Battle of the Birds

by Lee Murray

  But Moana shakes her head. ‘I don’t think so. I’ve had some time to think about it since, and I wonder if their goal was to slow us down. We weren’t that far from the ground when Toka pierced the balloon.’

  ‘Well, it felt like a long way!’ Kahurangi exclaims.

  ‘But it can’t have been that far, or none of us would have survived the fall. And then, after that first tumble, we didn’t have any trouble with them. They just left us alone. The same way the guards left Kakama and me on that awful volcanic island.’

  Ahuru speaks up. ‘So, we’ve established that the predators are congregating.’

  ‘But why assemble? And why now?’ Rowi asks. ‘Aren’t we doing what Te Hōkioi wants?’

  No-one answers.

  ‘Perhaps we should send out some scouts. Find out where they are congregating, and see if we can learn what they’re up to,’ Moa suggests.

  ‘I could go,’ Ken offers. ‘Te Hōkioi’s lot isn’t going to be suspicious of a single bird of prey following the crowd. I’ll roll in the dirt first to make myself look darker. If I keep my distance, they’ll think I’m one of them. I’ll see if I can learn anything.’

  The Council members nod their agreement. Ken’s plan makes sense. A lone predator should be able to slip unnoticed past Te Hōkioi’s henchmen.

  ‘What about the evacuation plans?’ Kahurangi asks.

  Moa says: ‘Chief Ahuru, Chief Deputy Principal and their people are doing all they can to help us. A great waka hollowed from kauri is carving its way down the Waikato River as we speak. When it reaches the sea, it’ll follow the coast to the southern tip of the island. It should carry many of our flightless across the channel.’

  ‘We’ve borrowed every waka or raft we have been able to get out hands on, but we had no idea of what we were taking on,’ says Chief Deputy Principal.

  ‘Rowi has been making a count,’ Fantasia cheeps. ‘So many flightless birds have joined us. There are thousands of birds needing transport.’

  ‘And there’s another problem…’ Ahuru avoids looking at Moa. ‘We’re…we’re…worried about…’

  Moa interrupts Annie’s translation.

  ‘I think what Ahuru is trying to say is he doubts the moa will be able to make the crossing.’

  ‘What? But why?’ Annie blurts. ‘You have to! You can’t stay here. You’ll all be killed!’

  ‘Annie,’ Ahuru says softly. ‘Our moa cousins are massive creatures, and there are hundreds of them. There isn’t time to ferry them across the channel one by one, but travelling in groups their bulk will make the waka unstable, putting everyone at risk…’

  Suddenly, there’s a scream.

  Boil and Bubble

  Te Hōkioi appears in the sky above the group. He is spectacular. The sun glints off his plumage, black startling against white, and wing tips the colour of deepest pounamu. His eyes glitter like jewels as he takes in the assembly. He says nothing. Completing a half-turn, Te Hōkioi searches the cluster below. Looking. Calculating.

  Nearby, a warrior raises his taiaha, its tip pointed at the raptor. Ahuru waves his hand impatiently. ‘Don’t!’ he says. ‘This isn’t the time for rash actions. Te Hōkioi is a still a member of the Council of Birds.’

  Obediently, the warrior drops his spear. As if waiting on this signal, Te Hōkioi lets out a chilling caw. Then, he dives.

  Grabs Ahuru by his cloak, jerks him upwards, dangling the chief idly.

  Instantly, Ken is in the air, making for Te Hōkioi.

  Rapidly, Te Hōkioi climbs. He suspends the chief over the pool. His intent is clear.

  He will drop Ahuru into the boiling water.

  ‘Wait!!’ Moana’s scream turns Annie’s blood cold.

  The predator hovers a moment.

  Staring.

  Daring Ken to come.

  Te Hōkioi swings Ahuru.

  Ken hesitates.

  Te Hōkioi gives a slow rapturous smile. A victorious smile.

  Then, he opens his talons — and lets the chief drop.

  ‘Noooo!!’

  Annie holds her breath.

  Ken plunges.

  Ken swoops, throws his legs forward; opens his talons.

  Clutches desperately for the chief.

  Misses.

  Eyes wide, Ahuru falls into the scalding pool, his last words lost.

  Chaos erupts.

  Caught unawares, Chief Deputy Principal and his warriors have been standing flat-footed watching the drama, their mouths agape. Now they scurry to organise themselves, scrambling for weapons as the Chief Deputy Principal shouts orders. Kahurangi hesitates only briefly before seizing Ahuru’s taiaha that had fallen to the ground. Women scatter, rounding up small children, many of whom are wide-eyed and crying.

