Marriages and Families Diversity and

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CHAPTER FIVE
DATING, COUPLING, AND MATE SELECTION

True/False Multiple Choice Short Answer Essay Total Qs

Remember 21 46 67
Understand 9 14 1 24
Apply 1 3 1 5
Analyze 1 1 2
Evaluate 2 2
Create
31 64 5 100

TRUE-FALSE

1. Dating is commonly practiced in all civilized countries.

Answer: False
Page: 127
Difficulty=1

2. The process of mate selection is considered by many sociologists to be a feature found in most societies.

Answer: True
Page: 127
Difficulty=1

3. In some cultures, mate selection begins as early as infancy.

Answer: True
1
Copyright © 2018 Pearson Education, Inc., NJ 07458. All rights reserved.
 Page: 127
Difficulty=1

4. In the mate selection process, “going steady” is the same as being engaged.

Answer: False
Pages: 131
Difficulty=2

5. The socialization function of dating has little to do with enhancing the ego or sense of self.

Answer: False
Page: 126
Difficulty=1

6. Anticipatory socialization is directed toward learning future roles.

Answer: True
Page: 127
Difficulty=1

7. In the United States, adolescent dating is primarily reserved for recreational purposes.

Answer: True
Pages: 127
Difficulty=1

8. Individuals sometimes date in order to boost their own status and prestige.

Answer: True
Page: 126
Difficulty=1

9. The sex ratio is partially responsible for the high incidence of interracial dating among African American
women.

Answer: True
Page: 148
Difficulty=2

10. According to exchange theory, an individual will break off a relationship when the costs outweigh the
benefits.

Answer: True
Page: 145
Difficulty=2

11. Susan and Cliff have an ongoing relationship. Cliff wants to get married right away but Susan does not.
According to the “principle of least interest” Susan has more power in the relationship.

Answer: True
Page: 145
Difficulty=3

12. Social scientists see much similarity between the commercial marketplace and the process of mate selection.
2
Copyright © 2018 Pearson Education, Inc., NJ 07458. All rights reserved.
 Answer: True
Page: 146
Difficulty=2

13. A large dowry increases a female’s bargaining power during the mate selection stage.

Answer: True
Page: 146
Difficulty=2

14. The concept of exchanging resources is no longer applicable to the mate selection process in the United
States.

Answer: False
Page: 146
Difficulty=1

15. It is common worldwide for men to date younger women but relatively new for older women to date younger
men.

Answer: True
Page: 155
Difficulty=1

16. Today, a good number of older women find they can do without men.

Answer: True
Page: 137
Difficulty=1

17. Sociologists typically measure class using a composite scale consisting of level of educational attainment,
occupation, and level of income.

Answer: True
Page: 140
Difficulty=1

18. Black women are the most segregated group in our society when it comes to relationships.

Answer: True
Page: 148
Difficulty=1

19. The low sex ratio limits the dating and mate selection options of African American women.

Answer: True
Page: 148
Difficulty=1

20. Men’s dating scripts include initiating sexual behavior, while women’s scripts include controlling sexual
behavior.

Answer: True
Page: 142
3
Copyright © 2018 Pearson Education, Inc., NJ 07458. All rights reserved.
 Difficulty=2

21. People from middle and upper classes tend to be viewed as more attractive dating partners than people from
the lower classes.

Answer: True
Page: 141
Difficulty=1

22. For more and more teens and college women and men, marriage is not necessarily an immediate goal.

Answer: True
Page: 125
Difficulty=1

23. The term “pool of eligibles” is used to refer to all individuals who are unmarried.

Answer: False
Page: 146
Difficulty=1

24. Homogamy is the term used exclusively to describe a gay or lesbian relationship.

Answer: False
Page: 147
Difficulty=1

25. Mario, who is Hispanic, and Tanya, who is Black, are dating each other. Social scientists would say that
they are involved in an exogamous relationship.

Answer: True
Page: 147
Difficulty=2

26. The marriage squeeze has a more significant impact on men than women.

Answer: False
Page: 147
Difficulty=2

27. Diane, who has a master’s degree and is the principal of an elementary school, is married to a plumber with
just a high school diploma. Social analysts would say that Diane’s marriage represents a case of hypogamy.

Answer: True
Page: 149
Difficulty=2

28. Physical appearance is an important factor in mate selection.

Answer: True
Page: 151
Difficulty=1

29. Dating is an activity practiced only by young people.

4
Copyright © 2018 Pearson Education, Inc., NJ 07458. All rights reserved.
 Answer: False
Page: 149
Difficulty=1

30. The majority of individuals who are shopping for a mate frequent singles bars as a meeting place.

Answer: False
Page: 152
Difficulty=1

31. Researchers report that a female will usually end a relationship once she discovers that her partner is a
potential abuser.

Answer: False
Page: 157
Difficulty=1

MULTIPLE CHOICE

32. Dating is not a common practice in

(a) Australia.
(b) India.
(c) Canada.
(d) Great Britain.

Answer: (b)
Page: 127
Difficulty=1

33. Sociologists use the term __________ to refer loosely to the wide range of behaviors and social relationships
individuals engage in prior to marriage and that lead to long or short-term pairing or coupling.
(a) swinging
(b) homogamy
(c) mate selection
(d) endogamy

Answer: (c)
Page: 126
Difficulty=1

34. __________ is a process of selecting a mate and developing an intimate relationship.

(a) Dating
(b) Going steady
(c) Courtship
(d) Coupling

Answer: (c)
Page: 130-131
Difficulty=1

35. In some cultures, mate selection begins as early as

(a) infancy.
(b) 6 years of age.
(c) 8 years of age.
(d) 13 years of age.
5
Copyright © 2018 Pearson Education, Inc., NJ 07458. All rights reserved.
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Maori who owned the gun had probably forgotten to put in the wad over
the ball, which had naturally rolled out of the barrel long before the gun
was fired.[2]

[2] A fact.

For all his outward coolness, he was shaken and spent, and it was only
by the supremest effort that he managed to control his quivering nerves
and stand there, calm and smiling, as if he had anticipated this very result.

Te Karearea was almost as frightened as were his men, and the

temptation he felt to run along with them warred hard against the
necessity for keeping up his dignity in their presence. But his iron will
conquered, and presently he turned to George and said with a forced
smile: 'Teach me your magic, Hortoni, I pray you. We Hau-haus claim to
be invulnerable in battle, but——'

But George, now that the strain was lifted, felt suddenly limp and
intensely desirous of being left alone. So with a protesting wave of the
hand he cut into the chief's speech. 'Another time, O Hawk of the
Mountain, we will talk of this wonder. Now I go to give thanks to my
God, who is stronger than TUMATAUENGA, and who twice within the
hour has saved me from death.'

He was about to withdraw when a thought struck him, and, pointing to

the prostrate Pokeke, he said: 'I claim that man to do with as I will.'

'He is yours,' Te Karearea assented laconically, and, closely followed

by Terence, George entered the bush and disappeared.

