Lands of Red and Gold, Act II
- Thread starter Jared
- Start date
Effectively a goalkeeper, although the actual Gunnagal word for goalkeeper is used for the attacking player behind the goalposts.
The way it works is that if a ball is kicked between the goalposts and caught on the full by the "keeper" (of the attacking team) it's worth an extra point. The "interferer" has the job of stopping it being caught on the full. They're not meant to directly push, tackle or otherwise stop the keeper, but they can hold their ground. (This is one of the areas where the rules for fouls are extremely complex.)
In practice, kickers usually try to aim high, and the ball is caught (if at all) by the person who can jump the highest. The interferer, of course, can simply bat the ball away rather than catching it.
Hmmm....
Seems to have been an awful long time since anyone felt the need to post anything. So perhaps I should ask a question:
What exactly does a Nangu great ship look like? From what I've gathered it seems to be something like a scaled up version of a Polynesian Voyaging canoe, (multiples hulls perhaps), with a steering rudder. Though for some reason, I am having a hard time forming a picture in my mind.
Seems to have been an awful long time since anyone felt the need to post anything. So perhaps I should ask a question:
What exactly does a Nangu great ship look like? From what I've gathered it seems to be something like a scaled up version of a Polynesian Voyaging canoe, (multiples hulls perhaps), with a steering rudder. Though for some reason, I am having a hard time forming a picture in my mind.
Yes, it has been a while since I posted an update. The next one will be the first (probably of two) post exploring more about the Maori and the Pakanga raids. It's almost done, but life keeps getting in the way of finishing it. The other instalments which are in various stages of preparation show a bit more about Gunnagalic religion, and what happens when the Atjuntja get hit by one epidemic too many.
For great-ships, think a largish catamaran: a twin-hulled vessel joined by a largish superstructure, with two decks in the superstructure, and most of the storage space (holds) in each hull. The steering rudder is traditionally built on the right hull. The large mast (with lateen sail) is built into the superstructure. Original (pre-contact) great-ships had just one mast; the Nangu started creating twin-masted vessels after European contact.
Lands of Red and Gold #93: Between The Shadows
Lands of Red and Gold #93: Between The Shadows
“E kore e hohoro e opeope o te otaota.” (A large force is not easily overcome.)
- Maori proverb
* * *
22 August 1666
Mahratta [Mallacoota, Victoria]
Black is the sky above, grey is the water below. The stars glitter above, as they have done since Tāne threw them up to adorn the form of Ranginui [sky father]. The three-quarter moon stands almost directly overhead, spreading monochrome light to illuminate the ocean surface below.
Four waka [war canoes] cut through the swell of the waves. Each main hull has been carved from a single tōtara tree, with a carved upright head added at the prow. No sails have been unfurled, for the waka are being paddled to war. Ten oarsmen sit in each waka, five pushing their oars into the water on each side, driving the canoes onward to the shore.
Quietly they move, as best they can manage, with grey moonlight to guide their path. As they near the shore, they dip their paddles more quietly into the water, pushing forward beneath the waves. Night and silence are their allies, being observed too early is their greatest fear.
When the shore draws closer, the moon’s light reveals land looming to the west, on their left as the waka glide over the waves. Vegetation of some sort covers the land, but in the dimness of moonlight only shadows and occasional treetops can be made out. Ahead looms a pale expanse of stone, rising from near the shore: the walls of a small fortified town.
The paddlers guide the waka along the shore, past the nearer stretch of wall, until an inlet opens up before them. Details are impossible to make out in the moonlight, but the waves break against shallow sand along most of the inlet; the warriors steer their canoes through the one open channel, into the calmer waters beyond. Low-lying islands are on their right, the town on their left as they steer their way up the channel to the docks.
Fortune is with them, or as most of the oarsmen would say, Tūmatauenga [god of war] favours them. The few guards upon the walls look not to the sea, but to the land, where raids of old have come from, be it highlanders from the north or death warriors from the west. The sea is not a place where they expect danger.
The waka ride silently along the water, past the moonlit walls, as the paddlers guide their vessels around a small promontory. The inlet continues upriver, with water that stretches away to fade into the greyness of moon-formed shadows, but the canoes go no further. Here, in the sheltered waters away from the open sea, are berthed a few small boats, though in the grey hours it is hard to judge whether they are for fishing or for ferrying people and goods further up the inlet.
The oarsmen pull the waka alongside the piers. They spring off the gunwales of each canoe, never jumping over the bow or stern, for to do so would be to break tapu [sacredness]. This is the most dangerous part of the raid, and they move quickly though quietly up the short road to the stone walls. Four of the raiders throw up grappling hooks – one needs a second try to secure it to the wall – and climb up the wall. Eight more follow, and then lower the first four down the other side, where they open the gate.
The forty Pakanga [raiders] take up positions, fifteen on the walls above, twenty-five in the gate below. They stand ready to hold the gates open, come what may. They have timed their raid well; scarcely have they gotten into position when the sun’s first rays appear over the waters of the inlet.
The dawn shows three larger ships under sail, navigating their way into the channel as soon as sunlight replaces moonlight. The sight of these ships is an unmistakable threat; shouts ring out across the walls, followed by beating drums that sound the alarm. Mahratta’s guards take up arms now, as do other men inside the walls. But now they find the Pakanga who have already seized the dock gate. No force of arms can push out those Pakanga who hold the gate open. The clash of weapons and cries of battle waft over the town, while outside the three ships pull up to the jetties, and more Pakanga jump ashore.