  Laughing, Te Hōkioi climbs higher and higher, disappearing over the trees.

  Into the embrace of his advancing army.

  Annie looks up in horror. Hundreds and hundreds of predators fly over the clearing, their wings blocking out the light. The sounds of their wing-beats pounds in her ears, pulsing like a subwoofer at a disco. But this is no party. Acid wells up in Annie’s throat. Toa was right all along: Te Hōkioi is not honourable.

  The predators begin their attack, diving and striking the flightless birds with polished precision. Chief Deputy Principal’s warriors respond, lancing their taiaha with deadly accuracy. Others throw stones and rocks, but the birds of Te Hōkioi’s army are swift and agile. A squadron of falcons pounce on the warriors, attacking at eyes, fingers and feet; snatching away the spears. Ken rushes to Kahurangi’s aid, as the boy fends off a determined assault.

  Annie feels her fury swell. This is no random skirmish. Te Hōkioi’s army is highly organised. He’s been preparing this battle for some time.

  Moana is paralysed. Her face is white and stricken. Annie clasps her friend by the hand; shakes her. ‘Moana, quickly! We have to find Kuia. We have to tell her what’s happened.’

  Dazed, Moana looks slowly at Annie. She comes swiftly back to reality: they’re in the middle of a battle!

  ‘Annie! There’ll be other casualties! We have to find Kuia. She’ll need help!’

  ‘This way!’ Crouching low, the girls make a dash for the hut where they last saw Moana’s grandmother.

  Suddenly, one of Te Hōkioi’s brothers breaks away from his cohorts. He plummets, seeking out a likely victim. Annie and Moana scramble for refuge behind the boulder that Kahurangi had been boasting on earlier. Was it only an hour ago? The raptor swoops by, other prey in mind.

  Annie holds her breath when she recognises the raptor’s target.

  It’s Barty! The little kiwi has broken cover. He’s attempting to herd a clutch of tiny kiwi chicks from under the feet of the embattled moa. Scuttling behind the chicks, intent on his task, he’s unaware of the peril above him. Annie shouts a warning, but even before the words have left her lips, she knows it’s hopeless. There’s too much noise.

  Then, out of the confusion, Toa appears. Annie’s heart lifts at the sight of the warrior. And to think he used to scare her! In one hand Toa clutches his taiaha, while the other curls Kakama to his hip. His sharp warrior eyes scan the scene, quickly recognising the threat to the little kiwi. Not taking his eyes from the predator, he thrusts Kakama at Moana. He raises his spear. Throws. The cloaked predator caws loudly as the spear finds its object: the bird’s heart. The bird’s rasping shriek is interrupted, as the predator falls in an ugly thud of blood and gristle. Narrowly missed, Barty shudders, then turns and quickly ushers his flock of fluffy chicks away.

  Miriama runs to collect the spear from where it is embedded deep in the bird’s flesh. Spears are few and they will need every one before the day’s end. She wipes the weapon clean on her skirt before returning it shyly to Toa.

  Toa takes the spear from Miriama. Annie notices their fingers touch. Toa looks up quickly, his gaze plunging into Miriama’s liquid brown eyes. Grumpy Toa is grinning, the smile reaching his eyes! Around them the battle rages.
All that’s missing is the stirring romantic music. Annie wants to scream. This is not the time for a tender soft-focus scene. There’s a battle on! Luckily, Toa is the first to regain his wits. With a final fond look at Miriama, he turns on his heel and strides into the mêlée.

  Annie and Moana grab Kakama — and run.

  Circle of Fire

  When they find Kuia, the news of Ahuru’s death has already reached her. If she’s devastated, Kuia doesn’t show it. Instead, practical Kuia is cleaning cuts and bandaging wounds, her lips a thin line. She sends someone to find Kakama’s mother, then immediately puts the girls to work: Annie playing ambulance, and Moana as a paramedic.

  Annie carries injured birds to Kuia, and first aid equipment onto the battlefield. As the fighting continues, she hands out cold water to the warriors battling in the thunder-laden afternoon heat.

  On one trip to carry water, Annie catches sight of Moa. The magnificent bird is in the thick of the battle, bellowing loudly as he repels an eagle. Throughout the attack, the moa have fought valiantly. Their extra height has allowed them to protect the smaller birds from the predators’ assault. Using their hooked toes, powerful kick and even their rasping beaks, the moa have inflicted grave damage, but not without losses. Annie is shocked to see moa bodies scattered across the ground, like huge piles of autumn leaves. She rushes forward to bring Moa a drink. His thirst slaked, Moa barges back into the fighting.

