Show Me a Huia!

by Chris Barfoot

  “So are you saying that they changed their mind and went into the Waitoa?”

  “I don’t know and I’m scared to think.”

  There was something which David could not fathom. He recalled that strange, brusque meeting with Stan. Stan had insisted on knowing more about Tane, was upset because he didn’t know where Tane had gone. Why? Was it just possible that he had sensed something about Tane’s expedition?

  “Why would they want to go into the Waitoa if they’d been told it was a sanctuary?” he said.

  She did not answer.

  “Surely Stan couldn’t be that fanatical about birds?”

  “You don’t understand at all!” There was a tremble in her voice which should have warned him but didn’t.

  “And if not huia, what else?”

  She turned away and burst into tears.

  If he were not so shy, he would have tried to comfort her. But he only found it embarrassing. He found himself edging away from her. He hated any show of emotion. This was one of the reasons he had always kept women at a distance. He felt the plane tickets in his pocket. He’d soon be out of it anyway and there would be no risk of any more involvement.

  Then she turned and was looking straight at him as if she read his action and the thought behind it. The moist eyes were blazing with anger. “Why are you sliding away? I think you’re hiding something. Why did your friend go into the huia valley?”

  “He was exploring,” he said defensively.

  “I don’t believe you. He did discover something, didn’t he? And that’s the reason you’ve suddenly decided to look for him after three years. You’re a geologist, aren’t you? And why did you go to Charles Hawthorne to ask for advice? I believe he’s filthy rich and acts for all the multinationals who are bleeding this country to death. He’s probably hatching up some plan to get mineral exploration licences in the sanctuary.”

  He was appalled. She was not only a very emotional woman but also a typical, irrational greenie. These people just couldn’t understand how vital overseas investment was to the growth of the economy. If you mentioned to them anything about development or multinationals, they could no longer see reason.

  He decided to put the record straight as far as his benefactor was concerned. “I’m only interested in finding Tane. I can’t go much further with the Waitoa because it’s a huia sanctuary. Sir Charles was interested enough in Tane to suggest a lead that’s quite promising. In fact, he has just arranged a trip to Australia so that I can investigate a report of Tane’s possible sighting in the Grey Range north of Broken Hill.”

  “And so you go along with everything that, er, gentleman tells you?”

  “Of course. He’s a Queen’s Counsel.”

  “Yes, that’s his job, to convince people.”

  David found himself getting angry. “He’s a very busy man but he’s given me hours of his time. He’s doing everything he can to help me find Tane. He also values the research I’m doing.”

  He immediately regretted these words. Quick as a flash she homed in. “What research?”

  “Mineral exploration,” he said cautiously.

  “Is he going to help you with that too?”

  He decided it would be unwise to mention Dr Magnusson. “He has good contacts.”

  “So you’re in partnership with him.” She put on her glasses and looked at him as if she was studying a rather repellent insect under a microscope. “How odd!”

  ***

  The rain had passed over the isthmus. Already, the Manukau Harbour sparkled in the sun, and the Waitakere Ranges stood outlined against the fresh, cloudless sky of a summer afternoon. Birds twittered in the olive groves below.

  As she walked back down the road, Kate didn’t know with whom she was more angry – herself or him.

  She had gone to One Tree Hill to think about the disturbing news from the search. She did not normally get into cars with strange men, but he had given her shelter from the rain and she was grateful to him. At first she had listened with interest to his story because she was sorry for him. But the alarming coincidences about his colleague together with his innuendos about Stan had just got too much.

  What a fool she had been to confide in a man who was so painfully unimaginative and self-centred! Look how insensitive he was to Eleanor, thinking only of his own problems. And then to give way to tears in front of him! Worse still she had done so before he revealed his true colours. She ought to have realised earlier when he couldn’t even get the Maori right – huia not huias. What else would you expect from geologists? Slimy people sneaking about with hammers and Geiger counters, agents of globalisation and lackeys of multinational mining companies who just wanted to tear the mountains apart.

  He was quite good looking, but he was pompous, he spoke as if he were near forty and acted like a professor. She wondered what his research topic really involved. It might have explained why he sucked up to big names and money. Worst of all, you just couldn’t tell what he was thinking. She suspected that the boyish face and innocent blue eyes covered up something particularly nasty that he was engaged in.

  Perhaps at the end she had been under strain and had given him too much of her mind. She hoped he would find his colleague but, because of his obsession with his career, she doubted whether he would continue very long.

  She didn’t expect she would ever meet “Sir Galahad” alias “the professor” again. This wouldn’t worry her. He was a long way from her expectation of what a man should be.

  Yet her own problem remained. The trouble with Kate was that she was impelled to ask questions but she wasn’t sure if she could cope with the answers.

  I wish I’d never heard about that broken leatherwood!

