Polynesian Mythology · The Curse of Manaia (2/2)

So these latter cried aloud, as they offered thanksgivings to the gods for having granted their prayers, and for having fulfilled their wishes; but just as their ceremonies were finished the priests of the war party of Ngātoroirangi rushing out from their hiding places upon the other priests, slew them, so that the priests were first slain, as offerings to the gods. Then arose the one hundred and forty men from the ovens, and rushed upon their enemies. All were slain, not one escaped but Manaia, and he fled to the town; but they at once attacked and carried the town by assault, and then the slaughter ceased. And the first battle at the sacred place was called Ihumotomotokia, or the battle of “Bruised Noses;” and the name of the town which was taken was Whaitiri-ka-papa, but Manaia again escaped from the assault on the town. They entered the breaches in the town as easily as if they had been walking in at the door of a house left open to receive them, whence this proverb has been handed down to us, “As soon as you have defeated your enemy storm their town.” The priests now turned over the bodies of the first slain, termed the holy fish, as offerings set apart for the gods, and said suitable prayers, and when these ceremonies were ended, the conquerors cooked the bodies of their enemies and devoured the whole of them; but soon afterwards the warriors of the other towns of Manaia which had not been assaulted were approaching as a forlorn hope to attack their enemies.

In the meanwhile Ngātoroirangi and his warriors, unaware of this, had retired towards their canoe, whilst the host of warriors whom Manaia had again assembled were following upon their traces. They soon came to a stream which they had to pass, and fording that they left it behind them and gained their canoe; but by the time they were there, their pursuers had reached the stream they had just left.

Ngātoroirangi now felt thirsty, and remembered that they had no water for the crew of the canoe, so he said, “There is no water here for us;” and Rangitu, hearing the voice of his commander, answered cheerfully,

“No, there is none here, but there is plenty in the stream we have just crossed.” So they gave the great calabash of the canoe to Rangitu, and he returned towards the stream, but before he got there the host of Manaia had reached it, and had occupied its banks.

Rangitu, who did not see them, as soon as he got to the edge of the stream, dipped his calabash to fill it, and as it did not sink easily, being empty and very light, he stooped down and put his hand upon it to press it under the water; and whilst he was holding it with one hand to press it down, one of the enemy, stealing on him, made a blow at him with his weapon. Rangitu saw nothing, but merely heard the whizz of the weapon as it was sweeping down through the air upon his head, and quick as thought he jerks the calabash out of the water, and holds it as a shield in the direction in which he heard the blow coming down upon him. The weapon is parried off from one side of his head, but the calabash is shattered to pieces, and nothing but the mouth of the vessel which he was holding is left in his hand.

Then off he darts, fast as he can fly, and reaches before the enemy Ngātoroirangi and his one hundred and forty warriors. As soon as he is thus sure of support, in a moment he turns upon his foes. Ha, ha! he slays the first of the enemy, and carries off his victim. Then, lo! Tangaroa has risen up; he is soon amongst the enemy, he slays and carries off the second man. Next Tamatekapua kills and carries off his man. Thus is it with each warrior. The enemy then breaks and flies, and a great slaughter is made of the host of Manaia, yet he himself again escapes with his life. The name given to this battle was Tarai-whenua-kura.

Having thus avenged themselves of their enemies, they again returned to these islands, and settled at Maketu, and cultivated farms there. Manaia, on his part, was not idle; for shortly after they had left his place of residence he with his tribe, set to work at refitting their canoes.

Ngātoroirangi, in the meantime, occupied the island of Motiti, off Tauranga, in the Bay of Plenty. There he built a fortified village, which he named Matarehua, and a large house ornamented with carved work, which he named Taimaihi-o-Rongo; and he made a large underground store for his sweet potatoes, which he named Te Marihope; and he and his old wife generally lived nearly alone in their village on Motiti, whilst the great body of their people dwelt on the mainland at Maketu. Whilst the old couple were in this way living on Motiti, suddenly one evening Manaia, with a large fleet of canoes and a whole host of warriors, appeared off the coast of the island, and they pulled straight up to the landing place, opposite to the house of Ngātoroirangi, and lay on their paddles there, whilst Manaia hailed him, calling out, “Ho! brother-in-law, come out here if you dare, let us fight before the daylight is gone.”

