them and ate them all up that same night, and so, having fully satiated his appetite, he went to his house to sleep. In the morning the man to whom belonged the taro plantation went thither, and lo! he saw what had been done by a thief, so he said to his friend, “My good fellow, our taro is being stolen by some thief and will soon be all consumed, I must go to-night and keep watch.” So when it was evening he went thither, and sat down concealed. It was not very long after when the same thief returned, and was busy uprooting the taro; on this the man in ambush let fly his spear, which struck the thief in his side breast; he feeling the pain from the wound ran off and escaped to his own house. On reaching it he bound his girdle tightly around the wound and lay down to sleep, the pain being excessive and the blood though confined flowing inwardly. By-and-by the man who had thrown the spear went to the house of the wounded man. Arriving there he found the fire had gone out, so he called out, “Oh dear! kindle the fire, make it to blaze, that it may be light.” So the fire was kindled and it soon burnt well; and Hotungakau was awaked out of his sleep and sat up. Then the man who had thrown the spear related his story, ending with saying to Hotungakau, “It seems to me that thou art the very man who was wounded by me with my spear?” On which Hotungakau replied, “It was not me, for here have I been sleeping ever since the setting-in of the evening.” (Although at this very time he was suffering dreadful internal pain.) The spear-thrower rejoined, “The appearance of that man was exactly similar to thine.” Hotungakau retorted, “I tell thee it was not me: thou art indeed beginning an evil altercation with me.” On hearing this the visitor returned to his own place; but Hotungakau died just at daylight. His sudden and violent and shameful death was greatly lamented by the people of the village. His father, Rongomaikohina, being completely overwhelmed with shame at the doings of his son, came quietly, and wrapping the body in a garment, put it into his canoe and paddled off. Before, however, he went away, he laid a heavy and deadly spell upon the place. He paddled far away, even unto Waikawa, here he was pursued overland by some of the people he had left behind, because so many had died through his powerful spell, by which also the death of his son was fully avenged. At last a herald came to him, to Rongomaikohina, saying, “There are scarcely any people left alive owing to thy deadly spell, whatever shall we do that the remainder may be spared?” To which Rongomaikohina replied, “Kindle ceremonially a fresh fire by friction with the rubbing-sticks, letting a woman tread on the lowermost stick (to keep it steady), through that the power of my man-destroying spell shall be dissolved.” Rongomaikohina never afterwards returned to his former place of residence.