Witi Ihimaera - Uncle's Story

‘We can’t wait here. We’ve got to try to turn them before they reach this T-junction.’ He turned to Cliff: ‘Stay here.’

Sam and Bully were off, advancing on the approaching herd, swinging their bullwhips and making the air sing with the lash.

With a shrill whinny the black mustang reared, its hooves flashing. Sam pulled Czar away just in time — but Czar was from wild horse stock himself and turned back to face the black mustang. The two horses began fighting, bawling their rage at each other.

‘Get back!’ Sam yelled. ‘Get back, you black bastard!’

The mustang herd milled around the two fighting horses in confusion. Next moment Sam was able to crack the black mustang across the shoulders with his bullwhip — and it turned from its attack and leapt into the river. The herd followed, and Bully whooped in elation.

‘We’ve done it!’

But the black mustang saw Jake and Jimbo on the other side. Bully’s cry of triumph turned to a groan when it turned away from the shore and set its course midstream, swimming strongly through the block.

‘What the hell,’ Arapeta reigned in beside Sam. ‘You haven’t done your job, son. Dammit, it’ll take us hours to get the herd back here again.’

‘I did my best, Dad,’ Sam answered.

‘Well it wasn’t good enough.’

That’s when Bully gave a laugh, interrupting the argument.

‘Hey, Sam, who’s your mate?’

Sam’s heart stopped. Cliff had taken to the water on Honcho, arrowing into mid-stream. He was trying to head off the black mustang.

‘Crazy Yankee son of a bitch —’

Kicking his horse into action, Sam galloped back along the river.

‘Give it up, Cliff,’ he shouted. ‘Let them go.’

But Cliff was yelling at the black mustang, whistling and waving his hands. Then the mustang was on top of Honcho, biting, slashing, fighting. Whether by luck or by accident, Honcho managed to get his forefeet on the mustang’s back. Half out of the air, Cliff teetered and fell.

Immediately, Sam urged Czar into the river.

‘Hang on, Cliff! Hang on —’

He saw that Jake and Jimbo had also swum their horses out to help. The black mustang saw them and turned. Made for the shore. Ascended onto the sandspit. For one suspenseful moment, the mustang halted. Sniffed the air. Shook itself dry of the water. Then it turned down the tributary — and the rest of the herd followed.

‘Well, if that doesn’t beat everything,’ Arapeta laughed.

He reined up beside Sam as he pulled Cliff out of the water. He looked down at Cliff and put out his hand. Cliff’s eyes looked straight into his.

‘Kia ora, Pakeha. So you’re Sam’s friend. Welcome —’

A firm handshake. A puzzled look on Arapeta’s face.

‘This boy is without fear,’ Arapeta thought. ‘I do not intimidate him.’

Cliff’s eyes blazed in the sun and Arapeta, blinded, put up an arm as if to protect himself. He turned to the other horsemen and jerked his head after the herd:

‘Let’s get after them, boys.’

It took another two hours before the herd was coralled. Patty and Monty came down to the yards to watch the wranglers at their work. Patty’s gaze kept shifting between Sam and Cliff Harper. Love for her brother kept bursting inside her as, following Arapeta’s directions, Sam separated the herd, the older horses from the younger colts. Sam’s work was so fluid. A slight pressure on Czar’s flank, and Czar would neatly sidestep between two mustangs. With a quick flick of the reins, Sam would make another separation. It was so beautiful to watch, and the wranglers, standing against the rails, murmured their approval.

‘Nice work, Sam. Watch the piebald! Watch the black. Get in between there, Sam! Good —’

By the time the work was over, the day was cooling and the sun was going down.

‘Hot work,’ Sam said. ‘Time to cool off and get rid of the dust, eh, boys?’ He turned to Cliff. His hair and skin were brown with dust. ‘How about it, Yank? Feel like getting wet again?’

‘I’d better,’ Cliff answered. ‘Somewhere there’s a white boy under all this.’

The men laughed, and Sam was pleased at how quickly Cliff had been accepted by them. He saw Patty staring with hooded eyes at Cliff.

‘What’s up with her?’ he wondered. Then Dad interrupted his thoughts.

‘You boys go down to the river,’ Arapeta said. ‘A shower will do me.’

He walked up the steps, past Florence on the verandah and into the house. Quickly, Patty seized the opportunity.

‘Can me and Monty go for a swim too?’ she asked Florence.

‘Sure,’ Sam intervened. ‘There’s bound to be some of the girls swimming further upstream.’

‘Yeah,’ Monty said. ‘Patty can go up with the girls and I can stay downstream with the men.’

With a laugh Cliff picked up Monty.

‘So you’re a man, right?’

‘Dinner will be at nine,’ Florence said.

The men started to scramble for their trucks. Cliff, with Monty on his shoulders, followed Sam to the car.

‘Do you have something for me to swim in? Don’t we need towels?’

‘You won’t need either,’ Sam said.

‘So I do what the natives do, is that it?’

‘Yes,’ Sam answered.

Ten minutes later, Sam parked the car on a small bluff overlooking the swimming hole on the Waipaoa River.

‘Popular place,’ Cliff said when he saw other cars and trucks parked along the roadside.

‘They must have known you were coming,’ Sam answered dryly.

He led Cliff along a dirt track through willows where it forked, one track going upstream and one going downstream. From there they could hear the giggles of women bathing upstream.

‘Good bye Patty,’ Cliff said gently.

With a flounce, Patty was running through the dappled sunlight. Meantime, Monty was off running in the opposite direction with Sam in hot pursuit. Cliff trailed. Even as they were running Sam and Monty were throwing off their clothes so that by the time they arrived at the bluff they were both completely naked. Then both of them jumped —

Cliff reached the jumping point just in time to see Sam and Monty let go of the ropes that were dangling from the branches of the overhanging willows.

‘Bombs away!’ Monty said.

Below, Jake, Jimbo, Bully and other men were trying to swim out of the way. Next minute, the water erupted as Sam and Monty belly-flopped into it. Sam swam to the surface, spouting the water from his mouth. The sun-stars rippled around him. He waved Cliff to come and join them.

‘Come on, Cliff. Come and get wet!’

Cliff shrugged his shoulders, took off his clothes, disappeared down the track to make his run for the rope and, next moment, was a shape blurring through the sky.

‘Yee- haa !’ Cliff leapt for a rope, swinging back and forth as if afraid to let go, and everybody started to laugh and —

‘Oh shit,’ Sam yelled, remembering. ‘He can’t swim!’

Sam watched Cliff plummet down into the water. With quick strokes he made his way to the middle of the swimming hole and dived . All around him other men were diving. Beneath the surface Sam saw a trail of bubbles and felt the pulse of disturbed water. He saw an underwater world of sunken logs and then a flash of sunlight against something spectral white in the luminous green of the river.

Cliff, sitting there, at the bottom of the river.

Hello. Fancy meeting you here.

Cliff’s hair was flowing around his face. The sunlight rippled across his body, dappling it with extraordinary sensuality. Sam signed to him.

What are you doing, you stupid Yank?

Cliff shrugged his shoulders.

Waiting for you. I think this is called drowning.