A Tale of Maori Manners.

The old-time Maori was composite of many qualities. His savagery ran side by side with chivalry and a wide culture in all manner of wisdom. Here is a characteristic story which I place on record as an example of the innate politeness of the chieftains of other days. Tamarahi and I were sailing down Rotoiti Lake on a summer cruise of long ago, and we passed close to the cliffy hill-top of Motutawa, a tribal cemetery, once a populous pa. There on that commanding flat summit of the island-like headland there lived, two centuries ago, the chief Te Rangipuawhe, and of him Tamarahi, who was an Arawa well versed in his clan history, told this anecdote.

Te Rangipuawhe was the old warrior chief of the Tuhourangi tribe, whose present headquarters is Whakarewarewa, the hot-spring village. In his day they lived on Motutawa; it was their last stronghold, after being expelled from all their other pas on Rotoiti by the NgatiPikiao. The Tuhourangi made a last raid on their conquering foes, and killed a grandson of the chief Te Takinga, the leader of Ngati-Pikiao. His body they took back with them to Motutawa, where it was cooked for the delectation of the principal chiefs.

At this juncture old Te Takinga decided to visit his foeman and make peace. He and his men climbed to the palisaded village on the level brow of the castle hill. Here they found old Rangipuawhe seated in front of his house enjoying his morning meal. Before him was a flax basket of human flesh—his visitor's grandchild.

As Te Takinga was on a ceremonial friendly visit, the position was exceedingly delicate. Though each chief hated the other with a deadly hatred, neither desired to give needless offence to the other, and then both were heartily tired of the almost continual state of war that had existed for some years.

Te Rangipuawhe's embarrassment at being discovered feasting on the flesh of his visitor's grandchild was observed by Te Takinga, who, with the consideration of the true Maori rangatira, made a courteous gesture and said: “E Rangi! Do not cease eating.” For as Tamarahi explained, the flesh which the Tuhourangi chief was eating was not “murdered food” but man slain in fair fight.

Old Te Rangipuawhe's heart was much relieved, and in his gratitude for Te Takinga's words he said: “Friend, I cannot undo what has been done. I have eaten your grandchild. But I shall make recompense. I shall leave this place to you; I and my tribe will abandon Motutawa to you. We will leave Rotoiti's shores for ever. Farewell, my fighting friend!”

And that was how the Tuhourangi came to evacuate their great fort on beautiful Rotoiti. They cried their farewells; they migrated to Rotorua, and then to the shore of Lake Tarawera; and the Tarawera eruption in 1886 caused them in turn to desert their devastated homes there, and they shifted to Whakarewarewa. And the principal man among them to-day is a direct descendant and a namesake of good old Rangipuawhe, the polite cannibal of Motutawa.