Te Rangihiroa's Rich Life,
Rich Distinctions, Rich Legacy

by G. S. ROYDHOUSE

Aotearoa had no better known ambassador-at-large, the Maori people no greater champion than one of their own sons, the distinguished, wise, human, learned but modest, Te Rangihiroa. As Sir Peter Buck, K.C.M.G., D.S.O., M.A., Litt.D., D.Sc., M.D., Ch.B., doctor, politician and soldier, he was the last of New Zealand's Maori knights.

His accomplishments in ethnology and anthropology—particularly when he was Director of Bernice P. Bishop Museum, Honolulu—spread far beyond the Pacific seas over which the ancestors of his people steered their sturdy canoes centuries and centuries ago in search of land and a home.

He died in office at Honolulu on December 3, 1951, in his seventy-second year. Countless people knew him simply as ‘Peter’. The well-deserved honours bestowed on him made him none the less approachable nor warped the strains of modesty and friendliness uppermost in his many-sided character. His greatest asset, of which he was most proud, was the Maori blood he inherited from his mother. This was complemented by the Irish strain of his father.

In point of fact his father's name was William Henry Neal, better known in the Taranaki, Whanganui and Wairarapa districts as ‘Buck’ Neal, and his wife as Mrs ‘Buck’. It was from this nickname that Peter gained his European surname, and from his mother's only brother he took, when he had reached his ‘teens, the name Te Rangihiroa, or more correctly, Te Rangi Ihiroa. It was through the death of this same uncle that he received his very first name of Materori— ‘death on the road’. The uncle became ill while travelling to his home and collapsed and died on the roadside.

‘It must always be borne in mind that I had the good fortune to have a Maori mother,’ he said speaking in Ngati Poneke Hall, Wellington, during his last visit to New Zealand and his people. His mother, a Ngati Mutunga chieftainess, Ngarongokitua (‘Tidings that Reach Afar’), taught him to read and write in the Maori tongue. She died when he was but a youth and his grandmother, Kapuakore (‘Cloudless’) cared for

Photo: S. P. Andrew
Sir Peter Buck (1949)

him until his early teens. She lived to be 102 years old and she was, he recalled, ‘more tattooed than any woman I have ever seen or heard of among my people.’

Discussing his mixed blood Peter has said, ‘I would not change for a total of either.’ And again, ‘To my despondent fellow halfcaste I can truly say that any success I might have achieved has been largely due to may good fortune in being a mongrel.’ It would take a man with terrific pride in his ancestry and race to say that.

Peter was never more sincere than in these utterances, and in them can be found the key which so often turned his thoughts toward the future of the Maori race. He expressed his feelings plainly more than once during his visit to New Zealand, thus: ‘It is impossible for us to maintain our isolation as a pure Maori people. The process of mixing has been going on for generations and it will continue. We cannot make any law about it, and it is not desirable to make a law about it.

‘We must have freedom. They talk of freedom of thought, the freedom of worship. In this country there is the freedom to mate with those you live. And under these conditions this process of mixing … is a law which has come about out of a human law and I think it is one which will bring about a greater unity and fellow feeling and cooperation between the two races in this country.’

Peter saw in the fusion of Maori and European blood the rising of future generations in which there would be no difference between Maori and Pakeha. ‘We are all New Zealanders,’ he said, ‘and should go forward together … I see in the future the development of a fine race of New Zealanders composed of Pakeha and Maori.’

Progress in the North

by. I. L. G. SUTHERLAND

Progress in the North
by I.L.G. SUTHERLAND

The article by Prof. I. L. G. Sutherland facing this page was specially written by him for Te Ao Hou. It was prepared shortly after Professor Sutherland had visited Tokerau on one of his searching tours to study the welfare of the Maori people. Professor of psychology at Canterbury college, Professor Sutherland, who died last February, had made a profound study of the relations between Pakeha and Maori. When he died, he had a large work on this subject in preparation, so that the article printed here is one of his last complete contributions to the history of Maori progress.

The Maori tribes in the north took the first and most intensive shock of contact with the white man and his civilization and early in the nineteenth century Maori culture was rapidly and extensively lost among them. Inter-tribal wars and war with the white man took place and later there were extensive alienations of land and the northern Maori people remained for many years in a depressed and more or less static condition, with the kauri gum industry supplying a rather uncertain means of livelihood. To take one item, the loss of culture may be illustrated by the disappearance of the characteristic design and decoration of the Maori meeting house and the adoption throughout the north of a europeanized style of hall. Or it may be illustrated by Sir Apirana Ngata's remark, when preparations were being made for the 1934 Waitangi gathering and when the northerners had to be coached in the entertainment they were to offer, that the rhythm of the haka had died out in the ears of the northern tribesmen. Recent years have seen an interesting revival of some features of Maori culture in the north, as will be mentioned.