CHAPTER XVI

SPLENDIDE MENDAX
 George, as has been said, had never thought of the simple explanation
of the amazing incident just related; but he readily accepted it when
suggested by Terence, for his healthy mind revolted from the constant
association with the apparently supernatural which circumstances forced
upon him. It was better and wiser, he felt, to esteem these mysterious
happenings capable of eventual solution, than to drift into the habit of
regarding them as inexplicable by natural means.

'If it ever comes to a fight, you will have it all your own way,' laughed
Terence, 'for none of them will have the nerve to tackle you.'

'When I left home, I had no idea that I should become a person of such
importance,' George said, smiling. 'Come; let us get back to the chief.'

As they appeared at the edge of the clearing, Te Karearea came up all

smiles and explanations; but the Hau-haus looked askance at them, those
nearest to them hastening to increase their distance.

'I have postponed the march for two hours,' the chief informed them. 'I
had no wish to disturb your devotions, Hortoni, and also, I did not wish to
enter the pah without you. Meantime, Kawainga makes ready your meal.'

George acknowledged the courtesy, and, inquiring what had become of

Pokeke, was informed that he had been sent ahead to the pah with Paeroa
for his guard.

'Has anything been heard of the Arawa spies?' asked George.

'No,' replied the chief, with twinkling eyes. 'It was Paeroa who judged
them to be Arawas; but we know better.'

'We!' echoed George. 'What can I know about them?' He spoke

haughtily, while Terence, to whom he rapidly interpreted, assumed what
he honestly believed to be an expression of most virtuous indignation.

'You can answer that best, Hortoni,' the chief said quickly; 'but, even
for one so beloved of the gods as yourself, it is unwise to run too many
risks.'

'You speak in riddles,' George began still more distantly, when he was
interrupted by an outrageous noise at the outskirts of the camp, where two
men were cutting chips from an immense log. In the twinkling of an eye
this innocent occupation changed to a furious conflict; for six strange
Maoris sprang from the fern behind the giant trunk and savagely attacked
the hewers, whose roars for aid set the Hau-haus rushing towards them
from all sides.

Realising that they could not fight a host, the six spies—for such they
were—took to their heels; but one remained behind, cloven from shoulder
to midriff by a mighty stroke from a hewer's axe. The others got clear
away, for Te Karearea sternly checked pursuit, and, running up to the big
log, hastily scrutinised the corpse.

'Arawa!' he shouted excitedly. 'Dogs of Arawa! They it was who spied

upon us last night.'

He spurned the body with his foot, and the Hau-haus instantly flung
themselves upon it, and with revolting accompaniments hacked it to
pieces.

'Then that story was true after all,' George said in a low voice. 'We are
safe; for I am sure the chief has no suspicion of our presence in the
underground world.'

'No; and in my opinion——'

What Terence's opinion was, George was not to learn, for just then a
spattering volley rattled in the bush, several bullets hummed past them,
and they bolted for cover. In a moment the clearing was empty, and the
Hau-haus, sheltered behind the great trunks, answered the challenge with
a random fire.

Te Karearea had thrown aside his mats, and now, naked like his
warriors, save for his waist-cloth and huia plumes, was dodging actively
from tree to tree, firing with great coolness whenever he saw a chance.
But, owing to the thick bush, little harm was done on either side, and to
the interested onlookers the affair seemed very like a stale mate.

But Te Karearea had always to be reckoned with. No sooner had the

spies fled, than he dispatched Winata Pakaro with fifty men to make a
rapid flanking march and ascertain whether they had to do with a large
force or a mere screen of scouts. In either case Winata had his orders,
which he carried out to the letter, and in a few moments from the firing of
the first shot, the clearing was filled with a mob of yelling combatants,
and a hand-to-hand fight in the good old style began. The muskets,
useless now, were flung away, or swung by the barrel, while tomahawk
and club clashed and jarred and rattled in the shock of their meeting.

Presently the watchers heard Te Karearea's voice raised in a shout of

savage triumph. 'Mataika! Mataika!' he yelled, and, grasping a young
Arawa chief by the hair with his left hand, dashed out the man's brains
with a single blow of the heavy club in his right. 'Mataika!' he yelled
again. 'Ki au te Mataika!' and, brandishing the blood-stained mere, dashed
into the midst of the foe.

'Is that his battle-cry?' called Terence from behind his tree.

'No. The first to be killed in a fight is called the Mataika,' explained

George. '"I have the Mataika" is the cry of the successful slayer, and duels
often arise after a battle, owing to disputes among the claimants to the
honour.'

The Arawas, taken thus in the rear, and hopelessly outnumbered, had
no chance, and the end of the skirmish came when some twenty of the
brave, rash fellows—all that were left of fifty—broke through the packed
masses of their enemies and fled, unpursued, through the bush.

'The Hawk has all the luck,' grumbled George. 'What a piece of folly
for so small a force to attack five hundred!'

'Never mind,' Terence said cheerfully. 'It shows, at all events, that some
one is on our trail, and that our sweet chief is not to be allowed to have
everything his own way. Here he comes. Lo, what a swelling port!'

Te Karearea stalked up to them, his chest heaving, his eyes still aflame
with the fierce light of battle. His scarred visage looked grimmer than
ever as he grinned balefully at his 'guests.'

'Ha! Even without the mere of TUMATAUENGA, it seems that we can

still win a fight,' he said truculently.

'You outnumbered the Arawas by ten to one,' began George, but added
hastily, as the chief's brows knit in a frown: 'That flanking movement to
take a probable foe in the rear was fine generalship.'
 Te Karearea was never above nicely judged flattery. 'Praise from a
soldier's son! That is good,' he said, nodding his plumed head. 'Had you
been fighting by my side, Hortoni, not one of the dogs had escaped. Why
not become my Pakeha?'

'One might really do worse,' returned George lightly. 'You have all the
luck.' Whereat the chief looked mightily pleased.

'We will talk of this again, Hortoni,' he said. 'I remember that your
parole expires to-night. Will you renew your promise?'

'Yes,' George answered at once.

A gleam of suspicion came into the chief's eyes at this ready

concession. 'For how long, Hortoni? A week? A moon? What?'

'I promise; that is enough,' returned George carelessly. 'When I am

tired of liberty I will tell you.'

Te Karearea's eyes burned into his own, but he met their stare
unflinchingly, and presently the chief said: 'And you, O Mura—whom I
had not forgotten—do you also give your word?'

'Oh yes,' replied Terence, when George had interpreted.

Once again Te Karearea stared at them as if he would read their inmost

thoughts. Then with a curt 'It is good!' he stalked away, and they heard his
voice ringing out as he issued orders with regard to the twice-interrupted
march.

They stood on one side, watching the eager Maoris, fine men for the
most part, and handsome too, despite the intricate patterns which scored
their faces—records, each of them, of some deed of derring-do. For the
Maori, not content with simple tattooing, cut and carved his history upon
brow and breast and cheek and chin, the absence of such scars indicating
either extreme youth, or a lack of courage very rare among the men of
their race.

