escape for a while, but passing on to the outer
edge of the reef, in the hope of traversing the ocean, he inevitably
fell into another net artfully concealed by Akaanga. From this second
net escape was impossible. The demons drew the captive ghosts out of the
nets, and ruthlessly dashing out their brains on the sharp coral they
carried off the shattered victims in triumph to devour them in the lower
world. Ghosts from Ngatangiia ascended the noble mountain range which
stretches across the island, dipping into the sea at Tuoro.
Inexpressibly weary and sad was this journey over a road which foot of
living wight had never trod. The departed spirits of this tribe met at a
great iron-wood tree, of which some branches were green and others dead.
The souls that trod on the green branches came back to life; but the
souls that crawled on to the dead boughs were at once caught in the net
either of Muru or of Akaanga.[70]

[70] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp.
169 _sq._; _id._, "Mangaia (Hervey Islands)," _op. cit._ p. 346.

In Rarotonga, as in Mangaia, the lot of warriors who died in battle was
much happier than that of the poor wretches who had the misfortune to
die quietly in bed or to be otherwise ignominiously snuffed out. The
gallant ghosts were said to join Tiki, who in Rarotonga appears to have
been a dead warrior, whereas in Mangaia, as we saw, Tiki was a dead
woman. In the Rarotongan Hades, which also went by the name of Avaiki,
this Tiki sat at the threshold of a very long house built with walls of
reeds, and surrounded by shrubs and flowers of fadeless bloom and
never-failing perfume. Each ghost on his arrival had to make an offering
to the warder Tiki, who, thus propitiated, admitted him to the house.
There, sitting at their ease, eating, drinking, dancing, or sleeping,
the brave of past ages dwelt in unwithering beauty and perpetual youth;
there they welcomed newcomers, and there they told the story of their
heroic exploits on earth and fought their old battles over again. But
ghosts who had nothing to give to Tiki were compelled to stay outside in
rain and darkness for ever, shivering with cold and hunger, watching
with envious eyes the joyous revels of the inmates, and racked with the
vain desire of being admitted to share them.[71]

[71] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, p.
170; John Williams, _Narrative of Missionary Enterprises in
the South Sea