Polynesian Mythology · The Story of Marutūāhu, the Son of Hotunui, and of Kahureremoa, the Daughter of Paka (1/3)

The Story of Marutūāhu, the Son of Hotunui, and of Kahureremoa, the Daughter of Paka

Hotunui was one of those chiefs who arrived in New Zealand from a land beyond the ocean. The Tainui was the canoe in which he arrived in these islands. He left Kāwhia, where he first settled, and came overland to Hauraki, and finally took up his residence in a village called Wakatīwai. He had at Kāwhia, a son called Marutūāhu, but Hotunui was not there when this child was born.

The cause which made him come from Kāwhia to Hauraki was a false accusation that was brought against him regarding a storehouse of sweet potatoes belonging to another chief, a friend of his. The accusation arose in this way. Hotunui went out of his house one night, almost at the same moment that a thief had gone out to rob this storehouse; it was very unfortunate that they should both have gone out nearly at the same moment, just about midnight. When day dawned, Hotunui came out of his house, and people in the morning had seen his footsteps, right along the path by which the thief had gone, and there were the sweet potatoes dropped all along the path, and as the soles of Hotunui’s feet were very large, his footprints had quite erased those of the thief; so presently they brought an accusation against Hotonui, that he had stolen the sweet potatoes. At this time Hotunui’s wife had just conceived Marutūāhu, but he was so overcome by shame at the accusation brought against him, that the thought came into his mind to run away from wife and all, and go to Hauraki to seek another residence for himself. His corn was ready, and he had dug his farm, and prepared the ground for planting it, but had not yet put in the seed, when he went to his wife and said, “Now, remember, when the child is born, if it is a boy, call it Marutūāhu, and if it is a girl, call it Paretuahu [either name meaning the field made ready for planting], in remembrance of that cultivation of mine, prepared for planting to no purpose.” Then Hotunui went off to Hauraki, and resided at Wakatīwai, and became the chief of the people of that country, and he took another wife, the young sister of a chief named Te Whatu, and she bore him a child named Paka.

When Marutūāhu came to man’s estate, he took up his club, and asked his mother, saying, “Mother, show me the mountain range that is near my father’s abode;” and the mother said,

“Look, my child, towards the place of sunrise.”

And her son said, “What, there?” and he was answered by his mother,

“Yes, that is it⁠—Hauraki;” and Marutūāhu answered,

“ ’Tis well; I understand.”

Then Marutūāhu started with his slave, and travelled towards Hauraki, and they carried with them a spear for killing birds; this they took as a means of procuring food on the journey, as they came by way of the wooded mountains where birds are plentiful. They were a whole month before they arrived at Kohukohunui, and reached the outskirts of the forests there early one morning at the same time that two young girls, the daughters of Te Whatu, the chief of Hauraki, were coming along the same path from the opposite direction. Marutūāhu was up in a forest tree, spearing Tui birds, at the moment when the two girls saw the slave sitting under the tree in which Marutūāhu was killing birds, and his master’s cloak lying on the ground by him. The two girls came merrily along the path; the youngest sister was very beautiful, but the eldest was plain; and when they saw the slave of Marutūāhu, the youngest one, who had seen him first, called out playfully, “Ah! there’s a man will make a nice slave for me.”

“Where?” said the elder sister, “where is he?” and the youngest replied,

“There, there, cannot you see him sitting at the root of that tree?” Then up they ran towards him, sportively contesting with one another whose slave he should be; and the youngest got there first, and therefore claimed him as her slave.

All this time Marutūāhu was peeping down at the two girls from the top of the tree; and they asked the slave, saying, “Where is your master?”

He answered, “I have no master but him.”

Then the girls looked about, and there was the cloak lying on the ground, and a heap of dead birds; and they kept on asking, “Where is he?” but it was not long before a flock of Tui settled on the tree where Marutūāhu was sitting; he speared at them, and struck a Tui, which made the tree ring with its cries; the girls heard it, and looking up, the youngest saw the young chief sitting in the top boughs of the tree; and she at once called up to him, “Ah, you shall be my husband;” but the eldest sister exclaimed, “You shall be mine,” and they began jesting and disputing between themselves which should have him for a husband, for he was a very handsome young man.

