



Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England




Waihoura, the Maori Girl, by W.H.G. Kingston.

________________________________________________________________________

________________________________________________________________________
WAIHOURA, THE MAORI GIRL, BY W.H.G. KINGSTON.



CHAPTER ONE.

THE NEW COLONY.

ARRIVAL OF THE FAMILIES OF MR PEMBERTON, FARMER GREENING AND OTHERS, IN
NEW ZEALAND.--INSPECT LAND.--ENCAMP NEAR THE PORT TILL THEY CAN SETTLE
ON THE LAND THEY HAVE SELECTED.

A fine emigrant ship, her voyage happily terminated, had just entered
her destined port in the northern island of New Zealand.  Her anchor was
dropped, the crew were aloft furling sails, and several boats were
alongside ready to convey the passengers to the shore.  All was bustle
and excitement on board, each person anxious to secure his own
property,--and people were running backwards and forwards into the
cabins, to bring away any minor articles which might have been
forgotten.

The water was calm and bright, the sky intensely blue.  On either hand
were bold picturesque headlands running out into the sea, fringed by
dark rocks, while beyond the sandy beach, which bordered the bay, on a
partially cleared space, were seen numerous cottages, interspersed with
tents and huts, many of the latter rudely constructed of boughs.
Further off arose forests of tall trees, reaching to the base, and
climbing the sides of a range of high mountains, here and there broken
by deep ravines, with sparkling streams rushing down them, finding their
way into a broad river which flowed into the bay.  Beyond the first
range appeared others--range beyond range, the summits of several
towering to the sky, covered with mantles of snow shining with dazzling
whiteness in the bright rays of the sun.  In several places the forest
gave way to wide open tracts, clothed with fern or tall waving grass.

"Here we are safe at last," exclaimed Valentine Pemberton, a young
gentleman about eighteen, as he stepped from one of the first boats on
to the ledge of rocks which formed the chief landing-place of the
settlement.

"Father, let me help you," he added, extending his arm towards a
middle-aged fine-looking man who followed him.

"Now, Lucy, take my hand; the rocks are somewhat slippery.  Harry, you
can look out for yourself."  He addressed his young sister, a fair
sweet-looking girl of about fifteen, and his brother, a fine active boy,
who sprang on to the rock after him.

"Take care of Betsy, though," said Lucy, not forgetful of her faithful
maid, whose attachment to her young mistress had induced to leave home
for a strange land.

"Paul Greening is helping her," answered Harry.

Mr Pemberton, with his daughter and two sons, soon made their way to
the more even beach, followed by Betsy and Paul Greening.  Paul's
father, farmer Greening, a sturdy English yeoman, with his wife and two
younger sons, James and little Tobias, as the latter was called, though
as big as his brothers, were the next to land.

"My boys and I will look after your things, Mr Pemberton," shouted the
farmer.  "Do you go and find lodgings for Miss Lucy and Betsy."

"Thank you, my friend," said Mr Pemberton, "but we have made up our
mind to rough it, and purpose camping out under tents until we can get a
roof of our own over our heads.  Before we begin work, however, I wish
to return thanks to Him who has guided and protected us during our
voyage across the ocean.  Will you and your family join us?"

"Aye, gladly sir," answered farmer Greening.  "We are ready enough to be
angry with those who are thankless to us when we have done them a
kindness, and I have often thought how ungrateful we are apt to be to
Him who gives us everything we enjoy in this life."

Mr Pemberton led the way to a sheltered spot, where they were concealed
by some high rocks from the busy throng on the beach.  He there, with
his own children and the farmer's family, knelt down and offered a
hearty thanksgiving to the merciful God who had heretofore been their
friend and guide, and a fervent prayer for protection from future
dangers.  Then, with cheerful hearts and strong hands, they returned to
the boat, to assist in landing their goods and chattels, while Valentine
and Paul went back to the ship to bring off the remainder of the
luggage.

Mr Pemberton and farmer Greening, meantime, set off to get the
surveying officer to point out a plot of ground on which they might
encamp, the rest of the party remaining on the beach to look after their
property.

While they were thus employed, a bustling little man, in a green
velveteen shooting coat, approached Lucy, who, with Betsy and Mrs
Greening were removing the lighter articles of their baggage.
Underneath a broad-brimmed hat, which he wore far back on his
bullet-like head, covered with short cropped hair, appeared a pair of
round eyes, and a funny turned up nose.

"Oh, Miss Pemberton, I am shocked to see you so employed!" he exclaimed.
"Let me assist you.  My own things will not be brought on shore to-day,
I am told, and I have no wish to go on board the ship again to look for
them."

"Thank you, Mr Nicholas Spears," said Lucy, who had already discovered
that the little man was never happy unless attending other people's
concerns, to the neglect of his own, and had no wish to encourage him in
his bad habit.  "My brother Harry and our friends here can do all that
is necessary."

"Oh, I beg ten thousand pardons, Miss Lucy, but I thought that I could
be of use to you.  It would be such a pleasure, believe me."

Mr Nicholas Spears rolled his round eyes about, and twitched his mouth
in such a curious manner when he spoke, that Lucy could scarcely refrain
from laughing outright.

"If you don't look after your own property, Mr Spears, I don't think
anybody else will," observed Mrs Greening.  "Just let me advise you to
go back in the first boat, and see if any of your goods have been got
out of the hold, or they may be sent on shore, and you will not know
what have become of them."

The little man seemed very unwilling to follow this wise counsel, but
hearing his name called by some of the other emigrants, he hurried away
to join them, and was seen running up and down the beach, carrying their
boxes and parcels.

Most of the other passengers had now come on shore, and were busily
employed in looking after their property, and conveying it from the
beach.

Valentine and Paul had just returned with the remainder of their goods,
and soon afterwards Mr Pemberton and farmer Greening returned,
accompanied by four dark-skinned men, dressed in shirts and trousers,
the few tattoo marks on their faces, and the shaggy state of their black
hair, showing them to be of the lower order of natives.  They brought
also a small dray, drawn by bullocks, with which to transport the
heavier articles of their luggage.

"Wherever you go, Mr Pemberton, with your leave, I and mine will go
too," said farmer Greening, as they walked along.  "We have been
neighbours in the old country, and you have ever been a kind friend to
me, and if I can be of any use to you in choosing land, which I ought to
know something about, why, you see, sir, it's just what I shall be glad
to do."

Mr Pemberton knew the value of the farmer's friendship and assistance
too well to decline it, and thanked him heartily.

He had himself gone through many trials.  After enjoying a good fortune
derived from West Indian property, and living the life of a country
gentleman, he found himself, at the time he was about to send his eldest
son to the university, and his second boy into the navy, deprived of
nearly the whole of his income.  Soon afterwards he lost his wife, a far
greater blow to his happiness, and believing that he could best provide
for his children by emigrating to one of the colonies, with the small
remainder of his fortune, he had embarked with them for New Zealand.

A cleared space on some rising ground overlooking the harbour had been
selected for encamping.  To this the property of the party was soon
conveyed.

Mr Pemberton had brought with him two tents, the largest of which
served as a store-house for his goods, and there was also space in it
for beds for himself and his sons, while a much smaller one was
appropriated to the use of Lucy and Betsy, which Lucy had invited Mrs
Greening to share with them.  The farmer and his sons, with the
assistance of the Maoris, as the New Zealanders are called, were putting
up a hut in which they might find shelter till the land they had
purchased had been fixed on.  It was composed simply of stakes driven
into the ground, interwoven with branches of trees, beams being secured
to the top, while other branches were placed on them and thatched with
long grass, an operation quickly performed by the Maoris.  Before dark
it was in a sufficiently forward state to afford shelter to the farmer
and his sons,--some heaps of fern, brought in by their active
assistants, serving them for beds.  While the pakehas, the strangers, as
the natives call the English, slept at one end, the four Maoris occupied
the other.

Before they lay down to rest Mr Pemberton invited them into his tent to
join in family worship, a practice he had kept up during the voyage, and
hoped in future to maintain under all circumstances.

"It's a great blessing and advantage, Miss Lucy, to be associated with a
gentleman like the Squire," said Mrs Greening, when they returned to
their tent.  "My boys especially might be inclined to run wild in this
strange country, if they hadn't the good example he sets before them."

"We, I am sure, shall be a mutual help to each other, Mrs Greening,"
answered Lucy.  "Your husband's practical experience in farming will
greatly assist my father and brothers, and I was truly thankful when I
heard that you wished to settle near us."

"We know what it is to have bad land, with a high rent to pay," observed
Mrs Greening with a sigh, "and I hope, now that we are to have a farm
of our own, with a kind soil, we shall get on better than we did in the
old country.  Few are ready to work harder than my good man and our
boys, and I have never been used to be idle since I was big enough to
milk a cow."

The following day Mr Pemberton and the farmer, accompanied by Valentine
and Paul, prepared to set off, with one of the Maoris as a guide, to
inspect a block of land lately surveyed, about ten miles from the coast,
with a fine stream flowing through it.

Before starting they surveyed from the hill the road they were to take.
At a short distance appeared the outskirts of the forests, composed of
the lofty kauri, or yellow pine, kahikatea, or white pine, the rimu,
with its delicate and gently weeping foliage, and several others,
interspersed by the shade-loving tree-fern, the most graceful of all
forest trees.  From the boughs hung parasites and creepers of brilliant
hues,--some, like loose ropes from the rigging of a ship, others, in
festoons winding from stem to stem, uniting far-off trees with their
luxuriant growth.

"How shall you be able to pass through that thick forest?" asked Lucy,
of her father.

"We shall have to make good use of our axes, I suppose," said Valentine.

"We shall find but little difficulty," observed Mr Pemberton.
"Although the foliage is so dense overhead, there is no jungle or
underwood to obstruct our passage, and in this hot weather we shall have
the advantage of travelling thoroughly shaded from the rays of the sun.
We shall find it far more fatiguing walking over the fern land, which,
at a distance, looks so smooth and even."

Mr Pemberton took his fowling-piece; but the only weapons carried by
the rest of the party were their axes, to mark the trees round the land
they hoped to select.  They expected not to be absent more than three
days.

Lucy and Harry accompanied them a short distance.  They found, on their
return, Mrs Greening busily employed with her sons in arranging the
hut,--indeed, the good woman was never idle, and set an example of
industry which some of the other settlers would have done wisely to
follow.  Leaving her boys to go on with the work, she commenced making
preparations for dinner.

"You must let me act as your cook, Miss Lucy," she said.  "You and Betsy
will have enough to do, and it's what I am used to."

The cooking, however, was of necessity somewhat after the gipsy fashion,
a pot being hung from a triangle over a fire on the ground, and when the
pot was removed the tea-kettle took its place.

They had no difficulty in procuring provisions, as there were several
bakers in the village, and the Maoris brought in pigs and wild-fowl, and
various roots and vegetables to the market.



CHAPTER TWO.

WAIHOURA.

NATIVES ARRIVE AT MR PEMBERTON'S CAMP.--THEY BRING WITH THEM ON A
LITTER A YOUNG GIRL--WAIHOURA APPARENTLY VERY ILL.--A DOCTOR IS SENT
FOR, AND A HUT IS BUILT FOR HER ACCOMMODATION.

"Oh mother! mother!  Miss Lucy!  Betsy! do look at the strange savages
who are coming this way," exclaimed little Tobias, as he rushed up to
the door of the tent the following morning.  "I never did see such wild
creatures, except once at the fair, and they were white men painted up
to make believe they had come from foreign parts.  There's no doubt
about these, though."

Lucy and her companions being thus summoned, hurried from the tent and
joined Harry and the two young Greenings, who were standing on the brow
of the hill, watching a band of twenty or thirty Maoris, who, emerging
from the forest, were coming towards where they stood.  At their head
stalked a tall savage-looking warrior.  His face, as he drew near, was
seen to be thickly covered with blue lines, some in spirals, others in
circles and curls of various devices.  His black hair was gathered in a
knot at the top of his head, and secured with a polished bone, while
several large rings hung from his ears.  Over his shoulders was thrown a
large mat cloak, which almost completely enveloped his form.  In one
hand he carried a musket, more on the present occasion to add to his
dignity than for use, as swords were formerly worn by gentlemen in
Europe.  His companions had their faces tattooed, though in a much less
degree than was that of their leader.  Some wore merely long kilts round
their waists, but many had cloaks of matting.  The hair of most of them
was cut short, looking like a black mop at the top of their heads.
Savages though they looked, they walked with a dignity and freedom that
showed they felt their own consequence and independence.  They were
followed by several women, also clothed in mats, though of a finer
texture than those of the men.  Their hair hung loosely over their
shoulders, and several wore a wreath of flowers or shells, which
assisted to keep it off their eyes.  Their faces were but slightly
tattooed, the chin, and lips only being marked, giving the latter a
curious blue look, which Lucy thought detracted much from their
otherwise comely appearance.  They were walking on either side of a
small litter, covered with boughs, and carried by four young men.

The party of natives advanced as if about to ascend the hill; but when
the chief saw that it was occupied by the tents, he ordered them to halt
at its base, and they immediately began to make preparations for
encamping, while the young men were sent off towards the woods to
collect fuel for the fires and materials for building huts.  The litter
having been placed on the ground, the women gathered round it, as if
much interested in whatever it contained.  The chief himself then
approached, and the boughs being partially removed, Lucy perceived that
its occupant was a young girl.  The chief seemed to be speaking to her
with tender interest.  At length, on seeing Lucy and her companions
watching him, he advanced towards them.

"Oh!  Miss Lucy, let's run away--the savage is coming, and I don't know
what he will do," cried Betsy, in great alarm.

"I am sure he will not hurt us, from the gentle way he was speaking to
the young girl," said Lucy, holding her ground, though she felt a little
nervous.

"He looks terribly fierce, though," observed Mrs Greening.  "But it
won't do to run away, as if we were afraid."

The chief, whose eye had been fixed on Lucy, now approached her, and
pointing to the litter, seemed to invite her to come down and speak to
his daughter, for such she felt the girl must be.  "Oh miss, don't go,"
cried Betsy.  "You don't know what they will do;" but Lucy, struck by
the appearance of the occupant of the litter, was eager to learn more
about her, and overcoming any fears she might have felt, at once
accompanied the chief.

The women made way for her as she got close to the litter.  On it
reclined, propped up by matting, which served as a pillow, a girl
apparently of about her own age.  Her complexion was much fairer than
that of any of her companions, scarcely darker, indeed, than a Spanish
or Italian brunette.  No tattoo marks disfigured her lips or chin; her
features were regular and well-formed, and her eyes large and clear,
though at present their expression betokened that she was suffering
pain.  She put out her hand towards Lucy, who instinctively gave her
her's.

"Maori girl ill, berry ill," she said.  "Tell pakeha doctor come, or
Waihoura die--pakeha doctor make Waihoura well."  Although the words may
not have been so clearly pronounced as they have been written, Lucy at
once understood their meaning.

"Oh yes, I will send for a doctor," she answered, hoping that Dr
Fraser, the surgeon who came out with them in the ship, would be found
on shore.  She beckoned to Harry, and told him to run and bring Dr
Fraser without delay.  The chief comprehended her intentions, and seemed
well pleased when Harry and Tobias, who also offered to go, set off
towards the village.

As no one addressed her, Lucy guessed rightly that the Maori girl was
the only person of her party who could speak English, and curious to
know how she had learned it, she asked the question.  "Waihoura learn
speak pakeha tongue of missionary," she answered, "but near forget now,"
and she put her hand to her brow, as if it ached.

"The doctor will come soon, I hope, and give you medicine to make you
better," said Lucy, taking the young girl's hand, which felt hot and
feverish.  Waihoura shook her head, and an expression of pain passed
across her countenance.  "We will pray to God, then, to make you well,"
said Lucy.  "He can do everything, so be not cast down, but trust Him."
The Maori girl fixed her large eyes on her as she was speaking,
evidently trying to understand her meaning, though apparently she did
not entirely comprehend it.

Savage in appearance as were the people who surrounded her, Lucy did not
feel afraid of them, while they evidently regarded her with much
respect.  Betsy having at length gained courage, came down the hill with
Mrs Greening.

"Poor dear," said the farmer's wife, when she saw the Maori girl.  "What
she wants is good food, a comfortable bed, and a little careful nursing.
If we had our house up, I'll be bound we would bring her round in the
course of a few weeks, so that that painted-faced gentleman, her father,
would not know her again."

"We would make room for her in our tent," said Lucy.  "Or, perhaps, her
friends would build a hut for her close to it; they probably would soon
put one up, and it would be far better for her to remain with us than to
return to her home."  The chief had been watching them while they were
speaking, and seemed to understand that they were discussing some plan
for his daughter's benefit.  He spoke a few words to her.

"What say?" she asked, looking at Lucy, and then pointing to her father.

"We wish you to stop here and let us nurse you," said Lucy, trying still
further to explain her meaning by signs.  The young girl's countenance
brightened, showing that she understood what Lucy had said, and wished
to accept her offer.  Perhaps the remembrance of her stay with the
Missionary's family brought some pleasing recollections to her mind.

While they were still speaking, a person was seen hurrying along the
somewhat dusty road which led from the village, and Lucy soon recognised
Mr Nicholas Spears.

