[pg 83] Thus the island was given up to Tu-o-rotorua. But the mana of the land was Kahu’s. Hence the song of Taipari before mentioned[58]; for Taipari sprang from the race of Tama-ihu-toroa. Tama’s son was Tuara, and Tuara was an ancestor of Taipari.
As they paddled away from Motu-tapu Kahu bid farewell to Tu-o-rotorua—“Abide there, my child, you and your father. Alas! that I have not seen your father.”
“Go, sir, go,” were the parting words of Tu. “Go to guard your ancestor; go to the Arawa.”
Leaving their canoes at the Toanga they went on towards Maketu. On the way Kahu’s grandchild became thirsty, and cried for water. Kahu had compassion for the child, and chanted a karakia, and when the karakia was ended he stamped on the ground, and water came forth. Hence that place was named Te Wai-takahi-a-kahu (the water of Kahu’s stamping).
Kahu afterwards remained at Maketu, and died, and was buried there. When he died the mana of Maketu went to his son Tawaki-moe-tahanga. When Tawaki died, the mana-rahi of Maketu went to Uenuku, who also died at Maketu when an old man. Then his son Rangitihi abandoned Maketu, and went to Rotorua, and settled at Matapara with all his family.
When Kahu left Ihenga at Kaipara at the dwelling place of his elder brother Taramainuku, he thus bid him farewell—“Sir, be quick to return to your child, my grandchild, Tama-ihu-toroa. Do not delay.” So Ihenga remained at Kaipara for a short time. Then travelling [pg 84] northwards he came to Ripiro. The food of that place was toheroa. Kupe placed it there for food for his daughter, Tai-tu-auru-o-te-marowhara. The great rolling waves on that coast have been named after her. So says the proverb, “Tai-hau-auru i whakaturia e Kupe ki te Maro-whara.” Going on they arrived at a certain place where Ihenga ate all their toheroa privately in the absence of his companions.
“Who has eat our food?” inquired his companions.
“How should I know?” said Ihenga.
“Why, there was no one but you. You alone remained here.”
So they named the place Kai-hu-a-Ihenga. As they were travelling they came to a hill. No water could be found, and they were parched with thirst; so Ihenga repeated a karakia, and then stamping on the ground a spring of water flowed. Down flew pigeons in flocks to drink the water. So the place was named Waikereru (wood-pigeon water). Afterwards they came to a swamp and a small river. A tree had fallen across the stream by means of which they crossed. But the dog Potakatahiti was killed by the tree rolling on it. Then Ihenga repeated a karakia, saying to the tree—“O tree lying there, raise your head, raise your head.”[59] And the tree raised its head. Afterwards when he reached the higher ground Ihenga saw a tree standing by itself in the centre of the swamp. It was a totara tree. Then by the power of his karakia he made a path for his dog that it might [pg 85] go within the tree, and remain there for ever. And he said to the spirit of the dog, “If I cry ‘moi, moi,’ you must answer ‘au.’ If I cry, ‘ō, ō,’ you must answer ‘ō, ō.’ If I say, ‘Come, we two must go on,’ you are to answer, ‘Go, you, I cannot come.’ If a party of travellers come this way hereafter, and rest on this hill, when you hear them speaking, you must speak to them. If the travellers say, ‘Let us go,’ you are to say ‘Go.’ ” So the spirit of the dog was left to dwell within that tree; and ever since it mocks living men of the generations after Ihenga, even to our time.