Then the two girls called up to him to come down from the tree, and down he came, and dropped upon the ground, and pressed his nose against the nose of each of the young girls. They then asked him to come to their village with them; to which he consented, but said, “You two go on ahead, and leave me and my slave, and we will follow you presently;” and the girls said,

“Very well, do you come after us.” Marutūāhu then told his slave to make a present to the girls of the food they had collected, and he gave them two bark baskets of pigeons, preserved in their own fat, and they went off to their village with these. Marutūāhu stopped behind with his slave, and as soon as the girls had gone, he went to a stream, and washed his hair in the water, and then came back, and combed it very carefully, and after coming it, he tied it up in a knot, and stuck fifty red kākā feathers in his head, and amongst them he placed the plume of a white heron, and the tail of a huia, as ornaments; he thus looked extremely handsome, and said to his slave, “Now, let us go.”

It was not very long before the two young girls came back from the village to meet their so called husband, that they might all go in together; and when they came up to him, there he was seated on the ground, looking quite different to what he did before, for he now appeared as handsome as the large crested cormorant; he had on outside, a Peuru cloak, within that, a cloak called the Kahakaha, and under that again, a garment called the Kōpū (this in ancient times made up the dress of a great chief); the two young girls felt deeply in love with him when they saw him, and they said to Maru’, “Come along to our father’s village with us;” and he again consented, and told his slave to keep with them, and as they all went along, Maru’ stopped a little until he was some way behind, for he thought that the girls had not found out who he was; as they proceeded, seeing that Maru’ did not follow them fast, they asked his slave, who kept along with them, “What is the name of your master?” and the slave answered,

“Is there no chief of the west coast of the island whose fame has reached this place?” and the young girls said,

“Yes, the fame of one man has reached this place, the fame of Marutūāhu, the son of Hotunui?” and the slave answered,

“This is he;” and the girls replied, “Dear, dear, we had not the least idea it was he.” By this time Maru’ was coming up again to join them, for he guessed the girls had asked his slave who he was, and that they had been told, but the girls ran off together to Hotunui, and their father Te Whatu, to inform them who was coming, as they had previously left the old men waiting for their return; but presently the two girls changed their plan, and arranged between themselves that the youngest should run off quickly to tell Hotunui that his son was coming, and that the eldest sister should be left to lead Marutūāhu to the village; and in this way they proceeded, those who were going slowly to the village loitering along, whilst the younger sister was far ahead, running as fast as she could, and crying out as she came near the village, “Are you there, O Hotunui? here’s your son coming⁠—here is Marutūāhu.”

Then Hotunui called out with a loud voice, “Where is he?” and she replied,

“Here he comes, he is coming along close behind me; make haste and have the floor of the house covered with fine mats for him, so that he may have a fitting reception.”

Marutūāhu soon came in sight, and as he was seen approaching, he looked as handsome as the beautiful crested cormorant. The people got upon the defences of the village, and ran outside the gates, to look at him; and the young girls all waved the corners of their cloaks, crying out, “Welcome, welcome, welcome, welcome, make haste, make haste;” and he stepped boldly out, and reached the village.

As soon as he had arrived there, they all wept over him; and when they had done weeping, they sat down, and formed a semicircle, with Marutūāhu at the open part; and Hotunui stood up to make a speech of welcome to his son, and he spoke thus: “Welcome, welcome, oh, my child, welcome to Hauraki, welcome. You are very welcome. You have suddenly appeared here, urged by your own affections. You are very welcome.”

Having said this, Hotunui sat down again; then Marutūāhu jumped up to make a speech in reply, and he said, “That is right, that is right, oh, my father, call out to your child, ‘You are welcome.’ Here I am arrived at Hauraki, here I am seeking out my father’s village in Hauraki, but I, who am the mere slave of my father, can say nothing in answer to his welcome; here I am arrived at your village, it is for you to speak; a young man just arrived from the forests has no fitting word to say in your presence.”

Thus he ended his speech, and a feast was spread out, and they all fell to eating, for they had killed ten dogs for the feast, and the chiefs all ate, and the two young girls; but, although no one knew it, the two sisters were all the time quarrelling with each other as to which of them should have Marutūāhu for a husband: the heart of one of them whispered to her, he shall be mine; but the heart of the other young girl said just the same thing to her.

The feast being ended, they left the common part of the fortress where food was eaten, and moved on one side, to the sacred precincts. When the evening came on a fire was kindled in the house, and the eldest girl not seeing her younger sister, went to her father to ask for her, and was told that she had been given as a wife to Marutūāhu. At this she was exceedingly vexed, and provoked with her sister; for although she was plain, she thought to herself, I am very pretty, and I am sure, there’s not the least reason why Marutūāhu should be frightened at me; and she went off to quarrel with her younger sister; but Marutūāhu did not like her on account of her plainness, and her pretty sister kept him as her husband.

