In the Land of the Long White Cloud

much for him.”
    “Well, then we’ll hope for the best. Don’t take this business lightly, Mrs. Warden. The way it looks, he shot the man straight in the chest. And O’Keefe, the witnesses generally all agree, was practically unarmed.”
    “But he did provoke him,” said Helen. “My husband, God rest his soul, knew how to provoke a person, Sheriff. And the boy was undoubtedly no longer sober.”
    “Perhaps the boy could not fully appreciate the situation,” George Greenwood added. “The death of his grandfather had completely unmoored him. And when he saw Howard O’Keefe reaching for a gun…”
    “You don’t really mean to lay the blame on the victim!” the police chief reprimanded them sternly. “That old hunting rifle was hardly a threat.”
    “That’s true,” George conceded. “What I wanted to say was rather…well, they were highly unfortunate circumstances. This stupidbar fight, the horrible accident. We all should have interceded. But I think the investigation can wait until Paul comes back.”
    “
If
he comes back,” Hanson barked. “I’ve got half a mind to send out a search party.”
    “I’m happy to put my men at your disposal,” Gwyneira said. “Believe me—I too would prefer to see my son in your safekeeping than out there alone in the highlands. In addition, he can’t expect to receive any help from the Maori.”

    She was certainly right about that. Although the sheriff delayed the investigation and did not make the mistake of pulling the sheep baron’s workers away during sheep shearing season to form a search party, Tonga did not accept the situation so easily. Paul had Marama. Regardless of whether she had gone with him of her own free will or not, Paul had the girl Tonga wanted. And now, finally, the walls of the
pakeha
houses were no longer protecting him. They were no longer the rich livestock farmer and the Maori boy that no one took seriously. Now they were just two men in the highlands. Paul was fair game for Tonga. For now, he waited. He was not as dumb as the whites, setting off blindly after a fugitive. He would eventually learn where Paul and Marama were hiding. And then he would go after them.

    Gwyneira and Helen buried Gerald Warden and Howard O’Keefe. Afterward, both resumed their lives, though little changed for Gwyneira. She organized the sheep shearing and made the Maori a peace offer.
    With Reti as her interpreter, she strolled into the village and began negotiations.
    “You will have the land your village stands on,” she explained, smiling uneasily. Tonga stood across from her with a fixed expression, leaning on the Sacred Ax that was a symbol of his chieftain’s status. “Beyond that, we will have to work something out. I do not havemuch in the way of paper money right now—after the sheep shearing, though, that will change for the better, and perhaps we can also sell some of our investments. I still have not finished going through Mr. Warden’s assets. Otherwise…what would you think of the land between our fenced-in pastures and O’Keefe Station?”
    Tonga raised an eyebrow. “Mrs. Warden, I appreciate your efforts, but I’m not stupid. I know very well that you are in no position to make any offers. You are not the inheritor of Kiward Station—in reality the farm belongs to your son, Paul. And you do not seriously mean to claim that he’s authorized you to negotiate on his behalf?”
    Gwyneira lowered her eyes. “No, he didn’t. But, Tonga, we live here together. And we’ve always lived in peace.”
    “Your son broke that peace,” Tonga said harshly. “He’s insulted my people…moreover, Mr. Warden cheated my people. That was long ago, I know, but it took us a long time to find out. So far no apology has been made.”
    “I apologize!” said Gwyneira.
    “You do not bear the Sacred Ax! I accept you completely, Mrs. Warden, as
tohunga
. You understand more about raising sheep than most of your men. But in the eyes of the law you are nothing and have nothing.” He gestured to a little girl playing nearby. “Can this child speak for the Kai Tahu? No. So little do you speak, Mrs. Warden, for the Warden tribe.”
    “But what will we do, then?” Gwyn asked desperately.
    “The same as before. We are in a state of war. We will not help you. On the contrary, we will harm you as much as we can. Don’t you wonder why no one will shear your sheep? We did that. We will also close off your streets, block the transportation of