When Hauraki died, and his body lay at Wirinake to be seen for the last time by his relations, there was a great gathering of the Rarawa and Ngapuhi, to fulfil the last rights due to a chief. And when the _pihe_ had been sung,[30] then the chiefs arose one after another to speak in praise of the dead. This was the speech of Te Anu, he who is known as having been in his youth the best spearman of all the Ngapuhi tribes. Bounding to and fro before the corpse, with his famous spear in hand, he spoke as follows: "Farewell, Hauraki! go, taking with you your kindness and hospitality, your generosity and valour, and leave none behind who can fill your place. Your death was noble; you revenged yourself with your own hand; you saved yourself without the help of any man. Your life was short; but so it is with heroes. Farewell, O Hauraki, farewell." At this time it was night, and the sister and also the young wife of Hauraki went in the dark and sat beside the river. They sat weeping silently, and spinning a cord wherewith to strangle themselves. The flax was wet with their tears. And as they did this the moon arose. So when the sister of Hauraki saw the rising moon, she broke silence, and lamented aloud, and this was her lament--the part I remember of it:-- It is well with thee, O moon! You return from death, Spreading your light on the little waves. Men say, "Behold the moon re-appears;" But the dead of this world return no more. Grief and pain spring up in my heart as from a fountain. I hasten to death for relief. Oh, that I might eat those numerous soothsayers Who could not foretell his death. Oh, that I might eat the Governor, For his was the war! [Footnote 30: The _pihe_ is a funeral chant sung standing before the dead. It is a very curious composition, and of great antiquity, having been composed long before the natives came to this country. Part of the language is obsolete. It has allusions which point in a remarkable manner to the origin of the natives, and from whence they have come. They do not themselves understand these allusions, but they are clear enough to any person who has taken the trouble to trace the race from which they are derived through the Pacific Islands, far into north latitude, next into Asia, and to observe the gradual modifications of language and tradition occasioned by time and change of abode.] At this time men came who were in search of these women, and prevented the sister of Hauraki from killing herself at that time. They watched her for several days, but she died of grief. But the wife of Hauraki consented to live that she might rear her son, so that he might fight with the Kapotai on a future day. So she called his name Maiki, which is the name of the hill on which stood the flagstaff, the cutting down of which was the cause of the war. He was, therefore, called by this name, that he might always be reminded of his father's death.