Rata and the Totara Tree

By Chrissie Ward

Before Rata was born, while he was still in his mother's womb, his father was killed and eaten by a terrible monster. Rata grew up knowing that he must take revenge.

When he became a strong young warrior, he knew it was time. First he needed to make a canoe, one that was sturdy and trustworthy and would carry many men, for the journey to the monster's country would be long and arduous, and the monster was very fierce.

Rata's mother told him that when she was gathering firewood in the forest she had seen a great totara tree that would make a perfect canoe. The next morning Rata rose before dawn and sharpened his stone adzes. Then he strode into the forest, taking the path his mother had told him to follow. When he came to the totara he exclaimed with delight. It was a magnificent tree, with a straight trunk and a branching top that was so high that it seemed to touch the sky.

"This will indeed make a fine canoe!" Rata cried. He took an adze and began to hack at the tree trunk. He worked for many hours, with sweat streaming from his brow, and at last the totara toppled and fell to the ground with a mighty crash. Rata lopped off the branches, hollowed out the trunk and began fashioning the hull. When it got too dark to work he gathered up his adzes, which were now all blunted, and returned to the village. He was very weary, but pleased with the progress he had made.

Next morning he rose early, sharpened his adzes and set out into the forest. But when he reached the spot, he was astonished. The canoe had gone, and there were no signs of his labour--no chips, no lopped-off branches, no scattered twigs or leaves. The giant totara stood where it had before.

Rata touched the trunk. Yes, it was the same tree. "How can this be?" he wondered. "Am I imagining things, or was it a dream?"

Puzzled, he shrugged and took up his adze. All day he worked. Again the totara crashed to the ground; again Rata lopped its branches and began to fashion the hull. When the sun went down he returned home, weary and perplexed.

The next day, when he arrived at the very same spot, there was the totara standing upright again. Rata realised that someone in the forest was playing tricks with him. He decided to fell the tree again and do his normal work, then return to watch what happened. He worked hard all day, and in the evening he put his adzes on his shoulder and pretended to set off for the village. He crept back quietly and hid behind a fallen log.

Very soon he heard a noise coming from the trees all around him--rustling, cheeping, chirping, clicking and whistling, growing louder and louder. Then he saw an amazing sight. Down from the trees flew thousands of birds, and down the tree trunks scuttled thousands of insects. These were te Tino o te Hakuturi, the Multitude of the Hakuturi, the guardians of the forest. They scurried and flew about the fallen tree, picking up the chips Rata had spent so long hacking out, and putting them back into place. All the while they sang and chanted: "Fly together, chips and splinters, stick fast together! Arise and stand again, a fresh-grown tree!" Slowly the great tree regained its former shape, then it rose up and stood straight and tall again.

Rata leapt from his hiding place and rushed out. The Hakuturi twittered and squeaked in alarm, then fell silent.

"Why are you doing this?" Rata cried. "Why do you keep interfering with my tree?"

"It is not your tree," the Hakuturi answered gravely. "You did not ask Tane, the god of the forest, for his permission before you cut it down."

That was true, and Rata was ashamed. Intent on his task, he had forgotten the proper rituals. "I am sorry," he said. "I will never be so thoughtless again."

Then he told the Hakuturi why he wanted to fell the tree. They felt respect for this man who wished to avenge the father he had never known, and they could tell that Rata truly regretted his actions. "Come back tomorrow," they said, "and if Tane allows you to cut down the tree, we will finish the canoe for you."

The next day Rata invoked Tane, the forest god, and asked permission to chop down the great tree so that he might build a canoe. A soft breeze came out of the forest and brushed Rata's face, and he knew Tane had said yes.

This time, when he felled the totara, the Hakuturi helped him. There were so many of them, and they worked together so well, that in a flash the canoe was finished. The red wood of its sides was carved in nature's intricate patterns, and the seams were decorated with white albatross feathers. At the prow was a fearsome figurehead and at the stern was an upright piece, both beautifully carved. All the lashings were tight, and the paddles and bailers were ready. The canoe was perfect in every way.

Rata returned at dawn with a hundred and forty warriors, and they launched the canoe. "Thanks, my forest friends!" he called to the Hakuturi. Then he recited a ritual chant and the canoe sped across the waters. Rata killed the monster and avenged his father's death.

Since that time the people never took a tree from the forest without first asking Tane's permission. That is the lesson Rata learnt: ask in the proper way, with respect, and it will be granted.