Awatea and the Kawa Gang

by Fraser Smith

  Awa shook Tredget’s extended hand and Tredget winked at him, saying quietly, “Loose lips sink ships, eh Boy? What secret mission have you been on, I wonder.”

  “Shhh!” said Carrot.

  “I will, Carrot, but this boy and I need a quiet word sometime soon.”

  Inside, the table was laid with a plate of fresh biscuits and a teapot with a rainbow-coloured tea cosy like Awa’s hat, complete with pompom. Pa and Toss were pouring tea as they all sat down. “Bed, Carrot,” ordered Pa. Carrot flew to his perch by the door.

  “Crusty. Old bugger,” he mumbled.

  Tredget laughed and took over a large hunk of biscuit. “Crusty for Carrot?”

  The bird grasped the biscuit firmly in its claw and ate it with relish.

  “Haven’t you been feeding this bird?” he teased Awa.

  “He likes sand grubs, but we didn’t get any today.”

  “Clever boy, sand grubs are his favourite. He’ll do a lot of work for a few of those.” He winked again.

  Awa was thinking, Me and my big mouth, and then he remembered the note Tredget had written last summer. He already knew where the treasure was buried, and it was still there. X marks the spot. Carrot must have shown him.

  They talked about Tredget getting over forty pounds for some of his lumps of ambergris. The Rumbles had been shopping, and they wanted to go away again before Tredget left. They still needed a few things and Tredget was going to help. Pa wanted to go too.

  “Except we can’t take that crazy Carrot! He drives people up the wall, terrorises them. Can you babysit him for a couple of days, Awa?”

  “Can I?”

  “We can bring his perch and poop tray up to your bach.”

  “Whoopsie poop!” shouted Carrot as he lifted his tail and splattered the tray.

  “See what I mean!”

  “Old bugger, Rarmbull, Rarmbull, Rarmbull.”

  Things were happening pretty fast. Awa was wondering if his uncles could handle that bird, especially after Carrot’s poop attack the last time they met.

  “Maybe for two or three days?” said Pa. “And Toss can help out if you get in a pickle. Don’t worry about your Nan and Pop. We’ve talked already.”

  Two or three days with Carrot. Fantastic, thought Awa.

  “Your mouth is open. Finish your biscuits,” said Tredget. “Ma has made a double batch to keep you both from starving to death. I’ll drop Carrot and his stuff over later. We have to leave early tomorrow.”

  Tredget walked Awa to the door. Out on the verandah he said quietly, “X marks the spot. Did you get my note? Do you want me to do anything for you?”

  “I got your note. I didn’t know when the Rumbles were coming home. I missed Carrot … I was thinking of a few things for the tree hut.”

  “We’re back now, Boy. We’ll be seeing the agent about the last of the ambergris tomorrow.”

  “Would you sell a lump for me? Your note was in my treasure jar, so you know what’s in it. I was thinking of some things for cooking with, and another blanket in case I want to sleep up there. It’s getting colder.”

  “I know exactly what you need for our hut. You get the treasure and I’ll get the stuff!”

  Our hut! Awa was sharing a hut, and he was going to get it set up so he could stay there. He ran all the way back to his treasure, shifted the X rock and opened the jar. He chose the largest of his four pieces, replaced the jar and the rock, and ran back. Tredget came out to meet him. In the privacy of the verandah, he sniffed the ambergris, weighed it in his hands and nodded in approval. “I wouldn’t mind betting that Carrot had something to do with this … find, find, find?”

  “We both found it.”

  “Well, the rest of it is safe where it is, Boy. You kept my secret, and I can keep yours. What are you going to do with lots of money?”

  Awa hadn’t thought about it. Kim’s ten pounds to sleep in Miss Powell’s house was an enormous amount. He might have ten times that sitting in a jar!

  “Can you please buy some supplies for our hut? We need stuff to eat and cook with and …”

  “I can do that. Leave it to me, and I’ll bring back the change.” He shook Awa’s hand and the deal was sealed. “You just look after that crazy parrot.”

  On his way back to the bach, Awa suddenly remembered the tractor tracks and the cut fence. Meeting Tredget had made him forget to tell Pa Rumble. “Tomorrow,” he said to himself.

  5

  Kawa Gang HQ

  Pa Rumble was very interested in the cut fence. He made Awa take him there straight away the next day. “Bloody huas,” he mumbled. “Why don’t they just drive down the beach? They don’t want to be seen, I’ll be bound. We’d better get Toss to fix this fence before his sheep find the weak spot.”

