Cowan. — Maori Place-navies. 117 



sounds and leading strange omens in earth and sky,£was careful 

 not to venture too close to the haunts of the maeroero. On 

 gloomy and misty days, when the fog descended and enveloped 

 the heights, the fairy people could be heard singing songs in a 

 ghostly cadence and calling to each other; and then, too, re- 

 sounded the faint and plaintive music of the koauau, or nose- 

 flute, and the doleful note of the putorino horn, and the voices 

 of the fairy children laughing and singing above the clouds. 

 A quaint story of these maero mountains used to be told by the 

 late chief Paitu, who lived at Riverton. When he was a youth, 

 he said, he lived at the haika of Takerehaka (where Kingston 

 now stands). The shores of Whakatipu abounded in fat wood- 

 hens {weka), and Paitu and his companions spent much of 

 their time in hunting them for food. The elder people warned 

 him nob to cross a certain little stream at the base of the moun- 

 tains, for beyond it, they said, was the home of the maeroero, 

 amidst dark overhanging cliffs. " You may hear the cry of the 

 weka beyond the creek," Paitu was told, " but beware— the 

 maero will have you if you cross." One night Paitu, hunting 

 wekas as usual with his dog, found himself close to the forbidden 

 stream, and, hearing the cry of a weka on the other side, waded 

 through, unmindful of the warning. He crept along through 

 the shrubbery to a clump of mikimiki bushes, where the bird 

 was feeding on the berries. Holding his dog in leash, he began 

 to turutu — that is, to imitate the cry of the weka, so as to lure 

 it within catching-distance. Enticing the woodhen closer and 

 closer, he quietly sent his dog at it. The dog seized the bird, but 

 next moment there was a terrific yelp, and the animal flew back 

 trembling and whining ; and through the darkness Paitu heard 

 a giuff voice exclaim " E-e ! Taku weka momona " (" Ha ! my 

 fat woodhen "). It was the maero ! With hair on end Paitu 

 left his weka to the maero and splashed homeward through the 

 creek, fearing every moment to feel the grip of the mountain- 

 ogre on his shoulder ; and he and his dog ventured no more into 

 the haunted spot. The old Maoris on the coast to this day 

 speak of these dark and lowering heights as " nga puke maeroero " 

 (" the hills of the fairies "). 



A familiar name to New-Zealanders is " Monowai," the modern 

 name of a lake in the extreme south-west of the South Island, 

 after which one of the Union Company's steamers is named. 

 This name is generally pointed to as a curious combination of 

 the Greek word monos ("one") and Maori wai ("water"). 

 It was given by Mr. McKerrow, late Survey or -General, who first 

 surveyed the lake. It is not so generally known, howevar, that 

 the correct Maori name of the lake is " Manokiwai," originally a 

 personal name : this is the name by which it is known to the 