Maori land development and farming had commenced in the north before the schemes authorized by the 1929–30 legislation were initiated. The introduction of the latter was made difficult by the scattered nature of land interests due to alienations, but early reports state that the commencement of the schemes was characterized to a notable extent by co-operation and selfhelp. The northerners, it was said, worked for one meal a day and provided that themselves. The present state of Maori farming in the north, the number of settlers involved and the butter-fat yields represent a really big forward move in economic and social progress, even if complicated to some extent in recent years by social security benefits and the temptation to take well paid jobs on public works. The feature that most immediately impressed the writer was the much needed improvement in housing which has taken place. Maori housing in the north was particularly bad and while there are still some very poor homes, they are now the exceptions. (The twenty families living in Army huts at Moerewa^* certainly deserve something being done for them.) The new houses in the north are modest and more attention might have been given to their planning and appearance.

Along with economic progress has gone a movement for marae improvement and the building of carved and decorated meeting houses, the latter stimulated no doubt by the fine centennial house at Waitangi. The ‘poplar house’ at Mangamuka and the partially completed dining halls at Otiria and Panguru (with their plans for carved houses) are significant signs of a returning vitality among the Maori people in the north. Incidentally, the loss of the art of carving had been so complete that most northerners had lost all knowledge of their own style of carving or were unaware that they had ever had characteristic patterns and it is the Arawa style of carving that has been used in the new buildings. It is to be hoped that the traditional northern patterns will in time be revived.

Though the land development schemes of the past twenty years represent the greatest single movement of Maori economic progress and though one would not like to contemplate what the condition of the Maori people might now be had they not been initiated by Sir Apirana Ngata, it has long been recognised that they do not at one stroke provide for the rapidly increasing Maori population. This is particularly true of the North Auckland district. Many young people have in recent years made their way to Auckland and elsewhere, a movement which the conditions during World War II greatly accelerated. But the problem of numbers (something like 25,000) in relation to economic resources and vocational opportunities remains in the north, with particularly acute spots like the Te Hapua community where more than half the population is under fifteen years and where the outlook for local employment is practically nil. It was interesting to hear of the attempts at developing local industries at Te Kao and to hear many suggestions for local industries in the north generally. But nothing practicable has been suggested nor seems likely to eventuate and the only solution to the problem of numbers and lack of resources would seem to be boldly planned group migration. Already as a result of the existence of welfare officers the movement south is less haphazard than it was.

It was pleasing to see in the north some instances of economic self-help by Maori groups. The small sawmill at Otiria is an example and Teaka Rapana's settlement at Te Tii is a more extensive and a more interesting one. Space does not permit a full account of the Rapana movement, the latest of a long series of Maori prophetic movements, but a visit to the community of some 300 people at Te Tii gave an impression of industry and order based on strong religious leadership. Rapana is a prophet of a new sort, with a good deal of practical common-sense, and during the past three years much has been done by his people by hard work on an unpromising site. It was impressive to hear the local schoolmaster dispose of rumours about the settlement and say: ‘This is a healthy movement. The people are sober, honest and hard-working.’ While social security benefits, which are partly pooled, are a large source of the community's revenue, working parties go out daily on contract to nearby farms and bring in cash which again is partially pooled, with a sharing out at the end of each year in accordance with labour put in. Housing is still primitive, but gardens are neat and well-filled and the marae is really well laid out with lawn, flower beds, shrubs, and trees and a set of community buildings which are the result of local effort. Customs and etiquette of the marae are well carried out. How long the movement may be sustained is a matter for speculation, but it has survived the early official prophecies that it was economically unsound and that nothing could be done with the site. One got the impression that its main difficulty may be the lack of recreational outlets available to the young people. Meanwhile it provides a wellordered way of life for several hundred people.

Facilities for secondary education have considerably increased in the north in recent years and the establishment of Northland College at Kaikohe in 1947 represents a big step forward in educational facilities. This school, with its varied courses, is an institution admirably equipped to meet the educational needs of both pakeha and Maori young people in its area.

In any inter-racial situation rumour and myth develop very easily and they have developed in regard to the Maoris in the north and elsewhere in recent years, especially in regard to abuses and misuse of social security benefits. Even a brief enquiry shows to what extent rumour grows beyond the actual facts. The latter, so far as they exist, should, however, be closely studied and frankly reported by those dealing with Maori affairs. Contacts and observations made during a visit to a Maori district today show the Department of Maori Affairs active in a many-sided and increasingly enlightened way.

