Rich Man's Coffin (24 page)

         
The worry was well-founded. In a land that was mostly free of natural threats and disasters, the fear of the roving butcher filled in for the dread usually reserved for incidents such as earthquakes and floods.
 
Such was considered the magnitude of the destruction that he brought. Maori knew not the perils of venomous snakes, poisonous spiders, crocodiles, wild cats, and the like. Robulla ruled supreme above all lethal things. Treachery graced one side of the sword, while merciful Death graced the other. There was another trait which Black Jack set about to exploit next.

         
At the tribe's mid-summer feast, much food was prepared and many celebration rituals were performed.
 
The occasion was large, with much festivity.
 
All the traditional native items were on the menu, except for the neighbors.

         
Spirits were high and hearts were light. As the tribe began to eat, someone joked with Black Jack that Robulla was not being served.
 
Everyone laughed. Black Jack suddenly turned serious.

         
He said, "Ah, but what if he were to return and make a feast of you all?"

         
The banquet crowd fell silent.
 
Everyone looked at one another as if to say,
Oh no, here we go again!
 
The kidder begged forgiveness from Black Jack. Black Jack was not appeased and he seized the opportunity to debate the delicate matter throughout dinner and well into the night. Black Jack asked his tribe if he thought that Robulla was loyal to them.
 
This brought an uproar of objection at first, but the copious food and drink calmed the crowd. After a time, some expressed that they did not feel entirely safe as Robulla's subjects.
 
But why ask, and what is the alternative?
They demanded.
 
Are you attempting to undermine the man who put him in charge? Are you afraid of him, after all he has done for you?

         
There was now so much excitement and agitation surrounding the subject, that Black Jack laid it to rest for the night.
 
Inside, he was pleased that he had accomplished what he had set out to do.
 
He had planted another seed in the minds of his followers that would continue to grow. He planned for it to have the opposite effect of the pounds of pork, potatoes, and seafood that were settling in their satisfied stomachs and seducing them to sleep. They would begin to question Robulla’ place as a protector, and see him as a potential problem.
 
Just as the magnificent Black Whale migrated south to spawn in their beautiful waters, Robulla would someday return north along the coast to Kapiti, Black Jack assured himself.
Robulla will get his just desserts
, he thought.

         
Revenge was not the way, Black Jack thought.
 
He certainly possessed the anger and desire to destroy his adversary, but Black Jack would pursue a higher goal, he told himself.
 
He knew that killing Robulla outright would only destroy any possibility of learning Kumari’s whereabouts.
 
Plus,
 
he had no desire to eat the old chief.
 
Black Jack hatched a subtler plan. It would require intricate planning, he thought. It is one thing to kill a man outright in battle, and another thing completely to surprise and capture him when he is surrounded by his own army. A surprise attack requires readiness and preparation. More importantly, it dictates that one know exactly when one's enemy is approaching.
 
Black Jack had no idea when Robulla was coming. Plus, Black Jack did not know if his own warriors would be willing to cooperate.
 
He decided that one more convincing argument and a fine tuning of his plan should do the trick.

                                               
IV

         
Months passed without incident or sight of Robulla.
 
This period of peace served as a time for Black Jack to educate his people, and a time for the teacher to further enlighten himself.
 
He became like a cloistered student at a great university.
 
He did not have to work to survive. He was at liberty to sit and think all the time.
 
All his meals were provided, and all his needs were generously attended to.
 
He was exposed to and learned many new things.
 
He had found himself in charge of a school without rules or regulations.
 
Black Jack had thought about many things on the ship, but he was always distracted by work.

         
Here at the pa, nothing interrupted his thoughts. There was no threat of being called a daydreamer by a superior officer.
 
Black Jack was the supreme commander. Rather than wield his authority like a Genghis Khan, he became more like Buddha, spending his days in meditation and contemplation.
 
Eventually, he had devised the perfect solution for Robulla.

         
One day, the peace was disturbed by news from the north that a white man's ship had been shipwrecked on shore by a storm.
 
The word was that a less peaceful tribe than Black Jack's was in the process of harassing the survivors and looting the ship.

         
Black Jack remembered the Maori living in peace with the white man back at the whaling station.
 
He knew that that was not always the case, however.
 
He did not know who started the violence in times when there was trouble between Maori and Pakeha, but he wanted to find out first-hand.

         
Black Jack gathered a group of his warriors and set out for the shipwreck in his canoe.
 
He had a general idea of where it was; and he knew that he could get there in a day.
 
Traveling up the coast, his party soon encountered the delicate outline of the shore that curved in and out intricately to form a maze of sounds along the top of the South Island. He knew they looked like fingers on a map.
 
The tightly folded pattern of the bays made for slow going, as it significantly added to the length of land that they must sail by.
 
Eventually, they came upon the broken and battered barque.

