The Legend of Rata

Wahieroa had been treacherously slain by a chief named Matuku, so it became the duty of his young son Rata to revenge his father’s death. By the time he had grown up he had devised a plan for doing this, and gave the necessary orders to his followers. He then started on a journey. Arrived at the entrance to Matuku’s place he found a Man sitting in the courtyard who had been left in charge. “Where is the man who killed my father?” he asked. “He lives down in the earth and I call to warn him when the new moon appears. That is when he comes upon earth to do battle.” “How can he know when the proper time comes?” “I call to him in a loud voice.” “When will there be a new moon?” “In two nights. Return to your village, but come here again on the morning of the second day.” On the morning appointed, Rata returned and found the Man sitting in the same place. “Do you know any spot where I can conceal myself from the enemy with whom I am about to fight?” he inquired. The Man replied, “Come with me and I will show you the two fountains of clear water.” “This spot that we stand on,” said the Man, when they arrived at the place, “is the place where Matuku rises up from the earth, and yonder fountain is the one on which he combs and washes his dishevelled hair; but this fountain is the one he uses to reflect his face in while he dresses it. You can not kill him while he is at the fountain he uses to reflect his face in, because your shadow would also be reflected in it and he would see it; but at the fountain in which he washes his hair you may smite and slay him.” “Will he make his appearance this evening?” “Yes.” They had not waited long when the moon became visible and the Man told Rata to hide himself near the brink of the fountain in which Matuku would wash his hair. Then he shouted aloud, “Ho, ho, the new moon is visible—a moon two days old.” Matuku heard him and, seizing his two-handed wooden sword, rose from the earth. He laid his sword on the ground at the edge of the fountain where he dressed his hair, and kneeling down on both sides of it he loosened the strings which bound up his long locks, shook them out, and plunged his head into the clear cool water. Rata crept out from where he lay hid, and rapidly moved up and stood behind him. As Matuku raised his head above the water Rata with one hand seized him by the hair, while with the other he smote and slew him. “Where shall I find the bones of my father?” he next asked the Keeper. “They are not here; a strange people who live at a distance came and carried them off.” Upon hearing this reply Rata returned to his village to think matters over. He went to the forest and, having found a very tall tree that grew straight throughout its entire length, he felled it and cut its noble branching tops, intending to fashion the trunk into a canoe. The Insects which inhabit trees and the Spirits of the Forest were very angry at this, and as soon as Rata had returned to the village, when his day’s work was done, they took the tree and raised it up again. The multitude of Insects, Birds and Spirits worked away at replacing each little chip and shaving in its proper place, and sang as they worked: “Fly together, chips and shavings, Stick ye fast together, Hold ye fast together; Stand upright again, O tree.” Early the next morning Rata came back. When he got to the place where he had left the trunk lying on the ground, he could not at first find it. That fine tall straight tree, which he saw standing whole and sound, was the same he thought he had cut down, and there it was now, erect again; however, he stepped up to it and, hewing away, he felled it to the ground once more. Off he cut its fine branching top, and he began to hollow out the hold of the canoe, and round off the prow and the stern into their proper, gracefully curved forms. In the evening when it became too dark to work, he returned to his village. As soon as he was gone the multitudes of Insects, Birds and Spirits raised up the tree upon its stump once more. They sang as they worked, and when they had ended the tree again stood as sound as ever in its former place in the forest. Morning dawned, and Rata returned once more to work at his canoe. When he reached the place was not he amazed to see the tree standing, untouched, just as he had first found it? Nothing daunted, however, he hews away at it again and down it topples, crashing to the earth. As soon as he saw the tree on the ground Rata went off, as if going home, but turned back and hid himself in the underwood, in a spot whence he could peep out and see what took place. He had not been hidden long when he heard the innumerable multitude of the children of Tane approaching singing their incantations, and at last they arrived at the place where the tree was lying on the ground. Rata rushed upon them. He seized some of them, shouting: “Ha, ha, it is you, is it, who have been exercising your magical arts upon my tree?” Then the children of Tane all cried aloud in reply, “Who gave you authority to fell the forest god to the ground? You had no right to do so.” When Rata heard this he was overcome with shame at what he had done. The children of Tane called out to him: “Return, O Rata, to thy village, we will make a canoe for you,” and Rata obeyed their orders without delay. They were so numerous and each understood so well what to do that they had no sooner begun to adze out a canoe, than it was finished. When the canoe was afloat upon the sea, one hundred and forty warriors embarked on board it and they paddled off to seek their foe. One night, just at nightfall, they reached the fortress of their enemy. Rata landed alone, leaving all his warriors on board. As he stole along the shore he saw that a fire was burning on the sacred place where the enemy sacrificed to their gods. Without stopping he crept directly towards the fire and hid behind some thick bushes. There were several priests, and to assist them in their magical arts they were using the bones of Wahieroa, knocking them together to beat time while repeating a powerful incantation known only to themselves. Rata listened attentively to this incantation until he had learned it by heart, and when he was quite sure he knew it he rushed suddenly upon the priests. Being ignorant of the numbers of the enemy or whence they came, they made little resistance and were in a moment overcome. The bones of his father Wahieroa were then eagerly snatched up. He hastened with them back to the canoe, embarked on board it, and his warriors at once paddled away. Rata’s task of avenging his father’s death being thus ended, his tribe hauled up his large canoe on the shore and roofed it over with thatch to protect it from the sun and weather.