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The Story of a Maori Chief

[section]

My Father, Hone Hiki, was the eldest of a large family, of whom, besides my father, I saw only five— four uncles and one aunt. Some were born at Kamiti and others at Waioratane, both places being in Kautuku, or Marangairoa 1 D. My father must have been old enough to have carried a gun when the Hauhau war on the East Coast broke out in 1865, but I never remember hearing him refer to it. He was, however, exceedingly popular, especially during our long residence at Kawakawa (the name of which for postal reasons was changed to Te Araroa).

When my father died he left behind large herds of cattle, which, although he did not formally do so, he left to the whole of the local sub-tribe. At any rate, members of the tribe helped themselves to the cattle. He died at Te Araroa in 1887, but his body was carried to Kautuku, in the Waiapu Valley, where it was buried. (Strange to relate, in 1913 my people put in a claim before the Native Land Court for that portion of the Kautuku block, but Judge R. N. Jones dismissed our claim, and for over 35 years I have unsuccessfully striven to recover our heritage and three burial grounds.) There were five of us in our own family, four boys and one girl, I being the eldest. The boys were all educated at Te Aute College, and my sister had only two years at Hukarere.

After the death of my grandfather in 1894 my mother felt that the last tie to my father's family was snapped, and she returned to her old home at Pakihi, East Cape. There was not one of her people then living to give her a welcome or to offer her a home. It was left to the loyal chief, Wikiriwhi Matauru, relative of her long-dead aunt Wikitoria, to take her in. Here my mother found shelter for a few years until my sister, Kuata, and her husband later followed her and erected a temporary home. My brothers, Poihipi, Henare and Tawhai, followed later.