The Moa Cave Read online

  The bird quietly moved down the ridge and across the valley floor, stopping every now and then to sense the air. Ata could hear a deep ‘tuk, tuk’ sound coming from the nervous bird.

  It was moving in Ata’s direction. Even though it was still fifty metres away, he thrust the spear out, more for his own benefit than to scare the bird. The others moved closer forming a semicircle to force it down the valley into the swamp. The moa saw what was happening and looked for the easiest way out; and that was up the ridge past the boy.

  Ata yelled at it waving his spear in the air, but the bird knew there was only one way of escape. Without warning it started to run directly at him. Ata yelled as loudly as he could. Abruptly the bird stopped and stared defiantly down at the boy. Ata jabbed the spear at its breast. The moa’s right foot slashed through the air catching Ata’s arm with its sharp claws. He screamed in pain, desperately throwing his spear as he fell. The spear touched the giant bird in the eye before falling to the ground.

  The moa was not badly injured but just enough to make it panic. It turned and ran down the hill towards the swamp. The rest of the hunters closed in, shouting and waving their spears. Without pausing it ran into the swamp and in ten strides it could move no further. Slowly, it sank until its legs were trapped in the mud. The hunt was over; all that remained was the kill.

  Two of the brothers ran back for the gear that had been left at the bottom of the middle ridge. Their grandfather tended to Ata. The boy had been lucky, suffering only a gash down his left forearm. There would be no permanent damage, except for a scar that he could use to skite about his adventures. By the time his brothers returned he was back on his feet with the wound covered in toetoe plumes bound with flax.

  Ata’s father removed the tie from the rolled-up wooden fence. Standing near the edge of the swamp he skilfully flicked his arms, unrolling it onto the swamp. Now its purpose was obvious: the wooden slats formed a pathway out to the now still bird. Carrying only an adze and the long narrow sack he carefully stepped onto the path. Water oozed between the wood but it held his weight. When he reached the moa it made a few desperate lunges with its beak. On the fourth he slipped the sack over its head. Immediately the bird was quiet. Three slashes at the neck with the adze were enough to cut the windpipe and artery. The dying bird responded by violently swinging its neck around in an arc, catching the man in the chest and knocking him into the swamp.

  He scrambled back onto the wooden pathway and stood facing the rest of the hunters, blood over half his body, mud over the rest. ‘Ai, ai, ai,’ hooted one of the brothers. Then they were all shouting and laughing and hugging each other, releasing the tension that had built over half a day. Ata was patted on the head, the back and even, playfully, his backside, his face almost split in half by his smile.

  Eventually they calmed and set about recovering the limp bird. Ropes were attached to the head and legs and the carcass hauled from the swamp. Its huge size was now obvious. It was as big as moa ever got, a wily old bird that had survived all its mates.

  Stone blades were used to cut the skin from the neck, down the breast to the crotch. By pulling, punching and a bit of cutting, the skin was removed. This was considered more valuable than the flesh. The meat would last for a few days; the warmth of the skin and feathers would last for many winters.

  The gut was opened from the rear. Ata’s grandfather identified it as a female, although he said it had not laid eggs for many years. The large liver was removed and put in one of the baskets. Then the heart was taken out and passed around. It completely filled Ata’s cupped hands. He found the feel of the thing somehow disturbing and only held on to it long enough to hide his thoughts.

  Finally the gizzard was removed. Ata’s father hacked it open and washed it clean in a pool that had formed at the edge of the swamp. Suddenly all were quiet as Ata’s father stepped up to his son, holding the gizzard in front of him. Ata knew the tradition, having dreamed of it many times. He bowed, clapped his hands once and then carefully picked the polished stones from the organ. They would be his, a symbol of his mana, his strength and his courage, a prized possession for him and his children. His father dropped the gizzard and hugged the boy in a display of affection that few were ever allowed to see. They parted, neither of them ashamed by the flow of tears. The silence was broken by a cheer from the others who for a while had relived their own experience of that magical moment.