"Has not he come yet?" he exclaimed, as he drew near.  "Dr Fraser, I
mean.  I met Master Harry, and that big lout Tobias.  I beg your pardon,
Mrs Greening.  I did not see you were there, and so I told them I would
find him and send him on; so I did, for I understood from them that a
princess, or some great person, wanted his services.  If he has not come
I must go back and hurry him.  Is that the princess?  She don't look
much like one, however, she may be a princess for all that.  Your
servant, Miss, and that old gentleman, with the curious marks on his
face, is her father, I suppose?  Your servant, sir," he added, making
the chief a bow with his broad-brimmed hat.

The chief bent his head in acknowledgment, and seemed somewhat inclined
to rub noses with the little man as a further sign of his good-will; but
Mr Spears sprang back in alarm, evidently thinking it safer to keep at
a distance from the savage-looking warrior; observing, however, the
confidence shown by Lucy and her companions, he walked round them once
or twice, gazing at them as if they had been wild beasts at a show.  As
he passed again near Lucy, she reminded him of his promise to look for
Dr Fraser, and much to her satisfaction, off he set at full speed.

In a short time the doctor was seen coming along the road, followed by
Harry and Tobias.

"Oh, Dr Fraser, I am so glad you are come," said Lucy.  "Here is a
sweet interesting Maori girl, and she is very ill, I fear.  Can you do
anything for her?"

"I am afraid, Miss Lucy, unless she can speak English, or we have an
efficient interpreter, there may be some difficulty in ascertaining her
disease, but I will do my best."

"Oh, she understands a little English," said Lucy, "and seems very
intelligent."

The doctor approached the litter, and stooping down, remained some time
by the girl's side, asking her questions, and endeavouring to comprehend
her answers.

"Unless I can have her for some time as my patient, I fear, Miss
Pemberton, that I cannot do much for her," he said at length.  "My
lodgings are very small, and I suspect that among the settlers there are
none who would be willing to receive her."  Lucy then told him of the
plan she and Mrs Greening had proposed.  "That would certainly afford
the best prospect of her recovery," he answered.  "If we can explain
that to her friends, perhaps they would be willing to allow her to
remain."

Lucy was very glad to hear this, for she already felt a deep interest in
the young Maori girl.

"There is her father," said Lucy, pointing to the chief, "perhaps you
can make him understand what we propose."

"I will try," said Dr Fraser, "but, if not, I must get Mr Clifton, the
surveyor, who speaks their language, to explain it to him."

The chief, who had been looking on all the time with an expression of
anxiety visible on his stern countenance, now drew near, and with the
assistance of his daughter, was made to comprehend what their new
friends proposed.  He stopped some time, apparently considering the
matter, and then having consulted with several of his companions, he
returned, and taking Lucy's hand, placed it in that of Waihoura, as if
confiding her to her care.

"But we must make them understand that they must build her a comfortable
house," said Lucy.  This the doctor managed to do without much
difficulty, and leading the chief up the hill, showed the position in
which he wished it to be placed.

The natives, who appeared to render implicit obedience to their chief,
immediately went off to cut timber.  The doctor, meantime, marked the
dimensions of the building, and showed the height he desired to have it,
which was nearly three times that of the ordinary native huts.

"We must have a proper door and a couple of windows, too," he remarked.
"The poor girl requires fresh air more than anything else, probably she
has been shut up in the smoke and heat of a native hut, and unless we
have one of a very different character, she will have little chance of
recovery."

Idle and averse to work, as Lucy heard that the Maoris were, she was
pleased to see the rapid way in which they erected the hut.  While some
dug the holes for the posts, and others cut them down, a third party
brought them up the hill.  They were evidently surprised at the size of
the building, and uttered numerous exclamations of astonishment when the
doctor made them understand that it must be in no respect smaller than
he proposed.  Harry, with James and Tobias, got their spades and
levelled the ground for the floor, rendering considerable assistance
also in digging the holes.

Among the articles Mr Pemberton had brought were several doors and
window sashes, intended for his own cottage.  Lucy suggested that these
should be unpacked, and a door and two windows be used for the hut.

"I am sure that my father will not object," she said, "and it will make
the house much more comfortable."

"I wish that all our countrymen had as much consideration for the
natives as you show, Miss Lucy," observed the doctor, "and I feel sure
Mr Pemberton will approve of what you propose doing."  The door and two
windows were accordingly fixed, the Maoris showing themselves very
expert carpenters.

The doctor having seen that the plan he proposed for the house was
likely to be properly carried out, returned to the town to get some
medicine, while Mrs Greening arranged a comfortable English bed, in
which his patient might be placed.

Before nightfall the hut was completely finished.  Mrs Greening removed
her own bedding to it, that, as she said, she could be at hand to attend
to the young native girl; and Dr Fraser having given her some medicine,
took his departure, promising to come back, early the next morning.

The chief showed by his manner the perfect confidence he placed in his
new friends, and leaving his daughter in their charge, he and his
companions retired to the foot of the hill, where they spent the night
round their camp fire.

Lucy sat for some time by the side of Waihoura, who showed no
inclination to go to sleep; she evidently was astonished at finding
herself in an English bed, and watched over by a fair pakeha girl
instead of her own dark-skinned people.  She talked on for some time,
till at length her words grew more and more indistinct, and closing her
eyes, to Lucy's satisfaction, she fell asleep.

"Now, do you go back to your tent," said Mrs Greening.  "I'll look
after the little girl, and if I hear any noise I'll be up in a moment
and call you or Betsy; but don't be fancying you will be wanted, the
little girl will do well enough, depend on that."

Lucy very unwillingly retired to her tent, and was much surprised when
she awoke to find that it was already daylight.



CHAPTER THREE.

IN CAMP.

DR FRASER ARRIVES WITH MR MARLOW, A MISSIONARY, WHO RECOGNISES
WAIHOURA.--HE PERSUADES HER FATHER TO ALLOW HER TO REMAIN.--RETURN OF
MR PEMBERTON, WHO HAS SELECTED HIS LAND, AND BEGINS TO SETTLE ON IT.--
THE FARM DESCRIBED.--HE LEAVES THEM AGAIN FOR IT ACCOMPANIED BY MR
SPEARS.--WAIHOURA RECOVERS AND LEARNS ENGLISH, WHILE LUCY LEARNS
MAORI.--A VESSEL ARRIVES WITH SHEEP, SOME OF WHICH THE DOCTOR BUYS, AND
ARE LOOKED AFTER BY TOBY.--LUCY TRIES TO EXPLAIN THE GOSPEL TO WAIHOURA.

"I am not quite happy about her, Miss Lucy," said Mrs Greening, when
Lucy, as soon as she was dressed, went into the hut.  "If she was an
English girl I should know what to do, but these natives have odd ways,
which puzzle me."

The young Maori girl lay as she had been placed on the bed, with her
eyes open, but without moving or speaking.  There was a strange wild
look in her countenance, so Lucy thought, which perplexed her.

"I wish the doctor were here," she said; "if he does not come soon, we
will send Harry to look for him."

"Little Tobias shall go at once, Miss," answered Mrs Greening.  "The
run will do him no harm, even if he misses the doctor."

Tobias was called, and taking his stick in hand, the young giant set off
at a round trot down the hill.

Lucy sat watching the sick girl, while Mrs Greening and Betsy made
preparations for breakfast.  Every now and then she cast an anxious
glance through the open doorway, in the hopes of seeing the doctor
coming up the hill.

"Oh! how sad it would be if she were to die in her present heathen
state; when should she recover, she may have an opportunity of learning
the blessed truths of the gospel," thought Lucy.  "How thankful I should
feel could I tell her of the love of Christ, and how He died for her
sake, and for that of all who accept the gracious offers of salvation
freely made to them.  I must try, as soon as possible, to learn her
language, to be able to speak to her."

Such and similar thoughts occupied Lucy's mind for some time.  At
length, turning round and looking through the open doorway, she saw
several natives coming up the hill.  She recognised the first as
Waihoura's father.  The party approached the hut, and stopped before the
entrance.

"Dear me, here comes some of those savage-looking natives," exclaimed
Mrs Greening.  "What shall we say to them?  I hope they are not come to
take the poor little girl away."

"I will try and make them understand that we have sent for the doctor,
and that if they wish her to recover, they must let her remain under his
charge," said Lucy, rising and going to the door.  Though still feeling
somewhat nervous in the presence of the Maoris, her anxiety to benefit
Waihoura gave her courage, and she endeavoured, by signs, to make the
chief understand what she wished.  She then led him to the bedside of
his daughter, who lay as unconscious as before.  He stood for some time
gazing down at her, the working of his countenance showing his anxiety.

Lucy felt greatly relieved on hearing Toby's voice shouting out, "The
doctor's a-coming mother, I ran on before to tell you, and there's a
gentleman with him who knows how to talk to the savages."

In a short time the doctor arrived, accompanied by an Englishman of
middle age, with a remarkably intelligent and benignant expression of
countenance.

"Mr Marlow kindly agreed to come with me," said Dr Fraser.  "He
understands the Maori language, and I shall now be able to communicate
with my patient, and to explain to her friends what is necessary to be
done to afford her a prospect of recovery."

"I am afraid she is very ill," said Lucy, as she led the doctor and Mr
Marlow into the hut.  The latter addressed the young girl in a low
gentle voice.  At first she paid no attention, but at length her eyes
brightened and her lips moved.  Mr Marlow continued speaking, a smile
lighted up her countenance.  She replied, and taking his hand, pressed
it to her lips.

"I thought so," he said, turning to Lucy, "we are old acquaintances.
When still a child, she was for a short time at my missionary school,
but her father resisted the truth, and took her away.  Through God's
providence she may once more have an opportunity of hearing the message
of salvation.  We must endeavour to persuade Ihaka, her father, to allow
her to remain.  He loves his daughter, and though unconscious of the
value of her soul, for the sake of preserving her life, he may be
induced to follow our advice."

Dr Fraser, through Mr Marlow, put several questions to Waihoura, and
then administered some medicine he had brought, leaving a further
portion with Mrs Greening, to be given as he directed.

Mr Marlow then addressed Ihaka the chief, who seemed to listen to him
with great attention.  He told him what the English doctor had said, and
urged him, as he loved his daughter, to leave her under his care.  Ihaka
at first hesitated, unwilling to be separated from his child.  Mr
Marlow pressed the point with great earnestness, and at length the chief
signified his readiness to comply with the doctor's advice.

"Tell him if he restores my daughter, I and my people will be friends to
him and the pakehas, for his sake, for ever," he said, pointing to Dr
Fraser.

"The life of your daughter, as well as that of all human beings, is in
the hands of the great God who rules this world, and allows not a
sparrow to fall to the ground without knowing it," answered Mr Marlow.
"The doctor is but His instrument, and can only exert the knowledge
which has been given him.  To that loving God we will kneel in prayer,
and petition that she may be restored to health."

Saying this, Mr Marlow summoned the English lads; and Betsy, who had
hitherto kept at a distance, and kneeling on the ground, offered up an
earnest prayer to God, that if it was in accordance with His will, and
for the benefit of the young Maori girl, He would spare her life.  All
present earnestly repeated the "Amen," with which he concluded his
prayer.  The savages, during the time, stood round in respectful
silence; and, though not understanding the words uttered, were evidently
fully aware of the purpose of what had been said.

Ihaka once more entering the hut, Waihoura recognised him.  Taking her
hand, he beckoned Lucy and Mrs Greening to approach, and placed it in
theirs, as if confiding her to their charge.

"Please, sir," said Mrs Greening to Mr Marlow, "tell the chief we will
do the best we can for his little girl.  She is a sweet young creature,
and I little expected to find such among the savages out here."

"They have hearts and souls, my dear lady, as we have, and though their
colour is different to ours, God cares for them as He does for us."

The chief seemed content, and after again addressing the missionary, he
and his people took their departure.

"The savages are all going, mother," exclaimed little Tobias some time
afterwards, as he came puffing and blowing up the hill.  "I could not
feel quite comfortable while they were near us, and I am glad that we
are rid of them."

"We should not judge from outside looks, Tobias," remarked Mrs
Greening.  "As the good missionary said just now, they have hearts and
souls like ours, and I am sure that chief, fierce and savage as he
looks, loves his daughter as much as any English father can do."

Dr Fraser and Mr Marlow had before this returned to the town,
promising to come back in the evening to see how their patient was
getting on.

The consumption of firewood in the camp was considerable, as Mrs
Greening kept up a good fire in the open air for the cooking operations.
Harry and Tobias had brought in a supply in the morning, and Harry's
hands and clothes gave evidence how hard he had laboured.

"We shall want some more wood before morning," observed Mrs Greening,
turning to her sons.

"I am ready to go again," said Harry, "if James will stay in the camp."

"No; Master Harry, its my turn to go if you will stop behind," said
James.

"If you wish it I'll stay," replied Harry.  "One of us ought to remain,
or strangers coming up to the camp might be troublesome, and I would not
permit that."

While James and Tobias set off with axes in their hands, and pieces of
rope to bind their <DW19>s, Harry got his gun, and began to march up and
down on guard.  He evidently considered himself like a sentinel in the
presence of an enemy.  Now he looked on one side of the hill, now on the
other.  No person could have entered the camp without receiving his
challenge.

He had thus been passing up and down for some time, when he caught
sight, in the distance, of some persons emerging from the forest.

"Here they come," he shouted out, "Papa and Valentine, Mr Greening and
Paul, and the two natives who went with them."  He was examining them
with his spy-glass.  "Yes, it's them, and they will soon be here.  Pray
get supper ready, Mrs Greening; depend upon it they will be very hungry
after their long march."

Mrs Greening, aided by Betsy, at once got her pots and saucepans on the
fire.

Harry, though feeling much inclined to run down and meet the party,
restrained his eagerness.  "A sentry must not quit his post," he said to
himself, "though no harm will happen, I'll keep to mine on principle."

In a short time Mr Pemberton, with his companions, appeared at the foot
of the hill.  Lucy ran down to meet them, eager to welcome her father,
and to tell him about Waihoura.

"I am glad you can be of assistance to the young girl, and it is most
desirable that we should be able to show our friendly disposition
towards the natives," he observed.

"Oh, I do so hope she will recover," said Lucy.  "But I am afraid that
some time must pass before she is well enough to be moved."

"That would decide me in a plan I propose," said Mr Pemberton.
"Greening and I have settled our ground, and I hope that we may be put
in possession of it in a day or two; we will then leave you here with
Harry and Tobias, while we go back and build our houses, and make
preparations for your reception."

Lucy had expected to set out as soon as the ground was chosen; but as
she could not hope that Waihoura would be in a fit state to be moved for
some time, she felt that the arrangement now proposed was the best.

Mr Pemberton and farmer Greening were highly pleased with the ground
they had selected.

"We propose to place our houses on the <DW72> of a hill, which rises
within a quarter of a mile of the river," he observed.  "Greening will
take one side and I the other.  Our grounds extend from the river to the
hill, and a little way beyond it; when the high road is formed, which
will, from the nature of the country, pass close to our farm, we shall
have both land and water communication.  Close also to the foot of the
hill, a village probably will be built, so that we shall have the
advantage of neighbours.  Among other advantages, our land is but
slightly timbered, though sufficiently so to afford us an ample supply
of wood for building, and as much as we shall require for years to come
for fencing and fuel.  From the spot I have chosen for our house, we
have a view over the country in this direction, so that, with our
telescope, we can distinguish the vessels, as they come into the
harbour, or pass along the coast."

"We shall have plenty of fishing too, Harry," exclaimed Valentine.  "And
we may, if we go a little distance, fall in with wild boars and plenty
of birds, though there are none which we should call game in England."

"Oh! how I long to be there, and begin our settlers' life in earnest,"
said Harry.  "I hope the little savage girl will soon get well enough to
move."

"I wish we could be with you also to help you in the work," said Lucy.
"How can you manage to cook without us?"

"Valentine and Paul have become excellent cooks, and though we shall
miss your society, we shall not starve," observed Mr Pemberton.

"Our camp life is a very pleasant one," remarked Valentine.  "For my
part I shall be rather sorry when it is over, and we have to live inside
a house, and go to bed regularly at night."

This conversation took place while they were seated at supper on the
ground in front of the large tent.  It was interrupted by the arrival of
Mr Fraser, accompanied by Mr Marlow, to see Waihoura.

"She is going on favourably," said the doctor, as he came out; "but she
requires great care, and I feel sure that had you not taken charge of
her, her life would have been lost.  Now, however, I trust that she will
recover.  Mr Marlow will let her father understand how much he is
indebted to you, as it is important that you should secure the
friendship a chief of his power and influence."

In two days Mr Pemberton and farmer Greening were ready to start for
their intended location.  Each had purchased a strong horse, and these
were harnessed to a light dray, which Mr Pemberton had bought.  It was
now loaded with all the articles they required, and sufficient
provisions and stores to last them till their cottages were put up, and
they could return for the rest of the party.  By that time it was hoped
that the young Maori girl would be in a fit state to be moved.

"I will not let her, if I can help it, go back to her own people," said
Lucy.  "She will become, I am sure, attached to us.  I may be of use to
her, and she will teach me her language, and it will be interesting to
learn from her the habits and customs of the natives."

"Yes, indeed, it would be a pity to let the poor little girl turn again
into a savage," observed Mr Greening.  "I can't fancy that their ways
are good ways, or suited to a Christian girl, and that I hope, as Miss
Lucy says, she will turn into before long."

It had been arranged that Lucy and Betsy should take up their abode in
the large tent, in which there was now sufficient room for their
accommodation, the small one being packed up for Mr Pemberton's use.

