The Story of Hine-Moa – The Maiden of Rotorua. A Story from New Zealand

AND the man said to him (Sir George Grey), ‘Now, O governor, just look round you, and listen to me, for there is something worth seeing here; that very spot that you are sitting upon, is the place on which sat our great ancestress Hine-Moa, when she swam over here from the main. But I’ll tell you the whole story.

 

‘Look you now, Rangi-Uru was the name of the mother of a chief called Tutanekai; she was, properly, the wife of Whakaue-Kaipapa (the great ancestor of the Ngatiwhakaue tribe); but she at one time ran away with a chief named Tuwharetoa (the great ancestor of the Te Heuheu and the Ngatituwharetoa tribe); before this she had three sons by Whakaue, their names were Tawakeheimoa, Ngararanui, and Tuteaiti. It was after the birth of this third son, that Rangi-Uru eloped with Tuwharetoa, who had come to Rotorua as a stranger on a visit. From this affair sprang Tutanekai, who was an illegitimate child; but finally, Whakaue and Rangi-Uru were united again, and she had another son whose name was Kopako; and then she had a daughter whom they named Tupa; she was the last child of Whakaue.

 

‘They all resided here on the island of Mokoia. Whakaue was very kind indeed to Tutanekai, treating him as if he was his own son; so they grew up here, Tutanekai and his elder brothers, until they attained to manhood.

 

‘Now there reached them here a great report of Hine-Moa, that she was a maiden of rare beauty, as well as of high rank, for Umukaria (the great ancestor of the Ngati Umu-karia-hapu, or sub-tribe) was her father; her mother’s name was Hine-Maru. When such fame attended her beauty and rank, Tutanekai and each of his elder brothers desired to have her as a wife.

 

‘About this time Tutanekai built an elevated balcony, on the slope of that hill just above you there, which is called Kaiweka. He had contracted a great friendship for a young man named Tiki; they were both fond of music: Tutanekai played on the horn, and Tiki on the pipe; and they used to go up into the balcony and play on their instruments in the night; and in calm evenings the sound of their music was wafted by the gentle land–breezes across the lake to the village at Owhata, where dwelt the beautiful young Hine-Moa, the young sister of Wahiao.

 

‘Hine-Moa could then hear the sweet sounding music of the instruments of Tutanekai and of his dear friend Tiki, which gladdened her heart Within her–every night the two friends played on their instruments in this manner–and Hine-Moa then ever said to herself: “Ah! that is the music of Tutanekai which I hear.”

 

‘For although Hine-Moa was so prized by her family, that they would not betroth her to any chief; nevertheless, she and Tutanekai had met each other on those occasions when all the people of Rotorua come together.

 

‘In those great assemblies of the people Hine-Moa had seen Tutanekai, and as they often glanced each at the other, to the heart of each of them the other appeared pleasing, and worthy of love, so that in the breast of each there grew up a secret passion for the other. Nevertheless, Tutanekai could not tell whether he might venture to approach Hine-Moa to take her hand, to see would she press his in return, because, said he: “Perhaps I may be by no means agreeable to her”; on the other hand, Hine-Moa’s heart said to her: “If you send one of your female friends to tell him of your love, perchance he will not be pleased with you.”

They often glanced at each other – The Story of Hine Moa

 

‘However, after they had thus met for many, many days, and had long fondly glanced each at the other, Tutanekai sent a messenger to Hine-Moa, to tell of his love; and when Hine-Moa had seen the messenger, she said: “Eh-hu! have we then each loved alike?”