When those Pakanga reinforcements reach the gate, Mahratta’s fate is sealed.
* * *
The Māori had known of the great western land since Kawiti’s voyage in 1310. Toka Moana, they called it; the Land Ocean, as later Māori interpreted the word [1]. Much had come from there – crops, metalworking, literacy –but mostly it was known as a place of wealth.
The Māori were inveterate raiders, mostly among themselves, but there were always a few willing to share the experience with those beyond their shores. In recent memory, those raids had always been to smaller island groups, such as Wharekauri [Chatham Islands] and Motu Rānui (the island of much sunshine) [Norfolk Island]. Ancient raids had been launched against Toka Moana, but had long been abandoned due to the difficulty of raiding such a distant land, without any advantage in technology or numbers. That belief persisted long after the new crops allowed Aotearoa’s population to boom to a point where the Land of the Long White Cloud held more people than any single state in Toka Moana.
Māori interest in the western lands revived due to three factors. The first was the establishment of Plirism in Aotearoa. This process had begun long before, with the faith spread by Nangu traders, but it was accelerated when a Nangu priest successfully converted the first Māori awiki iwi [king], Arapeta, in 1638 [2]. This conversion was accompanied by an important shift in views of raiding; King Arapeta converted in part to use religious grounds to put a stop to infighting between hapu [clans/subtribes] within his iwi [tribe/kingdom]. Instead of fighting within their own iwi, Arapeta’s warriors now began raid exclusively into the lands of other iwi. This marked the beginning of what would come to be called the Harmony Wars, a time of much-increased warfare between iwi, gradual consolidation into a smaller number of larger states, and religious warfare between Plirite, traditionalist and, later, Catholic groups. Defeated groups of Māori were displaced from their homelands, and often elected to raid overseas targets instead.
The second factor was the spread of fresh technology from Toka Moana. Beginning in the mid-1640s, some of the Nangu who had been displaced from the Island by famine migrated to Aotearoa. Most notable of these was the Kalendi bloodline, who had begun establishing a presence soon after Arapeta converted, and then migrated en masse after 1646, together with some of their political allies. Smaller groups of Nangu migrated elsewhere in Aotearoa during the latter part of that decade and into the 1650s. Many of these groups perforce joined traditionalist Māori iwi, since the Kalendi did not welcome non-allied Nangu, whom they saw as interlopers.
The Nangu refugees brought with them a suite of new technologies, most prominently ironworking and shipbuilding. The Māori had bronze metallurgy, but did not have ironworking because they did not have much contact with the main iron-using westerners. Their bronzeworking had been limited because they lacked local tin sources; while Aotearoa had copper, the tin (or sometimes whole bronze) had to be imported from Toka Moana. Ironworking proved much more convenient since there were local sources of iron available, and the technology spread quickly. Māori society began to be transformed by the spread of iron weapons and tools, sometimes diffused by peaceful trade, but often by war.
The Māori had introduced the Nangu’s forefathers to the arts of Polynesian shipbuilding and navigation. Now, in one of allohistory’s ironies, the Kalendi returned the favour, introducing the Māori to the new shipbuilding techniques and navigational practices that the Nangu had developed, including building ships with metal tools, and chartmaking. The Kalendi also passed on the compass, an innovation which they had acquired from people even further west. Previously Māori waka were capable of making the voyage across the Gray Sea [Tasman Sea], but these new technologies made the journey to Toka Moana much easier.
The third factor which reawakened Māori interest in westerners was the decision by Tjibarr to recruit Māori mercenaries. In 1647, during a lull in the Fever War, Tjibarr sent a diplomatic mission to Aotearoa to obtain guest warriors (mercenaries) to help them in their war. Lured by the promise of wealth, many Māori served in the later stages of that war, and mostly fought well. When they returned home, these veterans told many tales of the wealth of the Tauiwi [3], tales which grew with every retelling. The Māori became ever keener to revisit Toka Moana, the land of glory and wealth.
The combination of these factors led to what history would call the Pakanga raids. Pakanga began as a Māori word for an organised conflict, but evolved into a term referring to going on an overseas voyage to raid for glory or wealth (preferably both). The Pakanga raids were born from the fusion of displaced peoples, improved military and navigational technology, and tales of overseas wealth. The consolidation of Māori iwi led to displaced warriors who needed to find new lands; during periods of peace, this also led to restless warriors who raided overseas for glory and wealth since that was forbidden at home.
Tjibarr’s invitation reopened the allure of Toka Moana as a target for raids. Even before that, some displaced Māori had launched the first overseas raid. A group of defeated Ngati Tumatakokiri warriors launched a raid on Wharekauri in 1645, conquering those islands and settling there after enslaving or consuming the previous inhabitants. This marked the fourth or fifth Māori conquest of Wharekauri, depending on which version of oral history was believed. With the increasing warfare within Aotearoa, further Pakanga raids followed, at first against other island groups, but after Tjibarr’s invitation, against the Tauiwi in Toka Moana.
The early Pakanga raids on Toka Moana were aimed at the smaller Tauiwi polities, on the Cider Isle and parts of the eastern coast; the easiest places for the Māori to sail, and targets which they knew would be less well-defended. In Toka Moana – unlike the smaller island targets – the Pakanga were initially intent on obtaining gold, spices and other plunder, together with proving their mana. This changed with the increasing political consolidation in Aotearoa, leading to ever more displaced warriors who were not trusted in their former homelands, and who were therefore looking for new homes. Exaggerated tales of plague death among the Tauiwi led to the belief that Toka Moana was even emptier than it truly was. Inevitably, this meant that Māori began to look at Toka Moana as a place to settle, not merely raid.
