gs. Even their largest tribal
or meeting halls had but the one door and window; the Maori mind
seemed as incapable of adding thereto, as of constructing more than
one room under a single roof. On the other hand, the dyed patterns
on the reed wainscoting, and the carvings on the posts, lintel and
boards, showed real beauty and a true sense of line and curve.
Still less reason is there to find fault with their canoes, the larger
of which were not only strangely picturesque, but, urged by as many as
a hundred paddles, flew through the water at a fine speed, or under
sail made long coasting voyages in seas that are pacific only in name.
To the carving on these crafts the savage artists added decoration by
red ochre, strips of dyed flax, gay feathers and mother-o'-pearl. Both
the building of the canoes and their adornment entailed long months of
labour. So did the dressing of the fibre of the flax and palm-lily,
and the weaving therefrom of "mats" or mantles, and of kirtles. Yet
the making of such ordinary clothing was simple indeed compared to the
manufacture of a chief's full dress mat of _kiwi_ feathers. The soft,
hairy-looking plumage of the _kiwi_ (apteryx) is so fine, each feather
so minute, that one mantle would occupy a first-rate artist for two
years. Many of these mantles, whether of flax, feathers or dog-skin,
were quaintly beautiful as well as warm and waterproof.
Nor did Maori skill confine itself to ornamenting the clothing of
man. The human skin supplied a fresh and peculiar field for durable
decoration. This branch of art, that of Moko or tattooing, they
carried to a grotesque perfection. Among the many legends concerning
their demi-god Maui, a certain story tells how he showed them the way
to tattoo by puncturing the muzzle of a dog, whence dogs went with
black muzzles as men see them now. For many generations the patterns
cut and pricked on the human face and body were faithful imitations
of what were believed to be Maui's designs. They were composed of
straight lines, angles, and cross-cuts. Later the hero Mataora taught
a more graceful style which dealt in curves, spirals, volutes and
scroll-work. Apart from legend it is a matter of reasonable certitude
that the Maoris brought tattooing with them from Polynesia. Their
marking instruments were virtually the same as those of their tropical
cousins; both, for instance, before the iron age of the nineteenth
century, often used the wing-bones of sea-birds t
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