  David watched her as she strode away. She didn’t even turn as she reached the corner. He felt uneasy about the conversation and its abrupt ending. It had been a disaster, just like all his other encounters with women.

  Women were emotional time bombs. He just didn’t know how to handle them. And he had allowed himself to light the fuse by getting into an argument which didn’t go anywhere. It was the argument with Tane all over again. After their conversation it was unlikely that he would see her again, but, if he did, perhaps he should apologise.

  CHAPTER 14

  David had not looked for another occupant for Tane’s room. In fact in the last three years he had rarely entered it.

  Even as he stood there he felt like a trespasser. But he rationalised that the information he might find there could be useful, and he needed to do it before he left for Australia. After his talk with the bird girl there seemed to be the possibility Stan McTaggart had actually met up with Tane before his trip. What could have passed between them? What had really happened in the Waitoa? Was there a discovery? And if so, what?

  Nearly all of Tane’s research was embargoed . They each had their own filing cabinet, but Tane kept his locked.

  For a long time he contemplated it.

  “I have a similar cabinet – perhaps my key will work?”

  He hesitated again before he inserted the key.

  Inside lay a small folder. Eagerly he opened it. It was a short research paper on the geological implications of Maori spirituality, dated three and a half years before. He could not recall that Tane had ever published this – its contents were predictably controversial. It could have been a private paper. Attached to the paper was a copy of a proposal setting out procedures to be followed if a geological discovery were to be found on Maori-owned land. A note at the bottom of each paper indicated that both had been sent to Sir Charles Hawthorne.

  That in itself was not surprising. He sponsored so many research projects that he might have forgotten about this one of Tane’s.

  But what excited him was a third enclosure. This was a letter addressed to the senior kaumatua of the Whanau Apanui. The letter was dated January 14th three years before and two days after their falling out. It referred in general terms to the necessity for consultations in the case of
a geological discovery. At the bottom it said that a copy of the letter and a proposal had been sent to Dr Charles Hawthorne, Q.C. However, the proposal was missing. He examined Tane’s signature at the end.

  The letter was original.

  Was it ever sent?

  He put a call in to Te Kaha Post Office. The postmistress was friendly. “I think you want Eruera,” she said and gave him a number.

  “Yes, thank you,” the kaumatua said acknowledging David’s congratulations. “We have waited over sixty years. I am talking about it on TV tomorrow night.”

  “I am a geologist at Auckland University. Do you mind if I ask you an unusual question?”

  The voice sounded puzzled. “Geologist, did you say?”

  “I presume that you were the senior kaumatua three years ago.”

  “I was.”

  “May I test your memory? Do you recall receiving a letter from a colleague of mine, Dr Tane Ngata? It might have related to a possible geological discovery.

  There was a long silence at the other end. “Did you say Tane Ngata?”

  “Yes, he came from Te Kaha.”

  “Of course, I knew his grandmother. We have not heard from him for a long time, but are glad he has done well.” There was a pause. “It was sad about his brother – very unfortunate.”

  “Tane told me the story.”

  “He was not involved.”

  The tone was cool, and David got the impression that the subject was closed. “This letter could have been accompanied by one from Sir Charles Hawthorne.”

  The answer came warmly. “Of course, we know him well. He is an honorary kaumatua and our legal adviser.”

  “I don’t know what the discovery was or whether there was one at all. But the tribal territory of Te Whanau-a-Apanui was mentioned. And as Tane was sensitive to your feeling for the land, he would not have proceeded further without your approval.”

  “I do not recall a letter. However, if Sir Charles was involved, we would have asked his opinion.”

  “If you’d received a proposal for the development of a geological discovery, possibly involving mining, on your land, what would have been your reaction?”

  There was another long pause. “I do not understand you. It is a huia sanctuary and we are kaitiaki.”

  “Another question. Sir Charles moved in to Pataratara just under three years ago?”

  “We were very pleased to have him among us. He is very interested in our matauranga and he gave us our cultural centre.”

  “Have you visited his home at Pataratara?”

  “He is a very private man.”

  “Do your people fish in the area?”

  “No, not now. The Regional Council made the coast around there a marine reserve. Sir Charles thought it would be good for the area. He offered to look after it too.”

  “Did your people approve of this?”

  “Not at first, because it was a good place for kaimoana. But there have been some drownings around this coast and the rahui was often on the area.”

  “So you accepted the marine reserve?”

  “Yes, like the old proverb ‘te purapura pai’ – ‘out of bad things can come good’.”

  Though the kaumatua was courteous, David sensed an underlying suspicion. He knew he was at risk of offending the elder if he continued further. However, he pushed himself to ask one last question. “I gather Hone visited a valley and the elders disapproved of his action.”

  There was no reply.

  “Was that valley the Waitoa?”

  There was a click as the phone at the other end was hung up.