'He is beckoning to us. Come along,' said Terence. 'You first, please,
by reason of your exalted position.'
 Te Karearea, who had resumed his mat and kilt, cordially greeted them
as they fell in on either side of him, and amid inexpressible uproar the
march to the pah began.

But presently the men settled down, and, as they took the road across
the island to the hill, broke into a roaring chorus of the days when all the
land was their birthright, and again, of the time to come when the Pakeha
should be swept into the sea, and Ao-Tea-Roa,[1] the Land of the Long-
lingering Day, return to the Children of Maui once more.

[1] New Zealand was thus poetically named by the early Maori settlers there
because of the twilight, to which they had been unaccustomed in 'Hawaiki.'

George, toiling up the steep and difficult ascent, and wondering how,
when their parole was withdrawn, they should ever escape from such a
stronghold as that upon the hill-top, was startled out of his reverie by the
sound of a harsh, dry sob. He glanced round, to find Te Karearea, with
bowed head and anguished face, stumbling almost blindly along the
rough track.

'Aue! Aue!' wailed the chief, his low, tense tones scarcely reaching
beyond the ear of him for whom they were intended. 'Aue! Oh, that the
mere of TUMATAUENGA might be mine but for one short hour, that the
god might see it in the hand of the last of the House of Te Turi! Oh, that I
might bear it into the pah, and hold it while I pray to the gods and to my
ancestors. Only for one little hour. Aue! Aue!'

He made no direct appeal, but his restless brown eyes dwelt wistfully
on George, who felt distinctly uncomfortable.

They had reached a point some three hundred feet below the outer
palisades of the pah, and now George saw for the first time, what had
been invisible from the plain, that some convulsion of Nature had cloven
the hill into two unequal parts. The gash ran clear across the face of the
hill, forming a deep gulch with precipitous sides of jagged rock. The
chasm, like the river, was bridged, but more securely, and provided with
hand-rails of twisted flax which also served as draw-ropes.
 Believing, as he did most firmly, that his own fate and the fate of his
House depended upon his possession of the greenstone club, Te
Karearea's emotion was not altogether feigned, and George, despite the
knowledge that his own life would not be worth a day's purchase if he
surrendered the mere, felt again that throb of sympathy for this man who
pleaded for what meant to him his very existence.

Nevertheless, and though he grew more uncomfortable than ever, his

resolution hardened not to yield the club while he had strength to retain it;
so, to avoid the sight of Te Karearea's woebegone face, he moved a pace
or two ahead of the chief.

They had come almost to the centre of the great tree which spanned the
chasm, and the main body had halted at the bridge-head in order not to
incommode the chief and his 'guests' during the crossing, which, if not
actually dangerous, was a matter requiring caution. For, though wide
enough to allow the three to walk abreast, the bridge was yet so narrow,
that the right arm of George and the left arm of Terence brushed the
ropes.

But Te Karearea was desperate. Ignoring the warning that guile, not
force, must be employed to recover the mere, or that only by voluntary
surrender or carelessness on the part of Hortoni could it become his own,
he made a sudden snatch at the club, which hung rather in front of
George's right hip. The natural consequence followed. George moved on
with long, swinging stride just as Te Karearea stooped with eagerly
extended hand, the chief missed the club, lost his balance, and, in full
view of the horrified spectators, rolled over the bridge.

A howl of dismay went up from the Maoris, and George, turning

sharply, saw with amazed eyes the unfortunate chief sliding head-
downwards into the profound abyss.

Without a thought of his own danger, George flung himself down upon
his face with hands outstretched, and succeeded, only just in time, in
seizing the chief's left ankle, to which he clung with the tenacity of
desperation.

For the position was now awful in the extreme. Head downwards over
that frightful abyss the chief hung, held back from instant and dreadful
death only by the strong clutch of his intrepid captive, who, with his own
arms and face over the edge of the trunk, looked down into the horrid rift
into which he was slowly being dragged.

But Terence was to the fore as well, and down he went on his knees
and hung on to his friend's legs with all the strength of his mighty
muscles. Then he shouted to Winata Pakaro, who ran lightly across the
bridge, stooped over the edge, and caught Te Karearea's right ankle, thus
allowing George to take a fresh grip of the left.

And so, in a somewhat undignified manner, the great chief was hauled
slowly back from what a moment earlier had seemed, and a moment later
would have been, certain death.

No loud expressions of delight greeted Te Karearea as he resumed the

perpendicular; for every Maori there had seen his attempt to possess
himself of the greenstone club, and noted, too, the swift and terrible
retribution which, by the magic of the Pakeha, had overtaken him. Truly,
the magician had chosen to arrest the fall of the victim, but not until he
had given striking evidence of his power.

While the Maoris murmured together, Te Karearea addressed George

in a voice a little less firm than usual: 'I thank you, Hortoni. There is a
bond between us; for I owe you my life.'

'Not so, O Chief,' answered George coldly. 'You saved my life aboard
the brig; so now we are quits.'

Te Karearea merely nodded his head and echoed George's remark:

'Very well, Hortoni; we are quits.'

'I wish you had let the rascal slip through your hands,' remarked
Terence, as they ascended the slope. 'It would have been a good riddance
of a particularly bad form of rubbish. No, no,' he went on, reddening as
George looked at him; 'I don't mean that. You couldn't have done it.
Original instincts too strong and all that. I—oh, you know.'

'You need not apologise.' George smiled. 'The thought actually crossed
my mind as I held him up.'

'He is brave, George. He bore that ordeal as few could or would have
done. Perhaps it is a pity that he is not on our side.'
 'No, no,' said George, with a passionate gesture. 'If there be any excuse
for his slyness, his lies, his murders, it is in the fact that he acts as he does
in the sacred name of patriotism. Were he in arms against his own race,
and still displayed his present characteristics, he would be intolerable.'

'Here he comes back,' exclaimed Terence; 'and beaming, by Jove!

What a man!'

The wily Te Karearea had been quick to perceive the effect of his
accident upon the emotional minds of his countrymen, and with
characteristic effrontery set himself to efface the unfavourable
impression. Standing between the friends, he began a stirring address to
the warriors, who had now crossed the bridge and were waiting to enter
the pah, by the outer gate of which were grouped the tohunga and his
small garrison, ready to welcome the conquering chief.

With every trick of gesture and impassioned tone of the born orator, he
spoke to them until their fierce eyes were fastened upon his own, and the
sullen apathy dropped from their stern faces. Then, pausing, he stepped
back a pace, and, pointing to George and Terence, cried: 'But here, my
friends, are two Pakehas whose hearts are even as those of the Maori. You
have seen for yourselves. For if Hortoni and Mura had not been my
friends, they would have left me to perish. Here they stand, and'—his
voice swelled to a triumphant shout—'friends, they are ours!'

George had listened with growing impatience to this splendid liar's

talk, and at the final cunning assertion he took an angry step forward. But
Te Karearea had anticipated this, and ere he could protest, turned about
with a magnificent sweep of his arm and pointed to the open gate of the
pah.