  Later that night, after the feast and the stories, Ata took one of the moa bones, picked up his bag of stones and went to his hut. He rolled the new possessions into the seal skin that was his bed. Quietly he moved out of the hut and into the darkness away from the fire and village. He wanted to be alone and knew just where he would go, a secret place that was all his own.

  He waded across the stream towards the cliffs. It took some time to find the opening in the darkness. Carefully he pushed the bedroll in front of him as he crawled into the cave. Inside was total darkness, yet he knew his way around as if it was his hut back at the camp. He climbed up onto the ledge, unrolled his bed and snuggled down into the soft fur. In his hand was the basket of gizzard stones, and under his arm was the thigh bone of the biggest bird anyone would ever see. Soon he was asleep. He didn’t dream, for no dream could ever be better than the day just gone.

  Chapter 10

  Tyler saw the others walking at the far end of the beach. He’d been in the cave much longer than planned. He’d found it difficult to drag himself back into the world of the living. He half wanted to stay—Ata would never annoy him the way the girls often did. Still, he did want to see the seals, so he started to run, hoping he would catch them before they went into the flax.

  Bill saw Tyler coming and waited for him. ‘Right,’ he started when Tyler caught up. ‘Here are the rules. Don’t get too close. They might look big and clumsy, but they can move very fast when they want to. Do make lots of noise. It’s better if they know you’re coming. Then you won’t surprise them. And watch out for their muck—I don’t want you taking that stink back to the woolshed.’

  They then moved a little further along the beach where Bill pointed out the tracks in the sand where seals had hauled themselves out of the water. They followed one of the tracks and soon found the animal leaning against a flax bush, sound asleep.

  ‘These are Hooker sea lions. They’re much bigger than the seals you’ll see lying on rocks. They don’t breed here any more. Most of them are young, immature males. Next summer, this one will stay further south on one of the islands to breed. They were very popular with early Maori as they come ashore on beaches and are fairly easy to catch. Then around the early 1800s millions were killed for their furs and oil. Now their numbers are increasing again. Each year we’re getting a few more coming here. They’re a bit of a nuisance really as they keep breaking down my fences.’ He paused, looking thoughtfully at the kids. ‘Can you lot look after yourselves while I go and check them out? I don’t come to this part of the farm very often.’

  The kids all agreed they could look after themselves. They were used to it—Alice hadn’t done any looking after since the first day.

  When Bill was out of sight Tyler said, ‘Right! Here’s my dare. You have to touch this sea lion on the back.’ He smiled wickedly at them. ‘And I have to do it first.’

  Tyler planned his movements carefully. He wanted an easy way out in case the animal chased him: he knew for sure it would no longer be sleeping after he had touched it.

  He crept forward. As he got closer the smell of the animal reached him; it stank like nothing he’d ever smelled before.

  When he was within a metre he took a couple of quick strides forward and slapped the sea lion hard in the middle of the back. Without waiting to see what the reaction was, he sprinted back to where the girls were.

  The sea lion was now a growling, wild beast. It took a couple of surges towards them baring a set of very sharp teeth. Then it settled to stare at them, grunting every now and then, daring anyone to get closer.
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  ‘That wasn’t fair,’ said Mandy. ‘How am I expected to touch it now?’

  Hine said nothing, but there was a hint of a smile on her face. Tyler said, ‘Easy. Just sneak around behind it. We’ll stay here to distract it.’

  Mandy snarled at him before turning and moving away. Tyler thought she had given up until he saw her sneaking behind a patch of toetoe. He had to admit she had guts: that was no friendly zoo seal sitting in front of them.

  A moment later she appeared about three metres behind the animal. Slowly she moved forward and was almost within touching distance. Then somehow the sea lion sensed something was wrong. It swung its head around and saw the girl. With a huge lunge it launched itself at her. Mandy fled, scarcely escaping the slashing teeth.

