An even greater annoyance was the Maori resourcefulness in ‘living off the land’. Their strategy was to send two or three men out to show themselves and goad the soldiers into firing at them. The decoys then sprang on the unexploded shells, gathered them up and made for
cover. The help to their own meagre stock of ammunition must have been considerable, for the Rev. Taylor records that one such sortie netted them 63 musket balls and 4 lbs of powder.
Throughout the book, the author describes missionary influence as a great civilizing force. The missionaries were forthright in their condemnation of unscrupulous land deals. They fought a constant battle to enforce the letter of the Treaty. They moderated in inter-tribal disputes and influenced to no small degree the breaking down of lingering pockets of resistance. But there were those among them who were not above testing Maori action against their own interests in the name of Chrisitian duty. Grey's exhortation to Maori claimants to give up the Hutt land to European settlers found gratifying support when the Rev. Taylor obtusely took for his text a chapter from Timothy, which reminded Christians of their duty to yield to governors.
It was unfortunate that the Maori was to get such early initiation into European double standards. He had not yet become familiar with nominal Christianity. On the same Christmas Day when a service brought 382 Maoris from a population of 2,000 to receive communion, a similar service in the township for 400 troops and settlers attracted 20. It could not have escaped Maori notice that Europeans appeared to take to heart the maxim ‘the better the day, the better the deed’. Dates in the author's documentation reveal that from the North to the Hutt Valley, Sunday was the auspicious day for launching a military offensive. It was also the preferred day for stockade building in Wanganui. Maori Christians must have found this difficult to reconcile with keeping holy the sabbath. Two incidents of plundering and destruction which occurred during the period under review are interesting for their treatment of Christian property. One, the sacking of Kororareka by Hone Heke is known to every schoolboy as a fact of New Zealand history. The other may have escaped publication altogether except in this book. A detachment of British soldiers attacked the unoccupied Ngati Rangatahi pa in the Hutt Valley, and after plundering the homes, set fire to the pa. There was a significant difference in the two operations. At Kororareka the only building left standing and unviolated was the church; in the Hutt Valley, the Maori chapel was desecrated and destroyed in the general conflagration.
There is so much in this book that draws new significance from a re-appraisal of evidence that the reader finds himself with exciting, new concepts of early New Zealand history. It is a provocative book. Events and personalities that have hitherto intrigued the student of early New Zealand history because they lacked a comprehensible Maori association with reality are shuffled more satisfactorily into perspective. Fitzroy, Busby, Hobson, Te Rauparaha, Hone Heke, Te Rangihaeata, Te Wherowhero, Waka Nene, Te Heuheu, Te Mamaku, Wakefield, Grey, the missionaries, the military commanders, the land arbitrators, all come into the sweep of the author's microscope and gain or lose brilliance in doing so. It dwells longest and most searchingly on Governor Grey, that complex and gifted man, egotist, able governor, superb politician, arch dissimulator, self-professed friend of the Maori, yet to quote from the book, who ‘lied on so many occasions concerning his land purchases that no completely satisfactory account of these yet exists’.
It is a considerable volume of almost 400 pages, well documented by clearly numbered foot-notes and possessing an excellent index arrangement at the end. Illustrations and maps are thoughtfully chosen or prepared and add considerably to the interest of the book. It is a scholarly presentation and aptness and clarity of expression contribute greatly to its readability. It would be exciting to read this author's assessment of the decade preceding the period under review and the years that followed when the wave of disillusionment swept the conflict to new heights in Taranaki and the Waikato.
This is a valuable and rewarding book for the young Maori to read. Cause and effect of the conflicts have cast long shadows. It is not difficult to date the time, almost 100 years after the signing of the Treaty of Waitangi, when the Maori was beginning to emerge from his second class citizenship to political parity with his European neighbour. Nor has Nopera's shadow of the land gained in substance or lost any of its sombreness with the passing of more than a century.
NO ORDINARY SUN
Hone Tuwhare's first volume of poems became justly celebrated within weeks of its first printing; it was received with joy and awe throughout the country and abroad. Some of the poems suggested incantation and memories in their rise and fall, of ancient waiata and karakia; they called for the voice of the poet himself, a return to the oral traditions of bardic delivery, such as is happening all round the world. The desire for more intimate contact with the poet than print makes possible is now world-wide; the poet is in the cafe, on the streets, on television and on records.