 

‘Some time after this, and when they had often met, Tutanekai and his family returned to their own village; and being together one evening, in the large warm house of general assembly, the elder brothers of Tutanekai said: ‘Which of us has by signs, or by pressure of the hand, received proofs of the love of Hine-Moa?” And one said: “It is I who have”; and another said: “No, but it is I.” Then they also questioned Tutanekai, and he said: “I have pressed the hand of Hine-Moa, and she pressed mine in return”; but his elder brother said: “No such thing; do you think she would take any notice of such a low-born fellow as you are?” He then told his reputed father, Whakaue, to remember what he would then say to him, because he really had received proofs of Hine-Moa’s love; they had even actually arranged a good while before the time at which Hine-Moa should run away to him; and, when the maiden asked: “What shall be the sign by which I shall know that I should then run to you?” he said to her: “A trumpet will be heard sounding every night, it will be I who sound it, beloved–paddle then your canoe to that place.” So Whakaue kept in his mind this confession which Tutanekai had made to him.

 

‘Now always about the middle of the night Tutanekai, and his friend Tiki, went up into their balcony and played, the one upon his trumpet, the other upon his flute, and Hine-Moa heard them, and desired vastly to paddle in her canoe to Tutanekai; but her friends suspecting something, had been careful with the canoes, to leave none afloat, but had hauled then all up upon the shore of the lake; and thus her friends had always done for many days and for many nights.

 

‘At last she reflected in her heart, saying: “How can I then contrive to cross the lake to the island of Mokoia; it can plainly be seen that my friends suspect what I am going to do.” So she sat down upon the ground to rest; and then soft measures reached her from the horn of Tutanekai, and the young and beautiful chieftainess felt as if an earthquake shook her to make her go to the beloved of her heart; but then arose the recollection, that there was no canoe. At last she thought, perhaps I might be able to swim across. So she took six large dry empty gourds, as floats, lest she should sink in the water, three of them for each side, and she went out upon a rock, which is named Iri-iri-kapua, and from thence to the edge of the water, to the spot called Wairerewai, and there she threw off her clothes and cast herself into the water, and she reached the stump of a sunken tree which used to stand in the lake, and was called Hinewhata, and she clung to it with her hands, and rested to take breath, and when she had a little eased the weariness of her shoulders, she swam on again, and whenever she was exhausted she floated with the current of the lake, supported by the gourds, and after recovering strength she swam on again; but she could not distinguish in which direction she should proceed, from the darkness of the night; her only guide was, however, the soft measure from the instrument of Tutanekai; that was the mark by which she swam straight to Waikimihia, for just above that hot-spring was the village of Tutanekai, and swimming, at last she reached the island of Mokoia.

 

She clung to the gourds – The Story of Hine Moa

 

‘At the place where she landed on the island, there is a hot-spring separated from the lake only by a narrow ledge of rocks; this is it–it is called, as I just said, Waikimihia. Hine-Moa got into this to warm herself, for she was trembling all over, partly from the cold, after swimming in the night across the wide lake of Rotorua, and partly also, perhaps, from modesty, at the thoughts of meeting Tutanekai.

 

‘Whilst the maiden was thus warming herself in the hot-spring, Tutanekai happened to feel thirsty, and said to his servant: “Bring me a little water”; so his servant went to fetch water for him, and drew it from the lake in a calabash, close to the spot where Hine-Moa was sitting; the maiden, who was frightened, called out to him in a gruff voice like that of a man: “Whom is that water for?” He replied: “It’s for Tutanekai.” “Give it there, then”, said Hine-Moa. And he gave her the water, and she drank, and having finished drinking, purposely threw down the calabash, and broke it. Then the servant asked her: “What business had you to break the calabash of Tutanekai?” But Hine-Moa did not say a word in answer. The servant then went back, and Tutanekai said to him: “Where is the water I told you to bring me?” So he answered: “Your calabash was broken.” And his master asked him: “Who broke it?”–and he answered: “The man who is in the bath.” And Tutanekai said to him: “Go back again then, and fetch me some water.”

 

‘He, therefore, took a second calabash, and went back, and drew water in the calabash from the lake; and Hine-Moa again said to him: “Whom is that water for?”–so the slave answered as before: “For Tutanekai.” And the maiden again said: “Give it to me, for I am thirsty”; and the slave gave it to her, and she drank, and purposely threw down the calabash and broke it; and these occurrences took place repeatedly between those two persons.