  Over the next two days, Awa and Carrot kept an eye out for the tractor as they searched for more ambergris and gave Red Eye food and water. The kamikaze gang were tamer now and even waited for the food to be delivered. Red Eye was flying again, but he still wasn’t up to attacking the hawks. Awa left food scraps and watched from a distant rock as the magpies ate. “Love thine enemy,” he mumbled to himself, “and keep him close!” He remembered a word, hoariri – angry friend. The Māori word for enemy.

  Nan had said the stitches in his ear could come out in one more day. “No harm done, Carrot. I would rather the kamikaze gang was on our side in these wild parts. But I’m not going to turn the other cheek and give Red Eye a chance at my other ear.” He loaded his shanghai and snuck up on the birds to see how close he could get.

  Red Eye let him get just within range before he sounded his alarm. “Quardle oodle dork!”

  Awa stopped.

  “Crusty, zealots!” Carrot was getting quite brave. The kamikaze gang watched. Carrot flew from Awa’s shoulder towards the magpies, landed, and wove his way towards them. Awa was worried and drew his shanghai ready to defend Carrot. Carrot crouched low like he was an eye dog shifting sheep, his eyes moving from bird to bird. “Grrrr!”

  The kamikazes froze. Carrot stretched out his neck and began swaying his head from side to side in a hypnotic rhythm. The five magpies swayed their heads in time. Carrot took one step, stopped, took another step, stopped, until he was almost within reach of Red Eye. Now Awa couldn’t fire – he might hit Carrot.

  Awa slowly stalked closer. The kamikazes were still swaying, their eyes locked on Carrot. Suddenly, Carrot flew up. The spell broke and the gang scrambled into the air, but Carrot had the jump on them. In mid-air, he grasped the tail feathers of the slowest bird and dragged it to the ground. It must have been one of the younger birds. The noise from the struggling magpie was deafening. “Keeork, keeork, keeork!” Carrot shook his head and the magpie shed some tail feathers and took off after the others.

  “Grrrr!” Carrot was shredding the feathers by the time Awa got to him.

  “Bloody hell! You’re the meanest bird I have ever seen! What got into you? You whipped those kamikaze cowards single-handed.”

  Carrot had a crazy look in his eye. Awa wanted those feathers, but he didn’t want to stop Carrot just yet. He looked very determined.

  The magpies were nowhere to be seen. Red Eye must be better, Awa thought. He sat down to look at the view as Carrot scattered bits of feather about. Sandy beaches stretched into the distance. Hills faded into the haze. Further out, he thought he could make out Cape Kidnappers. Awa wondered about kidnapping a baby magpie. Maybe with Carrot on guard he could do it. “Carrot, you’re dangerous! You can really do some damage!”

  “Look out! Look out! Grrrr, zealots!”

  Back on the beach, they heard the distant sound of an engine. “The Rumbles are back,” said Awa.

  “Rarmbull, Boy,” said Carrot.

  The Land Rover stopped, and Tredget leaned out the driver’s window. “I’ll meet you at spot X in an hour. Gotta unpack.” The crowded little 4WD carried on up to the Rumbles’ place.

  Awa went back to the pōhutukawa, base camp of the Kawa Gang. Carrot
hunted out flax seeds on the tall stalks. Awa lit a fire and put the billy on. They were eating Ma’s biscuits when Tredget arrived with a pack on his back.

  “Arrr, the billy’s on the boil. Now let’s see.” He reached into his pack and took out two tin mugs, some sweetened condensed milk tubes and a tin of tea leaves. He threw some tea leaves in the billy, took it off the flames and hit it on the side three times with a stick. The tea leaves sank to the bottom. He turned the billy round three times, poured the tea, added condensed milk, and with a flourish produced a tin of sugar and some teaspoons from his pack. He sugared the tea and handed Awa a mug. To Awa it had all seemed like one smooth motion.

  “Cat got your tongue again, Boy?”

  “Welcome to the HQ of the Kawa Gang,” said Awa.

  “And very well set up it is too. Now, you needed a few things. Am I in the Kawa Gang?” Tredget asked.

  “It’s Carrot and Awa and a pōhutukawa, but you can join.”

  “Let’s shake on that.” As they shook hands, Awa wondered how long Tredget would be back for this time. He watched as more useful items were placed on the grass in front of him.

