Song of the Spirits Read Online Free PDF

reason she gave for her appearances there, the truth was that Kura had discovered love. The youth, Tiare, was courting her—and not as innocently as would have been expected among
pakeha
adolescents of her age.
    Gwyneira, who had once calmly tolerated the love between Ruben O’Keefe and her daughter, Fleur, was now alarmed. After all, she knew about the Maori’s loose sexual morals. Men and women were allowed to sleep together as they wished. A marriage was only considered sealed when the two shared a bed in the tribe’s meeting hall. The tribe did not care what happened before that, and children were always welcome. Kura seemed to want to take her cues from these customs—and Marama had made no move to interfere.
    Gwyneira, James, and anyone else with any imagination on Kiward Station were afraid of Tonga exerting his influence. Gwyneira hoped that Kura would marry a white man of her social standing—something Kura had no desire to hear about at the moment. The fifteen-year-old had gotten it in her head that she wanted to be a singer, and her exceptionally beautiful voice and pronounced musical talent certainly indicated that she had the potential for that. But an opera career in a new land like this, let alone one so thoroughly puritanical? In Christchurch, they were only just now building a cathedral, and railroads had only just begun to crisscross the rest of the country… Nobody was thinking about a theater for Kura Warden. Heather Witherspoon had naturally put ideas of conservatories in Europe in Kura’s head, telling her of opera houses in London, Paris, and Milan that were only waiting for a singer of her caliber. But even if Gwyneira—and Tonga—were to approve, Kura was half-Maori, an exotic beauty who everyone admired, but would anyone take her seriously? Would they see her asa singer or as a curiosity? Where would that spoiled child end up if Gwyneira sent her to Europe?
    Tonga seemed to want to solve the problem in his own way. Andy McAran was not the only one who suspected him of pulling strings when it came to Kura’s young love. Tiare was Tonga’s cousin; an alliance with him would have considerably strengthened the Maori’s position on Kiward Station. The boy had just turned sixteen, and, in Gwyneira’s estimation, was not the brightest lad. If Tiare—indifferent to all farm-related matters except the piano-tickling Kura—were to become master of Kiward Station, it would no doubt be the high point of Tonga’s life. But it was unthinkable for Gwyneira.
    “It won’t help to pack Kura off to Queenstown for a few weeks,” James said. “On the contrary. She’ll just have dozens of gold miners down on bended knee. Everyone will find her ravishing, she’ll bask in their compliments—she’ll only end up with a bigger head than ever. And when she comes back, Tiare will still be there. Even if you find some way to get him out of the picture, Tonga will find someone else. It won’t do any good, Gwyn.”
    “Still, she’ll grow older and wiser,” Gwyneira said.
    James rolled his eyes. “Do you have any evidence of that? Up until now, she’s only grown crazier. And this Miss Witherspoon isn’t helping. I’d send her back to England first, whether the little princess likes it or not.”
    “But if Kura digs in her heels, we don’t win either. We’ll just be driving her into the Maori’s arms.”
    James had sat down next to Gwyneira on the bed, and she leaned into him in search of consolation.
    “Why does everything have to be so difficult?” she sighed finally. “I wish Jack were the heir. Then we wouldn’t have anything to worry about.”
    James shrugged. “We wouldn’t need to worry if Fleurette were the heiress either. But no, Gerald Warden simply had to have a male heir, even through force. Still, I feel a certain satisfaction that he must be turning over in his grave right now. His Kiward Station not only in the hands of a half Maori, but moreover a girl!”
    Gwyneira had to