TWELVE

 

Paruru took Nika to visit Piho Clan, with hope that the sailor might find life agreeable on another islet. His sister Heka welcomed them both eagerly, arranged a feast, invited all the prominent people of the clan. 

While fires were heating the oven stones, Paruru and Nika sat with the warrior's uncles and brothers in the shade above the beach. Nika had recently told a fine tale of a sea battle. Paruru urged him to repeat it in this distinguished company. He wished everyone to hear how well the outsider spoke. 

"It is better," said the sailor, "if I make little boats." He took a brown bit of palm leaf and folded it into the crude shape of a boat, then pressed it into the sand. He enlisted the aid of the other men in making more, some from dried leaves and some from fresh. 

"These brown ones are of our enemy," Nika said, placing the "boats" in formation. "They are heavy and slow. The green ones are of my land. Light and quick." He spoke of the weapons aboard, which flung stones a great distance. He explained how the vessels had to maneuver to point the huge weapons at their targets. 

Paruru watched the looks of amazement on his kinsmen's faces as Nika revealed the foreign methods of battle. Finally Nika reached the part where burning ships were sent at night to set fire to the enemy fleet. To demonstrate, the sailor made a crude palm leaf torch, igniting it at a nearby cook fire. With the torch, he set alight one brown vessel after another. 

"Aue!'' cried Crabs-sleeping.' "That is a quick way to get rid of them." 

"But those craft ride high out of the water," argued an uncle. "With so many masts and so much rigging, they catch fire too easily." He turned to Nika. "It is good that your enemy did not use our kind of war canoe!" 

Nika laughed and said this might be so. The men kept raising new points over the tactics he had described, sometimes arguing heatedly among themselves. By the time servers brought the meal, Paruru was satisfied that his sailor had made a strong impression. 

The next day, the kaito-nui found Heka with a group of women, seated on mats in a grove of coconut palms. When he asked to speak with her in private, she sent the women away. "Everyone is glad to see you again," she said pleasantly, brushing back long hair that glistened beneath a braided headdress of vines and lavender morning glory. "And I hear that Nika has found many friends." 

"I am happy to be your guest, sister. And so is Nika. He is with Crabs-sleeping now, searching for the black-lipped oysters."

"I heard that he is fond of pearl shells," she replied thoughtfully. "And we have the best. Is that what you wish to talk about?" 

Paruru did not answer directly, but began praising Nika's skills. "He is talented at working wood. The foreign tool does wonders in his hands. I would like to see him learn to build canoes." 

Heka looked skeptical. "I thought that Tepua gave all the tools to Faka-ora for safekeeping."

"Yes. But a knife and chopper came ashore separately from the rest. Tepua put these in my charge."

"I did not know that, brother. You must be careful. Remember how Cone-shell cut himself."

"Nika knows how to use these tools. You should see how fast he can work with them."

"Perhaps Nika can cut faster than our men," she answered, "but skill is not enough. He must speak the proper chants at every stage or the work will fail." 

"He will learn the chants."

"Perhaps he will." She paused, then spoke in a chiding tone. "Paruru, is this all you came to talk about? Should I call the master canoe-builder and offer him a new pupil?" 

"There is more, sister." He realized that he must reach his point quickly as she was already losing her good humor. "I have thought long about Nika. Listen carefully before you answer. He has no real home on this atoll and I wish to give him one. I wish to have him adopted into Piho Clan—as my brother." 

"Aue!" 

"Do you find it so strange?"

"I know that you and he are good friends. But think what you ask!"

"I have good reasons, sister."

"Yes, I can see one. Half the treasures from the foreign vaka are his. Eventually Tepua must release those things. If Nika is part of our family, then the treasures will be ours as well." 

Paruru felt his anger rising. He cared nothing for cloth and colored beads. The one foreign thing he wanted he already had, and Nika was the one who would teach him how to use it. "There is a more important reason," he insisted. "People are starting to question Tepua's wisdom in keeping these outsiders with us. And the sailors are growing restless. If Nika causes trouble, there will be more talk against her." 

