lest she should sink in the water, threw oft her clothes, and plunged into the water.  It was dark, and her only guide was the sound of her lover’s music.  Whenever her limbs became tired she rested, the gourds keeping her afloat.  At last she reached the island on which her lover dwelt.  Near the shore there was a hot spring, into which she plunged, partly to warm her trembling body, 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 sent his servant to fetch him a calabash of water.  The servant came to dip it from the lake near where the girl was hiding.  She called out to him in a gruff voice, like that of a man, asking him for some to drink, and he gave her the calabash, which she purposely threw down and broke.  The servant went back for another calabash and again she broke it in the same way.  The servant returned and told his master that a man in the hot spring had broken all his calabashes.  “How did the rascal dare to break my calabashes?” exclaimed the young man.  “Why, I shall die of rage.”

He threw on some clothes, seized his club, and hurried to the hot spring, calling out “Where’s that fellow who broke my calabashes?” And Hine-Moa knew the voice, and 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 then go to the house.”  And she answered, “Yes,” and she rose up in the water as beautiful as the wild white hawk, and stepped upon the edge of the bath 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.

THE MAN ON THE TREE

A young man named Maru-tuahu left home in quest of his father, who had abandoned his mother before the son was born because he had been unjustly accused of stealing sweet potatoes from another chief.  Maru-tuahu took along a slave, and they carried with them a spear for killing birds for food on the journey through the forest.  One morning, after they had been on the way a month, he happened to be up in a forest tree when two young girls, daughters of a chief, came along.  They saw the slave sitting at the root of the tree, and sportively contested with each other whose slave he should be.