 

‘At last the slave went again to Tutanekai, who said to him: “Where is the water for me?”-and his servant answered: “It is all gone–your calabashes have been broken.” “By whom?” said his master. “Didn’t I tell you that there is a man in the bath?” answered the servant. “Who is the fellow?” said Tutanekai. “How can I tell?” replied the slave; “why, he’s a stranger.” “Didn’t he know the water was for me?” said Tutanekai; “how did the rascal dare to break my calabashes? Why, I shall die from rage.”

 

‘Then Tutanekai threw on some clothes, and caught hold of his dub, and away he went, and came to the bath, and called out: “Where’s that fellow who broke my calabashes?” And Hine-Moa knew the voice, that the sound of it was that of the beloved of her heart; and she hid herself under the overhanging rocks of the hot-spring; but her hiding was hardly a real hiding, but rather a bashful concealing of herself from Tutanekai, that he might not find her at once, but only after trouble and careful searching for her; so he went feeling about along the banks of the hot-spring, searching everywhere, whilst she lay coyly hid under the ledges of the rock, peeping out, wondering when she would be found. At last he caught hold of a hand, and cried out: “Hollo, who’s this?” And Hine-Moa answered: “It’s I, Tutanekai.” And he said: “But who are you?–who’s I?” Then she spoke louder, and said: “It’s I, ’tis Hine-Moa.” And he said: “Ho! ho! ho! can such in very truth be the case? Let us two go then to my house.” And she answered: “Yes”; and she rose up in the water as beautiful as the white heron, and stepped upon the edge of the bath as graceful as the shy white crane; and he threw garments over her and took her, and they proceeded to his house, and reposed there; and thenceforth, according to the ancient laws of the Maori, they were man and wife.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He threw garments over her

‘When the morning dawned, all the people of the village went forth from their houses to cook their breakfasts, and they all ate; but Tutanekai tarried in his house. So Whakaue said: “This is the first morning that Tutanekai has slept in this way, perhaps the lad is ill–bring him here–rouse him up.” Then the man who was to fetch him went, and drew back the sliding wooden window of the house, and peeping in, saw four feet. Oh! he was greatly amazed, and said to himself: “Who can this companion of his be?” However, he had seen quite enough, and turning about, hurried back as fast as he could to Whakaue, and said to him: “Why, there are four feet, I saw them myself in the house.” Whakaue answered: “Who is his companion then? hasten back and see.” So back he went to the house, and peeped in at them again, and then for the first time he saw it was Hine-Moa. Then he shouted out in his amazement: “Oh! here’s Hine-Moa, here’s Hine-Moa, in the house of Tutanekai”; and all the village heard him, and there arose cries on every side, “Oh! here’s Hine-Moa, here’s Hine-Moa with Tutanekai.” And his elder brothers heard the shouting, and they said: “It is not true!”–for they were very jealous indeed. Tutanekai then appeared coming from his house, and Hine-Moa following him, and his elder brothers saw that it was indeed Hine-Moa; and they said: “It is true! It is a fact!”

 

‘After these things, Tiki thought within himself: “Tutanekai has married Hine-Moa, she whom he loved; but as for me, alas! I have no wife”; and he became sorrowful, and returned to his own village. And Tutanekai was grieved for Tiki; and he said to Whakaue: “I am quite ill from grief for my friend Tiki”; and Whakaue said: “What do you mean?” And Tutanekai replied: “I refer to my young sister Tupa; let her be given as a wife to my beloved friend, to Tiki”; and his reputed father Whakaue consented to this; so his young sister Tupa was given to Tiki, and she became his wife.

 

‘The descendants of Hine-Moa and of Tutanekai are at this very day dwelling on the lake of Rotorua, and never yet have the lips of the offspring of Hine-Moa forgotten to repeat tales of the great beauty of their renowned ancestress Hine-Moa, and of her swimming over here; and this too is the burden of a song still current.’

