A Fiery Chief

Mokena Kohere, as the handy chief he was, was in the habit of placing his crayfish pots off the Whakori Bluff, south of East Cape, overnight, and of lifting them in the morning. Before sunrise he put out in his little canoe, and had also loaded his gun in case a sea bird would come along which would supply bait for his pots.

It happened that a larger canoe with several people on board had come from East Cape and had lifted and emptied Mokena's crayfish pots. Perhaps the poachers had not expected that the chief himself would come to lift his pots. However, there he was paddling towards them. It was an awkward moment, for it was well known that Mokena resented tampering with his crayfish pots and eel baskets, although he might give away half his kingdom to anyone who asked him honestly.

When the canoes approached each other the guilty crew called out to Mokena that they had emptied his crayfish pots and had the crayfish in the canoe. The chief pretended not to have heard them. They cried out again: “Eh, Mokena, we have your crayfish.” Without warning the chief lifted his loaded gun and cried out, “Your own crayfish, not mine,” and fired.

The men had anticipated what would happen and in time lay in the bottom of the canoe, at the same time tilting it so that the charge of shot spattered on the side of the canoe. All at once the “firebrand” recovered himself sufficiently to laugh.

A woman died a few years ago who was given the name page 46 Rati, or Lance, because Mokena Kohere in a terrible fury had sworn that if he had the opportunity he would have driven a lance through another chief's belly because he had needlessly annoyed him.