The dray being loaded, the farmer went to the horses' heads, and the
young men, with the two Maoris, going on either side to keep back the
wheels, it slowly descended the hill.

"We shall not make a very rapid journey," observed Valentine.  "But we
shall be content if we come to the end of it in time without a break
down."

Harry felt very proud at being left in charge of the camp, and Tobias
promised that there should be no lack of firewood or water, while he
could cut the one, and draw the other from the sparkling stream which
ran at the foot of the hill.

"We shall do very well, never fear, sir," said Mrs Greening to Mr
Pemberton, "and as soon as you and my good man come back, we shall be
ready to start."

Just as her father had wished Lucy good-bye, Mr Spears, with a pack on
his back, and a stout stick in his hand, was observed coming up the
hill.

"Just in time, neighbour," he exclaimed, as he came up to Mr Pemberton.
"I found out, at the surveyor's office, where you had selected your
land, and I made up my mind at once to take a piece of ground close to
it.  As I am all alone, I have only bought a few acres, but that will be
enough to build a house on, and to have a garden and paddock.  With your
leave I'll accompany you.  There are several more of our fellow
passengers who will select land on the same block when they hear that
you and I have settled on it, and we shall soon have, I hope, a pleasant
society about us.  We shall all be able to help each other; that's the
principle I go on."

Mr Pemberton told Mr Spears that he was very willing to have him as a
companion on the journey, and that he was glad to hear that a settlement
was likely soon to be formed near him.  He was well aware that the
differences of social rank could not be maintained in a new colony, and
he had made up his mind to be courteous and kind to all around him,
feeling assured that all the respect he could require would thus be paid
him by his neighbours.  He at once gave a proof of his good intentions.

"Your pack is heavy, Mr Spears, and we can easily find room on our
waggon for it," he said, and taking off the pack, he secured it to the
vehicle which they had just then overtaken.

"Thank you, good sir, thank you," answered Mr Spears, as he walked
forward, with a jaunty elastic step, highly pleased at being relieved of
his somewhat heavy burden.  "One good turn deserves another, and I hope
that I may have many opportunities of repaying it."

Mr Pemberton had promised Lucy to send over, from time to time, to let
her know what progress was made, and to obtain intelligence in return
from her.  Notwithstanding this, she looked forward eagerly to the day
when he would come back to take her and the rest of the party to their
new abode.  Though she did her best to find employment, the time would
have hung somewhat heavily on her hands had she not had Waihoura to
attend to.

The Maori girl, in a short time, so far recovered as to be able to sit
up and try to talk.  She seemed as anxious to become acquainted with
English as Lucy was to learn her language.  They both got on very
rapidly, for though Waihoura had some difficulty in pronouncing English
words, she seldom forgot the name of a thing when she had once learned
it.  She would ask Lucy to say the word over and over again, then
pronouncing it after her.  At the end of a week she could speak a good
many English sentences.  Lucy made almost as rapid progress in Maori,
she having the advantage of several books to assist her, and at length
the two girls were in a limited degree able to exchange ideas.

No one in the camp, however, was idle.  Harry, who always kept guard,
was busy from morning to night in manufacturing some article which he
thought likely to prove useful.  Betsy either went with Tobias to cut
wood, or bring up water, or assist Mrs Greening, and frequently
accompanied her into the town when she went marketing; and sometimes
Tobias, when he was not wanted to cut wood, went with his mother.

One day he came back with the information that a vessel, which had come
to an anchor in the morning, had brought over from Australia several
head of cattle, and a large flock of sheep.

"I wish father were here, he would be down on the shore, and buying some
of them pretty quickly," he exclaimed.

"Could we not send to let him know," said Lucy.  "Harry, I heard papa
say, too, that he wished to purchase a small flock of sheep as soon as
he could find any at a moderate price.  I should so like to have charge
of them.  I have always thought the life of a shepherd or shepherdess
the most delightful in the world."

Harry laughed.  "I suspect when it began to rain hard, and your sheep
ran away and got lost in the mountains and woods, you would wish
yourself sewing quietly by the fireside at home, and your sheep at
Jericho," he exclaimed, continuing his laughter.  "Still I should be
very glad if we could get the sheep, though I am afraid they will all be
sold before we can receive papa's answer."

While the conversation was going on, Dr Fraser arrived to see Waihoura.
Harry told him that he would very much like to send to his father to
give notice of the arrival of the sheep.

"Would you like to turn shepherd?" asked the doctor.

"I should like nothing better, for I could take my books with me, or
anything I had to make, and look after the sheep at the same time; it
would suit me better than Lucy, who has a fancy to turn shepherdess, and
have a crook, and wear a straw hat set on one side of her head,
surrounded with a garland, just as we see in pictures."

"I suspect Miss Lucy would find home duties more suited to her," said
the doctor; "but if you, Harry, will undertake to look after a small
flock of sheep, I think I may promise to put one under your charge, and
to give you a portion of the increase as payment.  I was thinking of
buying a hundred sheep, but hesitated from not knowing any one I could
trust to to keep them.  From what I have seen of you, I am sure you will
do your best; and as your father and farmer Greening will probably
purchase some more, they will run together till they are sufficiently
numerous to form separate flocks.  If you will write a letter to your
father I will send a messenger off at once," said the doctor.  "Indeed,
so certain am I that they would wish to purchase some, that I will, when
I go back, make an offer for a couple of hundred in addition to mine."

The next day the doctor told them that he had purchased the sheep as he
had proposed, and he brought a letter from Mr Pemberton thanking him
for doing so, and saying that they had made such good progress in their
work, that they hoped, in another week, to come back for the rest of the
party.

"I am rather puzzled to know what to do with the sheep in the meantime,"
said the doctor.  "I cannot entrust them to natives, and there is not a
European in the place who has not his own affairs to look after.  What
do you say, Harry, can you and Tobias take care of them?"

"I cannot quit my post," answered Harry, though he was longing to go and
see the sheep.  "If they were sent up here, I could watch them, but I am
afraid they would not remain on the hill while there is better pasture
below."

"Tobias could take charge of them, sir," said Mrs Greening.  "And if we
had our old dog `Rough,' I'll warrant not one would go astray."

"Rough," who had accompanied farmer Greening all the way from England,
had mysteriously disappeared the morning of their arrival; he could not
be found before they had quitted the ship, and they had since been
unable to discover him.

"That is curious," said the doctor; "for this morning, when I bought the
sheep, a man offered me a shepherd's dog for sale.  I told him that
should he not in the meantime have found a purchaser, I would treat with
him in the evening after I had seen the dog.  Should he prove to be
`Rough,' I will not fail to purchase him."

Tobias, on hearing this, was very eager to accompany Dr Fraser.

"The old dog will know me among a thousand, and the man will have a hard
job to hold him in," he observed, grinning from ear to ear.

The doctor, after he had seen Waihoura, told Lucy she need have no
further anxiety about her friend, who only required good food and care
completely to recover.

"I must get Mr Marlow to see her father, and persuade him to allow her
to remain with you, and he may assure him very truly that she will
probably fall ill again if she goes back again to her own people," he
said.

Tobias accompanied the doctor into the town in the hopes of hearing
about his favourite "Rough."  He had not been long absent, when back he
came with his shaggy friend at his heels.

"Here he is mother, here he is Master Harry," he shouted.  "I know'd how
it would be, the moment he caught sight of me, he almost toppled the man
who held him down on his nose, and so he would if the rope hadn't
broken, and in another moment he was licking me all over.  The doctor
gave the man a guinea; but I said it was a shame for him to take it, and
so did everybody, for they saw that the dog knew me among twenty or
thirty standing round.  The man sneaked off, and `Rough' came along with
me.  Now I must go back and bring the sheep round here to the foot of
the hill.  There's some ground the surveyor says that we may put them on
till we can take them to our own run, but we must give `Rough' his
dinner first, for I'll warrant the fellow has not fed him over well."

"Rough" wagged his stump of a tail to signify he understood his young
master's kind intentions, and Mrs Greening soon got a mess ready, which
"Rough" swallowed up in a few moments, and looked up into Toby's face,
as much as to say, "what do you want with me next?"

"Come along `Rough,' I'll show you," said Toby, as he set off at a round
trot down the hill.

The party at the camp watched him with no little pleasure, when a short
time afterwards, he, with the aid of "Rough," was seen driving a flock
of sheep from the town past the hill to a meadow partly enclosed by a
stream which made its way into the sea, a short distance off.  "Rough"
exhibited his wonderful intelligence, as he dashed now on one side, now
on the other, keeping the sheep together, and not allowing a single one
to stray away.  It was a difficult task for Toby and him, for the sheep,
long pent up on board ship, made numberless attempts to head off into
the interior, where their instinct told them they would find an
abundance of pasture.  Without the assistance of "Rough," Toby would
have found it impossible to guide them into the meadow, and even when
there, he and his dog had to exert all their vigilance to keep them
together.  Harry was sorely tempted to go down to assist.  "I must not
quit my post though," he said.  "As soon as I am relieved, then I'll try
if I cannot shepherd as well as Toby.  It seems to me that `Rough' does
the chief part of the work."

The doctor had engaged a couple of natives to assist Toby in looking
after the sheep, but he was so afraid of losing any, that he would only
come up to the camp for a few minutes at a time to take his meals, and
to get "Rough's" food.  The Maoris had built him a small hut, where he
passed the night, with the flock lying down close to him, kept together
by the vigilant dog.  The Maoris were, however, very useful in bringing
firewood and water to the camp.

Waihoura was now well enough to walk about.  Lucy had given her one of
her own frocks and some other clothes, and she and Betsy took great
pains to dress her in a becoming manner, they combed and braided her
dark tresses, which they adorned with a few wild flowers that Betsy had
picked, and when her costume was complete, Mrs Greening, looking at her
with admiration, exclaimed, "Well, I never did think that a little
savage girl could turn into a young lady so soon."  Waihoura, who had
seen herself in a looking-glass, was evidently very well satisfied with
her appearance, and clapped her hands with delight, and then ran to Lucy
and rubbed her nose against her's, and kissed her, to express her
gratitude.

"Now that you are like us outside, you must become like us inside," said
Lucy, employing a homely way of speaking such as her Maori friend was
most likely to understand.  "We pray to God, you must learn to pray to
Him.  We learn about Him in the Book through which He has made Himself
known to us as a God of love and mercy, as well as a God of justice, who
desires all people to come to Him, and has shown us the only way by
which we can come.  You understand, all people have disobeyed God, and
are rebels, and are treated as such by Him.  The evil spirit, Satan,
wishes to keep us rebels, and away from God.  God in His love desires us
to be reconciled to Him; but we all deserve punishment, and He cannot,
as a God of justice, let us go unpunished.  In His great mercy, however,
He permitted another to be punished for us, and He allowed His
well-beloved Son Jesus Christ, a part of Himself, to become the person
to suffer punishment.  Jesus came down on earth to be obedient in all
things, because man had been disobedient.  He lived a holy pure life,
going about doing good, even allowing Himself to be cruelly treated, to
be despised and put to shame by the very people among whom He had lived,
and to whom He had done so much good.  Then, because man justly deserves
punishment, He willingly underwent one of the most painful punishments
ever thought of, thus suffering instead of man.  When nailed to the
cross, His side was pierced with a spear, and the blood flowed forth,
that the sacrifice might be complete and perfect.  Then He rose again,
to prove that He was truly God, and that all men will rise from the
dead; and He ascended into heaven, there to plead with the Father for
all who trust Him, and to claim our freedom from punishment, on the
ground that He was punished in our stead."

"Jesus sent also, as He had promised, the Holy Spirit to dwell on earth
with His people, to be their Comforter, their Guide and Instructor, and
to enable them to understand and accept His Father's loving plan of
salvation, which He had so fully and completely carried out."

"Do you understand my meaning," said Lucy, who felt that she had said
more than Waihoura was likely to comprehend.

She shook her head.  "Lucy not bad woman;" pointing to Mrs Greening,
"not bad; Maori girl bad, Maori people very bad," she answered slowly.
"God no love Maori people."

"But we are all bad when compared to Him--all unfit to go and live in
His pure and holy presence," exclaimed Lucy.  "And in spite of their
wickedness, God loves the Maori people as much as He does us; their
souls are of the same value in His sight as ours, and He desires that
all should come to Him and be saved."

"Why God not take them then, and make them good?" asked Waihoura.

"Because He in His wisdom thought fit to create man a free agent, to
give him the power of choosing between the good and the evil.  Why He
allows evil to exist, He has not revealed to us.  All we know is that
evil does exist, and that Satan is the prince of evil, and tries to
spread it everywhere throughout the world.  God, if He chose, could
overcome evil, but then this world would no longer be a place of trial,
as He has thought fit to make it.  He has not left man, however, without
a means of conquering evil.  Jesus Christ came down on earth to present
those means to man; they are very simple, and can very easily be made
use of; so simple and so easy that man would never have thought of them.
Man has nothing to do in order to get rid of his sins, to become pure
and holy, and thus fit to live in the presence of a pure and holy God.
He has only to put faith in Jesus Christ, who, though free from sin, as
I have told you, took our sins upon Himself, and was punished in our
stead, while we have only to turn from sin, and to desire not to sin
again.  We are, however, so prone to sin, that we could not do even this
by ourselves; but Christ, knowing our weakness, has, as He promised,
when He ascended into heaven, sent His Holy Spirit to be with us to help
us to hate sin, and to resist sin."

Lucy kept her eyes fixed on her friend to try and ascertain if she now
more clearly understood her.  Waihoura again shook her head.  Lucy felt
convinced that her knowledge of English was still too imperfect to
enable her to comprehend the subject.  "I must try more than ever to
learn to speak Maori," she said, "and then perhaps I shall better be
able to explain what I mean."

"Maori girl want to know much, much, much," answered Waihoura, taking
Lucy's hand.  "Maori girl soon die perhaps, and then wish to go away
where Lucy go."

"Ah, yes, it is natural that we should wish to be with those we have
loved on earth, but if we understand the surpassing love of Jesus, we
should desire far more to go and dwell with Him.  Try and remember,
Waihoura, that we have a Friend in heaven who loves us more than any
earthly friend can do, who knows how weak and foolish and helpless we
are, and yet is ever ready to listen to us, and to receive us when we
lift up our hearts to Him in prayer."

"Maori girl not know how to pray," said Waihoura, sorrowfully.

"I cannot teach you," said Lucy, "but if you desire to pray, Jesus can
and will send the Holy Spirit I told you of.  If you only wish to pray,
I believe that you are praying, the mere words you utter are of little
consequence, God sees into our hearts, and He knows better than even we
ourselves do, whether the spirit of prayer is there."

"I am afraid, Miss Lucy, that the little girl can't take in much of the
beautiful things you have been saying," observed Mrs Greening, who had
all the time been listening attentively.  "But I have learned more than
I knew before, and I only wish Tobias and the rest of them had been here
to listen to you."

"I am very sure my father will explain the subject to them more clearly
than I can do," said Lucy, modestly.  "I have only repeated what he said
to me, and what I know to be true, because I have found it all so
plainly set forth in God's Word.  My father always tells us not to take
anything we hear for granted till we find it there, and that it is our
duty to search the Scriptures for ourselves.  It is because people are
often too idle, or too ignorant to do this, that there is so much false
doctrine and error among nominal Christians.  I hope Mr Marlow will pay
us a visit when we are settled in our new home, and bring a Maori Bible
with him, and he will be able to explain the truth to Waihoura far
better than I can.  You will like to learn to read, Waihoura, and we
must get some books, and I will try and teach you, and you will teach me
your language at the same time."

Lucy often spoke on the same subject to her guest; but, as was to be
expected, Waihoura very imperfectly understood her.  With more
experience she would have known that God often thinks fit to try the
faith and patience even of the most earnest and zealous Christians who
are striving to make known the truth of the gospel to others.  The
faithful missionary has often toiled on for years among the heathen
before he has been allowed to see the fruit of his labours.



CHAPTER FOUR.

SETTLING DOWN.

RETURN OF WAGGON TO THE CAMP FOR LUCY AND THE REST OF THE PARTY, WHO SET
OFF FOR THE FARM.--SCENERY ON THE ROAD.--ARRIVAL AT FARM.--MR SPEARS
AGAIN.--PLANS FOR THE FUTURE.

"Here comes the waggon," shouted Harry, as he stood on the brow of the
hill waving his hat.  "There's farmer Greening and Val.  Papa has sent
for us at last."

Harry was right, and Val announced that he had come for all the lighter
articles, including Lucy and her companions, who were to set out at once
with farmer Greening, while he, with a native, remained to take care of
the heavier goods.

The waggon was soon loaded, leaving places within it for Lucy and
Waihoura, Mrs Greening and Betsy insisting on walking.

"Now Val, I hand over my command to you, and see that you keep as good a
watch as I have done," said Harry, as he shook hands with his brother.
"I must go and take charge of the sheep."  Valentine smiled at the air
of importance Harry had assumed.  "There's the right stuff in the little
fellow," he said to himself, as he watched him and young Tobias driving
the sheep in the direction the waggon had taken.