Te Paka, the son of Hotunui, the nephew of Te Whatu, and the younger brother of Marutūāhu, had grown up to be a young man, so they gave him the elder daughter of Te Whatu to be his wife; thus the elder sister was married, as well as the young one, who was given to Marutūāhu for his wife; and Te Paka’s wife bore him a daughter, whom they called Te Kahureremoa.

The youngest daughter of Te Whatu, whom Marutūāhu married, bore him three children, Tamatepō, Tamaterā, and Whanaunga; from Tamatepō sprang the Ngāti Rongoū tribe; from Tamaterā sprang the tribe of Ngāti Tamaterā, and from Whanaunga sprang the Ngāti Whanaunga tribe.

Whilst Marutūāhu was living at Hauraki, his father Hotunui told him how very badly some of the people of that place had treated him. These were the facts of the case, as the old chief related them to him:⁠—“One day when the canoes of the tribe came in full of fish, after hauling their nets, he sent down one of his servants from his house to the canoe to bring back some fish for him, and when the servant ran down for this purpose, the man who owned the nets said to him, ‘Well, what brings you here?’ upon which his servant answered, ‘Hotunui sent me down to bring up some fish for him; he quite longs to taste them.’ Upon which the owner of nets cursed Hotunui in the most violent and offensive manner, saying, ‘Is his head the flax that grows in the swamp at Otoi? or is his topknot flax, that the old fellow cannot go there to get some flax to make a net for himself with, instead of troubling me?’ When Hotunui’s servant heard this, he returned at once to the house, and his master, not seeing the fish, said, ‘Well, tell me what is the matter;’ so he replied, ‘I went as you told me, and I asked the man who had been hauling the net for some fish, and he only looked up at me. Again I asked him for some fish; and then he said, “Who sent you here to fetch fish, pray?” Then I told him Hotunui sent me down to bring up some fish for him; he quite longs to taste them. Then the man cursed you, saying to me, ‘Is Hotunui’s head the flax that grows in the swamp at Otoi; or is his topknot flax, that the old fellow cannot go there to get some flax to make a net with for himself?’ ”

When Hotunui had told this story to Marutūāhu, he said, “Now, oh, my son, this tribe is a very bad one; they seem bent upon lowering the authority of their chiefs.”

The heart of Marutūāhu felt very gloomy when he heard his father had been treated thus, and Hotunui said to him, “You may well look sad, my son, at hearing what I have just said; this tribe is composed of very bad people.”

And Marutūāhu replied, “Leave them alone; they shall find out what such conduct leads to.”

Then Marutūāhu began to catch and dry great quantities of fish for a feast, and he worked away with his men at making fishing nets, until he had collected a very great number. It was in the winter that he began to make these nets, and the winter, spring, summer, and part of autumn passed before they were finished; then he sent a messenger to the tribe who had cursed his father to ask them to come to a feast, and to help him to stretch these nets; and when the messenger came back Marutūāhu asked him, “Where are they?” and the messenger answered,

“The day after tomorrow they will arrive here.”

Then Marutūāhu gave orders, saying, “Tomorrow let the feast be ranged in rows, so that when they arrive here they may find it all ready for them.” Upon this they all retired to rest, and when the dawn appeared they arranged the food to be given to the strangers in rows. The outside of the rows was composed of fish piled up; but under these was placed nothing but rotten wood and filth, although the exterior made a very goodly show. He intended this feast to be a feast at which those who came as guests should be slaughtered, in revenge for the curse against Hotunui, which had exceedingly pained his heart.

Soon after daybreak the next morning the guests came, and seeing the piles of provisions which were laid out for them, they were exceedingly rejoiced, and longed for the time of their distribution, and when they might touch this food, little thinking how dearly they were to pay for it. The guests had all arrived and taken their seats on the grass, when Marutūāhu and his people came together;⁠—they were only one hundred and forty.

As they were to stretch the great net made up of all the small ones upon the next morning, on that evening they put all the nets and ropes into the water to soak them, in order to soften the flax of which they were made, so that they might be more easily stretched; and when the morning dawned those who had come for the purpose began to draw out the net, stretching the rope and the bottom of the net along the ground, and pegging it tight down from corner to corner, and thus whilst Marutūāhu’s people were preparing food for them to eat, the others worked away at stretching the net taut, and pegging it fast to the ground to hold it; it was not long before they had finished this and had put on the weights to sink it.