The Old Net

Tu Tangata, Issue 28, 1 February 1986, Page 28

The Old Net

by Rayma Ritchie

Pakiwaitara

The news of the arrival of the great white bird reached them as they were deliberating.

“It has happened as you saw it, Matakite, the bird has reached our shores bringing with it upheaval in our land. The first bird flew from us but this one will not go away. It is time to act.”

“That is easy to say, Inaianei, but we must not be hasty. Many birds are lost because the hunter strikes before the time is right. We must consider the paths open to us.”

“There is nothing in our past to help us,” said Muanga. “I see the first white bird. It touched our shores, drank and departed. Our ancestors came, used the land but followed the sacred rites to protect our food supplies.”

“The tapu will be broken,” said Matakite. “Our people will change. I see and what I see will happen.” He shook his head sorrowfully and the red feathers in his topknot fluttered. “We cannot change the future, perhaps we can delay it. Perhaps the delay will make the transition easier for our people. The seasons change, the Karaka berries ripen. If we treat them correctly, the food sustains us; if the traditional method is not used we die.”

“You are right, Matakite” said Muanga. “We came to this land, and peacefully swallowed the first walkers of our forests. They became blood of our blood. In time that will happen to us. Is that what you see?”

“That must not happen,” said Inaianei, agitated. “We are the people of the land, we walk tall in the forests, we fish rightfully in the lakes and sea. No great white bird and its offspring should drive us from our land. We are the land.”

“In the past,” said Muanga “we learnt from the land by making mistakes in its use. Perhaps these fledglings will work the same way.”

“Will they listen to us, will they learn quickly the sacred way?”

“They will bring strange ways,” said Matakite.

“Some of our people will be blinded by the attractive glitter of their possessions and evil will be done because of that. I see great wounds in our land, I hear the ugly sound of death and destruction. But some of us will learn great things from the strangers and together, we and they, will try to build one good house. They too will become blood of our blood. “But not today, not here and now,” pleaded Inaianei. “Can you say that the time is right?” “I cannot say that” said Muranga.

“Today the difference between us is like rifleman and moa. There is a great deal of instruction to be done; new sacred ways must be formulated, long years of instruction are ahead. “But we have not time,” said Inaianei, impatiently. “They are here now, swarming on our shores and Matakite has told us there are many more to come. Somehow we must delay the contact.” “Because of the lessons of the past, I agree” said Muranga. “Because of what I see in the future, I agree,” said Matakite. “We must think." said Inaianei. The silence was profound and lasted for many days so that the people in the villages looking to the cave in the hills and seeing no sign of life felt deserted, desolate and totally afraid. "Our mana has gone and we are nothing,” they cried.

Until finally one beautiful spring day when a bright warm sun was drying out the winter-damp houses, Muanga, Inaianei and Matakite felt resolution stir. “I have decided” they each said. Then Muanga spoke first because of his honoured position. “We will hide our land.” “We will conceal it from the strange white birds.” “We will deceive them until the time is right," said Matakite. “But how?" all said and they deliberated each with his own thoughts for more anxious days. “We could sink the land but our people would suffer. The forests, the swamps the fields would be gone and only the hilltops remain.” “We could pour fire on the land so it would no longer be desirable but our people would be destroyed. "We could cast the net of Maui over it,” said Matakite, slowly, “so the land would be concealed from the sight of strangers, but the people would be protected. “That is the answer,” said Muanga and Inaianei, admiring and excited. And so it was done. Far out in the oceans at that time, the sailing ships whalers, sealers and explorers were pommeled by surging seas, inexplicably. Scientists struggled with the problem but could find no answer.

Later, explorers searching for Captain Cook’s New Zealand could find no trace of the islands he had described and finally agreed that his charts were false.

However, ships venturing into the South Pacific would give a wide berth to a certain restless area of that ocean. There were strange movements of the water, dangerous whirlpools and incomprehensible areas of suction. It was weird and frightening but many lived to tell about the area because those who ventured in were always pushed to the

safety of smoother waters at the edges of the maelstrom. But that in itself was terrifying so for many years no ships would sail there and indeed there was nothing to encourage them to do so. Later still, planes flying from Australia to the Antarctic did not venture near those latitudes because of reporters from adventurous aviators. "A turbulence which cannot be explained. strange lights and buffeting winds. Apparently not dangerous but unnerving nevertheless.” But this could not go on forever. One day Muanga, Inaianei and Matakite met because the time was right. "It seems to me,” said Muanga, “that our people are now prepared. We have given them examples from the past, we have incorporated new traditions in our basket based on what we have learnt from other lands.”

“We have prepared them for the present by introducing new methods of food production on a much larger scale. We have shown them uses for the children of Tane and we have illustrated many strange ways the rocks under the land can be used.” “We have introduced them to the way of life in the large towns I have seen. We have described and instructed them.” “We, and they are ready” said Inaianei. “Have we left anything undone?” asked Muanga. “I fear that we are perhaps not quite ready,” said Matakite. “But I have a greater fear. The net of Maui has given us great service but I see small weaknesses in it. One hole could take us unawares. The net must be hauled in.” And so it was done. A lone pilot on a round-the-world trip flew carelessly too far south and was astonished to find stretched below him on a silver sea, a beautiful island with a

much-indented coastline. His report led to world-wide interest and amazement. Scientists who love to explain could find no explanation and were for a time suitably humbled. The rush began and it was not long before the cities Matakite had seen were standing on the shores of the loveliest harbours. Roads covered the land like tentacles of hundreds of octopi. Houses went up on the land, mines and tunnels were pushed into the earth; waterways were dammed, diverted and drained. The forests were forced back with great speed and vigour. The new ways for which the people of the land had been so carefully prepared arrived swiftly and ruthlessly. The preparation did not make it any easier for them to accept the new life.

And Muanga, Inaianei and Matakite knew that they had failed. “We were wrong,” they said. “With the best of intentions we chose the wrong way. Our people were strong then, now they feel overwhelmed by the speed of things changed. “I feel weak” said Muanga. “My voice is going” said Inaianei. “I cannot see the path ahead” said Matakite. Sighing as they faded into the night the three swept past the city out to sea, and the lights dimmed a little as they passed. The old people left behind in the strange new world shivered and sighed, “The power has gone from our people, our mana has gone,” they said. “But we will survive because the blood of our blood is in the new life.” But the young people disagreed, “Our power is gone because our traditions have gone. Our blood is our own. We are different and separate” they shouted resentfully. And there was sorrow and anger in the land.