 

The Art of Netting Learned by Kahukura from the Fairies – A Maori Tale from New Zealand

Today we head back to the west coast of the USA. But first a stopover in New Zealand, also known as the land of the long white cloud, or Aotearoa (ay-oh-tee-ah-roh-ah) in the Maori language.

Our tale today hails from Maori folklore and is titled “The Art of Netting Learned by Kahukura from the Fairies”. It translates into Maori as “Ko Te Korero Mo Nga Patupaiarehe”

 

ONCE upon a time, a man of the name of Kahukura wished to pay a visit to Rangiaowhia, a place lying far to the northward, near the country of the tribe called Te Rarawa. Whilst he lived at his own village, he was continually haunted by a desire to visit that place. At length he started on his journey, and reached Rangiaowhia, and as he was on his road, be passed a place where some people had been cleaning mackerel, and he saw the inside of the fish lying all about the sand on the sea-shore: surprised at this, he looked about at the marks, and said to himself: ‘Oh, this must have been done by some of the people of the district.’ But when he came to look a little more narrowly at the footmarks, he saw that the people who had been fishing had made them in the night-time, not that morning, nor in the day; and he said to himself: ‘These are no mortals who have been fishing here–spirits must have done this; had they been men, some of the reeds and grass which they sat on in their canoe would have been lying about.’ He felt quite sure from several circumstances, that spirits or fairies had been there; and after observing everything well, he returned to the house where he was stopping. He, however, held fast in his heart what he had seen, as something very striking to tell all his friends in every direction, and as likely to be the means of gaining knowledge which might enable him to find out something new.

 

So that night he returned to the place where he had observed all these things, and just as he reached the spot, back had come the fairies too, to haul their net for mackerel; and some of them were shouting out: ‘The net here! the net here!’ Then a canoe paddled off to fetch the other in which the net was laid, and as they dropped the net into the water, they began to cry out: ‘Drop the net in the sea at Rangiaowhia, and haul it at Mamaku.’ These words were sung out by the fairies, as an encouragement in their work and from the joy of their hearts at their sport in fishing.

 

As the fairies were dragging the net to the shore, Kahukura managed to mix amongst them, and hauled away at the rope; he happened to be a very fair man, so that his skin was almost as white as that of these fairies, and from that cause he was not observed by them. As the net came close in to the shore, the fairies began to cheer and shout: ‘Go out into the sea some of you, in front of the rocks, lest the nets should be entangled at Tawatawauia by Teweteweuia’, for that was the name of a rugged rock standing out from the sandy shore; the main body of the fairies kept hauling at the net, and Kahukura pulled away in the midst of them.

 

When the first fish reached the shore, thrown up in the ripple driven before the net as they hauled it in, the fairies had not yet remarked Kahukura, for he was almost as fair as they were. It was just at the very first peep of dawn that the fish were all landed, and the fairies ran hastily to pick them up from the sand, and to haul the net up on the beach. They did not act with their fish as men do, dividing them into separate loads for each, but everyone took up what fish he liked, and ran a twig through their gills, and as they strung the fish, they continued calling out: ‘Make haste, run here, all of you, and finish the work before the sun rises.’

 

Kahukura kept on stringing his fish with the rest of them. He had only a very short string, and, making a slip-knot at the end of it, when he had covered the string with fish, he lifted them up, but had hardly raised them from the ground when the slip-knot gave way from the weight of the fish, and off they fell; then some of the fairies ran good-naturedly to help him to string his fish again, and one of them tied the knot at the end of the string for him, but the fairy had hardly gone after knotting it, before Kahukura had unfastened it, and again tied a slip-knot at the end; then he began stringing his fish again, and when he had got a great many on, up he lifted them, and off they slipped as before. This trick he repeated several times, and delayed the fairies in their work by getting them to knot his string for him, and put his fish on it. At last full daylight broke, so that there was light enough to distinguish a man’s face, and the fairies saw that Kahukura was a man; then they dispersed in confusion, leaving their fish and their net, and abandoning their canoes, which were nothing but stems of the flax. In a moment the fairies started for their own abodes; in their hurry, as has just been said, they abandoned their net, which was made of rushes; and off the good people fled as fast as they could go. Now was first discovered the stitch for netting a net, for they left theirs with Kahukura, and it became a pattern for him. He thus taught his children to make nets, and by them the Maori race were made acquainted with that art, which they have now known from very remote times.