Lucy was delighted with the appearance of the country, as they advanced,
though she could not help wishing very frequently that the road had been
smoother; indeed, the vehicle bumped and rolled about so much at times
that she fully expected a break down.  Waihoura, who had never been in a
carriage before, naturally supposed that this was the usual way in which
such vehicles moved along, and therefore appeared in no degree alarmed.
She pointed out to Lucy the names of the different trees they passed,
and of the birds which flew by.  Lucy was struck with the beauty of the
fern trees, their long graceful leaves springing twenty and thirty feet
from the ground; some, indeed, in sheltered and damp situations, were
twice that height, having the appearance of the palm trees of tropical
climates.  The most beautiful tree was the rimu, which rose without a
branch to sixty or seventy feet, with graceful drooping foliage of a
beautiful green, resembling clusters of feathers; then there was the
kahikatea, or white pine, resembling the rimu in foliage, but with a
light  bark.  One or two were seen rising ninety feet high
without a branch.  There were numerous creepers, some bearing very
handsome flowers, and various shrubs; one, the karaka, like a large
laurel, with golden  berries in clusters, which contrasted
finely with the glossy greenness of its foliage.  Some of the fruits
were like large plums, very tempting in appearance; but when Lucy tasted
some, which the farmer picked for her, she was much disappointed in
their flavour.  The best was the poro poro, which had a taste between
that of apple peel and a bad strawberry.

Birds were flitting about from tree to tree; the most common was the
tui, with a glossy black plumage, and two white feathers on the throat
like bands, and somewhat larger than an English blackbird, which
appeared always in motion, now darting up from some low bush to the
topmost bough of a lofty tree, when it began making a number of strange
noises, with a wonderful volume of tone.  If one tui caught sight of
another, they commenced fighting, more in sport, apparently, than in
earnest, and ending with a wild shout; they would throw a summer-set or
two, and then dart away into the bush to recommence their songs and
shouts.  There was a fine pigeon, its plumage richly shaded with green
purple and gold, called the kukupa.  Occasionally they caught sight of a
large brown parrot, marked with red, flying about the tops of the
tallest trees, and uttering a loud and peculiar cry; this was the kaka.
Waihoura pointed out to Lucy another bird of the parrot tribe, of a
green plumage, touched with gold about the head, and which she called
the kakarica.

As the waggon could only proceed at a snail's pace, they had made good
but half the distance, when they had to stop for dinner by the side of a
bright stream which ran through the forest.  The horses, which were
tethered, cropped the grass, and Mrs Greening unpacked her cooking
utensils.

While dinner was getting ready, Waihoura led Lucy along the bank of the
stream to show her some more birds.  They saw several, among them an
elegant little fly-catcher, with a black and white plumage, and a
delicate fan-tail, which flew rapidly about picking up sun-flies; this
was the tirakana.  And there was another pretty bird, the makomako,
somewhat like a green linnet.  Several were singing together, and their
notes reminded Lucy of the soft tinkling of numerous little bells.

They had seen nothing of Harry and Tobias with the sheep since starting,
and farmer Greening began to regret that he had not sent one of his
elder sons to drive them.

"Never fear, father," observed Mrs Greening, "our little Tobias has got
a head on his shoulders, and so has Master Harry, and with `Rough' to
help them, they will get along well enough."

Mrs Greening was right, and just as the horses were put too, "Rough's"
bark was heard through the woods.  In a short time the van of the flock
appeared, with a native, who walked first to show the way.  Though
"Rough" had never been out in the country before, he seemed to
understand its character, and the necessity of compelling the sheep to
follow the footsteps of the dark-skinned native before them.

"It's capital fun," cried Harry, as soon as he saw Lucy.  "We have to
keep our eyes about us though, when coming through the wood especially,
but we have not let a single sheep stray away as yet."

"Well, boys, our fire is still burning, and my missus has cooked food
enough for you all," said farmer Greening.  "So you may just take your
dinner, and come on after us as fast as you can."

"We will not be long," answered Harry.  "Hope, mother, you have left
some bones for `Rough' though," said Toby.  "He deserves his dinner as
much as any of us."

"Here's a mess I put by for him to give when we got to the end of our
journey," answered Mrs Greening, drawing out a pot which she had stowed
away in the waggon.  She called to "Rough," who quickly gobbled it up.
The waggon then moved on, while Harry and his companions sat round the
fire to discuss their dinner.  "Rough," in the meantime, vigilantly
keeping the sheep together.

The remainder of the journey was found more difficult than the first
part had been.  Sometimes they had to climb over steep ranges, when the
natives assisted at the wheels, while Mrs Greening and Betsy pushed
behind; then they had to descend on the other side, when a drag was put
on, and the wheels held back.  Several wide circuits had to be made to
avoid hills on their way, and even when over level ground, the fern in
many places was so very thick that it was rather hard work for the
horses to drag the waggon through it.

"This is a rough country," observed Mrs Greening, as she trudged on by
her husband's side.  "I didn't expect to see the like of it."

"Never fear, dame," answered the farmer.  "In a year or two we shall
have a good road between this and the port, and a coach-and-four may be
running on it."

At length the last range was passed, and they reached a broad open
valley, with a fine extent of level ground.  In the distance rose a
hill, with a sparkling river flowing near it, and thickly wooded
heights.  Further on beyond, it appeared a bold range of mountains,
their highest peaks capped with snow.

"This is, indeed, a beautiful scene," exclaimed Lucy.

"That's our home, Miss," said the farmer, pointing to the hill.  "If
your eyes could reach as far, you would just see the roof of your new
house among the trees.  We shall come well in sight of it before long."

The waggon now moved on faster, as the fern had been cut away or
trampled down, and the horses seemed to know that they were getting near
home.

Mr Pemberton and the farmer's sons came down to welcome them, and to
conduct them up to the house.

Lucy was surprised to find what progress had already been made.  The
whole of it was roofed over, and the room she was to occupy was
completely finished.  The building was not very large.  It consisted of
a central hall, with two bed-rooms on either side, and a broad verandah
running entirely round it; behind it were some smaller detached
buildings for the kitchen and out-houses.  In front and on one side a
space was marked off for a flower garden, beyond which, extending down
the side of the hill to the level ground, was a large space which Mr
Pemberton said he intended for the orchard and kitchen garden.  On that
side of the house were sheds for the waggons and horses, though now
occupied by the native labourers.

"They consider themselves magnificently lodged," said Mr Pemberton.
"And they deserve it, for they worked most industriously, and enabled me
to put up the house far more rapidly than I had expected.  I believe,
however, that they would have preferred the native wahre, with the heat
and smoke they delight in, to the larger hut I have provided for them,
and I have been sometimes afraid they would burn it down with the huge
fire they made within."

Farmer Greening's cottage, which was a little way round on the other
side of the hill, was built on a similar plan to Mr Pemberton, but it
was not so far advanced.

"You must blame me, Mrs Greening, for this," said Mr Pemberton.  "Your
husband insisted on helping me with my house before he would begin
yours, declaring that he should have the advantage of having mine as a
model.  I hope, therefore, that you will take up your abode with us till
yours is finished, as Harry and I can occupy the tent in the meantime."

Mrs Greening gladly accepted the invitation; she thought, indeed, that
she should be of use to Lucy in getting the house in order.  The
sitting-room was not yet boarded, but a rough table had been put in it,
and round this the party were soon seated at tea.

"Beg pardon, I hope I don't intrude, just looked in to welcome you and
my good friend Mrs Greening to `Riverside.'  Glad to find that you have
arrived safe.  Well, to be sure, the place is making wonderful progress,
we have three families already arrived in the village, and two more
expected tomorrow, and I don't know how many will follow.  I have been
helping my new friends to put up their houses, and have been obliged to
content myself with a shake-down of fern in the corner of a shed; but we
settlers must make up our minds to rough it, Mr Pemberton, and I hope
to get my own house up in the course of a week or two."

These words were uttered by Mr Nicholas Spears, who stood poking his
head into the room at the doorway, as if doubtful whether he might
venture to enter.

"I thank you for your kind inquiries, Mr Spears," said Mr Pemberton,
who, though he could not feel much respect for the little man, treated
him, as he did everybody else, with courtesy.  "If you have not had your
tea come in and take a seat at our board.  We have but a three-legged
stool to offer you."

This was just what Mr Spears wished; and sitting down he began
forthwith to give the party all the news of the settlement.  From his
account Lucy was glad to find that two families, one that of a naval,
the other of a military officer, who had just arrived in the colony, had
taken land close to theirs, and were about to settle on it.

Although the midsummer day was drawing to a close, Harry and Toby, with
the sheep, had not yet made their appearance.  Paul and James went off
to meet them, and take the flock where they were to remain for the
night, so as to relieve the boys of their charge.  There was a fine
bright moon, so they would have no difficulty in finding their way.  Not
long afterwards Harry's voice was heard, echoed by Toby's, shouting to
the sheep, and the two boys rushed up to the house.

"Here we are, papa," cried Harry.  "We have brought the sheep along all
safe, and now Paul and James have got charge of them, we may eat our
supper with good consciences."

Mrs Greening quickly placed a plentiful meal before the two young
shepherds, who did ample justice to it.

"We must get some cows, farmer, if we can procure any at a moderate
price, when you next go back to town," said Mr Pemberton.

"That's just what I was thinking," answered the farmer.

"And some pigs and poultry," added Mrs Greening.  "I should not think
myself at home without them, and Miss Lucy and Betsy will be wanting
some to look after."

"And a few goats, I suspect, would not be amiss," observed the farmer.
"I saw several near the town, and I hear they do very well."

Waihoura, who was listening attentively to all that was said, seemed to
comprehend the remark about the goats, and made Lucy understand that she
had several at her village, and she should like to send for some of
them.

Supper being over, Mr Pemberton, according to his usual custom, read a
chapter in the Bible, and offered up evening prayer; and after Mr
Spears had taken his departure, and the rest of the family had retired
to their respective dormitories, heaps of fern serving as beds for most
of them, Mr Pemberton and the farmer sat up arranging their plans for
the future.  The latter agreed to return to town the next day to bring
up the remainder of the stores, and to make the proposed purchases.

Although they all knew that at no great distance there were several
villages inhabited by savages, till lately, notorious for their fierce
and blood-thirsty character, they lay down to sleep with perfect
confidence, knowing that the missionary of the gospel had been among
them, and believing that a firm friendship had been established between
them and the white occupants of their country.



CHAPTER FIVE.

IHAKA'S VISIT.

LIFE AT RIVERSIDE.--WAIHOURA BEGINS TO LEARN THE TRUTH.--HER FATHER,
ACCOMPANIED BY SEVERAL CHIEFS, COMES TO TAKE HER TO HIS PAH, AND SHE
QUITS HER FRIENDS AT RIVERSIDE.

The settlement made rapid progress.  In the course of a few weeks Mr
Pemberton's and farmer Greening's houses were finished, their gardens
dug and planted; and they had now, in addition to the sheep, which Harry
and Toby continued to tend, several cows and pigs and poultry.  Lucy,
assisted by Betsy, was fully occupied from morning till night; she,
however, found time to give instruction to Waihoura, while Mr Pemberton
or Valentine assisted Harry in his studies.  He seldom went out without
a book in his pocket, so that he might read while the vigilant "Rough"
kept the sheep together.  Several other families had bought land in the
neighbourhood, and had got up their cottages.  Some of them were very
nice people, but they, as well as Lucy, were so constantly engaged, that
they could see very little of each other.

The Maoris employed by Mr Pemberton belonged to Ihaka's tribe, and
through them he heard of his daughter.  He had been so strongly urged by
Mr Marlow to allow her to remain with her white friends, that he had
hitherto abstained from visiting her, lest, as he sent word, he should
be tempted to take her away.  Lucy was very glad of this, as was
Waihoura.  The two girls were becoming more and more attached to each
other, and they dreaded the time when they might be separated.

"Maori girl wish always live with Lucy--never, never part," said
Waihoura, as one evening the two friends sat together in the porch,
bending over a picture-book of Scripture subjects, with the aid of which
Lucy was endeavouring to instruct her companion.  Lucy's arm was thrown
round Waihoura's neck, while Betsy, who had finished her work, stood
behind them, listening to the conversation, and wondering at the way her
young mistress contrived to make herself understood.  "God does not
always allow even the dearest friends to remain together while they
dwell on earth," replied Lucy to Waihoura's last remark.  "I used to
wish that I might never leave my dear mother; but God thought fit to
take her to Himself.  I could not have borne the parting did not I know
that I should meet her in heaven."

"What place heaven?" asked Waihoura.

"Jesus has told us that it is the place where we shall be with Him,
where all is love, and purity, and holiness, and where we shall meet all
who have trusted to Him while on earth, and where there will be no more
parting, and where sorrow and sickness, and pain, and all things evil,
will be unknown."

"Maori girl meet Lucy in heaven?" said Waihoura, in a tone which showed
she was asking a question.

"I am sure you will," said Lucy, "if you learn to love Jesus and do His
will."

Waihoura was silent for some minutes, a sad expression coming over her
countenance.

"Maori girl too bad, not love Jesus enough," she said.

"No one is fitted for heaven from their own merits or good works, and we
never can love Jesus as much as He deserves to be loved.  But He knows
how weak and wayward we are, and all He asks us is to try our best to
love and serve Him, to believe that He was punished instead of us, and
took our sins upon Himself, and He then, as it were, clothes us with His
righteousness.  He hides our sins, or puts them away, so that God looks
upon us as if we were pure and holy, and free from sin, and so will let
us come into a pure and holy heaven, where no unclean things--such as
are human beings--of themselves can enter.  Do you understand me?"

Waihoura thought for some time, and then asked Lucy again to explain her
meaning.  At length her countenance brightened.

"Just as if Maori girl put on Lucy's dress, and hat and shawl over face,
and go into a pakeha house, people say here come pakeha girl."

"Yes," said Lucy, inclined to smile at her friend's illustration of the
truth.  "But you must have a living faith in Christ's sacrifice; and
though the work and the merit is all His, you must show, by your love
and your life, what you think, and say, and do, that you value that
work.  If one of your father's poor slaves had been set free, and had
received a house and lands, and a wife, and pigs, and many other things
from him, ought not the slave to remain faithful to him, and to try and
serve him, and work for him more willingly than when he was a slave?
That is just what Jesus Christ requires of those who believe in Him.
They were slaves to Satan and the world, and to many bad ways, and He
set them free.  He wants all such to labour for Him.  Now He values the
souls of people more than anything else, and He wishes His friends to
make known to others the way by which their souls may be saved.  He also
wishes people to live happily together in the world; and He came on
earth to show us the only way in which that can be done.  He proved to
us, by His example, that we can only be happy by being kind, and gentle,
and courteous to others, helping those who are in distress, doing to
others as we should wish they would do to us.  If, therefore, we really
love Jesus, and have a living active faith in Him, we shall try to
follow His example in all things.  If all men lived thus, the gospel on
earth would be established, there would be really peace and good will
among men."

"Very different here," said Waihoura.  "Maori people still quarrel, and
fight, and kill.  In pakeha country they good people love Jesus, and do
good, and no bad."

"I am sorry to say that though there are many who do love Jesus, there
are far more who do not care to please Him, and that there is much sin,
and sorrow, and suffering in consequence.  Oh, if we could but find the
country where all loved and tried to serve Him!  If all the inhabitants
of even one little island were real followers of Jesus, what a happy
spot it would be."  Waihoura sighed.

"Long time before Maori country like that."

"I am afraid that it will be a long time before any part of the world is
like that," said Lucy.  "But yet it is the duty of each separate
follower of Jesus to try, by the way he or she lives, to make it so.
Oh, how watchful we should be over ourselves and all our thoughts, words
and acts, and remembering our own weakness and proneness to sin, never
to be trusting to ourselves, but ever seeking the aid of the Holy Spirit
to help us."

Lucy said this rather to herself than to her companion.  Indeed, though
she did her best to explain the subject to Waihoura, and to draw from
her in return the ideas she had received, she could not help
acknowledging that what she had said was very imperfectly understood by
the Maori girl.  She was looking forward, however, with great interest,
to a visit from Mr Marlow, and she hoped that he, from speaking the
native language fluently, would be able to explain many points which she
had found beyond her power to put clearly.

The work of the day being over, the party were seated at their evening
meal.  A strange noise was heard coming from the direction of the wahre,
which the native labourers had built for themselves, a short distance
from the house.  Harry, who had just then come in from his shepherding,
said that several natives were collected round the wahre, and that they
were rubbing noses, and howling together in chorus.  "I am afraid they
have brought some bad news, for the tears were rolling down their eyes,
and altogether they looked very unhappy," he remarked.  Waihoura, who
partly understood what Harry had said, looked up and observed--

"No bad news, only meet after long time away."  Still she appeared
somewhat anxious, and continued giving uneasy glances at the door.
Valentine was about to go out to make inquiries, when Ihaka, dressed in
a cloak of flax, and accompanied by several other persons similarly
habited, appeared at the door.  Waihoura ran forward to meet him.  He
took her in his arms, rubbed his nose against hers, and burst into
tears, which also streamed down her cheeks.  After their greeting was
over, Mr Pemberton invited the chief and his friends to be seated,
fully expecting to hear that he had come to announce the death of some
near relative.  The chief accepted the invitation for himself and one of
his companions, while the others retired to a distance, and sat down on
the ground.  Ihaka's companion was a young man, and the elaborate
tattooing on his face and arms showed that he was a chief of some
consideration.  Both he and Ihaka behaved with much propriety, and their
manners were those of gentlemen who felt themselves in their proper
position; but as Lucy noticed the countenance of the younger chief, she
did not at all like its expression.  The tattoo marks always give a
peculiarly fierce look to the features; but, besides this, as he cast
his eyes round the party, and they at last rested on Waihoura, Lucy's
bad opinion of him was confirmed.

