The Love of Hinemoa

High above the sandhills Rangi, the mighty Sky Father,Rangi the mightyExplanation: In Dittmer’s book, Rangi is the Sky Father. His garment is a poetic image of the sky. spreads his Garment of Day. It is adorned with a border of snow-white clouds, which restswhich is resting on the distant hills of Papa, Papa, the happy Earth MotherPapa, Papa, the happyExplanation: Papa is the Earth Mother. The hills, cliffs and trees are described as parts of her body..

Ah, she is sending white cloud-messengers of her love up to Rangi, to Rangi, the smiling, the beloved of Papa.

His golden Eye of Day, the sun, caresses Papa and looks down upon her with tenderness. Her blood rises, blushing, into her cheeks of snow-white cliffs, and higher into the crimson glory of the flowering Pohutukawa-trees which crown the cliffsHis golden Eye of Day caresses Papa, and looks down upon her with tenderness, and her blood mounts blushing into her cheeks of snow-white cliffs, and higher into the crimson glory of the flowering Pohutukawa-trees which crown the cliffsExplanation: The “Eye of Day” means the sun in Dittmer’s book. The image remains alongside this brief explanation.. The crimson flowers flutter down on the beach. Tangaroa, the restless god of the sea, takes possession of it again with long-rolling lines of foam carried on transparent waves and thrown ashore with majestic laughter and thundering songs to Papa, the beautiful motherThe crimson flowers flutter down on the beach, of which Tangaroa, the unresting, takes possession again with long-rolling lines of froth borne on transparent waves and thrown ashore with majestic laughter and thundering songs to Papa, the beautiful motherExplanation: Tangaroa is the god of the sea. The waves are described as his movement, laughter and song..

“See, how Rangi’s Eye of Day looks down, my good friend, filling the heart with longing. Ah, longing for happiness enters the heart of man, and Hine-nui-te-po, the Mother of Rest, is forgottenHine-nui-te-po is forgottenExplanation: Dittmer calls Hine-nui-te-po the Mother of Rest, who receives those who die. This is the same figure mentioned in the next paragraph..”

“Tell me, Ngawai, my good friend, what you have heard of the people who have wandered before us on the path to the Mother of Rest. Tell me what you have heard as you listened by the fires of the whare, the houselistening by the fires of the whareExplanation: “Whare” is the Māori word for a house or dwelling. The text does not specify a particular kind of house..”

“Listen then, while we wander along the edge of the sea, to the love that once wasListen then, while we wander along the border of the sea to the love that has been, the love of both, the two, of Hinemoa and Tutanekai.”

“Neither the clear waters of the Waitemata, nor the flowing water of the Waikato, nor the bottomless depths of Taupo-moana ever reflected such a beautiful image as Lake Rotorua didThe clear waters of the Waitemata never gave back such a beautiful image, nor did the flowing water of the Waikato nor the bottomless depth of Taupo-moana, as did the lake Rotorua on the evenings when the world was calm and Hinemoa looked down into the depths and was full of gladness.”

Ngawai beginscommences her narrative while the sun paints a blue halo in the black hair around her head. The light plays on her sunburnt faceThe light plays in the sunburnt face, the lips quiver, and the large eyes, full of light, see in the distance what her lips speak ofwhat the lips utter.

“Oh, Hinemoa was full of gladness and smiled at her image for joy. For sweetly over the sea comes the music of the flute and the horn playedwas full of gladness and was smiling at her image for joy, for over the sea sweetly sounds the music of the flute and the horn played by Tutanekai and his friend Tiki, far off in the middle of the lake on the island of Mokoia, Tutanekai’s home.”

And she sat and listened murmuring to the water: “Oh, Tutanekai, how sweet is your musicthy music to my heart! On many a calm night Hinemoa listened, and her joy grew ever greater, and her heart happier within herOn many a calm night has Hinemoa listened, and her joy grew always greater, and her heart happier within her. Sometimes there were great gatherings of the people on the mainland, in the pa (village) of Amukaria, Hinemoa’s father, and Tutanekai came over, but he felt sorrowful amid the feasting and merrymakingbut he felt sorrowful amidst the feasting and frolic. He stole quick glances at the beautiful maiden, but his hand trembled and he was ashamed. He glanced over to where Hinemoa was sittingbut his hand was trembling and he was ashamed; and he glanced over where Hinemoa was sitting like a beautiful white heron among a flock of Kiwi, and his heart was frightened. He was frightened and ill, and furious at his fear, as at a lizard eating away at his heartHe was frightened and ill, and was full of wrath over it, as over a lizard that ate away his heart. So he longed for powerful enemies, to fight away his trembling, and so forget his fearTherefore he longed for powerful enemies, to fight away his trembling, and thus to forget his fear.

