5

THE REFUGE

The cries of migratory kūaka circling and landing on the estuary roused the girls from sleep. The predawn sky was stippled with the swirling black mass of exhausted travellers. The low intoning of karakia rose up through the bird call. It was Te Tumu. Startled, Te Kawenga plastered herself against the back wall of the cave. Kakati signalled sternly to her to follow in silence. They quickly dressed, crawled to the cave entrance and vanished into the half-light.

Peeking through the sweet-scented grass, the girls recognised the towering figure of the tohunga. He was wrapped in his dog-skin cloak, and his topknot was fastened with an ornately carved titireia comb. Te Tumu knelt down at the water’s edge, plucked a hair from his head and threw it into the water. Then he released a miniature pātaka, a storehouse fashioned from flax, enveloping the flesh of a mullet. Balanced on a raupō raft, it floated out on the tranquil waters to the rhythm of his incantations. A series of strong ripples suddenly buffeted the bobbing structure, and it sank beneath the surface.

Te Tumu rose, his voice resounding as the sun’s first rays shimmered across the waves from the eastern horizon. ‘With the acceptance of this gift, great Haumia, your wishes will be fulfilled. Bring to us the pride of Tīkapa. Lure the mighty Ureia with the promise of scented taramea and kāretu. Offer up the most succulent tamariki from the food bowl of Tangaroa. When you return on Ōtāne, the trap will be set at Pūponga. I will stand astride the summit of Rakatāura and chant the karakia to entice Ureia through the harbour mouth. Make sure you arrive on the incoming tide. Stay in the channel and direct him to your left. My incantations will propel him to his death.’

A whirlpool churned up the shallow waters, shooting spray into the air. The cousins, arms locked tightly together, exchanged worried looks. Seconds later, they ducked down, panic stricken. Te Tumu had turned away from the boiling sea and was sniffing the air and advancing towards them.

‘Hold up the kati taramea,’ Te Kawenga spluttered.

‘No time. We have to run,’ Kakati insisted.

‘Who goes there? Ko wai te taurekareka e huna pokanoa rā? Show yourself. Tāwhirimātea, blow this scoundrel towards me.’

A violent gust of wind battered the girls as they scrambled through the grasses. The voice of the tohunga was closing in on them. Then, the sharp quee quee of a ruru rang out. Glancing over their shoulders, they could just make out Te Tumu frantically batting away the owl’s talons, outstretched to shred his face.

Once back on the path, Kakati instructed her cousin to grab a bundle of firewood from a shelter. ‘Load it on your back and keep your head down. Follow me back to the waka.’

The squalls brought the island to life, and it wouldn’t be long before Te Tumu ordered his men to search for them. Just as they reached the pā harakeke, the boom of the wooden gong echoed from the summit.

‘This is bad news. Dump the wood. Tie your sandals around your knees and crawl behind me,’ Kakati ordered.

Like a couple of skinks evading the watchful falcon, they slithered through the flax and onto the shells. They dashed to the waka and dragged it deep into the mangroves, then climbed aboard. It tipped dangerously from side to side as the wind raged, but at least they were nestled from view.

‘The sentries will spot us out at sea from the lookouts. We’ll have to stay hidden until dark.’

‘Good thing I’ve still got some tuatua in my pīkau.’

‘For crying out loud! All you ever think about is food. Don’t you realise what’s about to happen?’

‘Of course!’ Te Kawenga protested. ‘As you predicted, the men are building a trap at Pūponga.’

‘Yes, and now we know why. If Te Tumu succeeds, he will get us all killed. Hauraki will come to avenge the death of their beloved Ureia.’

‘So, we need to warn Matua.’

‘Exactly. But you know Ureia is a tupua, a powerful creature. Te Tumu may well fail in his attempt to catch him,’ Kakati suggested.

‘Such a ray of sunshine!’

‘Hey, stay positive. If we rest up today, we can paddle to Pūponga through the night, following the coast.’

‘As long as Haumia doesn’t drown us first.’

‘The ruru will protect us.’

‘How can you be so sure! Nothing is safe from that vengeful taniwha.’

All morning, the sound of men’s voices rang out along the shore. Lying in the hull of the waka, the girls whispered karakia to Hinemoana, calling on the atua of the sea to cradle them from harm. As the tide receded, the searchers were mercifully reluctant to venture into the girls’ muddy refuge.