"So you think you can help Tepua by bringing Nika to us?"

"I cannot have him near me and watch him constantly. My duties for the high chief keep me too busy. But if Nika stays here, he can become part of our family. He will learn the proper ways to do everything. My brothers and nephews will teach him." 

"I have heard them talking about your sailor."

"He has made himself welcome."

Heka looked at Paruru sharply. "Many of our men will support you. They will say that the sailor can bring renown to our family. But we must not forget the risk—that the outsider can also bring disgrace." 

"Have I asked too much?"

Heka paused. "If this were for your sake alone, I would not take the chance. But I, too, wish to support Tepua. It will help her if this man joins our family and makes himself useful." 

"Then you agree!"

Heka folded her hands. "I will speak to the elders in favor of your proposal. I may have to remind them about that strong foreign cloth!" 

"Then I will wait for your answer." He stared at his sister a moment, wondering which of his arguments had been most persuasive. Surely she had not guessed the fate of the thunder-club. She could not know that the weapon meant as much to him as regaining Tepua's esteem. 

 

Nika stayed on for several days, enjoying feasts, entertainment, and fishing expeditions. He amassed a collection of fine shells and a few small pearls. 

Also, Nika had a chance to look over the young women of Piho Clan. At Paruru's urging they visited the sailor, encouraging his interest with shy, yet flirtatious glances. Following Paruru's instructions, however, they did not linger. 

It was on the third morning of his guest's stay that Paruru decided to bring up the question of adoption. By now the elders had consented to Heka's request. Only Nika's agreement was needed. 

Paruru found the foreigner sitting in the shade with his pile of treasures, tossing away those shells that had even tiny defects. Good pearl shells were prized here, of course, but they did not consume anyone's interest. And pearls, so difficult to pierce, were rarely used in adornment. 

Nika had astonished him by saying that these things could make him wealthy when he returned home. Indeed, it seemed that the wealth of distant Piritania was not measured in mats and coconut trees, or even in pigs and cloth. Nika prized riches of another sort, of which he could only display a small handful—disks of bright foreign stone, carved with strange designs. 

Seeing him absorbed in his work, the warrior approached and squatted on his heels. "I am glad," Paruru said, "that you find so much to please you here." 

Nika smiled and looked up from his shells. "This is a good island. Better than the other."

"Would you like to stay?" asked Paruru.

Nika's eyes searched Paruru's. "What are you offering?"

"I want to help you find a place for yourself—as part of a family. Then you can remain here as long as you like."

"Right here?" He gestured toward the house where he was staying.

Paruru raised his eyebrows in assent. "And my family is among the best. We hold good lands and fishing sites and many coconut trees. We have excellent nets and swift canoes. All of these will be yours to share." 

The sailor grinned. "I think I understand."

"I am offering you a high honor," Paruru said. "I have watched you, and I believe that you are worthy. I would like you for my brother." 

A wary look crossed the sailor's face. "Tell me how it is done—the joining of brothers."

"By a short ceremony. You will see."

"And after that, the girls ..."

"Will no longer treat you as a stranger."

"That is what I am waiting for. Too many girls are running off. I think they are a little bit afraid."

"It will be different when you are my brother. But remember this. My cousin is your cousin, and cousins are tapu." 

Nika grimaced. "Rules and more rules. How many cousins do you have?" When Paruru gave no reply, Nika did not press him. Instead, the sailor asked, "Will you send a message to Maukiri? Tell her I am not coming back soon." 

"I will," Paruru answered. "Now come, and meet a few more of your new family."