So he collected his fellow warriorshis war-friends and went away like a dark cloud to the tribe of his enemies, challenging them to battle. Great was the fighting, and many were killed. But Tutanekai was victorious, taking many slaves and making great offerings to the God of Warchallenging them to battle; and great was the fighting, and many were slain, but Tutanekai was victorious, so that he took many slaves and made great offerings to the God of War.

The great battle and the many offerings to the War God gladdened his heart again, and he was frightened no more.

But again, when he was home with his friend Tiki, his music wandered over the water and took his heart away to Hinemoa. It brought back her image as she listened on the shore, and sorrow again grew within himhis music wandered over the water, and took his heart away to Hinemoa, and it brought back her image, as she listened on the shore, and sorrow again grew within him. So he sent Tiki, his friend, to Hinemoa, to tell her of his great sorrow at being away from herof his great sorrow in being away from her, and to ask her to come to him and to his heart, so that it might lose its fearthat it might lose its fright and be full of gladness.

Amukaria was watchful, but Tiki delivered his message, and Hinemoa answered, full of gladnessWatchful was Amukaria, but Tiki gave his message, and full of gladness answered Hinemoa: “Eh-hu, is then each of us growing in the heart of the other?”—and she promised to come to Tutanekai in a canoe, late on a black night, when he would play his sweetest music to call for her and to guide her in the darkness.

Amukaria, a great ariki, or high chief, would give Hinemoa as wife only to a chief with very great mana—prestige and authority. Her beauty was like the Morning Sun over the lake. Knowing the power and danger of such beauty, he ordered all the canoes to be taken off the lakeAmukaria, a great Ariki, was only willing to give Hinemoa as wife to a Rangatira of a very high mana, for her beauty was like the Morning Sun over the lake, and he, knowing the power and danger of such beauty, gave order that all the canoes should be taken off the lakeExplanation: An ariki is a high chief; rangatira denotes chiefly or high rank. Mana includes prestige, authority and spiritual power. These brief glosses clarify why Hinemoa’s father restricts her choice of husband.. So, whenThus, when the sweet music of Tutanekai called for Hinemoa, she wandered boatless on the shore, her heart full of tears, for she could not answer Tutanekai’s calling.”

Her eyes full of tears, Ngawai wandered along the rolling waves, speaking softly to herself in Māori of all the sorrows of Hinemoa, her ancestortelling herself in low tones, in Maori, of all the sorrows of Hinemoa, her ancestress. Ngawai accompanies her mutterings with movements of despair. She presses her hands against her heart, stretches her arms longingly over the ocean and presses them again to her chest. Then she speaks rapidly, in a different voiceNgawai accompanies her mutterings with movements which express despair; presses her hands against her heart; stretches her arms longingly over the ocean and presses them again to her bosom; then she speaks with a different voice and rapidly:

“One evening Hinemoa sat listening on the rocksat listening upon the rock Iri-iri-kapua, and suddenly the longing to go shook her like an earthquakeshook her as an earthquake. The trembling of love overtook her, and the courage of love overflowed her heart.

She went to the storehouse, took six dry and empty gourds, and tied them together with flax to use as floats. Then she went to the water’s edge, called Wai-rere-wai, threw off her mat of kiwi feathers, and set out to swim the long, long way with the help of the floating gourdsShe went to the store-house, and took six dry and empty gourds, and tied them together with flax for floats, and she went to the edge of the water, called Wai-rere-wai, threw off her mat of kiwi feathers, and cast herself to swim the long, long way with the help of the floating gourds. Oh, my friend, look at Hinemoabehold Hinemoa like a beautiful flying star casting herself into the water!

Oh, Hinemoa, the brave!”

Silent is Ngawai: her lips are murmuring incantations to Tangaroa; her hands tremble; her eyes are fixed far away in the distance.

“Ah, there, lookAh, there, behold, she is there where the stump of the sunken tree stands in the lake——

Oh, Hinemoa!

Her arms are weary and her chest heavesher bosom is panting as she holds on to the branches of the tree.

