required for sacrifice, although eligible. The bamboo knife would be taken to the marae of the god specified, and thrown on the ground to rot. If a second god's name were pronounced over the child, the bamboo knife would go to one marae and the name of the babe only be pronounced over the second marae. The removal of the coagulated blood was believed to be highly promotive of health, all impurities being thus removed out of the system. Hence the common query in heathen times: "I taia toou pito noai?”="What divine name was pronounced at the severance of thy navel string?" In other words, "Who is thy god?"

A deacon, still living, told me that his god was to have been Teipe, but when halfway to the marae of that unfortunate god, his father resolved to break his promise to his wife, and actually turned back and presented the knife to Motoro-his own god. "Had my father not done so, I should long since have been offered in sacrifice, and should not have heard of the one great offering on Calvary," said he with evident feeling.

At Rarotonga, when a boy was born a collection of spears, clubs, and slinging stones was made. When the sun was setting a great taro leaf filled with water was held over these warlike weapons, and the navel string was treated as above described. The idea was that the child should grow up to be a famous warrior.

On the birth of the first-born son of the reigning king Makea, a human victim previously fixed upon was slain. The royal babe was placed upon the dead body for the purpose of severing the navel string, thus indicating the absolute sway he would exercise over the lives of his subjects upon succeeding to the throne of his father.

It is often said to an ill-tempered person, "E pito raka toou"

=

“The name of a devil1 was pronounced over thy severed navel string," the phrase having outlived the custom.

NAMING OF CHILDREN.

At convenient intervals the principal king of Mangaia, as highpriest of all the gods, assisted by the priest of Motoro, summoned the young people to their various family maraes to be publicly "named." Some might be verging on manhood or womanhood, whilst others were scarcely able to walk. Standing in a half circle, two or three deep, the operator dipped a few leaves of a beautiful species of myrtle (maire) in the sacred stream flowing past the marae, and sprinkled the assembly; all the while reciting a song or prayer to the particular god at whose shrine they were worshipping, and who was supposed to be the special protector of those present.

At certain pauses in the song the king, as "pontifex maximus,” gently tapped each youngster two or three times on the head or shoulders, pronouncing his or her name.

The idea evidently was to secure a public recognition of the god and clanship of each of the rising generation-for their own guidance in the ceremonial of heathen life, and for the guidance of priests and chiefs afterwards. The greatest possible sin in heathenism was ta atua," i.e. to kill a fellow worshipper by stealth. In general it might be done in battle. Otherwise such a blow was regarded as falling upon the god himself; the literal sense of "ta atua" being god-striking, or god-killing. Such

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1 Whilst their gods were nearly all malicious, some being more mischievous than others, the Hervey Islanders had not the idea of one supreme evil spirit corresponding to our Satan.

crimes were generally the consequence of ignorance to prevent the priests and chiefs from such blundering, these occasional "namings" were appointed. In the event of war, and a consequent redistribution of lands, the favour of all the principal gods must be secured by favours shown to their worshippers-at least to a selection of a few to keep up the worship of each idol. A great feasting invariably succeeded this ceremony of naming.

CHAPTER III.

ASTRONOMICAL MYTHS.

A CHASE THAT NEVER ENDS.

THE only children of Potiki were twins: the elder, a girl, was named Piri-ere-ua, or Inseparable; the younger was a boy. These children were naturally very fond of each other: whatever the sister wished the brother agreed to. Unhappily, however, their mother, Tarakorekore, was a scold, and gave them no peace. One night the mother went torch-fishing on the reef. The tide, rising at midnight, put an end to her sport; but not before she had obtained a basket full of small bony red fish, called kūkū. Upon arriving home, according to invariable native custom, she woke her husband and cooked the fish. Four divisions were made; the parents eating their portions at once. The mother would not agree to her husband's suggestion to wake the children to partake of the warm and savoury midnight feast. However, she carefully put away their portions into their baskets.1

'Throughout the islands each member of the family has a separate foodbasket, so that if hungry at night he should only take his own share, and not encroach upon his neighbour's.

Now, Inseparable and her twin-brother were all the time awake, but did not let their parents know the circumstance. In vain they waited for their mother to fetch them to share their good things. Potiki and Tarakorekore enjoyed a thorough good supper, but their children were not to get a taste until morning. The twins wept in secret. As soon as their parents were soundly asleep, Inseparable proposed to her brother that they should flee away for ever. At first the boy hesitated, but eventually agreed to comply with his sister's wishes. Cautiously opening the sliding door of their house, they started on their journey. Upon reaching an elevated point of rock, they sat down and again wept, each filling a little natural hollow in the rock with their parting tears, without, however, in the least relenting in their purpose. At last they leaped up into the sky, Inseparable holding on to the extremity of her brother's girdle.

As soon as the morning star became visible, the mother went to rouse the children, so that they might eat their fish and taro; but they were gone. Their little bed of fragrant dried grass was cold, though moist with tears. Hastily summoning her husband, a strict search was made. The path taken by the twins was traced by their tears. The little hollows filled from their eyes revealed the spot where they had last rested on earth. But no further trace could be discovered. In utter perplexity the now sorrowful and repentant parents looked up at the sky, where the sun had not yet risen, and, to their great surprise, saw their beloved children shining brightly there. Vainly they called on Inseparable and her brother to return. To stay longer on earth without these dearly loved, though ungrateful, children could not be thought of: so then father and mother leaped right up into the heavens in hot pursuit of the "Twins." But the children had got the start of