Toward the Sea of Freedom (71 page)

Handling animals suited Kahu more, and for a time he hired on to a sheep farm near Auckland and did well for himself, but in the end, he was not content to work for the
pakeha
. Above all, Kahu was interested in his people’s rights. He regretted that he had not gone farther with his formal education among the whites. It would have been best to study law, in order to strike back at the
pakeha
with their own weapons of word.

Kahu was a master of
whaikorero
, rhetoric. He could trumpet his outrage at the injustices his people encountered at the hands of the immigrants from the Old World. However, no echo came from the tribes. If Maori and
pakeha
fought, it was only over individual issues, and the
iwi
and
hapu
ended the fighting as soon as they reached a settlement. The natives thought it right that the whites should govern themselves in their cities according to their customs, so long as they could hold on to their customs in the countryside.

Kahu Heke, who took a longer view and had studied European history, foresaw a catastrophe. The whites always took friendliness for weakness; that would be no different in New Zealand than in their old homeland. They let the Maori be, as long as they did not need their land. The
pakeha
numbers were growing, however. Kahu saw the ships in their harbors and their cities spreading outward; one day they would lay their hands on that land too. Kahu would have been happy to arm his people against that, but no one listened to him.

His self-appointed task of being the intermediary between the
pakeha
and the tribes kept him in contact with the Ngai Tahu, and this was how he occasionally got news about Lizzie.

Kahu had heard of Lizzie’s tavern and Michael’s distillery in Kaikoura. Her adaptability charmed him: if she could not make wine, she made whiskey—or got her man to do so. The Maori, however, claimed there was nothing between Lizzie and the Irish sheep shearer and distiller. Kahu wondered if that were true—recently, he had caught word that they had appeared on the Tuapeka River. Kahu no longer pictured Lizzie so clearly. He had gotten used to not having her around, and other goals had emerged for him.

Although Kuti Haoka was still in good health, he was getting quite old. He would soon have to give up his title of chief, and this was Kahu’s last chance to win more influence among his people so that he might follow his uncle. Thus, Kahu returned to his tribe, hunted, fished, advised people, and told stories. He increased his
mana
, and his heart beat more heavily when the chieftain finally ordered him to come to him.

“My son,” said Kuti Haoka. He led his nephew onto a plateau overlooking the
marae
and stood tall there. Kahu kept his distance—the chieftain of the Ngati Pau was
tapu
, and not even his shadow could fall on one of his subjects. “I’ve known you since your birth, but I still do not know what I’m to think of you. You seem unable to decide whether you want to live with us or the
pakeha
, but the priests say this is your fate. You are meant to wander between the worlds. Now the time has come for you to settle down. I am old. I will soon return to Hawaiki. Someone must lead the tribe after me, and the line would point to you. So what of you? And what of the woman you chose? The gods welcome your choice. The priests have asked them many times. Your fate lies in darkness, but the union is blessed. So, where is she? When will you bring her here? When will you take my office?”

Kahu Heke had expected something like this and hoped for it too—it was only these questions about the woman he was supposed to have chosen that irritated him.

“
Ariki
, which woman?” he asked.

The chieftain arched his brows. “The
pakeha wahine
, who else? You’ve given her plenty of time to herself. Soon she will no longer be able to bear children.”

“
Ariki
, I have not seen her in years. She does not think of me and does not want me. When I become chieftain, I’ll take one of the girls from the tribe.”

Kuti Haoka shook his head—ever dignified with his long hair bound into warrior knots. “That is not what the spirits intend. You should have taken my daughter, but the gods gave me no daughter. The
pakeha wahine
is meant for you. See that you find her if you want my office. If not, there will be someone else for chief.
Kia tu tika ai te whare tapu o Ngati Pau
.”

May the sacred house of the Ngati Pau last forever.
Once the chief finished his speech with the traditional words, he turned and walked away—very slowly, carefully, ever alert. His shadow could not fall on any field; no branch of a tree could touch his air. An
ariki
led a lonely life.

Kahu thought it over. It was his duty to strive for the chieftain’s office. Not just to his tribe but to all his people. They would listen to the
ariki
of the Ngati Pau. In the Maori villages and the
pakeha
cities. Again, he had the idea of having himself elected
kingi
—perhaps he should court the daughter of the current
kingi
? But that was a matter for another day. The chief had given him clear instructions as to his first wife. The spirits of the Ngati Pau insisted on a union with Elizabeth. Now he only needed to convince her of this idea. As he went back to the village, he whistled to himself. It was rare that the will of the spirits and the will of a person coincided so nicely.

Kahu Heke did not take the chieftain’s canoe to sail around the North Island this time but had a tribe of the Ngati Pau ferry him across on the shortest route to the South Island. Before that, he wandered across the North Island, speaking to the representatives of the various tribes and assuring them of his friendly intentions—now, as a visitor, and later, as
ariki
of his tribe. The
powhiri
, the ceremony that on the South Island was more of a traditional game, could become bitterly serious here. The tribes on Te Ika-a-Maui had always warred with each other. Kahu was determined to unite them now against the
pakeha
. The Maori had to strengthen their position, for better or worse, in war or peace. Kahu knew that Kuti Haoka hoped for peace. He had dedicated his life to this peace, although he had to fight often enough. Surely the attempt to bring white blood into the chieftain’s line of the Ngati Pau aimed at such a peaceful solution. The eldest in the tribe were thinking more of future generations. Kuti Haoka’s mention of Lizzie getting older—she might now be turning thirty—and the necessity of producing children with her as soon as possible spoke for themselves.

