If you name a town after an insect often eaten by birds and occasionally humans, it's probably destined to be consumed by something larger.
Certainly, quiet Kihikihi - named by Maori after the noisy and apparently tasty cicada - seems set to be gobbled up by neighbouring Te Awamutu.
Descend the hill past Te Awamutu's southernmost houses and in barely a fence wire's width you're confronted with a sign proclaiming Kihikihi.
Where once the two tussled for district supremacy, quiet, countrified Kihikihi now seems on a one-way path to becoming a mere suburb of bustling Te Awamutu.
It began differently on this day 141 years ago. March 31, 1864 was the first day of the three-day battle of Orakau - the final battle of the Land Wars, which ended with Waikato Maori forced into exile in the King Country, their land confiscated.
The site of the critical battle is a neatly mown roadside picnic area 3km from Kihikihi on the Arapuni Rd, where memorials stand to the chief protagonists, renowned Ngati Maniapoto chief, Rewi Maniapoto, and the man who laid siege to his pa, Lieutenant General Sir Duncan Cameron.
A bronze plaque records how 300 Maori men, women and children "poorly armed and with little food and no water held at bay 1500 better equipped British and colonial troops, refusing to surrender. On the third day [April 2] a remnant of the Maoris (sic) escaped across the Puniu River".
At the battle, a famous declaration of defiance was uttered: "Ka whawhai tonu matou, ake, ake!" (We shall fight on forever!) The defence cost the lives of 150 Maori and 15 British.
Some attribute the defiant cry to Rewi Maniapoto. He, though, lived another 30 years, dying peacefully at 87 in Kihikihi, a township growing from the military settlement. In his last days, he watched from his front porch as another memorial was built to honour him.
His grave lies there, beside words that extol him as "a custodian of harmony between European and Maori" - though it's possible he lay more peacefully after the 1995 settlement between the Government and Tainui 101 years after his death.
Such legends, kept alive by enthusiastic amateur historians, tend to be disguised by what most passersby see - just another strip of motley shops - on their way to destinations like the Waitomo Caves.
A 17-point heritage trail completed in 2002 around significant and picturesque buildings tells some of the town's tales.
But it's the sort of place where a question to a shopkeeper soon has you sitting around the dining table of Max Quirk, a retired electrician who's one of several local history buffs. The table quickly disappears under piles of photos, meeting minutes, notes and old clippings.
You should have been here last week, he tells me. The town hall's 100th anniversary was celebrated with a ceremony and a new Historic Places Trust plaque.
Kihikihi, it turns out, is also the sort of place where even wooden halls tell great stories. For instance, the January 16, 1905 minutes of the first meeting of the Town Board in the hall newly built after the previous one burned down - the suspect perpetrator only ever identified as an "incendiary rat".
The minutes show the lively social life of the frontier town. By day, commercial travellers could hire the hall for five shillings, travelling shows for 20 shillings plus seven shillings and sixpence if they wanted the piano, too. The hall's inaugural ball ended at 4am.
Not everyone was happy to pay. Before the hall had a resident piano, "the world- famous athlete Donald Dinnie" refused to pay five shillings to return the borrowed Alpha Hotel's piano. He carried it on his back, steadied by two helpers.
Interestingly, the Alpha Hotel got its name because it was the first hotel thirsty patrons came to after they'd slogged through the alcohol-free King Country.
Quirk's not sure how Kihikihi got its name, but another proud local scholar, Ian Leadley, happily drops by with the story.
In 1822, Ngapuhi, led by Hongi Hika and armed with muskets, had local warriors on the run. One fleeing band called in at the pa of Ngati Ngutu, who had no more than potatoes to feed them. Their youngsters gathered nutritious kihikihi (cicadas) from the bush to swell the offering, hospitality that earned the site a name and, since 2003, the town that replaced it, an unusual sculpture - a large, metal winged cicada.
Kihikihi's military origins still show in present-day residential sections of up to two acres (0.8ha). Each soldier got a one-acre (0.4ha) block in town and, depending on rank, 50 to 80 acres (20-32ha) of farmland.
Hilly Kihikihi's demise as a major town was confirmed when the railway line was put in through flatter Te Awamutu.
Quirk and Leadley are happy with their laid-back burg's blend of town and country but wonder if another modern convenience - sewerage - might boost Kihikihi's growth.
Once septic tanks are replaced with sewage pipes, the soldier-size sections can reduce in size.
Kihikihi may yet be too big to swallow.
pippa@stevenson.net.nz
www.teawamutu.co.nz/local-info/history/heritage-kihikihi/index.shtml
<EM>Philippa Stevenson:</EM> This town has earned an identity all its own
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