Once the natives were very angry because Mr. Angas went under a cooking shed, having with him the portfolio containing the head of Te Heu-heu. Even his hands were tapu because they had painted the portrait of so great a chief, and he was subjected to many annoyances in consequence. Finding that the tapu was likely to become exceedingly inconvenient, he put a stop to further encroachments by saying that, if the people made any more complaints, he would put Te Heu-heu’s head into the fire. This threat shocked them greatly, but had the desired effect. Sometimes this sanctity of the chief is exceedingly inconvenient to himself. On one occasion, when Mr. Angas was visiting the chief Te Whero-Whero, he found the great man superintending the plantation of a kumera ground and the erection of a house for himself. Rain was falling fast, but the old chief sat on the damp ground, wrapped up in his blanket, and appearing to be entirely unconcerned at the weather, a piece of sail-cloth over the blanket being his only defence. He did not rise, according to the custom of the old heathen chiefs, who will sometimes sit for several days together, in a sort of semi-apathetic state. To the request that his portrait might be taken Te Whero-Whero graciously acceded, and talked freely on the all important subject of land while the painter was at work. Finding the rain exceedingly unpleasant, the artist suggested that they had better move into a house. The old chief, however, knowing that he could not enter a house without making it his property by reason of contact with his sacred person, declined to move, but ordered a shelter to be erected for the white man. This was done at once, by fastening a blanket to some upright poles: and so the portrait was completed, the painter under cover and the sitter out in the rain. Localities can be rendered tapu, even those which have not been touched by the person who lays the tapu upon them. The chief Te Heu-heu, for example, was pleased to declare the volcano Tongariro under the tapu, by calling it his backbone, so that not a native would dare approach it, nor even look at it, if such an act could be avoided. Mr. Angas was naturally desirous of visiting this mountain, but found that such a scheme could not be carried out. He offered blankets and other articles which a New Zealander prizes; but all to no purpose, for the tapu could not be broken. The chief even tried to prevent his white visitors from travelling in the direction of the mountain, and only gave his consent after ordering that the sacred Tongariro should not even be looked at. So deeply is this superstition engraven in the heart of the New Zealander, that even the Christian natives are afraid of such a tapu, and will not dare to approach a spot that has thus been made sacred by a tohunga. Reasoning is useless with them; they will agree to all the propositions, admit the inference to be drawn from them, and then decline to run so terrible a risk.