Carrot squinted out the window then swivelled his head, looking for an audience. “Carrot!” he said. “Oh no!”
Pa Rumble was reading the newspaper and mumbling to himself. “Russians, Yanks, Communists, Capitalists, damn politicians, religious zealots. No sense, just greed. All this paper is good for is lighting the fire. Oh no, Carrot. Oh no!” He folded it, shoved it in the box beside the wood stove, and got up to stroke Carrot’s head feathers down flat. “What is the world coming to? When will they ever learn?”
“Old bugger,” Carrot purred.
“Crusty? Let’s eat.” Pa lifted the lid on the camp oven and took out a half-loaf of bread. He cut some slices and tossed a couple of them on the stove top. “What are we gonna do, bird? Ma and Tredget won’t be back for days, the tide’s too high for getting seaweed, and the news is rubbish. Cup of tea? Crusty? Carrot?”
“Zealots,” mumbled Carrot.
“Never a truer word said,” agreed Pa, turning the blackened bread as it started to smoke.
“Look out,” said the parrot, but it was a half-hearted warning.
Awatea was heading towards the Rumbles’ cabin. He hadn’t been back to Mangokuri since the summer. Hurray for holidays and his grandmother insisting he come to stay! The smoking chimney meant the Rumbles were home.
The sound of his feet on the verandah set off a great noise from inside. Carrot appeared at the window, flapping his colourful wings and shouting, “Boy! Boy!”
Pa had barely opened the door before Carrot was perched on Awa’s shoulder. He grabbed a beakful of floppy hair for balance, just missing Awa’s ear.
“Don’t burst your boiler, Carrot,” said Pa, smiling. “Come in, Boy!”
Awa nudged a hand under the bird’s chest and Carrot walked down his arm to his elbow and looked him in the eye. “Boy, Boy.” His head nodded as he spoke.
“Come on, you two, toast and tea,” said Pa.
“Crusty? Boy?” asked Carrot.
Awa sat at the table while Pa talked. Tredget, Pa and Ma’s son, had come home after many years overseas. They had all gone off to see family and friends but Pa and Carrot came back early. Pa was tired of people and travelling, and Carrot had been a real nuisance. Ma and Tredget were staying with Ma and Pa’s daughter.
“You left and didn’t come back,” Awa said.
“Yes. Tredget just walked in the door after all those years away. Then he sold some treasure – got quite a lot of money actually – and he took us visiting. They should be back in a couple of days.”
“Treasure?” Awa knew.
“Ambergris! That boy had a wee hoard stashed away somewhere. He did very well for himself.”
“X marks the spot,” Awa said to himself. He was eager to check his own little hoard of ambergris!
“Go on then. Finish your tea and take Carrot for a walk. That is one bored bird!”
Carrot nodded furiously on Awa’s shoulder.
“Thanks, Pa Rumble. We’ll go and check out the beach.”
He and Carrot set off for the secret valley at a wobbly trot. To steady himself, Carrot nibbled on Awa’s ear. Awa brushed him off, thinking he’d wear his knitted beanie with the pompom next time. Pompoms had no purpose that he could see, but Carrot could grip it to steady himself since he was too lazy to fly.
Up the valley, he followed some recent horse tracks under the trees. That would be Toss the shepherd on his rounds, thought Awa. He measured three strides from the trunk of the old pōhutukawa tree towards the little creek and kicked at the leaf mould. Carrot took off into the lower branches of the tree and noisily began climbing from one branch to the next. From higher up he yelled, “Boy! Boy!”
Awa’s shoe bumped a rock, and he knelt to brush away the leaves. Yes! X marked the rock.
“I’ll be up soon, you silly cockatoo!” he yelled back. He removed the rock and began to dig. He pulled out a jar, brushed the dirt off it and unscrewed the lid. His treasure was just as he’d left it, four lumps of ambergris wrapped in brown paper. He replaced the jar and the rock and kicked leaves over it. Then he climbed the pōhutukawa.
