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18 January 1843 – Fr Claude-André Baty to Fr Denis Maîtrepierre, Bay of Islands

Based on the letter sent. APM z 208.

Translated by Azure GPT 4.0 & Merv Duffy, December 2024.

Bay of Islands, New Zealand, 18 Jan 1843.

J(esus) M(ary) J(oseph)

To Rev. Fr. Maîtrepierre

Dear Reverend and Very Dear Father,

[1]

What joy it was for me when, returning to the Bay of Islands after an absence of 13 months spent almost entirely in continuous travels and without news, not even from the mission here, I was handed your dear letter dated October 10, 1841, on August 24, 1842!^[1] Please accept my sincere thanks for all the good things you say to me, both regarding my advancement in perfection and for the news you relate, which, far from providing me with subjects for frivolous distractions, are for me great motives for salutary reflections and encouragement.

[2]

If I have waited so long to respond to you, please believe that it was not indifference but rather an abundance of urgent occupations that caused the delay. May Jesus and Mary be known, praised, and loved. If we can glimpse the loving designs of Providence, I believe we can say that we are approaching the end of a long and distressing trial, but always amiable since we must think that it is according to the designs of our sovereign Master. It is to be hoped that after having participated in what the great apostle said, "tædet nos etiam vivere,"^[2] we will be able to see by the effect that we must also say: "omnia possum in eo qui me confortat."^[3]

[3]

A brochure of 56 pages in the language of New Zealand has been published, and the downcast hearts, the disgusted minds have risen as from a tomb; the tireless zeal of Bishop Pompallier is currently achieving unexpected successes in the Hokianga station. For several weeks now, there has hardly been a day here that does not provide us with great consolations; there are tribes buried in the most dreadful indifference that are taking an admirable leap; there are individuals and sometimes parts of tribes that are returning from error to truth. The Anglican bishop^[4] has made almost a half-tour of New Zealand on foot without any mention of the changes he has made in minds. Divine Providence has coincided the appearance of the Catholic book with measures adopted by the Anglicans that greatly displease the New Zealanders, such as collecting their money when they go to participate in the communion! May the good Lord draw glory from His enemies! It is to be hoped that with help from above and the charity of the faithful, the other stations in New Zealand will take on a different face. We must wait with patience, vigilance, zeal, and prayer! The poor ignorant New Zealanders, seduced by the appearance of love and truth, who were once so haughty against their Catholic compatriots and against us, are now downcast and disappointed; as time reveals the secrets of the heart, the misguided minds are beginning to see a truth that they could not perceive before and that they did not want to believe when it was preached to them. Undoubtedly, those of our confreres who have already received their crown, prostrated at the feet of the thrones of Jesus and Mary, ask for the conversion of the souls they have come to seek from so far as the price of their sufferings! You are therefore quite right to remind me of these comforting and instructive words: “Let not your heart be troubled.”[ Cf. John 14:1] “He will not allow the righteous to be moved forever.”[ Psalm 55(54):23] May God grant, when it pleases Him, the increase to the work of His servants and may He give them the sentiments and all the qualities they must have.

[5]

To prolong the pleasure I have in conversing with you, my dear Reverend Father, for your consolation and even for your edification, I want to extract from my journal the particulars of a journey and a stay I made to the south of East Cape in this northern part of New Zealand.

[6]

On September 30, 1841, Bishop Pompallier landed me at the peninsula of Mahia where I was to stay for about three weeks, from where the mission ship was to take me back to Auckland; but in the meantime, having learned of the martyrdom of Father Chanel, he made the journey to the tropics and I remained at my post alone, amidst the natives, the shortage of brothers and lack of funds not allowing for a companion to be left with me. But, marvelous thing! Religion unites hearts; the poor catechumens, who were no more than a hundred in this place, the others having returned to their countries from which war had once driven them, these catechumens became for me as many children as soon as they were able to associate with me.

