Maori Tales/The Winning of Roa

The fame of the beauty of Roa had gone far beyond her own village, and she was the desire of every young man, and the envy of every young woman, near and far. But she was of high rank also, so few might hope for her favour.

The brothers Ruru one day talked together. “Why should not one of us win her for his wife? We will pay a visit to her village, and see if this white crane cannot be captured.” Each of the brothers resolved that he was to be the successful one, and they launched their canoe, and set out on their journey. Ruru-teina was the youngest; he heard the boasting of his brothers, but said nothing; for what had the youngest to say in a matter where his elders had expressed desire?

Roa, too, heard of the boasting; for a boast is a noisy bird that flies far and knows no shame. She determined to deceive the brothers, and instructed some of her best-​looking attendants how they should act. When the brothers reached the village she herself would remain in her house, whilst each of the attendants was to persuade one of the brothers that she was Roa, and that he had won her heart.

The brothers arrived, and the company was welcomed to the open court, where speeches and songs were interchanged. The brothers’ eyes were meanwhile busy scanning the maidens, wondering which one might be Roa, the celebrated beauty. Before evening, they said to Ruru-teina,

“Do you now return to our canoe and watch during the night so that our goods may be safe”; and reluctantly Ruru-teina returned to the canoe, which had been hauled well up the beach beyond reach of the tide.

There he sat, meditating on the good fortune of his brothers. There they would be enjoying themselves in the meeting-houses, singing, dancing, reciting tales, playing games, and here was he, hearing, seeing, and doing nothing. It was not to be thought of. He wandered a little way from the canoe, and saw some boys whipping tops. “E hoa ma!” he cried; “friends!—where is the ​house of Roanga-rahia?”—for that was the full name of Roa.

“Yonder,” said they, pointing out a well-carved house not so very far from the canoe.

Ruru walked slowly along to the house; he might at least see her home if he might not see Roa herself.

A pleasant-looking young woman was seated by the doorway.

“Is this the house of Roanga-rahia?” asked Ruru.

“Yes,” was the reply; “Are not you one of the visitors?”

Ruru admitted that he was.

“Why are not you with the others, so that you might win Roa for your wife?”

“Oh,” said Ruru; “I am the youngest, and was sent to watch the canoe, whilst my brothers win Roa; for every one of them has determined to do so.”

The young woman laughed. She was indeed so pleasant, and so good-looking too, that Ruru quickly forgot his disappointment, and forgot the canoe too as they chatted away together.

They had taken a great liking to each other; and presently the young woman said, ​“Do you know who I am?”

“I supposed you might be a sister of Roa, since you were sitting by the house,” said Ruru.

“I am Roa herself,” said she, and she told him of the trick she had determined to play on the boasting brothers.

She led him into the house, and time passed gaily, Roa’s mother coming soon from the meeting-place, and telling of the doings there.

Before morning Ruru returned to the canoe, and when in the early morning the brothers returned, laughing and jesting, to sleep, there was Ruru lying on the mats in the canoe.

They told him of the doings, and each brother assured him privately that he had already won the heart of Roa.

“There is another also pretending to be Roa,” said one brother, “but mine is the real Roa; she told me so herself, and my brother is being deceived!”

All the brothers told him the same, and he laughed in his heart to think how it was he himself who had been favoured by the real Roa, and not his elder brothers at all.

​Each day the brothers slept, going up to the village again to spend the evenings and nights in pleasure, and in winning the supposed Roa; and each night Ruru-teina went up spending happy hours with the real Roa.

This went on for some days, and at last the brothers decided to return home, each one taking with him as his wife Roa the beauty. On the last evening Ruru asked that the mother of Roa should also come with him to his home, Roa having already agreed to do so; but the mother sent an attendant in her place, and Ruru took these two to the canoe, hiding them in his cabin before the brothers came with their handsome wives.

There was a great leave-taking, and away they sailed; but they forgot to take with them fire to cook food, and the journey would last some days.

Passing a village, they saw smoke arising, so they landed, and sent Ruru-teina to fetch fire. He was unwilling to go, fearing that in his absence Roa and her attendant might be discovered.

His brothers urged him, however, and away he went. He met the brothers Kiore, one ​called Ti, the other Ta. He told them what he wanted, and as they spoke together

Karara came. She was an ogress, her upper half being woman and her lower half serpent. She bade them prepare food, and wound her ​tail round Ruru to prevent his going. The food was set before him, but in it were scales from her body, and Ruru felt uneasy.

When she left them Ruru said to the brothers Kiore:

“Who is this woman?”

“Karara-hu-ara.”

“Is she always like this?—for the food was covered with scales from her body.”

“Do you suppose she is a woman?” said they; “she is an ogress.”

She overheard them, and cried out in anger, coming to punish the brothers.

“You had better hurry away,” they said, as one of them hid in a stone, the other in the carved figure at the top of the barge-boards of the house.

The ogress tried to catch Ti and Ta, scratching the stone and the carved figure, and meanwhile Ruru made off as fast as he could.

She saw him hastening away, and called:

“You may run away to-day, Ruru, but I shall catch you again; on a misty day I shall be with you.”

Ruru came to his brothers, and told them of the ogress. They determined to kill her, and built a house so that they might catch ​her by stratagem. In the midst of the house they set up a carved figure like a man, and the house had but one window, and no door.

A misty day came, and they heard a voice in the mist,—

“Ruru, Ruru,—where are you?”

When she came nearer, “Here I am,” cried Ruru from the house. She entered, and coiled her tail round the carved figure, saying:

“I told you you could not escape me.”

Hearing a sound, she asked,

“What are they doing outside?”

“Preparing food for us to eat.”

Again she asked, and he made the same reply.

In reality the brothers were piling brushwood against and over the house; to this they set fire, and all was soon in a blaze. Ruru slipped out through the window, fastening it behind him, and Karara was left to be burnt in the house.

“Ruru!” she called; “Ruru, the deceitful one, with the flame of fire.”

The house fell in, and she was consumed; and the people stood round, throwing the scales from her body into the fire again as ​they sprang out. Two of them escaped to the hills, however, singing as they went.

The brothers paddled away again, and were soon home. One by one they took their wives to their mother, and she was bewildered when first one, then another, told her his wife was the real Roanga-rahia, and that the others had been deceived. They could not all be Roa, but who could say which one really was that beauty?

“Have not you brought a wife?” said the mother to Ruru-teina.

“Yes,” said he; “I have brought the real Roa.”

The mother was now angry; she was not sure if the elder brothers were jesting with her or not; but when Ruru-teina told her the same, yet no woman was at his side, she felt she had cause for anger.

“Just go to my cabin,” said Ruru; “she is still there.”

What could she believe?—she was angry, but curious too; might he have someone in his cabin?—and she went, soon hurrying back, crying,—

“You cannot think how lovely is the one in my youngest son’s cabin!”

​All the people went, and there sat the lovely Roa in tears: she and her attendant had had but two calabashes of birds, and they had been many days on the way.

Soon they had plenty; there was welcome and feasting. Then the elder brothers knew they had been deceived, and their wives found that it was the name of Roa with which their husbands had been in love.