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Taniwha describes how a thief was shot by Lieutenant Gore for stealing a piece of calico. The thief offered to sell a dog-skin cloak, but when the calico was handed down over the bulwarks into his canoe which was alongside the Endeavour, he simply took it, gave nothing in return, and told his comrades to paddle to land. "They paddled away.
The people at Mercury Bay knew at once, says Taniwha, that the English were goblins, because a boat's crew pulled ashore, rowing with their backs to the land. Only goblins have eyes in the backs of their heads. When these creatures stepped on to the beach all the natives retreated and the children ran into the bush.
Taniwha told Mundy that after the man was shot, the Maoris landed, consulted over the body, and decided that as the corpse "commenced the quarrel by the theft of the calico, his death should not be revenged, but that he should be buried in the cloth which he had paid for with his life."
Yes, it was dead; but what had killed it? and still the wonder grew! The Endeavour lay in the bay for some time, and a brisk trade grew up between ship and shore. On one great, never-to-be-forgotten day little Taniwha and some of his play-fellows were taken out in a canoe and went on board the magic ship.
Presently the goblin-captain came up to the boys and, after patting their heads and stroking their cloaks, produced a large nail and held it up before them temptingly. The other youngsters sat motionless, awe-struck. But the bolder Taniwha laughed cheerfully and was at once presented with the prize.
Colonel Mundy, in Our Antipodes, says he saw a man named Taniwha, in 1848, who remembered Cook's visit, and imitated his walk, with the peculiar manner he had of waving his right hand, and also told of the kindly way Cook had with the children.
After this little Taniwha went on shore, bearing with him his precious nail. He kept it for years, using it in turns as a spear-head and an auger, or carrying it slung round his neck as a sacred charm. But one day, when out in a canoe, he was capsized in the breakers off a certain islet and, to use his own words, "my god was lost to me, though I dived for it."
Such, too, is the dragon legend, the tale of the Taniwha, which graces the volcanic country in the interior. Besides these are the numerous stories of a more historical sort, incidents of love and war, which hang around the places where they happened. A country like this, so rich in natural beauties, so filled with the glories and magnificences of the Creator's hand, is surely
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