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koe. McKinnon children, welcome to this, our marae. Bring with you the burdens of the time. Bring the spirits of your dead, that they may be greeted and mourned. We are honoured that you have arrived. As rangatira of Ngati Pono, I say that you may live here, and eat of our food and learn of our kaumatua, our elders, and sleep in the protection of our ancestors as long as you choose. You will not just be guests, but nga tamariki whangai, members of my family, and of our hapu. I have spoken.’
    Isla was mortified: Wira was the chieftain of the tribe, and she had gone out of her way to be offensive to him from the moment he had set eyes on her!
    ‘I’m verra sorry,’ she said to Mere later. ‘Should I no’ go and apologize?’
    ‘What for?’
    ‘For being so rude. But I didnae ken.’
    Mere shrugged. ‘It is not a thing to apologize for. He would have done the same had he been you.’ She smiled slightly. ‘He respects you for it. He admires children with…’
    ‘Mettle?’ Isla suggested doubtfully. Although it hadn’t been mettle that had made her so rude; it had been terror and rage.
    ‘Ae. Although you are not really a child, are you?’
    ‘I’m only just fourteen.’
    ‘But you look like a woman,’ Mere said, ‘so to Ngati Pono you are a woman.’
    Isla crossed her arms over her small breasts, pleased to note that the tenderness in them had finally receded.
    ‘And as a woman there are many things you must learn,’ Mere continued. Two small children sat in her lap, and when one of them yanked hard on her hair she said a few sharp words in Maori and pushed him away. Or her. It was difficult for Isla to tell because of the hair.
    ‘I have told you about what you must not do when you have the mate marama, but that is only the beginning,’ Mere said, shaking her head at the child who was determinedly trying to climb back onto her lap. ‘There is much more for you to learn.’ She smiled at Isla. ‘And perhaps you can teach me some things about your people.’
    Isla nodded, absurdly pleased. She had offered to help prepare the feast, which Wira declared would be held in honour of Ngati Pono’s new additions, and had felt slightly rebuffed when Mere had declined her offer. Now, she recalled why it wouldn’t do. ‘But can I help after that?’ she asked.
    ‘Of course you can. Everyone at Waikaraka has tasks,’ Mere said as she capitulated, picked up the misbehaving child and settled it on her knee. ‘It is the way a hapu works. A successful hapu, that is. And Ngati Pono are a very successful hapu. But, as I said, there is much for you to learn.’
    Isla knew her face was betraying her apprehension.
    Mere laughed. ‘Do not worry, you will learn as you go. And it will be much easier when you are able to speak our tongue.’
    But Isla had seen already that she, Niel and the twins would need to master Maori.
    ‘Is it easy tae learn?’
    ‘I thought it was, but of course it was my first language,’ Mere replied, her eyes twinkling with humour. ‘English was much more difficult.’
    ‘Aye, I thought so, too,’ Isla agreed.
    Mere’s dark eyebrows went up. ‘English is not your first tongue?’
    ‘Gaelic is. I didnae learn tae speak English ’til I wis five years old.’
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘Da thought we wouldnae need tae. But then me and Niel went tae the parish school and learned it, and Mam taught Jamie and Jean English and Gaelic, though they’re no’ so good at the Gaelic. They wisnae born on Skye.’
    Mere nodded. ‘Ae, the same thing has happened here. But do all people from Scotland speak Gaelic? I am sure that Mrs Henderson did not.’
    ‘Henderson is a Lowland name, and Lowlanders are no’ real Scots,’ Isla said, trying to suppress a faint sneer, which Mere nevertheless detected.
    She looked amused. ‘We have similar…distinctions here. Perhaps the Scottish are not so different from Maori after all.’
    Given that the village had had very little notice, the welcome feast was