Not another word was needed. He had won. Six buglers blew
prolonged, discordant blasts upon as many great teteres,[2] the garrison
yelled shrilly, and with a thunderous roar of triumph the impatient Maoris
surged forward, breasting the slope, and charged furiously into the
courtyard of the pah.

[2] A huge wooden trumpet, about six feet long.

 CHAPTER XVII

SAFE BIND, SAFE FIND

When George Haughton managed to corner the busy chief and

wrathfully demand of him how he had dared to claim him as a Pakeha-
Maori, Te Karearea met his remonstrances quietly, professing himself
astonished at the other's indignation.

'You said you might do worse,' he protested. 'I took that for consent.
Besides, Hortoni, if you had not been my friend, you would not have
stood between me and death. It is absurd to argue about so simple a
matter.' And he stalked off, leaving George raging at his own
incautiousness in having ventured to bandy ironical chaff with such a
master of tricks.

Terence laughed when George reported the conversation.

'We must remember,' said he, 'that, thanks to Te Karearea, the Hau-
haus are inclined to be friendly; but if we contradict his highness too
energetically, we shall find ourselves surrounded by malignant enemies,
and probably be separated. I am for making the best of it.' And in this
view George at length concurred.

Events proved Terence right; for as time went on they did what they
liked, and no one attempted to interfere with them. Nevertheless, an
uneasy feeling that they were closely shadowed withheld them from any
exploration of the surrounding country, and they wandered about,
watching the girls at work on the kumara[1] fields across the river,
inspecting the bags of the hunters, and keenly interesting themselves in
the active preparations for war.

[1] Potato.
 'There is something in the wind,' George said one day a fortnight after
their arrival. 'I am told that the war-dance was performed last night. Now,
a big war-dance is a thing unknown except on the outbreak of war, or just
before a battle; so perhaps word has come of the approach of our troops,
or there may be friendlies in the neighbourhood.'

'I noticed no particular excitement to-day,' observed Terence.

'Perhaps not; but all the same some big military movement is
imminent. If you could understand their talk, you would have heard them
boasting that none of the dancers fainted or fell, which is always
considered a good omen.'

On the following afternoon, attracted by bursts of laughter, the

comrades turned into one of the long lanes between the whares, and came
upon a dozen lads amusing themselves by casting clubs at a sort of Maori
equivalent to the 'Aunt Sally' of English fairs. The 'uncle,' as it was here,
was grim enough, being the dried head of one of the Arawas slain in the
recent fight. On the crown of this dismal object was set an empty beer-
bottle, and to bring this down without touching the head was the object of
the throwers.

But the more they threw, the more they missed, which struck Terence
as odd, and, at last, Te Karearea, who was leaning nonchalantly against a
door-post, looking on, drew out his mere and stepped forward.

'Let us show these children what men can do,' he said, and shivered the
bottle at the first throw. 'Can you better that, Hortoni?'

'Perhaps I can equal it,' returned George, taking his stand. Te

Karearea's eyes gleamed and flashed a glance of intelligence at a lank
youth who was lounging near the mark, apparently uninterested.

Back swung George's arm; but as his right foot was raised preparatory
to the cast, his greenstone club was plucked from his fingers, and he
turned sharply to find Terence smiling at him and holding the precious
weapon.

Without a word or a look at Te Karearea, George thrust the club back

into his belt and strode away. Terence, however, lingered an instant to grin
triumphantly at the chief, in exchange for which attention he received a
scowl so hateful and malignant that he thought it wise to follow his friend
without delay.

The captives were greatly troubled by their inability to discover the

whereabouts of Paeroa, Kawainga his betrothed, and Pokeke the Hau-hau,
not one of whom had been seen since the day of their entrance into the
pah. George was convinced that all three had been hidden away, if not
killed out of hand, in order to prevent them from coming further under his
influence; and concerning Paeroa and his sweetheart he was sincerely
distressed.

'It is intolerable to think that our pretty Morning Star should be at the
mercy of such an unscrupulous brute as the chief,' Terence exclaimed
angrily, as they were discussing this question in their quarters one stormy
night. 'We must search for her and Paeroa. We have been here nearly three
weeks, and I think we might venture to begin.'

'Let us chance it,' agreed George. 'We will try the under——'

'Salutations, friends!' said Te Karearea, appearing in the doorway. 'I

come to ask if you will renew your parole.'

'We cannot renew what we have not withdrawn,' George answered

irritably. He was wondering how much the chief had heard. 'When we are
tired of liberty we will tell you. There will be no need for you to come
and ask us.'

'The Pakehas are abominably deceitful,' Te Karearea remarked

absently. 'It is very difficult to know when they are telling the truth.'

'How dare you say such a thing to us?' George cried hotly; while
Terence, when he understood, flushed and glared at the chief.

'There is a bad spirit in you to-night, Hortoni,' the Maori said smoothly.
'When you stopped me with angry words, I was about to say that neither
you nor Mura would break your promises.'

'Oh, were you?' returned George, by no means appeased. 'Hear now

my word, O Hawk of the Mountain, for it shall be the last. Until we tell
you that we intend to take back our parole, we shall respect it.'
 'Until you tell me—not Winata Pakaro or another?' queried the chief,
darting glances at them.

'It is you to whom we are responsible,' answered George curtly.

'Then, until I hear with my own ears from your own mouths the words
"We take back our parole," I may rest assured that you will make no
attempt to escape?' went on Te Karearea, with curious persistence and a
sharp anxiety of voice and manner which George noticed but did not
understand.

'You may,' he replied loftily. 'And for the future do not come here with
insults in your mouth.'

'It is well,' Te Karearea said suavely. 'Sleep soundly, my friends, and

dream of peace.' After a grave inclination, he drew his mat around his
shoulders and stalked out.

'What is at the back of all that, I wonder,' said Terence.

'It was like his impudence to talk as he did,' fumed George; 'but he
does nothing without a reason. But I am too tired to solve conundrums.
Let us go to bed.'

Once or twice during the night Terence awoke and sat up, listening to
the extraordinary clamour of wind and rain, in which, it seemed to him, a
multitude of tongues spoke softly, and the faint pad-pad of naked feet
made itself manifest. But the noise of the elements confused him, and it
was not until breakfast-time next morning that he mentioned his fancies
to George, who looked uncommonly grave as he listened.

'Let us go and find out if anything did happen,' he suggested as they

rose from their meal; for he was oppressed by an uncomfortable feeling
that trouble was in store for them. His presentiment presently grew
stronger, for, as they walked towards the marae, or open courtyard of the
pah, the unusual quiet of the long lanes surprised them, for the inhabitants
were early astir as a rule.

The court itself was deserted, save for two old men, who sat upon a
seat opposite to the open gates. George looked down upon the plain,
where a company of women and children could be seen returning from
the bush across the river. In anxious haste he turned to one of the old men.
 'Where is everybody, O my father?' he inquired. 'Where is Te
Karearea?'

The old Maori shook his head and showed his toothless gums. 'Nay; he
is not here, Hortoni. He is gone to fight the Pakeha.'