[7]

The interactions I had with the natives of the Anglican religion sparked great conversations and led to a solemn conference between a minister and me.^[5] The fruit was satisfactory for what one can ordinarily expect from such struggles: it was that several learned to distrust the lies that are spread, others understood the truth more clearly, and others took sides for the truth in words without embracing it through their actions, all concluding among themselves that those who had a different belief had no right to attack or torment the Catholics to make them turn to them. Nevertheless, two days later, they tormented many of their own to engage them irrevocably in error by receiving baptism; they came to take from my modest dwelling to lead them to baptism. It seems that the theology of this minister was very accommodating; he baptized the young people and all those who could have become Catholics, but there was no mention of children or the elderly, and during my stay in this place, I had the sorrow of seeing many die, almost all without baptism; I only managed to baptize one child.

[8]

The distrust towards me had been so instilled in them that several did not want to receive the little sugar and tea that I brought them; they told me that I had kindness for them to make them Catholics. A people blinded to the point of compassion! On Good Friday, I brought a little sugar and tea to a very sick child, half a league from my residence. The father never wanted to receive them because I had brought them on a forbidden day! And the catechist received me, treating me as a servant of the devil who tempted men. For defense, I had patience and compassion. But as much as the blindness of those people afflicted me, the sentiments of the Catholics consoled me.

[9]

On November 4, the greatest chief of the Catholics who lived an hour from my place, having learned that I was to return, came early in the morning, all out of breath with his son about 12 years old, and told me that he had heard that I was to leave and that he had only slept and awakened in a start all night. I assured him that I was not leaving, and he returned content.

[10]

10 On October 17, having received no news from the Bishop, I set out on a long journey to the south and the high mountains of the interior; I was accompanied by 18 natives. I took with me everything necessary to administer the sacraments and offer the holy sacrifice, and after praying with the entire assembled tribe and giving a word of exhortation, we set out; one of the principal chiefs was with me, who was to be my introducer to the chiefs we wanted to see; he had previously traveled this path with rifles and powder on his back during the times of war, and now he was doing it with a small handwritten brochure. We walked, my companions dressed lightly, that is to say, with a blanket or a Māori garment around their waists and a bundle of belongings on their backs; others had potatoes, provisions for the whole group, and others carried my liturgical items.

[11]

Around noon, we crossed the isthmus and walked into the bay of Te Mahia, breathing in the smell of whale carcasses lying on the sand where they had washed ashore from the hands of fishermen stationed on both sides of this bay. Two hours later, we had crossed a mountain ridge and were in the immense bay that seemed endless; it is called by the English Hawke’s Bay and by the Māori Moana tangi roa, the sea of long noise; indeed, the sea makes a very loud noise there with the rolling of its waves that come in whirlpools, folding in on themselves and dying on the shifting sand that the Almighty has set as an insurmountable barrier to their fury. We first found a river that was quite narrow and shallow but difficult to cross due to its current and the sand that does not allow one to stay in one place because it is too shifting, and one sinks if they stop. Natives have sometimes been swept away into the open sea and killed by the waves. I rolled up my trousers as much as I could and without wanting to resist the current, I crossed with water up to my waist, making as much distance in length as in width of the river, and I came out near the sea. There, as in many places in this bay, the shore is just a ridge of sand hardened by the salt water; behind it are large freshwater lakes where eels abound. When night fell, we stopped, cooked potatoes, prayed, sang a waiata, and each of us lay down on our blanket spread out on the sand.

