The house was furnished with exquisitely woven mats, and made sweet with the odour of scented mosses and fragrant leaves.
It was a custom that certain times of the year should be set apart for amusements, such as whipping tops, casting darts, and other games formerly the delight of young people. One of these festivals was attended by a chief named Hutu, who had come to the village where Pare lived that he might join in the spear-throwing. His spear flew far beyond that of any other of the competitors. This, together with his youthful grace and great agility, made him the theme of conversation, and the recipient of admiring glances, the meed of reward for skill as best player being awarded by the common consent of all. Pare looked on from the verandah of her house as day after day the sports went on, and her heart was won by the handsome stranger. On the last day of the festival, the spear of Hutu fell near the dwelling of Pare, and she ran swiftly, took up the dart, and carried it inside her house. Hutu followed his spear as far as the door, but would not enter. He begged her to surrender his weapon, but she refused to return it until he would come into the house.
Now, it is the custom among Maori ladies not
