AND the man said to him, '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. '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 '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 '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 '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(The Maiden of Rotorua)