This note will talk therefore primarily of the poems spoken. Placed close to the microphone, as Mr Tuwhare is for most of his album, he reveals a voice of husky richness, the admirable and—one feels listening—perfect instrument for his images. Many poets reading, can disconcert; Eliot has never seemed to me his ideal interpreter, nor, nearer home, Allen Curnow or Louis Johnson. But set slightly farther off, for more declamatory pieces, Mr Tuwhare loses some richness and flexibility, and in the last poem Monologue, he attempts Scottish intonations for which he is not equipped. I note from the sleeve that ‘some of the poems were recorded at a reading given at the Birkenhead Public Library, during the North Shore Festival of the Arts’, which explains the cough at the end of one poem, and the somewhat easily elicited laughter during Monologue. I think audiences are a mistake; they may help the poet to achieve a performance, less easily secured in a studio, but they fragment the attention of the listener and can sometimes irritate. The listener is the ultimate participator, and he needs no colleagues. But the record is a fine achievement in the best of these beautiful incantatory poems, and their music is as sad as any ever made in this country. With what tender regret this fine poet notes the scarring of land, heart and mind that we have brought to his people! What insolent insects he makes of us, and how justly! This album also includes a waiata, of which I can judge little more, to my shame, than that his Maori is as majestic as his English; odd phrases leapt out of a musical fog at me like shafts of light. This disc is a noble performance, of a poet in action.
THE RETURN and ELEGY
To review The Return, I can think of no better way than to list the elements of what Douglas Lilburn calls a ‘sound image’. Distant traffic hum; faint wind; sea; wind; gulls; steam; hiss; tiny horns; hiccoughs; Mahi; muffled sob; Tane; kahikatea; kohekohe; tuatara, etc. A beautiful Maori voice (Mahi Potiki) softly intones a catalogue of Maori tree names and, at one point, an exquisite child's voice came through with ‘matai’ and ‘taraire’, reminding one of the beauty of the language we have so arrogantly supplanted and daily throttle. Let those who argue for anglicised Maori listen to this and reflect on the outrage we do every day to the most musical tongue in the world apart from Italian. Mr Lilburn establishes behind The Return, the last poem in Alistair Campbell's famous first volume, Mine Eyes Dazzle, a web of throbbing, delicate sound, never more than mezzoforte; the last images of a dying chief? The first of a Maori child, rocking in a flax cradle near a dull-glowing fire? Tim Eliott's fine voice was used for these same grave qualities; it stroked the images rather than propelled them; ‘gulls flung from the sea’, ‘the surf-loud beach’, ‘fires kindled in the wet sand’, ‘heads shrunken to a skull’. In the last lines of the poem, the sound image becomes explicit in ‘gods of the middle world/Their antique, bird-like chatter …’. The whole piece maintains the gravity of these lines, evoking a world of misty, mysterious shimmer.
The reverse side of the disc is occupied by Mr Lilburn's beautiful setting of Alistair Campbell's Elegy. I must here confess that it took me some time to accept the Elegy, in Lilburn's setting. I have always enormously admired the Sings Harry sequence,
for its artfully casual and laconic lilt; it seemed to me at first that Lilburn had played over the starkness of Campbell's imagery, unwarrantably extending its bounds to areas not implicit in the poem. I had the same objections to it that I still have to Stravinsky's setting of Dylan Thomas's Villanelle (‘Do not go gentle into that good night’). Careful listening to the record (Gerald Christeller, baritone, Margaret Nielsen, piano) convinces me that I was wrong; voice and piano beautifully accommodate the poem's icy utterance and fierce glares and the references to Lorca and duende on the sleeve are exact: the austerity of feeling is close to Spain, recalling this from, I think, Sacheverell Sitwell:
‘Abrupt as when there's slid
Its stiff gold blazing pall
From some black coffin lid.’
The performance by the artists is admirable; Miss Nielsen's playing is ringingly clear, and M [ unclear: ] Christeller's beautiful diction and grave reverence for the poems and music make it a memorable performance. Kiwi Records has added to its already distinguished reputation in pioneering New Zealand works by these two admirable releases.
reviewed by Alan Armstrong
This record features the Ohau Maori Youth Club of Rotorua. Although founded only in 1962 this club has gained quite an impressive reputation, having successes in prestige competitions at Tauranga, Ngaruawahia and Hamilton. At the invitation of the Toowoomba Rotary Club of Australia they performed some time ago in both Queensland and New South Wales. At the time of making the record they were holders of the Orakau Centennial Commemoration Cup.