* * *
The town of Mahratta [Mallacoota, Victoria] lies in one of the most isolated regions of agricultural Toka Moana. It is built on the mouth of a large, shallow harbour [Mallacoota Inlet] that has a few other small towns and villages built around its shores. The soils around the harbour are decent if not overwhelmingly fertile; the inhabitants make their living by farming around the harbour, supplemented by fishing. The land beyond the harbour is much less welcoming, however, with rugged, forested terrain that is difficult to traverse and even more difficult to farm. The peoples around the harbour have some access to bronze tools, but ironworking has not spread so far east, and so large-scale forest clearing is impractical.
Mahratta lies in land that is nominally claimed by the Yadji, but in truth, that claim is meaningless. The Yadji claim land much further east than they actually control; the nearest town where the Yadji do have a presence is Elligal [Orbost], nearly 150 kilometres away over the dirt tracks that pass for roads in such rugged country. Mahratta still protects itself with walls, principally against highlander raids, and partially as protection against any would-be Yadji reconquests or other migrating lowlanders. But its main defence has been its isolation and its lack of anything to make it a promising target; there are no spices or other things produced here which cannot be just as easily obtained in other places easier to reach. Gold was discovered nearby over a century ago – which first attracted Yadji interest in the region – but those small deposits have been long since worked out, and most of the gold removed through conquest or trade.
Unfortunately for the native Tauiwi who live in and around Mahratta, this very isolation makes them a target once the Pakanga begin shifting their focus from raiding to settlement. The Māori have long known about Mahratta, and even visited occasionally. They know that the rugged territory makes it difficult for any land-based power to attack. In particular, while the Yadji claim the region, their royal roads are what lets them move troops far and fast enough to be threatening, and the nearest royal road ends far away at Elligal. The highlanders might raid from time to time, but even they are not close enough to be a major threat. There is enough land around the harbour to be suitable for some farming, but not enough to be highly desirable to any other enemy, be they Tauiwi or Kehua [Europeans [4]].
The native Tauiwi who live in Mahratta call themselves the Kanunda, and speak a language related to the Tjunini who live on the Cider Isle. This closeness of language is one reason that the Pakanga choose this town, since some of them know the Tjunini language from trading visits to the Cider Isle. To the defeated warriors of the Ngati Ira iwi, and the few displaced traditionalist warriors from other iwi who join them as Pakanga, Mahratta offers the perfect refuge. Far from Aotearoa and the endless wars, and far from anyone else who might covet it. To them, Mahratta offers land for the taking.
* * *
23 August 1666
Mahratta [Mallacoota, Victoria]
Cerulean is the sky above, crimson is the ground below. A few clouds flutter above, but the children of Tāwhirimātea [god of wind and storms] only passingly interrupting the view of the form of Ranginui [sky father]. The noonday sun stands almost directly overhead, spreading too-bright light to illuminate the form of Papatuanuku [earth mother] below.
Four hundred Pakanga stride through the cowering Kanunda who are prostrate on the ground. Each Pakanga’s face has been carved in ritual moko [tattoos] that mark their status and their mana. No weapons are wielded, for the Pakanga have won their war. Ten times does each Pakanga stride back and forth amongst the conquered, pausing five times on each side of the assembly to shout their triumph on this alien shore.
Boldly they move, as only victorious Pakanga can manage, with vivid sunlight to illumine their conquest. As they pass each other in their crossings over the field of prostrate Tauiwi, they stamp their feet or raise their arms, proclaiming their valour to the sky. Pride and voice are their allies, having their deeds forgotten is their greatest fear.
While the march’s end draws closer, noon’s light reveals land bleeding beneath the Pakanga’s feet, or so it appears. Ankle-high grass covers the land, but under the brightness of noon daylight, patches of crimson colouration can be made out. The source of this hue looms high on one side of the field: the corpses of fallen Kanunda.
The Pakanga march back and forth among women, children, and a few old men who have been spared because they are no longer capable of bearing arms. No men of fit body have been left alive; those who were not killed in the fighting for the town have been brought out here for massacre afterward. The fallen have been dragged to the side of the field, with the bodies closest to the water, and the severed right arms of the fallen collected separately, farther from the water.
Victory is with them, or as most of the Pakanga would say, Tūmatauenga [god of war] favours them. A few of the Pakanga have fallen too, their bodies already interred separately, but most of them have survived. To their way of thinking, so long as they always expect danger, they will be best able to endure it.
One of the elder Kanunda starts to rise, perhaps in challenge, perhaps in plea. No-one will ever know the elder’s intent, for he is offered no chance to speak. The nearest Pakanga thrusts a taiaha [bladed staff weapon] into the elder’s chest, then strides on, leaving the elder to bleed to death on the ground, unregarded. No Kanunda dare come to his aid.
The Pakanga complete their victory crossings and take up positions, one hundred men on each side of the field. They stand ready to hold their ground, come what may. They have placed themselves well; any would-be escapees will find themselves facing warriors wherever they flee, and merely add to the crimson hue that stains this field.
Noon’s light illuminates two new Pakanga men, stepping out from Mahratta’s gate to stand on one side of the field. The rank of these men is unmistakable; their brilliant red and green feather cloaks and jewellery of gold and greenstone show their rank, as does the shouts of acclamation and bows from the assembled Pakanga. One of the new Pakanga speaks, using words that the Kanunda cannot fully understand, but sufficient for them to grasp the essential meaning [5]: the Kanunda warriors have been defeated, their arms will be smoked and eaten for the triumph of the newcomers, and the survivors are now the slaves of the Ngati Ira.