'Gone to fight the Pakeha!' echoed George. He looked down again. A

band of armed Maoris had issued from the bush and were crossing the
river bridge. 'Is that the Hawk returning?' he asked. 'Wake up, old man!'
He gently shook the ancient. 'Is it the Hawk who flies hither?'

The old fellow blinked drowsily in the warm sun. 'Nay; Te Karearea is
gone to drive the Pakeha into Moana. Who knows when he will return?
Let me slumber, Hortoni.'

George wheeled round upon Terence. 'The crafty rascal!' he cried

wrathfully. 'I see it all now. It was the noise of his departure that you
heard in the night, Terence. Well might he scheme that we should bind
ourselves fast with our own words. Oh, if you had but woke me! But now
we have promised, and——' He shook his fist in the direction of the bush.
'Terence, we have been properly fooled. We are caught in a trap of our
own making.'

'A parole extorted by such a piece of treachery can hardly be

considered binding,' objected Terence.

'Oh, we will keep our word, if only to shame him, if that were possible.
But let the subtle Hawk look out for himself when we do take back our
parole.'

'And may I be there to see,' finished Terence, taking his friend's arm.
'Let us go to meet those people and learn the news.'

CHAPTER XVIII

PAEROA AT LAST
 As the comrades encountered the returning warriors, who had been left
as a garrison, their leader, a young chief named Rolling Thunder, called
out: 'Salutations, Hortoni! The Pakeha Eagle takes an early flight; but he
is too late to catch the Hawk, who has gone to flesh his beak and talons.'

'He will meet with a few more eagles who will make small account of
his beak and talons,' answered George grimly. 'When does he wing his
way back to his eyrie? I mean, if he ever gets the chance.'

'Not until he has scattered the fragments of the last Pakeha to the four
winds,' replied Rolling Thunder proudly, and marched off in high
dudgeon at their shouts of derisive laughter.

Just then Terence caught sight of a solitary figure disappearing into the
bush. He recognised the man as a tutua, or common fellow, named
Sounding Sea, one of the meanest and least considered Maoris in the pah,
whose sly face, destitute of scars, showed him either a coward, or
singularly to have lacked opportunity to gain the right to heraldic
distinctions. Just then, however, there was nothing out of the way in the
fellow's behaviour, so Terence thought no more about him.

'It is still very early, and I vote for exploration,' he said to George.
Then he drummed idly on the rail of the bridge, gazed down into the
rushing stream and sighed. Presently he looked up at his friend and
smiled rather wistfully. 'I was thinking. Bad habit; isn't it, old fellow?
Come; make up your mind what to do.'

'Exploration be it,' agreed George. 'Let us look for the hole into which
you so gallantly dived. Like Quintus Curtius, it may yet prove that you
took that plunge for the good of your country.'

He spoke lightly, knowing well what was passing in Terence's mind.

By tacit consent they seldom referred to home or friends, finding the
subject too painful. Terence had no near relations except his mother's
sister, to whom he was devoted; but his affection for the Haughton circle
was almost as deep as that of George, and the peppery colonel and his
fine little brother-in-law held a very warm place in his heart. Many a
silent prayer went up for their own preservation and for those they loved;
for these two were brave and loyal lads, who had not learned to forget
God, and were not ashamed to show that they maintained their trust in
Him.
 They easily found the hill upon which the Hau-hau rites had been
celebrated, but though they over and over again made it their base of
operations, failure met them at each attempt to discover the entrance to
the underground world.

'We shall never find it,' said George; 'for even in this short time the
undergrowth has covered the mouth of the hole. We must try from the
other end; but if we lose ourselves——'

'We can't—with this,' interposed Terence, holding up a small, but

perfect compass, made by one of England's foremost opticians. 'I stole
this from the stealers, who were examining the contents of a looted
saddle-bag. The compass had fallen to the ground unnoticed, and, as my
feet are adapted to cover much bigger things, I calmly stood over it until I
got a chance to annex it.'

'Your petty larceny is condoned by the court,' laughed George. 'I wish
you could put your foot upon a couple of good revolvers.'

'Don't move,' Terence said quickly. 'Look to your right—three or four

hundred yards away—without appearing to do so. There is a Maori
watching us.'

George looked and laughed again. Apparently there were half a dozen
Maoris, squatting upon the ground at irregular intervals, their long spears
held erect, their mats hanging down so as to conceal their bodies.

'You are looking at a row of grass-trees,' George explained. 'You are

not the first to mistake a grass-tree at a distance for a squatting native.'

'I did not say they were Maoris,' Terence replied coolly. 'There were
six grass-trees when I first noticed them, and now there appear to be
seven. Aha! Look, George. Number seven is crawling off. It is our friend
Sounding Sea, who has been spying on us. I saw him dodging into the
bush this morning, and now that I am sure of his game, I may tell you that
I have suspected him for a week past.'

'What keen eyes you have to pick the fellow out,' said George
admiringly. 'In certain lights, and at a distance, the illusion of the grass-
tree is perfect. It is as well, perhaps, that we failed to find the hole, since
that rascal is on our track.'
 'Well, we know where we stand now,' observed Terence, 'and the gay
Sounding Sea will find that two can play the game of spying. We will
look for Paeroa to-morrow in spite of him.'

Late next night the friends crept out of their whare, which stood near
the back of the stockade, and searched for four hours in the underground
world; but they found no trace of the missing trio.

'We must get back before dawn,' said George; 'for Sounding Sea may
take it into his head to pay us an earlier visit than usual. I don't think that
Paeroa is hidden down here. The existence of the place is known only to
the privileged few, so there would be no occasion to confine him far from
the entrance.'

'Besides, I fancy that both the chief and the wizard would fight shy of
the spot after their uncanny experience.' Terence chuckled at the
recollection. 'Yes; come on. We can't afford to take risks.'

Thrice they unsuccessfully explored the underground reaches during

the next fortnight; twice they tried, and failed, to find the forest opening;
and then, suddenly, the face of the situation began to alter.

It was now three weeks since Te Karearea had set out for the front, and
sick or wounded Maoris were constantly filtering into the pah, one and all
with the same story to tell—the continued success of the chief, and the
impending annihilation of the detested Pakeha. The worst news they
brought was that of the death of old Kapua Mangu, who had been shot
while weaving a spell for the destruction of the Arawas. His head had
been brought back to the pah, and was now in the hands of the gentleman
whose business it was to preserve the grisly relic.

One night George entered their hut in a state of great agitation. His
face was pale and his eyes glittered; but for some time he sat silent, while
Terence watched him anxiously.

'Anything wrong, old fellow?' he inquired at last.

'Wrong! wrong! Ay; it is all wrong together,' burst out George. 'A devil
is loose upon the earth, and his name is Te Karearea. He—he——' His
voice faltered, and he stopped for a moment. Then, ominously calm all at
once, he resumed: 'News has come that Te Karearea and a company of his
Hau-haus stole upon the settlement at Poverty Bay at night and massacred
—there's no other word for it, for the poor people were quite unprepared
—thirty-three people. And, Terence'—he covered his eyes with his hand
—'there were women and little children among them. Your friend Major
Biggs was killed, and——' He could say no more.