Left: Kelly Keepa and Garry Gear feeding the grinder with 3ft. pinus logs. Grinders crushing the logs into pulp are driven by 1200 H.P. motors. Right: Two cadets. Training at the Mill consist of several years in all departments, during which period evening classes are also available. These boys are in the laboratory for a six months period.

NEW ZEALAND DEVELOPS
A NEW INDUSTRY
BAY OF PLENTY WILL BE TRANSFORMED

Some Twenty-five years ago, people began to become aware of the great possibilities of using New Zealand grown forests for paper production. By then, many people were aware of the amazing rapidity of growth of certain timbers in New Zealand soils, especially pinus. It would be cheaper to grow the type of young pine tree used for paper production in New Zealand than in almost any other country, because of the short period of growth of the trees. The Government had some experiments carried out in the United States in 1928. A few years after that an Australian Company, named ‘Timberlands Woodpulp Ltd.’, arranged for some more detailed investigations. It was proved experimentally that the New Zealand woods used in the experiments (pinus insignia, rimu and tawa) were suitable for the manufacture of Kraft wrappings, board, newsprint, writings and high-grade white papers. On the basis of these experiments the Whakatane Paper Mills Ltd. was founded in 1934 with a capital of over £2.5 million.

So far, these paper mills have made a significant contribution to the problem of finding work for Maoris in their home districts. As the first of several mills that are planned in the Bay of Plenty area, it has pointed the way, not only to the employment of local people, but also to training them in a highly skilled trade.

Native Races Need Not Die

by PETER H. BUCK

There is an old prophecy credited to a Maori seer who foretold coming events before white people arrived in New Zealand. ‘Behind the tattooed face,’ it runs, ‘a stranger stands who will inherit this land; he is white.’

If the pessimists who consigned the Maori to early extinction could come back to life, they would receive a great shock. The Maori population, which sank to an estimated 37,520 in 1871, has steadily risen until now it is reaching 90,000. The birth rate is four times as great as that of the white New Zealanders, and though the death rate is twice as high, the Maori rate of increase is still greater than that of the whites. There is little doubt that with steadily increasing knowledge in health matters, balanced diet and improved housing, the death rate will be decreased materially and the rate of increase correspondingly augmented. The psychology of the present generation is entirely changed from that of their ancestors in the latter half of the eighteenth century. The fear of extinction has passed with the tattooed men of old and their white contemporaries. The final word ma in the ancient Maori prophecy quoted is capable of being translated as ‘clean’ as well as ‘white’. The prophecy in the light of recent history may be rephrased as follows, ‘Behind the tattooed face, another stands who will live on in this land; his face is untattooed.’ Tattooing has been long abandoned, and the face of the Maori of to-day is as clean as that of his white neighbour. The problem to-day is not to smooth down the dying pillow of the Maori but to provide the steadily increasing population with adequate opportunities for living in order to justify the ideals that civilization has claimed for itself.

The claim that civilization has had a lethal effect upon native races is unfortunately true in a number of instances. The extinction of the Tasmanians was accelerated by treating them as animals and shooting them like game. The Australian aboriginal has disappeared in many parts of Australia, and the remnants subsist best in areas that have no economic interest to the invading whites. However, the assumption of the law of extinction of native races has been disproved by the history of the Maori branch of the Polynesian people and other branches as well. The Samoans have been increasing steadily, and the problem that faces government administration is to encourage and help such natives to bring more of their lands into cultivation to provide for the future. It is evident from past history that native races have suffered severely for the century following western contact. Epidemics and venereal diseases were introduced and it took a number of generations before governments were educated enough to introduce preventive and protective measures and before native people could develop a certain amount of immunity, to lessen the death toll. The native cultures were disorganized and western peoples were too engrossed in commercial exploitation to bother about assisting the natives in making adjustments to the changed conditions. It is apparent that native peoples have gone steadily down hill after European contact until they reached the bottom. Some have disappeared, some still survive as remnants, but others after plumbing the depths are steadily on the up-grade. Those who have emerged from extinction owe the fact to their innate pertinacity and courage combined with good leadership by their chiefs. Government officials have had to abandon the policy of watching a native people die out and are forced by the change in public opinion to realize the state's responsibility in inaugurating active and sympathetic mea-

sures for the betterment of its native minorities. Once recovery commences, it should continue.

All native peoples have had their problems of adjustment to climate, geographical conditions, raw materials, foods and their human neighbours. If we take the Polynesian people as an example, it is evident that, when their ancestors left the mainland of Asia and penetrated into the islands of Indonesia, they had to adjust their culture to suit the new environment and so develop an oceanic culture. They developed the building and handling of outrigger and double canoes. From landsmen, they became fishermen and seamen. They developed such skill and courage in their maritime pursuits that when the push of invading hordes came from the western mainland they were able to sail east into the open sea in search of new homes with confidence in themselves.

