Te Wheke a Muturangi

At last, the foamy trail of the Wheke turned in towards land at one of the many entrances to a wilderness of inlets. The Wheke had made a mistake: she was trapped in the sound known to this day as Whekenui.

She whipped around to face her enemies. With shouts and screams, the crew closed in, beating, chopping and stabbing at the tentacles, trying to reach the head of the wheke. The magic power of the wheke enabled her to heal quickly. She lifted people out of the waka and flung them far off onto the rocks or held them under the water to choke and drown. The sea frothed with a mixture of human and wheke blood.  Many of the crew now struggled in the water, easy prey.

Kupe shouted for gourds.  He quickly lashed them together with flax rope and threw them into the waves to look like men's heads.  The wheke, believing them to be more heads to attack, knotted her tentacles around them to drown them. While she was thus occupied, Matahourua came up alongside her, Kupe raised Rakatuwhenua and brought it down on the head of the wheke, full force, cleaving it and leaving a bloody, slaughtered creature floating softly on the red water.

The magic of Rakatuwhenua had defeated the power of the wheke.  A great cheer went up from the exhausted warriors.  

(Excerpt from First Flight)