 

On the day of the adoption ceremony, the weather was clear with a mild breeze. Wearing feathers and ferns in his hair, Paruru went to the marae to join his elderly father, his sister Heka, and other relatives. Since Nika had no kin here, he walked apart, accompanied only by a woman called Karipea who had been borrowed from Varoa Clan for the occasion. She was to serve the role of Nika's "mother" and was already devoting herself enthusiastically to the part, much to Nika's evident distress. Paruru wondered if Heka had indulged her capricious sense of humor by selecting Karipea. 

He could see that the sailor's discomfort was worsened by the plaited cape and loincloth that he wore. Nika had complained the night before that mat garments itched, but Paruru had insisted that he give up his foreign clothing for the ceremony. Now the sailor was constantly scratching, undeterred by scolding and slaps from Karipea. 

Outside the low coral-block walls of the maraz, a priest met the party. Several men brought an enormous rolled mat of plaited fara, spreading it on the ground while the priest handed out leaves of pukatea. Paruru took his seat at the mat's center. Prompted by Karipea, Nika joined him, sitting in the proper place on his left. 

"Stop scratching," Paruru hissed.

"If you let me wear my shirt ..." Nika began, but Paruru silenced him with a sharp motion of the hand. The ceremony had begun. It must not be profaned by idle talk or argument. 

Paruru watched as his relatives, led by Heka, gathered at one end of the mat. On the other end sat Karipea, as Nika's representative. It bothered Paruru to see the two sides so unbalanced, but there was no way to produce Nika's true family. 

Shark-tooth flails appeared in the hands of Paruru's kin. Heka was the first to strike her forehead with the shark's tooth, causing blood to trickle onto her face. Others followed her example, with impassioned prayers and outcries to the gods that the heritage of two families would be well mingled. 

Across the mat, Karipea replied in kind. Perhaps, thought Paruru, Nika's family was fairly represented after all, for the loudness of Karipea's outbursts and the amount of blood she shed make up for the lack in numbers. 

Nika seemed to pale at the sight of crimson running down so many foreheads. What was wrong with the man? Paruru wondered. Had he never seen an adoption or a marriage before? 

Paruru's elderly father stepped forward, carrying the juice of a young coconut leaf in a shell. He poured the libation onto a leaf of sacred pukatea, set the leaf briefly on Paruru's head and then on Nika's. 

Now that the leaf's contents were imbued with the spirits of both men, it was brought before the other celebrants. The priest chanted prayers while the token was sealed by drips of red. At last the leaf was carried by the priest into the marae, to rest on a sacred stone. 

Heka took her place beside the priest and chanted, "This man we take as a brother. I give to him the name that Paruru bore as a youth. His name is now Kero, and he shall be known as a member of this family and of Piho Clan." She paused. "And in turn he gives a name to Paruru. The name is Tama, one that is old and honored among his people." With a wave of her arms, she bade both men to stand. 

"Paruru-tama, here is your brother, Nika-kero. Nika-kero, here is your brother, Paruru-tama. Each one shall chant the genealogy of his family so that it may be known to the other." 

Paruru was first. The names flowed easily from his tongue, for he had learned them as a child and repeated them to himself every night before sleeping. This was essential knowledge, the sole means to prove one's claim to land or fishing rights. 

"Here is my descent,'' he began."The god Atea fathered the god Tu-makino who fathered the great god Tangaroa. Tangaroa fathered Tapai'aha ..." Paruru continued, watching his audience as they listened attentively. He glanced at Nika, whose uncomprehending stare reminded him that his venerated forebears were but a jumble of names to this man. 

That would soon change. As a member of the family, Nika would be expected to become as fluent in genealogical recitation as anyone in the clan. 

The warrior finished his narration, "... who fathered a son, Paruru." He turned toward Nika, noting how unsettled the foreigner appeared as he prepared to take his turn. On the previous evening, Nika had been inconsistent in his repetitions, Paruru had been forced to drill him so that he would not embarrass himself by making a mistake in public. 

With a nervous glance at the priest, the sailor began. "The first man of my tribe was Atama and he took Eva to wife. Their firstborn was...uh...Kaina, and he had Noha ..." 

