tempt her kings—for Vaiau was a rich and prosperous land, And flatter—for who would attempt it but warriors mighty of hand? p. 23And change in a breath again and rise in a strain of song, Invoking the beaten drums, beholding the fall of the strong, Calling the fowls of the air to come and feast on the dead. And they held the chin in silence, and heard her, and shook the head; For they knew the men of Taiárapu famous in battle and feast, Marvellous eaters and smiters: the men of Vaiau not least.

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To the land of the Námunu-úra, [23a] to Paea, at length she came, To men who were foes to the Tevas and hated their race and name. There was she well received, and spoke with Hiopa the king. [23b] And Hiopa listened, and weighed, and wisely considered the thing. “Here in the back of the isle we dwell in a sheltered place,” p. 24Quoth he to the woman, “in quiet, a weak and peaceable race. But far in the teeth of the wind lofty Taiárapu lies; Strong blows the wind of the trade on its seaward face, and cries Aloud in the top of arduous mountains, and utters its song In green continuous forests. Strong is the wind, and strong And fruitful and hardy the race, famous in battle and feast, Marvellous eaters and smiters: the men of Vaiau not least. Now hearken to me, my daughter, and hear a word of the wise: How a strength goes linked with a weakness, two by two, like the eyes. They can wield the ómare well and cast the javelin far; Yet are they greedy and weak as the swine and the children are. Plant we, then, here at Paea, a garden of excellent fruits; Plant we bananas and kava and taro, the king of roots; p. 25Let the pigs in Paea be tapu [25] and no man fish for a year; And of all the meat in Tahiti gather we threefold here. So shall the fame of our plenty fill the island, and so, At last, on the tongue of rumour, go where we wish it to go. Then shall the pigs of Taiárapu raise their snouts in the air; But we sit quiet and wait, as the fowler sits by the snare, And tranquilly fold our hands, till the pigs come nosing the food: But meanwhile build us a house of Trotéa, the stubborn wood, Bind it with incombustible thongs, set a roof to the room, Too strong for the hands of a man to dissever or fire to consume; And there, when the pigs come trotting, there shall the feast be spread, There shall the eye of the morn enlighten the feasters dead. So be it done; for I have a heart that pities your state, And Nateva and Námunu-úra are fire and water for hate.”

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