  On the return trip, Annie spies a beautiful huia pierced by a single stab to her heart. The huia falters, barely flutters, to the ground. Moana has seen her, too. She dashes over with her poultice and bandages, but the huia is dead. Her neck flops uselessly to one side. Moana lifts her gently and carries her from the battlefield.

  For hours, wave after wave of predators come, attacking mercilessly. At one point, Annie gazes upwards, hopeful for a break in the assault, but another squadron of birds is arriving, this time from the north. Annie quivers. How can they possibly survive another onslaught? But this new wave of birds does not descend like the others. Instead, it flies headlong into the oncoming predators.

  ‘It’s Mergus!’

  Annie laughs with relief. The sound is close to hysterical. Mergus’ timing is impeccable. He’s leading a mammoth flock of flying birds, mostly swamp and marsh fowl, but all friends. Ducks and geese, pūkeko and marine terns; all converge on the battle. Many specialise in long distance formation flying. They’re accustomed to working together. Annie watches as a kea succumbs to a pair of ducks. The sturdy ducks seize the parrot by its wings, overloading it with their extra bodyweight, forcing it downwards into the lake, where it drowns. Unharmed, the ducks fly off to repeat the tactic elsewhere. In the air above Annie, swarms of courageous terns surround a gang of falcons, pecking at them viciously from all directions. Feathers fly. The beleaguered falcons either fall or flee.

  A cheer goes up.

  Mergus takes a second to swoop down and salutes his friend.

  ‘Annie! Hello! Sorry we’re a wee bit late.’ Mergus is making jokes. ‘Love to catch up, but I’ve got to get back and get my ducks in a row!’

  Annie allows herself to feel hopeful. With help from Mergus’ battalion, Moa’s army may have the upper hand. Te Hōkioi no longer has the advantage of surprise, and Moa’s supporters now have greater numbers. Many of the predators look like they are leaving the battlefield on the run. Annie feels like skipping. It could soon all be over. But then the worst happens.

  Someone screams. ‘Fire!’

  Shocked, Annie watches as flaming flocks of kea and hawks descend on the battle. The predators weren’t running away at all. They were simply re-arming themselves. And with the most fearsome of weapons. Now each of the birds of prey carries a blazing torch. Annie is disgusted. It’s not a fair fight. The flightless are helpless against fire. Without wings, all they can do is run. Screeching and laughing, the predators drop their murderous torches, setting the scrub alight. It’s high summer, so the ground is as dry as Weetbix without milk. In seconds, small fires rage all over the campsite.

  Almost hoarse, Chief Deputy Principal shouts new orders. The warriors break off the fighting. They beat at the fires with ponga leaves.

  Her gourd empty, Annie drops to her knees. She scoops sand over a fallen torch, smothering it. Another torch falls alongside her in a shower of sparks, the branch smattered with hot lava. In a flash Annie recognises Te Hōkioi’s cunning. He has used Mount Tongariro, dipping branches into the volcano to create fiery torches! Before Annie has time to jump to safety, a horny, three-toed foot stomps soundly on the burning wood, stifling the flame. The Bigfoot is Moa! Annie throws him a look of gratitude, but the giant is

  already moving away, stomping and stamping as he goes.

  A stray pūkeko chick bumps into Annie’s feet. Quickly, she stoops to pick it up. Under her fingers, the chick’s heart flutters frantically. Annie slips the chick inside her T-shirt, tucking the hem into her jeans. Her tiny charge wriggles desperately, calling for its mother. Annie chirps at it to keep still. She needs to get it to safety. But where?

  Pockets of fire grow and fuse together creating walls of fire and smoke. The crackle and snap of the flames fills Annie with dread. Those that can’t fly are helpless. Luckily, Mergus’ cohort is picking up some of the smaller birds, spiriting them away. Still hundreds remain. Panicked, birds and people run in all directions. Annie’s eyes water. She can hardly breathe. Her skin prickles. Sweat rolls down her back. She crouches low, looking for an escape.

  ‘Fall back!’ Moa trumpets, his voice booming through the burning trees.

  Bent low, her lungs searing, Annie sprints. It’s a stampede. Where are her friends, Ken, Kahurangi, Kuia and Moana? The wall of fire is on three sides now. They’re forced to run back towards the lake. Fire licks at their heels. Along the lake edge, Annie registers the burning hulls. There’s no time to save the waka.

