Awatea and the Kawa Gang

by Fraser Smith

“Mead,” said Kim. “Honey, water, yeast and feijoas make honey wine. Leave it for a year, then put it into bottles.”

  “Rotten piro water, you mean. After a year it will be stinky,” said Tai. “That feijoa in the bung will rot, and flies will get in.”

  “Arrr, when it’s finished fizzing I’ll bang in a wooden bung, won’t I? Waipiro, not piro wai,” said Kim. “Seen any tigers lately?”

  “It was you!” said Tai. “That tiger is just a skin. You sneaked in when we were playing music and climbed under it.”

  “Music? That what you call it? Sounded like a cat fight from here. I’ve been brewing. Can’t be me you’re looking for. Let’s take the rest of the honey back to the house.” Kim had a bucket of honey left. Tai dipped his finger in, dodging the bees slowly swimming on the surface. “I’ve been extracting honey from our hives while you were at the beach.”

  “Does Nan know you’re making mead?” asked Awa with his mouth full. He was loudly chewing a hunk of honeycomb. “You can get drunk on that.”

  Kim stopped in his tracks, narrowed his eyes and frowned down at him. “Drunk? The only drunk I ever knew was Mr Carol! Why do you think he was drowned? Always stealing from old Mrs Carol, that’s why, selling her jewellery to buy his grog. Now this lovely mead stays hidden under the hedge! Get it? It’s for sipping quietly, not getting drunk! Anyway, you boys might want a taste. Sweet honey and feijoa … mmmm.”

  “OK, we can keep a secret, but we know it was you under that tiger skin. It was a good trick lifting the head up to the window. How did you know we were gonna come back?” Tai asked.

  “Oh, you should be very careful around Mrs Carol’s house. Strange things happen in there, as you know. Have you heard the scratching sounds? That’s Mrs Carol scratching around in the corners, looking for jewels hidden in forgotten places.”

  Kim put down the bucket and carefully picked a bee from the scummy surface. Runny honey dripped from it. “Did you know dead bees can sting?”

  “They can’t,” said Awa.

  “Wanna check? Here!”

  Kim was holding the bee by its wings. Tai saw it move. “It’s not dead. It moved.”

  “Come on,” said Kim. “Don’t be a chicken, come hither little one, just a little dead bee.” Kim walked towards Awa, reached out and grabbed his arm. The bee squirmed.

  Awa struggled to get away from Kim’s tight grip. The bee tightened into a ball, turned, squirmed and stung Kim’s thumb.

  “Argh! Bloody hua, I thought it was dead.” Kim let go of Awa, pulled out a pocket knife and scraped out the sting.

  “Ha,” said Awa. “Some of your own medicine, eh? Good job.”

  Kim put on his scary voice again. “People don’t talk about the ghost of Mrs Carol, but she still searches the house for her mother’s ring. I saw that ring on her old freckled hand when she was alive, but it was nowhere to be found when she died. Nan made us boys search the house fruitlessly many times. They say she’s still searching for it.”

  Kim took the honey back to the house, smiling to himself and singing, “Old Mrs Carol, drowned her husband, in a rain barrel …”

  “Come on, Awa, I’m not scared, let’s look for tiger skin evidence,” said Tai quietly.

  The boys cautiously returned to Mrs Carol’s. Opening the door very slowly, they looked around. The tiger skin was under the grand piano, but, looking closer, they saw fresh scuff marks in the dust and one of its paws was carelessly tucked under a leg.

  “Kim,” said Tai.

  “Yeah,” said Awa.

  The long, sharp, curved claws scratched at the floor as the boys straightened the skin.

  Awa and Tai slept in a big bed made up in a porch. There was a roof, and striped canvas sidings that could be rolled up in the day and rolled down at night. The boys found it exciting to sleep with the canvas up, but the nights were getting cold.

  From their bed, they could see down the long lawn to the road, on the other side of which was the railway station and the water tower. They could hear the chug of the steam trains and the roar of the new diesels passing. Steam needs water, and coal to heat it. The water tower was a tank set on a high platform, with a huge hose hanging off it.

  Kim came to find the boys when they had finished sweeping the paths. “We need some coal, so bring a bucket each. We’ve got a date with the eleven o’clock steam train.”