[12]

The next day after prayer, we set out again, bought eels in a small village of heretics, and went to have our breakfast around 10 in the morning. Around two o'clock, we arrived at Te Wairoa (long water). This was the second time I had seen this place.^[6] We walked on a ridge of sand, with the sea on the left and a large bay on the right; at the back rose a pa called Kaipuke (ship). It indeed looks as if it is floating on the waters and has been threatened several times to be swept away by the waters. It was planted there during the times of war or rather of slaughter, in the early days when the New Zealanders had rifles. As we approached, one notices a large number of statues, all more bizarre and indecent than the others, armed with all sorts of instruments presenting all sorts of positions, all designed to frighten the viewer. Although this place had not seen other priests except during a brief stay I had made there two months earlier,^[7] there were previously Catholics there; we were well received. We spent Sunday the 19th there, and I had the happiness of offering the holy victim for the first time in this place. I explained the most striking ceremonies to them. I showed them my little chapel, which filled them with great admiration.

[13]

On the 20th, we boarded a canoe of natives and ascended the beautiful river of Te Wairoa, which pleasantly winds through a valley between two mountains. From time to time, we encountered scattered kainga (villages) along the beautiful banks of this river, which is a little smaller than the Seine near its mouth but becomes much smaller after a few leagues. We found a large number of large trees lying about 20 feet or so below the level of the shore, turned across the river; if they are not traces of the flood, they are at least proof of great floods that must have cluttered the river with these trees and diverted its bed. I have seen the same thing in several other places in New Zealand.

[14]

The Māori also told me that they found large bones while digging in the earth.^[8] We arrived at a confluence, the right leading to mountains where they say there are what they call moa, which can be referred to in French as the immobiles. It is a fabulous story of the land that says that in a crevice of a steep rock, there is a being with a human form and long hair that feeds on wind,^[9] living continuously in its lair; its guardians are immense serpents.

[15]

The branch to the left is called Waiau (running water). The water is indeed swift. There, we left the paddles and propelled the canoe upstream using our arms with the help of long poles. We stopped there to eat, and I distributed objects of piety and a few other trifles to the natives who, although not Christians, are well-disposed towards the Catholic faith. We arrived in the evening at a kainga that was largely Catholic, but the people were not there. Some of my companions went a little further where they found some rotten corn in the water for our supper.

[16]

The next day we set out again and arrived at E Toru Upoko (three heads) where all the natives were Catholics; we were announced there, and upon our arrival, a large umu or cooking fire was lit and awaited its victim, which was no longer grunting. I speak to you of the material; the spiritual aspect depended on the dispositions of the individuals; I explained the main truths of the religion, I refuted the lies of the enemies of the truth, two matters that cannot be easily separated; I distributed medals, rosaries, and small books. I showed them the embellishments of the great prayer, etc.

[17]

On the 22nd, we ascended the river again. We found, as on the previous day, rows of stakes that spanned the entire width of the river, leaving only narrow passages for the canoes; these palisades are made to catch small fish and are shaped like VVV; with the current running from 1 to 2, it is difficult to navigate these narrow openings, and one risks filling the canoe due to the bubbling of the water; it also requires a lot of caution to descend. If one touches one side, there is a risk of capsizing. At noon, we found a confluence. We took the right fork, the river called Wai Au Taheke (running water with rapids). There we found a Catholic kainga where I did as elsewhere. Shortly after, we disembarked to go overland; the group then consisted of about 30 people. Two of my companions who were coming overland, having not taken their precautions to cross the river, were swept away and thrown to the other side at a bend in the river. One of them lost his blanket; if you fall while crossing this river, you can hardly get back up because of the current.

[18]

We walked through fern-covered hills and arrived at the edge of the river we had left. I was a bit embarrassed, but recommending myself to God and to the Holy Virgin, freeing my legs as much as possible to be more agile in the water, I crossed this cold river with water just below my waist. We were back on our way through the ferns. We encountered an umu (a type of cooking oven) whose stones were still well arranged; my companions said to me without hesitation: "There is an umu tangata (oven where men have been cooked)." This circumstance led me to deeper reflections than those I was already occupied with; I considered the difference that existed between our journey and so many others that had taken place along this same path, me at peace, like the father of my large company, adorned with the august character of the priesthood, carrying with me sacred ornaments, bread, and wine to shed the blood of the august victim in these places once soaked with human blood. We were well into the mountains, far from any habitation, in a deserted place; all these circumstances provided me with beautiful and useful reflections.

