For a moment no one spoke. Then one stepped forward.

‘I will go,’ she said. ‘It is a new land. Better to have kin scattered across it than gathered only in one place.’

Others came forward after her, including one of her friends, and one of her sisters. In the end five stood ready, and their families farewelled them — admiration mixed with sorrow.

Two days later, the waka set off back up the coast, carrying food for Tairoa’s people, five women of Ngāti Tairongo who had chosen to make the journey, and the promise of the alliance to come.

On reaching the village, Tairoa came ashore first. He was met at the water’s edge by the Thunder of the Hill.

‘Is it done?’ he demanded.

‘It is, my chief,’ Tairoa said. ‘They keep their word, and they are not a tribe to cross. I believe they are building something larger than themselves — a confederation of iwi. They have already sent five of their own women, as the first sign of good faith.’

The five women of the Ngāti Tairongo disembarked, carrying supplies of whale meat, seal meat, and eels, and were warmly welcomed.

Observing that his chief was still dubious, Tairoa spoke carefully: ‘We would do well to be bound to them by blood, rather than left to wonder what they might become without us.’

The Thunder of the Hill considered this, then nodded.

‘Very well. Let it be so.’ He called for volunteers.

The mood was easier than either tribe had expected. Some of the girls stepped aboard bravely, already curious about the strangers and their vast waka; others hesitated, embraced their families once more, then climbed in with heads high. There was singing on the beach as the waka turned back towards home, carrying five daughters of the Ngā Uri-o-Te Maunga-ariki. Left behind were the five who had come to take their place, and the supplies of life-saving food.

THE RISING TIDE — First Ten Chapters