  ‘Retreat!’ Moa bellows.

  Then, at last, the sky keeps its promise. With a rumble of thunder, the rain begins to fall.

  Water

  Trapped.

  From Tokaanu Bay, with the lake at their backs, Moa’s army has no choice but to take refuge on the spit that juts into the southern end of the Great Lake. The swampy terrain and heavy rains have prevented the fire from pursuing them, but now thousands of birds and humans are crowded onto the narrow spit. Te Hōkioi’s followers stand guard at the entrance of the spit, ready to attack. It’s a siege.

  For the last two hours Annie has searched the soggy peninsula, asking for news of the pūkeko chick’s family. When at last she finds them, his anxious parents and six brothers and sisters are thrilled to see the little tyke. Annie’s pleased too; in his terror he’s bitten her twice on the bellybutton! Annie brushes off the pūkeko’s thanks and hurries away to rejoin her friends.

  In a makeshift headquarters, Chief Deputy Principal has assumed control.

  Chief Principal, now.

  Since Ahuru’s death, he ’s been a formidable commander, marching about shouting orders. His team of exhausted warriors reunite families, erect shelters and gather food. Chief Tama and the moa carry injured birds and warriors to where Kuia is treating burns and cuts. Moana’s father stops by to comfort Kuia, but it’s a short visit. There is too much to do.

  Annie isn’t feeling well. Her skin feels hot and she’s a bit feverish. She slips in to see Kuia, but Moana’s grandmother is busy splinting a warrior’s broken leg. Annie decides not to bother her. Although she’s feeling giddy, other people have more serious complaints.

  ‘Excuse me?’ says a badly singed island teal, who is waiting in line to be seen. He points to an empty gourd at his feet. ‘Would you mind getting me a drink? I wouldn’t ask, but everyone else is so busy, and I’m terribly thirsty. I could swallow a lake.’

  A drink! Carrying drinks to the warriors throughout the hot afternoon, Annie forgot to drink herself! No wonder she’s feeling woozy. She’s probably just dehydrated after the battle and the fire.

&n
bsp; ‘Good idea! I could do with a drink, too. Hang on, I’ll be right back,’ Annie replies, and, collecting an empty gourd, she sets off towards the lake.

  On the spit, order is eventually established. The refugees settle down for the night. Chief Deputy Principal sends a sharp-eyed wren to gather their allied Council members.

  ‘We’ll never make the treaty deadline, now,’ Rowi opens, with a grumble. ‘There are too many injured. Half the waka were incinerated, and those that are left are damaged.’

  ‘Treaty! What treaty? Te Hōkioi broke it!’ Kahurangi is angry. The fingers of his right hand curl tightly around Ahuru’s taiaha. With the other, he throws a pebble into the campfire. Sparks fly.

  ‘Te Hōkioi wants to destroy us,’ Moa says tonelessly.

  ‘We won’t let that happen,’ Fantasia chirps. Annie almost giggles. It’s not as if Moa can hide his huge bulk behind the tiny fantail. Even spread to its fullest width, Fantasia’s tail fan wouldn’t hide Moa’s toenail!

  ‘Well, what can we do? We’re trapped here, and most of us can’t fly,’ Rowi says.

  ‘My swamp birds can transport the chicks off the spit. We’ll go over the lake to avoid Te Hōkioi’s sentries. Create a nursery somewhere. At least, the babies will be safe.’

  ‘Perhaps Ruānuku and the elders in Taupō could help?’

  ‘Good idea, Rowi. We’ll take the chicks there.’

  ‘I’ll go and talk to the big turkey. It was sort of the plan before the fighting broke out anyway. Only this time, I’ll suggest a truce.’

  Annie looks up sharply. ‘Ken, you can’t. He’ll kill you.’ The image of Ahuru’s falling body and his startled expression flash in Annie’s mind. There’s been enough death already.

  ‘Look, Te Hōkioi asked me to join him once and I refused. I’ll tell him I’ve changed my mind. I’ll say I want to switch sides now I can see he’s going to win. I’m sure he’ll understand that. A timely change of allegiance is just the sort of underhand thing he’d do himself.’

  ‘But Ken…’

  ‘I’ll be fine Annie. He’ll be pleased to see me because I’ll act all humble and humiliated. But I’ll have strategic information he hasn’t considered. I’ll present myself to him as a valuable right hand man.’