Rangitāne o Tamaki nui a Rua

Incorporated Society

²Te Awa o Manawatū   ²Te Aohuruhuru   ²Okatia

The death of Te Aohuruhuru c. 1525

One of the descendants of Tara who lived in the Wairarapa was a woman named Te Aohuruhuru, whose story is told in extremely beautiful language in Grey’s Nga Mahi A Ngā Tupuna.

Te Aohuruhuru was happily married to a young man named Takaroupoko by whom she had a daughter, Te Umutahi.  An old man living at Pāmāramarama at the mouth of the Mataikona River was so overcome by Te Aohuruhuru’s beauty and her capable housekeeping that he forcefully abducted her and she became his wife.  The story continues in a translation of the version published in Nga Mahi A Nga Tupuna.

Now Pāmāramarama was the name of the pā of Te Aohuruhuru’s husband.  This man was elderly and his wife was a slave taken away by him from the man she loved.  The reason why she was abducted was that she was a good woman, beautiful and industrious.  She worked at the preparation of food and the weaving of garments for the old man.  But her status was that of a servant to him, although her affection continued steadfast for the man she loved so much.

After she had lived with the old man for a long time he turned to insulting her.

This is the story of how he insulted her.  While they were sleeping at night, after a long sleep the old man awoke and saw his young wife deep in slumber.  Her garments had slipped off with the tossing of her arms and legs as it became warm.  So, he fed the fire and as it blazed up he saw the garments lying aside.  And the old man thought to himself how fortunate he was.  Her wavy hair was shining in the firelight; her body glowed; her skin shone smoothly; her face was like a beautiful summer sky; the girl’s bosom rose and fell like a gentle swell on a summer sea tinted by the setting sun – such was the skin of our heroine.

After the old man had gazed for a while at the beauty of his young wife, he woke up his elderly friends in the house to see his wife’s loveliness.  While they were looking at her she awoke.  When she was fully awake it dawned upon her that she was being stared at by a lot of old men in the house.

So she rose up, filled with shame.  It was as if a lovely sky had been covered with cloud; her breast heaved like an earthquake.  She was overcome by shame.  Her hands seized her garments to cover her.  She fled to a corner of the house and cried, cried till daylight came.

When it was fully daylight the old man and his friends went aboard a canoe and paddled out to sea to fish.  After they had gone his wife brooded on the wrong done to her by her husband and she decided to end her life.  Now, there was a certain precipitous rock standing on the coast-line which is known today as the leap of Te Aohuruhuru.

Then the girl set about adorning herself; she combed her hair and dressed herself in fine cloaks; she placed plumes in her hair – her plumes were of the huia, the white heron and finally the albatross.  Then the girl rose and set out to climb until she reached the top of the rocky pinnacle, where she sat down.  There she thought out a song.

When her song was ready, her husband and his friends were paddling to the shore.  As the husband’s canoe drew near to the base of the rock on which the girl was sitting, the old man’s heart was still aglow with the beauty of his young wife.  Then they heard the girl singing her song.  They listened to the words she sang, wafted on the ripples on the water like an echo striking a cliff and rebounding, and soothing to the spirit.  Truly, the sound of the woman’s song was like that, clearly reaching their ears.  This is it –

While I lay exposed in my sleep,

The fire was kindled

To burn brightly

And I was a laughing stock.

When her song was ended she leaped from the rock to destroy her life.  The old man saw her as she jumped from the cliff.  He saw her garments flashing white as she fell. 

So they brought their canoe ashore at the base of the rock from which she had leaped, and as they landed they saw her lying there, utterly shattered.  It was as if a carved canoe had been thrown on to the reef and smashed to splinters.  And the carved canoe of that old man was indeed torn to pieces, that is, the unexcelled beauty of the young woman.  And to this very day we still remember the name of this rock, the leap of Te Aohuruhuru.  And we remember, too, the words of her song.  When strangers come here we take them to see the rock.

The original Māori version of Te Aohuruhuru’s song was as follows:

Nāku ra i moe tūwherawhera

Ka tahuna ki te ahi

Kia tino tūrama

A ka kataina a au na.

The rock from which she leaped to her death is known as Te Rerenga o Te Aohuruhuru, or “the leap of Te Aohuruhuru”.  The rock, which is now also known as “Suicide Point”, an echo of the legend, is a sharp pinnacle now severed from the ridge by the Whakataki-Mataikona road about 2 ½ kilometres south of the mouth of the Mataikona River.

Te Umutahi, the daughter of Te Aohuruhuru and Takaroupoko became the wife of Tāwhakahiku, a famous Rangitāne chief, whose story will be given later.