  Then she fell. The sea lion saw its chance and surged towards her. Tyler moved towards the animal, screaming at the top of his voice and clapping his hands. It turned and looked at him, before moving back to Mandy again. Tyler picked up a handful of sand and threw it at the sea lion’s face. It worked! The animal paused long enough for Mandy to scramble to her feet and scuttle away.

  Soon it was over. The sea lion had settled and Hine and Tyler waited at a safe distance. A moment later Mandy stomped back into the clearing. All the front of her clothes and most of her face were covered with brown muck.

  ‘Pooh, Mandy, you stink,’ complained Hine. ‘Is that seal muck?’ Mandy simply stared angrily at her.

  ‘Hey Mandy,’ laughed Tyler. ‘You’re all chocolate coated now.’

  She spun around and headed back to the beach.

  Tyler had to rub it in. ‘Now you’re the one with only one life. And I’ve got two. How does that feel?’

  She turned her head and glared at him. ‘Get lost! Both of you!’ she yelled before starting the long trek back down the beach.

  Not long afterwards Bill returned. ‘What was all that yelling about?’

  Hine answered, ‘We got a bit close to the sea lion and it lunged at us. Mandy fell over and we had to scare it off.’

  ‘Where is she now?’

  ‘She fell in some muck and has gone back to wash herself.’

  Bill chuckled. ‘And she has to put up with that smell all the way back. Oh dear, the poor wee thing.’ He sniggered for a while longer. ‘Come on, I think she’s far enough away for us to follow without smelling it too much. Let’s hope she’s all cleaned up before we get back.’

  Whether Mandy was cleaned up or not was unknown when they got back to the woolshed: she wasn’t there.

  After a brief discussion it was decided that Bill and Tyler would head back to the beach while it was still light. Hine would take a look around the woolshed and the surrounding area.

  They retraced their steps, yelling out her name every few metres. When they got to the beach they began looking for her footprints. After a bit of detective work they were able to work out which were hers. Instead of turning up the road she had continued along the beach towards the cliffs.

  Tyler began to have horrible thoughts that she may have found his cave. If she had, then the whole thing would be wrecked. He couldn’t share it with her. He didn’t want to share it with anyone.

  When they reached the stream it became clear why she had headed this way. There were lots of prints on a small sand island where she must have crouched to clean herself. A foul odour in the air supported that.

  With relief, Tyler noticed that the only prints leading to and from the cave were his own. He hoped that Bill wouldn’t decide to check them out.

  The trail disappeared from there. They called her name a few times but there was nothing in return except for the roar of the sea and the calls of some distant gulls.

  Bill was unsure about what to try next. He looked up the cliff face. ‘There’s a possibility she might have gone up there to get a view of the beach.’

  ‘Is there a track up there?’

  ‘Yeah, sort of. It’s a goat track really. But I think we should take a look.’

  The track was not easy. They looked for traces of footprints but there was no dust or mud in which they could form. When they looked back, they hadn’t formed any prints either.

  The top was a mix of brownish grass and thorny bushes that Bill said were mingimingi. He pointed them out to Tyler. ‘See the way the thorns head off at right angles to each other forming a barrier? It’s thought that these plants evolved like that to stop being eaten by moa. There are more plants like that in New Zealand than anywhere else.’

  Pushing through the bushes they reached a spot where they could see all the way down the beach. The view was fantastic. Tyler realised they must be standing almost straight above the cave. He smiled to himself: the rock seemed solid enough. There was no need to worry about the cave collapsing on him.

  They moved around calling her name. At one stage they thought they had a reply, but when they investigated it was just a young kid crying for its mother.

  As the light faded Bill decided to go back to the woolshed. ‘For all we know she’s already back there and we’re out here freezing for nothing.’

  She was not back.

  Alice was woken and the adults settled into a serious discussion. Then Hine and Tyler were quizzed.

  ‘What exactly happened back there at the sea lions?’ asked Molly. ‘Did you upset her or anything?’

  Tyler and Hine looked at each other. Tyler nodded. So Hine told them the whole story about the dare to touch the sea lion and what had happened to Mandy.

