Myth Writing

This Term we have been studying myths and composing our own. We understood that many contain mythical creatures and a moral or lesson. We read a myth that one of Ms Saxon's classes at Redcliffs School had written about the cliffs becoming red. Following this we wrote one about how our Port Hills were formed. Please have a read, it is fantastic! We have employed some Room 12 artists and are making it into a book.
Please come in a take the time to read some of the children's myths, they are really proud of their writing.

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How The Port Hills Were Formed

Room 12, St Martins School

May, 2013

Long, long ago there was a vast land, a very flat land. Settled there was a Māori tribe.

Each day at dawn the men of the tribe would hunt for game while the women and children foraged for berries.

One day chief Hongi-Hika’s wife gave birth to a beautiful baby boy.

This child would grow strong, help the village, and become the future chief.

The tribe was delighted and wanted to have a hangi to celebrate the future chief Marupunga.

Chief Hongi-Hika summoned his strongest men to travel to the sea to bring back the finest fish.

They took spears and nets and fished for many days and nights until the sea was empty.

The men returned to the village with armfuls of ika.

Meanwhile Tangaroa, the sea god, was heartbroken because the men of the tribe had taken all his children.

Tangaroa cried for hours then dried his tears. He became furious and complained to his father Ranginui, the sky god.

“Father, father, the tribe has taken all of my fish and will eat them tonight. You must punish them!”

Ranginui loved Tangaroa, but he was growing old and weary. His eyesight was beginning to fade, but he was determined to help his son.

Ranginui pondered on how he could punish the men of the tribe for taking all the children of Tangaroa, his grandchildren.

Ranginui called on his friend, Rehua, the god of the stars, to provide him with an endless supply of meteors.

“Rehua, my dear friend, my beloved son is in trouble and you must help me.”

“What is the trouble Ranginui?” “My grandchildren, my grandchildren, a tribe has taken my grandchildren.

You must give me meteors with which to punish them.”

“Ranginui, don’t you think that I should do it? Your eyesight is not as sharp as it once was.”

“Why no, I must help my son.” With that Ranginui grabbed a handful of meteors and hurled them at the land below.

Back at the tribe the men were preparing the hangi. A child was gazing at the clouds above when he said,

“Father, why are there shooting stars in the daytime?”

The men all looked skyward and saw an enormous meteor shower hurtling towards them.

The chief heard a commotion. “Run for cover!” he roared.

Suddenly the whole ocean seemed to explode. Huge waves crashed onto the land.

From above Ranginui heard an ear-piercing scream from Tangaroa. Tangaroa filled with rage.

He thought that the villagers were throwing rocks at him. He was going to seek revenge.

Tangaroa called on his brother, Tuwhaia, the god of lava, and ordered him to make volcanoes to destroy the village.

Under the sea lava began to bubble. Clouds of smoke billowed into the sky.

Ranginui wheezed as he realised what a terrible thing he had done.

Volcanoes began to rise out of the sea. The village was destroyed as the land grew taller to form hills above the sea.

And to this day we can see the Port Hills rising above the sea of Lyttelton, named Ohinehou by the tribe that settled there.

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How the North and South Islands Split

Evelyn Fink

Long, long ago in a native forest, where the trees swayed with the rhythm of the wind, lived a Maori tribe. They had settled in a clear opening surrounded with native bush and wonderful creatures. Through the lush forest stretched a flowing river.

This river was not ordinary, for in this river lived a fearsome Taniwha. The Maori tribe was terrified of this Taniwha because it had devoured their strongest man, Whaitupu. No one had respected Whaitupu and he had run away in grief not knowing what swam up and down the length of that river. And now Whaitupu was a sprit in the land of the dead.

Up in that land Whaitupu grew stronger and more vicious every day and became a god, the god of strength. One dark afternoon when the tribe’s men were hauling in the last load of fish Whaitupu sought revenge. He glared down through the angry clouds at the clearing and pondered.

“I shall wait for a year to pass then cause destruction.”

Meanwhile down in the clearing the chief of the tribe, chief Hakamatua  summoned his people to take cover it was the depressed Sky Father Ranginui still getting over his heat breaking part with Papatunuku, Earth Mother. He cried and cried causing a frightful downfall plummeting for the village bellow. He bellowed in his thundery voice calling for his beloved wife causing crashing thunder. What a gloomy afternoon when the tribe was huddled away in the meeting house deciding what to do next.

“We have been having trouble from this Ranginui for the last few moons” cried Hakamatua.

“We shall put a stop to it,” said Kiawhi, Hakamatua’s wife. “Any suggestions?”

“Well” started Whanakia. “With my arrows bows and flint arrow heads we can shoot this Ranginui down.”

“Good idea Whanakia,” said Hakamatua. “We shall get to it right away.”

