Matthewi-:. — liemi iiisceuces. of Maori TAfe Fifty Tears ago. 601 



whdti tc inata o te tai " (The tide has turned). Almost iinmediately after 

 Popata stood up in his canoe and shouted out in a stentorian voice. " Hiia- 

 lina " (Charge). Then followed a most exciting race for the fishing-ground 

 and the nmtmka (first fish). All through the fleet the Maoris were shouting 

 " Hoca. tiaia, tola, pehia, ana humea.'" Roughly translated, these words are 

 hocd (pull), tiaia (stick it in), tola (drag it along), fehia (press it down), 

 kionea (haul it along). The last two mark deep, strong strokes of the paddle. 

 The word ana is intended to make the stroke more strenuous ; thus at the 

 words ana toia, ana pehia, ana kumea, &c., every ounce must be put into the 

 stroke. It was a brilliant moonlight night, and the whole fleet could be 

 plainly seen paddling furiously for the channel. The shouting, yelling, 

 and cheering, together with the noises that only the old-time Maoris could 

 make, were indescribable. 



As soon as the channel was reached anchors were let go, ngeris and 

 Ivkas (waterproof cloaks made out of the prepared leaves of the ti {Cordy- 

 line) were quickly tied round the waist, others were thrown over the 

 shoulders, and then the ready-baited hooks were thrown overboard. Al- 

 most immediately, " Kohi kohia " (Haul in) was shouted from a canoe close 

 to us, followed by a loud splashing and cries of " Mataika " (First fish). 

 Then came the blows of the timo clubbing the snout, which is the vulnerable 

 part of a shark. Presently one of our crew called " Kohi kohia,'''' for it was 

 the invariable custom when any one hooked a shark to give warning, so 

 that those sitting near could haul in or shorten their lines, and so save them 

 from being bitten of? or entangled. Eventually my turn came to give 

 warning. I pulled the shark up to the gunwale, my friend then took charge 

 and landed it on board by the ol^-time method known as whakaepa. The 

 stif! looped cord is held about 4 in. above the shank of the hook with the 

 left hand, whilst the right steadies and guides the shark as it is hauled in- 

 board. At the critical moment it is promptly sat upon, and several smart 

 blows mth the timo close to. the end of the snout soon quieten it. A corner 

 of the raho is then lifted up, and the shark is passed to the bottom of the 

 canoe. Within five minutes from the time of anchoring, and for the space 

 of at least three hours, the sound of the timo could be heard incessantlv 

 all around us, accentuated by shouting and loud splashings. The scene was 

 simply indescribable. All this time the fleet was gradually working down 

 towards the mouth of the harbour, and sunrise found us anchored near the 

 Heads. As the tide flowed we pulled up-river, and filled up at Te Mutu, 

 a celebrated sharking-ground. The rahos were thrown overboard to make 

 more room, and other preparations made for our return. 



By half-tide the fleet, consisting of fifty canoes and two boats, were 

 working up the harbour to the respective camps, apparently all deeply 

 loaded.- Any canoe had the right to continue work until high water, when 

 the fishing closed till the pakoki, two weeks later. When a tiger-shark 

 was hooked, or a large toiki (a much larger species than the dogfish), the 

 lines and anchor were quickly hauled in, and the canoe paddled to the 

 nearest sandbank. Sometimes the shark itself would tow the canoe into 

 shallow water, and roll about in the endeavour to rid itself of the hook. 

 It was quickly killed by spearing and by blows on the nose. 



We landed at our camp before high water, and, now that the excitement 

 was over, I felt stiff and tired, but was all right after a wash and a change 

 into dry clothes. On returning to the river-side to see what was going on, 

 I found that the sharks were all landed and laid out in separate heaps. I 

 noticed that many of them had notches cut out of the fins and tails. This 



