Many weeks passed by,

and no matter how she tried,

she couldn’t forget her experience,

didn’t know whether to laugh or cry…..

She had explained to her mother,

about an old hut where she spent the night,

and a strange man like no other,

and how he treated her right…..

But something was troubling her,

couldn’t understand what it was,

the ugly old man had caused a stir,

she just felt at loss…..

Decided to confide in her mother,

in whom she felt comfortable and fine,

hoped her mum would uncover,

what was troubling her mind…..

About the valley she asked,

who did it belong too,

wanted to know its past,

and what her mother knew…..

Her mother didn’t know very much,

only that it was native land,

returned to the tribe as such,

after being in the crowns hands…..

Its history was bloody and sad,

during the early colonial days,

the fighting between two foes was bad,

but the British forces got their ways…..

The British were a mixed army,

including Dutch Irish and a harsh Russian Major,

had heavy artillery and well armed,

even had Maori’s fighting their own……

They slaughtered all the men,

and as they laid dying they’d chant and scream,

beat the children and raped the women,

it was not a pretty scene…..

Then they left the women and children,

in the cold snow to die,

its amazing how some survived,

maybe they all pray to the same God in heaven…..

Both women went silent,

deep in their own thoughts,

Maria could understand the resentment,

that the old man may have thought…..

Then her mother spoke again,

its said the tears of the children and women,

were tears of joy and pain,

for they flowed with the tears of the mountain……

And where the fighting took place,

the blood of one another,

washed into the mountain’s flowing stream,

and the stream flowed in one color…..

the valley has been known for years,

as te tangi o te whenua,

the crying of the land,

we call it today the valley of tears…..

Then she related Maria,

that their family never ventured there,

out of respect for the brown man,

and certainly not a place for a white woman…..

Its said when the mountain blows its steeple,

the winds roars through the valley below,

the mountain is wailing for his people,

its not a place to go……………………….to be continued…………………