“Ka tika, ka tika!” the chieftains called.
“Therefore,” Kaka continued, “I support what my colleague Titi has suggested. Let us talk to the seabirds. Let us negotiate if we have to.” He paused and lifted his left birdwing like a pointed finger. “And in our magnanimity and generosity, let us offer the seabirds — a treaty.”
There was an inward gasp. A silence. A murmur as the suggestion passed from beak to beak. A treaty? A treaty? Yes, a treaty!
Kaka pushed his recommendation home before those pesky women could voice any objection. “In my humble opinion, we should not, unless absolutely necessary, plunge our people into a war which could devastate our lands. Does it really need to come to a fight? No. A treaty would be infinitely preferable.”
Titi looked at Chieftain Tui. “I would like to propose, my Lord,” he said, “that we take a vote on this matter.”
Te Arikinui Korimako and Huia, alarmed, turned to Kotuku. “Do something, Kotuku,” they said. “You hold rank over us.”
“Yes! Yes! Let us vote!” came the cries from all the branches of the sacred tree. Chieftain Kahu tried a last-ditch effort. “No, my Lords, I cannot stand by and let you do this. I know Karuhiruhi, I know his ultimate ambition, I —”
Chieftain Tui cut across Kahu’s words. “A vote has been called,” he said, “and I am obliged to put it before our parliament. We will abide by the consensus.”
“But —” Kahu tried again.
Tui put the vote. “All those in favour say ae.”
“Ae! Ae! Ae!”
Kotuku stood up. “Oh, bother,” she said, preening herself and tossing her head, “why am I always the one to have to do this!”
“All those against say no —”
“Wish me luck, ladies,” Kotuku said. She opened her wings, glided like a dream up to the perch of chiefs, and made a perfect two-point landing on the branch.
“No,” she said.
Chieftain Kaka was still sitting on the perch. Before he could stop her, Kotuku accidentally on purpose swept him off it with one of her gorgeous white wings and began her address.
“Ka tangi te titi! Ka tangi te kaka! Ka tangi hoki ahau —”
Immediately, there was an uproar from the male chieftains.
“Your neck should be wrung,” Chieftain Kakapo screamed, jumping up and down on the ground. “It is only the cock who crows.”
Kotuku looked down at him with scorn. “Get some class, Kakapo,” she said. “Whiti koreke ka kitea koe. Find yourself some wings and transform yourself into a real bird.”
But Chieftain Kakapo had support from Kawau. “You have no right to the paepae!” he cried. “Leave it immediately.”
Kotuku regurgitated a seed and spat it at Kawau with derision. “You, of all people tell me to mind my place? It is you who caused the seabirds’ hunger.”
Yes,” Te Arikinui Huia asked. “How did Karuhiruhi know about the lagoon?”
“I–I-I —”
“Ko au! Ko au! Ko au!” Te Arikinui Korimako mimicked.
“Because you showed him, didn’t you?” Kotuku intervened. “You couldn’t stop yourself, could you? You had to show you were better than he was, that yours was bigger than his and, because you did —”
Kotuku realised that this was the moment to drive home her point. She spread her wings, executed some movements of intimidation, lifted her beautiful throat and let everyone hear her warrior woman karanga.
Kra-aak. Kra-aak.
Even Ruru shuddered and closed his hooded eyes.
Kotuku began her korero of warning. “Listen! All of you! Ka maro te kaki o te karuhiruhi! The seashag’s neck is already stretched out.” The assembly gasped at her words. They knew very well their import.
“That’s telling them,” Huia muttered to herself as she saw the male chieftains lose colour.
“It is too late to negotiate,” Kotuku continued. “It is ridiculous for Titi and Kaka to promote the idea of a treaty. A treaty is tantamount to giving in. It is a position of weakness, not a position of strength. It indicates that we are prepared to accommodate. Both Titi and Kaka have forgotten that things of value must be fought for or defended, not negotiated. Stop sitting on your mana. Have you all grown too smug and fat for war?”
Kotuku showed her scorn for the idea by attacking the perch with her beak and tearing strips off it.
Titi made a plea to Chieftain Tui to intervene. “Point of order, my lord, point of order —”
Like all women, Kotuku carried on regardless. “And why is the idea of a treaty stupid?” she asked, strutting her stuff. “Because there is already a treaty! Don’t you remember? The Lord Tane made it when he gave us the land and his Great Forest. We are the Lord Tane’s ordained children. The seabirds intend to break this contract. Are you all blind as a bat?”
There was an outraged splutter from the branch where Chieftain Pekapeka was hanging upside down.
“No offence intended,” Kotuku apologised. “But don’t any of you trust the evidence of your eyes? You have all seen the seabird squadrons leaving their nesting places and assembling at the offshore islands. What else are they doing if they are not plotting war?”
The sound level of the gathered birds increased, evidencing their nervousness at Kotuku’s words. When the chieftains were like this, not knowing what to say or what to do next, their natural inclination was to pass the buck to their leader. Hadn’t he been appointed to sort out such problems as this?
Tui found himself in the hot seat.
“What do you say, Prime Minister?” Kahu asked.
“I must admit,” Tui began, “on second thoughts, with the benefit of hindsight, bearing in mind all the angles, having the best interests of all uppermost, given the circumstances —”
“Yes? Yes?”
Tui coughed, having run out of his usual stonewalling phrases. But he was not a supreme politician for nothing. “Kotuku has reminded me of two crucial points.”
“What points are those?” The male chieftains hung on Tui’s words.
“The first has to do with the magnitude of the seabird threat. Not only do we have to worry about Karuhiruhi. We also have to consider Karoro, Toroa, Taranui and Parara. Collectively, they are a formidable foe. Why would they all band together if they were not thinking on the big scale? And then there is the second point —”
Tui knew how to keep the chieftains in suspense. He paced his branch. Back and forth. Back and forth. “Kotuku is correct,” he concluded. “It is too late for a treaty.”
Everybody gasped. Tui spoke as the Supreme Commander. His sanction of Kotuku meant that he agreed with her assessment.
Kaka and Titi tried to object, but Tui waved them to be silent.
“Why is Kotuku correct?” Tui asked. “I will tell you why. She quoted a proverb about the outstretched neck of the seashag. But she quoted only the first part of it. The second part warns us that once his neck is stretched out, he cannot be stopped. He is already primed for battle and —”
“Ka tika,” the chieftains murmured. “Yes —”
“No fish has any hope when the seashag has seized it. Nor bird.”
At that, the noise of the landbirds grew into a loud hubbub. The divine Te Arikinui Kotuku launched herself into the air and returned to the women’s branch of the sacred tree. She affected a simple, glorious, bow.
“Why didn’t you stay up there!” Huia scolded.
“And make the decision?” Kotuku asked, fluttering her eyelids and preening her long filamentous plumes. “Oh no, let one of the men do that!”