In the days of tribal warfare the natives often barricaded themselves within an enclosure called a pa, the term now used for their settlements. As day after day they pursued their policy of “watchful waiting” for their enemies, the men occupied themselves with wood carving, in which they became most expert. To-day one sometimes sees the doorways of their houses beautifully and accurately carved as in the olden times. They had no patterns but made up their designs as they went along.
The women used to make most elaborate and beautiful feather cloaks, plaiting the soft, downy plumage of the kiwi into woven flax. These cloaks were handed down from mother to daughter. Few are made nowadays, but they are sometimes worn on special occasions and in the poi dances.
For the poi dance the girls are dressed in kiwi-feather cloaks or in loose embroidered draperies of gay colours. Their long, wavy dark hair is confined only by ribbons about their foreheads. Usually their feet are bare. The dance gets its name from the two small balls of flax fibre with which each girl is provided. These are attached to strings and, as the girls go through various movements, representing such things as swimming, the flight of butterflies, the soaring of birds, or the rowing of a canoe, the poi balls are swung in perfect time. The music is a soft crooning, which is delightful, as the Maoris all have beautiful speaking and singing voices.
The men’s dance, the haka, is quite different. In olden times this usually preceded a battle and was intended not only to work the braves into a state of fury but also to put them in good condition for the fight. It calls into play practically every muscle of the body. It is always possible for tourists to see some kind of a haka, but only on great occasions, and for distinguished visitors, like the Prince of Wales, for example, is it witnessed in its true glory. Then Maoris, who in ordinary life may be doctors, lawyers, grocers, and landlords, put patches of black paint on their faces, array themselves in knee skirts of flax fibre, and arm themselves with feather-tufted spears. With their bodies bare to the waist and with bare feet and legs, they leap and stamp, stick out their tongues, and make faces such as the old natives believed would frighten their enemies, give sharp barking shouts, slap their knees, and swing their spears in perfect time to the music of a band.
In their primitive state the Maoris were, of course, superstitious and traces of their ancient beliefs are still to be found. For instance, near the native fort at Rotorua is a kind of bird box set on top of a pole. This was a spirit house, and when danger was near, the spirit who lived in it was supposed to shout out a warning to the people. Within the memory of old native women the Maoris used to put food in the box for the spirit.
Like other South Sea Islanders the Maoris believed in the tapu, by which certain things were forbidden. For example, a chief, his family, and his belongings were tapu. A chief who touched his own head must put his fingers to his nose and snuff up the sacred contagion from his head or else he would suffer the consequences of tapu. One might make a tree tapu by giving it a chop with an axe. Certain animals, places, and foods were forbidden. There are cases on record where natives in perfect health died in great agony after finding they had made a mistake and eaten some food that was tapu. Charms were worn to ward off evil. The most common was a piece of green stone carved into a grotesque figure with rolling eyes and tongue lolling out. This is the tiki, or green charm, which is still often worn by the native women on chains about their necks.
It gives one an idea of how recently the Maoris were savages, feared by the pioneers, to hear the story of the first white man born in the Wellington District, who is still alive. He remembers how one night when he was three or four years of age the Maoris came upon the hut that his parents had set up in the bush. The older people were obliged to run for their lives, but the child was too heavy to carry and could not walk well. If they tried to take him, all might be captured and killed. So he was thrust far up the chimney and told that whatever happened he must make no sound. There he spent the rest of the night, without a cry, while the Maoris searched the house and took away whatever struck their fancies. In the morning, after the natives had left, his parents returned and took him down from his perch, half dead with fright and exhaustion.
Yet the grandchildren of those uncivilized Maoris are to-day occupying important positions in the Dominion, acting as members of Parliament and making good in various professions. They had their own battalion in the Anzac forces in the World War and were conspicuous for bravery. Many of them married French girls. The cultured Maori is received in any society. The outstanding orator of New Zealand is Sir James Carroll, the son of an Irishman and a full-blooded Maori woman. He has served in the highest position his country can bestow, for he has been acting Prime Minister of the Dominion.
In New Zealand, while intermarriage with the Maoris is not exactly favoured, neither is it actually frowned upon, and the number of half castes is increasing. Still, one hears gossip about mixed marriages. There is the case of a wealthy New Zealand girl who announced her intention of marrying a native. Her mother was opposed and took her daughter on a trip around the world. But the girl returned and married her Maori. Her children are rather dark, yet they go everywhere. Another case I have heard of is that of an Englishman of good family who married a native and took her to England. Their children were educated on the Continent and did not realize the status of their mother until their father died and she returned with them to New Zealand. Then she went back to her Maori relations. The oldest daughter was engaged to an officer in the British army, but broke her engagement when she found out about the roots of her family tree.
The Maoris now own about five million acres of land in the Dominion, by far the larger part of it in the North Island. They are fairly good farmers, though inclined to be indolent. Sometimes a native will sell some of his land, take the cash, and live high while it lasts. The less educated man who comes into money usually gets himself a high-powered car and a loud checked suit; he buys his wife an expensive fur coat and makes all the display possible. The natives are protected by the government through special land boards, which will not allow a Maori to part with all his land.