Child of the Dawn Read Free Page B

to these Tahitian players. Come with us now to Porapora. We will bring you back here when the trouble is over."  
    Tepua took a deep breath and stared into his dark eyes. 'These Tahitians are now my people. I cannot dessert them."
    He gestured toward his warriors. "Then we must escort you to Matavai Bay."
    "There is no room!"
    The captain stared back with equal resolution. His men did not move from her path.
    "If you insist on protecting me," Tepua answered, "then I will stay here, with the craftsmen, while my Arioi friends go to safety. Let me give the orders."  
    At last, the warriors let her pass. She found Maukiri standing to one side, trembling. Tepua tried to comfort her. "Don't send me away," Maukiri insisted. "I can help you here. I can look after Te Kurevareva."  
    "Then take her out of her cage and hide her somewhere," said Tepua. Maukiri seemed glad to have something to do. She went off to fill a coconut shell with fresh water for the dog.  
    In a short while, all the costumed Arioi managed to crowd onto Tepua's vessel. At her insistence, Curling-leaf joined them. Aitofa had not returned, but Tepua could wait no longer. She told the canoe-master to depart.  
    The warriors and craftsmen, with their equipment and supplies, remained behind on the beach. A crosswind was blowing, making the canoe-master's task even more difficult. Tepua watched nervously as the sails were raised and the laden craft set out.  
    The lagoon was choppy, the sea beyond, heaving and gray, but the sturdy pahi had faced far worse. Tepua stood watching its departure as the sails grew smaller, rising and falling on distant swells. Gusts of wind tore at her hair and stung her face.  
    "Who are these invaders?" came a challenging voice from behind. She whirled, seeing that her guards had already brought up their spears. A turbaned Tahitian warrior was approaching at the head of his own group of men. Land-crab's guards had finally discovered their visitors!  
    Tepua strode forward, wishing she could find a single familiar face among the high chief's warriors. The leader of the canoe-builders began to speak, though the softer dialect of Tahiti sounded awkward on his tongue. He proudly proclaimed his coral island origin and the skills of his men.  
    The high chief's captain looked at him skeptically, then barked an order that sent a messenger running along the beach. The captain glanced at the armed visitors. "Savages," he muttered to the man beside him. "Atoll dwellers." Then, in a loud voice, he demanded, "Show us the rest of your weapons."
    The master canoe-builder pointed to the heap of adzes, tools with wooden hafts and heads of shaped black stone or shell. "We cut wood, not men," he answered.  
    "A sharp answer!" replied the warrior, laughing at his own wit. Then he waited silently for his messenger to return from the compound of the high chief, which lay above the beach near his sacred point of land. Tepua saw a runner coming from that direction, and then another. Even from this distance, she could hear the resonant note of the conch-trumpet being blown.  
    The warning cry of a herald rose over the fading echoes of the conch. "The high chief comes! From his home in the sky, he flies like the sea eagle to challenge the invaders. The high chief comes!"  
    A crowd of turbaned warriors ran out from the compound, lined themselves on either side of the high chief's path, and held up their spears. Land-crab came, riding the shoulders of his bearer, his appearance regal, his gaze fixed straight ahead. Tepua waited with curiosity as well as distaste for her first close look at the usurper.  
    The Tahitians who were wearing cloaks and wraps loosened their garments and bared their bodies to the waist. Seeing this unusual gesture of respect for the arriving chief, Tepua reluctantly removed her own cape. She watched the lead warrior hurry to meet Land-crab, then turn to walk beside his bearer.  
    Land-crab was a