With this Pakanga proclamation, the Kanunda’s fate is sealed.
* * *
[1] “Land Ocean” is not the original meaning of the phrase Toka Moana; it started out as representing a rock that stood firm in even the wildest seas. The meaning of the words evolved to indicate a rock (land) so big that it took longer to cross than the ocean.
[2] See posts #61 and #64.
[3] Tauiwi (roughly, strangers) is the generic Māori name for the people of Toka Moana. It is used either as a catchall for all westerners, or in situations where the Māori do not know the names of the particular peoples who live across the Gray Sea. Generally, the Māori know the names of the three peoples (Kurnawal, Tjunini and Palawa) who live on the Cider Isle, know the Islanders, and sometimes eastern coast peoples, but are not very familiar with the rest.
[4] Kehua (originally meaning ghost or evil spirit) is the allohistorical name which the Māori have adopted for Europeans. The inspiration is because to the Māori, the pale skin of Europeans reminds them of the pallor of a corpse.
[5] The Māori chiefs are speaking Tjunini, one of the languages of the Cider Isle. The Kanunda and Tjunini languages are related, and somewhat mutually intelligible. However, the Māori accent makes some words difficult to follow, and the Tjunini also borrowed substantial vocabulary from the Palawa (the indigenous inhabitants of the Cider Isle), and so the meaning is often unclear.
* * *
Thoughts?
“E kore e hohoro e opeope o te otaota.” (A large force is not easily overcome.)
- Maori proverb
* * *
22 August 1666
Mahratta [Mallacoota, Victoria]
Black is the sky above, grey is the water below. The stars glitter above, as they have done since Tāne threw them up to adorn the form of Ranginui [sky father]. The three-quarter moon stands almost directly overhead, spreading monochrome light to illuminate the ocean surface below.
Four waka [war canoes] cut through the swell of the waves. Each main hull has been carved from a single tōtara tree, with a carved upright head added at the prow. No sails have been unfurled, for the waka are being paddled to war. Ten oarsmen sit in each waka, five pushing their oars into the water on each side, driving the canoes onward to the shore.
Quietly they move, as best they can manage, with grey moonlight to guide their path. As they near the shore, they dip their paddles more quietly into the water, pushing forward beneath the waves. Night and silence are their allies, being observed too early is their greatest fear.
When the shore draws closer, the moon’s light reveals land looming to the west, on their left as the waka glide over the waves. Vegetation of some sort covers the land, but in the dimness of moonlight only shadows and occasional treetops can be made out. Ahead looms a pale expanse of stone, rising from near the shore: the walls of a small fortified town.
The paddlers guide the waka along the shore, past the nearer stretch of wall, until an inlet opens up before them. Details are impossible to make out in the moonlight, but the waves break against shallow sand along most of the inlet; the warriors steer their canoes through the one open channel, into the calmer waters beyond. Low-lying islands are on their right, the town on their left as they steer their way up the channel to the docks.
Fortune is with them, or as most of the oarsmen would say, Tūmatauenga [god of war] favours them. The few guards upon the walls look not to the sea, but to the land, where raids of old have come from, be it highlanders from the north or death warriors from the west. The sea is not a place where they expect danger.
The waka ride silently along the water, past the moonlit walls, as the paddlers guide their vessels around a small promontory. The inlet continues upriver, with water that stretches away to fade into the greyness of moon-formed shadows, but the canoes go no further. Here, in the sheltered waters away from the open sea, are berthed a few small boats, though in the grey hours it is hard to judge whether they are for fishing or for ferrying people and goods further up the inlet.
The oarsmen pull the waka alongside the piers. They spring off the gunwales of each canoe, never jumping over the bow or stern, for to do so would be to break tapu [sacredness]. This is the most dangerous part of the raid, and they move quickly though quietly up the short road to the stone walls. Four of the raiders throw up grappling hooks – one needs a second try to secure it to the wall – and climb up the wall. Eight more follow, and then lower the first four down the other side, where they open the gate.
The forty Pakanga [raiders] take up positions, fifteen on the walls above, twenty-five in the gate below. They stand ready to hold the gates open, come what may. They have timed their raid well; scarcely have they gotten into position when the sun’s first rays appear over the waters of the inlet.
The dawn shows three larger ships under sail, navigating their way into the channel as soon as sunlight replaces moonlight. The sight of these ships is an unmistakable threat; shouts ring out across the walls, followed by beating drums that sound the alarm. Mahratta’s guards take up arms now, as do other men inside the walls. But now they find the Pakanga who have already seized the dock gate. No force of arms can push out those Pakanga who hold the gate open. The clash of weapons and cries of battle waft over the town, while outside the three ships pull up to the jetties, and more Pakanga jump ashore.
When those Pakanga reinforcements reach the gate, Mahratta’s fate is sealed.
* * *
The Māori had known of the great western land since Kawiti’s voyage in 1310. Toka Moana, they called it; the Land Ocean, as later Māori interpreted the word [1]. Much had come from there – crops, metalworking, literacy –but mostly it was known as a place of wealth.
The Māori were inveterate raiders, mostly among themselves, but there were always a few willing to share the experience with those beyond their shores. In recent memory, those raids had always been to smaller island groups, such as Wharekauri [Chatham Islands] and Motu Rānui (the island of much sunshine) [Norfolk Island]. Ancient raids had been launched against Toka Moana, but had long been abandoned due to the difficulty of raiding such a distant land, without any advantage in technology or numbers. That belief persisted long after the new crops allowed Aotearoa’s population to boom to a point where the Land of the Long White Cloud held more people than any single state in Toka Moana.
