The Tapu Tohunga.--The Maori Oracle.--Responses of the
Oracle.--Priestcraft.
Then came the _tapu tohunga_, or priest's _tapu_, a quite different
kind or form of _tapu_ from those which I have spoken of. These
_tohunga_ presided over all those ceremonies and customs which had
something approaching to a religious character. They also pretended to
the power--by means of certain familiar spirits--to foretell future
events, and even in some cases to control them. The belief in the power
of these _tohunga_ to foretell events was very strong, and the
incredulous pakeha who laughed at them was thought a person quite
incapable of understanding plain evidence. I must allow that some of
their predictions were of a most daring nature, and, happening to turn
out perfectly successful, there may be some excuse for an ignorant
people believing in them. Most of these predictions were, however,
given--like the oracles of old--in terms which would admit a double
meaning and secure the character of the soothsayer, no matter how the
event turned out.
It is also remarkable that these _tohunga_ did not pretend to divine
future events by any knowledge or power existing in themselves; they
pretended to be for the time inspired by the familiar spirit, and
passive in his hands. This spirit "entered into" them, and, on being
questioned, gave a response in a sort of half-whistling half-articulate
voice, supposed to be the proper language of spirits; and I have known
a _tohunga_ who, having made a false prediction, laid the blame on the
"tricksy spirit," who he said had purposely spoken false, for certain
good and sufficient spiritual reasons which he then explained. Amongst
the fading customs and beliefs of the good old times the _tohunga_
still holds his ground, and the oracle is as often consulted (though
not so openly) as it was a hundred years ago, and is as firmly believed
in; and this by natives who are professed Christians: the inquiries are
often on subjects of the most vital importance to the welfare of the
colony. A certain _tohunga_ has even quite lately, to my certain
knowledge, been paid a large sum of money to do a miracle! I saw the
money paid, and I saw the miracle. And the miracle was a good enough
sort of miracle, as miracles go in these times. The natives know we
laugh at their belief in these things, and they would much rather we
were angry, for then they would defy us; but as we simply laugh at
their credulity, they do all they can to conceal it from us: but
nevertheless the chiefs, on all matters of importance, continue to
consult the Maori oracle.
I shall give two instances of predictions which came under my own
observation, and which will show how much the same priestcraft has been
in all times.
A man--a petty chief--had a serious quarrel with his relations, left
his tribe, and went to a distant part of the country, saying that he
cast them off and would never return. After a time the relations became
both uneasy at his absence and sorry for the disagreement. The presence
of the head of the family was also of consequence to them. They
therefore inquired of the oracle if he would return. At night the
_tohunga_ invoked the familiar spirit, he became inspired, and in a
sort of hollow whistle came the words of fate:--"He will return; but
yet not return." This response was given several times, and then the
spirit departed, leaving the priest or _tohunga_ to the guidance of his
own unaided wits. No one could understand the meaning of the response:
the priest himself said he could make nothing of it. The spirit of
course knew his own meaning; but all agreed that, whatever that meaning
was, it would turn out true. Now the conclusion of this story is rather
extraordinary. Some time after this, several of the chief's relations
went to offer reconciliation and to endeavour to persuade him to return
home. Six months afterwards they returned, bringing him along with them
_a corpse_: they had found him dying, and carried his body home. Now
all knew the meaning of the words of the oracle, "He will return, but
yet not return."
Another instance, which I witnessed myself, was as follows:--A captain
of a large ship had run away with a Maori girl--or a Maori girl had run
away with a ship captain; I should not like to swear which is the
proper form of expression--and the relations, as in such cases happens
in most countries, thought it incumbent on them to get into a great
taking, and make as much noise as possible about the matter. Off they
set to the _tohunga_. I happened to be at his place at the time, and
saw and heard all I am about to recount. The relations of the girl did
not merely confine themselves to asking questions, they demanded active
assistance. The ship had gone to sea loaded for a long voyage; the
fugitives had fairly escaped; and what the relations wanted was that
the _atua_, or familiar spirit of the _tohunga_, should bring the ship
back into port, so that they might have an opportunity to recover the
lost ornament of the family. I heard the whole.
The priest hummed and hawed. "He did not know; could not say. We should
hear what the 'boy' would say. He would do as he liked. Could not
compel him;" and so forth. At night all assembled in the house where
the priest usually performed. All was expectation. I saw I was _de
trop_, in the opinion of our soothsayer: in fact, I had got the name of
an infidel (which I have since taken care to get rid of), and the
spirit was unwilling to enter where there was an unbeliever. My friend
the priest hinted to me politely that a nice bed had been made for me
in the next house. I thanked him in the most approved Maori fashion,
but said I was "very comfortable where I was;" and, suiting the action
to the word, rolled my cloak about me, and lay down on the rushes, with
which the floor was covered.
About midnight I heard the spirit saluting the guests, and them
saluting him; and I also noticed they hailed him as "relation," and
then gravely preferred the request that he would "drive back the ship
which had stolen his cousin." The response, after a short time, came in
the hollow mysterious whistling voice,--"The ship's nose I will batter
out on the great sea." This answer was repeated several times, and then
the spirit departed, and would not be recalled. The rest of the night
was spent in conjecturing what could be the meaning of these words. All
agreed that there must be more in them than met the ear; but no one
could say it was a clear concession of the request made. As for the
priest, he said he could not understand it, and that "the spirit was a
great rogue"--a _koroke hangareka_. He, however, kept throwing out
hints now and then that something more than common was meant, and
talked generally in the "we shall see" style.
Now here comes the end of the affair. About ten days after this in
comes the ship. She had been "battered" with a vengeance. She had been
met by a terrible gale when a couple of hundred miles off the land, and
had sprung a leak in the bow. The bow in Maori is called the "nose"
(_ihu_). The vessel had been in great danger, and had been actually
forced to run for the nearest port; which happened to be the one she
had left. Now, after such a coincidence as this, I can hardly blame the
ignorant natives for believing in the oracle, for I actually caught
myself quoting, "Can the devil speak truth?" Indeed I have in the good
old times known several pakehas who "thought there was something in
it," and two who formally and believingly consulted the oracle, and
paid a high _douceur_ to the priest.
I shall give one more instance of the response of the Maori oracle. A
certain northern tribe, noted for their valour, but not very numerous,
sent the whole of their best men on a war expedition to the south. This
happened about forty years ago. Before the _taua_ started, the oracle
was consulted, and the answer to the question, "Shall this expedition
be successful?" came. "A desolate country!--a desolate country!--a
desolate country!" This the eager warriors accepted as a most
favourable response: they said the enemy's country would be desolated.
It, however, so turned out that they were all exterminated to a man;
and the miserable remnant of their tribe, weakened and rendered
helpless by their loss, became a prey to their more immediate
neighbours, lost their lands, and have ceased from that day to be heard
of as an independent tribe. So, in fact, it was the country of the
eager inquirers which was laid "desolate." Every one praised the
oracle, and its character was held higher than ever.