Plume of the Arawas
III. The White Hawk
III. The White Hawk
I listen to the cry
Of yonder bird. It cries:
“Takoikoi, takoikoi,
Takéré, takéré!
It is a warning cry.
Our foes still wait outside.
Ki waho é! A-ha-aha!
Outside! Ha-ha-a!
“The moon wanes and dies, but returns again. Not so, however, with you. Therefore, beware of rashness!”
In front of the ariki stood the youths of Manaia's band, and to them he was addressing words of caution.
The taua had arrived back at the central rock before midday, and the warriors were now busy clearing out scattered parties of Tuhoe from the wooded slopes near by. The Arawas required freedom of movement for that which was in hand. They required access to the forest tracks along the heights above the gorge. The gorge itself would be watched by Tuhoe day and night, and no secret movements would be possible there.
Mawaké-Taupo had explained his plan. Manaia and his youths were to avoid the foe, and seek to reach a point in the forest opposite the Tuhoe pa. Then they were to fall back, without fighting if possible, but leaving one of their number behind in some hidden spot, unnoticed by Tuhoe, there to wait for the darkness to come.
Tuhoe would fear a trap, and would be cautious. They would follow the retreating Arawas, but they page 85 would not force a fight. They would know that near at hand were the tried warriors of the taua. The chief danger to the Arawas would lie in the impetuosity of the youths themselves, and Mawaké-Taupo was unwilling to risk his plan or sacrifice his young men needlessly. So he had warned them against rashness. Now he proceeded:
“The one who shall be left to reach the pa is Manaia. He is the White Hawk. He it is who shall bear some red soil of Pukékura to old Manawa-roa, and carry the burden of his father's promise.
“No path opens up through the side ravine, but this morning, as I called Manaia to my side, I picked out a spot where the cliff face may be scaled. Jutting rocks will hold the ropes of flax. Let my Hawk fly into the pa! It is the only way! Enough!”
No sooner had he finished speaking than out in front of him leaped Rata and Kahu. They demanded to be heard.
An impatient sign from the ariki, and Rata burst forth in angry tones, while Kahu glowered savagely from behind because he had not been chosen to speak first.
“O Ariki!” cried Rata. “I am the friend of Manaia, yet I will not allow him to always take the post of honour. I am a chief, and thou knowest my rank in the tribe. Therefore, leave this task to me and to my whalebone weapon! Moreover, Manaia promised that the next fight would be to me. Now let his word live. O Ariki! let his word live!”
Before Mawaké-Taupo could reply, the wrathful Kahu had pressed forward again and, in uncontrolled words, was upbraiding his chief for favouring his own branch of the tribe:
page 86“Art thou afraid, O Ariki, that I, Kahu, of the blood of Tama-te-kapua, may advance my name before the tribe? Why should Manaia be chosen always? Is this the way to build up chiefs for the tribe? Shame be thy portion, O Ariki, if in this matter thou dost use thy power to favour thine own flesh and blood! Enough from Kahu! Now do with me as thou wilt!”
“So!” replied Mawaké-Taupo. “Two of the fledgelings of the Bird-of-Tu dig their talons into me. So! And their talons are sharp.”
He paused, and then proceeded:
“Yet their demand is just. The young hawks shall prove themselves. Both shall go. To Rata and to Kahu shall be the honour. Manaia can show the spot to them, and then move back.
“As to this red soil from Pukékura, let it be divided into three small portions, and wrapped in leaves! One portion can be for Rata, another for Kahu, and the third will be retained by me. Grieve not, O Manaia, for that third portion may yet be needed!”
Manaia made no comment, but he stared at Kahu as that elated youth strutted about brandishing his weapon and even daring to comment audibly upon the success of his protest.
It took but a moment or two to divide up the red soil, but much longer to recite the incantations over it. Mawaké-Taupo finished at last, and then came his final orders:
“Take with you your ropes of flax, O Rata, O Kahu, but cover them up, lest Tuhoe see them, and see too much. Hasten, for the way is clear, and the warriors are there to see you all safely up the tracks! Haeré! Go!”
As they entered the valley on the northern side of page 87 the gorge, they were met by a party of Arawas, and led quickly into the forest and up an easy ridge. For some time they moved along a track, until a glimpse of a leaping form showed them that Tuhoes were just ahead.
Leaving a few men to hold that track, they forced a way through the thick undergrowth, until they reached another track running above and close to the gorge itself. Soon they came in touch with further Tuhoes, and these also fell back before the Arawas.
It was clear that Tuhoe felt safe in the security of the pa, and so had sent out only a few parties, with orders to fall back as soon as the Arawas advanced.