 

——————-

From “Polynesian Mythology Ancient Traditional History Of The New Zealanders” (Maori Folklore and Legends) by Sir George Grey

ISBN: 978-1-907256-31-8

URL: http://www.abelapublishing.com/cg_pmath.html

 

 

 

MAUI AND TUNA – A Tale from Polynesia

Today we travel back across the international date line and take a look at a tale, or myth, from “the Legends of Maui”. Maui being a Polynesian demi god (there is an island in the Hawaiian islands named after him.) What is interesting about Polynesian folklore and mythology is that from Hawaii to Fiji to the Maori of Aotearoa, or New Zealand, to the Samoan islands and all of Polynesia and Micronesia, these legends are almost without fault uniform. Today’s tale is titled

MAUI AND TUNA.

 

WHEN Maui returned from the voyages in which he discovered or “fished up” from the ocean depths new islands, he gave deep thought to the things he had found. As the islands appeared to come out of the water he saw they were inhabited. There were houses and stages for drying and preserving food. He was greeted by barking dogs. Fires were burning, food cooking and people working. He evidently had gone so far away from home that a strange people was found. The legend which speaks of the death of his brothers, “eaten” by the great fish drawn up from the floor of the sea, may very easily mean that the new people killed and ate the brothers.

Maui apparently learned some new lessons, for on his return he quickly established a home of his own, and determined to live after the fashion of the families in the new islands.

Maui sought Hina-a-te-lepo, “daughter of the swamp,” and secured her as his wife. The New Zealand tribes tell legends which vary in different localities about this woman Hina. She sometimes bore the name Rau-kura–“The red plume.”

She cared for his thatched house as any other Polynesian woman was in the habit of doing. She attempted the hurried task of cooking his food before he snared the sun and gave her sufficient daylight for her labors.

They lived near the bank of a river from which Hina was in the habit of bringing water for the household needs.

One day she went down to the stream with her calabash. She was entwined with wreaths of leaves and flowers, as was the custom among Polynesian women. While she was standing on the bank, Tuna-roa, “the long eel,” saw her. He swam up to the bank and suddenly struck her and knocked her into the water and covered her with slime from the blow given by his tail.

Hina escaped and returned to her home, saying nothing to Maui about the trouble. But the next day, while getting water, she was again overthrown and befouled by the slime of Tuna-roa.

Then Hina became angry and reported the trouble to Maui.

Maui decided to punish the long eel and started out to find his hiding place. Somie of the New Zealand legends as collected by White, state that Tuna-roa was a very smooth skinned chief, who lived on the opposite bank of the stream, and, seeing Hina, had insulted her.

When Maui saw this chief, he caught two pieces of wood over which he was accustomed to slide his canoe into the sea. These he carried to the stream and laid them from bank to bank as a bridge over which he might entice Tuna-roa to cross.

Maui took his stone axe, Ma-Tori-Tori, “the severer,” and concealed himself near the bank of the river.

When “the long eel” had crossed the stream, Maui rushed out and killed him with a mighty blow of the stone axe, cutting the head from the body.

Other legends say that Maui found Tuna-roa living as an eel in a deep water hole, in a swamp on the seacoast of Tata-a, part of the island Ao-tea-roa. Other stories located Tuna-roa in the river near Maui’s home.

Maui saw that he could not get at his enemy without letting off the water which protected him.

Therefore into the forest went Maui, and with sacred ceremonies, selected trees from the wood of which he prepared tools and weapons.

