COUNTRY NEWS.

King Country Chronicle, Volume V, Issue 353, 19 April 1911, Page 6

COUNTRY NEWS.

Own Correspondents. Waikaka. A number of land buyers have been through this district lately, and quite a number of properties have changed hands. Two of the purchasers hail from the West Coast of the South Island. Messrs Seceombe Bros., are having GOO acres of bush felled this winter, and are also having an up-tn-date woolshed erected. Owing to the continued dry spell, a number of settlers will have to sow their bums over again. All the land seekers who have, visited these parts | seem greatly impressed with | the way the district has stood the long spell of dry weather, as outside the King Country not a vestige of grass is to he seen, while here everything looks fresh and green, with no burnt-up pastures like other parts of the Dominion they have passed through. The road votes for this year are disgracefully paltry, out of the miserable dole for the Mairoa-huiao-Matiere road not a shilling is to he spent on this end. From the Mangakahakatea stream, this particular part of the Miroahuiao-Matiere road is little better than a pig track in winter, and notwithstanding the fact that a large number of settlers have to drive stock along this socalled road at great risk, the Government cannot find a shilling to better the struggling settler's lot in the way of converting an apology for a pig track into a decent six-foot track.

Kiritehere-Moeatoa.

The merging bugbear, which infests Marakopa and its surrounding districts, is about to undergo its periodical change, rising as is its custom, once a year, Phoenix-like, from the ashes of its pyre. The bird is peculiar to Marakopa. and its river, where it is known as the "merging agitator" (mergo agitatum is its scientific name), meaning to plunge, from its love of deep water. Little is known of it 3 general habits, except those observed per telescope at a distance. It is followed about by two or three little birds, known as silver-necks, which warn it of danger. It is supposed to have been incubated at Kawhia, and it flew or was blown over into Marakopa in the night. The trouble—that of taking the whole district with it into Kawhia—has made it unpopular with nonmergers, who find that common sense and ink, printers or plain, is the best weapon to fight the agitator with. When the County of Awakino becomes operative, which it soon will do, steps will be taken to exterminate the merging agitator or drive it across the river into Kawhia. Mr F. Tempieman had the roof blown off his whare during the heavy gales last week. Settlers are becoming tired of Government promises, and pumped up road grants, which are intended only for show. Word had been received that the work of putting up the Marakopa-Te Kuiti telephone line will be commenced before the winter. Which winter, we ask? This winter is understood, but the winter after next might be meant. On the burns which are being sowed, tiny tubes of clay, rising above the surface of the ground an inch or two, and running into it four to six inches, may be observed. They are the pupae home of the common cicada. The Natives are congregating at Marakopa at the burial ground across the river from Marakopa, to gather up the bones of their dead. It is a time of feasting. Pork, potatoes, kumaras, beef, mutton, fish, maize and other viands are being cooked in native ovens. The smell is "wonderful," and rolls over into the historic little township of Marakopa in solid banks. Marakopa itself is built on an [old burial ground—judging by the implements dug up. A Native digging a hole to bury old tins suddenly unearthed a skull. He uttered a yell, but the sight did not scare him for long. He shovelled the sand back, and threw the tins into the river. The custom of throwing tins into the river has been followed ever since. At the back of Mr Stanley's store, Marakopa, the seekers after bones and greenstone dug a trench in the sand about forty feet long, and the Tohunga came to the conclusion that the spirits had taken the remains away. The bones are interred, as they are dug, in batches of twenty or more, in the little Native cemetery across the Marakopa river on the Kawhia side. The heads of the departed ones are laid out on the grass in front of the meeting house, and the living and the dead (ihe dry bones I mean) again enjoy each other' 3 company. If the dead could regain life they would see the same sights of feasting and wailing that their forefathers had seen. Verily I say unto ye, consider well these customs. It may be the last time you will see them, the last cycle of a human drama —the old and the new Maori met together to join in an ancient rite, the oldest of all rites, older than Pyramids or the Botree of Buddha —tlv wailing over the dead. The heads of the d<*ad were washed in the river, arid wrapped in white calico. Many valuable pieces of greenstone were picked up with the bones, buried generations ago perhaps.