The Tale of Hinekiwi and the Mischievous Pīwakawaka - Day 29

Kiran Reddy from Mount Eden

In a lush, green ngahere (forest) cloaked in mist, where ancient rimu and kahikatea trees reached to touch the sky, lived Hinekiwi, the small and humble brown kiwi. Hinekiwi was known for her quiet and hardworking nature. Every night, under the cover of darkness, she would dig through the soft soil with her long beak, finding juicy worms and grubs to eat.

Nearby lived Pīwakawaka, the mischievous fantail. With his flitting wings and cheeky nature, Pīwakawaka delighted in playing tricks on the other animals. Though clever and charming, he often pushed his games too far.

One evening, as the moon rose and bathed the forest in silver light, Hinekiwi was busy digging near the roots of a giant tōtara tree. She had found a patch of rich, damp earth teeming with plump worms, a rare treasure. As she carefully plucked one from the soil, Pīwakawaka swooped down, chattering loudly.

“Ah, Hinekiwi! What a feast you’ve found!” Pīwakawaka said, his voice light and teasing. “Surely you don’t need all those worms?”

Hinekiwi looked up, startled. “I worked hard to find these, Pīwakawaka. Please, let me eat in peace.”

But Pīwakawaka was not one to take no for an answer. With a flick of his tail, he darted down, snatched a worm from Hinekiwi’s beak, and zipped into the trees. Hinekiwi called after him, but the cheeky bird only laughed and disappeared into the shadows.

The next evening, as Hinekiwi searched for food, Pīwakawaka reappeared. This time, he didn’t just take one worm—he stirred up the soil with his wings, scattering Hinekiwi’s carefully dug treasures. “Such fun!” he chirped, leaving her with little to eat.

Hinekiwi was patient and wise. Though upset, she didn’t confront Pīwakawaka directly. Instead, she hatched a plan.

The following night, Hinekiwi ventured deeper into the ngahere to a place she knew well—a boggy patch near the edge of a stream, filled with fat worms. But this time, she made sure to spread word among the forest creatures that she had found an especially rich spot for foraging.

It wasn’t long before Pīwakawaka heard the news. Eager for an easy meal, he fluttered over. As Hinekiwi pretended to dig, Pīwakawaka darted down to steal a worm. But instead of finding soft earth, he landed in sticky, muddy clay! His wings flapped furiously, but the more he struggled, the deeper he sank.

“Help! Hinekiwi, help!” he called, his usual cheer replaced by panic.

Hinekiwi calmly approached. “Why should I help you, Pīwakawaka? You’ve stolen from me and made my hard work even harder.”

“I’m sorry!” Pīwakawaka cried. “I only wanted to have fun. I didn’t realize I was hurting you.”

Hinekiwi looked at the struggling bird and sighed. She was kind at heart and knew everyone in the ngahere played a role in the balance of life. “Very well,” she said. Using her strong beak, she dug around the sticky clay until Pīwakawaka was free.

From that night on, Pīwakawaka changed his ways. He still loved to play, but he no longer stole from Hinekiwi or anyone else. And when he saw Hinekiwi working late into the night, he would flutter close and chirp cheerful songs to keep her company.

The moral of the story:

Respect others’ efforts, for kindness is repaid with kindness — but mischief will stick to you like mud.