THE MAORI
THE COMING OF THE RACE
The voice of lamentation and the noise of weeping were heard in Hawaiki;[1] for men's hands were lifted up to slay their own kin: so that father slew son, and son smote father, and brother strove against brother, until nowhere in all that pleasant land was there peace. Wherefore, little children hid themselves for fear; and women, having cut their cheeks with sharks' teeth, and gashed their bosoms with sharp shells and pieces of tuhua[2], raised the tangi[3] for the warriors who every day passed through the portals which give upon the Waters of Reinga.[4]
But Ngahue, being a great chief, might not weep; so he sat apart in his whare,[5] neither eating nor drinking, while he prayed to the gods and to his ancestors that they would make a way of escape from the threatening doom. For Ngahue was sore stricken, having been worsted in the fight, and well he knew that for the conquered was no mercy. Wherefore, he sat with bowed head and covered face, and prayed for light.
And light came; for the gods had pity upon Ngahue, who was ever their faithful servant.
So Ngahue arose in the black darkness, bidding his wife be of good cheer and patiently await his return, and with noiseless tread stole forth from his whare.
Softly called Ngahue unto him his best-beloved friend, Te Turi, the Stubborn One, and Te Turi's friends, Te Weri, the Centipede, and Te Waerau, the Crab,[6] together with certain warriors, proved in many a fight. He compelled also to his side a sufficiency of tutua[7] and, being come to the beach, launched a great canoe. Then, having commended themselves to the gods, they sailed whithersoever Atua[8] chose to lead them.