[19]

Finally, as the day was declining, we arrived at the edge of a forest; there was a kainga that was half Catholic and half Protestant; we were well received by both sides; we slept under the shelter of the large trees that served as our canopy. The next day, a pig was killed for breakfast, and we continued on our way.

[20]

We had been climbing the mountains for an hour when I was told that just off the path there was a tupuna (ancestor). I crossed into the forest with my guides, and soon we arrived at the edge of a dreadful precipice. There, the river we had followed from the sea was narrowed between two very close rocks and flowed with a roar about 200 feet below these steep rocks; they told me that there lay Haumapuhia,^[10] who, having refused to give his father a drink, was thrown by him into the lake (which I will speak of later) and caused the rocks of the mountains through which this lake drains to break and was swept to this place where he was turned to stone; they claim to see a human figure in a rock below, but I could not see it because to do so, one had to climb like them on the bare trunk of a tree leaning over the precipice. The noise that exists in this place can be heard for several leagues, as they assured me, and serves as their barometer.

[21]

We continued to ascend, we passed a small lake and arrived at the kainga that is on Lake Waikare (bubbling water). ,^[11] We were given a most solemn reception. There were very few natives present, their main dwelling being on the other shore. It was Thursday, the day before Christmas.^[12] The strong wind that prevailed made the lake impassable; we stayed there. Lake Waikare located at the summit of the mountains and surrounded by very high mountain peaks, some of which are steeply cut, seems to threaten to plunge into the abyss. This lake is bottomless except in the middle where the depth is about 50 feet. It drains through an opening 6 to 7 feet wide between the rocks of a steep mountain. There, a nearly constant wind reigns, and it seems that the current of the water establishes a strong air current because I have seen the trees, in calm weather, maintain the same shape they have when the wind bends all their branches in the same direction. It is as if divided into two parts which, when combined, can be 4 to 5 leagues long with a very uneven width of one and a half to half a league. The water is very cold, and many natives perish there because when the waves fill a canoe, the cold seizes them, and they must die victims of the cold. Two species of small fish can be found there.

[22]

On the 24th, a Protestant missionary from the Bay of Islands arrived,^[13] who furiously attacked the Catholic natives first and then me, spreading the most gross lies, but he was punished and, far from achieving his goal, he strongly alienated them. This conference revolved around ordinary matters. I celebrated Christmas in this place, and the next day the lake was calm enough to allow us to cross.

[23]

We were received as usual; there were only a few heretics among the fervent Catholics in the midst of their forests and ignorance. The bad weather kept us there. I instructed, baptized children, and distributed some objects of piety and others. There, especially upon seeing the holy mass celebrated, they kept repeating: "It is now that we see the trunk of prayer, it is now that we see the reality; until now we had only the shadow." The Protestants do not have these things; they have the words in their book that they sell for potatoes and pigs, but in this religion, the words of the books are presented to the eyes, like a mirror. All these reflections were their own, and I found myself in school, for I was learning the expressions and the way to present certain things in order to impress the natives.

[24]

Finally, on the 29th, we crossed a branch of the lake and plunged into immense forests, whose origins may date back to before the flood. We climbed mountains, walking on roots that concealed a ground of coarse sand. Upon reaching the top of the mountain, my leading chief felt a tingling in his arm and said to me: "I am going to meet my old enemies; my god foretells it to me." (Note that although they are Christians, the natives still retain their way of calling god the tricks of Satan; this language, which dances around the idea of those who have faith, has no other meaning as they themselves say; little by little they are getting used to correcting their speech. Here, as in other infidel countries that I know, all their gods are evil and seek only to harm them, which is useful to endear them to the true God who has only goodness for His creatures.) We advanced into this ao pouri (dark world) and could barely see a bit of the sky through the thick foliage; we descended into a deep and narrow valley, and as we climbed back up, my companions warned me that we were approaching a sacred place. Our group then consisted of 40 to 50 people. Indeed, we soon saw an old tree they call tipuna (ancestor),^[14] which is the same as a god. They once claimed that the god of good and bad weather resided there, and that he could grant good weather to travelers at will. Now, since the weather is very bad in these mountains almost continuously due to rain, winds, snow, and ice, the Māori used to offer and still offer (those who are pagan) sacrifices to this god to obtain good weather. These sacrifices consist of throwing grass plants or branches of trees at the foot of this tree; there were some on the ground when we passed by. My companions told me that their thoughts were on me; I gave them a small instruction relevant to the circumstance. We said a Pater and an Ave and continued our cheerful journey through mountains and ravines.

