Now, be it known that the spirit of Hinemoa hovers around Mokoia like unto a bright halo around the sun, and the hills and the vales, the rocks and the stones, the trees, and the hot and cold springs, all whisper tales to her memory. Her home was at Ouhata, a jutting point on the shores of Rotorua, where stood a village of her tribe. She was the daughter of the chief Unukaria, and the fame of her beauty spread far and wide over the country, and poets sang of her charms, and warriors plighted their troth in her honour. Never was maiden so talked of in prose and sung of in verse. At Mokoia lived Tutanekai, a foster son of the chief Whakane, who fell sick for love of the beautiful maiden of Ouhata. The two hearts beat as one. Then, as now, the adage that "All is fair in love and war" held good, and it was agreed that Hinemoa should flee to Tutanekai, to whom she had been forbidden, under pain of death, to give her hand. The strains of his flute were to herald the beginning of operations, when the maiden was to paddle her own canoe across the water. Now when the night was calm Tutanekai took his flute, and seating himself upon a rock hard by Kaiwaka on the shore of Mokoia, the sound of his music was wafted by the breeze to the home of Hinemoa. Then Hinemoa came down to the lake to step into her canoe, but, alas! the frail craft had been hauled up high and dry upon the land. To launch it herself was impossible, and to seek assistance would be but to divulge her movements. There was no course open but to swim, and, with the innate courage of her race, she was equal to the occasion. She took six empty gourds and fastened them to her body, on either side, and then plunged from a rock into the lake. The stars and the moon shone upon her from above, but the waters were wide, and there was no guide save the music of Tutanekai, but with love at the prow she shaped her course bravely until she landed on the shores of Mokoia, at a point where a warm fountain bubbled up amidst the rocks, and which is known even unto this day as "Hinemoa's Bath."
Far o'er the lake slept romantic Mokoia, While the pale moon shone bright from above, And on a rock the brave Tutanekai Tootled his flute to the gay song of love. Softly lamenting sings he to his darling, "Come to my arms, O my sweet Hinemoa, Let not the sorrow of anguish divide us; Come, that we never may part any more." Gently the echo sped on the night air, Till spell-like it broke on the glad maiden's ear; Lightly she came to the brink of the water, And swam o'er its surface so limpid and clear; Brightly the stars shone forth from the heavens, Glittering like gems in a mantle of blue, And the strains of the flute seem'd to ripple the water, Wafted on by the wings of the wind as it blew. Swift the dark beauty swept o'er the wavelets Till she kiss'd the white sand of Mokoia's fair shore; When brave Tutanekai, ceasing his music, Cried, "Come to my arms, O my sweet Hinemoa," Lock'd in embraces, the lover and maiden Were wedded by Cupid, who flew from above, And dark Hinemoa and brave Tutanekai, 'Neath the light of the moon sang their anthem of love.