Paruru listened critically. He wondered if anyone would notice that Noha, whoever he was, had not been mentioned in the earlier versions. It worried him that Nika's memory was so poor. Paruru did not wish to consider the possibility that all these names had been fabricated. 

Suddenly the recitation was over, and Heka was speaking. "Nika-kero, enter your place of judgment and take your stand among us," she said. 

Cautiously Nika stepped forward. Heka embraced the sailor and pressed her face to his. Paruru, remembering the strength of his sister's arms, hoped that Nika would not gasp aloud under the onslaught. But he proved himself a man in that respect, stifling any outcry and only staggering a little as Heka released him. Then, one by one, the rest of the family greeted their new kinsman. 

It is done, thought Paruru. May it please the gods.

 

The next few days passed quietly, and Paruru decided that he could soon return to Tepua's service. On a sunlit morning he went looking for his new brother to tell him his plans. Crabs-sleeping had said that Nika was hunting octopus just offshore. 

The tide was out and the lagoon had drawn down, exposing dark patches of reef. Women were busy gathering clams in the shallows. Paruru saw no sign of Nika as he walked along the beach. 

He shaded his eyes, gazing over the water. Nika had been warned of the local dangers—the stonefish, the shifting currents, the sharp-edged coral—but perhaps he had been careless. Paruru felt uneasy as he began a long circuit of the islet, facing a stiff breeze as he turned toward the seaward side. 

The shore had no covering of sand here, only heaps of smoothed coral chunks that clinked against each other as he crossed them. Suddenly he heard a cry and the splashing of feet in shallow water. He saw Nika pelting toward him, his arms flung wide. The sailor shouted something, but his words were lost in the wind. The kaito-nui was alarmed until he saw a grin of delight on Nika's ruddy face. 

"I caught one!" Nika yelled. The sailor slid to a stop in front of Paruru, breathless, red hair tangled by wind and spray. He was wearing his own garment again. The rags of his shirt bore a dark stain. Paruru was close enough to smell the blood of a sea creature, a scent disturbingly familiar. 

"What is it?"

Nika did not seem to know the word in Paruru's tongue. He used his own language and made signs. "A big one!" he said proudly. "I speared him."

Paruru felt a chill as he stared at Nika, for he thought it possible that the man had caught a sea turtle. "Honu?" he asked Nika, dreading the answer. When the sailor did not respond, the warrior realized that he had never taught Nika that word. Having no turtle at hand, Paruru had carelessly neglected to tell him about the animal—or the tapu surrounding it. 

"Show me," the warrior demanded. Nika sprinted off and he followed, trying to make himself believe that Nika had caught a ray or some other bottom-dwelling flatfish. Nika led him to a stretch of sand, and Paruru was relieved to find the area deserted. At least he would be the first to see what his new brother had done. 

Strutting like a cock fowl, Nika led Paruru toward the scrubby trees above the beach. A moment later the warrior knew that Nika had done his worst. He glanced with horror at the gray-green shell, the pointed tail.... 

Paruru wanted to squeeze his eyes shut, hoping that the gods would relent and take the scene away. But he could not hide from the smell, the terrible, dank smell from the sea's depths. 

Sennit cord was wrapped about the turtle's two rear legs, tethering the creature to a coconut stump. It lay, churning sand with its winglike front flippers, straining its neck back, opening and shutting its powerful beak. A fish spear was jammed deep into a gap in the shell, piercing the soft wrinkled flesh between the turtle's neck and the left foreleg. Blood welled up around the spear shaft every time the turtle heaved at its bindings. 

Paruru felt engulfed by a feeling of despair. How had he neglected to explain the importance of the turtle?

"You are speechless." The sailor's voice startled him. "What a big one!"

It was all Paruru could do to keep from seizing the fish spear, jerking it from the turtle, and burying it deep into human flesh. If this man had not been made his brother...