  A tin of malt extract, spoons, a decent knife and steel in a leather pouch, matches, salt, onions, rice, a set of three billies one inside the other, cabin bread, gingernut biscuits, and a pound of butter. Tied to one side of the pack was a steel grill. “We can set up a decent fireplace with this.” There was a small spade and toilet paper. “This place needs a dunny,” Tredget said. He pulled out a waterproof oilskin tarpaulin. “This is to wrap up stuff to keep it dry and clean when no one is here, or to throw over your bed at night.” There were two sugar bags, a rope and pulley, a grey army blanket and a new torch.

  “Oh, and here’s your change.” He passed Awa a paper bag. “Cat got your tongue again, Boy?”

  Awa was looking wide-eyed into the bag. It was bulging with one-pound notes. “Thanks,” he stammered, “but this must have cost a lot.”

  “I got thirty-five pounds for your lump. It was sixteen pounds for this stuff, and that there is your change.”

  Awa counted out nineteen pounds and took it over to where his treasure jar was buried. Soon it was safe underground.

  “Carrot showed me that spot,” said Tredget.

  “He showed me yours too, and the tree hut.”

  “You looked after my treasure, thanks for that. Now let’s sort this kitchen out.”

  They rearranged the circle of stones to fit the grill. The billies sat on top. Together they rolled some large rocks over to use as fireside seats.

  Tredget showed Awa how to make a pulley system to haul heavy stuff up and down the tree. He wrapped all the supplies in the tarpaulin and stored them under the roof branch. Then he cut more mingimingi to plump up the mattress. He also dug a long drop downstream and well away from their hut.

  As they rested on their fireside seats, Awa told Tredget about the tractor tracks.

  “This would be a good spot to scout from, Awa. You might not see anything from here, but you’ll hear it.”

  Tredget left Awa to tidy up, saying, “I’ll be back for lunch tomorrow, and as head chef of the Kawa Gang, you’re cooking! Can I take Carrot? I want him to do something for me.”

  Awa guessed that Tredget would be checking the tractor tracks or treasure hunting for the rest of the day. He thought about what to cook for their lunch and decided on using a bull kelp bag over the grill. He hurried off to set his hīnaki and find some bull kelp. Lunch tomorrow would be catch of the day, with taro, smoked pāua and seaweed chips.

  When Tredget and Carrot arrived at the Kawa Gang HQ the next day, the food was slowly cooking over a bed of coals. The meal began with smoked pāua cut into thin strips. Then seaweed chips. Awa used the spade to move the hot coals around to keep the heat just right. He had burnt his fingers a few times and was glad of the pool nearby to cool them down. Now he used the spade to lift the swollen bull kelp bag from the grill.

  “Crusty, look out!” Carrot called.

  Tredget was rolling pāua pieces in seaweed and eating them with his fingers. “This is such a great invention. How did you think of it?”

  “Chef’s secret.”

  “Shhh,” said Carrot.

  Awa slid the hot kelp bag off the spade onto a flat rock and cut a nick in the top to open it. Steam came gushing out of the hole.

  Soon they were eating butterfish with taro and steamed green taro spears. “Mmmm, you used butter in this, Awa?”

  “One of Nan’s recipes. I wanted to put kina in too but I ate it.”

  “You are the best cook this Kawa HQ has ever seen. I’ll keep you on! By the way, your Nan and Pop and my folks are talking about going back to the homestead for a couple of days together. I offered to babysit, not that you need it. Thought that if you were getting ready to camp out, this could be your chance.”

  “What did Nan say?”

  “She wasn’t too keen but Ma and Toss talked her into it. They said the outdoor life is suiting you, and she had to agree!”

  Awa was overjoyed. He stood on his rock seat, threw his head back, and gave his Tarzan cry, with a bit of magpie thrown in. “Oo e oo e oo e oo, quardle ardle doodle! The Kawa Gang rules!”

  Tredget laughed and Carrot joined in. “Hehe haha haa!”

  Echoes came back from the rocks above and bounced around the little valley.

  As the sound faded, there came a loud “Quardle oodle arkle DORK!” followed by a flash of black and white and more “Oodle wardle!” The trees around them rustled with magpies.

  Carrot barked, huntaway style, “Woohoof!”

  “The kamikazes are back. They’re too chicken to attack. We got them sorted, eh Carrot.”

  “Grrrr, grrrr,” said Carrot.