Ihaka could speak a few sentences of English, but the conversation was
carried on chiefly through Waihoura, who interpreted for him.  The
younger chief seldom spoke; when he did, either Ihaka or his daughter
tried to explain his meaning.  Occasionally he addressed her in Maori,
when she hung down her head, or turned her eyes away from him, and made
no attempt to interpret what he had said.  Mr Pemberton knew enough of
the customs of the natives not to inquire the object of Ihaka's visit,
and to wait till he thought fit to explain it.  Lucy had feared,
directly he made his appearance, that he had come to claim his daughter,
and she trembled lest he should declare that such was his intention.
Her anxiety increased when supper was over, and he began, in somewhat
high-flown language, to express his gratitude to her and Mr Pemberton
for the care they had taken of Waihoura.  He then introduced his
companion as Hemipo, a Rangatira, or chief of high rank, his greatly
esteemed and honoured friend, who, although not related to him by the
ties of blood, might yet, he hoped, become so.  When he said this
Waihoura cast her eyes to the ground, and looked greatly distressed, and
Lucy, who had taken her hand, felt it tremble.

Ihaka continued, observing that now, having been deprived of the company
of his daughter for many months, though grateful to the friends who had
so kindly sheltered her, and been the means of restoring her to health,
he desired to have her return with him to his pah, where she might
assist in keeping the other women in order, and comfort and console him
in his wahre, which had remained empty and melancholy since the death of
her mother.

Waihoura, though compelled to interpret this speech, made no remark on
it; but Lucy saw that the tears were trickling down her cheeks.  Mr
Pemberton, though very sorry to part with his young guest, felt that it
would be useless to beg her father to allow her to remain after what he
had said.  Lucy, however, pleaded hard that she might be permitted to
stay on with them sometime longer.  All she could say, however, was
useless; for when the chief appeared to be yielding, Hemipo said
something which made him keep to his resolution, and he finally told
Waihoura that she must prepare to accompany him the following morning.
He and Hemipo then rose, and saying that they would sleep in the wahre,
out of which it afterwards appeared they turned the usual inhabitants,
they took their departure.

Waihoura kept up her composure till they were gone, and then throwing
herself on Lucy's neck, burst into tears.

"Till I came here I did not know what it was to love God, and to try and
be good, and to live as you do, so happy and peaceable, and now I must
go back and be again the wild Maori girl I was before I came to you, and
follow the habits of my people; and worse than all, Lucy, from what my
father said, I know that he intends me to marry the Rangatira Hemipo,
whom I can never love, for he is a bad man, and has killed several
cookies or slaves, who have offended him.  He is no friend of the
pakehas, and has often said he would be ready to drive them out of the
country.  He would never listen either to the missionaries; and when the
good Mr Marlow went to his pah, he treated him rudely, and has
threatened to take his life if he has the opportunity.  Fear only of
what the pakehas might do has prevented him."

Waihoura did not say this in as many words, but she contrived, partly in
English and partly in her own language, to make her meaning understood.
Lucy was deeply grieved at hearing it, and tried to think of some means
for saving Waihoura from so hard a fate.  They sat up for a long time
talking on the subject, but no plan which Lucy could suggest afforded
Waihoura any consolation.

"I will consult my father as to what can be done," Lucy said at last;
"or when Mr Marlow comes, perhaps he can help us."

"Oh no, he can do nothing," answered Waihoura, bursting into tears.

"We must pray, then, that God will help us," said Lucy.  "He has
promised that He will be a present help in time of trouble."

"Oh yes, we will pray to God.  He only can help us," replied the Maori
girl, and ere they lay down on their beds they together offered up their
petitions to their Father in heaven for guidance and protection; but
though they knew that that would not be withheld, they could not see the
way in which it would be granted.

Next morning Waihoura had somewhat recovered her composure.  Lucy and
Mrs Greening insisted on her accepting numerous presents, which she
evidently considered of great value.  Several of the other settlers in
the neighbourhood, who had become acquainted with the young Maori girl,
and had heard that she was going away, brought up their gifts.  Waihoura
again gave way to tears when the moment arrived for her final parting
with Lucy; and she was still weeping as her father led her off,
surrounded by his attendants, to return to his pah.



CHAPTER SIX.

AMONG THE MAORIS.

RIVERSIDE.--MR MARLOW THE MISSIONARY, VISITS THE PEMBERTONS.--LUCY AND
HER FRIENDS VISIT IHAKA.--A NATIVE PAH DESCRIBED.--A FEAST--NATIVE
AMUSEMENTS.--RETURN TO RIVERSIDE.

The appearance of Riverside had greatly improved since Mr Pemberton and
farmer Greening had settled there.  They had each thirty or forty acres
under cultivation, with kitchen gardens and orchards, and Lucy had a
very pretty flower garden in front of the cottage, with a dairy and
poultry yard, and several litters of pigs.  Harry's flock of sheep had
increased threefold, and might now be seen dotting the plain as they fed
on the rich grasses which had sprung up where the fern had been burnt.
There were several other farms in the neighbourhood, and at the foot of
the hill a village, consisting of a dozen or more houses, had been
built, the principal shop in which was kept by Mr Nicholas Spears.  The
high road to the port was still in a very imperfect state, and the long
talked of coach had not yet begun to run.  Communication was kept up by
means of the settlers waggons, or by the gentlemen, who took a shorter
route to it on horseback.

Mr Marlow at length paid his long promised visit.  Lucy eagerly
inquired if he had seen Waihoura.

"I spent a couple of days at Ihaka's pah on my way here," he replied,
"and I am sorry to say that your young friend appears very unhappy.  Her
father seems resolved that she shall marry Hemipo, notwithstanding that
he is a heathen, as he has passed his word to that effect.  I pointed
out to him the misery he would cause her; and though he loves his child,
yet I could not shake him.  He replied, that a chief's word must not be
broken, and that perhaps Waihoura's marriage may be the means of
converting her husband.  I fear that she would have little influence
over him, as even among his own people he is looked upon as a fierce and
vindictive savage."

"Poor Waihoura!" sighed Lucy.  "Do you think her father would allow her
to pay us another visit?  I should be so glad to send and invite her."

"I am afraid not," answered Mr Marlow.  "Ihaka himself, though
nominally a Christian, is very lukewarm; and though he was glad to have
his daughter restored to health, he does not value the advantage she
would derive from intercourse with civilised people.  However, you can
make the attempt, and I will write a letter, which you can send by one
of his people who accompanied me here."

The letter was written, and forthwith despatched.  In return Ihaka sent
an invitation to the pakeha maiden and her friends to visit him and his
daughter at his pah.  Mr Marlow advised Lucy to accept it.

"The chief's pride possibly prevents him from allowing his daughter to
visit you again, until, according to his notions, he has repaid you for
the hospitality you have shown her," he observed.  "You may feel
perfectly secure in going there; and, at all events, you will find the
visit interesting, as you will have an opportunity of seeing more of the
native customs and way of living than you otherwise could."

Mr Pemberton, after some hesitation, agreed to the proposal, and
Valentine undertook to escort his sister.  Harry said he should like to
go; "but then about the sheep--I cannot leave them for so long," he
said.  James Greening offered to look after his flock during his
absence.  A lady, Miss Osburn, a very nice girl, who was calling on
Lucy, expressed a strong wish to accompany her.

"I think that I am bound to go with you, as I have advised the
expedition, and feel myself answerable for your safe conduct," said Mr
Marlow.  "I may also prove useful as an interpreter, and should be glad
of an opportunity of again speaking to Ihaka and his people."

A message was accordingly sent to the chief, announcing the intention of
Lucy and her friends to pay a visit to his pah.

The road, though somewhat rough, was considered practicable for the
waggon, which was accordingly got ready.  They were to start at
daybreak, and as the pah was about twelve miles off, it was not expected
that they would reach it till late in the afternoon.  Two natives had
been sent by Ihaka to act as guides, and as they selected the most level
route, the journey was performed without accident.

About the time expected they came in sight of a rocky hill rising out of
the plain, with a stream running at its base.  On the summit appeared a
line of palisades, surmounted by strange looking figures, mounted on
poles, while in front was a gateway, above which was a larger figure,
with a hideous countenance, curiously carved and painted.  The natives
pointed, with evident pride, at the abode of their chief.

As the path to it was far too steep to allow of the waggon going up it,
Lucy and her friend got out to ascend on foot.  As they did so, the
chief and a number of his people emerged from the gateway, and came down
to meet them.  The usual salutations were offered, and the chief,
knowing the customs of his guests, did not offer to rub noses.  Lucy
inquired anxiously for Waihoura.  She was, according to etiquette,
remaining within to receive her visitors.

After passing through a gateway, they found a second line of stockades,
within which was a wide place occupied by numerous small wahres, while
at the further end stood two of somewhat larger size, ornamented with
numerous highly carved wooden figures.  On one side was a building,
raised on carved posts, with a high-pitched roof--it was still more
highly ornamented than the others, in grotesque patterns, among which
the human face predominated.  This latter was the chief's store-house,
and it was considerably larger and handsomer than his own abode.  The
dwelling-houses were of an oblong shape, about sixteen feet long and
eight wide, with low walls, but high sloping roofs; the doors were so
low that it was necessary to stoop when entering.  The roofs were
thatched with rampo, a plant which grows in the marshes; and the walls
were of the same material, thickly matted together, so as to keep out
both rain and wind.

As the party advanced, Waihoura appeared from her wahre, and throwing
her arms on Lucy's neck, began to weep as if her heart would break.  She
then conducted her friends into the interior, while the chief took
charge of Mr Marlow, Valentine, and Harry.

Waihoura's abode was clean and neat, the ground on each side covered
thickly with fern, on the top of which mats were placed to serve as
couches.  Here the Maori girl begged her guests to be seated, and having
recovered her composure, she thanked Lucy warmly for coming, and made
inquiries about her friends at Riverside.  She smiled and laughed, and
became so animated, that she scarcely appeared like the same person she
had been a few minutes before.  She became very grave, however, when
Lucy asked if her father still insisted on her marrying Hemipo.

"He does," she answered, in a sad tone.  "But I may yet escape, and I
will, if I can, at all risks."

She pressed her lips together, and looked so firm, that Lucy hoped that
she would succeed in carrying out her resolution.

Their conversation was interrupted by a summons to a feast, which the
chief had prepared, to do honour to his guests.  In the centre of the
pah a scaffold was erected, with bars across it, on which were hung up
various fish, pieces of pork, and wild-fowl, while on the top were
baskets full of sweet and ordinary potatoes, and a variety of other
vegetables; and a number of women were employed in cooking, in ovens
formed in the ground.  These ovens were mere holes filled with hot
stones, on the top of which the provisions were placed, and then covered
up with leaves and earth.

In deference to the customs of their white friends, the natives had
prepared seats for them, composed of fern and mats, in the shade of the
chief's wahre, while they themselves sat round, at a respectful
distance, on the ground, in the hot sun.

When all were arranged, the chief, wrapped in his cloak, walked into the
centre, and marching backwards and forwards, addressed the party, now
turning to his guests, now to his countrymen, the rapidity of his
movements increasing, till he appeared to have worked himself into a
perfect fury.  Waihoura, who sat by Lucy's side, begged her and her
friend not to be alarmed, he was merely acting according to custom.
Suddenly he stopped, and wrapping his cloak around him, sat down on the
ground.

Mr Marlow considered this a good opportunity of speaking to the people,
and rising, he walked into their midst.  His address, however, was very
different to that of the chief's.  He reminded them that God, who rules
the world, had given them all the food he saw there collected; that He
desires to do good to the bodies of men, and to enable them to live in
happiness and plenty; but that He loves their souls still more, and that
He who had provided them with the food was ready to bestow on them
spiritual blessings, to feed their souls as well as their bodies: that
their bodies must perish, but that their souls must live for ever--He
had sent the missionaries to them with His message of love, and He
grieved that they were often more ready to accept only the food for
their bodies, and to reject that which He offers for their souls.  Much
more he spoke to the same effect, and explained all that God, their
Father had done for them when they were banished for their sins, to
enable them again to become His dear children.  Earthly fathers, he
continued, are too often ready to sacrifice their children for their own
advantage, regardless of their happiness here and of their eternal
welfare.  Ihaka winced when he heard these remarks, and fixed his eyes
on the speaker, but said nothing.  Other chiefs, who had come as guests,
also spoke.  Lucy was glad to find that Hemipo was not among them.

The feast then commenced, the provisions were handed round in neat clean
baskets to each guest.  Ihaka had provided plates and knives and forks
for his English friends, who were surprised to find the perfect way in
which the fish and meat, as well as the vegetables, were cooked.

After the feast, the young people hurried out of the pah towards a post
stuck in the ground, on one side of a bank, with ropes hanging from the
top; each one seized a rope, and began running round and round, now up,
now down the bank, till their feet were lifted off the ground, much in
the way English boys amuse themselves in a gymnasium.  In another place
a target was set up, at which the elder boys and young men threw their
spears, composed of fern stems, with great dexterity.  Several kites,
formed of the flat leaves of a kind of sedge, were also brought out and
set flying, with songs and shouts, which increased as the kite ascended
higher and higher.  A number of the young men exhibited feats of
dancing, which were not, however, especially graceful, nor interesting
to their guests.  When the sun set the party returned to the pah.  Mr
Marlow, accompanied by Val, went about among the people, addressing them
individually, and affording instruction to those who had expressed an
anxiety about their souls.

Ihaka had provided a new wahre for his visitors, while Waihoura
accommodated Lucy and Miss Osburn in her hut.

Lucy had hoped to persuade Ihaka to allow his daughter to return with
her, but he made various excuses, and Waihoura expressed her fears that
she was not allowed to go on account of Hemipo, who objected to her
associating with her English friends.

Next morning the party set out on their return, leaving Waihoura
evidently very miserable, and anxious about the future.  They had got a
short distance from the pah, when a chief with several attendants passed
them, and Lucy felt sure, from the glimpse she got of his features, that
he was Hemipo, especially as he did not stop, and only offered them a
distant salutation.  Mr Marlow again expressed his regret that he had
been unable to move Ihaka.  "Still, I believe, that he is pricked in his
conscience, and he would be glad of an opportunity of being released
from his promise," he remarked.  "The chief considers himself, however,
in honour bound to perform it, though he is well aware that it must lead
to his daughter's unhappiness.  I do not, however, suppose that he is
biased by any fears of the consequences were he to break off the
marriage, though probably if he did so Hemipo would attack the fort, and
attempt to carry off his bride by force."

When the party got back to Riverside, their friends were very eager to
hear an account of their visit, and several regretted that they had not
accompanied them.

"Who would have thought, Miss Lucy, when we first came here, that you
would ever have slept inside one of those savage's huts!" exclaimed Mrs
Greening.  "My notion was, that they would as likely as not eat anybody
up who got into their clutches; but I really begin to think that they
are a very decent, good sort of people, only I do wish the gentlemen
would not make such ugly marks on their faces--it does not improve them,
and I should like to tell them so."



CHAPTER SEVEN.

THE BEGINNING OF TROUBLE.

PROSPEROUS CONDITION OF THE SETTLEMENT--MR PEMBERTON AND HIS SONS GO
OUT SHOOTING.--WAIHOURA IS OBSERVED FLYING FROM HEMIPO, WHO FIRES AND
WOUNDS HER.--RESCUED BY MR PEMBERTON AND TAKEN TO RIVERSIDE.--VAL GOES
FOR DR FRASER.--ON THEIR RETURN, RAHANA, A NATIVE CHIEF, SAVES THEIR
LIVES.--IHAKA ARRIVES WITH HIS FOLLOWERS TO DEFEND THE FARM, AS ALSO DO
RAHANA'S, BUT NO ENEMY APPEARS, AND THEY, WITH WAIHOURA, RETURN TO
IHAKA'S PAH.

The little settlement went on prosperously, the flocks and herds
increased, and more land was brought under cultivation; the orchards
were producing fruit, and the kitchen gardens an abundance of
vegetables.

There had been outbreaks of the natives in the northern part of the
island, but those in their immediate neighbourhood were supposed to be
peaceably disposed, and friendly towards the English.

Lucy had been for some time expecting to hear from Waihoura, and she
feared, from the last account she had received from her, that the
marriage the poor girl so much dreaded with Hemipo, might soon take
place.

"I am afraid it can't be helped," observed Mrs Greening, who was trying
to console her.  "After all, he is her own countryman, and maybe she
will improve him when they marry."

"Oh, but I mourn for her because he is a heathen, and a cruel bad man,"
said Lucy, "and I am sure she is worthy of a better fate."

Mr Pemberton and Valentine had shortly after this gone out with their
guns to shoot some wild-fowl which had visited the banks of the river.
The young Pembertons and Greenings had built a boat, and as the birds
appeared more numerous on the opposite side, Harry, who met them,
offered to paddle them across.  While Harry remained in the canoe, they
proceeded up a small stream which ran into the main river.  They were
approaching the border of the forest.  Although the foliage, entwined by
creepers, was so dense towards the upper part of the trees that the rays
of the sun were unable to penetrate through it, the lower part was open
and free from underwood, thus enabling them to pass among the trees
without difficulty, and to see for a considerable distance into its
depths.

"We shall find no birds there," observed Val.  "Had we not better turn
back and continue along the bank of the main stream?"

They were just about to do as Val proposed, when they caught sight of a
figure running at full speed through the forest towards them.