[ Author's note in the margin ]

Until now, I have not been able to discover other sacrifices in New Zealand, except when a pa was taken by combatants; they would cook a man whom only the priests would eat after offering him to their gods.]

[25]

Upon reaching the summit of all the mountains, we could see the sea and the land from which we had come; there, the trees are only 12 to 15 feet high, and their branches are perfectly horizontal, forming a sort of floor above. Beyond, the waters had a different current and flowed into the sea at the Bay of Plenty. In the evening, we arrived at a place where potatoes were grown, but there was no one there. After supper and the evening exercises, the ancient trees sheltered us from the calm and a light rain. There was, however, a small hut in the area. In the morning, my aforementioned chief told me again that his god had warned him that he would meet his enemies and that he had felt a tingling in his nose. I teased him in a way that would not offend him as I had done the first time, without positively denying that he might find his enemies, which could happen by chance or even that the evil spirit might intervene to maintain the old superstitions.

[26]

We set out in the morning. We found not far from there a kainga whose natives were Protestant; they invited us to breakfast, which is never refused among the New Zealanders. There we heard gunshots and learned that people from Waikato were arriving. My chief then reminded me of what he had told me the day before and that morning. I paid no attention to what he said because it was not the time to instruct him; they were his old enemies, but there was nothing to their meeting, as both sides were Catholic.

[27]

We were on our way through the forest, and around noon we arrived at a place where there was a small clearing without trees. There stood a fully Catholic pa where we were received in the best possible way; on a small elevation stood a beautiful little chapel that they had built of their own accord. Never had a priest appeared there when I arrived on October 30. In his speech, the chief spoke to me and said that I would be well received if I brought them a full box of books. As a present, he offered me a bottle of rum and a Catholic book, or rather a rag from which one could not find half a complete page. He told me that was all that remained for them. I distributed books, rosaries, medals, needles, small knives, and small mirrors; and we were all in the height of joy. I was continually overwhelmed with questions related to religion; they covered me with confusion by their eagerness to know the details of the passion and death of our divine Savior; the names of all who had figured in it, the name of the wood of the cross, etc. They had a great number of superstitions that they had received as truths from a native who had been baptized long ago at the Bay of Islands and who wanted to make them believe by spreading his fables. At the evening prayer, when we reached the mea culpa, I felt as if I were transported to Chile upon hearing the repeated and prolonged thumps they gave themselves on the chest. I had the happiness of baptizing a few children.

[28]

On January 3, 1842, the same Anglican missionary I had seen at Waikare, who was following the same direction as I was, arrived with about fifteen natives; he came to attack the Catholics, but he was more than ever ridiculed by all the Catholics. He returned, all red and steaming with rage, threatening us with the wrath of God. During the discussion, he had placed his Bible on the ground to be our judge, but his book remained silent, not even irritated by the revolting lies he was uttering. He solemnly prophesied that in two years there would be no more Catholic religion in New Zealand. According to him, the Anglican religion had been preached by Saint Paul in England, but he did not concede that Saint Peter had gone and died in Rome; that was his historical knowledge. Among his group was a man who had once abused one of the wives of the Catholic chief; this chief, seeing this man in the crowd, was seized with anger; he simply formed the plan to slit his throat, but in true New Zealand fashion, he communicated his intention to his neighbor and went into the house to sharpen a knife. This neighbor warned the culprit, who took flight. The chief came out, furious, with the knife in hand, but his adversary had disappeared. He struggled and got angry, then calmed down.

