[62] Whangaroa—name of a place on the Chatham Islands.
[63] Wharekauri is the native name of the Chatham Islands.
[64] The god of the sea, and guardian of fishes.
[65] Supposed being armed with authority in Hades.
[CHAPTER XXIV.]
NGATOKORUA PA.
Departure from Ruakaka—A legend—Rough forest—Crossing the Manganui-a-te-Ao—Scenery of the river—Mount Towai—The plains in sight—Rapid rise in the country—Ruapehu from the west—The Waimarino plains—Arrival at the pa—The chief's family—A Hauhau chief—Inter alia—Pehi on the decay of the Maoris—A war-dance—The mere.
We left Ruakaka with the best wishes of the natives, Te Pareoterangi riding out some distance with us to put us in the right direction. Our course now lay easterly up the valley of the Manganui-a-te-Ao, and for thirty miles through another portion of the dense forest by which we had come to reach the settlement, but by a route far more difficult to travel, according to the account given to us of the country by the natives, who informed us that we should have to cross the Manganui-a-te-Ao ten times at various points, besides other streams and innumerable creeks, before we could again reach the open country to the north of Ruapehu. The river was still so flooded that the natives earnestly advised us to remain, old Hinepareoterangi remarking, in her jocose way, "If when you are gone the skies open and the great rains descend, I will sit by the rushing waters and wait for your horses and saddles; you will make splendid food for the eels." Notwithstanding this grim joke of the chieftainess of the "heavenly crest," as the clouds were still gathering, and another flood might detain us a week or perhaps a month at Ruakaka, and possibly prevent us from ever reaching Alexandra by the course we had planned, we determined to make a desperate effort to push through. We therefore set out without delay, and crossed the Manganui-a-te-Ao for the first time about a mile below the settlement, at a very picturesque spot, but we had to descend nearly 100 feet to the crossing-place, beyond which a higher bend of the river appeared to be nearly 100 feet above us.
After gaining the opposite side we mounted above the stream to a bold bluff, where once stood a pa called Rotua, which was formerly one of the most formidable strongholds of the valley, and Te Pareoterangi, when he pointed it out, told us of an interesting legend connected with it. On one occasion in years gone by the pa was occupied by two tribes, named respectively the Ngatitamakana and Ngatiatamire. Being at war with other tribes, on one stormy night they were suddenly surprised by the enemy under a noted chief named Tama Turaki, when, seeing all chance of escape hopeless, they made a rope of native flax, and letting themselves down the steep cliffs into the river, took up their position in a stronghold further down the stream called Pukeatua. When, on the following day, Tama Turaki found how the enemy had escaped, he followed them with his tribe down the river in canoes, but the Ngatitamakana and Ngatiatamire, being alive to his movements, conceived the bold idea of consigning their savage pursuer into eternity by one fell swoop. With this chivalrous aim in view, they hauled an enormous mass of rock to the edge of the cliff on which the pa was situated, and below which the canoes of the enemy would pass, and just as they appeared underneath the precipice the rock was hurled from above, and with a thundering crash completely annihilated Tama Turaki and his band. This enormous mass of rock, which may still be seen in the river, is known to the natives as Parekura Huripari,[66] and is looked upon by them even unto this day with that singular display of superstitious veneration which forms one of the most marked characteristics of the Maori race.
When Te Pareoterangi left us, which was about two miles out of the settlement, he told us that we had a dangerous and difficult road to go, and that it would be necessary to make all speed, lest the flood should overtake us, and in that event he added, with true Maori lightheartedness, "If the river don't land you again at Ruakaka you may have to eat your horses." At the fourth crossing-place we had already mounted to an altitude of 1200 feet, but to get to this point we had traversed a hilly, broken region, covered in every direction with a dense growth of rimu-trees. Throughout this portion of the country, not only did the rata-vines coil about the giants of the forest in every direction, but the "supplejacks" kept pulling us up at every turn, while the rain, now descending in torrents, rendered the ground and enormous roots of the trees which formed a complete network beneath our feet, as slippery as glass.