For a time the two sat without further speech. They felt sick with
horror; for the picture of those helpless, anguished mothers and their
babes would obtrude itself. But at last George sprang up and shook his
great shoulders, as if throwing off some fearful oppression.

'Terence,' he said quietly, 'till now, in spite of what I knew him to be

capable of, I have had a sneaking sympathy with this ruffian, with his
misfortunes, with his aspirations. I knew that his point of view must be
different from ours. I was inclined to make allowances. But now—now
——'

'I know,' Terence said in a low voice. 'It is—it is those babies.'

George's strong teeth seemed to snap together. 'Yes; and he shall

answer for them to me.' Then he went out into the night.

Next day, as they were sitting in the marae, a wounded Maori came up
and said, grinning: 'Pokeke fights at the side of Te Karearea, and he
constantly mutters "The great axe of Heora." He bade me tell you this,
Hortoni.'

George laughed contemptuously. 'This Heora is, I believe, one of their

mythical heroes,' he explained to Terence. 'When a Maori frequently
repeats the words "The great axe of Heora," he means that he is keeping
his mind fast set upon revenge. Well, this settles the locality of one of our
trio.'

'Yes; and it shows the value of any statement made by Te Karearea,'

put in Terence. 'Now I have a piece of news,' he went on. 'I have
discovered something very queer about Sounding Sea.'

'What is it?' George asked, interested at once.

'About the same time every night he sneaks past our hut—his own is
almost opposite—towards the back of the pah. I followed him last night,
and he climbed the fence and dropped down on the narrow ledge between
the palisades and the edge of the precipice.'

'Go on,' urged George.

'I was close behind him; yet, when I looked over, he had disappeared.
The ledge runs about fifteen feet on each side of the point where he scaled
the fence, which touches the edge of the cliff at the angles. So, as he
could not have gone round, he must have gone over.'

'And what are you going to do?'

'We will both follow him to-night after his visit.'

Under pretence that he had been detailed by Te Karearea to see to their

comfort, Sounding Sea came to their hut at bed-time every night. This
night was no exception, for his sly face peered round the door, and he
inquired, humbly enough, if the Pakeha lords desired his services.

To throw him off his guard, George ordered him to bring a basket of
food, as they proposed to go for an early ramble in the bush on the
morrow. When the Maori returned with this, the friends were snoring on
their mats; so he placed it in a corner and withdrew, satisfied.

Five minutes later Terence stole across to Sounding Sea's whare, and
returned almost immediately. 'There,' he said, with a gleeful chuckle, and
thrust a revolver and a handful of cartridges upon his astonished friend.

'Kapua Mangu's mantle must have fallen on you, you magician,' cried
George, overjoyed. 'Where—how——?'

'It occurred to me that Sounding Sea, not being very courageous,

would have made provision for defending himself in case of a row with
us,' explained Terence; 'so I went to see. The fellow has a regular arsenal
there. I have brought away three revolvers and any number of cartridges.'
He hid one of them under his mat, along with a reserve of ammunition.
Then, having loaded their weapons, the friends stole out on the track of
the spy.

In a few minutes they stood upon the three-foot ledge outside the pah,
where a pale, watery moon gave them light enough to see what they were
about. And this was as well; for movement, at the best, was dangerous,
and a slip might have been fatal.

'I thought as much,' exclaimed Terence, after poking about in the grass.
'This explains our gentleman's nocturnal trips, and I shouldn't wonder if
we were on the track of Paeroa.'

Lying on their faces, peering into the awful depths of the cañon, they
could see a strong flax ladder, securely fastened to a couple of stout pegs,
driven into the ground between them. By means of a gentle tug they
ascertained that the lower end of the ladder was free, and, before George
could anticipate him, Terence swung himself over.

'I'll jerk three times when I reach the bottom,' he said. 'Steady the thing
for me.'

Presently the signal came, and George joined his friend, who was
standing upon a narrow ledge about fifty feet below. 'Here we are,' said
Terence in greeting. 'This ledge runs in both directions. Ah, this is the
way. Look.'

A tangle of creepers, recently disturbed, guided them, and they moved

cautiously along the ledge, which sloped very gradually downwards, until
they stood some twenty feet above the river, in full view of a fine
waterfall. Thereafter was nothing but sheer cliff to the broken water
below. Then while they looked about, puzzled, Terence suddenly dragged
George down behind a shrub, and they saw a wondrous sight.

From out of the waterfall itself, right through the veil of falling water,
came Sounding Sea, shaking himself like a dog after a plunge. He
climbed upon the ledge, took a step or two upon the back track, and then,
with a gesture of annoyance, turned again and walked out of sight
through, or under, the fall.

'He has forgotten something,' said Terence. 'After him!'

Careless of risk, they passed the falling curtain and hurried on the track
of Sounding Sea, who was moving slowly through a natural tunnel, the
mouth of which gaped blackly at his pursuers. Had the Maori not lit a
torch the comrades could have done nothing but await his return.
 Suddenly Terence swung back an arm and barred George's advance,
for the tunnel took a turn, widening into a cave. Peering round the angle,
they saw Sounding Sea, his torch set down, searching for something he
appeared to have dropped.

The tunnel took a turn, widening into a cave (page 194).

 But there was something else. Something which brought George's teeth
together with a click, and caused Terence to clench his fists.

Stretched upon a mat, his wrists and ankles bound, and further secured
by a rope round his middle, which was attached to an iron bar let into the
floor of the cave, lay Paeroa, while a few feet from him was Kawainga,
much in the same case, save that her feet were free.

Even in that light it could be seen that the unhappy pair looked
miserably weak and ill, though scraps of food and a bowl of water
showed that starvation had not been added to their other tortures.

Terence felt the arm he held quivering in his grip. Indeed, George
restrained himself with difficulty; for the sight of the poor sufferers set his
blood aflame, and another black mark was added to the long tally against
Te Karearea.

Just then Sounding Sea spoke. 'Where is my mere, O Paeroa? It was in

my belt when I fed you.' He made a dive and drew a wooden mere from
the folds of the scanty mat upon which Paeroa lay. 'Pig!' he vociferated.
'Would you steal my club? Were it not that Te Karearea ordered me to
keep you alive, I would dash out your traitor's brains. As it is—take this!'

He raised his heavy, sharp-angled club, dwelling upon his aim for the
downstroke, which would have smashed the shoulder-girdle and left the
arm useless for all time, when with a low growl of rage George leaped
across the intervening space and flung himself upon the cowardly ruffian.

CHAPTER XIX

PAEROA'S VENGEANCE

So utterly unexpected was the attack, that Sounding Sea went down
with a yell of terror; but, quickly recognising his adversary, he began to
wriggle and twist, clawing and spitting like an angry cat. But he could do
nothing against such a stalwart as George, and Terence, confident of this,
busied himself in cutting the bonds of the captives and gently chafing
their swollen joints, while he smiled into their wan faces, and spoke
hopefully in a language they did not understand of the good time coming
for them.

