CHAP. Ill 
MAORI FOLK-LORE 
189 
lived on this island of the steaming water. To prevent 
her from escaping to him all the canoes the tribe 
possessed were collected, fastened together and hidden. 
But love, who laughs at locksmiths, must have tittered 
at the idea that any such clumsy device as this could 
keep true lovers asunder. Hinemoa wandered down 
to the shore, and listening to the soft notes of Tutane 
Kai’s lute, the signal that he was waiting for her, 
determined that, canoe or no canoe, she must keep 
tryst. So she took a number of empty gourds, and 
using them as floats swam successfully from the main- 
land to her lover’s island, resting en route , so legend 
says, first on a sunken rock and then on a floating 
tree (which one may suppose the kindly Maori 
divinities sent that way). Arrived at the island, 
Hinemoa hid herself in the steaming bath, and waited 
a fitting moment to declare herself to her astonished 
lover, which moment was found when a slave came 
to draw water, when Hinemoa, seizing the calabash 
from her hand, dived like a sea-maiden under the 
wave. The slave, terrified and confounded, rushed to 
tell her master of the apparition, and he came at once 
to the water. The rest of the tale may be left to the 
imagination, but the lute, which played the part of 
Hero’s lamp in the older tale, is now in Sir George 
Grey’s collection in the Museum in Auckland. 
In ancient times the great Taniwhas, or sea monsters, 
lived in these lakes, says legend. Of course their 
favourite food was human flesh, and of course every 
evil that befell the natives was caused by their witchery. 
Once upon a time, too, there was a giantess called 
Kurangituku, who did much mischief, and was greatly 
feared. After inveigling and doing to death many 
brave men, she at last lured a chief called Hatupatu 
from Tarawera, where he was spearing pigeons. She 