Paruru watched the turtle trying to escape, snapping at the cords that tethered it. Nika picked up a shell-bladed knife and bent to cut the beast's throat. For a moment Paruru could only gaze numbly at the sight of the blade moving closer. Then he reacted, shooting out his hand to catch Nika's arm. 

"No!" Paruru shouted. While the turtle still lived he might find a way to salvage the situation. If the foreigner slaughtered the animal, all would be lost. 

"What is the matter?" Nika's voice sounded petulant as he dropped the knife."Why is this not pleasing? Here is my gift to you and the rest of the family." 

Paruru listened sadly as he began to grasp Nika's reasoning. The foreigner was not truly to blame. He had wanted to prove that he was worthy of adoption, a man who could provide meat for his new family. Now Paruru looked at Nika's expression and saw feelings of puzzlement, anger, and pride. The warrior found himself groping for words. 

"You were adopted as a younger brother,'' he said at last, "so I will speak as your elder. This act is tapu." 

Nika shook his head as if unwilling to hear.

"It is forbidden," Paruru continued, biting off each word. "The turtle is sacred food. There must be ceremonies before the hunt and after, or the gods will be offended. Only important men, such as chief's and priests, may eat the flesh." 

Nika's face reddened and the veins in his temples were swelling. "There is no meat for me all the time I am here," he answered angrily. "All I get is fish and coconuts." He gestured impatiently with the knife. "You are an important man, so you can eat it. Now I am your brother, so why cannot I eat it, too?" 

Paruru wanted to laugh at Nika's ignorance. Only after sacred rituals was a man allowed to share the feast. For Nika's act there could be no reward, only punishment. 

The warrior tried to explain again, telling how turtles were descended from the god Tu-who-dwells-in-the-sea. The god would be angered by Nika's affront No one could say what the result might be—famine, storms, sickness. 

"And do not forget the ghosts of our ancestors," Paruru continued. "They, too, will avenge this insult. They will come for you at night, with their long sharp fingernails and teeth." Paruru saw Nika pale beneath the red bronze of his face. His hands began to clench and unclench nervously. 

"All just for honu?' 

"If I had not adopted you into my family," Paruru said, "the punishment would fall on you alone. Now it may fall on me as well, and on all of Piho Clan." 

At last the sailor put his knife aside and slumped down onto the sand. "It is nearly dead now. Why keep talking about it?" he asked angrily. 

"Because I am still looking for a way to save us!" Paruru crouched beside the wounded turtle. If its injuries were not severe, then perhaps it could be released into the sea and the incident forgotten. But the turtle's smell, damp with seawa-ter and heavy with approaching death, ended that hope. From the length of shaft remaining, Paruru knew that the spear had gone deep. Removing it would only hasten the animal's end. 

If he cut off the protruding shaft, turned the turtle loose, and it died at sea, no one else would know. But the gods would see, and their wrath would be swift. The entire atoll might suffer for the crime. 

Paruru watched the movement of the flippers growing weaker. The turtle was dying....

He had one hope. He could take the creature to a chief while it still lived. If the chief accepted it, then the required rituals would be followed and the gods might relent, despite the improper hunt. 

But which chief? Tepua was too far away, even if he were willing to tell her what had happened. And Heka? He had urged her to accept the outsider in hope of keeping him out of trouble. Now she would see how her brother had failed. 

No, it would have to be someone else, someone unlikely to question too deeply. Then he thought of Cone-shell, whose own clan's islet lay just across the channel. After his recent troubles Cone-shell might welcome such an offering. A turtle feast on his marae could help him regain prestige among his wavering followers. 

Paruru wondered how to explain such a gift from Tepua's kaito-nui, after Cone-shell had treated her so harshly. Suddenly he saw how to explain it. But everything depended on his delivering the turtle alive. Quickly he told Nika the first part of his plan. "You must help me bring the creature across the channel." 

