Grandfather’s Yarns.

Southern Cross, Volume 2, Issue 29, 13 October 1894, Page 7

Grandfather’s Yarns.

(All Eights Reserved). A LONELY COUPLE. MAORI Y. EUROPEAN BURIALS. WAIAU EPISODES. ADVENTURES IN MOKIS. No. 24.-5 “ Grandfather, what is the yarn going to he about to-night ?” questioned Dick. “ I didn’t know that I was to tell you one,” answered grandfather, “ but I suppose if I don’t I’ll get no peace all the evening. “I was thinking; to-day of an old Maori man who lived for years with his wife at the mouth of the Big River. It must have been dreadfully lonely all by themselves, but they never seemed to feel it. There they lived in a little im'roi, and caught fish and birds and eels.

“ Occasionally they received visits from other natives ; for there was a Maori settlement at the Waiau in those days, but the visits were few and far between. At last when old Mike, as he was called, got very old, the Natives came from Centre Island and made him go with, them to end his days. He was very loath to go, but in the end they persuaded him. “ One afternoon Gregory and I were going to a look-out point to look for whales, and we saw old Mike digging his wife’s grave in the sand. She had died the previous night, and there the poor old man had her lashed up in her mat ready for burial, and was patiently scraping away with a pava shell to get the grave deep enough. I offered to help him, but he refused, preferring to do everything for her himself. In those days the Maories used to bury their dead in a sitting posture, though they gave it up when they saw the white people’s method. “That was the first and last time I ever saw a person buried like that. Gregory and I could do nothing else, so we stood by with bared heads till old Mike had finished his sorrowful task. He seemed much gratified by our attentions and came away quietly with us when it was all over.

There were a good many Maories living about the Waiau then, five or six miles from the mouth. One afternoon three Maori women were trying to cross in a mohi ; but the current was very strong, and they were carried on and on past one landing place and* another, trying in vain to steer to the opposite bank, “At last they were carried right out to sea, but they just drifted about not very far from shore, tossing about in the surf. There was no wind to carry them out, and for three days and three nights these three helpless women tossed about within sight of their homes and their people, for all the Maories watched on the shore day and night. But they could do nothing, They had not even a canoe, and it is never verj smooth on that beach either, and it took little enough to smash a canoe at any time. “At last a wind set in from the west’ard, and the mohi was driven ashore ; but only one woman was on her. The others, overcome by hunger and exposure, had either dropped off or been washed off. JThe woman who survived was very weak and ill for a long time. “Grandfather, whatever is a mohi” asked Jack. “ A mohi is a raft, made of bundles of holadi, my boy, made while the holadi is very dry. The Natives used to use them on all the rivers to bring down their birds and eels and flax. I have seen them, when they were first made, carry as much as a ton.

“It was grand fun coming down the Waiau on one. How it used to .spin ! The' only danger was in bumping against the bank or running against a snag. The current is so strong and swift that I was always glad to have someone else steer. But it was splendid fun and the spice of danger made it all the better. Of course a moki can only drift, or be poled in shallow water —there was no way of rowing.

“ Once we were whaling at Mataura when one day we saw a whale ashore on the other side of the river. The boats were away and I didn’t know how to get across. Some of the Maories said they knew where there was a moki. a little way up the river, so 1 asked them to go for it. Off they went and presently returned with the moki. It was a very old one and quite water-sodden, but we got across in it all right—thirteen of us altogether, counting one boy. “We cut the bone out of the whale’s head and dragged it up above highwater mark. After we’d finished we attempted to re-cross the river, but this was not so easily done. “In a little while the water came over the moki and kept rising higher and higher; if they had only sat still I believe we’d have got across all right. But no, they wouldn’t—they all jumped to their feet, and that sent the moki further under. “ She was sinking fast, and only three of us could swim, so I said to the other two who could swim—‘Let’s swum ashore and get flax to tow the others ashoreand, turning to the others, I said— ‘ IsTow, you keep perfectly still —it’s your only chance.’ “ And they obeyed like Britons, too —not one lost his head, not even the boy—not a move out of any of them. We got the flax as quickly as possible and returned to the sinking moki. "We had some little difficulty in fastening it on under water, but we managed it, and then swam ashore and towed them all in safely with the knotted flax. I did feel relieved when I saw them all safely ashore. “ That will have to do for to-night, boys, but I’ll tell you another yarn tomorrow.”