The daughter of the dawn

by William Reginald Hodder

“Sons of Kiwa, hear the sacred story of the woman of the ancient city, and listen well, that my words do not pass by like the empty wind, for, in revealing this for the good of my race and yours, I give myself over to the Woman of Death and Darkness—such is the law by which I, a sometime priest of the mountain temple, will abide. In the times of which the rocks of that temple alone keep a record, the bright goddess Hia, or, as we call her, Hinauri, the Daughter of the Dawn, came down from the skies to restore the divine magic which the Vile Tohungas had almost driven from the world. She became queen of the city on the plain, and tried to rule the people by the love-magic she brought with her. But she failed: the people were being led down to death by the vile brethren of Huo, or, as we know her, Hine-nui-te-Po, the Daughter of the Darkness. They would not look upon the dazzling beauty of Hia’s face, nor would they hear her words. E tama! none can sin against the Great Spider and live. Lo! Mariki, the Woman of Pestilence, slid down a silky thread of the vast web and breathed death on the city. Tu-of-the-Whirlwind came also and smote the great land.

“But the Tohungas of the Brow of Ruatapu had been taught in dreams when the great fire of Io throbbed through them and lighted their heads. They foresaw the destruction of the city, and took the Queen Hinauri to a white cave in the forehead of the mountain, where she showed them the last strange wonder of her magic. Standing on the floor of the cave, with her giant priests around her, she gazed through the opening towards the western sky above the hills. A ray of golden light pierced the air and shone into the place. It fell upon her face and form. It lingered in her eyes and on her dark flowing hair. The priests fell back dazzled by her glory. Then she raised her arms towards the western sky and spoke strange words: ‘Lo! in the distance it is shown to me—the land of my people as it will be in the far future. I see them living in happiness, ruled by my love-magic. Ages will pass away before that time will be, but behold, I will leave my body here waiting and watching for that future when my people shall come back; and, at the dawn of that bright age, I too will return as a sign to the world. And you, my priests, will watch my sacred body till that day. Then, when I return, Huo, the false image of myself, which will be fashioned in this temple below, shall be hurled down upon the heads of the Vile Tohungas, her worshippers.’

“She ceased, and the golden ray seemed to be fading from her, while she stood as if listening to some mellow music from the sunlit slopes of the far-off future land of peace and love. A light leapt into her eyes, and a smile broke over her face. Lo! even while she stood there leaning forward, with her arms outstretched as if to some lovely vision of the dawn, the sun ray faded quite away, and left her spellbound, immovable—a radiant statue of expectancy.

“Then, as the Tohungas chanted their mystic song they saw that her spirit had fled, leaving her body standing like stone. Like stone, I said, O Kahikatea; but her spirit had not taken away the smile from her lips nor the joy from her eyes. The lovelight would still dwell there, and her arms would still remain outstretched in longing until the ages should have rolled by—in constant yearning until some distant day should bring her people back to repeat their history with a happier close. O Pakehas, it was a thing to see: Hinauri the Radiant One, who rivals the dawn in her beauty, stood there waiting, waiting, waiting till the far future of the world should come with Ihi Ihi, the sun ray, to call her back to life.

“O Sons of the Shining Sea, hear how my tale runs on. Summer and winter came and went for hundreds of years, while in the cave high up in the silence of the mountains stood for ever the Daughter of the Dawn, holding out her arms to the unborn future of the South. Far below upon the plain lay the City of the Southern Cross, deserted, silent, and crumbling to ruin. A pestilence had fallen upon the land, slaying the people as one man, and now through the silent streets wandered the dragons of the desert. By night the moonlight glinted upon the palaces and domes, showing here gigantic columns, and there a patch of open square, while sometimes from the shadowy streets arose a ghostly murmur, as of a phantom race that is dead and gone, whose spirits linger by night around the desolation of their former homes. But the Bright One’s gaze was fixed, not upon the city below, but on the limits of future time.

“How can I show you the wonder of Hinauri’s waiting for the dawn? O Pakehas, on calm moonlight nights the children of the misty moonbeam looked in at the opening of the cave and wondered to see her standing there, a figure of beauty, all shining with moisture, in the clear, pale ray. The drops that drip so slowly in limestone caves had begun to deposit their treasures upon her form. Her robes shone with a thousand crystalline gems. Her hair rippled down like wavy stalactites laden with sparkling clusters of precious stones. They had gathered like the dust of diamonds upon her arms, and neck, and brow, while from the roof of the cave the ever-dripping, crystal-laden water had tried to place a crown upon her stately head.