Meanwhile, in addition to the insult given to Hina, Tuna-roa had caught and devoured two of Maui’s children, which made Maui more determined to kill him.

Maui made the narrow spade (named by the Maoris of New Zealand the “ko,” and by the Hawaiians “o-o”) and the sharp spears, with which to pierce either the earth or his enemy. These spears and spades were consecrated to the work of preparing a ditch by which to draw off the water protecting “the long eel.”

The work of trench-making was accomplished with many incantations and prayers. The ditch was named “The sacred digging,” and was tabooed to all other purposes except that of catching Tuna-roa.

Across this ditch Maui stretched a strong net, and then began a new series of chants and ceremonies to bring down an abundance of rain. Soon the flood came and the overflowing waters rushed down the sacred ditch. The walls of the deep pool gave way and “the long eel” was carried down the trench into the waiting net. Then there was commotion. Tuna-roa was struggling for freedom.

Maui saw him and hastened to grasp his stone axe, “the severer.” Hurrying to the net, he struck Tuna-roa a terrible blow, and cut off the head. With a few more blows, he cut the body in pieces. The head and tail were carried out into the sea. The head became fish and the tail became the great conger-eel. Other parts of the body became sea monsters. But some parts which fell in fresh water became the common eels. From the hairs of the head came certain vines and creepers among the plants.

After the death of Tuna-roa the offspring of Maui were in no danger of being killed and soon multiplied into a large family.

Another New Zealand legend related by White says that Maui built a sliding place of logs, over which Tuna-roa must pass when coming from the river.

Maui also made a screen behind which he could secrete himself while watching for Tuna-roa.

He commanded Hina to come down to the river and wait on the bank to attract Tuna-roa. Soon the long eel was seen in the water swimming near to Hina. Hina went to a place back of the logs which Maui had laid down.

Tuna-roa came towards her, and began to slide down the skids.

Maui sprang out from his hiding place and killed Tuna-roa with his axe, and cut him in pieces.

The tail became the conger-eel. Parts of his body became fresh-water eels. Some of the blood fell upon birds and always after marked them with red spots. Some of the blood was thrown into certain trees, making this wood always red. The muscles became vines and creepers.

From this time the children of Maui caught and ate the eels of both salt and fresh water. Eel traps were made, and Maui taught the people the proper chants or incantations to use when catching eels.

This legend of Maui and the long eel was found by White in a number of forms among the different tribes of New Zealand, but does not seem to have had currency in many other island groups.

In Turner’s “Samoa” a legend is related which was probably derived from the Maui stories and yet differs in its romantic results. The Samoans say that among their ancient ones dwelt a woman named Sina. Sina among the Polynesians is the same as Hina–the “h” is softened into “s”. She captured a small eel and kept it as a pet. It grew large and strong and finally attacked and bit her. She fled, but the eel followed her everywhere. Her father came to her assistance and raised high mountains between the eel and herself.

But the eel passed over the barrier and pursued her. Her mother raised a new series of mountains. But again the eel surmounted the difficulties and attempted to seize Sina. She broke away from him and ran on and on. Finally she wearily passed through a village. The people asked her to stay and eat with them, but she said they could only help her by delivering her from the pursuing eel. The inhabitants of that village were afraid of the eel and refused to fight for her. So she ran on to another place. Here the chief offered her a drink of water and promised to kill the eel for her. He prepared awa, a stupefying drink, and put poison in it. When the eel came along the chief asked him to drink. He took the awa and prepared to follow Sina. When he came to the place where she was the pains of death had already seized him. While dying he begged her to bury his head by her home. This she did, and in time a plant new to the islands sprang up. It became a tree, and finally produced a cocoanut, whose two eyes could continually look into the face of Sina.

Tuna, in the legends of Fiji, was a demon of the sea. He lived in a deep sea cave, into which he sometimes shut himself behind closed doors of coral. When he was hungry, he swam through the ocean shadows, always watching the restless surface. When a canoe passed above him, he would throw himself swiftly through the waters, upset the canoe, and seize some of the boatmen and devour them. He was greatly feared by all the fishermen of the Fijian coasts.