Nika stared at him, his hostile mood returning. "You say I cannot keep my turtle. Now you want help to give it away."

"It is not yours. It is stolen from the gods," Paruru reminded him. "What do you think will happen if Tepua learns about this? She will put you back in your vaka and set you adrift." He pinched the flesh of Nika's thigh. "The Pu-tahi will catch you and have a good meal." 

Sweat beaded on the sailor's upper lip and forehead. He glanced once more at the dying turtle. "Then do it. Get rid of this thing." 

 

Shortly Paruru brought a small vaka around the point and anchored it in shallow water. He carried a roll of strong cordage ashore and looped it around the turtle's shell. Then Nika cut the bonds on the creature's legs. Despite its wounds and weakness, the turtle began to thrash its way toward the water, the new cord trailing behind. 

Once afloat, the heavy creature was far easier to handle than on land. Paruru tied his end of the cord to the stem of the canoe. With Nika's help paddling they headed into the lagoon, towing the struggling animal across the current. 

By now the sun was high, beating down fiercely on Parana's face and hair. He had lost his plaited sunshade and had no choice but to endure his discomfort. The distance was short, yet the journey seemed endless. Each time the turtle's head stopped waving or its flippers sagged, he feared that death had stolen his chance to make amends. He prayed to his guardian spirit, and somehow the beast always began moving again. 

At last he saw Cone-shell's beach, with tall palms and a cluster of thatched houses above the shore. The men paddled in; Paruru felt the vaka ground on sand. Cone-shell's attendants came to greet him and ask the purpose of his visit. When they saw what he was towing, some ran to tell their chief, others to get help in dragging the prize onto the beach. 

"You must be silent while I speak to him," Paruru told Nika in a low voice. "He must believe that I was the one who captured the turtle. Otherwise he will guess that it was not done properly." Grudgingly the sailor agreed. 

Soon Varoa's chief appeared, wearing a simple hip wrap and his tall headdress. "What is this?" Cone-shell asked, his expression a mixture of puzzlement and delight. "Why does the eminent Paruru bring me such a gift? Surely Tepua is not behind this." 

Paruru had already planned his response. "Let this be a token from Tepua-ariki. To show that she is not angry with you for testing her. Let this turtle help keep peace between the clans." 

"That is a...generous offer on her part." Cone-shell fell silent, as if trying to explain this surprising development to himself. "She will expect something in return," he said in a hard voice. 

"A token of your friendship will be enough," answered the warrior.

Cone-shell grunted. "Several large albacore, perhaps?"

Paruru knew what he was thinking. Even such prized fish as albacore would not make an adequate return gift. "Perhaps something more," said the kaito-nui. 

When Cone-shell scowled, Paruru hastily made a suggestion. "I heard that you have some high-island trees growing here."

"Carefully tended!"

"Tepua longs for the food of Tahiti. If you send her a few breadfruit—"

"It will be done," replied Cone-shell, seemingly relieved that this would suffice. He drew himself up. "You may convey to Tepua that I am pleased to accept her gift," he declared loudly. Then his keen gaze turned to Nika, "But what of this outsider with hair like fire? Tell me his role in this." 

"He is now my brother," Paruru said casually.

"Brother!" Cone-shell contemplated the news and his eyes narrowed again. "Yes, that was a clever move for you." He scowled and fingered the necklace of dolphin teeth about his throat. Paruru could guess that he was thinking about the sailors' goods, aware that now half might be claimed by Piho Clan. 

"Tepua approves of this?" Cone-shell asked angrily. When Paruru raised his eyebrows in assent, he ground his heel into the sand, then turned to where the turtle lay. "Then perhaps that explains this gift. She hopes to keep me from voicing my discontent." 