Māori interest in the western lands revived due to three factors. The first was the establishment of Plirism in Aotearoa. This process had begun long before, with the faith spread by Nangu traders, but it was accelerated when a Nangu priest successfully converted the first Māori awiki iwi [king], Arapeta, in 1638 [2]. This conversion was accompanied by an important shift in views of raiding; King Arapeta converted in part to use religious grounds to put a stop to infighting between hapu [clans/subtribes] within his iwi [tribe/kingdom]. Instead of fighting within their own iwi, Arapeta’s warriors now began raid exclusively into the lands of other iwi. This marked the beginning of what would come to be called the Harmony Wars, a time of much-increased warfare between iwi, gradual consolidation into a smaller number of larger states, and religious warfare between Plirite, traditionalist and, later, Catholic groups. Defeated groups of Māori were displaced from their homelands, and often elected to raid overseas targets instead.
The second factor was the spread of fresh technology from Toka Moana. Beginning in the mid-1640s, some of the Nangu who had been displaced from the Island by famine migrated to Aotearoa. Most notable of these was the Kalendi bloodline, who had begun establishing a presence soon after Arapeta converted, and then migrated en masse after 1646, together with some of their political allies. Smaller groups of Nangu migrated elsewhere in Aotearoa during the latter part of that decade and into the 1650s. Many of these groups perforce joined traditionalist Māori iwi, since the Kalendi did not welcome non-allied Nangu, whom they saw as interlopers.
The Nangu refugees brought with them a suite of new technologies, most prominently ironworking and shipbuilding. The Māori had bronze metallurgy, but did not have ironworking because they did not have much contact with the main iron-using westerners. Their bronzeworking had been limited because they lacked local tin sources; while Aotearoa had copper, the tin (or sometimes whole bronze) had to be imported from Toka Moana. Ironworking proved much more convenient since there were local sources of iron available, and the technology spread quickly. Māori society began to be transformed by the spread of iron weapons and tools, sometimes diffused by peaceful trade, but often by war.
The Māori had introduced the Nangu’s forefathers to the arts of Polynesian shipbuilding and navigation. Now, in one of allohistory’s ironies, the Kalendi returned the favour, introducing the Māori to the new shipbuilding techniques and navigational practices that the Nangu had developed, including building ships with metal tools, and chartmaking. The Kalendi also passed on the compass, an innovation which they had acquired from people even further west. Previously Māori waka were capable of making the voyage across the Gray Sea [Tasman Sea], but these new technologies made the journey to Toka Moana much easier.
The third factor which reawakened Māori interest in westerners was the decision by Tjibarr to recruit Māori mercenaries. In 1647, during a lull in the Fever War, Tjibarr sent a diplomatic mission to Aotearoa to obtain guest warriors (mercenaries) to help them in their war. Lured by the promise of wealth, many Māori served in the later stages of that war, and mostly fought well. When they returned home, these veterans told many tales of the wealth of the Tauiwi [3], tales which grew with every retelling. The Māori became ever keener to revisit Toka Moana, the land of glory and wealth.
The combination of these factors led to what history would call the Pakanga raids. Pakanga began as a Māori word for an organised conflict, but evolved into a term referring to going on an overseas voyage to raid for glory or wealth (preferably both). The Pakanga raids were born from the fusion of displaced peoples, improved military and navigational technology, and tales of overseas wealth. The consolidation of Māori iwi led to displaced warriors who needed to find new lands; during periods of peace, this also led to restless warriors who raided overseas for glory and wealth since that was forbidden at home.
Tjibarr’s invitation reopened the allure of Toka Moana as a target for raids. Even before that, some displaced Māori had launched the first overseas raid. A group of defeated Ngati Tumatakokiri warriors launched a raid on Wharekauri in 1645, conquering those islands and settling there after enslaving or consuming the previous inhabitants. This marked the fourth or fifth Māori conquest of Wharekauri, depending on which version of oral history was believed. With the increasing warfare within Aotearoa, further Pakanga raids followed, at first against other island groups, but after Tjibarr’s invitation, against the Tauiwi in Toka Moana.
The early Pakanga raids on Toka Moana were aimed at the smaller Tauiwi polities, on the Cider Isle and parts of the eastern coast; the easiest places for the Māori to sail, and targets which they knew would be less well-defended. In Toka Moana – unlike the smaller island targets – the Pakanga were initially intent on obtaining gold, spices and other plunder, together with proving their mana. This changed with the increasing political consolidation in Aotearoa, leading to ever more displaced warriors who were not trusted in their former homelands, and who were therefore looking for new homes. Exaggerated tales of plague death among the Tauiwi led to the belief that Toka Moana was even emptier than it truly was. Inevitably, this meant that Māori began to look at Toka Moana as a place to settle, not merely raid.
* * *
The town of Mahratta [Mallacoota, Victoria] lies in one of the most isolated regions of agricultural Toka Moana. It is built on the mouth of a large, shallow harbour [Mallacoota Inlet] that has a few other small towns and villages built around its shores. The soils around the harbour are decent if not overwhelmingly fertile; the inhabitants make their living by farming around the harbour, supplemented by fishing. The land beyond the harbour is much less welcoming, however, with rugged, forested terrain that is difficult to traverse and even more difficult to farm. The peoples around the harbour have some access to bronze tools, but ironworking has not spread so far east, and so large-scale forest clearing is impractical.