The notes of a war-trumpet now warned Manaia that the pa itself could not be far off. He halted the warriors, and then went on ahead with only his band of youths, stationing them at short intervals along the track, and warning them to be in readiness to retire.
By the time he was near the cliff above the rocky basin, only Rata and Kahu remained with him. Cautiously the three youths crept through the undergrowth and out to the edge of the cliff until, unseen by any foe, they peered through a screen of leaves, and saw in front of them, across the gulf, the great pa they sought.
For some time they lay there, thrilled with the novelty of the sight. This Tuhoe fort differed so much from Hikurangi and other pas of the Arawas. Not a palisade was to be seen except on the far side, where several rows guarded a narrow ridge leading up to the forest beyond.
The pa itself occupied an extensive area, and, scattered over the inside portion away from the page 88 rocky edge, were many thatched dwellings, some of considerable size.
Separated from the others was an exceedingly long building of the Wharé-tapéré type, and not far from it on the southern side was a small dwelling made entirely of wooden slabs. Now in front of this slab-dwelling was an armed Tuhoe on guard.
“Manawa-roa!” whispered Manaia. The others nodded in reply.
Then Manaia pointed downwards, and Rata and Kahu saw what had escaped their notice before. The cliff face below the pa was worn in parts, no doubt by the action of alternate heats and frosts, and then by winter rains. A series of ledges had formed, while here and there were jutting rocks whose upturned points might give lodgment to loops of flax. Yes, it could be scaled, but surely not by night, whispered Kahu.
“Let the eye measure the distances between the ledges!” whispered Manaia in reply. “Each seems within easy throwing distance of the one below. See the sharp-pointed rocks above that hollow there. When darkness will have come, lower yourselves down by these trailing vines into the basin below, and feel your way across towards that hollow!
“Then throw! To what purpose were ye trained, if ye cannot judge of distance? What matters the light? Cannot the ropes of flax speak as they softly strike the rock?
“One thing more! After handing the red soil of Pukékura to Manawa-roa, forget not the word of the ariki! An Arawa must bear an Arawa chief to Hawaiki. Enough!”
He waited but long enough to see Rata carefully page 89 hide his bundle of ropes and then himself under a fallen log. Manaia skilfully covered up the tracks as he moved away. Even a Tuhoe trained in the forest ways would not see a thing amiss.
Then Manaia looked around for Kahu, but he was nowhere to be seen. Only with difficulty did Manaia at last locate him on a little rise farther back. He was lying in a hollow under a spreading shrub, but from this spot he could see the fallen log under which Rata lay hidden.
Smoothing out the ferns and the moss near by, and slowly obliterating all footprints in the softer portions of the track as he passed along, Manaia moved back towards his band of youths.
Reaching the first one, he gave forth a defiant cry that resounded through the forest. Then, moving swiftly along and gathering in his youths one by one, he caused them each to repeat that cry. Tuhoe would not remain dumb under so taunting a challenge. Soon he heard the answering cries as their warriors followed hard upon the Arawa track.
Joining up with his main party, Manaia led his men at a run through the forest and down the slope towards the gorge, with Tuhoe close behind. Ah! The ruse had apparently succeeded, for the outside watchers had certainly been drawn away from the rocky basin, and even the sentries in the pa itself might now become less watchful.
………..
It was towards evening that Manaia found Kahu. He lay unconscious on the track about half-way up the slope, with blood still flowing from a gaping wound in his side. One limb bore the marks of contact with page 90 a jagged tree stump, and lacerated knees and bleeding hands showed that he must have crawled and crawled along until, utterly exhausted, he had collapsed.
Carrying the limp form as if it were that of a child, Manaia moved quickly down the slope and over towards the great rock in the centre of the gorge. The astonished Arawas looked on in utter silence, and in silence Manaia held out his burden for his father to see.
“Ha!” cried the ariki. “One bird of Te Arawa has broken a wing, and it trails upon the ground. So much for that bird! Now what of the other? Lose no time! Kahu must speak. Quickly!”
Rough hands plucked the youth from Manaia's grasp and bore him to a fire. Green leaves upon the embers soon emitted a pungent smoke. A whiff or two, and Kahu coughed, opened his eyes for a moment, and gasped. Then with difficulty he whispered words significant of meaning to every free-born Arawa there:
“A captive! Rata—a captive!”
………..
Evening came, then early night, and at last Manaia's conference with his father was at an end.
Mawaké-Taupo had known that objection would be useless; but in any case he would not have opposed the wishes of his son, for no one could expect Manaia to stand idly by and make no effort to save his friend.
