Call of the Kiwi (54 page)

Rihari, Marama’s middle son, was a good rider and tracker and had a mutt that had proved its worth on the hunt. “We’re going to head further into the mountains for lost sheep. Kuri and Nimue should be able to sniff them out. Paora and Hori—you have your own dogs. Anaru, Willings, Carter, and Beales, each of you take one of the young dogs.”

Jack nodded to Gloria appreciatively when she entered the tent with a cup of tea. “I would have given the same orders, Glory,” he said softly. “But I wouldn’t have sent you alone into the mountains. Are you sure?” He warmed his hands on the hot clay cup.

“I’m not good for anything down below. Neither Rihari nor I know the valleys where the flocks usually are, but if we ride up into the passes, we could save dozens of animals.”

“Be careful,” Jack said, stroking her hand with his fingers.

Gloria smiled. “And you be good and listen to Wiremu, all right? He won’t admit it, but Rongo thinks he’ll be a
tohunga
. He’s just bitter because it didn’t work out at the
pakeha
university. He plays the hunter and trap layer instead of doing what he can and wants to do.”

“It doesn’t sound like you hate him,” Jack said, both teasing and serious.

“If I were to hate all the cowards in the worl
d . . .
” Then she left.

Jack lay there, feeling pride and fear for Gloria by turn. The mountain passes were not without their dangers, especially during sudden winter storms. But then Wiremu came over, and Jack hardly found time to think. The young man lit a fire in front of the tent, heated some stones in it, and then laid them around Jack in order to warm him. A short while later he was bathed in sweat. Wiremu applied herbal poultices to his chest and had him inhale their hot vapors.

“A lot of lung tissue was destroyed when your lung was wounded,” he said after a brief inspection of the scar. “It’s a wonder you survived. The organ can’t take in as much oxygen as normal, which is why you tire quickly and don’t have much energy.”

“What does that mean?” Jack wheezed. “That I should stay at home like a girl?”

Wiremu grinned. “The Warden girls do not tend to stay at home,” he observed. “And it’s no good for you either. Normal farmwork won’t be a problem. But you should avoid heavy physical exertion in weather like yesterday. And you need to eat more. You’re too thin.”

Wiremu poured him some tea and more of Gloria’s
kohekohe
syrup.

“No one who sees the hocus-pocus surrounding its harvesting believes it, but it’s very effective. Rongo does three dances before she harvests the leaves.” Wiremu sounded contemptuous.

“She shows the plants how much they mean,” Jack remarked. “What’s wrong with that? A lot of
pakeha
say a prayer before they break bread. You must have had to do that in boarding school.”

Wiremu grinned again. “
Pakeha
hocus-pocus.”

“Wiremu, what did Gloria say?” Jack asked abruptly. “Back then in the
marae
. To Tonga. I saw from a distance that she spoke in anger, but I couldn’t hear what it was.”

Wiremu blushed. “It was her
pepeha
, her introduction of herself to the tribe. Do you know how that goes?”

“Only vaguely. Something like ‘Hi, I’m Jack. My mother came to Aotearoa on the
Dublin
.
’ ”

“Normally you name the canoe on which the ancestors of your father came first,” Wiremu corrected him. “But that’s not so important. More important is the meaning. With the
pepeha
we remind ourselves of our past because it determines our future.
I nga wa o mua
, you understand?”

Jack sighed. “The words themselves. To understand the concept, you would have had to come to Aotearoa on the first canoe. So what was so awful about the ships on which the Wardens and Martyns traveled here?”

Wiremu repeated Gloria’s speech to him.

11

G
loria rode through the mist, hoping either that it would burn off or that the steep path into the mountains would eventually lead her above it. She wondered how Rihari, who was riding ahead of her, could find the way with such confidence. The dogs had herded together a flock of almost fifty sheep, mostly rams that were reluctant to let themselves be herded into the group by Nimue. They had all been going it alone or in small groups. Outcasts and rebels, Gloria thought, and had to laugh.

When they finally emerged from the fog bank, an expansive panorama revealed itself. The snow-covered mountain peaks seemed to float above the clouds, and the horses strode over barely visible fairy bridges between the valleys and chasms. Gloria could hardly get enough of the breathtaking landscape, but she also knew that they had a long descent ahead of them—with many detours in search of more sheep.

“Do you think we’ll find more sheep up here?” Gloria asked.

“No. I only rode up this far to check on the weather.” His voice sounded strangely hollow. “To check on that.” Gloria had been looking south toward Mt. Cook, but Rihari pointed west.

The cloud formation gathering there was likewise a natural spectacle. But instead of getting lost in its beauty, any halfway knowledgeable observer would have trembled at the sight.

“Oh, Rihari, what is that? The next storm? Or is the world coming to an end?” Gloria asked, gazing with horror at an opaque mass of black and gray clouds that flashed ominously with lightning. “Is it coming this way?”