Ngātoroirangi no sooner heard the voice of Manaia than he came boldly out of the house, although he was almost alone, and there he saw the whole host of Manaia lying on their paddles at the anchorage off his landing place. But he at once hailed them, shouting out, “Well done, O brother-in-law, just anchor where you are for the night; it is already getting dark, and we shall not be able to see to meet the edge of one weapon with the other; the warriors could not, therefore, parry one another’s blows; tomorrow morning we will fight as much as you like.”

Manaia no sooner heard this proposal than he assented to it, saying, “You are right, it has already grown dark.”

And Ngātoro answered him, “You had better bring-to your canoes in the anchorage outside there.” Manaia therefore told his army to anchor their canoes, and to lose no time in cooking their food on board; and the priest Ngātoroirangi remained in his fortress.

All the early part of the night Ngātoroirangi remained in the sacred place, performing enchantments and repeating incantations, and his wife was with him muttering her incantations. And having finished them, they both returned to their house, and there they continued to perform religious rites, calling to their aid the storms of heaven; whilst the hosts of Manaia did nothing but amuse themselves, singing Haka and songs, and diverting themselves thoughtlessly as war parties do. Little did they think that they were so soon to perish. No, they flattered themselves that they would destroy Ngātoroirangi, having now caught him almost alone.

So soon as the depth of night fell upon the world, whilst Ngāroto and his aged wife were still in the house, and the old woman was sitting at the window watching for what might take place, she heard the host of Manaia insulting herself and her husband by singing taunting war songs. Then the ancient priest Ngātoro, who was sitting at the upper end of the house, rises up, unloosens and throws off his garments, and repeats his incantations, and calls upon the winds, and upon the storms, and upon the thunder and lightning, that they may all arise and destroy the host of Manaia; and the god Tāwhirimātea hearkened unto the priest, and he permitted the winds to issue forth, together with hurricanes, and gales, and storms, and thunders, and lightnings; and the priest and his wife hearkened anxiously that they might hear the first bursting forth of the winds, and thunders, and lightnings, and of the rain and hail.

Then, when it was the middle space between the commencement of night and the commencement of the day, burst forth the winds, and the rain, and the lightning, and the thunder, and into the harbour poured all the mountainous waves of the sea, and there lay the host of Manaia overcome with sleep, and snoring loudly; but when the ancient priest and his wife heard the rushing of the winds and the roaring of the waves, they closed their house up securely, and lay composedly down to rest, and as they lay they could hear a confused noise and cries of terror, and a wild and tumultuous uproar from a mighty host, but before very long all the loud confusion became hushed, and nothing was to be heard but the heavy rolling of the surges upon the beach; nor did the storm itself last very long⁠—it had soon ceased.

When the next morning broke, the aged wife of Ngātoro went out of her house and looked to see what had become of the host of Manaia, and as she cast her eyes along the shore, there she saw them lying dead, cast up on the beach. The name Ngātoroirangi gave to this slaughter was Maikukutea; the name given to the storm which slew them all was Te Aputahi-a-Pawa. He gave the name of Maikukutea to the slaughter, because the fish having eaten the bodies of Manaia’s warriors, only their bones and the nails of their hands and feet, but hardly any part of their corpses, could be found.

Of the vast host of Manaia that perished, not one escaped; the body of Manaia himself they recognised by some tattoo marks upon one of his arms. Ngātoro now lighted a signal fire as a sign to his relations and warriors at Maketu that he wanted them to cross over to the island; and when his chosen band of one hundred and forty warriors saw the signal, they launched their canoe and pulled across to join their chief, and on reaching the island, they found that the host of Manaia had all perished.

Thus was avenged the curse of Mutahanga and of Manaia. However, it would have been far better if the canoe Arawa had not been burnt by Raumati; then Ngātoro and his warriors would have had two canoes to return in to Hawaiki, to revenge their wrongs, and the whole race of Manaia would have been utterly destroyed.

It would also have been far better if Ngātoro and his people had remained at Maketu, and had never gone to Moehau, then the Arawa would not have been burnt; for from the burning of that canoe by Raumati sprang the war, the events of which have now been recounted.