In Maori legends Tane is the God of the Forest. Here is one version of this story for you to read. Most children will read or hear the stories of the Maori Gods at school at some time.
TANE’S CHILDREN by Maureen Green
Sunday, October 13. 2013
Once upon a time when all New Zealand forest birds lived in trees, Tane Mahuta, Lord of the Forest, glided to earth. His forest alive with birdsong and his feet barely ruffling the thick carpet of leaves, he looked to the treetops. There, a flock of kiwi, the most colourful of his children, feathers aglow in the morning sun, flittered from branch to branch in a mighty Kauri.
“Ahhh,” he sighed, paused, watched and marvelled at how bright their feathers had become. A satisfied smile on his face, he ghosted through his forest breathing in the fragrance of rata and clematis. Undergrowth foliage and vines parted to form a pathway as he approached. Nikau and Totara arched their leafy heads in greeting and fantail followed in his wake. When he broke into the stand of Kauri, he winced, knelt at the base of the mightiest of them all and sifted his fingers through the mountain of fallen leaves and cones. Head lifted, his eyes followed the straight lines of the trunk where golden sap oozed and continued upwards to ghost-white denuded branches.
“What is happening here?” he asked. “The soil is good and rainfall plentiful. Why are my trees dying?”
On closer inspection, he discovered the ring-barking on every trunk. Enraged by the destruction of his children, he pared away the damaged bark.
“Bugs, they’re the culprits,” he thundered. “How can I protect my trees from these creatures?”
A day passed and another, while Tane Mahuta, astride a fallen kauri, pondered. No nearer a solution, he lifted his head skyward, “Brother,” he called, “creatures living on the forest floor are killing my trees. They bite into the bark and steal the sap. If the trees die, so will the birds. What can be done to save them?”
The Sky Lord remained silent for so long the Tane thought his brother must have not heard his call.
“Brother!” he called again.
The sky lowered to the earth and Tane Hokohoko whispered in his brother’s ear.
A smile on his lips, Tane Mahuta rose from the log and his voice ringing clear through the forest canopy he, called, “Bellbird, to me.”
Within in minutes, Bellbird hovered before her maker.
“Gather your kind, Bellbird. They are to tell all the birds Tane Mahuta, Lord of the Forest wishes to speak with them beneath Mount Hikurangi on the evening of the next full moon.”
At the appointed time, all birds gathered. Each species roosted in trees in a close knit cluster, at the base of the sacred mountain.
Tane Mahuta, his voice rumbling like thunder from the snowcapped mountain top, called, “Ground bugs are killing my children. Which of you birds will come down from the trees and live on the ground to save the forest.”
Silence hung thick in the air and, as each second passed, tension grew. The Tane’s brow creased deeper and deeper until valleys furrowed his handsome nut-brown features. Eyes ablaze he turned toward the tuis huddled together on the top branches of a Kowhai tree. “Tui, will you come down from the forest roof to save the trees?”
The Tui, shrank in fear. Their wings fluttered so rapidly a whoosh of air swept up the mountain slope. “Oh no, Tane Mahuta, it’s too dark there,” a spokesman stammered. “And, we’re afraid of the dark.”
“Well, Pukeko,” Tane called. “Will you come down to live on the forest floor to feed?”
“No,” Pukeko, chorused. “The ground is too wet and we don’t like our feet being wet.”
Tane Mahuta snorted. Air swept down the slopes and through the trees ruffling feathers and chilling all perched there.
“Pipiwharauroa? What about your kind, Cuckoo?”
“Us?” Cuckoo cried. “We’re far, far too busy building nests for our families to go down onto the forest floor.”
Tane Mahuta’s face creased with pain. His anguished roar flocked the birds into the air. The sun scudded across the sky and dipped below the Western horizon before its appointed time. Only thin shafts of its light-rays remained striating the early evening sky. Tane, eyed the species all of a twitter and waited for them to settle.
“Fools!” he said when all was quiet, “If one of you doesn’t come down, not only will all trees die, but you too will suffer, for you will have nowhere to live.” His eyes again ranged over all those assembled. “Who will volunteer?”
There was silence; a quiet so great it hung in the air like a heavy cloud. Finally, murmurings amongst the Kiwi broke the eerie spell.
“Kiwi,” Tane Mahuta said, his eyes welling with tears, “you are the forest’s last hope. Will you come down from the trees to live on the forest floor?”
The oldest kiwi, his bright green plumage crowned with reds and yellows glowing in the last of the day’s light, searched the faces of all his kind. Every head having nodded, he turned back to face the Tane. “We will come down,” he called and flew down onto the dark, dank forest floor.
Air sighed from the Tane’s mouth. A smile twitched the corners of his mouth then morphed into a scowl as he looked to the other birds in the trees. Then, fingers worrying his chin and head cocked, his eyes searched each kiwi face. “You do realize, Kiwi, if you do this, you will have to grow strong legs, and loose your beautiful wings and colourful feathers to blend in with the forest floor.”
“We know,” the kiwi’s chorused.
“You will never be able to return to the trees, and never again will you forage in the light of day.”
The kiwi’s nodded, turned their heads to the West for one last look at the sun and flew down from the trees.
In a twinkling, Tane Mahuta wove his magic stood back, smiling down on the two species and six varieties of kiwi created, some brown and some spotted. “Thank you, kiwi’s. I’m sure the trees will be safe with you keeping the harmful bugs in check. I shall be forever grateful to you.”
He turned to the other birds and his face darkened.
“Tui,” he thundered, “from now on you will wear two white feathers at your throat as the mark of a coward.”