[29]

We finally set off again on January 4 to return. On the 9th, at 11 o'clock, we were in a forest two leagues at most from our residence. The weather was perfectly beautiful. I had wood set up to serve as an altar, which I adorned with foliage, and I had the happiness of bringing down the unblemished lamb amidst the joyful songs of my group, who were filled with joy. In the afternoon, we arrived with great solemnity at our home where the Catholics had gathered for Sunday prayer. We entered the house without saying anything. After the prayers of thanksgiving for 23 days of travel, love overflowed in mutual greetings and sobs. It is for you, my reverend father, to penetrate the heart of the missionary; you know it has been said that where there is love, there is no suffering; the fatigue of the body is not felt when the spirit loves these pains!

[30]

I must tell you a word about the solemn receptions of the New Zealanders. In places where European customs have prevailed, people touch hands, even the natives among themselves, except on the most solemn occasions. In the places I mentioned in my letter, European customs are not yet in force. When we arrived in a place, we were usually announced, the largest house was prepared, the people of the place would gather outside, on the roofs, etc., and they would shout with all their might (which is customary everywhere): "Come, come, haere mai, haere mai," making gestures to call us, shaking their blankets in their hands, or their cloaks when they had them. We arrived gravely without saying a word, took our place in the house that was indicated; then everything outside would fall silent; after taking a breath, the chief of the place would rise, giving a speech where he would usually explain why we had come and what we had come to talk to them about. When he finished, my leading chief would rise, go outside, run as is customary, explain why we had come, etc., recounting what he had seen in these lands before, etc. The speeches were always preceded by a song; those of my chief were always religious songs to indicate first why he was making this visit. I did not give a welcoming speech myself; I reserved myself for later. When all the speeches were finished, everyone outside would enter in a line and make a complete tour of the house, pressing their noses against those of their hosts, and sometimes they would shake hands and noses; there, seated on a mat, I could not properly refuse them this token of affection. After the greetings, conversations would follow. Otherwise, the customs, except for the nose kiss regarding Europeans in places frequented by them, are the same throughout New Zealand.

[31]

I would like to tell you many other things, but time is lacking. I earnestly recommend myself to your prayers and those of the entire Society.

[32]

I have the honor to be, in union with J(esu)s and M(ary), your very humble and devoted servant,

Baty, apostolic vicar.