         
Black Jack ordered his canoe beached out of sight of the stranded sailors to be safe.
 
He and his men saw a group of white people on the shore. The badly bashed bulk of the boat lay strewn in shallow water.
 
Black Jack led his men along the edge of the bush to a closer viewpoint. Much cargo had been dragged from the ship and opened along the beach.
 
The group of whites now huddled among the pillaged crates, burning a pile scrap wood for warmth.
 
They all looked despondent and fearful, except for one. A large, burly, black-haired man paced boldly back and forth, keeping watch for attackers.
 
Near him were a woman and two small children.

         
Black Jack recognized him as the man from the whaling station. It was Jackie.
 
Black Jack wanted to wave and shout out to him, but not in his full Maori garb.
 
It was an odd spot.
 
He wanted to help without starting a fight.
 
Besides, he hadn’t brought enough men to fight the other Maori.

         
Suddenly, a rustling in the bushes startled his group from behind.
 
Several Maori warriors from another tribe appeared and made their way toward the beach.
 
Before they got far, Black Jack called out to them.

         
"You there, what are you doing?"
 
Black Jack demanded.
 
They were all out of earshot of the whites.

         
The other warriors whipped around.
 
Their leader said, "Who are you and what business is it of yours?"

         
Black Jack replied, "We are from Te Pukatea.
 
I am the Chief there, and these are my warriors.
 
We have come to help the white men who are in distress."

         
The warrior responded, "Well, go home.
 
This is our territory, and what these Pakeha have is ours.
 
We have come to kill them and take what is left."

         
Black Jack said, “You will do no such thing.
 
Let these people go in peace.
 
They have done nothing to you.
 
If you harm them, believe me, you will have more trouble than you can imagine.”

         
The warrior said, “Ha!
 
From you?
 
We will kill you and eat you for supper.
 
Now go, before you anger me further.”

         
Black Jack said, “My son, I am a chief, and I could kill you so fast with my greenstone, that I could cut out your heart and eat it while you watched the last beat.
 
Now do not anger me.
 
I have told you what I want.
 
Go and tell your chief that these people are not to be harmed.
 
Is that understood?”

         
The warrior glared at Black Jack. He slowly signaled his men. The party retreated.
 
Black Jack and his men looked upon the pitiful mob on the beach. Satisfied as to their safety, they rowed for home.
 
It would be a long time before Black Jack learned their fate.

V

         
Back at the village, Black Jack began to think seriously about his fate.
 
Seeing the vulnerability of the whites on the beach that day had caused him to question his bizarre situation in this remote and exotic land.
 
He felt that he had matured enough to handle such a life, but he had grown up quickly.
 
He wondered if anyone else had a similar experience, with so much responsibility in such a strange situation. He thought about Robulla, and how their two destinies had become intertwined.

         
The shipwreck reminded Black Jack of Robulla’s inevitable return. His sense of urgency for devising a plan of action against the murderous chief increased.
 
Black Jack considered posting lookouts from his tribe to give early warning from down the coast. Thinking harder, it did not seem practical; because he knew that the chief moved faster than any word of mouth or running messenger.
 
When Robulla comes
, he thought,
he will speed swiftly up the coast and strike without warning.
 
Either that, or he will cruise right on by, back to Kapiti, not to be seen again for years
.
 
Black Jack could not afford to have that happen, he thought, before finding Kumari’s whereabouts.
 

On the way home from hunting one day, Black Jack and his men passed another canoe. Black Jack recognized some of the men as Robulla’s warriors, and he waved.
 
They acknowledged him briefly, and continued rowing.
 
Onboard the canoe were various other Maori men, women, and children in strangely marked clothes.
 
He asked his warriors what this was about. They replied that the people were slaves, captured in battle and bound for a prison camp at Kapiti.
 
Black Jack’s blood ran cold.
 
He could not believe that the practice of human slavery was being carried out in this beautiful land, and not by the white man.
 
Maori slaves for Maori,
he thought.
Don’t that beat all
.
 
It struck a deeper nerve than the cannibalism in his soul.
 
The killing, the eating, and the slavery. It’s all gotta end
, he thought.
 
The best way to convince his people, he reckoned, was to tell them about the evils of slavery back home.

         
Black Jack would arm himself with these words as weapons, along with the evidence that Robulla was still active down south, and return to his people for his final argument.
 
The solution still posed a dilemma:
 
If solving the problem meant killing Robulla, Black Jack thought, then that would constitute murderous revenge; and that would completely nullify all of Black Jack’s beautiful arguments.
 
He would then be a tyrannical hypocrite in the eyes of his people, he thought.
 
No, he realized, it was justice he was after, not revenge. If he was lucky, he might even convince Robulla as to the evil of his own ways.
 
But even with the backing of my people, how will I get Robulla’s attention?
He wondered.