Paruru did not know how to answer him, and was afraid of wasting any more time. The turtle was nearly dead."You must begin the ceremonies—'' 

"Yes," said Cone-shell. "I have accepted the gift and now everything must be done quickly. But do not think I will forget this other matter. I should have been told about Nika." He clapped his hands, summoning servants. Some went to inform the priests. Others brought refreshments for the guests. "Paruru, it is your right as hunter to join us at the feast," said Cone-shell. "And since this man Nika is your brother ..."He paused, biting the words off in distaste. "I invite him to come as well." 

Nika leaned forward eagerly, but Paruru jerked him back. He answered, "Your offer is well-spoken, chief, but in this case I give up my rights to the meat. Let my share go to men of your clan." 

Cone-shell stated in astonishment at this refusal. It was now, Paruru knew, that his whole plan might run aground. "It is because of a dream," the warrior improvised. "I saw myself bringing a turtle to a great chief, but I did not eat of the flesh. The dream puzzles me, but I mink I must follow it." 

"That is a strange dream," Cone-shell replied with a frown. Paruru could see, however, that he had not missed the flattering phrase. "Rare is the hunter who gives up his portion," Cone-shell added, "but I will not press you to go against your dream. You may stay here. My servants will look after your needs. I leave now to prepare myself for the rituals." As Cone-shell strode out of sight Paruru mouthed silent praises to his guardian spirit. 

When the chief was gone, Nika began to complain again. "I am not entitled to a share," Paruru hissed. "And neither are you. Be glad that Cone-shell accepted my story." 

Nika fell silent. The servants brought a meal of fish, coconut, and taro, but he ate little. He toyed with the placemats of plaited leaves. "What are all these ceremonies that you keep talking about?" the sailor asked at last. 

"If you wish," Paruru answered when he was done with his meal, "we can sit outside the marae and listen. Maybe you will learn something that way. Maybe you will understand how careful we must be with the turtle." 

When he heard the sound of chanting, Paruru followed the path to the sacred place by the shore. The two men sat nearby, their backs against coconut trees. The priests' chants made the warrior think of days long before, when he had sung and danced in the rituals for catching turtles. Now the remembered words filled his thoughts. 

 

Come! Come to the shore, great turtle.

Rise up to the white waves of the sea

Ride the waves to the shore.

May you come here, come straight here

To where your navel cord is buried

To where your marae stone is set up.... 

 

Beside him, Nika shifted restlessly. "I wish to see what they are doing."

"We must stay here, but I will tell you," Paruru said. "I have watched many times." He explained each step, the invocations, the offerings, the preparation for the first oven. 

"The first? How many times is the turtle cooked?"

"Twice. First to melt the turtle's fat and make the flesh easier to divide. The portions are then baked in a second oven, dug nearby." 

Nika grinned. "I know why you cook it twice. Because your knives are not sharp enough to cut it up. You should try one of my knives." 

Stolidly, Paruru answered, "We cook it twice because that is the way the ceremony is done."

"I do not like your answer," Nika replied. And soon he was complaining again as the aromas of the first cooking wafted to him from the marae. Paruru heard the sailor's belly growl and saw how his mouth watered at the smell. 

"The men of Varoa will eat heartily," Paruru said.

Nika buried his head in his arms and groaned. "Enough of ceremonies. Let us go home."

"No. I want you to listen to the rest of the ceremony."

"I am suffering!"

"Then let it be your punishment." Paruru sat back against the coconut tree and wondered if he was safe now. Cone-shell's priests had accepted the offering without question. Perhaps there would be no reprisal from the gods if the wrongdoers got no benefit from their acts. 

But what other mistakes might this outsider commit? Paruru remained quiet for a long time as he contemplated what had happened. The smell of roasting meat filled his nostrils. Nika's soft moans sounded in his ears, but the suffering brought Paruru no pleasure. 

His thoughts returned to that bright afternoon when the foreign vessel had appeared on the sea. Now he wondered gloomily if he had made the wrong decision. Perhaps he should have kept his men back and let the sailors crash into the reef.