During their passage eastward through Micronesia, the Polynesians encountered changes in the physical character of the islands, with accompanying changes in raw material. The islands encountered in the Carolines were volcanic as far as Kusaie and hence provided basaltic stone for their tools. The volcanic soil also enabled them to grow the cultivable food plants that they carried with them, root crops and fruit-bearing trees. Beyond Kusaie, the islands changed to low-lying atolls without the soil necessary for their food plants. The only food plant of their introduced stock that would grow was the coconut. For vegetable food they had to rely on the coconut and the pandanus, which had perhaps preceded them through ocean currents. The lack of basaltic stone made them fall back upon marine shells such as the Tridacna for their necessary tools. The shell adze is a sorry substitute for the stone adze, and yet with it trees were felled and split into planks to make the large vessels with which the eastward voyages were continued. Thus a stone culture was changed of necessity to a shell culture. The eastward groping was carried out by successive generations until, at long last, voyaging ships reached what are now known as the Society Islands, set in the centre of the many islands know as Polynesia.

The Society Islands were volcanic, with fertile soil and rich supplies of basalt. Again adjustments had to be made and the shell culture changed back to stone. The food plants, however, had failed to cross the atoll barrier, and so had the three domesticated animals, the pig, the dog, and the fowl. Voyages to the west re-discovered the plants and animals in Fiji, whither they had come through the uninterrupted volcanic chain of Melanesia. Polynesian ships brought them back, and so they were restored to the culture that was developing apace in central Polynesia. From this centre, subsequent voyagers radiated out in various directions until all the islands of Polynesia were discovered and settled. But though a common culture pattern, the cultivable food plants and the domesticated animals were carried forth, different physical features in various islands necessitated further local adjustments. Some of the islands within Polynesia were atolls and, in such islands, the stone culture again lapsed into a shell culture, with the loss of food plants and domesticated animals. The richer and more varied food supply of the volcanic islands supplied material for richer social customs and religious ritual.

The Maori branch of the Polynesians made their way south-west to New Zealand, where the cold climate necessitated adjustments not required in the tropical isles whence they came. It is to be assumed that the Maori settlers took all the cultivable food plants and domesticated animals present in their island home. Owing to the climate, the coconut, breadfruit, plantain and banana would not grow. The root crops such as the sweet potato, taro and yam survived, but were limited to the warmer parts of the country. Of the three domesticated animals, only the dog reached New Zealand. The paper mulberry from which bark cloth was made in Polynesia did not do well, and in any case the cloth proved unsuitable for protection from cold and wet. A form of weaving was used to make more suitable garments from the fibre of the local flax (Phormium tenax). The form of Polynesian house with more open walls for ventilation was abandoned for structures with thick, padded walls, and the floor was sunk below the ground surface for warmth. The indigenous trees with large trunks enabled canoes to be made with wide hulls that needed no outrigger to balance them. Hence the outrigger canoe disappeared in New Zealand. Jade was discovered and furnished material for more efficient adzes and chisels and also for clubs and precious ornaments. Owing to the frequent wars that developed between tribes, hilltops and cliff-girt promontories were selected for defensive village sites and further strengthened with trenches and palisades. The food had to be carried up the steep hillsides, and as a result the Polynesian balance pole was abandoned

for plaited bands whereby the burden could be carried on the back. And so many changes were made in Maori culture to suit local conditions.

The approximation of one human race or tribe to another in culture or arts by contact has been termed ‘acculturation’. In acculturation, it is usually the weaker people who have to do most of the approximating. Between native tribes, the stronger will usually accept and adopt matters connected with fishing, fowling and local foods from a weaker tribe in prior occupation of the land, but the weaker tribe has to accept the systems of social organization and religion. Though acculturation has occurred among native peoples, the term is now usually applied to the changes and adjustments that are taking place between native people and the representatives of western culture, whether they be from Europe or America.

