Maori Tales/The Hill Fairies

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They live high up in the hills, choosing the very densest parts of the bush for their dwelling, and the palisades of ther hidden villages are woven of black supplejack vines. Sometimes their distant singing may be heard; and sometimes they come down close to the Maori villages, and even carry off women and girls who stray too far among the trees.

The beautiful wife of Rua-rangi had been tempted one summer day to wander up the ferny stream, each bend seeming to entice her more, when suddenly she was surrounded by a band of roving hill-fairies; and their chief taking a great fancy to her, she was carried off to the hills.

The fairies were kind to her, and for some time she was quite happy with the singing creatures, who permitted her to roam at liberty about the village, giving her everything she desired, except permission to go beyond the palisades. Feeling a longing ​

​for her Maori husband swelling in her heart, however, day by day she sought a means of escape. She would venture first to the gate; then a little beyond; then a little further; till the fairies became accustomed to seeing her outside the palisades.

“Oh, she has altogether forgotten her people,” said they; “she always comes back, and is quite happy with her fairy husband.”

It will be supposed that Rua-rangi was greatly concerned when he came home from hunting and found that his beantiful wife had disappeared. Days passed, and she did not return. She had been seen wandering into the bush, and the tohunga, or wise man of the village, at last discovered that she had been carried off by the fairies. He murmured charms to cause a longing for her Maori husband to enter her heart, and his charms were not without effect.

The husband, too, sent a messenger of love, in the shape of a warbling tom-tit; and one day the longing wife, having come some distance beyond the palisades, saw the tiny bird alight close beside her, and heard ​

​its gentle warbling. She knew it to be a message from her husband, and now her love urged her feet, and she hastened away from the fairy village, hastened away to her Maori husband. She did not dare to look back for fear the fairy watchmen should see her, but hurried through the brakes of supplejack and brambly thickets, under the great trees, over mossy rocks and past tumbling singing waters.

Soon she saw her husband, who had come to meet her, and together they sped, faster and faster, for now they heard the cries of the pursuing fairies. They had discovered her escape, and with their sorrowful chief had hastened to recapture her.

The woman and her husband reached the village just as the fairies reached the edge of the bush, and they were safe, for the palisades of the village had been smeared with red, a colour the fairies could not endure, and the tohunga was repeating powerful incantations to deprive the fairies of power to come nearer, or to take the woman away.

​The chief of the fairies, too, stood repeating incantations, but his were of less power, and without effect; and before long the fairies were seen returning dejectedly to the bush, lamenting the loss of the lovely wife of Rua-rangi.