Notes

1. ↑ Baty returned to the Bay of Islands on August 24, 1842, from the mission of Māhia, where he had spent "ten months minus a few days," from September 30, 1841, to July 10, 1842 (cf. document 216, § 1-2; 233, § 5 and 13; and below, § 6). On the way, he stayed several days during August 1842 in Auckland with Father Forest and Brother Déodat (cf. document 186, § 3, 5).
2. ↑ Cf. 2 Corinthians 1:8: "For we do not want you to be unaware, brothers, of the affliction we experienced in Asia, for we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself."
3. ↑ Philippians 4:13: "I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.”
4. ↑ George Augustus Selwyn (1809-1878), the first Anglican bishop of New Zealand, arrived in Auckland on May 30, 1842 (cf. document 178, § 3 and note 8).
5. ↑ This "conference" took place on October 13, 1841, near Nukutaurua on the "Table Cape" (Mahia Peninsula), according to the journal of William Williams (cf. Edgcumbe, p. 1; Porter, p. 180 and note 7). It was therefore a "conference" different from those on December 24, 1841, and January 3, 1842 (cf. infra , § 22 and 28). Note that the author mentions it before discussing his missionary tour during which he went to Lake Waikaremoana (cf. infra , § 21, n. 14) where the conferences of December 1841 and January 1842 will take place. Here it is a first conference in the vicinity of the Catholic station on the Mahia Peninsula, and the Anglican minister with whom Baty enters into "conference" was William Williams (1800-1878), whom Baty mentions in a letter to Claude Girard (cf. doc. 114, § 6-7 and n. 7; see also the unpublished letter from Baty to Jean-Baptiste Épalle dated October 30, 1841, APM OOc 418.22). Note that the "Protestant missionary from the Bay of Islands" to whose attacks Baty responds on December 24, 1841, and again on January 3, 1842 (cf. infra, § 22 and 28) is not William Williams, who has his base residence in Turanga (Gisborne), about sixty kilometers north of Mahia (cf. Dictionary of NZ Biography , vol. 1, p. 598); it would rather be Henry Williams, head of the Anglican mission in New Zealand (cf. doc. 86, § 3, n. 3, and doc. 118, § 15, n. 14), or perhaps William Colenso (1811-1899), printer for the Church Missionary Society in Paihia in the Bay of Islands: it is certain that during a long journey in 1841, the latter meets Father Baty near Lake Waikaremoana (cf. Encyclopaedia of NZ , vol. 2, p. 32).
6. ↑ On December 19, 1841, during this second visit to Te Wairoa, the author wrote a letter to Father Épalle in Kororareka (unpublished: APM OOc 418.22). For his first visit to Te Wairoa, see the following note.
7. ↑ Baty mentions this first visit to Te Wairoa in his letter of October 25, 1841, to Father Girard (cf. doc. 114, § 9) and in his letters of October 8, 1841 (§ 1) and October 30, 1841 (§ 1) to Father Épalle at the Bay of Islands (unpublished letters: APM OOc 418.22).
8. ↑ The "large bones" may be those of the moa (dinornis gigantea ), an indigenous bird of New Zealand. The race of giant species disappeared around 1500 AD; bones were being discovered as early as the 1830s (cf. article "Moa," Encyclopaedia of NZ , vol. 2, p. 575). See also the following note
9. ↑ Elsdon Best recounts this story in Tuhoe: the Children of the Mist , 3rd ed. (Wellington: Reed, 1977), pp. 153-4: "Let me tell you about that person that killed Apa, that moa. Those folk [the moa] were like men, for they had two legs, two arms, a head and a mouth. They stood on one leg, the other leg being drawn up. The mouth was always open. It lived on air, and always stood with its open mouth facing the wind. Those folk who stood on one leg are now no more. Our ancestors destroyed them. Their bones were as large as those of a cow."
10. ↑ See "The Legend of Hau-Mapuhia" in Elsdon Best, Waikare-moana. The Sea of the Rippling Waters (Wellington: Government Printer, 1975), pp. 55-8. This name means breath (hau ) that exhales/flows (mapuhia ) (information received from Peter Tremewan in June 2008).
11. ↑ Most likely Lake Waikaremoana, the source of the Waiau River, rather than the smaller neighboring Lake Waikareiti (cf. supra , § 15, and also note 7 in § 7)
12. ↑ Thursday, December 23, 1841.
13. ↑ William Colenso (cf. supra , § 7, n. 7).
14. ↑ This Māori word means "ancestor" or "grandparent." In § 20, the author writes tupuna ; here, tipuna . The form tupuna is found in the northern and western dialects; tipuna , in the eastern and southern ones; one would expect to find the form tipuna in the region around Waikaremoana and Mahia (information received from Peter Tremewan on June 28, 2008). For this phenomenon of a tree inhabited by a spirit that influences the weather, see Margaret Orbell, The Natural World of the Maori (Auckland: Bateman, 1985), p. 169: "And sometimes a tree or a rock was thought to be inhabited by a spirit, and people passing by would pluck a twig or fern frond as an offering. Strangers were especially careful to do this, but usually everyone did so, as there would otherwise be rain."