  As they got close to the station, they could hear a train coming. Kim had brought two of his dogs. He got the boys to bob down with him behind the fence. They could hear the steam hissing and the wheels clanging against the tracks. The engine rattled like a great black beast in chains, eager to escape, but the brakes were on as the train slowed to pass through the station.

  Kim sued his dogs onto it. “Ssss, sss, sue, get it, get it, sue, sue, sss, sss.”

  “Cut it out, Kim. What are the dogs gonna do?” Tai was anxious.

  “Watch,” said Kim.

  From behind the fence, it looked as though the dogs would get burnt by the steam and then cut up by the wheels. They raced alongside the steam engine, barking furiously. The driver and the stoker leaned out over the side of the engine, then moved back in to grab coal to throw at the dogs. Lots of coal. The dogs kept up with the slow-moving train, barking their heads off and having fun, it seemed to the boys. When the men tired of throwing and the train sped up, Kim whistled his dogs in. Awa wondered how they could hear above the noise, but they came back and sat, panting, as if asking, “What next, boss?” All in a day’s work.

  “All-a-go,” said Kim. “All-a-go.” They wagged their tails and drooled as he patted them. “Got your buckets, lads? Let’s go.”

  As the train disappeared in the distance, they filled their buckets with coal, picking up good chunks all along the tracks. The dogs lifted their legs to bless the water tower posts.

  “What if the dogs got hit, though, Kim?” Awa asked.

  “They’re a hard target, must be, haven’t been hit yet. Besides, they enjoy it – good exercise, no sheep to round up today.”

  “Why do the drivers bother throwing the coal?” Awa was intrigued. “It’s like a con trick.”

  “Nah,” said Kim. “I reckon the drivers get bored, not even a steering wheel to turn. They feed the coal, work the brakes, slow down, speed up, have a cup of tea, all day long.”

  Tai laughed, swinging his bucket in rhythm to their steps. “Choo-choo, choo-choo.”

  Kim joined in. “Choo-choo, choo-choo, we’re bringing home the bacon from the railway station.”

  “Choo-choo, bringing home the bacon,” they all chanted.

  The excited dogs barked and jumped at the swinging buckets.

  “Get in behind,” Kim commanded. “Not your choo-choo in behind!”

  Tai threw them a stick. “Not your chew chew, chew this!”

  The boys thought that was funny. The dogs fetched, heeled and followed them home.

  10

  Tapu

  Finally, Awa and Tai were back at the Kawa Gang HQ, and the first thing they did was boil the billy for a cup of Kawa Gang tea. That meant tea, condensed milk and malt extract stirred with a stick.

  Awa told Tai about the tractor tracks and the cut fence. “Do you remember the leopard seals and the kamikaze attack?”

  “My head remembers,” said Tai, gingerly touching the faded yellow wound.

  “Just before the kazies dived, I was watching those leopards swim out through a channel in the rocks. There were small blocks of wood, like cut timber, floating out there, near where the tractor tracks were.”

  “Floats?” said Tai.

  “Yeah, maybe. We should tell Toss and Pa. With your head gushing blood, I forgot all about it.”

  “I might have a look around myself later, now I’m in the Kawa Gang. Vigilantes, eh? Scouts. Yeah.” Tai was almost talking to himself. “Is there anywhere you haven’t been?”

  “Just the tapu area further up the hill from here. Toss told me not to go near it. I went close, but it gave me goose
bumps. It’s dark in there and steep, and the trees have long grey beards. I haven’t been past the taro patch, and I’m never going to.”

  They ate the last of the gingernuts dunked into their mugs to soften. Carrot yelled from the tree hut, “Boy! Boy!”

  “What does that bird want now?” Awa grumbled. He left Tai fishing a piece of soggy biscuit from the bottom of his mug with his stirring stick, and climbed the tree.

  Carrot was perched on the headboard of the mingimingi bed. Awa sat beside him and stroked his head. Carrot bent his head forward and almost purred. “Mmmm, Boy.”

  Full of sweet tea and biscuit, Awa stretched out beside Carrot, and the tree gently rocked them both to sleep.

  Awa was woken by Carrot preening and stretching his wings over Awa’s head. “Pretty boy,” he said quietly, admiring the colour as sunlight poured through Carrot’s outstretched wing feathers.

