The Anti-Makutu Rite.

The sun had not yet risen when a little procession moved from Rupe's manuka-fenced courtyard and passed down the hill to the small stream that flowed around the outskirts of the kainga. The turoro was carried upon a bush stretcher by Rupe and his white man Kimble Bent. The tohunga walked in front; his lips moved in a muttered incantation. Behind the turoro's litter walked Rupe's mother and her children. At such a scene as this only the immediate relatives of the sick one could be present. Bent was regarded as one of the family.

At the bank of the little brook, slipping down through the fern and shrubs, Hupini bade the bearers set the sufferer down. Then, watched in painful intense silence by the little group, Hupini plucked from the centre of a clump of toctoe, or swamp-grass, three long shoots (rito).

With these toetoe shoots in his left hand, Hupini held them up in view of the watchers. Then he took one of them in his right hand, and raising it in the air, he said: “Tenei mo te iwi”–(“This is for the tribe”), and stuck it upright in the ground, close by the margin of the stream. Taking the second rito, he cried, “Tenei mo te turoro” —(“This is for the sick one”), and set it in the soft ground. Holding up the third toetoe stalk the priest, addressing Rupe, said, “This is for the evil man who has wrought evil on your child.” This also he set in the ground. Then he said to Rupe: “The man who has bewitched your son is a close relative of yours. What shall I do with him?”

The father replied: “Tukua kia mate!”–(“Let him die!”)

The three toctoe stalks, spoken of as toko or pou (staff, pillar), stood in a row by the stream-edge. A curious thing now happened. Just as the father had replied, “Let him die!” Kimble Bent's dog, which had followed the party down from the village, ran forward and pulled the third toko—the enemy tohunga's toko—out of the ground, and let it drop a few feet away. The priest did not interfere. He watched the dog, and said to Bent, “He atua to kuri! He atua ki a kpe! Kia pai te atawhai i te tangata!” (Your dog is a god! You, too, have a god! Be kind and harm not men!”) He probably thought that the white man had some knowledge of makutu, and therefore warned him to be careful.

Now the priest began his incantations. In quick rhythmic tones he uttered these words (translated):

“This is the staff for the Night
The great Night, the long Night,
The Night of deep darkness,
The Night sought for,
The Night become visible.”

This opening karakia was in effect an appeal to the gods to reveal the cause of the makutu. The Po, or Night, personified the powers of evil. (A Maori “Lighten our darkness, we beseech Thee, O Lord.”)

Then the priest placed his hands on the two tokos which remained upright and recited a short prayer, which I translate from Bent's recital. The purport of this karakia was; “Release the evil spirit from this sufferer, O Spirits of the Earth. Release this evil spirit, O Spirits of the Sky! Let the evil fly from him, let it be cast from him, from the body of this sacred one, of this chief!”

This invocation ended, the priest picked up the tokos representing the invalid and the tribe from the ground, and going to a small tree which stood on the stream side he carefully laid them in a fork of the branches. They were now tapu, and must not be allowed to lie about where anyone might unwittingly touch them. The toko pulled out of the ground by the pakeha-Maori's dog was allowed to lie where it was.