It was to material things that the attention of the Maoris was first drawn by contact with early European voyagers. The voyagers brought goods as part of their stock in trade to barter for food and other needs. Steel hatchets, hoop iron and nails were quickly recognized as being vastly superior to stone tools and, as soon as the supply was adequate, the Maori left the Stone Age for the age of metals. But in spite of the change in material much of the native technique was retained. Hoop iron and plane blades took the place of the stone adze head, but they were attached to handles of Polynesian form and lashed in position with native cordage. Nails were better than shell or bone for fish-hooks, so they were beaten out and shaped to the native form and for many years they were preferred to the trade hooks. Traders followed the voyagers and tempted the Maoris with various articles such as textiles, guns, tobacco and alcohol. Missionaries also entered the field and carried a supply of goods for exchange or to pay for services rendered. When white settlement took place, increasing supplies of goods made further inroads into Maori material culture. The gun and the steel tomahawk supplanted the native weapons of wood, stone, whalebone and jade. Loom-woven prints, woollens and blankets gradually displaced garments that were finger-woven from flax fibre. The clothing was altered not only in material but also in form, and hats and shoes made a further approach toward western culture. The houses thatched with local plants were replaced by buildings of sawn timber and corrugated iron, but the assembly houses retained their native form. Windows were added for light and ventilation and the sunken earth floor gave way to the raised board floor on account of rheumatism. The craft of the wood carver disappeared, but has been revived by the establishment of a school of carving.

Changes took place in regard to food. The yam disappeared, the taro lingers in some localities and the sweet potato is grown in smaller quantities than of yore. Their place has been taken by the introduced Irish potato, easier to cultivate and more prolific in a temperate climate. Flour and sugar became necessities. Tea displaced water as a beverage at meals, and the gourd water container disappeared before the complex of kettle, teapot, cup, saucer, milk jug, sugar basin and spoons. The further complex of dining rooms with their equipment of tables, chairs, table cloth, plates, dishes, knives, forks and spoons replaced the simple setting in which the people sat cross-legged on the ground and ate with their fingers from plaited flax platers. The iron cooking range with its iron pots and pans displaced the simple earth oven with its red-hot stones and cover of plaited mats and earth. It all seems simple and obvious, but the changes took time and the adjustments of native culture toward the western pattern are good examples of the process of acculturation going on.

Another series of changes took place in religion. The Maoris brought with them the pattern of Polynesian religion, with major gods ruling over various departments of life and minor gods created locally by deifying certain ancestors. In central Polynesia, public worship was carried on at open temples with a paved court and a stone platform at one end. The stone platform (ahu) was the strictly religious part of the structure, near which the priests officiated, and the paved or gravelled court (marae) was where the select congregation gathered. The general term ‘marae’, however, was applied to the temple and it was used also for social purposes such as feasts and festivals. In New Zealand, the stone platform was represented by a stone pillar or post or even some natural outcrop of rock, all located outside the village. To this detached symbol of the altar the priest, alone or accompanied by an assistant, went to consult his god. The open court of the Polynesian temple was represented by the open space before the village assembly house, and it was here that all social functions took place. It retained the name of marae; and thus the religious and social functions of the Polynesian marae

were divorced in New Zealand.

The voyagers and traders had no interest in religion. Missionaries, however, from various Christian churches came to evangelize the heathen. They made a direct attack against the Maori form of theology. The golden rule of brotherly love was preached, and war and cannibalism were condemned. The new religion was accepted by the chiefs, and their tribes followed. It was some time, however, before the various tribes would give up the satisfaction of using their newly acquired firearms against their hereditary enemies. Old scores had to be settled as a point of tribal honour. Finally, the new teaching prevailed and inter-tribal wars ended. With the cessation of wars, the supply of slain enemies ended and cannibalism ceased. By this time, the introduction of pigs, cattle and sheep provided a substitute that had previously been lacking. The ending of wars also led to the hill forts being vacated and villages being established on the flat lands near the food cultivations. With the change in site, the simple form of sanitation possible on the hilltops could no longer be carried out and water supplies were often contaminated by the introduced typhoid bacillus, which exacted a heavy toll. The Maori priests became normal citizens and the simplified form of altar, though it retained a superstitious taboo, ceased to function. The marae, however, because it had been divorced from religious sanctions, still functions as the social assembly place of the people. The missionaries compiled an alphabet, and the Bible was translated into Maori. Mission schools were early established, and the Maoris were taught to read and write in their own language and in English. Later a system of education was undertaken by the state. Unorthodox Maori sects have risen and fallen, but now the Maori people, with few exceptions, follow some form or other of Christianity. They have built churches, many have been ordained as clergymen, and the Maori diocese of Aotearoa rejoices in a Maori bishop.