  “Crusty Boy,” replied Carrot.

  “OK. Let’s see if we can find you something to eat.”

  There was still some cabin bread in the tin. Awa shoved some in his pocket and climbed down the tree, calling Carrot after him. He was sitting on a rock seat by the dead fire, feeding Carrot, when he noticed the two empty cups and remembered Tai. Where was he?

  “Tai!” he yelled.

  Carrot got a fright. “Look out!” he squawked.

  There was no reply. Awa called again, louder. “TAI!”

  With a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he said to Carrot, “Boy shoulder,” and they walked out of the hollow and up the hill into the afternoon sun. They had a clear view of the empty beach below.

  There was no sign of Tai. Awa wondered how long he’d nodded off for. No more than half an hour, he reckoned. He called again and waited, holding his breath and straining his ears for a reply. He thought he heard a muffled call coming from behind him, so he climbed to where the tapu valley dropped into shadow, and called again. This time the reply was louder. It came from down below.

  “Oh no, Tai’s in the tapu area. I warned him about that place.”

  “Zealots,” mumbled Carrot.

  “Hang on, we’re coming!” Awa yelled as he began to descend into the valley.

  The chill was like cold water trickling down his neck and seeping through his clothes. He sucked in his breath and picked his way down through boulders and scrub until he reached a small, flat clearing. He could hear water, but he couldn’t see any. He wondered if it was underground.

  Awa yelled again. “Tai, where are you?”

  A weak reply bounced around in the confusion of shadows, rocks and bearded trees. Awa pulled a ripped piece of old sheet he used for a handkerchief from his pocket, tied it to one end of a broken branch, and pushed the other end into a crack between two rocks to help him find his way back. He called again. This time the response was clearer.

  “Boy, find! Boy, find!” he urged Carrot.

  Carrot yelled, “Boy!”

  “Carrot!” Tai’s answer was faint, and it was hard to tell where it was coming from.

  Carrot flew across a deep rocky chasm and disappeared into the treetops below.

  Awa sat down to think. The sound of water was coming from the bottom of the chasm. Not a lot of water. He guessed it was the same little creek that flowed through the Kawa Gang HQ. What if Tai had fallen down a tomo? He was only eight years old.

  Carrot’s squawk echoed, “Boy, find!”

  Awa yelled, “Bring him, Carrot!”

  It was some time before Awa heard the sound of rocks clattering and then splashing into distant water. He yelled, “Tai!”

  “Awa!” Tai was closer now.

  There were more clattering rocks. “Boy, Boy!” echoed about the valley.

  Awa slid closer on his bum, using his heels as brakes. He stopped before a steep drop, anchoring himself with his feet and hands. To his right, far below, he saw a flash of colour through the tree tops, and then, after a long wait, more colour, closer this time, and then he caught a brief glimpse of Tai. In short swoops, Carrot was leading him up the valley’s steep side.

  Awa was too relieved to realise his own danger. A rock that was anchoring his left foot shifted and then rolled over the drop, crashing far below. Awa flattened his body against the ground and dug in his elbows. They dragged painfully and then held as more rocks bounced away into the darkness. He shuffled back up on his bum, heels and elbows until he was safe.

  “Tai!”

  “Here!” Tai was close.

  Then wings. “Find, find,” said Carrot, swooping down to Awa’s shoulder.

  Tai was wet and muddy. His face was very white, and his eyes were red from crying. “I was lost,” he whimpered. “And there’s bones down there, and I got scared, and I couldn’t find my way. It was steep and dark. Slippery.”

  Awa suddenly felt the chill again. He grabbed Tai’s arm. “Come on, quickly, outa here!”

  They climbed out of the gully and over the hill, and warmed up in the afternoon sun.

  Tai explained, “I wanted to be a scout, to discover something. I went past the taro patch and I heard a waterfall, so I climbed up the valley to find it. I kept hearing it just ahead. Then it got dark, and there were caves, and I saw bones under a rock overhang, and I got scared. There were bones everywhere! I forgot the way back, so I tried to climb out. There’s holes in the banks and dark places you can’t see into and thousands of cave wētā as big as your hand that kept jumping on me. The water sounds like voices talking, and they got louder whenever I stopped. Talking and hissing at me! Then I couldn’t find a way up the cliff, and I didn’t want to go back down to the bone caves, so I sat down. I was there for hours! I yelled out, and that was when I thought I heard you calling, and then Carrot came and showed me the way out.”