But hope is translatable into any tongue, and, as Terence chatted on,
the dull eyes brightened and a responsive grin overspread Paeroa's drawn
face, while Kawainga's lips quivered, and she burst into happy, soothing
tears.

This was too much for Terence. His alluring smile vanished, and he
rose and solemnly punched the head of Sounding Sea. 'I don't often hit a
man when he is down,' he remarked, returning to his patients; 'but you
deserve a taste of your own sauce.'

'Quite right,' agreed George. 'Wait here, Terence, while I get my flask.
When I return, we can settle what to do.'

He was back in a very short time, and the flask, which he had not
opened since he left Sydney, came in usefully now; for the strong spirit,
dashed with water, soon restored Paeroa and Kawainga, who sat up and
began to talk.

'I did what I could, Hortoni,' Paeroa said sadly. 'Had you met me by the
fork that day all would have been well. As it is, I have still one word of
the white-haired chief to you. Te Karearea took the other. Here it is.'

Like all the Hau-haus, he wore his hair long, and now he pulled from
the tangled locks a soiled piece of paper, which he held out to George,
who took it and read aloud:

'We ar~ on your t~ack. Try ~~~~~~scape ~nd meet us. Y~~rs—M.
Cra~sto~n.'

Here and there the pencilled letters were obliterated; but the meaning
was clear enough. The question was—had Te Karearea driven back, or
annihilated the relief force? And this, of course, Paeroa could not tell.

'I wonder what was in the note which Te Karearea took,' said George.

'Paeroa has made a mistake,' commented Terence. 'Colonel Cranstoun

is not white-haired, unless he has changed since I saw him.'
 'Well, there is no use worrying over a mistake,' said George.

'Oh, of course not,' agreed Terence, looking curiously at his friend. He

had his own idea as to the identity of the writer of the missing note, and
thought that George's ignorance was bliss, in so far as it saved him from
much anxiety.

Briefly, Paeroa's story was that, on the march to rejoin the main body,
he had stolen away at the risk of his life, worked round to the rear of the
Arawa contingent, and presented himself at the British camp, where he
found Colonel Cranstoun and others, to whom he told the story of
George's adventures as far as he knew them. He was ignorant of the
capture of Terence, so he could not remove the impression which existed
that the Irishman had been killed while endeavouring to deliver Captain
Westrupp's note. Promising to do all he could for George, Paeroa departed
with two short letters in his care. He failed, as we know, to communicate
with George on the day of the fight with the Arawas; but, just before the
skirmish, while plotting with Kawainga to deliver the letters unobserved,
the two were suddenly overpowered by a strong guard of Hau-haus, and
conveyed to the pah. There they were kept in close confinement, and
eventually transferred to the cave under the waterfall, Sounding Sea being
appointed their gaoler. The mean and vicious Hau-hau had amplified the
chief's instructions, and gratified his own malevolent nature by inflicting
upon the prisoners as many hardships as he dared, short of actually
murdering them, so that their existence since the departure of Te Karearea
had been wretched indeed.

'What is to be done now?' queried George, when Paeroa's story had

come to an end.

Terence drew his revolver and turned to face Sounding Sea. 'Let him
know, George,' he said grimly, 'that, unless he tells the whole truth, there
will be a new arrival in Reinga within a minute.'

'Stop!' shrieked Sounding Sea in English. 'I will tell all. I was to keep
these two here until Te Karearea's return. I have cared for them and fed
them. Mercy, great lords!'

'We shall soon find out whether he has told the truth,' said George
gravely. 'We must leave him here, of course—and you two must also be
content to wait here a little longer.'
 Paeroa stood up shakily, endeavouring to throw out his chest. 'Hope is
a good medicine,' he said bravely. 'By the time Hortoni needs my arm it
will be strong enough to strike a blow for him.'

As he spoke, Kawainga uttered a weak, wailing cry. George and

Terence wheeled, but Paeroa, his hollow eyes gleaming, staggered past
them, and hurled his wasted body full atop of Sounding Sea.

Unperceived by the men, the villain had wormed his way close to
Kawainga, intending to finish her with one stroke of his club; but the
girl's scream spoiled the murderous ruffian's scheme.

Sounding Sea, never a strong man, had grown weak and flabby in
consequence of his idle, dissolute life; but, nevertheless, Paeroa had his
work cut out for him, and the Englishmen, though anxious to let him have
the credit of saving his sweetheart's life, were prepared to interfere should
the contest go against him. They thought, of course, that Paeroa meant
simply to secure the fellow, and hold him while they adjusted the slipped
ropes.

But Paeroa had no such intention. Wrought up to a pitch of fury at the

recollection of his wrongs at this coward's hands, and mad with rage at
the attempt upon the life of his betrothed, his strength was unnatural. For
one instant he came uppermost in the struggle; but it was enough. Glaring
wildly about him, he saw and scooped the wooden club from the ground,
and, without waiting to fasten his grip upon the handle, brought the
triangular edge smashing down upon the upturned face of Sounding Sea.
The force of the blow spent itself upon the temple, and with a deep groan
the Hau-hau fell back, killed outright by that terrible stroke.

'Ha!' Paeroa gasped, floundering to his feet and shaking the

bloodstained club. 'Ha! I have slain a taipo. The strength of ATUA was in
me.' Then he lurched forward like a drunken man, and crashed down at
Kawainga's feet.

Horrified, George and Terence gazed at the swift, awful scene. It is no

light matter to see a man slain before your eyes. Moved by a common
impulse, they reverently lifted the dead man and carried him to one side,
while Kawainga fussed and crooned over Paeroa.
 'If any one is aware of his visits here, and knows that he was employed
to watch us——' began George; but Terence struck in:

'We are armed now, and with revolvers, not to speak of your
greenstone club. By the way, why didn't you bring it with you?'

'I did,' answered George, clapping his hand to his side. But the loop in
his belt was empty. The mere was gone.

Startled, George looked about the cave; but nowhere could he find the
club.

'I fear it has dropped into the river as I came down the ladder,' he said.
'Wait here, if you don't mind, Terence, and I will go and see if I have left
it in our hut. No; let me go, for if I meet any one, my knowledge of the
language will get me past him, whereas you might be stopped.'

'Bring back the basket of food with you,' Terence called after him as he
hurried away.

As he rapidly ascended the ladder, George became conscious of an

extraordinary commotion in the pah. Shouts and cries, wailing of teteres,
even gun-shots, disturbed the quiet night, and, wondering what had
happened, he scaled the palisades and sped to his whare.

A glance all round told him that the club was not there, so, snatching
up the basket of food, he was about to set off again, when from the
confusion of sounds in the direction of the marae, one detached itself,
clear and high:

'Rongo pai! Rongo pai!' (Good tidings! Good tidings!) 'Salutations, O

Hawk of the Mountain! O Slayer of the Pakeha, hail!'