Rihari nodded. “Can’t you tell?”

The front had already pressed closer while they talked.

Gloria took up the reins and squared herself. “We have to return to camp and warn the others. If that’s as bad as it looks, Rihari, it’ll rip our tents away.”

Gloria turned Ceredwen and whistled for the dogs. Rihari followed her. The horses were in a hurry to get back to camp and took up a fast pace. Gloria often had to rein in her mare. The danger of slipping and falling into a chasm was too great. Rihari tried to control the sheep but was forced to leave that to the dogs. The animals grew panicked as the storm front advanced. The wind blew the mist away—a bad sign—and then it began to rain.

“Gloria, we can’t stay here on the pass. If there’s a snowstorm like yesterday, it’ll blow the horses right off. We wouldn’t even be able to see our hands in front of our faces.”

“So where should we go instead?” The wind tore the words from Gloria’s mouth.

“There are caves in a valley very near here.”

“And why,” Gloria asked angrily, “aren’t we there? We could have used them as a camp.”

“They’re
tapu
,” Rihari yelled over the wind and lashing rain. “The spirits, but you know Pourewa. Weren’t you there with Rongo once?”

Gloria thought for a moment. Suddenly she saw a rock fortress in her mind. A valley surrounded by mountains. A volcano crater or glacier had created a sort of fort there thousands of years ago.

“The spirits will have to prepare for a visit,” Gloria declared. “Rihari, where is it?”

Rihari hesitated. He did not seem to want to desecrate the land, but the storm was fast approaching.

Gloria ignored Rihari’s indecisiveness. “Lead us there now, and we’ll fire off our rifles,” she said. “Perhaps the others will figure out to look for us there. We’ll light the flares.”

Determined, Gloria pulled Ceredwen ahead of the clearly reluctant Rihari and spurred her horse on energetically. As the rain gave way to snowfall, Gloria wrapped her scarf around her face, limiting her vision. She almost rode past the entrance to the crater, but Rihari stopped her.

“Wait,” he yelled. “I think it’s here.”

Gloria peered through the driving snow. It was almost as if the spirits were masking the entrance to their valley, which in summer was hard to miss. Despite his obvious scruples, Rihari steered his horse unerringly toward two rocks, which formed a sort of gateway—the gate to the Pourewa of the spirits.

Gloria did not hesitate. At her whistle the dogs piloted the sheep through the stone gate. When she entered, she was greeted with a sight that enthralled her, just as it had when she’d been here with Rongo. The rocks at the entrance gave way to a small valley formed by steep, soaring cliffs. A poet would have compared the spacious rooms to a cathedral or a knight’s hall. But Gloria just saw sufficient shelter for her sheep. People and animals alike would be protected from even the most savage storm here.

Sparse grassland spanned the space between the rocks around a small lake.

Gloria wrestled with herself. She had the perfect shelter—not only for the few dozen animals she had but for everyone, including Jack and his men.

Should she ride down and retrieve the others? That would be best, but she didn’t know whether she could manage it before that savage storm unleashed its full fury. Or should she fire off the flares and hope Jack saw them and understood her signal correctly? But what if he interpreted the flares as a call for help? Then he might only send a search team. The group would be separated, and everyone would end up more helpless against the storm. The men must have seen the storm front by now. If Jack had his wits about him, he would have them break camp.

“Do the others know about this place?” Gloria asked.

Rihari tried to nod and shake his head at the same time.

“Wiremu perhaps, but not the others. I only know this valley because I accompanied Rongo Rongo here once. If you herd the sheep here, the spirits will be very angry, Gloria.”

“A harmless earth spirit could hardly be angrier than Tawhirimatea is showing herself to be now,” she replied. Tawhirimatea was the god of weather. “Listen, Rihari, you wait here and mind the sheep. I’m going to ride down to camp and get the others before the storm gets any worse. I’ll take Kuri with me; he’ll lead me on the way back if I get lost.”

“You won’t make it,” Rihari said. “You don’t even know where it is.”

Gloria snorted. “I’ve always loved to race. And I’ll find the camp. On the way back, I’ll just ride uphill until I get my bearings. Keep firing off the rifles. That’ll help me find the way back. Maybe the others will even meet me halfway. Hopefully Wiremu has enough of a brain to forget
tapu
and lead everyone here.”

Rihari chewed his lower lip. “I don’t know, I—shouldn’t I be the one to ride? I promised Mr. McKenzie to look after you.”

Gloria glared at him. “I can look out for myself. And I’m ten times the rider you are.”