"It is a woman, I believe," exclaimed Val.  "Yes, and there is a man
following her.  She is endeavouring to escape from him.  She is crying
out, and making signs for us to come to her assistance.  She is
Waihoura!"

As he spoke, the savage stopped, then levelled his rifle and fired.
Waihoura shrieked out, and running a few paces further towards them,
fell.

"I must punish the villain," exclaimed Val, dashing forward.

"Stay, my boy," said Mr Pemberton, "he deserves punishment, but not at
our hands,--let us try and assist the poor girl."

They hurried to where Waihoura lay.  The bullet had wounded her in the
shoulder.  Meantime the savage had retreated, and when they looked round
for him, he was nowhere to be seen.

"We must take the poor girl to the house and endeavour to obtain
surgical assistance for her," said Mr Pemberton.

They lifted her up and bore her along towards the river.  Valentine
shouted for Harry, who quickly came up with the canoe.

Waihoura was too much agitated to speak, or to tell them by whom she had
been wounded.  Still her countenance exhibited an expression rather of
satisfaction than of alarm.  Harry having secured the canoe, ran on
before his father and brother to prepare Lucy for the arrival of her
friend.  Waihoura was carried into the house, and placed on the bed she
had formerly occupied, while Harry ran on to get Mrs Greening to assist
in taking care of her.

Left with Lucy and Betsy, Waihoura soon recovered her composure.

"I have escaped from him," she said, in her broken English.  "I have
done what I long intended.  Hemipo came for me to my father's pah, and I
was delivered in due form to him, and so my father's honour was
satisfied.  I went quietly for some distance, as if I was no longer
unwilling to accompany him, and then, watching my opportunity, I ran
off, hoping to make my escape without being discovered.  He saw me,
however, and followed, though I was already a long way off.  I hoped to
reach the river and swim across to you, when he was nearly overtaking
me.  Just then, as he caught sight of your father and brother, in his
rage and disappointment he fired at me, and would have killed me had
they not come up to prevent him."

Such was the meaning of the account Waihoura gave Lucy, as she and Betsy
were endeavouring to staunch the blood which continued to flow from the
wound.  As soon as Mrs Greening arrived, she advised Val to set off and
obtain Dr Fraser's assistance.

"We may be able to stop the blood, but the hurt is a bad one, and if the
bullet is still in the wound, will need a surgeon to take it out," she
observed.

Valentine required no second bidding.  Harry, indeed, had already got a
horse ready.  He galloped away, taking the shortest cut across the
country to the fort.  Valentine had to spend some time in searching for
Dr Fraser, who had gone off to a distance, and when he returned he had
a patient to whom it was absolutely necessary he should attend.

"I'll not be a moment longer than I can help," exclaimed the doctor.  "I
felt great interest in that pretty little native girl.  There's one
comfort, that the natives seldom suffer from fever through injuries.
You ride back and say I am coming."

"I would rather wait for you," answered Valentine.  Though he was sorely
annoyed at the delay, it enabled him to give his horse a feed, and to
rest the animal, so that there was not so much time lost as he supposed.

At length the doctor was ready, and they set off to take the way by
which Valentine had come.  They had gone rather more than half the
distance, and were approaching a defile between two high hills, covered
thickly with trees, and wild rugged rocks on either side.  They were
just about to enter it when a Maori, who, by the way he was dressed,
appeared to be a chief, was seen hurrying down the side of the hill
towards them, and beckoning to them to stop.

"He wishes to speak to us," said Valentine, "shall we wait for him?"

"I hope that his intentions are friendly," observed the doctor.  "These
fellows have been playing some treacherous tricks to the settlers in the
north, and it is as well to be prepared."

"His manner does not appear to be hostile," observed Valentine.  "I will
ride forward to speak to him."

Valentine had not gone many paces before he met the native, who
hurriedly addressed him in broken English.

"Go back and take another path," he exclaimed.  "If you go forward you
will be killed, there's a bad chief, with several men, lying in wait to
shoot you.  I have only just discovered their intentions, and hurried
forward to give you warning."

"Can you tell us who the chief is?" asked Valentine, not feeling very
willing to believe the stranger's statement.

"His name does not matter," answered the young stranger.  "He supposes
me to be his friend, and begged me to assist him, so that I do not wish
further to betray him, but I could not allow you to suffer."

"There may be some truth in what the young man says, and we should be
unwise not to take his advice," observed the doctor.

Valentine warmly thanked the stranger, who offered to lead them by a
path he was acquainted with, which would enable them to escape the
ambush and reach the river side with little loss of time.  He
accordingly led them back for some distance, and then striking off to
the right over the hills, conducted them through another valley, which
in time took them out on to the open plain.

"You are safe now," he said.  "Ride on as fast as you can, so that your
enemy may not overtake you."

"I should like to know who you are, that we may thank you properly for
the benefit you have done us," said Valentine, "and I am sure Ihaka's
daughter, on whose account Dr Fraser is going to our settlement, will
desire to express her gratitude.  She is sorely wounded, and I fear in
much danger."

"Wounded and in danger," exclaimed the young stranger.  "How has she
received an injury?"

"She was basely shot at by a Maori," answered Val.

"The chief told me that it was your sister who was ill, and that you
having grossly insulted him, he was determined to revenge himself on
you."  He stopped for a few moments as if for consideration.  "I will
accompany you," he said.  "If I go back I shall not be able to resist
accusing him of his treachery, and bloodshed may be the consequence."

"Come along then, my friend," said the doctor, "you are fleet of foot,
and will keep up with our horses."

The stranger, a fine young man, one of the handsomest natives Valentine
had as yet seen--his face being, moreover, undisfigured by tattoo
marks,--on this ran forward, and showed by the pace he moved at, that he
was not likely to detain them.

It was dark when they reached Riverside, but Lucy had heard the sound of
their horses' feet, and came out to meet them.

"I am so thankful you have come, doctor," she exclaimed.  "Waihoura is,
I fear, suffering much pain, and we have been able to do little to
relieve her."

The doctor hurried into the house.  His report was more favourable than
Lucy had expected.  He quickly extracted the bullet, and promised, with
the good constitution the young girl evidently possessed, that she would
soon recover.

Valentine invited the young stranger to remain, and he evidently showed
no desire to take his departure.

"I wish to stay for your sakes as well as my own," he said, "and I would
advise you to keep a vigilant watch round the house during the night.
The man who has committed so foul a deed as to shoot Ihaka's daughter,
must from henceforth be Rahana's foe, and I now confess that it was
Hemipo who intended to waylay and murder you.  I am myself a Rangatira,
chief of a numerous tribe.  My father ever lived on friendly terms with
the English, and seeing the folly of war, wished also to be at peace
with his neighbours, and I have desired to follow his example.  Among
our nearest neighbours was Hemipo, who, though one I could never regard
with esteem, has always appeared anxious to retain my friendship.
Hitherto I have, therefore, frequently associated with him, but from
henceforth he must be to me as a stranger.  He is capable, I am
convinced, of any treachery, and when he finds that you have escaped him
on this occasion, will seek another opportunity of revenging himself."

This was said partly in English and partly in Maori.

Mr Pemberton, following the advice he received, sent to farmer Greening
and several other neighbours, asking their assistance in guarding
Waihoura, thinking it possible that Hemipo might attack the place and
attempt to carry her off.  Among others who came up was Mr Spears, with
a cartouche-box hanging by a belt to his waist, and a musket in his
hand.

"Neighbours should help each other, Mr Pemberton," he said as he made
his appearance, "and so I have locked up the shop, and shall be happy to
stand sentry during the night at any post you may assign me.  Place me
inside the house or outside, or in a cow-shed, it's all the same to me.
I'll shoot the first man I see coming up the hill."

Valentine suggested that Mr Spears was as likely to shoot a friend as a
foe, and therefore placed him, with a companion, in one of the sheds,
strictly enjoining him not to fire unless he received an order to do so.

From the precautions taken by Mr Pemberton, it was not likely that
Hemipo would succeed even should he venture on an attack, especially as
every one in the settlement was on the alert.

The night passed off quietly, and in the morning Dr Fraser gave a
favourable report of Waihoura.  A messenger was then despatched to
Ihaka, to inform him of what had occurred.  He arrived before sunset
with several of his followers, well-armed, and at once requested to have
an interview with his daughter.  On coming out of her room he met Mr
Pemberton, and warmly thanked him for having again preserved her life.

"From henceforth she is free to choose whom she will for a husband," he
observed.  "I gave her, as I was bound to do by my promise, to Hemipo;
but she escaped from him, and as he has proved himself unworthy of her,
though war between us be the result, I will not again deliver her to
him."

Lucy, who overheard this, was greatly relieved.  Not knowing the customs
of the Maoris, she was afraid that the chief might still consider
himself bound to restore Waihoura to her intended husband.

"I must go at once and tell her," she said.  "I am sure that this will
greatly assist her recovery."

"She knows it.  I have already promised her," said Ihaka.  "And I will
remain here and defend her and you, my friends, from Hemipo,--though
boastful as he is, I do not believe that he will venture to attack a
pakeha settlement."

Rahana, who had hitherto remained at a distance, now came forward, and
the two chiefs greeted each other according to their national custom, by
rubbing their noses together for a minute or more.  They then sat down,
and the young chief gave Ihaka an account of the part he had taken in
the affair.

"We have ever been friends," answered Ihaka, "and this will cement our
friendship closer than ever."

They sat for some time talking over the matter, and Rahana agreed to
send for a band of his people to assist in protecting their friends, and
afterwards to escort Waihoura to her home.

Till this time, the only natives who frequented the settlement were the
labourers employed on the farm, but now a number of warriors might be
seen, with rifles in their hands, some seated on the hillside, others
stalking about among the cottages.  They all, however, behaved with the
greatest propriety, declining even to receive provisions from the
inhabitants, both Ihaka's and Rahana's people having brought an abundant
supply.  Though scouts were sent out in every direction, nothing was
heard of Hemipo, and it was supposed that he had returned to his own
village--either being afraid of meeting those he had injured, or to
hatch some plan of revenge.

Dr Fraser, who had gone home when he considered Waihoura out of danger,
returned, at the end of a fortnight, and pronounced her sufficiently
recovered to undertake the journey home, to which Ihaka was anxious to
convey her, as she would be there safer from any design Hemipo might
entertain, than in the unprotected cottage at Riverside.  Lucy, although
she would gladly have had her remain longer, felt that this was the
case.  The Maori girl warmly embraced her before taking her seat on the
covered litter constructed for her conveyance, and willingly gave a
promise to return to Riverside as soon as her father considered it safe
for her to do so.  The young chief had constituted himself her chief
attendant, and when they set out placed himself by her side, which he
showed no intention of quitting.  It appeared that they had hitherto
been strangers to each other, but Lucy, having observed the admiration
with which he had regarded Waihoura the first time they met, pleased
with his manners, could not help hoping that he might become a
Christian, and a successful suitor of her friend.  She watched the party
as they took their way along the road, till they were lost to sight
among the trees; and from the judicious precautions they took of
throwing out scouts, she trusted that they would, escape being surprised
even should Hemipo be on the watch for them, and would reach their
destination in safety.

As soon as they were gone the settlement returned to its usual quiet
state.

After the character they had heard of Hemipo, Mr Pemberton considered
it prudent to keep a watch at night, and to advise the Greenings, as
well as his own sons, to carry arms in their hands, and never to go
singly to a distance from the house.

Day after day passed by, till at length they began to feel that such
precautions were unnecessary, and by degrees they abandoned the habit,
only occasionally taking their guns when they went out to shoot birds,
or when the traces of a wild pig, which happened to stray from the
mountains, were discovered in the neighbourhood.  Few countries in the
world are so destitute of game or animals of any description, or of
noxious reptiles, as New Zealand; the only reptile, indeed, being a
harmless lizard, while the only wild beasts are the descendants of pigs
originally introduced by Europeans, which having escaped from their
owners to the forests where they roam at large.

Unhappily, although many of the natives lived on the most friendly terms
with the English, and had made considerable advancement in civilisation,
a large number still, at that period, retained much of their former
savage character, and, instigated perhaps by evilly-disposed persons,
from time to time rose in aims against the English, and though inferior
in numbers to the settlers, were enabled, in their mountain fastnesses,
to resist the attacks of well-trained troops sent against them.  They
sometimes descended on the unprepared settlements, murdered the
inhabitants, and committed many fearful atrocities.  Of late years,
however, finding resistance vain, they have submitted to the English
Government, and as they possess equal rights and privileges with the
settlers, and are treated in every respect as British subjects, it may
be hoped that they will become, ere long, thoroughly civilised and
contented with their lot, so infinitely superior to that of their former
savage state.  At the time, however, that the occurrences which have
been described took place, although cannibalism and their more barbarous
customs were almost abandoned, still a number of the tribes were hostile
to the English, and also carried on a fierce warfare among themselves.
Our friends at Riverside were destined shortly to feel the ill effects
of this state of things.



CHAPTER EIGHT.

CARRIED OFF.

DISTURBANCE AMONG THE NATIVES.--VOLUNTEERS FROM THE SETTLEMENT.--MR
PEMBERTON AND VAL CALLED AWAY.--THE SETTLERS, TO THEIR DISMAY, DISCOVER
THAT THE YOUNG PEMBERTONS HAVE BEEN CARRIED OFF.

Lucy had made tea, and her father and brother, who had come in from
their work, had just taken their seats, when Mr Spears, announced by
Betsy, popped his head in at the door.

"Beg pardon, Mr Pemberton, for intruding, but I thought you would like
to have this letter at once," he said, handing an official-looking
envelope.  "I have sent several others of similar appearance to a number
of gentlemen in our neighbourhood, and I suspect they mean something."

Lucy observed that her father's countenance assumed a grave expression
as he read the document; after requesting the bearer to sit down and
take a cup of tea.

"More disturbances among the natives?" asked Mr Spears.  "I hope,
though, that they will keep quiet in these parts."

"Yes, I am sorry to say that they have risen in much greater numbers
than heretofore, and matters look very serious," answered Mr Pemberton.
"The Governor has requested me to assist in organising a body of
volunteers to co-operate with the loyal natives in this district, and to
keep in check any of the Maoris who may be inclined to rebel, while the
troops are engaged with the main body of the insurgents.  I am afraid
this will compel me to be absent from home for some time."

"May I go with you?" exclaimed Harry.  "I should so like to have some
soldiering."

"No, you must stay at home to take care of Lucy and the farm," answered
Mr Pemberton.  "Val, you are named, and though I would rather have left
you in charge, we must obey the calls of public duty.  Farmer Greening
will assist Harry; Paul and James will probably accompany me."

"Put my name down as a volunteer," exclaimed Mr Spears.  "I'll have my
musket and cartouche-box ready in a trice.  I shall be proud to go out
and fight my country's battles."

"Take my advice, Mr Spears, and stay at home to look after your shop
and the settlement--some must remain behind to guard it," said Mr
Pemberton.

"I am ready for the field, or for garrison duty," answered the little
man, rising, and drawing himself up.  "I must go back with the news to
the village; the people are suspecting that there is something in the
wind."

Mr Pemberton and Valentine soon made the necessary preparations for
their departure, and early the next morning, in company with several
other settlers, set out on their expedition.  As the natives in their
immediate neighbourhood had always appeared very friendly, they had no
anxiety about the safety of Riverside.

Time passed on; news reached the settlement that the volunteers had on
several occasions been engaged, and that the insurgents still made head
against them.  Lucy could not help feeling anxious at the prolonged
absence of her father and brother; but as they wrote word that they were
well, she kept up her spirits, hoping that the natives would soon be
convinced of the uselessness and folly of their rebellion, and that
peace would be established.  She also received visits from Mary Osburn
and other friends, and Mrs Greening never failed to look in on her two
or three times in the day, while her husband kept his eye on the farm,
and assisted Harry in managing affairs.  Lucy had hoped that by this
time it would be safe for Waihoura to pay her a visit, and she had sent
a message inviting her to come to Riverside.  In reply, Waihoura
expressed her thanks for the invitation, but stated that as her father
was absent with many of his people, taking a part in the war, she could
not venture to quit home.  She also mentioned that Hemipo was supposed
to have joined the rebels, as he had not for some time been seen in the
neighbourhood.

A short time after this, as Harry was standing on the bank of the river,
near which his sheep were feeding, he observed a small canoe gliding
down the stream.  A single native was in it, who, as soon as he saw him,
paddled up to where he stood.  The stranger leaped on shore, and asked
Harry, in Maori, pointing to the hill, whether he did not belong to that
place.  As Harry understood very little Maori, he could but imperfectly
comprehend what the man, who appeared to be delivering a message, was
saying.  The stranger, perceiving this, tried to help his meaning by
dumb show, and Harry heard him repeat the name of Hemipo several times.
The man placed himself on the ground, and shut his eyes, as if he was
asleep, then he jumped up, and, moving away, ran up to the spot, and
pretended to be lifting up a person whom he carried to the canoe.  He
did this several times then he flourished his arms as if engaged with a
foe, leaping fiercely about from side to side, and then jumped into his
canoe and began to shove it off, as if he was going to paddle up the
stream.  He returned, however, again coming up to Harry, and, with an
inquiring look, seemed to ask whether he was understood?  Harry asked
him to repeat what he had said, and at length made out, as he thought,
that the stranger wished to warn him that the settlement would be
attacked at night, while the inhabitants were asleep, by Hemipo, whose
object was to carry them off as prisoners, but when this was likely to
take place he could not discover.  The stranger, who was evidently in a
great hurry to be off again, seemed satisfied that he was understood,
and, getting into his canoe, paddled rapidly up the river.

