In the Land of the Long White Cloud

am I remembering that right?” George asked.
    Gwyneira nodded. “A very bright child. And Paul’s archenemy. Don’t ask me why, but they have been at each other’s throats since they were in the sandbox. I think it has to do with Marama. Tonga had his eye on her, but she’s adored Paul since they lay next to each other in the cradle. Even now, none of the other Maori want anything to do with him, but Marama is always there. She talks with him, tries to smooth things over—Paul doesn’t realize what a treasure he has there! At any rate, Tonga hates him, and I think he’s planning something. The Maori have been much more secretive since Tongastarted carrying the Sacred Ax. Sure, they still come to work, but they don’t work as hard, aren’t as…harmless. I have the feeling something is brewing—though everyone thinks I’m crazy.”
    George considered. “I could send Reti. Perhaps he could find out something. They’re no doubt more talkative with each other. But enmity between the leader of Kiward Station and the Maori tribe by the lake could end in disaster. You need the workers!”
    Gwyneira nodded. “What’s more, I like them. Kiri and Moana, my housemaids, long ago became friends, but now they hardly exchange a personal word with me. Yes, miss; no, miss—I can’t get anything else out of them. I hate it. I’ve been considering talking to Tonga myself.”
    George shook his head. “Let’s see what Reti can do first. If you undertake any kind of negotiations behind Paul’s and Gerald’s backs, you won’t improve matters.”

    George Greenwood sent out feelers, and what he found out was so alarming that he rode back to Kiward Station just a week later, accompanied by Reti this time.
    This time he insisted that Gwyneira take part in the conversation with Gerald and Paul, though he would have much preferred to talk with Gerald and Gwyneira alone. Old Warden insisted, however, on calling his grandson in.
    “Tonga has filed a lawsuit. In the government office in Christchurch, but it will ultimately go to Wellington. He’s invoking the treaty of Waitangi. Pursuant to which the Maori were damnified upon acquisition of Kiward Station. Tonga is asking that the deed of ownership be declared null and void, or at least that a compromise be reached. That means either a return of land or compensation.”
    Gerald gulped his whiskey down. “Nonsense! The Kai Tahu did not even sign the treaty back then.”
    George nodded. “But that does not change its validity. Tonga will demonstrate that the treaty has always been invoked in the interests ofthe
pakeha
. Now he’ll ask for that same right for the Maori. Regardless of what his grandfather decided in 1840.”
    “That ape!” Paul raged. “I’ll—”
    “You’ll shut your mouth,” Gwyneira said sternly. “If you had never started this childish feud, there never would have been a problem. Do the Maori stand a chance of pushing it through, George?”
    George shrugged. “It’s not out of the question.”
    “It’s even rather likely,” Reti joined in. “The governor is very interested in having the Maori and
pakeha
get along well. The Crown knows the value of keeping conflicts here within certain limits. They won’t risk an uprising over one farm.”
    “Uprising is giving them too much credit! We’ll grab a couple of guns and smoke the brigands out,” Gerald said, working himself up. “This is the thanks you get. For years I’ve let them live next to the lake; they could move around freely on my land, and—”
    “And have always worked for starvation wages,” Reti interrupted him.
    Paul looked as though he wanted to pounce on him.
    “An intelligent young man like Tonga could most certainly spark an uprising; make no mistake about it,” George said. “If he incites the other tribes, he’d start with the one next to O’Keefe, whose land was also acquired before 1840. And what about the Beasleys? Even not counting them: do you think people like Sideblossom pored over treaties before they pulled the Maori’s land out from under them? If Tonga starts looking at the books, he’ll light a fire. And then all we need is a young…” he gave Paul a look, “or an old hothead like Sideblossom to shoot Tonga from behind. Then all hell will break loose. The governor would be doing the right thing in supporting a settlement.”
    “Have suggestions already been made?” Gwyneira inquired. “Have you spoken with Tonga?”
    “He wants the land