  The adults were not happy. ‘That was an incredibly stupid thing to do,’ said Molly. ‘Those are wild animals. They’re not called lions for nothing. That bull would have killed her if it had got her.’

  ‘What happened after that?’ asked Alice. ‘Did she say anything before she left?’

  Tyler told of how they had teased her before she stomped off down the beach screaming for them to get lost.

  ‘So she was angry?’ Hine and Tyler nodded. ‘Then maybe she’s still angry and not ready to come back.’ Everybody agreed that was a reasonable possibility.

  ‘Right,’ said Bill. ‘Then we wait until nine o’clock. If she’s not back then, I’ll give Jonno a call, and he can let Search and Rescue know.’

  ‘In the meantime,’ said Molly standing, ‘I suggest you all have a shower and then we’ll have dinner. It always helps to feel clean and have a full belly. Then we’ll be better able to cope with whatever happens later.’

  Dinner was a dismal affair with everyone thinking about what might have happened, yet not willing to share their thoughts. It was with relief that Tyler escaped to the dorm to play a game.

  Yet even that didn’t work. His mind kept straying back to the events of the day. He couldn’t stop thinking that he was the cause of all the trouble. If things went wrong, they were sure to blame him. He was the one who had issued the dare and then made it impossible for the others. He’d got too involved in the stupid game. Now, if Mandy was injured or worse, the trip would be called off and he would be sent home in disgrace. He doubted he’d even get the chance to visit the cave again.

  Then he started to think about Mandy and where she might be. Slowly he realised that all his concerns had been about himself. His only thought about Mandy was how annoying it was for her to go missing. Now, as he thought about it, he was surprised to find that he cared whether she was injured or not. She might be a pain, but she was a pain with attitude. If one of his Game Boy characters was like her he would have enjoyed playing the game. She had all the tricks of a great character and was just as brave.

  So how come he would have liked her in a game but couldn’t stand her in real life? He pushed the thought from his mind—that was something best not to think about. Instead he picked up his Game Boy and tried once again to destroy the zombies guarding the elephants’ graveyard in the lava tunnels of Mt Kilimanjaro.

  He was finally having some success when happy shouting from the lounge disturbed him. He put the Game Boy down and rushed through to the other
room.

  There was Mandy, being hugged by Molly and Alice at the same time. She looked only slightly less dirty than earlier. Hine looked pleased that she was back and was the next to hug her, though she did screw up her nose a little.

  Tyler felt a surge of relief and wondered if he should hug her too. Fortunately he was not offered the chance. Mandy was almost carried to the chair in front of the fire while Molly ran off for a hot drink. It seemed that Mandy had a sore leg or something.

  The story came out over the next few minutes. She had washed herself in the creek and then climbed the cliffs, wanting to spend some time by herself. ‘I walked along the hill for a while until I had calmed down. Then when I tried to come down I twisted my ankle. It was so painful I couldn’t walk on it.’

  ‘Didn’t you hear us calling?’ asked Bill.

  ‘Yes, and I answered lots of times. But you didn’t seem to hear.’ She paused for a while trying to control her emotions. ‘It was horrible. I kept thinking that you might never find me.’

  ‘How did you get back then?’

  ‘The swelling went down and even though it hurt so much, I knew I had to get back. Anything could happen to me out there. So I just forced myself.’

  ‘Let’s have a look at it,’ said Molly.

  Mandy rolled up the leg to her pants with only a couple of squeals of pain. The exposed ankle may have been a little swollen but it was not all that obvious.

  ‘I think the best thing is a shower first and then an ice pack,’ said Molly. ‘We’ll do it at the house. I’ll go get it ready. Alice, could you fix some supper for us all? And Bill, get in a bit more firewood, please.’

  Soon the three youngsters were left to themselves. Tyler wanted to say something kind to Mandy, yet couldn’t find the right words. Then he noticed her face: she was smirking. ‘What is it?’ he asked.