Mahratta lies in land that is nominally claimed by the Yadji, but in truth, that claim is meaningless. The Yadji claim land much further east than they actually control; the nearest town where the Yadji do have a presence is Elligal [Orbost], nearly 150 kilometres away over the dirt tracks that pass for roads in such rugged country. Mahratta still protects itself with walls, principally against highlander raids, and partially as protection against any would-be Yadji reconquests or other migrating lowlanders. But its main defence has been its isolation and its lack of anything to make it a promising target; there are no spices or other things produced here which cannot be just as easily obtained in other places easier to reach. Gold was discovered nearby over a century ago – which first attracted Yadji interest in the region – but those small deposits have been long since worked out, and most of the gold removed through conquest or trade.
Unfortunately for the native Tauiwi who live in and around Mahratta, this very isolation makes them a target once the Pakanga begin shifting their focus from raiding to settlement. The Māori have long known about Mahratta, and even visited occasionally. They know that the rugged territory makes it difficult for any land-based power to attack. In particular, while the Yadji claim the region, their royal roads are what lets them move troops far and fast enough to be threatening, and the nearest royal road ends far away at Elligal. The highlanders might raid from time to time, but even they are not close enough to be a major threat. There is enough land around the harbour to be suitable for some farming, but not enough to be highly desirable to any other enemy, be they Tauiwi or Kehua [Europeans [4]].
The native Tauiwi who live in Mahratta call themselves the Kanunda, and speak a language related to the Tjunini who live on the Cider Isle. This closeness of language is one reason that the Pakanga choose this town, since some of them know the Tjunini language from trading visits to the Cider Isle. To the defeated warriors of the Ngati Ira iwi, and the few displaced traditionalist warriors from other iwi who join them as Pakanga, Mahratta offers the perfect refuge. Far from Aotearoa and the endless wars, and far from anyone else who might covet it. To them, Mahratta offers land for the taking.
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23 August 1666
Mahratta [Mallacoota, Victoria]
Cerulean is the sky above, crimson is the ground below. A few clouds flutter above, but the children of Tāwhirimātea [god of wind and storms] only passingly interrupting the view of the form of Ranginui [sky father]. The noonday sun stands almost directly overhead, spreading too-bright light to illuminate the form of Papatuanuku [earth mother] below.
Four hundred Pakanga stride through the cowering Kanunda who are prostrate on the ground. Each Pakanga’s face has been carved in ritual moko [tattoos] that mark their status and their mana. No weapons are wielded, for the Pakanga have won their war. Ten times does each Pakanga stride back and forth amongst the conquered, pausing five times on each side of the assembly to shout their triumph on this alien shore.
Boldly they move, as only victorious Pakanga can manage, with vivid sunlight to illumine their conquest. As they pass each other in their crossings over the field of prostrate Tauiwi, they stamp their feet or raise their arms, proclaiming their valour to the sky. Pride and voice are their allies, having their deeds forgotten is their greatest fear.
While the march’s end draws closer, noon’s light reveals land bleeding beneath the Pakanga’s feet, or so it appears. Ankle-high grass covers the land, but under the brightness of noon daylight, patches of crimson colouration can be made out. The source of this hue looms high on one side of the field: the corpses of fallen Kanunda.
The Pakanga march back and forth among women, children, and a few old men who have been spared because they are no longer capable of bearing arms. No men of fit body have been left alive; those who were not killed in the fighting for the town have been brought out here for massacre afterward. The fallen have been dragged to the side of the field, with the bodies closest to the water, and the severed right arms of the fallen collected separately, farther from the water.
Victory is with them, or as most of the Pakanga would say, Tūmatauenga [god of war] favours them. A few of the Pakanga have fallen too, their bodies already interred separately, but most of them have survived. To their way of thinking, so long as they always expect danger, they will be best able to endure it.
One of the elder Kanunda starts to rise, perhaps in challenge, perhaps in plea. No-one will ever know the elder’s intent, for he is offered no chance to speak. The nearest Pakanga thrusts a taiaha [bladed staff weapon] into the elder’s chest, then strides on, leaving the elder to bleed to death on the ground, unregarded. No Kanunda dare come to his aid.
The Pakanga complete their victory crossings and take up positions, one hundred men on each side of the field. They stand ready to hold their ground, come what may. They have placed themselves well; any would-be escapees will find themselves facing warriors wherever they flee, and merely add to the crimson hue that stains this field.
Noon’s light illuminates two new Pakanga men, stepping out from Mahratta’s gate to stand on one side of the field. The rank of these men is unmistakable; their brilliant red and green feather cloaks and jewellery of gold and greenstone show their rank, as does the shouts of acclamation and bows from the assembled Pakanga. One of the new Pakanga speaks, using words that the Kanunda cannot fully understand, but sufficient for them to grasp the essential meaning [5]: the Kanunda warriors have been defeated, their arms will be smoked and eaten for the triumph of the newcomers, and the survivors are now the slaves of the Ngati Ira.
With this Pakanga proclamation, the Kanunda’s fate is sealed.
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[1] “Land Ocean” is not the original meaning of the phrase Toka Moana; it started out as representing a rock that stood firm in even the wildest seas. The meaning of the words evolved to indicate a rock (land) so big that it took longer to cross than the ocean.
[2] See posts #61 and #64.
[3] Tauiwi (roughly, strangers) is the generic Māori name for the people of Toka Moana. It is used either as a catchall for all westerners, or in situations where the Māori do not know the names of the particular peoples who live across the Gray Sea. Generally, the Māori know the names of the three peoples (Kurnawal, Tjunini and Palawa) who live on the Cider Isle, know the Islanders, and sometimes eastern coast peoples, but are not very familiar with the rest.