The tree hut was different! Rusty pieces of corrugated iron had been nailed to the overhanging branch to make a roof. Under it was a shallow bed made of boards and filled with mingimingi, a springy shrub that tangled its way waist deep over the foothills. Awa had lain on it sometimes. It was like a mattress. He lay down on the bed. Tredget must have slept up here.
In the hollow under the roof branch there was a wooden apple box wrapped in waterproof oilskin. In the box were candles, matches in a jar, and two patched and folded blankets. A newspaper parcel contained a battered black billy, a plate and a cup. Lower down in the hollow was Tredget’s old biscuit tin. Awa opened it. Tredget’s ambergris and the other treasures were gone. Inside was half a packet of cabin bread – still good – a small jar of marmalade, tea leaves in another small jar, a tube of sweetened condensed milk, two kūmara and an onion. A folded note said, Make yourself at home, Boy!
Awa did. He threw one of the blankets over the springy mingimingi, put away the rest of the box and lay down. Carrot perched on the board at the head of the bed, cocked his head and said meaningfully, “Boy!”
“I bet you stayed here too, Carrot?”
“Zealots,” said Carrot.
Awa shook his head. What rubbish was this bird talking now? The tree rocked gently in the soft breeze. Carrot dozed off, and before long, so did Awa.
“Look out! Look out!”
Awa nearly tumbled out of his treetop cradle. He froze, listening. Then he carefully reached over and pressed gently on the parrot’s back. “Shhh, shhh.”
“Shhh, shhh,” said Carrot.
“Ahoy, landlubbers!” shouted a voice from below. “Avast, me hearties, look lively there!” The sound of a horse snorting and stamping followed. Carrot hopped off his perch, crossed the tree hut platform, spread his colourful wings and glided down and out of sight.
“Arrr, Carrot, you birdbrain. If you hadn’t shouted out, I would never have known you were up there.”
“Zealots,” said Carrot. “Hello.”
It must be Toss, Awa thought, and he started to climb down the tree.
“Avast there, it is Awa! Tēnā koe, Boy. I was expecting someone else. Tredget comes here sometimes.”
“Kia ora, Toss. I saw your tracks. Where are you headed?” What looked like a sheep carcass wrapped in mutton cloth was lying over the front of Toss’s saddle.
“Taking Pa Rumble some kai. You wanna ride back? Put your left foot here and grab the back of the saddle.” Toss took his leather boot out of the stirrup and pointed to his heel. Awa stretched his foot up onto Toss’s boot and leaned into the horse, reaching for the saddle. Toss leaned forward, swing-ing his leg up behind him. In one swift movement, Awa was swung up onto the horse’s back.
The horse picked his way along the bush track and onto the foothills of the farm. They could hear big breakers rolling over the rocks below. Carrot perched on the sheep carcass and nodded directions with his head as if he was steering the horse.
Toss stopped the horse occasionally to study the ground.
“What’s up, Toss?”
“Someone’s been driving a tractor onto the beach. Must be coming in over the farm, ’cause Pa hasn’t seen them.”
“What for?”
“I don’t know, but now you’re here you can be a lookout for us, be a vigilante, eh Boy? Keep an eye out for tractor tracks and suspicious behaviour.”
“Sure thing, I’ll keep my eyes peeled.”
Pa and Toss were pleased to see each other. Pa opened a flagon of beer. They hung the sheep up on a verandah rafter and then Pa asked Awa to take two buckets down to the sea and fill them half full of water. “Better balance that way.”
When Awa came back, Pa dropped slabs of mutton into the buckets. “Flies can’t dive, Awa. This meat will be safe under water. Tomorrow when it’s brined, we can smoke it. It’ll keep for weeks.” There were two legs of mutton on the wooden verandah rail. Pa gave one of them to Awa. “Take this home to your kuia and koro and come back tomorrow to help light the smoker.”
Toss used a heavy cleaver to cut through the bones. Chops were lined up on the rail. Carrot perched on the far end, well away from the action. “Poops! Poops! Whoopsie!” he called, and he lifted his tail and pooped onto the grass. Toss and Pa were laughing into their beer as Awa headed home with the leg of mutton over his shoulder.
He could hear the parrot joining in. “Hehe haha haa!” Awa was glad to be back.