Best. — Maori Forest Lore. 281 



Ruru [Ninox novce-zealandice ; Morepork). — This well-known bird is some- 

 times known as Jcoukou and peho. As Mihi-ki-te-kapua of old sang, when 

 left lonely in her old age at Wai-kare Moana, — • 



E peho, e te nini, he tokoiua ano 

 Tena ko au nei, he kotahi. 



If a ruru is heard to utter its cry at a junction of two tracks it is looked 

 upon as a sign that a hostile party is approaching — a war-party is at hand — 

 look out for squalls. As old Pio put it, " I begin another subject — the warn- 

 ing given by the ruru when danger is nigh. If a war-party approaches a 

 hamlet, this bird gives warning of its coming. It calls out to the people 

 of the place in this way : ' Kou, kou ! Whero, whero, tvhero ! ' Then the 

 people arise and fly to the forest. The enemy assaults an empty place." 

 So much for the wise owl. 



A Native states that the morepork has four different calls, and that 

 if a person imitates the bird's cry it will answer him. Its first cry is " Kou, 

 kou ! " hence the bird is in some places termed koukou — an example of 

 onomatopoeia. The next cry is " E — e — e ! " which is he tangi aroka ki te 

 tanxjnta — a kindly greeting to man. Another cry is " Whe. u'he, toJie ! " 

 and then " Peho, peho ! " which latter is thought to betoken anger. Pio, 

 of Awa, says that the bird will answer a mimic call three or four times : 

 " Ko te ruru, tana korero, kou, kou ! Ka utua e te tangata, ka tahi pona, 

 kou, kou ! Ka rua pona, kou, kou ! Ka torn pona, ka vhakarere. Ka 

 wha pona ranei, ka whakarere.^' 



These birds were, and are still, eaten by Natives. They are simply 

 knocked down with a stick, or snared by means of a slip-noose on the end 

 of a stick. The fowler takes a leaf between the thumb and one finger of 

 his left hand, and twirls it in order to attract the attention of the bird as he 

 slips the noose over its head. 



Native children will cook and eat a morepork, or any other bird, wherever 

 they happen to kill one. 



I have a friendly ruru at my camp here, beneath the frowning defences 

 of the old Hau-kapua pa. On cold winter mornings, when the frost is keen, 

 this bird comes forth from the bush as soon as the sun rises, and perches 

 himself upon my garden-fence, where, with closed eyes, he suns himself for 

 an hour or more. Though very close to the camp he does not get alarmed, 

 knowing by experience that he will not be molested. 



In only one case have I heard of a ruru being looked upon as the form 

 of incarnation of an atua maori. Karukaru, an atua or demon of the Natives 

 of the Whanganui River, was brought to this district some years ago {i.e., 

 his cult was so brought, I presume). The aria of Karukaru is a ruru. This 

 was the familiar demon of Matoru, a would-be shaman of these parts, whose 

 nose was put out of joint by Rua the keka. This demon, Karukaru, guards 

 his human mediums from danger, warns them when any one is attempting 

 to bewitch them, &c. One evening old Paitini returned to his home at 

 Heipipi and found a ruru perched under the porch of his cabin. The bird 

 was startled and flew away to an open shed, where it perched itself upon a 

 buggy that old Pai had bought. The old man at once suspected something 

 was wrong. A most superstitious man, your elderly Maori. He suspected 

 the poor ruru to be the worthy Matoru's demon, sent for no good purpose. 

 He went to the shaman and made inquiries. Matoru told him that he had 

 sent his familiar demon to take possession of the buggy, which was hence- 

 forward to be the property of the dread Karukaru. Pai was also told that 

 if he did not quietly give up possession of the buggy, then both he and his 