[4] Kehua (originally meaning ghost or evil spirit) is the allohistorical name which the Māori have adopted for Europeans. The inspiration is because to the Māori, the pale skin of Europeans reminds them of the pallor of a corpse.
[5] The Māori chiefs are speaking Tjunini, one of the languages of the Cider Isle. The Kanunda and Tjunini languages are related, and somewhat mutually intelligible. However, the Māori accent makes some words difficult to follow, and the Tjunini also borrowed substantial vocabulary from the Palawa (the indigenous inhabitants of the Cider Isle), and so the meaning is often unclear.
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Thoughts?
Great update as always. Like pretty much anyone else here I imagine, I'm really enjoying these Maori vikings.
I do have to wonder how much Maori settlement Mahratta will be able to take, since as you say, it is isolated and the area of land usable seems somewhat limited. And just quickly glancing at the area with Google Earth, there don't seem to be many other nearby settlements for the Maori to expand into.
I do have to wonder how much Maori settlement Mahratta will be able to take, since as you say, it is isolated and the area of land usable seems somewhat limited. And just quickly glancing at the area with Google Earth, there don't seem to be many other nearby settlements for the Maori to expand into.
Great update as always. Like pretty much anyone else here I imagine, I'm really enjoying these Maori vikings.
I do have to wonder how much Maori settlement Mahratta will be able to take, since as you say, it is isolated and the area of land usable seems somewhat limited. And just quickly glancing at the area with Google Earth, there don't seem to be many other nearby settlements for the Maori to expand into.
True, but it can be used as a base for further raiding. Vikings did that, too, once they started settling. It's a lot easier to raid a hundred miles up and down the coast from a secure base than to try doing it all the way across the ocean.
Mind, given that the Maori are all men, and will clearly be taking locals for wives/concubines/sex slaves, all the children will grow up speaking the local language. How likely is it that these 'norsemen' become 'norman' and assimilate to the local culture?
Are we going to get one of those ethological curiosities of a 'mens language' and a 'womens language'?
In addition to the 'viking' vibes, which are obvious, I also see some analog to ronin samurai.
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To the South Pacific and beyond!
Great update as always. Like pretty much anyone else here I imagine, I'm really enjoying these Maori vikings.
They are fun to write about too, although this instalment did take me some time to find the right voice to write it in, for some reason.
The land around Mahratta is somewhat more habitable than is suggested by modern OTL settlement. Colonisation happened relatively late, the land had no particular appeal over other targets, and was conducted in modern ships which made Mallacoota Inlet difficult to use (because of the shallows). In modern times, much of the surrounding land has been protected by national parks, so cannot be farmed even in the regions which are suitable.
That said, it's still not that great an area for settlement. There's plenty of scope for small settlements all around Mallacoota Inlet, and in some of the nearby (also isolated) inlets, but this won't lead to great cities or anything like that.
For the Ngati Ira iwi who conducted the conquest, though, that's entirely fine. There aren't that many surviving independent Ngati Ira - most of the rest have made their peace with their conquerers back home, or been enslaved - and Mahratta will hold them just fine. They aren't too worried about allowing other iwi to settle - in fact, they'd probably fight to keep them out.
Thanks. This was fun to write. And there will be at least one more instalment about the Pakanga, albeit probably written in a different style.
Mahratta does offer some scope as a raiders' base, though there are limits. The Ngati Ira won't mind other iwi stopping by before conducting raids elsewhere, but they will be suspicious of anyone who looks like they might be trying to conquer Mahratta. They also won't want Mahratta to become so notorious as a raiding base that the stronger powers - i.e. Yadji, or Europeans - decide it's worthwhile to stomp on Mahratta to stop it being used as such a base.
It's entirely possible, although the children may end up speaking both languages rather than just one. If I remember right, the closest OTL equivalent (Māori conquest of the Chatham Islands) didn't end up with people only speaking Moriori.
Possibly. Though this TL has something of that already in another part of the world, with the Congxie who effectively had a women's language for a while (being later incorporated into their general speech) due to the large number of First Nations women who joined their community, willingly or otherwise.
The odd thing is that apart from adding the actual name Pakanga, the way that the Māori are depicted here is pretty close to what happened in OTL when they invaded the Chathams. Including massacre, enslavement, and cannibalism. The ATL Māori cannibalism is in fact milder than the OTL version (the Māori ritually eat the right arms and sometimes hearts of captured warriors, but don't eat the whole person).
Of course, there's parallels both to Vikings going raiding, and Japanese wakō raiders/pirates, too. Some things just seem to show up all over the world.
Been Looking forward to this update and I wasn't disappointed.
I would think that due to difficulties of transporting gunpowder over distance between Aotearoa and Aururia that even if the Maori had guns, they wouldn't bring them on a raid and thus, they would avoid any place that have cannon, so European trading posts, areas with major Yadji garrisons and anywhere near them are all out.
It makes me wonder how the Yadji are going to respond Maori settlements. Would they try and launch military campaigns to dislodge them. Or would they be content if the Ariki paid lip service to their authority and paid tribute ie, like what happened in Normandy.
I would think that due to difficulties of transporting gunpowder over distance between Aotearoa and Aururia that even if the Maori had guns, they wouldn't bring them on a raid and thus, they would avoid any place that have cannon, so European trading posts, areas with major Yadji garrisons and anywhere near them are all out.
