VISIT TO NEW ZEALAND

Hokitika Guardian, 18 September 1926, Page 4

VISIT TO NEW ZEALAND

TUTANEKAI AND HI NEMO A

(By Ethel Turner in the Sydney "Herald.”)

In Australian legends one looks quite in vain for any “wisp” of romance. Romeo and Juliet are far away. But the Maoris have caught at many a tender asd beautiful tale of love and tragedy, and kept it afloat in the air for centuries by reason of the poetic and imaginative temperament with which tliev have been endowed.

“I believe the story has for parallel the one of Romeo and .Juliet-, hasn't it?” I said, making the remark now quite confident of being understood. But the Maori guide shook her head regretfully. *

“I haven't read Shakespeare.” she said, “f have seven children, please. But .my second hoy, the one I told you is working on the roads now. used to bring it ihome from the school library in little books.” “And so Hinemoa and Tutauekai really lived about here?” I suggested. Sho laughed good temperedly. “ Sit down.” she said, and again wo sat down on a log of wood, “Over there,” she waved at the little isle of Mukoia out in the middle jef the grey blue waters, “lived a young chief oh, a fine, handsome young chief Tutauekai was. Over there.” 3he waved at one of the grey beaches of Rotorhua, “lived Hinemoa, the most beautiful of maidens. And they loved one another as always will love beautiful young maidens and the handsome young ehijefs. But no, Hinomoa’s father wns a greater chief by far than Tutauekai, and would not have them

wed. Dh Hie sadness—wh the running tears; neVer' must they meet, this was the stern command. Tutanekai would sit high on the rocks of his island, and breathe into his flute all his love and hislonging. And Hinemoa on her ./shore- would lift her face and listen as the sad notes came to her across tho water— Horahia to marino, Horahia i Rotorua. (that means, if you do not know M/mri, “Spread out below lies Rotorua Lakes.”) At last, no longer can she hear it. At last she runs to the water’s edge, plunges into the icy waters and swims and swims and swims. It is dark, hut sho has for guide the note of the (lute. It, is a long way—look, you can see for yourself, Imt she has her love to revive her. She i.s nt- the island, she stumbles ashore. Ah; she sees a warm spring bubbling up, i warm pool all ready to refresh her. She steps into it. But ; how can she let Tutauekai know she is there? One of his slaves comes down to the pool to fill a calabash with the warm Water. She asks for tho calabash, saying she needs adrink, then drops it and breaks it on the rock. Tho slave climbs hack to his chief for another calabash; again Hinemoa. asks Ihr a drink and again breaks it ou a rock. A third time asd even

a fourth Hie same, tiling Happens, and then comes Tutauekai striding wratlifully ykiwii from the top of the island to find out for himself who is the wretch who is breaking ali his calabashes. Darkness is on the warm. silkv watcr.s. Hinemoa is hiding now behind a reek. Tutauekai gropes about, touches a wet, little hand—if is her hand. Oh joy, oil happiness, here is Hinemoa. lie- flings over her his chief’s cloak, he climbs with her. her had in his hand, up, up to his home—she becomes his wife.” Yes, yes—the same old story. "I have led her homo my love, my only friend There is none like her, none.

And never yet so warmly ran my blood. And sweetly, on and on. There is none like her, none. - ’ A delicate and truly poetic talc; ail the poets' of New Zealand sing it. altering the tune and time a little here and there, but I liked hearing it from my Maori friend as wo sat together looking over the lake where Mokr.ia’s shadow was beginning to grow more Lin'd still more black. We walked hack to the meeting house together, without, further delay, for the air came stealing lrom the la!:: chillier with every minute. It positively upset me to see all those sensoloss Maoris otill quailing on I Lit cheerless, cement floor of the verandah, old no.. ,iald, old women, indolent girls,-barely-clad tiny children. For A men as intelligent as these, it surprised mo to see such a lack ol commonsen.se. “llow cold they must be,” I said, and pulled my fur collar up. “’I hat baby and your old aunt—aren't you afraid they will catch cold.” “Ha, ha.” toughed my guide, "Fla. ha, ha. Of course, under that floor is a hot pool.”