The Whale Rider Page 18

She was the whale rider. Astride the whale she felt the sting of the surf and rain upon her face. On either side the younger whales were escorting their leader through the surf. They broke through into deeper water.

Her heart was pounding. She saw that now she was surrounded by the whale herd. Every now and then, one of the whales would come to rub alongside the ancient leader. Slowly, the herd made its way to the open sea.

She was Kahutia Te Rangi. She felt a shiver running down the whale and, instinctively, she placed her head against its skin and closed her eyes. The whale descended in a shallow dive and the water was like streaming silk. A few seconds later the whale surfaced, gently spouting.

Her face was wet with sea and tears. The whales were gathering speed, leaving the land behind. She took a quick look and saw headlights far away. Then she felt that same shiver again, and again placed her head against the whale’s skin. This time when the whale dived, it stayed underwater longer. But Kahu had made a discovery. Where her face was pressed the whale had opened up a small breathing chamber.

She was Paikea. In the deepening ocean the fury of the storm was abating. The whale’s motions were stronger. As it rose from the sea, its spout was a silver jet in the night sky. Then it dived a third time, and the pressure on her eardrums indicated to the young girl that this was a longer dive than the first two had been. And she knew that the next time would be forever.

She was serene. When the whale broke the surface she made her farewell to sky and earth and sea and land. She called her farewells to her people. She prepared herself as best she could with the little understanding she had. She said goodbye to her Paka, her Nanny, her father and mother, her Uncle Rawiri, and prayed for their good health always. She wanted them to live for ever and ever.

The whale’s body tensed. The girl felt her feet being locked by strong muscles. The cavity for her face widened. The wind whipped at her hair.

Suddenly the moon came out. Around her the girl could see whales sounding, sounding, sounding. She lowered her face into the whale and closed her eyes. ‘I am not afraid to die,’ she whispered to herself.

The whale’s body arched and then slid into a steep dive. The water hissed and surged over the girl. The huge flukes seemed to stand on the surface of the sea, stroking at the rain-drenched sky. Then slowly, they too slid beneath the surface.

She was Kahutia Te Rangi. She was Paikea. She was the whale rider.

Hui e, haumi e, taiki e. Let it be done.

The tribe was weeping on the beach. The storm was leaving with Kahu. Nanny Flowers’ heart was racing and her tears were streaming down her face. She reached into her pockets for a handkerchief. Her fingers curled around a carved stone. She took it out and gave it to Koro Apirana.

‘Which of the boys?’ he gasped in grief. ‘Which of the —’

Nanny Flowers was pointing out to sea. Her face was filled with emotion as she cried out to Kahu. The old man understood. He raised his arms as if to claw down the sky upon him.