Ah, now darkness has swallowed herAh, now has darkness swallowed her!—oh her heart is brave!——

On she goes, on, on, weary her limbs, her chest heavingher breast panting, darkness around; but nearer and nearer comes the sweet music, nearer, nearer, and at last, with all her strength gone, her hands reach the rocks of Mokoia, where the hot spring is, in the cave Wai-ki-mihawhere the hot spring is in the cave Wai-ki-miha. In this cave she took shelter, for she was cold, and trembling like a dead leaf. Trembling were her hands, but her heart was full of joy! Weary were her limbs, but her love was great and happy!”

Ngawai strides forward with quick steps. Her chest heaves, but there is fire in her eyes and she murmurs to herselfNgawai is striding with quick steps forward, heaving is her bosom, but in her eyes is fire and she is murmuring to herself. Her heart and thoughts are far away among the waves of the lake Rotorua, battling there with the water, as Hinemoa did, her ancestorHinemoa did, her ancestress.

“Long, long was the way over the water—oh, great was the love of Hinemoa!—

While she was warming herself in the cave, a slave appeared at the narrow edge, sent by Tutanekai to fetch some water. When he had filled his calabash, a hollow gourd, Hinemoa called out to himWhilst she was warming herself in the cave, there appeared at the narrow edge a slave, sent by Tutanekai, to fetch some water; and when he had filled his calabash Hinemoa called out to himExplanation: Here a calabash is a water container made from the hard shell of a gourd. Its shape is not specified.: ‘Slave, for whom is that water?’—and the frightened slave answered: ‘For Tutanekai, my lordFor Tutanekai, my ariki.’ Hinemoa saidHinemoa spoke: ‘If it is for Tutanekai, then give it to me,’—and the frightened slave handed her the calabashreached her the calabash, and she drank and broke it on the rocks. The slave called out: ‘Why did you break Tutanekai’s calabash?’ But Hinemoa did not answerBut Hinemoa never answered.

Again Tutanekai sent the slave, and again Hinemoa spokeAgain did Tutanekai send the slave, and again spoke Hinemoa: ‘Give me Tutanekai’s calabash’—and again the frightened slave handed it to her in the darknessreached it to her into the darkness, and she drank and broke it again.

When Tutanekai heard the slave’s words, he reached furiously for his weapon made from whale bone. His cry rang out all over the islandWhen Tutanekai heard the words of the slave, he reached full of wrath for his war-weapon of whalebone, calling, so that it sounded all over the island: ‘Woe be to the man, woe be to the bad spirit, woe be to him who broke my calabashes! He will pay dearly for breaking my calabashes!I will make a calabash out of his skull!Explanation: For children, the graphic threat to make a drinking vessel from a skull is softened. Tutanekai’s anger, threat and weapon remain.’”

Harsh words come from Ngawai’s lips, but her eyes are full of laughterHarsh come the words from Ngawai’s lips, but full of laughter are her eyes, and she wanders a while, smiling to herself.

“In the dark cave, Tutanekai raised his powerful weapon for a deadly blow and cried fiercelyTutanekai, in the dark cave, his powerful weapon lifted for a deadly blow cried fiercely: ‘Who is that enemy? Tell me his name, for he will pay for breaking my calabashes!Who is that enemy, that I may give his name to my cup which I will make out of his skull?Explanation: For children, the repeated graphic threat about a skull is softened. Tutanekai still demands the stranger’s name and threatens revenge.’

A voice answered softly out of the darknessA voice answered softly out the darkness: ‘It is I’—and the beautiful noblewomanthe beautiful RangatiraExplanation: Rangatira can describe a person of chiefly or high rank. Hinemoa’s rank remains; she is not given a new role as ruler., dressed in her flowing hair, stretched her arms longinglystretched longingly her arms towards Tutanekai: ‘O, Tutanekai, my lordTutanekai, my ariki, kill me, kill Hinemoa.’

Ha! the powerful weapon fell to the ground like a useless stick; forgotten was the God of War; forgotten were the lizards—sorrow and fear—and a voice full of love sounded out of the caveforgotten the lizards: sorrow and fear and full of love sounds the voice out of the cave: ‘Hinemoa!’

And from the rocks it echoed over the lake: ‘Hinemoa!’”

For a long time Ngawai stares into her hands, squatting down on the beach. Then her lips form one wordLong is Ngawai staring in her hands, squatting down on the beach, then form her lips one word: “Hinemoa.”