Perhaps anticipating criticism of the record, the cover notes say, somewhat defensively, that ‘the true strength of any performing group can best be measured by its success in open competitions’. This is somewhat debatable, since some clubs make a specialty of competitions and others avoid them entirely, but the Ohau Club (and any others which record) will be heard and judged by a far wider audience through the strengths and weaknesses revealed on a recording than would be possible from any competition. Certainly a record critic can only go on what he hears on the disc and this record will unfortunately do little to enhance the club's doubtless well-deserved reputation. Overall, the record is very disappointing. There is a noticeable lack of light and shade and very little finesse or polish in any of the items.
Some criticism of specific items, which it is hoped are constructive, are as follows. ‘Toia Mai’ on Side 1 degenerates into a competition between the women doing an action song and the men doing a haka. This combination of different dance forms just may be acceptable on the stage but in a record it sounds a mess. The club should have made up its mind as to whether it wanted an action song or a haka and then performed one or the other. ‘Haruru Ana’ on Side 2 is a ragged and, at times, unmelodious duet to a hummed accompaniment by the whole group. The female singer keeps up her end of the duet but the male singer seems unsure of his words and falters badly in one or two places, to the point of tailing off altogether. There are also two haka on Side 2. It would be too harsh to say they were dispirited but the tempo is pedestrian and there is no bite when the performers come in after a call by the kaea. In ‘Whakarongo Mai’ (called on the record cover ‘Ringa Iwhiua’!) the performers seem uncertain of the words and trail away into rumblings at the end of several lines.
The attack in ‘Karu’ is often ragged. To guarantee crisp presentation on a recording, chants and choral pieces should be conducted. It is not of much consequence perhaps in a stage performance if someone is late starting a line, but with a recording there is no visual distraction and the ear hears more. Furthermore the microphone picks up errors which could never be detected otherwise. A record is played over and over and an error, once enshrined on a disc, keeps coming back to haunt every time it is replayed.
The record cover is most attractive but alas, the story on the other side is somewhat different. There are some ludicrous mis-spellings of the items, such as ‘Naruru
CROSSWORD No. 62
|13.||A woman's brother-in-law (6)|
|18.||Raising ceremony (8)|
|19.||Over the other side of (3)|
|21.||Arrive (3, 3)|
|22.||Belonging to; from (2)|
|24.||Love charm, spell; bewitch (5)|
|28.||Ascend, mount (3)|
|30.||Bow part of a bird snare (3)|
|32.||Remnant, leftover (6)|
|36.||A song; a tree (5)|
|38.||Fortified village (2)|
|39.||Be entangled; agile, adept (4)|
|42.||Long after; approve; on the spur of the moment (4)|
|45.||I don't know (3)|
|46.||Open, gaping (6)|
|50.||First born female of a family of note (5, 7)|
|52.||Rage, bluster (4)|
|53.||= kaitoa, serves you right (3)|
|54.||I, me (2)|
|55.||Bow of a canoe (7)|
|1.||Sister of a man (5)|
|3.||Father, parent (5)|
|4.||He saw fairies (6)|
|5.||Burn, light (2)|
|6.||Elevated, hung (4)|
|7.||Swinging vine (3, 5)|
|9.||Milky Way; North Island (3, 1, 4)|
|10.||At, in, with (fut.) (3)|
|14.||When (fut.) (4)|
|15.||By, belonging to (2)|
|17.||First born male of a family of note (5, 7)|
|23.||Prick, stab (3)|
|25.||Near, close (4)|
|26.||Welcome! (5, 3)|
|29.||Louse, kutu (2)|
|33.||Shout; muttonbird; soft mud; shudder, disturb (2)|
|34.||Isn't it so (4)|
|37.||Fill; say (2)|
|40.||Break off; pluck off; destroy; throw away (4)|
|41.||Large, superior quality; printer (5)|
|43.||Place in a heap (5)|
|44.||Face in a certain direction; go (3)|
|46.||To fish (2)|
|47.||How great (4)|
|48.||Front wall of a house (4)|
|51.||Swim; stalk; cow (3)|
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