Without an instant's pause George turned and ran, scaling the stockade,
and dashing down the flax-ladder at perilous speed.

'Come!' he shouted, when he had gained the entrance to the cave. 'Out
of this for your lives. Te Karearea has returned!'
 CHAPTER XX

A BID FOR LIBERTY

'Up with you!' said George, holding the swaying ladder. 'Wait on top
till we join you. What a good thing I had my flask.'

It was. The strong spirit nerved the invalids to the effort they were
obliged to make, and in a few minutes the four of them were standing on
the ledge outside the pah, and by means of the ladder easily scaled the
palisades.

The clamour still continued, and George and Terence swiftly piloted
their exhausted friends to the fence behind their hut. Here the ladder came
into play again, and they made for the underground world, George
explaining its peculiarities to Paeroa as they sped along.

'You will be safe enough if you do not wander far from the entrance,'
he assured the Maori. 'We will manage to visit you before long.'

They left the basket of food and the flask with the refugees, and, still
hurrying, for every minute was precious now, reached the shelter of their
whare without encountering any of the Hau-haus.

'Have you found your club?' Terence asked, carefully bestowing

cartridges in his various pockets.

'No,' George answered gloomily. 'I must have dropped it last night
between the fence and the underground world. The strange part of it is
that I should not have missed it till just now.'

'The thing is always generating mysteries,' grumbled Terence. 'I hope

we shall find it, though; for it may make all the difference between life
and death to us.'

'You are right,' said George, who seemed much upset. 'Of course I do
not agree with you that there is anything supernatural about the club; but
still—but still——'

Terence's eyes grew round. 'You don't agree with me! Why, you old
humbug, when did I say that the thing had any supernatural power?'
 'You talked of the English lack of imagination,' George replied stiffly.

Terence laughed. 'The most wonderful thing about that blessed club is
that it has twice brought you and me to the brink of a dispute. I really
believe—— Hullo! Here he is.'

Unheard and unannounced, as usual, Te Karearea had entered. A grim

smile, quickly suppressed, parted his thin lips for an instant, and he bent a
frowning gaze upon George, who, angered out of himself at the loss of his
mere and the memories which the sight of the chief recalled, had sprung
to his feet and was glaring defiantly at the intruder.

'Salutations, friends!' said Te Karearea coldly. 'You did not meet me at

the gate, so I have come to——' He interrupted himself, his furtive eyes
gleaming. 'Where is the mere of TUMATATJENGA, Hortoni? It hangs
not at your side.'

George made no answer; for it was important to ascertain whether the

chief had come straight from the marae, or had already visited the hut and
discovered their absence. Familiar with his friend's lightest change of
expression, Terence knew that the storm was ready to break, and dropped
his hand lightly upon the revolver in his coat pocket, through which he
covered the chief. If treachery were intended, it was as well to be
prepared.

'Speak, Hortoni!' Te Karearea's tone was imperative to the point of

insolence. His scarred face looked terrible under his malignant scowl.

There was a steely glint in George's eyes, and his nostrils quivered; but
his voice was fairly calm as he answered: 'A man may do as he likes with
his own. If I have smashed the mere among the rocks, or thrown it into
the river, what is it to you? You chatter like a parrot, and with as little
sense. Leave us. We wish to sleep.'

But Te Karearea had sense enough, and whatever black design he had
in his mind when he entered the hut, he put it away for the time, until he
should discover the truth about the mere. So, to the surprise of his hearers,
instead of flying into a rage, he grinned genially at them.

'You are right, Hortoni,' he said. 'It is only children who talk when they
are tired, and quarrel till they fall asleep. I, too, am weary and would rest.
Perhaps you will be in a better mind to-morrow, and will show me the
mere of TUMATAUENGA. I will go, since you have nothing to say to
me. Unless, indeed, you wish to renew your parole,' he finished with a
sneer.

A sudden, inexplicable impulse swayed George.

'Stay, O Hawk of the Mountain,' he said, and all appearance of anger

left him. 'For a moon past you have kept us here by means of a trick. You
caught us in a trap of our own making. Now shall there be no more tricks,
and, lest you go away again in the night, leaving us fast here, I tell you to
your face—you yourself and none other—we take back our word.'

For once in his life Te Karearea had received a setback. His usual
coolness deserted him, and his ready tongue tripped as he asked if he had
heard aright.

'Does this mean that you will try to escape, Hortoni?' he inquired,
when both George and Terence had repeated their decision. He moved
backwards towards the door as if he feared an immediate attack.

'Why not?' George answered coolly. 'We have told you that we do not
wish to stay here, yet you will not let us go. Now we will go whether you
will allow us or not.'

But Te Karearea had recovered his equanimity. 'When?' he inquired,

with an air of great simplicity.

George laughed. 'It is enough for you to know that we will go.'

'When the gates of Reinga are shut, why seek to open them, Hortoni?
Take time to think,' suggested the chief.

'It is time to act,' retorted George, and Terence, informed of his friend's
sudden resolution, nodded assent.

Te Karearea was puzzled. Sly and designing himself, he could

appreciate straightforwardness in others; yet he could not believe that his
captives would have taken such a stand unless there was something
underlying their conduct of which he was ignorant. Meantime, confident
of his ability to prevent their escape, he temporised.
 'Nevertheless, I give you time for thought, my friends,' he said. Then,
being a superb actor, he stopped on the threshold. 'If you will, I can set
my young men to look for your mere in the morning, Hortoni,' he
suggested graciously.

'Have I said that it was lost?' George countered quickly. 'But, if it were,
did your young men find it when it dragged itself from your hand and
flew into the sea? Have you yet to learn, O Te Karearea, that my God has
given me the mere to stand between me and death?'

Te Karearea was silenced. Muttering a charm, he slid through the door,

which presently was blocked outside. Terence put his ear to the wall and
could hear the shuffling of naked feet, as if a number of men were
dispersing. He turned to his friend.

'If the mere had been in your belt, George, I believe that the chief
would have taken chances and attacked you to gain possession of it. He
had a dozen men outside. But its absence puzzled him. Am I far wrong in
saying that, either by its presence or its absence, the greenstone club is for
ever coming between you and death?'

'Even as I said to Te Karearea,' agreed George. 'Yes; old Te Kaihuia's

gift was nothing short of a providence. What are we to do now? I had no
idea of taking back our parole so suddenly; but something seemed to
force me to do it. You don't object?'

'I should say not. The sooner we are out of here the better. I didn't like
the look in the Hawk's eyes.'

'I hope we shall be out of it before dawn,' said George. 'When the chief
once realises that the mere is gone, things will happen quickly. You may
be sure it was not simply for the pleasure of greeting us that he came here
to-night. He was in a black mood, and I suspect, if the truth were known,
he has been well hammered by our people.'

'More power to them!' cried Terence. 'You are right, George; it is time
to quit. I am not sure whether the chief takes us seriously; but he has left a
guard at the door.'

'Only one?' asked George, and Terence nodded. 'I have a plan in the
rough,' he went on, looking at his watch. 'It is just eleven. The sentry will