CHAPTER II. TE ARATUKUTUKU'S REVENGE. THE STORY OF THE SUNKEN PA AT ROTORUA.
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CHAPTER II.
TE ARATUKUTUKU'S REVENGE.
THE STORY OF THE SUNKEN PA AT ROTORUA.
Nearly sixty years ago, on my first visit to Rotorua, there stood long rows of huge, roughly carved posts partly encircling the Muruika promontory at Ohinemutu, while extending a hundred yards or more into the lake were countless other posts, in part submerged. On inquiring about these posts, I observed a reticence among those interrogated, and I failed to learn anything more than the fact that they were the remains of a populous pa which, some generations ago, suddenly disappeared in the hot waters by which it was then mainly surrounded. At last I learned the story from the chief.
A long time ago, said my old Maori friend, a certain woman of high rank named Te Aratukutuku, of Tuhourangi and Ngatituwharetoa, came to Muruika pa, having relatives there. She was suffering from the fell disease mentioned in the fifth chapter of St. Mark, 25th verse, and sought the health-giving waters of Te Papaiouru. Added to her terrible affliction, she was totally blind, and therefore more or less unaware of the spectacle she presented, but whenever she passed a group of women she heard their derisive laughter and satirical remarks, and upon inquiring of a relative, she learned how repulsive was her appearance. She had been wounded in the house of her friends, and great indeed was her mortification. Byron declares that--
Sweet is revenge, especially to women,
Pillage to soldiers, prize money to seamen.
And poor Aratukutuku was no exception to this rule. She determined on a terrible revenge for the monstrous breach of hospitality and the shame and disgrace brought upon her by the people of Muruika.
Painfully the indignant chieftainess made the long journey to Lake Taupo. There she appealed to the numerous protecting gods of her own people for help, and they responded willingly to her call. Accordingly, a Pahi Atua, a travelling company
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of beings endowed with supernatural powers, accompanied her back; to Rotorua. Being overtaken by daybreak at Te Wai-whiti-inanga, the long sandy beach at the month of the Puarenga stream, and to avoid being seen by the dwellers of the doomed village, they, by enchantment, were transformed into a mass of driftwood, and lay on the lake strand like the aftermath of a great flood.
The curiosity of the villagers became aroused at the novel sight, as there had been no flood. Moreover, on inspection, they
discovered the logs were of trees not found growing in the district, and, more mystified than ever, they returned to their pa to discuss the phenomenon. At midnight the pahi atua resumed their usual forms, and surrounded the sleeping village. Conjuring up all the powers of evil, they destroyed the doomed pa. Muruika was suddenly engulfed in the boiling waters of Ruapeka Bay, and all its dwellers perished miserably therein.
"Can you wonder," asked the old chief, "that we should wish to let such a discreditable episode in our tribal history sink into oblivion? That was the reason of our disinclination to mention it."
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About four years ago Rotorua Lake was lower than it had been for half a century, and a greater number of posts and stumps could be seen round Muruika Point. I frequently
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waded out among them, and found some perfect "takuahi," or hearth stones, and several stone axes. At one place a cluster of totara piles represented the foundation of a once famous pataka, or store house, known in ancient days by the very significant name of Tatua Wetekia--loosen your belly-band--which, tradition states, was always kept stored to the roof with every kind of the choicest foods, so that in the event of a surprise party of guests arriving, be there a score or many hundreds, an ample feast was soon available.
The mauri, or mana, of Ohinemutu was centred in a red pointed stone, about three feet high, which stood a little beyond the north-east corner of the pretty church. It had been set up by a famous ancestor of the Arawa people, Ihenga by name, son of Tuhoro-matakaka (fiery-eyed), a son of Tama-te-kapua. The latter had a second son, Kahu-mata-momoe (sleepy, soft-eyed), whose daughter Hine-te-kakara (the fragrant maiden) had been given in marriage to her cousin Ihenga. He it was who claimed Rotorua by right of discovery, and named it Rotorua-nui-a Kahu, after his father-in-law. Ihenga had an only daughter, who also took her mother's name and who was basely slain by Tangaroa-mihi or others on the east side of the lake. The murderers disembowelled her, and cast the intestines into the lake. Ihenga searched long and anxiously for his beloved child, and discovered the remains hanging on a snag near Ngongotaha, hence the name of the place, Hakaipuku. To punish her murderers, he set up the stone above-mentioned as a rahui, naming it Ohinemutu (the only daughter), and for ten years the people were forbidden to take food from the lake.
Strange to relate, Hinetekakara's stone played an important part in saving the pa from destruction at the hands of the great Ngatihaua chief, Te Waharoa, who defeated the combined Arawa at Mataipuku on August 6, 1836, and drove them panic-stricken into the pa. The defenders neglected to close the Waharoa, or gateway, and were endeavouring to escape by crowding into their canoes, when Korokai, their aged chief, flung his arms round the sacred stone, exclaiming: "Let me die on this sacred soil." His example so inspired the tribe that they rallied just in time to expel the invaders and save Ohinemutu from a terrible massacre.
Hinetekakara's stone was for many generations an object of veneration to which visitors paid oblation and offerings, but in the late Eighties it suddenly disappeared, and rumour had it that it was converted into road metal by the prosaic-minded officials then controlling the destinies of the Rotorua township
