On the evening of the third day we saw a high range of snow-capped mountains far away on our left, and questioned Tiki about them.
“That is the Great Tapu Land,” he said, lowering his voice.
After a conversation over the camp fire in our own tongue, we decided that the time had come to change our course. Accordingly, in the morning we informed the Maori that the curiosity of the white man was great: we wished to see this forbidden country. He looked scared at this; but, when we told him he must accompany us, his legs trembled under him, and I verily believe that if they had been any use to him at the moment, he would have fled for his life.
“Taniwha lives there,” he said, “it is tapu. The Maori must not go there; it is the place of evil spirits.”
“Why is it tapu?” I asked.
He shook his head. “When the ariki make a place tapu it is because it is dangerous to go there.”
I was determined to see how much he knew, so I continued to question him.
“How long has it been tapu?” I asked.
“From the times of Wiwa and Wawa, when men had wings,” he replied. “Do not venture on it, O Pakehas. The ariki who have been there to appease the evil spirits have come back and told us of the terrible monsters that inhabit the land, and of the evil spirits that are on the watch for anyone who sets foot there.”
“What kind of spirits are they?”