Pukeko, you will spend the rest of your days in the swamp, and you, Pipiwharauroa, because you were too busy building nests for your families, you will never again build another nest. Instead, you will lay your eggs in the nest of others.”
Anguished cries flooded the air.
“Silence,” roared the Tane, “I have not yet finished.”
His face softened and his voice filled with emotion, he turned to the kiwi’s. “Thank you my children for saving the forest. Because of your willingness to sacrifice your life in the trees, you will become the best-loved and best-known of all New Zealand birds.” http://blog.goethe.de/onceuponatime/archives/237-TANES-CHILDREN-by-Maureen-Green.html
At the Gisborne Town Clock!
“What is happening here?” he asked. “The soil is good and rainfall plentiful. Why are my trees dying?”
On closer inspection, he discovered the ring-barking on every trunk. Enraged by the destruction of his children, he pared away the damaged bark.
“Bugs, they’re the culprits,” he thundered. “How can I protect my trees from these creatures?”
A day passed and another, while Tane Mahuta, astride a fallen kauri, pondered. No nearer a solution, he lifted his head skyward, “Brother,” he called, “creatures living on the forest floor are killing my trees. They bite into the bark and steal the sap. If the trees die, so will the birds. What can be done to save them?”
The Sky Lord remained silent for so long the Tane thought his brother must have not heard his call.
“Brother!” he called again.
The sky lowered to the earth and Tane Hokohoko whispered in his brother’s ear.
A smile on his lips, Tane Mahuta rose from the log and his voice ringing clear through the forest canopy he, called, “Bellbird, to me.”
Within in minutes, Bellbird hovered before her maker.
“Gather your kind, Bellbird. They are to tell all the birds Tane Mahuta, Lord of the Forest wishes to speak with them beneath Mount Hikurangi on the evening of the next full moon.”
At the appointed time, all birds gathered. Each species roosted in trees in a close knit cluster, at the base of the sacred mountain.
Tane Mahuta, his voice rumbling like thunder from the snowcapped mountain top, called, “Ground bugs are killing my children. Which of you birds will come down from the trees and live on the ground to save the forest.”
Silence hung thick in the air and, as each second passed, tension grew. The Tane’s brow creased deeper and deeper until valleys furrowed his handsome nut-brown features. Eyes ablaze he turned toward the tuis huddled together on the top branches of a Kowhai tree. “Tui, will you come down from the forest roof to save the trees?”
The Tui, shrank in fear. Their wings fluttered so rapidly a whoosh of air swept up the mountain slope. “Oh no, Tane Mahuta, it’s too dark there,” a spokesman stammered. “And, we’re afraid of the dark.”
“Well, Pukeko,” Tane called. “Will you come down to live on the forest floor to feed?”
“No,” Pukeko, chorused. “The ground is too wet and we don’t like our feet being wet.”
Tane Mahuta snorted. Air swept down the slopes and through the trees ruffling feathers and chilling all perched there.
“Pipiwharauroa? What about your kind, Cuckoo?”
“Us?” Cuckoo cried. “We’re far, far too busy building nests for our families to go down onto the forest floor.”
Tane Mahuta’s face creased with pain. His anguished roar flocked the birds into the air. The sun scudded across the sky and dipped below the Western horizon before its appointed time. Only thin shafts of its light-rays remained striating the early evening sky. Tane, eyed the species all of a twitter and waited for them to settle.
“Fools!” he said when all was quiet, “If one of you doesn’t come down, not only will all trees die, but you too will suffer, for you will have nowhere to live.” His eyes again ranged over all those assembled. “Who will volunteer?”
There was silence; a quiet so great it hung in the air like a heavy cloud. Finally, murmurings amongst the Kiwi broke the eerie spell.
“Kiwi,” Tane Mahuta said, his eyes welling with tears, “you are the forest’s last hope. Will you come down from the trees to live on the forest floor?”
The oldest kiwi, his bright green plumage crowned with reds and yellows glowing in the last of the day’s light, searched the faces of all his kind. Every head having nodded, he turned back to face the Tane. “We will come down,” he called and flew down onto the dark, dank forest floor.
Air sighed from the Tane’s mouth. A smile twitched the corners of his mouth then morphed into a scowl as he looked to the other birds in the trees. Then, fingers worrying his chin and head cocked, his eyes searched each kiwi face. “You do realize, Kiwi, if you do this, you will have to grow strong legs, and loose your beautiful wings and colourful feathers to blend in with the forest floor.”
“We know,” the kiwi’s chorused.
“You will never be able to return to the trees, and never again will you forage in the light of day.”
The kiwi’s nodded, turned their heads to the West for one last look at the sun and flew down from the trees.
In a twinkling, Tane Mahuta wove his magic stood back, smiling down on the two species and six varieties of kiwi created, some brown and some spotted. “Thank you, kiwi’s. I’m sure the trees will be safe with you keeping the harmful bugs in check. I shall be forever grateful to you.”
He turned to the other birds and his face darkened.
“Tui,” he thundered, “from now on you will wear two white feathers at your throat as the mark of a coward.”
Pukeko, you will spend the rest of your days in the swamp, and you, Pipiwharauroa, because you were too busy building nests for your families, you will never again build another nest. Instead, you will lay your eggs in the nest of others.”
Anguished cries flooded the air.
“Silence,” roared the Tane, “I have not yet finished.”
His face softened and his voice filled with emotion, he turned to the kiwi’s. “Thank you my children for saving the forest. Because of your willingness to sacrifice your life in the trees, you will become the best-loved and best-known of all New Zealand birds.” http://blog.goethe.de/onceuponatime/archives/237-TANES-CHILDREN-by-Maureen-Green.html
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