As if to prove it, Gloria spurred her reluctant mare, making her spin around on her hind legs. Accompanied by Nimue and Kuri, Gloria raced down the mountain at a gallop. She had never been afraid on a horse before, but that day she was rigid with fear. Ceredwen could not be allowed to notice that, though. Gloria relied on the mare’s sureness of foot but maintained secure contact with the reins to give the horse as much support and help as possible. Sometimes the animal slipped on the scree, and Gloria felt her heart miss a beat. But Ceredwen always recovered. Nimble as a cat, she leaped over ledges and flung herself around narrow hairpin turns. Further down in the foothills the snow turned to rain; the storm had yet to reach its full strength here. Gloria finally exhaled when, spread out beneath her, she saw the circular valley where they had put up their tents the day before. It was full of sheep. Over the course of the day, the men had herded thousands of them together.

It looked like all of the shepherds had returned; they were hastily taking down the tents. Clearly they had been ordered to hurry. Gloria looked for Jack and finally recognized him at one of the fires. He sat, leaning on his saddle, a blanket around his shoulders, apparently giving directions. Occasionally, he glanced nervously to the west. Gloria bit her lip. He must still be sick if he was making the men work instead of helping them. Hopefully he would be able to ride.

Ceredwen tugged impatiently against the reins, but Gloria made her slow to a walk as they approached the camp. Gloria dismounted and led the mare past the last few sheep. Jack’s pale face brightened when he saw her. He stood up with a bit of a struggle and walked toward her.

“Gloria, oh God, Gloria! I wouldn’t ride back down until I’d found you.” As Jack pulled her into an embrace, Gloria suddenly felt a leaden tiredness. She wanted to fall to the ground, and she longed for Jack’s warmth in a tent.

But then she pushed him away. “Not back down,” she said breathlessly, “upward and to the west. I know it sounds crazy, but there’s a valley.”

“But it’s
tapu
,” Wiremu remarked.

Jack gave him a stern look. “Maori hocus-pocus?” he asked.

Wiremu lowered his eyes.

“I wanted to ride back to the cabin,” Jack said indecisively. “I sent Hori and Carter ahead with part of the flock that way around midday.”

“Then they should make it before it gets serious. But we won’t, Jack. It’s a day’s ride from here. We’ll be at the caves in an hour or two.”

Jack reflected a moment. Then he nodded.

“We’ll follow Gloria,” he said, turning to the men. “Hurry up. We need to be faster than the storm.”

“But we’ll be riding into it,” one of the men objected.

“Then we’ll need to ride that much faster.”

Wiremu brought Jack his horse.

Gloria turned to him while Jack mounted. “Will he make it?”

“He has to. Whether uphill or down, he can’t stay here no matter what. We’ll be done for on open ground. That’s not just any storm, and it came out of nowhere.”

“The fog hid it,” Gloria yelled against the wind. “Now come on. I’ll ride ahead. The less confident riders should hold on tight. We’re going to move fast, and the path is uneven. But not that dangerous except for one or two places.”

The newborn lambs were unlikely to be able to keep up with the brisk pace, but they could not make allowances for that now. She tried to take the first few uphill miles at a gallop because the terrain was not yet that difficult, but they did not make progress as rapidly as Gloria had hoped. The horses shied at every little thing, and they did not want to move toward the darkness. All the animals wanted to flee the storm, and the dogs had to work very hard.

The rain first gave way to snow, and then to hail, which pelted their faces like arrows. Gloria looked at Jack and the less experienced riders with concern. The latter were keeping up their courage and clinging fast to the manes of their tolerant horses. Jack, however, looked completely exhausted. Though she was tempted to stop and look after him, she pulled herself together and spurred Ceredwen onward. Jack had to push through it. There was nothing she could do for him until they reached the safety of the valley.

Jack rode doubled over Anwyl’s neck, with his scarf wrapped around his face. He fretted over his decision to follow Gloria’s suggestion. If the worst of the storm caught up to them before they reached the valley, they would all die.

Gloria was having the same fight with herself. She was getting increasingly worried as the storm raged more violently and they moved forward more slowly. The route that had seemed so short to her on the descent seemed to be dragging on for hours. The riders’ coats were long since covered with snow and ice, but Gloria did not have time to think about the cold. She was working feverishly to find the right path despite the limited visibility. Kuri, however, seemed to know where he was and, more importantly, where he wanted to go. Gloria clung to the leash that prevented the dog from running off.

Suddenly a rifle shot sounded over the roar of the storm. The men behind Gloria gave a yell. They spotted a weak flash of light behind the curtain of snow. Rihari was firing the flare rounds. They were close.

“There it is,” Gloria screamed against the storm. “Do you see those rocks? Ride along them, and there’ll be an opening.”

Kuri was barking; she dropped his leash, and the dog ran to his master. The men and their animals pressed into the valley.

Rihari had thought of Gloria and the men, chilled to the bone from herding, and Jack. He had gathered brushwood and dry grass that the wind had blown under the rocks and even broke the last
tapu
and slaughtered a sheep, an old ram that would probably not have survived the trek anyway. Its meat was roasting over the fire as the exhausted men arrived. Jack slipped from his horse and gratefully accepted a cup of tea.