/Vcifto at Rtvieu-n^ iOl^iQ^. 



In the Heart of Maoriland. 



35' 



An Urewera Type. 

 From a sketch by J. M'Donald. 



haunts the Bay of Plenty to this day. It is pro- 

 posed by the Urewera people (at the suggestion of 

 the Hon. Mr. Carrol!, Native Minister) to build a 

 larger and more complete pa, which shall stand 

 through the generations to come as a type of the 

 ancient hill-fort, a relic of the departed glories of 

 Maoridom. 



Suddenly, as we rested beneath the parapets, we 

 were startled by a " horrible, horrible yel!," and 

 round the corner of the stockade appeared a fero- 

 cious figure, tattooed, red-painted, befeathered, and 

 naked, except for a very brief waist-finnge of dang- 

 ling /w-palm fibre. His eyes rolled till the whites 

 only were seen, then he thrust out a long and snakv 

 tongue, and grimaced fearfully. Shaking a wooden 

 spear in his hand, he swiftly cast it at us, then 

 turned .ind rushed towards the village. This was 

 the iivigaia^vcro, and his savage manner of greeting 

 us the formal reception accorcied a war-column or a 

 visit'ng party. Just as the spearsman turned, one 

 of our young men, who had rapidly divested him 

 self of all but his waist-shawl, dtrted out in pursuit, 

 ind we followed at a more dignified pace. 



Then we saw that the entrance to the village marac 

 was barred by a body of armed men, stripped to a 

 gantlin', as sailors say, crouching still as death, on 

 one knee, each holding a gun, butt on the ground, 

 barrel sloping towards us. The tangata-wero halted 

 and turned facing us when he reached the shelter 

 of his co'umn, and our runner stopped short. We 

 advanced until we were within about twenty paces 

 of the warriors. Then all at once, at a wild cr\ 

 from a chief on the right, they jumped to their feet, 

 leaped high in air, with their feet doubled under 

 them like deer, and with one voice literally barked 

 out a thundering chorus. It sounded mightily like 

 a war-song, though it was simpK a pacific chant of 

 welcome. This way and that our martial hosts 

 bounded, brandishing their loaded rifles and tuparas 

 (double-barrelled guns) in time to the chant. Halting 

 abniptly. with an earth-shaking thud, they fired a 

 volley of ball cartridge over our heads — a rather 

 startling form of greeting, but one which we faced 

 with grave and impassive politeness, as if it were 

 quite an ever\'-day occurrence with us — thous;h a 

 few years back it would have roused Nsiatiwhare's 

 deadly ire. Another volley reverberated from hill to 

 hill, and the b'jllets whistled over us. Then the 

 brown warriors fell back, and a gailv-dressed band of 

 women, with green leaves wreathed about their 

 bro^vs, and waving shawls and leafy boughs, advanc 

 ed with a gliding semi-dance, and chanted their 

 ancient welcome song, the " Powhiri " : — 



Greetine*s, ereetines to you. _ strangers— 



Straneers from the far horizon. 



F'-om the bounds of earth and heaven. 



WTiere the aby and water meet. 



'Twas our dearest child that brought you 



From the very distant places — 



Welcome ye, oh. oome. oh. come! 



When the powhiri ceased, out to the front danced 

 si.\ girls — a group of vividly barbaric, yet not in- 