In social organization, Maori culture changed more slowly. The people are grouped in tribes, with all members claiming descent from a common ancestor after whom the tribe is named. The tribe is composed of sub-tribes which, as population increased, budded off to occupy more land for cultivating. Chiefs succeeded to rank by seniority in the male line, and they ruled with the advice of heads of families freely expressed in public gatherings. Certain customs such as the birth dedication to a god and marriage by family arrangement without religious ritual were changed to the Christian forms of baptism and marriage by religious ceremony. Polygamy was also changed by the church to the system of one wife at a time. The death customs, however, have retained much of the old. The body lies in state while relatives and visitors pay their respects with wailing and speeches. The deceased is farewelled with old-time imagery as returning to the ancestral spirit land to join the multitude of his people. References are made to mythology, and classical dirges are sung to round off the speeches. The ceremonies throb with an emotion that is entirely Maori, and then the body is buried in a consecrated cemetery by an ordained clergyman of the Christian church to which the family renders adherence. The Government, the laws and the church have all taken something from the power and influence of the chief and yet the chiefs have remained the leaders of their people. The tribes have retained their identity, and they still regard their chiefs as the real heads of their blood groups. Though settlement upon scattered farms is breaking up the village life, the tribal assembly place with its marae court remains the rallying centre to which the tribe returns on call to weep for its dead and to discuss matters that concern the welfare of the living.

From recent experiences, it is obvious that the theory that all native races are doomed to extinction after contact with western culture is not true. The theory has been used as an excuse for neglect in the past. It is true that a period of depression has followed first contact and that the psychology of the people of that period has been profoundly affected. But, with wise administration and education, recovery follows and succeeding generations grow up in a changed atmosphere of hope for the future. The native culture may lose much, but it may still retain some of its best elements and gain much. It may through its mythology, legends, traditions, history, language and poetry add a rich storehouse of emotional value to the writer, artist and poet of both races. It may even add some traits of a humane nature that would not be amiss in the present state of maladjusted western culture. When the state recognizes its responsibilities to its native people, it is by wise co-operation with native leaders that the people may be guided to reap the greatest benefits from the process of acculturation.

Asia,

July, 1940.

He Korero mo te
Mata me te Paura

Meiha Ropata

Tetahi. Muri rawa iho ka tae mai a Kapene Kuki ki tenei motu. Ka tu tona kaipuke ki Turanganui-o-Kiwa. Katahi ka hoe tona poti ki uta, he haere nana ki te hoko kai ma ratou ko ana heramana. Katahi ka whakatika mai nga tangata o taua whenua he patu i a ratou ko ana heramana ki a ratou taiaha, meremere, tokotoko, huata. Katahi ia ka mea ki ona tangata:— ‘Me hoki tatou ki te kaipuke, kei mate tatou.’ Ka mea a Kapene Kuki, he kainga kai kore taua kainga, he tangata tonu pea te kai a nga tangata o tena whenua. (Nana noa tenei i whakaatu mai ki nga tangata i etahi kainga i muri iho.) Na reira i huaina ai e ia te ingoa, o tera whenua ko ‘Kokorutanga Kai-kore’. Katahi ka rere tona kaipuke, tu rawa atu i Uawa, ka kite ia i a te Whakatatareoterangi. Katahi ia ka mea atu:— ‘Tatare! Tatare! Homai he kai.’ Katahi ka tukua te tahua kai ki a ia. No reira te ki a Kapene Kuki:— ‘Tatare! Tatare te rangatira.’ Katahi ka hoatu e Kapene Kuki ki a te Whakatatareoterangi ko te kakahu hanara, ko te pu whakatangi mai tawhiti, ko te kaho paura, me te mata kahupapa. Ka mea atu a Kapene Kuki kia taraitia te pupuhi i te pu. Katahi ka purua, ka whakapiria ki te paparinga, katahi ka puhia. No te pakunga he ohomauri anake; taia ana te pu ra ki runga ki te kohatu, whati tonu atu, whiua atu hoki ki te wai. Katahi ka wahia te kaho paura. Na, ka kitea nga paura o roto kiia ana he pua korau. Katahi ka taraia te waerenga, ka oti; ka maroke ka tahuna ki te ahi, katahi ka ruia. Katahi ka hari, ka whakatauki te tangata i reira:— ‘Katahi ano ka ora nga wahine me nga tamariki, ka ngaro hoki te kopura-kai ki te whenua.’ Ka mea etahi:— ‘Ana! E tama, he aha koa i kiia ai. He rawe ake nei.’ Katahi ka ua te ua; ka mea te tangata:— ‘Katahi ano te puiaki mo te pua i ruia nei.’

