“I hope you like your presents, Arnie,” Hoki said.
The sun hurled itself into the sky like a fireball, drenching the sea the colour of blood. From the unholy Sea of White Feathers arose a loud screaming, cawing, hissing and squealing as the seabird squadrons greet-ed the dawn. Beaks open and wings flapping, they turned black eyes to the island fortress. Three figures appeared on the ramparts: Karuhiruhi, chieftain of seashags; Karoro, his co-conspirator and leader of the black-backed gulls; and Kawanatanga, the leader of the seabirds from the future. Immediately, the cry went up. “Kawanatanga! Karuhiruhi! Karoro! Kawanatanga!”
That’s when Kawanatanga made a big mistake. Presumptuously he stepped forward in front of his ancestor, Karuhiruhi, to receive the acclaim. “This is a fine day to go hunting,” he began, “but not for fish. Rather, it is the flocks of manu whenua that will fill our ovens tonight.”
A thunderous cheer arose from the sea. But just as Kawanatanga was about to resume he heard Karuhiruhi hissing angrily at him. “Step back, Kawanatanga, I command you to step back.” The old bird was quivering with rage, his eyes red and enormous with anger. “You are usurping my position. You may be chief in your world, but in this world I am the chief. It is I and Karoro who lead this army, not you.”
Kawanatanga tried to make light of it. “Our first argument, venerable ancestor?”
Karuhiruhi pushed past him and took the leadership back. “My descendant, Kawanatanga, has forgotten that the youngest born, even though an important person, must be subordinate to his elder.” Then he smiled forgivingly. “On one matter, however, he is right: tonight the ovens will be filled and the flesh that we taste will be birds of the land.”
The seabirds cheered louder than ever, and it was a balm to Karuhiruhi’s wounded vanity. He saw that Areta had come to the dais with his baby son in her arms. He picked up his son and lifted him high above his head. “My brothers, we fight again to overturn the Great Division,” Karuhiruhi continued. “We fight for the new generation, so that they will grow up enjoying the freedom we will surely win for them this day. This time we have the blessing of the Lord Tane, who has sent my descendant Kawanatanga to ensure our victory —”
Karuhiruhi returned his son to Areta. He motioned Kawanatanga forward. He had a magnanimous smile on his face, but his eyes were still angry.
“Bow down before me, mokopuna,” he whispered. “Do it now, so that all can see your allegiance to me. I command you to do it.”
Command? For a fleeting moment Kawanatanga felt murderous rage. How dare Karuhiruhi put him in this position of subservience. Then cold reason flooded his mind. It was imperative to show a united front. Success against the landbirds depended on it. Slowly, Kawanatanga sank to his knees, swallowing his pride as the acclamation mounted — not for him but for Karuhiruhi. Triumphant, Karuhiruhi patted Kawanatanga’s shoulders.
“Waiho ra kia tu takitahi ana nga whetu o te rangi. Let it be one star alone that stands above the others in the sky,” Karuhiruhi said.
Meanwhile, Arnie had been very busy. He had established the frontline of the manu whenua at the seaward end of Manu Valley. The command post, however, was at Chieftain Kawau’s lagoon, deep in the heart of the valley. There, he was trying to convince the Council of War that rather than wait for the war to begin they should go out and meet the advancing enemy.
“Our normal strategy,” Tui began, “has been to wait until our borders have been crossed before we retaliate. But I like the idea of a pre-emptive strike.”
“Ka tika,” Ruru hooted. “We have always maintained the defensive. Such a move, however, will take the battle onto the offensive.”
Chieftain Kuku of wood pigeons, who happened to overhear, and who never really had an opinion, added his voice to the considerations.
“He kuku ki te kainga,” Kotuku sighed, “he kaka ki te haere. A pigeon at home becomes a kaka abroad, loud in his opinions.”
“Thank you, my elders of the war council,” Arnie said. He turned and gave his instruction to Chieftain Kotare of kingfishers. “Take my command to the landbirds of the open skies, windhovers, harriers, eagles, hawks, swifts, ducks, godwits and curlews, that they are to advance to the front and await my order. All forest birds are to take up positions in a second line of defence to be activated only when the seabirds cross the border into Manu Valley. Make sure that the forest birds control their ardour. The windhovers must have a clear shot. The only way to win this battle is to maintain control and strategy. That’s how I was taught in the Army.”
“The Army?” Chieftain Kotare asked.
“Oh, it’s too difficult to explain,” Arnie answered.
“And where would you like us, oh Chieftain?” Skylark interrupted. She motioned to Te Arikinui Kotuku, Te Arikinui Huia and Te Arikinui Karuwai, all of whom were making their mock obeisances to the Council of War.
“We’re the third line defences, eh girls!” Kotuku said as she put on her battledress and armour.
“Um, thanks,” Arnie said, not knowing what else to say. Then he turned to Skylark. “Have a heart, eh? Don’t give me such a hard time. I’m trying to fight a war here, and —”
Suddenly Arnie saw something from the corner of his eye. He looked up, and his binocular vision caught a glimpse of a strange object.
“Oh my god,” he yelled. He grabbed Skylark and the three arikinui, and pulled them down to the ground.
Just in time. Hoki’s shotgun landed right in the spot where they had been standing.
“E hika!” Huia screamed “What’s that.”
“Keep down,” Arnie yelled. “There’s more incoming on the way.”
This time it was Karuwai who screamed as three more objects came sailing through the sky. For a moment afterwards there was silence. Skylark found herself beak to beak with Arnie and saw his brown and blue eyes staring into hers.
“You can let me up now,” she said to him, as Tui and Kahu came to their aid.
“Oh … sure …”
“We are definitely a crowd,” Kotuku said to the other three arikinui as they stood up. Skylark brushed herself down and stared at the objects that had almost brained her. Stuck in the marshy ground was a shotgun, rounds of ammunition, a pocketknife and a box of matches. As recognition dawned she began to hop about, giggling and jumping in the air.
“I just don’t believe it! Where did they come from?” she asked. She flipped onto her back, kicking her legs and chirruping with mirth.
As for Arnie, he was gobsmacked, totally speechless.
“You’ve had a special delivery,” Skylark giggled.
“Hoki must have heard me!” Arnie answered. He grabbed Skylark with joy.
“What’s all the fuss about?” Chieftain Kawau asked. The commotion had attracted the Council of War.
“We’ve just been sent a secret weapon,” Arnie said. “Those seabirds are in for the shock of their tiny feathered lives.”
Hoki’s gift had come just in time. As Arnie and Skylark were celebrating, a forward scout came whirring down to the ground.
“Sir, we were looking seaward when something strange occurred. A blanket made of white feathers has just lifted off the sea. What does it mean?”
“The manu moana are on their way,” Arnie said.
The seabird army lifted off. From the start Karuhiruhi and Kawanatanga became locked in a dangerous play for power. Much to Kawanatanga’s anger, Karuhiruhi ordered that he and his seabird reinforcements should bring up the rear.
“This is my fight, not yours,” Karuhiruhi said. “I will lead it with Karoro of black-backed gulls, Parara of prions and Taranui of terns.”
Karuhiruhi also wanted to teach his upstart descendant a lesson on who was the leader. It was a risky game, for Kawanatanga was clearly the stronger.