"I wish that I understood the Maori better," thought Harry, "I should
not then be in doubt about the matter; however, it will be as well to be
prepared.  We will fortify our house, and keep a bright look out, and
I'll tell the other people to be on the watch."

He soon after met Toby, and telling him to look to the sheep, hurried
homewards.  Lucy listened calmly to his account.

"There is, I fear, no doubt that some harm is intended us," she
observed.  "But we must pray that it may be averted, and do what we can
to guard against it.  I think our six native labourers are faithful, and
we must place three of them in the house, and send the other three out
as scouts to give us notice of the approach of an enemy.  I propose also
that we have a large pile of firewood made above the house, that, as
soon as danger threatens it may be lighted as a signal to our friends in
the neighbourhood.  You must tell them of our intention, and ask them to
come to our assistance as soon as they see the fire blazing up."

"You ought to have been a man, and you would have made a first-rate
soldier," exclaimed Harry, delighted at Lucy's idea.  "It is the wisest
thing that could be done; I'll tell everybody you thought of it, and I
am sure they will be ready to help us."

"But perhaps they will think that the whole place is to be attacked, and
if so, the men will not be willing to leave their own homes and
families," observed Lucy.

"Oh, but I am sure the Maori intended to warn us especially, for he
pointed to our hill while he was speaking," said Harry.  "Then he
mentioned Hemipo, who probably has a spite against us for rescuing
Waihoura from him.  However, there's no time to be lost.  I'll tell the
men to cut the wood for the bonfire, and go on to let Mr Osburn and our
other friends know about the matter."

Having charged Lucy and Betsy to close the doors and windows, and not to
go out of the house, he went to tell the other people.  The farmer was
out, but he told Mrs Greening what he had heard.

"Oh, it would be terrible if any harm was to happen to Miss Lucy, and
the Squire and Master Val away," exclaimed the good woman; "I'd sooner
our place were all burned down than that--I'll go round to her and
persuade her to come here--then, if the savages go to your house they
will not find her, and if they come here, the farmer and Tobias, I'll
warrant, will fight for her as long as they have got a bullet or a
charge of powder remaining."

Harry warmly thanked Mrs Greening for her generous intentions, though
he doubted very much whether Lucy would consent to leave the house.  He
then hurried on to the village.

Mr Spears, at whose house he first called, was thrown into a great
state of agitation on hearing of his apprehensions.

"I'll go round and tell all the other people, and we will see what can
be done," he exclaimed, getting down his musket.  "We will fight bravely
for our homes and hearths; but dear me, I wish all the people who are
away would come back.  These savages are terrible fellows, and if they
were to come suddenly upon us at night, as you fancy they will, we may
find ourselves in a very unpleasant predicament."

While Mr Spears went off in one direction, Harry continued on to the
house of their friend Mr Osburn, which was at no great distance.  He,
though expressing a hope that the stranger had been amusing himself at
Harry's expense, undertook to collect the rest of the neighbours, and to
make preparations to go to his assistance should the signal-fire give
them notice that the house had been attacked.

"I would offer at once to go up and assist in guarding you," he said.
"But I am afraid that our other friends will not be willing to leave
their own cottages undefended; indeed, I think we shall more effectually
assist you by following the plan you propose.  Still, I would advise you
not to be over anxious about the matter, though you will do wisely to
take the precautions you propose."

Harry, feeling somewhat proud of himself, and tolerably well satisfied
with the arrangements he had made, returned home.  He found the farmer
and Mr Greening at the house.  They had in vain attempted to persuade
Lucy to pass the night at their house--she would not leave Harry, who
said that, as he had charge of the place, nothing would induce him to
desert his post, and they hoped, with the precautions taken, they might
escape the threatened danger.

"Depend upon it, if the savages really come and find us prepared they
will not venture to attack the house," said Harry.

"Well, well, I like your spirit, Master Harry," said the farmer.  "I'll
be on the watch, and if I hear the sound of a musket I shall know what
it means, and will be quickly round with my four natives."

At length the farmer and Mrs Greening took their departure.  Harry had
spoken to the native servants, who seemed fully to understand what was
expected of them, and promised to be vigilant.  Betsy had undertaken to
keep a lantern burning, and to run out at the back-door at the first
signal of danger, and light the bonfire.  Harry tried to persuade Lucy
to go to bed.

"Of course I shall sit up myself and keep watch for anything that
happens," he said; "and if you fall asleep, Lucy, I'll awaken you if
necessary."

After commending themselves to the care of God, and reading together, as
usual, a chapter in the Bible, the two young people sat down with their
books before them to wait the issue of events, Harry, however, every now
and then got up and ran to the door to listen, fancying he heard some
sounds in the distance.  Hour after hour passed by, and neither foe nor
friend appeared.  The night seemed very long, but at length the morning
light streamed through the openings above the shutters.  Harry opened
the door, the air was pure and fresh, and the scene before him appeared
so calm and peaceful, that he felt much inclined to laugh at his own
fears.  The native servants, who had been on the watch, came in also,
and declared that they had seen no one, nor heard the slightest sound
during the night to alarm them.  In a short time farmer Greening
arrived, and expressed his satisfaction at finding that they had had no
cause for alarm.

"Perhaps after all, Master Harry, the man was only passing a joke on
you, though it was as well to be on the safe side, and to be prepared."

Lucy had several visitors during the day, who appeared much inclined to
consider they had been unnecessarily alarmed.

"We may or may not have been," observed Harry, "but I intend to keep the
same look out tonight as before."

The second night passed over like the former, and Harry himself now
owned that unless the stranger purposely intended to deceive him, he
must have misunderstood his meaning.

The evening came on, the cows had been milked, the pigs and poultry fed,
and other duties attended to.  They were in their sitting-room reading,
when Betsy came in and announced Mr Spears.

"I hope I don't intrude, Miss Lucy," he said, putting his head in at the
doorway in his usual half-hesitating manner, "but I could not shut up my
house for the night without coming to inquire how you are getting on.
Well, Master Harry, the Maoris who were to attack us have turned out to
be phantoms after all, pleasanter foes to fight with than real savages.
However, you behaved very well, my young friend, and I hope you will get
a quiet night's rest, and sleep free from alarm."

"Thank you for your kind wishes," answered Lucy, "but still I hope that
you and our other friends will be on the watch, for I cannot feel
altogether secure till our father and brother return."

"Never fear, Miss Lucy, we will be ready if your phantom foes come.
Pardon me, Master Harry, for calling them phantom foes, but such they
are, I suspect.  Ah! ah! ah!" and Mr Spears laughed at his own conceit.
As Lucy did not wish to encourage the little man, she did not invite
him to sit down, and, somewhat to her relief, he soon went away.

Mr Spears had reached home, and was shutting up his cottage, when,
looking towards the hill, he saw the beacon fire blazing up.  He rushed
back for his musket, and began to load it in great haste; but in vain he
pulled the trigger, it would not go off--no wonder, for he had forgotten
to put on a cap.  Not discovering this, having knocked at the doors of
his immediate neighbours, and told them that the settlement was
attacked, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him to Mr Osburn.
Though that gentleman turned out immediately, it was sometime before he
could collect the rest of the inhabitants, when some with firearms, and
others with pitchforks, or any weapons they could lay hands on, rushed
up the hill towards Mr Pemberton's farm.  They were joined on the way
by farmer Greening and Tobias.  All round the house seemed quiet, and
not a sign of a Maori could be discovered.

"There's been some trick played," said farmer Greening, "for all my
servants went off this evening, and I should not be surprised that Mr
Pemberton's have done the same; but I hope Master Harry has kept the
door shut, and not let the enemy inside."

As may be supposed, on reaching the house, their consternation and grief
was very great when they discovered that the inmates had gone; and from
the overturned chairs, and the back and front doors being open, their
alarm for the safety of their young friends was greatly increased.

"The savages have undoubtedly come and carried them off, but we may yet
be in time to overtake them, if we can ascertain in what direction they
have gone," said Mr Osburn.

"See, the orchard gate is open," said farmer Greening.  "They must have
gone this way, by the path which leads to the river."  They went on a
little farther, when Tobias picked up a handkerchief.

"That must be Miss Lucy's," he exclaimed, "and probably dropped on
purpose," observed Mr Osburn.

On reaching the river, no signs, however, of the savages nor their
captives were to be seen; and though they hurried along the bank for
some distance, they were at length compelled to return, in a state of
increased anxiety for their young friends, to the settlement.



CHAPTER NINE.

THE RESCUE.

LUCY AND HARRY CARRIED OFF BY HEMIPO, WHO TAKES THEM TO HIS PAH.--LUCY
EXPLAINS THE TRUTH TO A NATIVE GIRL WHO ATTENDS HER.--WAIHOURA APPEARS,
AND ASSISTS THEM TO ESCAPE.--ENCOUNTER HEMIPO, WHO IS CONQUERED BY
RAHANA.--HEMIPO ALLOWED TO GO FREE.--HAPPY RETURN TO RIVERSIDE WITH
WAIHOURA AND HER PARTY.--GREAT REJOICINGS.--HEMIPO BECOMES A
CHRISTIAN.--WAIHOURA MARRIES RAHANA, AND THE SETTLEMENT FLOURISHES.

Lucy and Harry were spending their evening, as was their usual custom,
Harry reading aloud while his sister sat by his side working.

Mr Spears had not long gone away, when a slight knock was heard at the
door.

"I do believe it must be that Mr Spears come back again," observed
Betsy, getting up to open it.  As she did so, what was her horror to see
the figure of a tall Maori warrior, his face painted red, with his merai
or axe in his hand.

"Run, Miss Lucy! run, Master Harry, and hide yourselves!" she exclaimed,
attempting to push back the door.  Her efforts were vain, the savage
dashed it open and stalked in, followed by a dozen or more Maoris.

"Light the bonfire!" exclaimed Lucy,--and Betsy, springing by her, made
her escape at the back-door.  Harry tried to drag off Lucy in the same
direction, but they were both instantly seized by the Maoris, two of
whom sprang after Betsy.  Scarcely a word was spoken by any of the
natives, and Lucy had been too much agitated and alarmed to shriek out.
The leader, in whom, by his sinister features and fierce looks, Lucy
recognised Hemipo, had raised his weapon as if to strike Harry, but he
restrained himself on finding that there was no opposition.  He and one
of his companions now bound Harry's arms, making signs to him that if he
made any noise his brains would be dashed out.  Two others then lifted
up Lucy, and taking a cloak which hung on the wall, threw it round her.
Plunder did not appear to be their object; for, although numerous
articles were lying about which would have been of value to them, none
were taken.  The savages now lifted up Lucy and Harry in their arms and
carried them out of the house.  Harry looked round, hoping to see some
of the native servants.  No one appeared.

"I hope, at all events, that Betsy may have set light to the
signal-fire, that if we are carried away our friends will come in
pursuit of us," he said to himself.

Great was his disappointment when directly afterwards he saw Betsy
brought along in the arms of two of the savages.

"I have done it though, Master Harry," she exclaimed, loud enough for
him to hear.  "I had just time to throw the candle in among the sticks
and paper before they caught me,--I do not think they saw what I had
been about, or they would have stopped and put it out."

A savage growl, and the hand of one of her captors placed over her
mouth, prevented Betsy from saying any more.

The whole party now moved down the hill at a rapid rate towards the
river.  On reaching the bank the young captives were placed on board a
canoe, several of which were collected at the spot.  Harry felt a little
relieved when his arms were unbound, and he was allowed to sit at his
ease beside Lucy.  The savages evidently supposed that he would not
attempt to leap out and swim on shore.

The flotilla shoved off.  The night was very dark, but the Maoris, well
acquainted with the river, navigated dexterously amid the rocks and
occasional rapids in their course.  Now and then the water could be seen
bubbling up on either side, and sometimes leaping over the gunwale, and
once or twice so much came in that Harry feared the canoe would be
swamped.

"If we are upset, stick to me, Lucy," he whispered.  "I'll swim with you
to the shore, and we will then run off and try and make our escape."
Lucy felt confident of her young brother's courage, but feared that
there was little prospect of his succeeding in the attempt.  Poor Betsy
shrieked out with alarm.  A threatening sound from the man who steered
the canoe warned her to keep silence.

There had been for sometime a strong wind, it now increased, and blowing
directly against them, greatly impeded the progress of the canoes.
Still the Maoris persevered.  At length a loud clap of thunder burst
from the sky.  It was succeeded by several terrific peals, while vivid
flashes of forked lightning darting forth showed that they were passing
between high rugged cliffs which rose on either side of the stream,
overhung with trees, amid which the wind roared and whistled as they
waved to and fro above their heads, threatening every instant, torn up
by the roots, to fall over and crush them.  The thunder rattled louder
than ever, reverberating among the cliffs.  Just then a flash, brighter
than its predecessors, which came hissing along close to the canoe,
showed Harry the savage features of Hemipo, who was sitting in the stern
steering.  Still the canoe went on, indeed, as far as Harry could see
there was no place on either side where they could have landed, and he
earnestly prayed that, should any accident happen, it might be further
on, where there would be a hope of reaching the shore.  Lucy sat with
her hands clasped in his, and her calmness and self-possession gave him
courage.

"Oh, what a dear brave little sister mine is," he thought to himself.
"I would willingly give up my life to save her's.  I wonder what these
savages will do with us.  They surely cannot be so barbarous as to
intend to kill her,--they may knock me on the head very likely, and I
only wonder they did not do so at first, it would have been more like
their usual custom."

The rain was now falling in torrents.  Harry drew the cloaks which had
been thrown over Lucy and Betsy closer round them.  He was himself
quickly wet through, but for that he cared little.

Though it was evident that the paddlers were straining every nerve to
urge the canoe onwards, he could judge by the appearance of the cliffs
that they were making but slow progress, sometimes, indeed, they were
almost brought to a standstill, then again they would redouble their
efforts, and the wind lulling for a short time, they would stem the
rapid current and get into calmer water.  It was difficult to judge,
under the circumstances, how time went by, but it seemed to Harry that
the whole night was thus spent.  Still the darkness continued, and hour
after hour passed.

At length the banks came more clearly into view, and he could
distinguish the other canoes in company.  Suddenly the cliffs on either
side ceased, and he found that they had entered a lake.  Covered,
however, as it was with foaming waves stirred up by the storm, it seemed
scarcely possible for the canoes to make their way across it.  After
they had in vain attempted to do so, and several of them had been nearly
swamped, Harry perceived that they were steering towards the shore.
They made their way up a small inlet, where, sheltered from the gale,
the canoes at length floated quietly, and their crews set to work to
bail them out.  This being done, Harry observed that they were examining
their muskets, and fresh priming them, lest they should have become damp
with the rain.  He hoped from this that they had not yet reached
Hemipo's district, and were still in that of some friendly tribe.
Meantime a man was sent on shore, who ran to the summit of a
neighbouring height, where Harry saw him looking round, as if to
ascertain whether any one was approaching.

On his return, after he had given his report, Hemipo landed, and with
scant ceremony dragged his prisoners out of the canoe, and signed to
them that they were to accompany him.  Eight of the savages immediately
landed and closed round them.  Having issued orders to the remainder, he
led the way towards the entrance of a valley which extended up from the
water.  Lucy and Betsy could with difficulty walk after having been so
long cramped up in the canoe.  Harry begged his sister to lean on him,
that he might help her along, and poor Betsy did her best to keep up
with them, for the savages showed no inclination to slacken their pace.
Every now and then, indeed, one of them gave her a rough push to make
her move faster.  Harry felt very indignant, but knew that it would be
useless to expostulate, and dreaded lest Lucy might be treated in the
same way.  The valley through which they were proceeding he found ran
parallel with the lake, and concluded, as was the case, that it would at
length conduct them to an upper part of the stream, which, had it not
been for the storm, Hemipo intended to have reached in the canoes.  The
chief stalked on ahead, every now and then turning round to order his
followers to move faster.  The valley, as they proceeded, narrowed
considerably; the sides, composed of wild rugged rocks with overhanging
trees crowning their summits, rising precipitously on either hand.
Harry observed that the chief, as they advanced, looked cautiously
ahead, as if he thought it possible that an enemy might appear to
intercept him.  Suddenly he stopped altogether, and addressed a few
words to his followers, while he pointed up the valley.  What he said
Harry could not understand, but several of the savages directly
afterwards drew their merais from their belts, and cast fierce looks at
their captives, which too clearly indicated their cruel designs.

"Oh, our dear father, my poor brother," murmured Lucy, as her eye
glanced at the savages' weapons, and she clung closer to Harry, thinking
of those she loved more than of herself.  "Yet they cannot be so cruel."

"Are they going to kill us?" cried Betsy.  "Dear, dear Miss Lucy," and
she stretched out her arms as if to protect her young mistress.

After waiting a short time Hemipo ordered two of his men to go ahead,
apparently to ascertain if the road was clear.  They seemed satisfied
that such was the case, for at a sign from them he and the rest
proceeded as before.  Harry, as they advanced, could not help looking up
frequently at the cliffs on either side, and more than once he fancied
he saw some person moving among the rocks as if observing them, while at
the same time endeavouring to remain concealed.  If such was the case,
the person managed to escape the keen eyes of the Maoris, for Hemipo
went on, evidently not supposing that he was watched.  At length they
emerged from the defile, and proceeding over a more open, though still a
hilly and picturesque country, till they again came in sight of the
river.  By this time Lucy and Betsy were nearly dropping with fatigue,
and even Harry, though accustomed to exercise, felt very tired, but the
savages still urged them on, regardless of their weary legs.  Harry felt
very indignant, but Lucy entreated him not to show his resentment.

