Moon-shadows—sunny silences—
Lone mists on fire in glens profound—
Old half-lit trunks of twisted trees
And stealthy gleams in gloomy woods.”
Chapter II.
THE PORT HILLS AND THEIR NAMES.
It is the Port Hills’ nomenclature, perhaps, that carries the most poetic suggestions of any of the Canterbury place-names, and here, perhaps, the dwellers on the heights in the days to come when all these Plain-ward-looking slopes are dotted with pretty homes, will seek inspiration in such legendry and history of the soil as we of the present generation have preserved. There are names of dignity and beauty clustered about those old lava-built crags and ruined towers and tors past which the Summit Road goes a thousand feet above the city.
Finest of all is the Maori name of Castle Rock, that from one point in the Heathcote Valley looks like a colossal howitzer threatening the Plains. To the old Maoris it was Te Tihi o Kahukura, “The Citadel of Kahukura,” otherwise “The Pinnacle of the Rainbow.” The explanation brings in a reference to the religion of the tattooed pagan pioneers who explored those hills and plains, and planted their palisaded hamlets by creek-side and in the sheltered folds of the ranges. Kahukura—Uenuku in the North Island—was the principal deity for what may be termed everyday use among the ancient Ngai-Tahu. He was the spirit guardian most frequently invoked by the tohungas , and he was appealed to for auguries and omens in time of war. Each hapu had its image of Kahukura, a small carved wooden figure, which was kept in some tapu place remote from the dwellings, often a secluded flax clump, or on a high, stilt-legged platform or whata. The celestial form of Kahukura was the rainbow; literally the name means “Red Garment.” Omens were drawn in days of war from the situation of the arch of the “Red Garment” when it spanned the heavens. The name is sometimes applied to that phenomenon of days of mist in the mountains, the “sun-dog,” from which auguries were drawn. So when the Natives gave the term to the Castle Rock they were conferring upon it a name of high tapu befitting its bold and commanding appearance.
And this is not the only Hills name that holds a memory of the cult of the Rainbow-God. On the tussocky slope where the track goes over from the St. Martins tram terminus to the Summit Road above Rapaki, joining the hill track near Witch Hill, the tohungas kept in a sacred place one of the wooden figures representing Kahukura, for karakia , consultation in time of need, and the spot became known as “Te Irika o Kahukura,” or “The Uplifting of the Rainbow God.” In time the name was applied to the Cashmere Hills generally. And the lofty Sugarloaf peak immediately to the north of Dyer’s Pass, was Te Heru o Kahukura, which being interpreted, is “Kahukura’s Head-Comb.” So the olden folk occasionally displayed a fine taste in names; and although some of those names may be a trifle long for pakeha use it would be well to save them from oblivion.
Otokitoki—“The Place of Axes”—is the name of Godley Head, the lofty cliff upon which the lighthouse stands; its early-days pakeha name was Cachalot Head. Working south from the lighthouse we presently come to the deep bay of Te Awa-parahi, where a little farmstead stands in its well-hidden nest, between the lowering peaks. Nearer Lyttelton, just where the Zigzag Road goes over Evans Pass to Sumner, are the precipitous