Witi Ihimaera - Sky Dancer

The landbirds settled down. The robins began to sing a beautiful waiata of comfort. As the strains drifted across the lake, others joined in. With hope and faith restored, the song grew fierce with passion. Seizing the moment, Te Arikinui Kotuku, eyes blazing and feet stamping, began a women’s haka. Her strength and conviction reminded Skylark of Hoki. Things of value must always be fought for . “Ka whawhai tonu atu, ake, ake ake! We shall fight on forever and ever!”

Skylark was so stirred, she didn’t notice that Te Arikinui Huia had come up to her side. “Tell me, Skylark, you who come from beyond a thousand birdsong mornings, do great things happen to the landbirds?”

A deep pang of sadness came over Skylark. How could she tell Huia that by the year 2003 AD at least fifty of more than 100 native birds species would have disappeared? That the huia clan itself would become extinct and that the only place you could see a huia was as a stuffed bird in a museum? How could she tell Huia that the noble moa, New Zealand eagle, laughing owl, Eyles’ harrier, bush wren, New Zealand crow, Chatham Island fernbird and New Zealand coot would also become extinct? That at the very last moment the black robin, stitchbird, saddleback, takahe and kakapo would be brought back from the brink to live their lives on protected sanctuary islands?

Skylark decided to answer the question like Hoki and take the long way round.

“Great things do happen for the landbirds,” she said. “For a time, you become the rulers of the Great Forest of Tane and your progeny is as numerous as there are stars in the sky.”

“For a time?” Te Arikinui Karuwai of robins asked.

“Yes,” Skylark nodded, “until the coming of the Lord Tane’s next great creation — man. He is born far beyond the horizon and his seed spreads far and wide across the world. It is one of these seeds — that sown at Raiatea in French Polynesia — which spawns the race who eventually come by many canoes down to these southern islands at the bottom of the world. It is a bird, the long-tailed cuckoo who, during regular migratory flights from east of Fiji, leads man here. With man the birds create a partnership.”

Skylark turned to Huia. “For instance you, Te Arikinui Huia, are elevated to high status by the First Man. They call you the bird of Whaitiri. Because of your beauty, they honour you as a bird of the gods.”

“My beauty?” Huia asked. “You flatterer you.”

“Not only that, but because you have twelve tail feathers you are revered as a sacred bird. Twelve is a sacred number and you are regarded as looking after the twelve appearances of the moon every year. Your feathers are therefore much desired because they give prestige and power to the owner. They are used as barter and passed from tribe to tribe. Land, women, greenstone could be exchanged for one such feather. However, with the arrival of the Second Man, all things change —”

That was the beginning of the end of the time of the birds. This second man cut down the native forest, logging it and farming the land. He sprayed chemicals across the trees and killed off native species — birds, mammals, flora as well as fauna. He brought with him his companions — mice, rats, wild cats, dogs, stoats, ferrets, weasels, hedgehogs, possums, deer, goats and the marauding honeybee, which competed with the birds for food. When that food diminished, man’s companions turned to the eggs, chicks or the adult birds of the Great Forest. Slowly but inevitably the bird species diminished. Picked off one by one by man himself. By gun. By car. Often for the fun of it.

Man, the toxic being.

“And will this thing, this man, look like the ghost that appeared to burn down the sacred tree?” Huia asked.

Skylark drew a human in the dirt.

“What? No wings?” Huia laughed. “Where are its beak and claws? How could the Lord Tane think of creating such an ugly creature!”

“You and your stories, Skylark,” Karuwai scoffed. “They are cautionary tales of the kind mother hens tell their chicks.”

Kotuku saw the sad look on Skylark’s face. She caught the intimations of mortality contained in her words. She turned to Huia and scolded her. “You ask such difficult questions, Huia. Like all things, the fortunes even of manu whenua wax and wane. We may rejoice today but what about tomorrow? All depends on the will of the Lord Tane.”

The mood was interrupted by Chieftain Ruru who, giving the alarm, pointed to the trees. Darkness was cutting a line across their tops. “The sun is going out,” he said.

“It is a solar eclipse,” Huia gasped.

“The Lord Tane himself comes to punish us,” Titi cried.

“No,” Skylark answered. “The seabirds are coming.” She turned to Ruru. “Quick, get your warriors to take up their positions.”

Before she could draw another breath, Skylark saw the forest shivering. It exploded as manu whenua in retreat came flying through the trees and across the lagoon.

“The seabird army is not far behind us,” they cried. Some were limping. Others were ferrying back the wounded and the dead. The air was whirring and chittering as the retreating landbird army landed and reinforced the defensive positions all around the lagoon.

Oh my God, Skylark thought. It’s all up to me now.

She went through her checklist again: Angle of trajectory, check. Shotgun’s loaded, check. Barrel closed, check. Owl warriors in place, ready to pull the trigger, check. Then she remembered:

“Chieftain Ruru,” she yelled, her eyes wide with fright, “we have to cock the shotgun, otherwise it won’t fire —”

“How do you do that? Oh me oh my, what a cock-up.”

Skylark knew the fault was hers, not Ruru’s. “No offence, Chieftain Ruru,” she said, “but it would be really nice to have birds around you who understood what you wanted.”

Quickly she flew up to the shotgun. “I need another rope up here,” she said. Immediately three stocky owl warriors lifted a rope to her. She took it in her beak, but nervousness was getting to her and she couldn’t lever it over the two cocking levers. “Sometimes it is so inconvenient not to have fingers and thumbs,” she wailed.

With a roar like a hurricane, the battle between the opposing armies smashed through the trees. The wind of a thousand beating wings began to stir the surface of the lake, lashing it into fury.

“Done,” Skylark said as she finally slipped the rope into place. “Now pull!”

At her command, the owl warriors heaved at the rope. “Hii haa! Hii haa!”

Skylark took a quick look across the lagoon. Was that the war council in retreat? Yes: Chieftains Kuku, Kaka, Kea and Piwakawaka. Oh, where was Arnie?

Then she saw him.

“Arnie!” she screamed.

He was fighting a rearguard action. His opponent was Kawanatanga — and Kawanatanga was winning.

“Quickly now,” Skylark urged the owl warriors. Her heart was pumping with fright.

“Hii haa! Hii! Haa!”

It seemed to take years before the cocking lever double-clicked into place.

“Now back to your positions!” Skylark yelled.

The owl warriors scrambled over each other to return to the ropes that would pull the trigger.

Meanwhile, Kawanatanga was closing on Arnie. “I was told in that other world we come from, that in this world I would meet my nemesis,” he laughed. “I never thought you would be such a weakling. Prepare to die —”

Kawanatanga slashed with his claws. At the last moment, Arnie spun out of the way, folded his wings and dropped to the lagoon. As he did so he yelled at Chieftain Kahu, Chieftain Kawau and Chieftain Tui. “Disengage with the enemy.” He wanted to leave Skylark with a clear shot at Kawanatanga, the black bastard.

“Now, Skylark. Now.”