After his crossing, stormy this time, Kahu traveled across the South Island, visiting the
pakeha
settlements and finding them smaller and more manageable than the cities on the North Island. Naturally, Christchurch and Dunedin were growing, but in comparison to Wellington and Auckland, they were still villages. And here, there were hardly any conflicts between Maori and
pakeha
. The Ngai Tahu mostly kept away from the cities, but they were pleased with the price their land had fetched. The farmers in the plains hired the Maori as shepherds and respected their
tapu
. The land was big enough. Why should they fight about the settling, lumbering, or grazing of this or that grove or mountain?

In turn, it seemed to Kahu that the Ngai Tahu adapted to the whites’ way of life. They wore their clothing, sent their children to missionary schools, and often converted—at least halfheartedly—to Christianity. Only a few of the younger generation still wore
moko
, and the strict customs of earlier times were slipping into oblivion. No one cared where the shadow of his chieftain fell. Kahu quickly saw that the Ngai Tahu were not at all likely to be talked into an uprising.

Finally, he reached the gold prospects in Otago, where he was horrified by the destruction of the land. He hardly stopped, instead continuing into the mountains. Somewhere in this region lived the tribe that had taken Lizzie in.

The Ngai Tahu village was hard to find, and although he was an experienced Maori warrior, he wandered for some time before finding it. Finally, Kahu met a Maori girl who led him willingly to her relatives. Haikina, a daughter of the
tohunga
, Hainga, had attended a missionary school in Dunedin and was on her way back to the village.

Kahu followed the tall, slender girl over paths along streams and the river. Haikina wore the clothing of the whites, but she tied her skirt up high so she could move more easily in the wilderness. Kahu soon realized that although she had learned from the whites, they had not taken her in. The two former missionary students laughed as they exchanged stories about their teachers and priests. Haikina had let herself be baptized, too, but viewed the question of the whites’ gods skeptically. Finally, Kahu asked her about Lizzie, but the girl had only heard in the prospector’s camp that a white woman was supposed to be digging for gold near her village. She did not know any more, since she had not been with her tribe in almost a year.

Haikina’s mother and friends greeted her enthusiastically. Even the chieftain deigned to speak a few words to her. As
tohunga
’s daughter, she possessed a high rank, and many important practical and spiritual duties would fall to her. Right away Hainga gave her a decisive role in the
powhiri
ceremony with which Kahu Heke was welcomed into the village. The girl did not agree with her role, and she made the point that she had not danced the
haka
in four years, but Hainga insisted. The visitor was a future chieftain; he had a right to princesses in his welcome party.

Kahu let the praying, singing, and dancing pass over him. He would have preferred to be led directly to Lizzie’s camp after arriving in the village. However, that would have been more than impolite, and on the North Island one could interpret it as a hostile act. So Kahu played along and reluctantly began with his greeting speech. Casually, he let his gaze move over the group of dancers and girls playing music—and froze. Between the Maori girls stood a
pakeha
, a petite woman, hardly taller than anyone. Kahu saw her long, dark-blonde hair, silky but easily tangled. Pale-blue eyes like the sky in spring or the sea on a cloudy day. His heart pounded. Lizzie, his Elizabeth, stood beside the girls applauding the dancers. Kahu could hardly wait for the end of the ceremony.

He was so stunned that he had to be sure he wasn’t imagining his Elizabeth. “Who is that?” he asked Mahuika, a student of Hainga’s. She had been permitted the honor of letting out the
karanga
, and now she handed the visitor the first bite of food.

The young priestess grinned. “Erihapeti,” she said. Elizabeth. The Ngai Tahu now seemed to have an equivalent for every
pakeha
name. “And you’re the reason the clouds hang over her. At least, that’s what Hainga says.”

“I know her,” Kahu admitted. “But what is she doing here?”

Until then, Kahu had not believed the spirits interfered all that often in the lives of men.

“She’s waiting,” Mahuika said. “She’s waiting for a man.”

Kahu seized his forehead. That couldn’t be. “Come now, how would she know that I was coming?”

Mahuika laughed. “She’s waiting for a
pakeha
,” she specified. “She is—how do you say? Engaged.” Mahuika used the English word. There was no equivalent in the Maori language.

Kahu pursed his lips. “I’ve come to retrieve her,” he said. “The
tohunga
of the Ngati Pau would like to see her at my side.”

The young
tohunga
student arched her eyebrows. “Oh? Yet she sees herself elsewhere. Where her man sees her, no one knows. Hainga said it, the clouds. Her fate is unclear. There’s no reason not to try your luck.”

Kahu hardly dared to hope he could spend time with Lizzie that first evening. An honored visitor, especially one with rank as high as the future chieftain of the Ngati Pau, rarely came in contact with the regular members of a tribe. But to his amazement, Lizzie was also called to the circle of
tohunga
and elders. He saw from her face how embarrassing it was for her to be included. Why was it so unpleasant for her? How did she suddenly hold such a high rank? Whatever the reason, it was good that the tribe esteemed her so highly. That simplified Kahu’s plans.

Kahu Heke sat next to her by the fire and handed her some food. “Elizabeth, you’re just as beautiful as back when I brought you to Te Waka-a-Maui.” He spoke to her in his language. “And you’ve become what I always hoped. Even if you didn’t want to.”

Lizzie shrugged. She was nervous sitting next to him. The other girls were already looking at her questioningly. Kahu should be trying for Haikina or one of the chieftain’s daughters, not her.

“Hainga sees the work of the spirits here,” she informed him.

Kahu laughed. “And the
pakeha
say: Man proposes and God disposes.”