Ko te mata ka hangaia hei toki hangaia, whakakoi rawa te mata, whakanoho rawa ki runga ki te kakau pai. Katahi ka haere te rongo o te toki a Whakatatareoterangi ki nga iwi katoa. Katahi ka huihui ki te matakitaki. Ka whakamatauria taua toki ki tana kai, ki te rakau. No te whiunga atu kite rakau, anana! Ka humene mai te wahi i whakakoia! Katahi ka mea te iwi nui tonu:—‘E! he kore kaore i tahuna ki te ahi! Me i tahuna ki te ahi katahi ka pakeke.’ Ka mea te nuinga:—‘He tika! Mahia mai he wahie. Hei te wahie mata, kia roa ai te kaanga, kia pakeke ai te toki nei.’ Katahi ka tahuna he ahi, ka ka, ka toroa ki runga ki te ahi; anana! kihai i roa ka tere! Katahi ka karanga te tangata:— ‘Kapea ki tahaki! Me ata whiriwhiri marie he tikanga mo te toki nei.’ He tokomaha nga tangata i whakatika ki te kape ki te kape ki tahaki; he nui hoki a ratou rakau ki te kape. No te kapenga rnai, motu ke, motu ke. Katahi ano ka pae ki te tahataha ki te mahue, ki te whakarere. Ka tutuki hoki ki tona tutukitanga a te kuare.

50 YEARS
of Maori Self government

In 1900 the idea was first broached in Parliament that it would be desirable for the Maori people to have some form of local self-government, similar to that of borough or county councils. Sir James Carroll, then Native Minister, and the young Maori Party which also encouraged the measure, felt that such local self-government would be of especially great help in raising Maori morale and in conserving in some way the rights of the Maori people to rule themselves in their own organisation.

Thus the Maori Councils were established by the Maori Councils Act, 1900. This legislation authorised the Maori people ‘to frame for themselves such rules and Regulations on matters of local concernment, or relating to their social economy as may appear best adapted to their own special ones’. Power was given to the Council to make by-laws for the following purposes:

The Act also regulated the proceedings of tohungas. Provision was also made for the proper registration of dogs, the branding of cattle, suppression of gambling, matters affecting oyster-beds, water-supply, schools, sanitation and general social matters.

In 1911, representatives of Maori Councils throughout New Zealand were called to a conference at Wellington. At this conference it was decided to continue the Councils, as it appeared that they had many beneficial effects on the Maoris, especially in the improvement of housing and sanitation conditions and the restriction of various abuses. The influence of self-government on morale might have contributed to the spirit of hope evident in the Maori people at the time through rise in population, school attendance and industry generally.

However, the grave problem facing the

conference was that of finance. The only income of the Maori Councils was derived from fines and dog taxes. This being hopelessly insufficient, the conference proposed the institution of various additional taxes. It seems, however, that in practice it was impossible to levy any of them satisfactorily.

It is, indeed, remarkable that the Maori Councils were able to keep alive as long as they did with practically no money. In 1930, some new life was infused into them when they were empowered by a Health Act to carry out sanitary works and to enforce by-laws relating to health and sanitation. Control over the Councils was taken over by the Health Department and a Director of Maori Hygiene appointed. Sir Peter Buck was the first Director.

Even so the difficulties of finance and the inability to enforce the by-laws prevented the Maori Councils from being healthy institutions. A new large Maori Councils conference was held at Ngaruawahia in 1929. Here a letter to the Native Minister was unanimously approved, expressing the opinion ‘that the Act did not supply that authority which was necessary to enable the several Councils to carry out the full intention of Parliament’. The conference recommended consolidating the Maori Councils Act and by-laws and supplying finance by means of subsidy. As a result of these recommendations the by-laws were in fact revived, but nothing further happened until 1940. According to the Health Department the position of the Maori Councils in 1945 (the date of their abolition) was as follows:

TE ARAROA

These sketches of a true old-time Maori township were made by William Jones, a young English painter who came to settle in New Zealand recently. Perhaps the most spectacular sight in Te Araroa is the giant Pohutukawa tree (right) called Te Waha o Rerekohu, which stands on what is now the school site. This historical tree, over 65 feet high with a branch spread of about 120 feet all round, is claimed to be the largest pohutukawa in New Zealand. Planted long ago when the site was still an important marae named Kawakawa, the tree was named after the pataka built next to it.

The tree is still strongly tapu today. When the school committee decided recently that one of the lower branches should be cut off to improve the balance of the tree no one could be found willing to do this job and the branch remains.

Peti Karaka, Putanga, Tikitiki.

Te Waha o Rerekohu.

Going home to mum. For some of these children the ‘bus’ trip home will last three hours.

MATAKANA ACHIEVEMENT

There is one difference between the school at Matakana Island—the island that stretches along the coast opposite Tauranga Harbour—and the schools of various other outback communities. It may be a trivial difference but it is a significant one. It is well known that the Education Department made a great contribution to progress in isolated communities by putting bathing facilities for the children in the schools. In some places all the children are bathed. In Matakana Island however, where there are absolutely no aids to man except horses, rain-tanks and one small aeroplane, only a small minority of the children need the use of the school showers.