At last a hill, round the base of which the river made its way, rose
directly before them, with a stockade on its summit, similar to that
surrounding Ihaka's village.  Hemipo led the way towards it, and
ascended a narrow path, at the top of which appeared a gateway, with a
huge hideous figure above it.  As he approached a number of women and
children and old men issued forth eyeing his captives with no pleasant
looks.  Scarcely a word, however, was exchanged between the inhabitants
and him till they entered the pah, when the whole party seated
themselves on the ground, each of them singling out one of the new
comers, and began rubbing their noses together, howling and weeping,
while the tears, in copious torrents, flowed down their brown cheeks.
Under other circumstances, Harry, who with his sister and Betsy, were
left standing alone, would have felt inclined to laugh heartily at the
odd scene, but matters were too serious to allow him to do so now.

After the savages had rubbed their noses, howled, and shed a sufficiency
of tears to satisfy their feelings, they got up with dry eyes and
unconcerned looks, as if nothing of the sort had occurred.  They then
came round their captives, who were allowed to stand unmolested, while
Hemipo was apparently giving an account of his adventures.  Lucy and
Betsy trembled as they saw the fierce glances cast at them during the
chief's address; their lives seemed to hang on a thread, for any moment
his auditors, whom he appeared to be working into a fury, might rush
forward and cut them down with the merais, which, ever and anon, they
clutched as if eager to use them.  At length he ceased, when another
orator got up, and appeared to be endeavouring to calm the angry
feelings of the assembly.  Others spoke in the same strain, and at last
the orator, who had opposed Hemipo, having gained his object, so it
seemed, came up to the captives and signed to them to accompany him.
Leading them to a large wahre on one side of the pah, he told them to
enter.  Lucy, overcome with fatigue, sank on a heap of fern, which
covered part of the floor.

"Cheer up," said Harry, "they do not intend to kill us, and I hope that
chief, who looks more good-natured than Hemipo, will think of bringing
us some food.  I'll let him know that we want it."  Harry went back to
the door at which the chief was still standing, and made signs that they
were very hungry.  The chief evidently understood him, and in a short
time a girl appeared with a basket of sweet potatoes, some baked fish,
and a bowl of water.  Lucy thanked her warmly in Maori, saying that she
might some day have the opportunity of rewarding her, adding--

"Our people will be grateful for any kindness shown us, and though we
have been most cruelly carried away from our home, yet they will not
revenge themselves on the innocent."  The girl, whom Lucy supposed from
her appearance to be a slave, looked very much surprised.

"Our religion teaches us that we should forgive our enemies, and do good
to those who injure us, and therefore still more should we be grateful
to all who do us good," she continued.  "Do you understand that?"  The
girl shook her head, and made signs to Lucy and her companions to eat
while the food was hot; they needed, indeed, no second bidding, the girl
standing by while they discussed the meal.

Lucy feeling the importance of gaining the good-will of any person in
the village, again spoke to the girl, much to the same effect as before.
The latter evidently understood her, and made a sign that if discovered
in helping them to escape she would be killed.  Lucy's words had,
however, it seemed, made an impression on her mind, for when she stooped
down to take up the basket and bowl, she whispered that she would do
what she could to be of use to them.

They were now left alone.  Harry entreated his companions to go to
sleep, declaring that he was able to sit up and keep watch; and in spite
of their anxiety, they were so weary, that in a few minutes their eyes
closed, and they happily forgot all that had occurred.  Harry kept awake
as well as he could, and every now and then he observed women and
children, and sometimes men, peering at them through the open door of
the hut.  Discovering, however, a chick mat spread on a framework
leaning against the side of the hut, he conjectured that it was intended
to use as a door, and, accordingly, placing it across the entrance, shut
out the intruders.  Having now nothing to distract his attention, he
very soon dropped off to sleep.  It was dark when he awoke, and as there
were no sounds in the village he concluded that it was night, and he
hoped that they might therefore be allowed to rest in quiet.  He went to
the door of the hut and looked out.  No one was stirring, the storm had
ceased, and the stars were shining brightly overhead.  He again
carefully closed the entrance, securing it with some poles, so that it
could not be opened from the outside, and throwing himself on the fern
at Lucy's feet, was soon fast asleep.

He was awakened by hearing some one attempting to open the door--the
daylight was streaming in through the crevices--on pulling it aside the
slave girl, who had brought their supper, appeared with a basket of food
and a bowl of water, as before.  The light awoke Lucy and Betsy, who
seemed refreshed by their slumbers, though their faces were still pale
and anxious.  The girl pointed to the food and bade them eat, but seemed
unwilling to stay.

"Let us say our prayers, Harry, as we should do at home, before
breakfast," said Lucy, "though we have not a Bible to read."

They knelt down, and Lucy offered up a prayer of thanksgiving to God for
having preserved them, and for further protection, while the Maori girl
stood by wondering what they were about.  She then hurried away, as they
supposed, from having received orders not to remain with them.  They
were left alone all the morning, and at noon the girl brought them a
further supply of food.

"This looks as if the Maoris did not intend to do us any harm, perhaps
they expect to get a ransom for us," observed Harry.

"I trust so," said Lucy, "and I am sure our friends would pay it should
our father and Val be still absent from home; but, perhaps, Hemipo has
some other object in carrying us off."

"What can that be?" asked Harry.  "The idea came into my mind, and I
fear it is too likely that he has done so, in order to get Waihoura into
his power.  If she believes that our lives are in danger, she will, I am
sure, be ready to do anything to save them," answered Lucy.

"How should she know that we have been carried away," asked Harry.

"She will suspect something when our labourers suddenly return to her
village, and will send to ascertain what has occurred," observed Lucy.

"If it was not for your sake, Lucy, I would run every risk rather than
let the poor girl fall into the power of the savage," exclaimed Harry.
"I hope that our father and Val, and the volunteers, will find out where
we have been carried to, and will come to attack the pah and rescue us."

"That would cause great loss of life, and, perhaps, seal our fate,"
answered Lucy.  "I have been praying, and He who does not allow a
sparrow to fall to the ground without knowing it, will arrange matters
for the best.  The knowledge that He does take care of us should give us
confidence and hope."

"I am sure you are right," observed Harry, after a few minutes
reflection.  "Still we cannot help talking of what we wish."

In the afternoon, Harry going to the door of the hut, heard voices as if
in loud discussion at a distance, and observing no one about, he crept
on among the huts till he came in sight of a number of people seated on
the ground, apparently holding a debate, for one after the other got up
and addressed the rest.  Keeping himself concealed behind the hut, he
watched them for some time, at length he saw Hemipo and a body of armed
men issue out by the gate.  He crept back to the hut with this
information.  As far as he could ascertain, only the old men, and women,
and children, were left in the pah.

Late in the evening the slave girl again visited them, and, as she
appeared less anxious than before to hurry away, Lucy spoke to her.  At
last she answered--

"What Manima can do she will do for the pakehas, but they must wait--
perhaps something will happen."  She said this in a very low voice, and
taking up the basket and bowl, hurried away.  Harry found that no one
interfered with him as he walked about outside the hut; but he did not
like to go far from Lucy and Betsy, and darkness coming on, he returned.
After he had closed the door, they offered up their prayers as usual,
and lying down, soon fell asleep.

Lucy was awakened by feeling a hand pressed on her shoulder.  She was
inclined to cry out, when she heard a low voice saying in Maori--

"Don't be afraid, call your brother and Betsy."  Lucy, to her
astonishment, recognised the voice of Waihoura, and without waiting to
ask questions, awakened Harry and Betsy.  A few words served to explain
what she had heard, and they at once got up and followed Waihoura out of
the hut.  She led the way among the wahres the inmates of which, they
knew from the sounds which issued forth, were fast asleep.  They soon
reached the inner end of the pah, behind the public store-house, the
largest building in the village, when Waihoura pointed to an opening in
the stockade.  It was so narrow that only slight people could have
passed through it.  Waihoura, taking Lucy's hand, led her through it,
but Betsy almost stuck as she made the attempt.  With some assistance
from Harry, she however succeeded in getting on the other side, when he
following, found that they were standing on the top of a cliff.
Waihoura again taking Lucy's hand, showed them a narrow and zigzag path
which led down it.  They followed her, as she cautiously descended
towards the river, which Harry saw flowing below them.

On reaching the edge of the water Waihoura stepped into a canoe, which
had hitherto been hidden by a rock.  The rest of the party entering it,
two men who were sitting with their paddles ready, immediately urged the
canoe out into the stream, down which they impelled it with rapid
strokes, while Waihoura, taking another paddle, guided its course.  Not
a word was spoken, for all seemed to know exactly what was to be done.
They had entirely lost sight of the hills on which the pah stood, before
Waihoura uttered a word.  She then, in a whisper, addressed Lucy, who
was sitting close to her, apparently considering, even then, that great
caution was necessary.  They were passing between high cliffs, amid
which the slightest sound, Harry rightly guessed, might be carried, and
heard by any one posted on them.  The paddlers redoubled their efforts,
till at length they got into a broader part of the river.  Lucy then, in
a low voice, told Harry that Waihoura had heard of their capture from
the labourers, who had returned home, and had immediately formed a plan
for their rescue.  She had friends in Hemipo's pah, for all were not as
bad as he was, and among them was Manima, who belonged to a friendly
tribe, and had been carried off some time before by Hemipo, with others,
as a slave.  She had herself, with a party of her people, immediately
set out, and knowing the route they would have to take, had remained in
ambush with the intention of rescuing them; but fearing that Hemipo
would put them to death should he find himself attacked, she resolved to
employ stratagem to set them at liberty.  She had at once sent a message
to Manima, and on finding that Hemipo had set out on another expedition,
she had herself that very night entered the pah in disguise, and
arranged the plan which had thus far been carried out.

"She tells us," added Lucy, "that her only fear arises from the
possibility of meeting Hemipo, who has gone down the river in his war
canoes, though for what object she could not ascertain.  She advises us
to keep very silent, as should he be anywhere near, he is certain to
have scouts on the watch, though we may hope to escape them in the
darkness of night."

"As I said of you, Lucy, she would make a first-rate General," observed
Harry, "and I hope for her sake, as well as ours, that she will prove
herself a successful leader."

Scarcely had Harry spoken when a loud voice hailed them from the shore,
and a bullet whistled close to them.

"Don't cry out," whispered Waihoura.  "The man will take some time to
load again, and we may get beyond his reach."  Her hopes were, however,
vain, for directly afterwards several canoes darted from behind some
rocks, and surrounding them, their canoe was towed to the shore.

"They are Hemipo's people," said Waihoura.  "But keep silence, he is not
among them, and they will merely keep us prisoners till he comes, and
something may happen in the meantime."

The country was tolerably level beyond the bank where the canoes lay.
There was sufficient light from the stars to enable Harry to see for
some distance inland, and he recognised the spot as the same place at
which they had been taken on shore on their way up the river.  After
waiting a considerable time, he observed a party of men moving along
from the direction of the valley, and coming towards the canoes.  He was
afraid that they were Hemipo and his band.

"How will the savage treat us, and those who have been trying to aid our
escape?" he thought.  Just then he caught sight of another and very much
larger party coming from nearly the opposite direction.  The first
stopped and seemed trying to hide themselves behind some rocks and
bushes, but the others had seen them, and uttering loud cries, rushed
forward, then came the flashes and rattle of musketry, with reiterated
cries for a few minutes, when the smaller party giving way, attempted to
fly, but were quickly surrounded.  The people in the canoes, on seeing
this, shoved off from the bank, and endeavoured to drag Waihoura's canoe
with them.  The crew resisted; a blow on his head, however, struck down
one of the men, and it appeared too probable that their enemies would
succeed in their object.

They had got out into the middle of the stream, when several more canoes
were seen rounding a point below them.  Waihoura uttered a loud cry, and
the canoes came rapidly paddling towards them.  Their captors, on seeing
this, allowed her to go free, and began making their way as fast as they
could up the river.

"Who are you?" asked Waihoura, as the strangers' canoes approached.

"We are Rahana's people, and he ordered us to come here to stop Hemipo
from descending the river, while he proceeded on by land," was the
answer.

"Then it is Rahana who has gained the victory," exclaimed Waihoura, and,
escorted by her friends, she guided her canoe towards the shore, Harry
taking the paddle of the poor man who had been struck down.  They
quickly landed, when a messenger despatched to Rahana brought him to
where Waihoura and her English companions were seated on some rocks by
the bank of the river.  He spoke earnestly for a few minutes to
Waihoura.  Lucy, from what he said, learned that she had sent to ask his
assistance, and that ascertaining the proceedings of Hemipo, he had set
out with all his followers to meet him and compel him to restore the
prisoners he had carried off.

"He and many of his people are now in my hands, for before they could
escape we surrounded them and captured them all," he said, addressing
Lucy and Harry.  "They deserve death,--do you wish that we should kill
them, or give them into the hands of your countrymen?"

"Oh no, no, spare their lives," exclaimed Lucy.  "We should do good to
our enemies, and we would far rather let them go free.  We are thankful
to have been rescued from their power, but more than that we do not
desire."

"That is a strange thing the pakeha girl says," remarked Rahana to
Waihoura.  "Is it according to the religion you desire to teach me?"

"Oh yes, yes," exclaimed Waihoura.  "I know that Lucy is right.  She has
told me that He who came to die and be punished that men might enjoy
happiness hereafter, blessed His enemies, and did good to those who
injured Him."

"Then they shall live," said Rahana.  "I will set Hemipo free, and tell
him that it is by the wish of the pakehas, and that he must henceforth
be their friend and ally, and abandoning the cruel customs of our
people, learn the good religion, which has made them act thus towards
him."

Lucy and Harry knowing the alarm their disappearance must have caused to
Mrs Greening and their other friends, were anxious to return home
immediately.  Waihoura offered to accompany them, and begged Rahana that
he would allow one of his canoes to convey them down the river.

"I will myself take charge of them, and I shall be proud to deliver them
in safety to their friends," he answered.  "I will, however, first obey
their wish, and set Hemipo and his followers free, after I have deprived
them of their arms, which belong to my warriors."

While the canoes were getting ready for the voyage down the river, fires
were lighted, and fish and other provisions were cooked, some of which
were presented to Waihoura and her friends, greatly to Harry's
satisfaction, who declared that he had seldom felt so hungry in his
life; though Lucy and Betsy, still scarcely recovered from their
agitation, partook of the repast but sparingly.  Meantime Rahana had
gone back to where he had left his warriors and their prisoners.  He
shortly returned, accompanied by another person.  As they approached the
spot where Waihoura and her friends sat, the light of the fire showed
that Rahana's companion was Hemipo.  He looked greatly crestfallen, but
recovering himself, he addressed Waihoura.  Neither Lucy nor Harry could
clearly understand him; but they gathered from what he said that he
desired to express his gratitude for having his life spared, and sorrow
for his conduct towards her, as also for having carried off her friends,
and that if they would send a missionary to him he would gladly listen
to his instruction.  It evidently cost him much to speak as he did.  She
was glad when the interview was over, and Rahana told him that he might
now depart in peace.

Waihoura and her friends were now conducted to the largest canoe, in
which Rahana also took his seat.  They had not proceeded far down the
river when day broke, and the neighbouring woods burst forth with a
chorus of joyful song, the sky overhead was blue and pure, the waters
bright and clear, and the grass and shrubs, which grew on the banks,
sparkled with bright dewdrops.

"See, see," exclaimed Harry.  "There's a whole fleet of boats coming up
the river."  Rahana, on observing them, went ahead of his flotilla with
a flag waving at the bow of his canoe.

"There is our father, there is Val," exclaimed Harry.  The canoe was
soon alongside one of the largest boats.  A few words explained all that
had occurred.  Mr Pemberton and his companions had returned home the
day after his children and servant had been carried off, when an
expedition had immediately been organised to sail up the river and
attack Hemipo's pah, it being at once suspected that he had committed
the outrage.

As there was now no necessity to proceed further, the boats' bows were
turned down the stream, Harry, with his sister and Betsy, having gone on
board Mr Pemberton's.  Accompanied by the canoes, a strong current
being in their favour, they soon reached "Riverside," where the safe
return of the young people caused almost as much satisfaction as the
news which had just before arrived of the termination of the war.

Waihoura soon afterwards became the wife of Rahana, who built a house
after the English model, on some land which he owned in the
neighbourhood near the river, and receiving instruction from their
friends, both became true and earnest Christians.  They had the
satisfaction also of hearing that Hemipo, who had gladly received Mr
Marlow and other missionaries, had, with all his people, become
Christians, and he showed by his changed life and peaceable conduct,
that he was one in reality as well as in name.

"Riverside" continued to increase and prosper, and protected by the
friendly natives who surrounded it, escaped the disasters from which
many other places in subsequent years suffered.  Honest Mr Spears must
not be forgotten.  Though still showing a readiness to help everybody,
having learned the necessity of attending to his own affairs, he became
one of the leading tradesmen in the place.  Both Mr Pemberton and
farmer Greening had, in course of time, the satisfaction of seeing their
children married, and settled happily around them.

THE END.






End of Project Gutenberg's Waihoura, the Maori Girl, by W.H.G. Kingston

*** 