  “It’s tapu in there, Tai. I told you.”

  “But I didn’t mean to go that far in. Then it got steep and dark, and I got mixed up. Bones and skulls. Hissing voices.”

  “Did you touch anything?”

  “No. I was trying to get away from the bones, but I think I was going round and round in circles.”

  The sun warmed him.

  “Cup of Kawa Gang tea?” asked Awa.

  Tai washed his face, arms and legs in the creek. He stripped to his undies and spread his clothes on a rock by the fire, and then sat on the rock beside them, shivering. His two big toes were stubbed and bleeding where they had poked their way through his old sandshoes.

  Awa thought of a way to cheer Tai up. He snuck away to his treasure jar and carefully took out the largest lump of ambergris, before putting the jar back. Two left. Oh well. This should take Tai’s mind off the danger and the horror he had been through.

  As they drank their sweet tea, sitting by the fire, Awa said, “If you can keep getting lost in the tapu place a secret, I will show you a treasure. You shouldn’t have gone in there. It’s tapu. If Nan finds out she won’t let us out of her sight. You know what she’s like with tapu!”

  “I’ll never go near that place again Awa. It was a bad mistake. Old bones, creepy crawly wētā and voices! I don’t want to get in trouble.”

  “No way! You can feel that place. Cold and clammy. How come you carried on?” asked Awa.

  “I wanted to discover something. I made myself do it.”

  “You discovered something all right, something we should leave alone!” Awa shivered. “OK then, so this is treasure.” With a flourish, he passed Tai the lump of ambergris.

  Tai held it in his hand, tapped it on a rock, sniffed it and held it up to the light. He looked at Awa. “Teka, treasure. Lies and mud pies.” He lifted his arm to throw it away. Awa grabbed his arm just in time.

  “Here, give it to me and I will tell you a story. And what do you say to Carrot?”

  Carrot, his head sideways again, was looking at the ambergris. He was perched on one of the rock seats, listening in.

  “Thanks, Carrot. Thank you for finding me and showing me the way out.”

  “Boy,
find,” said Carrot, nodding his head wisely. “Find boy.”

  Awa told Tai about Carrot finding the lump of ambergris and being rewarded with sand grubs. He explained that ambergris was sperm whale spew that had washed ashore after years at sea. It was used in perfume and was worth lots of money. Tai’s clothes soon dried, and as the fire warmed him he began to forget about getting lost. Awa showed him the hot wire test with the heated tip of his knife and was rewarded with a small puff of fragrant smoke.

  As they walked out, they talked about selling the treasure and what they would do with the money. Tai burst into a run to be the first to the Rumbles’ place. He charged in the door, panting with the news, “We found ambergris!”

  Carrot was like a stuck record. “Boy find, find boy, find boy!”

  Luckily nobody listened to the parrot’s news. Ma and Pa Rumble gathered around Tai. Pa Rumble got out a needle and heated it with a match till the tip was red hot. He gently pushed the red needle tip into the lump and watched smoke puff up. He sniffed at it, smiling. “You found treasure all right, Boy!”

  “Find boy, find boy!” Carrot was almost shouting.

  “Thanks, Carrot.” Awa stroked the bird’s head as he nodded crazily on his perch. “I owe you another favour. Thanks, old boy.”

  “Crusty, crusty.”

  “Yes, crusty for Carrot. I won’t forget.”

  “You go and show your Nan and Pop that,” said Ma Rumble.

  At the bach, Tai was first again with the news. Everyone was so excited about the treasure that Tai forgot about being lost. Awa breathed a sigh of relief.

  11

  A Gander and a Ghost

  Awa’s Aunty Anne came to visit and left his little cousin Tui to stay while she went off somewhere on business.

  Tui followed Awa and Tai everywhere. “Tawa, can you take me to see the nice lady now?” was her first question as soon as Aunty Anne had set off.

  “I am Awa and this is Tai, Tui.”

  “Yes, Tawa. You two makes Tawa. Tawa, take me to see the nice lady.”

  “We are making a kite right now, Tui. Maybe later,” said Awa, looking at Tai and shaking his head no.