  Eruera remained sitting in his chair fingering his tokotoko.

  A geologist was he? But what was Tane Ngata really up to? Just like his brother. Testing the boundaries. Questioning the elders’ wisdom. Why did he want this information? There were certain things which were better left alone.

  He would have a korero with Sir Charles before he spoke to that man again.

  The Queen’s Counsel again received him warmly. David expressed his appreciation for the tickets.

  “No need to thank me,” and he inclined his head graciously.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been doing some research here on Tane before I leave for Australia.”

  “How interesting! But you gave me the impression yesterday that you had run out of leads in New Zealand.”

  “It’s just about the Maori spirituality side. I believe Tane wrote a paper on it and sent it to you.”

  “Did he indeed? I don’t remember. But I would certainly have been interested.”

  “If he’d made a discovery, it would have been important for him to consult the local Maori in the development of his discovery. Did he ever ask your advice about this?”

  This time there was a longer pause than usual, but the smile never left the cherubic face. “My dear boy, you would never get away with such suppositions in court. You are supposing that he discovered something, and you are also supposing that I was his adviser.” He looked up at the Waitoa map. “Let us deal in facts. The only discovery I know about is the huia.”

  “I believe he wrote a letter to the Whanau Apanui that was not sent.”

  He shook his head sadly. “David, more supposition. Did I hear the word ‘believe’?”

  “I’ve seen the letter, and I’ve asked the senior kaumatua if he received it.”

  The smile remained but the barrister seemed to grow in size and David sensed a tone in his voice which he had not heard before “Didn’t you tell me that Tane never let anyone know what he was doing? How did you get hold of that supposed letter?”

  The question hit home. He was too ashamed to say that he had rifled Tane’s private cabinet, and changed the subject. “I hear you have a marine reserve all around Pataratara.”

  “It’s like the huia. The community is very proud of it. I’ve supplied rangers and a patrol boat to keep out the poachers.”

  “I hope you don’t mind me asking questions,” he said lamely.

  “Not at all, but I would suggest you keep your suppositions to yourself. And may I offer another suggestion.” He wagged his finger as if he was addressing a witness whose evidence had been revealed as unreliable. “Would you kindly consult me before you talk to Eruera in the future.”

  The great barrister rose ponderously from his desk and smiled as he offered his hand. “But I do enjoy talking to you. And Dr Magnusson will be pleased to get your report in due course.”

  The conversation had been a total disaster. In a classic courtroom interchange, his suppositions had been courteously but totally demolished. Not only that but his future access to Whanau Apanui had been blocked.

  Only one choice. He fingered the tickets in his pocket.

  He took the long way home. It was not until dark that he approached his flat in Grafton. The first thing he aimed to do was to unlock the cabinet again and look carefully to see whether he had really seen that letter. But as he entered Tane’s room, he knew that something was different.

  The drawers of the desk had been pulled out and papers were strewn all over the floor. But worst of all, the locked cabinet had vanished and the empty place in the corner stared at him accusingly.

  All the papers he had examined had gone!

  CHAPTER 15

  David had never gone to great pains to make the flat burglar proof, so the intruders had had no trouble in prising open a window to get in. The only thing they couldn’t open they had taken away. If it was robbery, it was not one that he wanted to report to the police, because his own actions could also be suspected. Yet the coincidences were too strong to ignore. He had told only one person about the letter.

  Of course he had no proof, and he could not suffer any further demolition of his suppositions and the revelation of his burglary to boot.

  He chose a time when there were not many people in the staff cafeteria, glanced warily around the room and leaned forward as he spoke.

  His colleague in the School of L
aw seemed amused by his antics and made no attempt to lower his voice. “He’s a real sweetie.”

  “Does he have any special interest?” asked David.

  “International law. Riveting stuff on genocide in Africa just after independence. You should hear some of his stories.”

  “What stories?”

  “About the events which some call the rebellion and others the awakening and what happened to the white missionaries, teachers, farmers and anyone who happened to be working for them. The Africans got drunk before they started with their machetes. They called it fighting for freedom. Then they turned back to witchcraft and called it religion because it was African. Dr Hawthorne was sent there as a judge but couldn’t get many convictions because the defendants claimed they were fighting for their indigenous rights, and the African judges supported them.”

  It was not a subject which interested David. “But what are his lectures like?

  “They are riddled with biblical texts but he always attracts lots of students.”

  David toyed nervously with his coffee cup. He had never been interested in politics or history and he didn’t really understand what his colleague was getting at, but he had an uneasy feeling that he had more sympathy with Sir Charles than he chose to reveal.

  “But what about the man himself?”

  “The most remarkable thing about him is that he’s a completely self-made man. Look at him – scholarships to King’s College in Auckland and to Oxford University, Queen’s Counsel, knighted for his service to the community. But do you know who his father was? “