Karuhiruhi called in albatross reinforcements: “Toroa, now is the time to redeem yourself. Order your battalions into the air.”
Toroa, glad to have a second chance, led the albatrosses into the fray. His strategy was to rise high above the battle and over Manu Valley. He had forgotten, however, that Chieftain Kahu and his squadron of hawks were waiting in the upper battlesky to thwart this very tactic. Their raking hind claws were lowered to slit open the enemy from head to stomach.
Nor was there any safety for the seabirds if they fell wounded into the Great Forest. There, the wingless forest birds trapped them and killed them. Even so, for a time the outcome of the battle hung in the balance. The fight was long. The fight was desperate. The uproar across the battlefield created such a din that it was heard on the other side of the world.
Then it was that Te Arikinui Kotuku decided to pitch in. “Don’t you girls get tired of knitting, waiting at home for our husbands to return from whatever crusades they go on?” she asked Huia, Te Arikinui Korimako and Te Arikinui Karuwai.
“Nothing to do,” Huia sighed, “except paint our clawnails Magenta Magic or Scarlet Desire.”
“Our job just to wait,” Korimako yawned, “for them to return battle-scarred and wounded —”
“To soothe and bandage them and to take them to the nest,” Te Arikinui Karuwai fluttered.
“And while we’re at it,” shuddered Huia, “we have to listen to all their boring tales of heroism and courage.” She preened down her ruffled feathers. “So what’s your suggestion?” she asked Kotuku.
“I think it is time, girls, for us to have some fun ourselves.” She launched herself from her branch. “Kia whakatane au i ahau!” she cried.
That’s when the tide of battle turned. And at that very moment when the new combatants were entering the field, something else happened. Karoro of black-backed gulls saw a black seashag falling to the sea. He thought it was his leader, Karuhiruhi, and his courage deserted him. “The day is lost!” he called. “Retreat! Retreat!”
His call echoed across the sky. Other seabirds took it up. One of them, Karuhiruhi, very much alive, cried out: “No! Maintain the attack! Press on! Press forward!”
It was too late. All around Karuhiruhi the seabirds were breaking off. Above the battlesky came the mocking laugh of Chieftain Parera. “Ke-ke! Ke-ke! Yes, run, run away from the women!”
That’s when Karuhiruhi knew he was defeated. Gone was his chance to dine all life long on cool, smooth river eels. Gone was his opportunity to become emperor of the world. He led his squad of seashags from the field of battle, vowing to whip that coward Karoro until he begged for mercy.
At the sight of the retreat, the landbirds gave a huge cheer. The kiwi came out and danced with the kaka. The owl clan celebrated with loud hoots of joy.
“Let there be a great feast of celebration,” Tui said. To prove how glad he was that his inlet was safe, Kawau ordered his iwi to provide as many eels as all could eat. The merriment, feasting and dancing lasted many days, and all were happy — except for Te Arikinui Kotuku.
“Something’s wrong,” she said. “We’ve forgotten to do something. There’s something important that we have overlooked.”
“And what was that something?” Skylark asked.
“Well,” Hoki continued, “Karuhiruhi happened upon it and his luck turned out to be to his advantage. This is how it happened:
“After the battle, Karuhiruhi brooded over his defeat and became afraid of the divine retribution that might come down upon him from the Lord Tane. He ordered his clansmen to make a huge altar to the Lord Tane, and on it he made many sacrifices. ‘Forgive me, Lord Tane, for I have sinned. I tried to put myself above you, I tried to put myself in your place. I am unworthy of your protection.’
“Karuhiruhi stretched out his neck, waiting for the divine blow which would take his life. Instead the voice of the Lord Tane came down from the heavens: ‘I forgive you, my disobedient servant and I shall give you another chance. For you have done what my landbirds, whom I love dearly, have not done. You, Karuhiruhi, have made sacrifice to me whereas they, in their pride at their victory, have forgotten to honour me with similar offerings.’”
“Oh no,” Skylark said.
“Oh yes,” Hoki sighed. “The manu whenua won the battle of the birds but they were as the Israelites who, when liberated from Egypt, did not praise the Lord their God and instead made a golden calf and worshipped it rather than their Divine Deliverer. And just as happened with the Children of Israel, so it happened to the landbirds. They were vain. They could only think of their victory, their triumph. Because of their arrogance, the Great Book of Birds tells us that the Lord Tane chastised them. Because of it, the Lord Tane said, he would test them again in a second battle of the birds.”
“A second battle?” Skylark asked.
Hoki nodded. “It’s all written in the Great Book of Birds, Revelations, Chapter Four, Verse Five. I know the words by heart.”
Hoki closed her eyes and recited the verse: “And it shall come to pass that in the latter days the sky will open. Then, oh birds, the Lord Tane will allow the great battle between those he loved, his landbirds, to be fought again with the seabirds, for the landbirds hath not respected his love and, indeed, shewed arrogance and did not make appropriate sacrificial offering unto him as Karuhiruhi did. So unto him, Karuhiruhi and all his descendants, Tane will offer up this opportunity as a lesson to be learnt by his birds of the land. And Armageddon shall begin in the third year of the second millennium as it is counted by Man. In that year, at summer solstice, the rising sun at dawn will be in conjunction with the heliacal rising of the planet Venus. And what will be will be.”
“So that’s how Venus comes into it,” Skylark said. “But what about the prophecy? What about tomorrow?”
Hoki opened her eyes. She was staring straight at Skylark, hypnotic, probing into her as if searching for something.
“The Great Book of Birds also mentions, two verses later, that the Lord Tane received a delegation from the landbirds. The delegation was led by Te Arikinui Kotuku. ‘Oh Lord Tane,’ Te Arikinui Kotuku pleaded, ‘forgive us, your creatures of your Great Forest, for our sin of pride. Revoke, we beg you, this agreement with the seabirds.’
“It is written,” Hoki continued, “that the Lord Tane was not unmoved by Te Arikinui Kotuku’s entreaties. ‘What is done cannot be undone,’ the Lord Tane answered. ‘My word is my word and I will not go back on it. However —’”
“However?” Skylark asked.
“The Lord Tane said he would give the landbirds a second chance also. In the latter days, he said, just before the sky opens, he would send a chick, and she would have the power to deny the prophecy’s fulfilment.”
So that’s it, Skylark thought. She stared at Hoki. Her mind was whirling but she was icy calm. “Oh no you don’t,” Skylark said. “This is the ‘uh-oh’ part, isn’t it? The ‘hel-lo, is anybody home?’ part. You think I’m the chick, don’t you?”
“You’re the only one who’s turned up,” Hoki answered. Surely, now that Skylark knew the whole story, she would know who she was and what she was supposed to do.