[115] So far as is known, this was the first occasion on which the principle of the sap was applied in Maori warfare.
[116] An interesting parallel to these proceedings is to be found in Gibbon's description of the siege of Constantinople: "To fill the ditch was the toil of the besiegers; to clear away the rubbish was the safety of the besieged; and, after a long and bloody conflict, the web which had been woven in the day was still unravelled in the night."
[117] It is a popular belief in some quarters that the reason why the defenders so lost heart was that they were oppressed by the guilty knowledge that they had acted treacherously in killing Te Pehi and his companions.
[118] Popularly known as "Maori-heads" or "Nigger-heads." Flax and raupo also grew freely in the swamps.
[119] This was rendered more difficult owing to the fact that for many days Te Rauparaha's followers were scouring the country, far and wide, in search of fugitives. The Rev. Canon Stack mentions the pathetic instance of two young children who were in hiding with their father. He left them to go in search of food, promising to return; but he never did so, having in all probability been captured and killed. The children, who afterwards lived to be well-known Canterbury residents, sustained themselves by eating raupo roots for several months, until they were found by an eeling party in the bed of the Selwyn River.
[120] Te Auta is described as a man of grave and venerable appearance, who was a strict disciplinarian in all matters pertaining to the religious ceremonies of the pa, his authority in these respects being considerably enhanced by his long white hair and flowing beard. He was one of the last of the Ngai-Tahu tohungas, who were deeply versed in all the peculiar rites of Maori heathendom.
[121] Kahukura was the patron divinity of the Ngai-Tahu tribe. His cultus was introduced by the crew of the Takitimu canoe, who were the ancestors of the Kaiapohians (Stack).
[122] Amongst the prisoners taken was a boy named Pura, who excited the interest of Te Rauparaha. The chief took him under his personal protection, and on the night that Kaiapoi fell, he led him into his own whare. In order to prevent any possibility of escape, Rauparaha tied a rope round the boy's body and attached the other end to his own wrist. During the early hours of the night the chief was exceedingly restless, but after he fell asleep Pura quietly disengaged himself from the rope, and tied the end of it to a peg which he found driven into the floor of the whare. He then crept stealthily to the door, but in passing out he had the misfortune to overturn a pile of manuka which was piled up outside. Luckily, the brushwood fell on top of him, completely covering him, but the noise aroused Te Rauparaha, who, as soon as he perceived that his captive had flown, raised the alarm, and in an incredibly short time the whole camp was in a state of uproar and panic. The warriors, suddenly aroused from their sleep, were in a condition of extreme nervous tension after the excitement and exertion of the day. Some imagined that the prisoners had risen in revolt, while others believed that the fugitives had returned in force to attack the camp, and it was some time before order could be restored and the true position explained. Meanwhile, Pura lay panting with fear and trembling lest he should be found, for recapture meant certain death. His hiding, however, was not discovered, and when the camp had once more settled down to sleep, he quietly pushed the brushwood aside, and, threading his way out into the swamp, made good his escape to the south, where he afterwards joined the main body of the fugitives. Pura subsequently became a well-known resident of Lyttelton, under the name of Pitama.
[123] "Some conception may be formed of the numbers slain and eaten when I mention that some time after the settlement of Canterbury the Rev. Mr. Raven, incumbent of Woodend, near the site of the pa in question, collected many cartloads of their bones, and buried them in a mound on the side of the main road from the present town of Kaiapoi to the north. Ghastly relics of these feasts still strew the ground, from which I myself have gathered many" (Travers).
[124] "The summit of Onawe was called Te-pa-nui-o-Hau. There, amongst the huge boulders and rocks that crown the hill and cover its steep sloping sides, dwelt the Spirit of the Wind, and tradition tells how jealously it guarded its sacred haunts from careless intrusion" (Tales of Banks's Peninsula).