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Rh And the wild korero went on. Tangi songs were chanted, and there were speeches of savage, boastful jubilation made—"great swelling words." But from a lone little thatched hut on one side of the crowded parade ground came a long-sustained crying sound, a sobbing heart-breaking dirge, rising and falling like a Highland coronach—a keening for the dead. Te Hau-karewa made lamentation for her slain warrior.