‘You will fit in, you will see.’
Another thought struck Isla. ‘But what if settler folk see us? Will they no’ think ye’ve kidnapped us?’
Mere gave a casual shrug. ‘They can think what they like. You do not have any other family in the area?’
‘No, it wis just Mam and Da and us.’ Isla felt her bottom lip tremble at the immense and lonely truth of the fact, and struggled not to cry.
‘Are there not friends who will come looking for you?’
‘No’ really,’ Isla said truthfully.
‘Then you will have family here.’
They came then to the village, a cleared area in the bush dotted with huts and houses of various sizes and surrounded by a solid fence of manuka poles. Outside the fence stood a few lonely little huts, and a patch of ground randomly studded with unpainted wooden crosses. The village’s main gate was bordered by a pair of tall wooden posts carved with what seemed to Isla to be a hierarchy of figures with strange, distorted bodies and exceedingly ugly countenances. An ornately carved lintel joined the two posts, reaching a high point in the middle where another ferocious-looking creature perched.
Beyond the gate waited a crowd of intimidating proportions. Isla felt Mere’s gentle hand on her shoulder, and reluctantly beganto walk through the gate towards the courtyard in front of the largest of the houses, Niel on her left and the twins, tightly holding hands, on her right. She glanced nervously at Mere, who nodded at her encouragingly to continue.
Suddenly, the crowd parted to reveal a man wearing only a very brief skirt, apparently made of reeds. His hair was tied up in a topknot and the sweat on his dark skin accentuated the lines of the tattoos on his face, thighs and, shockingly, his naked buttocks, glimpsed when his skirt swayed. He carried a long, intricately carved staff, sharpened at one end and flattened like a narrow paddle at the other, which he brandished with alarming rapidity and strength, the weapon making an unnerving sound as it cut through the heat-laden air.
Jean gave a small, stifled squeal. Isla stopped dead as he approached, feeling a surge of panic engulf her. Had it all been a trick? Were they to perish here after all? She reached for Niel’s hand, and drew Jean and Jamie closer.
The man darted and pranced, the reeds of his skirt rattling as he whirled his staff, hissed and pulled the most alarming faces. Watching intently, the crowd didn’t move, not even when he took a sprig of leaves from his waistband and tossed it onto the ground at Niel’s feet.
Behind them, Mere calmly instructed, ‘Pick it up, Niel.’
Niel hesitated, then bent to retrieve the sprig, and watched with obvious relief as the man danced backwards and melted into the crowd.
Then came an eerie, reedy wailing and an ancient womanshuffled forward, uttering something that was between a song and a chant. As her call tapered away, Isla’s heart missed a beat as, directly behind her, Mere responded in kind. As Jamie’s whimpers of fear became very audible, Isla slipped her free arm around his shoulders and pressed him against her skirts until, once again, she felt Mere’s hand urging her forward.
The bulk of the crowd then launched into an energetic sort of dance, stamping their feet and fluttering their hands in unison. Some of the women held bunches of leaves, which they shook and swished about. All of this was accompanied by a loud and very boisterous chant, and, when several rows of staff-wielding men moved to the front and proceeded to shout and leap about, Jamie and Jean burst into frightened tears. At Isla’s side Niel’s face was white, and his grip on her hand was so tight that it hurt.
After the dance had come to an end, Mere said to Isla, ‘Do you have a dance or a song that you would care to perform?’
Isla looked at her blankly, deeply alarmed by the preceding performance and bewildered by the question. ‘Here? Now?’
‘Ae. It is part of the powhiri. First comes
Another thought struck Isla. ‘But what if settler folk see us? Will they no’ think ye’ve kidnapped us?’
Mere gave a casual shrug. ‘They can think what they like. You do not have any other family in the area?’
‘No, it wis just Mam and Da and us.’ Isla felt her bottom lip tremble at the immense and lonely truth of the fact, and struggled not to cry.
‘Are there not friends who will come looking for you?’
‘No’ really,’ Isla said truthfully.
‘Then you will have family here.’
They came then to the village, a cleared area in the bush dotted with huts and houses of various sizes and surrounded by a solid fence of manuka poles. Outside the fence stood a few lonely little huts, and a patch of ground randomly studded with unpainted wooden crosses. The village’s main gate was bordered by a pair of tall wooden posts carved with what seemed to Isla to be a hierarchy of figures with strange, distorted bodies and exceedingly ugly countenances. An ornately carved lintel joined the two posts, reaching a high point in the middle where another ferocious-looking creature perched.
Beyond the gate waited a crowd of intimidating proportions. Isla felt Mere’s gentle hand on her shoulder, and reluctantly beganto walk through the gate towards the courtyard in front of the largest of the houses, Niel on her left and the twins, tightly holding hands, on her right. She glanced nervously at Mere, who nodded at her encouragingly to continue.
Suddenly, the crowd parted to reveal a man wearing only a very brief skirt, apparently made of reeds. His hair was tied up in a topknot and the sweat on his dark skin accentuated the lines of the tattoos on his face, thighs and, shockingly, his naked buttocks, glimpsed when his skirt swayed. He carried a long, intricately carved staff, sharpened at one end and flattened like a narrow paddle at the other, which he brandished with alarming rapidity and strength, the weapon making an unnerving sound as it cut through the heat-laden air.
Jean gave a small, stifled squeal. Isla stopped dead as he approached, feeling a surge of panic engulf her. Had it all been a trick? Were they to perish here after all? She reached for Niel’s hand, and drew Jean and Jamie closer.
The man darted and pranced, the reeds of his skirt rattling as he whirled his staff, hissed and pulled the most alarming faces. Watching intently, the crowd didn’t move, not even when he took a sprig of leaves from his waistband and tossed it onto the ground at Niel’s feet.
Behind them, Mere calmly instructed, ‘Pick it up, Niel.’
Niel hesitated, then bent to retrieve the sprig, and watched with obvious relief as the man danced backwards and melted into the crowd.
Then came an eerie, reedy wailing and an ancient womanshuffled forward, uttering something that was between a song and a chant. As her call tapered away, Isla’s heart missed a beat as, directly behind her, Mere responded in kind. As Jamie’s whimpers of fear became very audible, Isla slipped her free arm around his shoulders and pressed him against her skirts until, once again, she felt Mere’s hand urging her forward.
The bulk of the crowd then launched into an energetic sort of dance, stamping their feet and fluttering their hands in unison. Some of the women held bunches of leaves, which they shook and swished about. All of this was accompanied by a loud and very boisterous chant, and, when several rows of staff-wielding men moved to the front and proceeded to shout and leap about, Jamie and Jean burst into frightened tears. At Isla’s side Niel’s face was white, and his grip on her hand was so tight that it hurt.
After the dance had come to an end, Mere said to Isla, ‘Do you have a dance or a song that you would care to perform?’
Isla looked at her blankly, deeply alarmed by the preceding performance and bewildered by the question. ‘Here? Now?’
‘Ae. It is part of the powhiri. First comes
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