An alarm bird pierced through the silence of the valley floor. Its raucous call distant enough to rouse only one of the three hunters camped along a pebbled stream. Waru listened for the next parrot, tied in position near the valley entrance, closer to their camp. If this one sounded, he would wake his siblings to prepare for an attack on their location.

  He resumed cutting the rat meat but kept an ear out, carving up morsels for the trio of Pokai eagles concealed in the undergrowth. Sinew and bone split between his pounamu blade. Eager to get them fed, Waru had woken early to prep the rats.

  Stirred now, the juvenile pokai eagles each took turn voicing their disapproval at the disruption, cries restricted by hood and beak harnesses tethered to a low standing perch.

  A sudden cramp forced Waru up on his feet, and he hopped around on one foot until the pain reduced. Standing after so long feels good, he thought, before stretching, crick crack! Each twist of his back sounded like dry leaves trampled underfoot. He sat again, cross-legged this time, and resumed cutting up the rat admiring the surrounding terrain. Higher up in the valley behind camp where older kauri trees dominated, a fog had settled blanketing the forest. To the west, golden sunlight filtered through a clouded dale.

  Waru went over the battle plan again in his head. If the alarm cried because of Baby Eater, we'd be fighting in almost wet conditions. They must plan for the fog—no excuse to lose your prey because you can't see through the mist. he relaxed. He gathered up the meat and walked to the undergrowth where the eagles slept.

  As he approached, the brood dropped to the lichen carpet before he'd even flung the rat meat, ready to snap up the morsels. All three Eagles hatched from the same nest four summers ago. Two females and one smaller male. The females were faster to the meat and ate first, tearing into flesh with thumb-sized beaks. At four summers along they were almost big enough to hunt without a master, which meant they were ready to tackle the bigger game. He was pleased with their size, up to his shoulder in height, and twice his length in wingspan. It wasn't often his family were asked to hunt a man, if that's what this Baby Water was, excited to test the eagles this way and not on some cowering slave.

  Waru walked back into camp. His breakfast was preserved pigeon heated over stones from last night's fire. Dampened with water from his gourd, he pulled away the bark container to let the pigeon cool. As the hunt for this Baby Eater extended to the fifth day, he'd gotten used to breaking camp early due to an unusual sound or sign in the wood. His father had volunteered his seventh, eighth, and ninth children, to the chief of Matavai. Whitu, Waru, and Iwa, the best eagle-hunters in all of Kafiki island. What an honour it will be for this monster to die at the hands of such famed killers.

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  When the pigeon was ready, he ate quickly and quietly then stepped over to where his siblings slept and kneeled between them. He shook his elder brother's ankle and pulled at his sisters hair.

  Whitu sat up and yawned before praying, "Tāne, this day is yours to direct. Fill my mana with the warrior spirits of my ancestors, like so many totara of your forests. Direct my mana towards my enemies and let my Pokai fly straight and true to their target."

  "Did you warm the pigeon up seventh brother?" Iwa asked sleepily.

  SCREEEESCCRREEEEE… A second alarm bird cried out from down the valley.

  All three siblings rose to their feet and dressed. Iwa tied her hair back while she listened for any further notice. The fire was covered and breakfast hidden in the bracken where the weapons lay, away from the sibling eagles. Whitu picked up his spear and pointed it off-trail towards the least dense section of the forest. As planned, whenever an alarm sounded this close to camp, they used hand signals to speak. Waru surveyed the area his brother meant to rush. It was the least sparse section of the woods, and he wondered if they were better off to the right of the trail where the thicket would provide better cover. Whitu turned to him for assent.

  He nodded back and pointed his club to a denser section of the forest, before turning to Iwa, who pointed her spear in between their two positions. Their attack plan gave more time for the flank to spread themselves and the eagles to cover a greater range. It made sense for animals.

  But something about the length of time between alarms left a tightness in his stomach. There was no chance of change now despite this concern and he cursed himself, except this time it was audible. His sister and brother turned to glare at him before returning their attention to the forest ahead. You've done it now! What if it is the Baby Eater killing off alarms you fool?

  Iwa, axe in hand, moved silently into position while he fell back towards the undergrowth where the eagles waited. He quickly released each Pokai from individual tethers tied to the perch, before sliding off the flax-fibered hoods. Whitu in the lead now gripped his barbed short-spear and began a sprint towards the direction of the alarm birds. Iwa followed soon after. An angled run away from Whitu towards the lower ground alongside the slow-moving stream. He watched his siblings, envying their speed while he removed a whalebone flute tied around his neck. He blew a high pitched note three times sending all three eagles in a fit of squawks before they leapt into the skies above the forest canopy. He ran at half-pace, spear in hand, watching up at the shadows of the eagles above him down the valley to wait for his call.