It makes me wonder how the Yadji are going to respond Maori settlements. Would they try and launch military campaigns to dislodge them. Or would they be content if the Ariki paid lip service to their authority and paid tribute ie, like what happened in Normandy.
While I didn't really touch on the details of Māori weaponry during this instalment, the Māori are currently going through a transitional phase in terms of weapons. Some of them have muskets, some don't. The losers in their internecine warfare (such as these), usually don't. So they wouldn't have many muskets to bring in any event.
Some other Māori groups do have muskets. They would still try to bring them on long-distance raids; powder could be stored in their new types of ships, albeit with difficulty. But they wouldn't rely on them, and would be prepared to fight without muskets. So yes, anywhere with fortified positions, much in the way of cannon, and so forth is generally avoided. The Māori are not there to make suicidal raids.
In the particular case of Mahratta, the Yadji have too many other things to worry about, for now. They never exercised any real authority over Mahratta anyway, and while it's somewhat embarassing to lose control over the place, risking a failed reconquest would be more trouble than it's worth.
Places closer to Yadji territory may be treated rather differently. One possibility is that the Yadji may encourage Māori to raid and settle in the new Kurnawal state that emerges in eastern Victoria during the 1670s. Have the Māori as nominal subjects, and let them become a headache for the would-be new Kurnawal prince.
Awesome update. Sorry to not comment earlier.
So will we see lots of Maori colonies spreading out across the regions of the Pacific? I remember seeing comments about Maori settling as far as the Andes
Potentially, there could be quite a few Maori colonies / conquests / protectorates / slave sources / targets across much of the Pacific. There's a lot of displaced Maori around, and they are keen to move. This is of course much like the OTL Maori Wars turned up to 11 (the Maori group who in OTL conquered the Chathams also considered other places such as Fiji), but with a lot more Maori and better navigational tech of their own, they could go quite far, quite fast.
In the short term, the Andes is probably a little far for a Pakanga raid/settlement - the Maori are mostly going to places that they already know exist, not exploring on the other side of the world. But as their knowledge and experience builds, who can say?
Either way it's going to be interesting to see this play out with the larger and more technologically advanced Maori. I could see the Pakanga become premier mercs outside of Aurrian circles too.
We've heard a lot about trade in various goods, but what about more abstract things. Like ideas, philosophy. religion, art, architecture, fashion, etc?
The Pakanga will certainly show up in some strange places around the world, potentially as mercenaries. Disease is always a consideration, since the Pakanga are still horribly vulnerable to many Old World diseases (not all of those diseases have reached Aururia yet). Of course, since many of the Pakanga are faced with the choice of flee or die (essentially), then they may well take that choice.
I wonder if there's any places in Asia which are hiring mercenaries at the moment?
There is some trafficking in ideas, but with the partial exception of religion, it tends to be much slower and much more sporadic than trafficking in physical goods.
There are a few reasons for this. The first is simply that the Europeans who are coming to Aururia, and Aururians who are going to the wider world, are mostly doing that to become rich, not to trade in ideas for the sake of it. So lots of would-be traders, mercenaries, freebooters and so forth, and not very many master artists, architects, or philosophers. Travel as far as Aururia is very dangerous - a lot of people don't survive the trip back and forth - so the sorts of people who go are those who are aiming for a profit if they survive.
The second is cultural barriers. Broadly speaking, Europeans see the Aururians as heathen savages, and do not really think that there is anything worth learning from them in terms of ideas, or anything really except valuable goods. Aururians do not have quite the same sense of cultural chauvinism, but there is still generally speaking a strong sense of themselves as superior, or at least as having the 'right' religion, architecture, fashion, etc.
The Five Rivers are a partial exception to this. Even then, the people of the Five Rivers are more interested in applied ideas than theoretical ones, so there is more trade in more medicine than philosophy, for example. Still, there is some trade even in the latter, Tjibarr continues to buy a lot of European books on a wide range of subjects, and this includes some translated Greek classics, and other such things.
The third reason is the language barrier. Trade in physical goods doesn't need much language in common (or in some historical cases, even any language in common, such as in silent trade). Acquiring familiarity with another language takes time and interest. Learning enough of a new language to trade in is relatively easy; learning enough of a language to discuss religion or philosophy is a lot harder.
So, thus far, while there has been some trade in ideas, it's been limited. Some knowledge of Christianity has permeated into some Aururian society, such as has been touched on re the Atjuntja (and also the Mutjing, though that hasn't been explored much yet). Plirism is starting to appear in places like New Guinea, and by now will have started to spread to the Xhosa and perhaps other places in southern Africa (one of these days I need to write an update on that, but lack of familiarity with the Xhosa has been a hindrance so far).
For fashion, there has been some trafficking in new forms of clothes, although this has tended to be linked to the introduction of new fibres; the Aururians don't just learn about cotton, they learn about how clothes are already made with cotton. Some of the luxury silks worn by (for example) Atjuntja nobles are imported as finished clothes, not just the basic fibres.
For architecture, there's been some slow diffusion of styles where the local people have observed (or helped to build) European trading outposts, but not much more yet. The other kind of architecture which has spread has been much more practical: fortifications (e.g. earth ramparts) have been upgraded to European styles to match the importation of European artillery.
For art, there have been a few European artists who have visited and created works which show Aururian landscapes and so on (Prince Rupert, for example), and who have learned about some of the better colour preparations that the Yadji make, but that's about all so far.
There will eventually be an importation of theatre and acting (I have a few ideas sketched out for that), but it hasn't happened yet.