"The moment we were perceived, one of their women made a signal to us, by holding up a red mat, and waving it in the air, while she repeatedly cried out at the same time in a loud and shrill voice, haromai, haromai, haromai, (come hither) the customary salutation of friendship and hospitality.
John Nicholas, Narrative of a Voyage to New Zealand, 1817"
Greetings from local blogger, Rest Area 300
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