Further, the word of an Arawa chief to old Manawaroa had still to be kept. Nor could the Arawas leave the Uréwera with this apparent defeat hanging over them like a black cloud.
In the darkness, Manaia felt a strong pressure upon his arm, and it helped him. Then: page 91 “Haeré ra, é taku tamaiti, haeré ra! Farewell, O my son, farewell!”
………..
With no garment save a loin-cloth to hinder his movements, with nothing on him that might cause the faintest rustle to reach attentive ears, Manaia stole forth by a roundabout route towards the track above the gorge. Yet he was not altogether without burdens. Under his belt were a greenstone meré and a little package of soil from Pukékura, while round his waist he had wrapped coil after coil of plaited flax, thin and light but very strong, each coil weighted at one end for the running loop.
Passing the sentries, he soon reached the forest, but had not gone far along the track before he sensed the presence of some Tuhoes just ahead. Making a wide detour and carefully feeling his way through an unseen tangle of undergrowth, he at last picked up the track again and was able to move on more rapidly.
A second time was he delayed. From a dip in the track there came floating up the scent of a bark fire. Tuhoe watchers would be there, seeking warmth against the chill of the night air. Manaia passed them well to one side, and again found the track, but much time had been lost.
At last he reached the edge of the cliff above the basin. It was after midnight, for there above him in the heavens was Te Mangaroa, a continuous pathway of splendour across the sky, and its position enabled him to judge the passage of time.
But feeling uncomfortable at his close proximity to the spot where Rata had most probably been page 92 captured, Manaia moved back along the edge to the point where the basin had its outlet into the gorge.
The whole face of the cliff on this side was covered with a mass of creepers and trailing vines hanging down from the forest above, and Manaia had ample support for even his great weight as he lowered himself down to the black depths below.
Landing on the rocky floor, he quickly skirted the bottom of the cliff for some distance, and then rested, seeking to fix his position. Soon his eyes became accustomed to the deeper gloom of the basin, and he could discern the outline of the Tuhoe pa against the background of a sky of stars. Now he knew exactly where he was, but he remained standing there for a while listening to the watch-cries of the various sentries in the pa above.
One sentry alone presented danger. He occupied a spot close to where Manaia hoped to scale the cliff, and he was wide awake. He was seeking to let the whole world know that he was awake. Clearly came his call:
“Here on the watch am I:
E—e! I a—ha-aha!
Wakeful on watch am I:
E—e! I a—ha-aha!”
Mingled with the cries of the sentries were some muffled bursts of laughter that made Manaia anxious. What could Tuhoe be doing that could keep them merry at this time of night? Were they taunting the young captive now in their midst? And how could that captive be saved, if prisoner in a crowded building?
Carefully, and slowly, Manaia felt his way across until he reached the little hollow on the far side. He stood up, and to his mind's eye there came a clear vision of projecting rocks and narrow ledges above.
page 93He threw up one of his flax ropes to almost its full length, and missed. The rope came tumbling back without a sound. He threw again, and again he missed, but this time he felt the message the rope sent back as it struck the rock.
Manaia moved a little to the right, and threw again. The rope held. Gently he put the strain on, and the loop tightened at the top. Slowly he put his weight upon the rope, and still it held. Gently he pulled himself up and up with straight and slow lifts, fearing to dislodge the rock, or cause the loop to slip. Soon he reached the first ledge. It was wider than he had thought.
A moment's rest, and up went the loop again. At the fourth throw it held, and soon the second ledge was reached.
The third ledge proved hard to gain. Six times Manaia threw without result. He tried again on either side, but still the rope came tumbling back.
He lengthened the throw after tying two ropes together, and at last the loop held. The fourth and fifth ledges were near at hand and were soon reached, and by this time Manaia was within an arm's length of the summit.
That last ledge was very narrow, but it sufficed. With his back pressed to the rock, and with his feet wide apart to give him balance, Manaia prepared his line of retreat. He tied all his ropes securely together, end to end, then he carefully turned and hitched a special loop around a knob of rock. An upward and sideways twist from below would release that loop, but no amount of downward pull upon the rope would cause the loop to slip or tighten.
The way out was clear. Now for the way in! page 94 Surely it was time for that sentry above to chant his watch-cry! The other sentries had repeated their calls. Ah! At last! Upon the still night air came again the watchman's cry:
“Here on the watch am I:
E—e! I a—ha—aha!”
The man chanted joyfully, knowing nothing of that lurking form on the ledge so near at hand. Manaia slid over the top and crept towards him. Not a sound came to give the Tuhoe warning. He chanted on:
“Wakeful on watch am I:
E—e! I a-ha—aha!”