Roko-a mo-o or dragon god-in his journey among the islands, stopped at a village by the sea and asked for a canoe and boatmen. The people said: “We have nothing but a very old canoe out there by the water.” He went to it and found it in a very bad condition. He put it in the water, and decided that he could use it. Then he asked two men to go with him and paddle, but they refused because of fear, and explained this fear by telling the story of the water demon, who continually sought the destruction of this canoe, and also their own death. Roko encouraged them to take him to wage battle with Tuna, telling them he would destroy the monster. They paddled until they were directly over Tuna’s cave. Roko told them to go off to one side and wait and watch, saying: “I am going down to see this Tuna. If you see red blood boil up through the water, you may be sure that Tuna has been killed. If the blood is black, then you will know that he has the victory and I am dead.”

Roko leaped into the water and went down-down to the door of the cave. The coral doors were closed. He grasped them in his strong hands and tore them open, breaking them in pieces. Inside he found cave after cave of coral, and broke his way through until at last he awoke Tuna. The angry demon cried: “Who is that?” Roko answered: “It is I, Roko, alone. Who are you?”

Tuna aroused himself and demanded Roko’s business and who guided him to that place. Roko replied: “No one has guided me. I go from place to place, thinking that there is no one else in the world.”

Tuna shook himself angrily. “Do you think I am nothing? This day is your last.”

Roko replied: “Perhaps so. If the sky falls, I shall die.”

Tuna leaped upon Roko and bit him. Then came the mighty battle of the coral caves. Roko broke Tuna into several pieces–and the red blood poured in boiling bubbles upward through the clear ocean waters, and the boatmen cried: “The blood is red the blood is red–Tuna is dead by the hand of Roko.”

Roko lived for a time in Fiji, where his descendants still find their home. The people use this chant to aid them in difficulties:

My load is a red one.
It points in front to Kawa (Roko’s home).
Behind, it points to Dolomo–(a village on another island).”

In the Hawaiian legends, Hina was Maui’s mother rather than his wife, and Kuna (Tuna) was a mo-o, a dragon or gigantic lizard possessing miraculous powers.

Hina’s home was in the large cave under the beautiful Rainbow Falls near the city of Hilo. Above the falls the bed of the river is along the channel of an ancient lava flow. Sometimes the water pours in a torrent over the rugged lava, sometimes it passes through underground passages as well as along the black river bed, and sometimes it thrusts itself into boiling pools.

Maui lived on the northern side of the river, but a chief named Kuna-moo-a dragon-lived in the boiling pools. He attacked Hina and threw a dam across the river below Rainbow Falls, intending to drown Hina in her cave. The great ledge of rock filled the river bed high up the bank on the Hilo side of the river. Hina called on Maui for aid. Maui came quickly and with mighty blows cut out a new channel for the river–the path it follows to this day. The waters sank and Hina remained unharmed in her cave.

The place where Kuna dwelt was called Wai-kuna -the Kuna water. The river in which Hina and Kuna dwelt bears the name Wailuku–“the destructive water.” Maui went above Kuna’s home and poured hot water into the river. This part of the myth could easily have arisen from a lava outburst on the side of the volcano above the river. The hot water swept in a flood over Kuna’s home. Kuna jumped from the boiling pools over a series of small falls near his home into the river below. Here the hot water again scalded him and in pain he leaped from the river to the bank, where Maui killed him by beating him with a club. His body was washed down the river over the falls under which Hina dwelt, into the ocean.

The story of Kuna or Tuna is a legend with a foundation in the enmity between two chiefs of the long ago, and also in a desire to explain the origin of the family of eels and the invention of nets and traps.

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From “The Legends of Ma-ui” – ISBN 978-1-907256-95-0

URL http://www.abelapublishing.com/cg_lom.html