  Awa loaded his shanghai, but the birds kept their distance as he told Tredget the story about Red Eye.

  As they finished their long lunch, Tredget said, “Awa, you can cook, build, shoot, fish, and with your sidekick Carrot the defender even the kamikaze gang is totally outmanoeuvred. I have total faith you can survive out here. You could move in tomorrow for a couple of days. I checked the fence. You were right about tractor tracks but nothing fresh. Keep your ears open and your eyes peeled, and if you see any strange people, do NOT let them see you! You’ll be all right up here. Just make sure you check in with me every day.”

  6

  Flip-top Head

  The fuss of leaving at low tide was over and the sound of the Humber 80’s engine faded in the distance. Awa was with Tredget and Carrot at the Rumbles’ cabin.

  “I s’pose you want to get going, Awa? But I reckon you should come back later. I want to show you how a camp oven works. You can have your last decent feed before you go totally bush.”

  “Thanks, I’m off to check the hīnaki while the tide is out.” Grabbing a sugar bag, Awa left Carrot and Tredget drinking tea at the table and ran down the beach.

  As the tide came in, Awa cleaned his catch and set up Pa Rumble’s smoker. Leaving a slow fire going, with fish hanging in the smoke, he took off for the tree hut. He made up the mingimingi bed, stacked some firewood in the kitchen, tried out the long drop and checked the weather. The clouds were high and rippled, a mackerel sky. Pop had told him that meant a shift in wind direction. Wait and see, he thought, as he walked back to see how the camp oven was going.

  Tredget had a fire going outside. A cast-iron pot with three short legs stood beside the fire, with hot coals on its flat lid. He and Awa ate some smoked fish before checking the contents. “I shot a fat cock pheasant a couple of days ago. Wrapped in bacon, it’s the best. Saved it till everyone had gone, ’cause there’s just enough for two.” He brushed the coals off the lid and lifted it.

  It was the best. Gamey, smoky and delicious.

  When there were only bones left, and the clouds were ribbed and pink like the undersides of young mushrooms, Awa licked his fingers, called his watchdog parrot, and left for his first night in the tree hut.

  T
he night was still. He put the extra blanket on the bed, and Carrot took up his post on the headboard. It had been a very physical day, and Awa’s puku was full. He put his new torch down beside the bed and slept.

  A ruru close by woke him, its call competing with tūī song. The weak rays of a new orange sun touched the tip of the tree. Patches of mackerel sky rippled and danced as the emerging sun washed them from below in a blast of colour. Awa sat up and watched the sun through the branches turn golden yellow.

  Carrot was grooming his feathers. “Who’s a pretty boy?” said Awa. It seemed to be the right thing to say.

  “Carrot, Carrot, crusty,” the parrot grumbled.

  “Carrot is a pretty boy! Pretty boy! Pretty boy!”

  “CRUSTY!” Louder this time.

  “Grumpy bird! Grumpy bird!”

  “GRRRR!”

  Awa thought he’d better stop teasing. It was time they both had kai.

  The Kawa Gang lit a small fire and boiled the billy. They ate gingernut biscuits for breakfast because no one told them they couldn’t, and then Awa kicked sand over the fire. They wandered down to the beach to look for more tractor tracks.

  Carrot muttered from his shoulder perch, “Look out, look out.”

  Awa looked to the sky and checked that his shanghai was still in his pocket. No magpies. He scanned the tide line. No tractor tracks, but a dark hump among the boulders in the distance seemed to move. As they got closer, Awa saw it was a long, dark, sleek seal. Spots showed on the seal’s neck as it lifted its head. Awa slowed his walk and thought … spots? Like a leopard’s spots. A leopard seal! Uncle Kim had told him they were dangerous and ate anything on land or in water. One of them had eaten Kim’s dog, which had been chained to its kennel. He’d thrown the seal some dog tucker earlier, and then it had come up in the night and eaten his best dog for pudding. All that was left was the dog’s collar and shuffling tracks in the sand going back to the sea.

  Until now, Awa had only seen a picture of one, so he stopped a safe distance away and sat on a low boulder to watch. The seal was much bigger than a leopard, and heavy. It was watching Awa, too. It shuffled towards him surprisingly quickly, closing the gap to ten paces in a couple of breaths. Awa was caught up in watching the litheness of its body, the softness of its eyes, until Carrot screamed, “LOOK OUT, LOOK OUT!”