 So the tribe gathered around the gardens while they waited for Whanakia to collect his arrows and bow and flint arrowheads. Whanakia triumphantly marched over to the tribe, placed one arm on his hunting bow and wrapped his free hand arrow the arrow. He pulled back the flax string and, TWANG. The arrow shot up into the miserable skies. It flew past the low face of Ranginui and soared into the stars.

“Bad shot Whanakia” grumbled Hakamatua. “Watch the arrow head next time” and with that he marched off. Whankia was disappointed by Hakamatua’s cruel remark but he believed that Hakamatua was right so he walked off behind him. Once again the tribe gathered in the meetinghouse.

Up in the land of the dead Whaitupu sniggered as he watched the tribe try to shoot his godfather Ranginui.

“They’ll never get him down him down the godfather is the greatest living beast” he laughed “ they’ll never get him down they are a hopeless tribe,” at least he thought they were hopeless. Then Whitupu coughed. Smoke.

The tribe had gathered around the bonfire.

“Smoke” said Timatuku another tribe member “is the answer, no arrow or spear or knife will kill Ranginui, smoke will. We will block Rangi’s lungs and he will fall.”

“Mmmm”

“Ah ha”

“Good idea”

The tribe was hoping desperately the Timatuku was right, and they went on clutching their feather coats sheltering from the bucket fills of rain as they watched the smoke wafting up into the blackened sky. Though it was still raining, and a very hard rain it was, the smoke of the fire could still escape while the flames drowned. And this way they tribe spent their afternoon. Then out of the dark sky the moon emerged from behind the inked clouds. The star god, Matarikis children followed the sliver moon and sparkled in the night sky.

“Looks like sleep time” said Hakamatua wearily “goodnight.” Timatuku put more wood on the fire and whispered to the smoke,

“Rise my smoke when we are asleep block Rangi’s lungs and let him Fall Fall Fall” and with that he wondered off.

Whatupu coughed and wheezed. Timatuku’s smoke had blocked Whatupu’s lungs instead. Whatupu was furious.

“That stupid tribe is trying to kill me again” he roared “I must punish them!” Lightning shot out of his cracked fingernails and struck the bush around the clearing. Tane the forest god’s trees had gone up in flames. The terrifying fire spread around the clearing. The tribe was surrounded with Whatupu’s ring of fire then he screamed

“You won’t get away with killing me twice you foolish tribe for I am the strongest and most powerful god that ever lived. Today you all will be up here with me in the land of the dead and you will bow to me. And Hakamatua, you will regret turning on me and sending me away out of this stupid tribe.” The furious Whatupu banged his fist on the burning land. Cracks spread over the land and formed deep crevasses and separated into three islands.

And to this day we all see that our land, Aotearoa, is separated into three beautiful islands, Stuart island, Rakiura, the south island, Te Wai Pounamu, and the north island, Te ika-a-maui.

How The Castle Hill Rocks Were Formed

Rosie Howard

Long, long ago, in the southern island of New Zealand, slouched in his throne, was the war god Ares. He was sick and tired of being alone with nothing to fight, nobody to sneer at, nobody to assist for war, nothing.

One day Ares’s arch enemy, Dionysus, the wine god, called him. He was dressed in a purple cloak and a nest of grape wines planted on his curly, black mob of hair, his shaggy beard resting on his chest. “My dear Ares,” he said, lazily munching on a bunch of grapes.

“What is it you want from me wine man?” said he.

“Oh, I’m just here to give you some personal advice. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a war, you know I am quite fond of the fighting part!” Dionysus said.

“Hmph, well who do I have to fight against?”

“Well, I was thinking of your cousin Tane, you know, the god of the forest.”

“All right, I accept your challenge, be off with you,” he shouted, dismissing Dionysus. With a flick of his hand the golden doors were thrust open and Dionysus clicked his fingers and mounted a flying winged horse and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Meanwhile, Tane god of the forests was sitting surrounded by beautiful, glossy trees, silently swaying in the breeze. While sitting at his desk, Tane was hurriedly scanning a letter he had received from his cousin, god of war who he loathed and would take any chance he got to fight him.

“My lord, a messenger is here to see you.” Said a young guard entering the room.

“ Bring him in then”, replied Tane springing up from his throne startled from the sudden noise.

A man dressed in indigo purple with a mass of curly black hair appeared in the doorway of Tane’s well- groomed tree hut.

He crouched down and bowed politely.

Tane grinned deviously.

“Dionysus, what brings you here”, he asked calmly twisting his ring around his finger.

“I am here because I am concerned about you,” said Dionysus starting to pace the room stroking his beard as the breeze rustled overhead.

Tane stopped twisting his ring around his finger and stood looking at Dionysus.

“You see, Neptune, god of sea has a brother, by the name of Zeus.” He said casually.

