OF THE SOUTH SEAS 385 



Tiura assumed a serious pose for the divulgement of 

 secret lore. His language became grandiose, as if he 

 repeated verbatim a rune of his ancestors: 



"We Maoris lived at that time in the great peace of 

 our long, quiet years. No outside influence, no evil 

 wind, troubled our dreams. The men and women were 

 hinuliinu, of high souls. At the head of the valley, in 

 a grove of breadfruit, lived Taua a Tiaroroa, his valiine 

 Rehua, and their two children, whose bodies were as 

 round as the breadfuit, and whose eyes were like the 

 black borders of the pearl-shells of the Conquered atolls. 

 They were named Pipiri and Rehua iti, but were known 

 as Pipiri Ma, the inseparables. One night when the 

 moon, Avae, was at the height of its brilliancy, Taua 

 and Rehua trod the green path to the sea. They lifted 

 their canoe from its couch upon the grass, and with 

 lighted torch of cocoanut-leaves glided toward the cen- 

 ter of the lagoon. 



"The woman stood motionless at the prow, and from 

 her right hand issued the flames of their torch with a 

 hissing sound — the flames which fell later in smoky 

 clouds along the shore. A multitude of fish of strange 

 form, fascinated by the blinding light, swam curiously 

 about the canoe like butterflies. Taua stopped pad- 

 pling, and directed his twelve-pronged harpoon toward 

 the biggest fish. With a quick and powerful stroke the 

 heavy harpoon shot like an arow from his hand and 

 pierced the flashing scales. Soon the baskets of purau- 

 fiber were filled, and they took back the canoe to its 

 resting-place, and returned to their house, again treading 

 the emerald trail which shone bright under the flooding 

 moon. On the red-hot stones of the umu the fish grew 