“O men of a later day, how can I picture to you the wonder of Hinauri in that high solitude? The spirits of the wind would pause in their wanderings round the mountain sides to look in at the silent inhabitant of the cave. Then they would sigh along upon their way down the ridges to whisper among the shadows of the deserted city. And on dark nights, when the anger of Tawhirimatea smote the feet of Tane-holding-up-the-Sky, that storm-god loved to linger at the opening of the cave and watch her mysterious beauty, as Taki’s lightning lit the place; and, while he watched, his fierce heart would melt, and his wild breath soften into sighs of love.

“On and on sped the years. Ages rolled over this land, and the City of the Southern Cross crumbled to dust. Other ages came and went, and the sea lapped about the crags beneath the opening of the cave and rolled its huge billows over the buried city. And lo! as the moons, gliding by on the floor of the crystal heaven, chased each other for ever across the sky, the sea sank back, and there, where once had surged the hurrying throng of a mighty people, stood the gigantic moa in the dense fern, and on the rocks crept the three-eyed lizards of old time. But in the mountain cave the ancient spell had endured. Hear the tale of the Great Tohungas, who watched one by one in the temple. Slowly, through the ages, the limestone covered the form of the goddess, but not to hide her from the eyes of the matakite. The expectant look upon her face had deepened, and her whole body seemed ready to spring to life at a word. To the eyes of the seer her face shone glorious from within a crystal stone, but some who saw less clearly passed down the word that her features were chased as if with the dust of stars, through which the pink in her cheeks and lips showed like rata through a glistening mist. But to me, when my father took me to the cave, there was naught but a large block of pure white marble, roughly hewn, such as the mighty fingers of the ages fashion from the limestone. Yet I could see, though my sight was dim, that within the dull, hard stone stood the wondrous form of Hinauri, waiting to be released from her age-long prison. My father said that the time was near when Hinauri should return, and the Great Tohungas had told him in dreams that it was by the ‘magic of a woman’ that her spirit should come back into her body. He then instructed me in the ways and duties of the temple, showing me many things which I cannot speak of now.

“But I said my words to you were also of the accursed stone. When the spirit of the Bright One had fled, the Good Tohungas withdrew into the sky, leaving one of their number to protect the sacred stone. Even the name of this mighty one has come down to us as surely as his blood runs in my veins. ‘Zun^[10] the Terrible’ he was called, and it was he who concealed once and for ever the secret of the sacred stone. The Vile Tohungas of the Pit were searching for Hinauri to destroy her, but Zun tricked them. He cast himself down into the foundations of the temple and dwelt among them to learn their vile magic. Then, when he had mastered their secrets, he fashioned a false image of Hinauri as a great spar, and bound it down to the rock with a round stone. The Vile Tohungas, believing that this spar, stranded on the shores of Time, contained the sacredness of Hinauri, cursed it for ever, so that woman should never rise to the skies, but remain bound down to do their will. Zun the Terrible then drew a phantom spirit from the spar and delivered it over to them, saying it was Hinauri, the Daughter of the Dawn. The Vile Ones took it and bound it to the moon-face, where for all time they have paid it a sneering worship of disdain. Thus did Zun the Terrible give them the false for the true, and tricked them with their own magic. Then he turned his back upon these Vile Ones and set himself to climb up out of the darkness into which he had fallen. But, O my sons! the Vile Ones still live upon the earth. The giant sorcerers of old stand for ever on the floor of the mighty abyss in the temple, waiting the day when they shall return. Their red fire was removed by one of their slaves, whom Zun drove from the temple into the north, and we say it is burning even now, though we know not where.

“So the sacred stone in the white cave has been preserved to this day, and to this day the magic of the sun ray may be seen. It is true it now strikes into the cave at certain times of the year through a crevice in some outstanding crags, but, O children of a later sun, it is a ray of the same light that shone there ages since, and bore Hinauri’s spirit away. E tama! there is a prophecy that one day, when this ray of Ihi Ihi is upon the sacred stone, her ancient spirit will return upon it, and she will live. Already is the stone that bound her broken away; already she stands free, as she stood long, long ago, with her arms outstretched to the future, and the dawn of a new age upon her radiant face. This, O Kahikatea, is the truth which lies behind your dream. This, O Pakehas, was the legend given me by my father, who had received it from his father in like fashion as it had been told by father to son from the beginning of the world.