“He has nothing that I need.” Tane sneered.

“Uncase you have not noticed he is the god of lightening bolts” replied Dionysus mysteriously. “ You could use him, you could beg him to help you,: said he.

“ What is this rubbish?” Spat Tane.

“If you ever need Zeus’s help, you must go straight to his palace,” Dionysus replied firmly.

Silence returned to the room as Tane glared at Dionysus, nostrils flared.

“ Well, I should be off,” smiled Dionysus, leaping to his feet.

“Very well,” sighed Tane “ Guards escort this god back to his carriage then prepare a bag supplied with some of my strongest medicine and some food, and hurry.”

“ Oh, I do not think that will be necessary Tane,” smirked Dionysus.

And he clicked his fingers, and hauled himself up onto a flying, winged horse,” Good-day to you Tane.” And with that he flew out the door into the sunset, leaving an overwhelmed Tane staring up out of his tree hut window.

Mysterious shadows passed under the clouds, as Tane climbed towards Zeus’s sky mansion, exhaling breath every minute. He winced as a ball of light shaped like a persons head zoomed toward him.

“ Welcome to Zeus’s castle,” the ball of light boomed “ remove all weapons at the entrance door, follow, quickly!” It squawked dramatically.

Tane strode forward confidently, although deep inside tension grew and grew until it was clenched, bubbling in his stomach…

The ball of light led Tane straight to the throne room, where Zeus stood blue robes billowing, beard poised dramatically. His back was facing Tane and his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration.

“ My lord.” Bellowed the ball of light doing an awkward backflip, that was obviously meant to be a bow. “ Bow”, it whispered through clenched teeth to Tane.

Tane obediently bowed.

Zeus turned and raised his eyebrows.

“ Yes?” he said silkily.

“Zeus, I have matters to discuss,” said Tane stiffly, “I do not wish to be long.”

Zeus held up a hand. Tane looked annoyed, but thought better than to argue.

“ Lotus leave us,” cried Zeus, eyes still on Tane.

When the ball of light had waded out of the room Zeus spoke.

“ Begin,” he said and settled himself upon his throne, clasped his hands and looked at Tane intently.

Tane took a nervous breath and began to explain about Dionysus, Ares and the war.

When Tane finally finished, Zeus spoke for the second time.

“ So you want me to throw one thousand lightening bolts down on top of Ares’s army?” he asked.

Tane nodded.

“ Very well, but in return I get gold?” Said Zeus.

Tane nodded again.

“ Bear in mind these bolts will expand into enormous rocks, crushing anyone, even your own army,” he said.

“ I do not care, I will not be there to experience it, said Tane, “ come Zeus to the edge of the clouds and we shall begin,” said Tan striding towards the door, Zeus right behind him…

The war had started, blood covered the ground, Ares strode through the crowd slashing at anyone who came near him.

A flash of lightening hushed the battlefield. All soldiers peered skywards towards the grey clouds rumbling in rage. Ares stabbed and hacked, then realised the battle had suddenly turned silent.

“ What, what is it,” he yelled pushing and shoving through the crowd towards the front.

An ear-piercing scream echoed through the battlefield, as a thousand lightening bolts plummeted towards the two armies. They shone brightly, blue gleaming in the blinding light. They collided with the ground causing many soldiers to tumble to the ground. Once they had hit the ground, they expanded into enormous grey rocks. They loomed over the fallen soldiers while they scrambled backwards dodging the growing rocks.

Tane smiled through the clouds and called to Zeus.

“ This is excellent, keep firing!”

Zeus was exhausted after producing the bolts and suddenly fell to the ground to weak to stand.

“ Take the bolts throw them at Ares, get your revenge,” he wheezed staggering to his feet leaning on a cloud.

Tane stared shocked.

“ I can’t possibly, you, but, what.”

“ Take them,” ordered Zeus.

Tane started wildly thrusting the bolts down, taking careful aim at Ares, but missing every-time.

After twenty throws Tane became restless.

“ Oh, please, come on you pointless, reckless, idiotic things, DO something!” He stormed.

He raised his hand, lightening bolt gripped tightly in it, he aimed slightly to the left of Ares and thrust the bolt with all his might, It propelled down towards Ares, soaring directly at him.

Ares whirled round and squinted at the bolt of lightening his face full of dread and fear. He managed a small scream and then it hit.

Ares lay on the ground, blood spurting out of his bloody wound. The bolt had pierced straight through his heart causing him to have a slow, but painful death.

Tane peered down through the clouds and whooped with joy.

“ Ares is dead, Ares is DEAD!” He yelled triumphantly.

He stuck his head out of the clouds and watched the war gods dying body form into an enormous rock. His large head carved into it.

And to this day we can visit the hill were the battle commenced. It is known by the name of Castle Hill, Kura Tawhiti.