Nothing could tell more of Matakana Island's 400 inhabitants, nearly all Maori, than the children. Apart from the few that live around the school they arrive in the morning in three so-called ‘school buses’. Two of them are drawn by four horses, and another, the big champion bus, is drawn by six. One of the little buses stands on the beach underneath a tree. The big one stands on a paddock at the back of the school. There the buses wait until the afternoon when, first the horses arrive and the drivers, and then the children climb on for the ride home.

The small buses take an hour to get home; the big one takes three hours. First it gallops along Matakana's only road, a mile of clay road from the school to the jetty, then it slowly descends to the beach, turns to the right and plods its way along the

Matakana Jetty.

Matakana School.

This bus is like a second home. During the winter it is probably lit with an oil lamp and the children sing the songs they have learnt in school while the waves ram against the bus and ebb and flow across the floor.

This is the school which seems to have reached a per-child record for the Post Office savings contributions. The total collected is around £1,200; some of the parents give their children five pound notes tor their contributions.

Most of the older people had a very rudimentary education; the school was a new element in their lives. Successive headmasters brought the new ideas of mainland civilisation not only to the children but also to the parents. The present head, Mr Nicholls, recognised that the main problem for Matakana is that of intensifying production on the large areas cultivated or grassed. The Matakana Young Farmers' Club, which has done so much, with the leadership of the agriculture instructor, Mr Allo, was started through his initiative.

In the crude hard struggle with the elements in which the Matakana Islanders

Field about to be planted in maize.

The big bus is about to depart.

‘The new lady teacher they sent us last year is so beautiful; you would hardly believe it,’ so I was told, and she was certainly lovely. The very best things of this earth are sent to Matakana Island; that is how the Islanders see it.

The parents see that the children live up to this. One can imagine what incredible efforts must be made, in the circumstances I pointed at, to send the children to school immaculately dressed, as if they were going to an important ceremony.

The Matakana Islanders are always busy. Arriving on the island on a summer's day, I was struck by the stillness of the sea, the dry, hazy atmosphere. The road running from the idle jetty was sandy, dusty and was meant for slow walkers. The overseer's cart stood against a fence, and also looked as if it had plenty of time. All that is deceptive, and one soon notices it. Nobody is sitting down, everybody is, quite steadily, going about some business, mostly the business of farming. Matakana Island used to specialise in cropping ventures, in particular maize, kumaras and early potatoes; during the war when maize production was part of the Maori agricultural war effort, the Islanders grew as much as 1,000 acres of it. At present a changeover is occurring towards dairying, mainly under guidance of the Department of Agriculture. Production on the island is about 200,000 lbs. butter fat. Many Islanders are employed by the Forest Products Ltd., which has a large plantation on Matakana.

One is struck by the big areas and the big herds that everybody seems to be handling, and the future problem will be not the development of idle land but the intensification of production on the present holdings. There still is some idle land, mostly due to difficulties of title.

The Matakana Islanders are one of the few Maori communities which have orga-

Collecting the mail at the wharf.

nised co-operative enterprises. They own a store and are running a lucrative ferry company.

Here, then, is a Maori community that has made a striking success in adjustment to the Pakeha world. The reason lies in their isolation, say the moralists, in their long distance from the distractions of the mainland. It may be so, but looking over the history of the island I was more struck by how little, than, how much had happened. The Matakana Islanders were not attacked by the Ngapuhi's, when Tauranga was invaded; together with so many other Maori communities they learned from the missionaries how to grow crops, particularly wheat. The Maori wars, the land purchases, the corruption of the eighties and nineties passed them by: at the turn of the century they were still growing wheat. They did not know about regular crop rotation, so went on cultivating ever new areas until they too were exhausted and the Islanders changed over to other crops, oats and barley. This lasted until the twenties.

When the Maori Affairs Department Started land development operations, there was comparitively little land entirely undeveloped. A few farmers had their lands gazetted, but the majority went on in the old way. Maize and kumara, too, were already grown extensively at that time.

The development of Matakana Island was undoubtedly speed up through the war and the very large-scale crop growing war effort financed by the Waiariki Maori Land Board. Generally, however, this community has enjoyed little government assistance. It is a community that has grown in direct line out of the pre-Pakeha Maori people: Western civilisation filtered through slowly while the people had time, at their own place, to grasp enough of Western ideas to become successful farmers and citizens, and to grasp, essentially, far more of the Pakeha world than other groups who were forced into contact with the Pakeha at a faster and more disturbing rate.

Waiting for the children. One of the smaller school buses on the beach.