“At a quarter past six o’clock, I ordered the wounded to be taken down the hill to the rear by a path that led across the valley to the dense bush on the other side. I felt sure that a native path in that direction would lead to the Mauku or Pa Kekoe, both military posts. I knew that all depended on our coolness and self-possession. If we fell into confusion, or showed any signs of fear, we were lost; so I told the front rank of skirmishers to fire a volley and retire down the hill, giving at the same time a ringing cheer as if about to charge. As soon as they were established below, I ordered the rear rank to do the same thing. Nothing could be better than the conduct of the men at this trying moment; the movement was executed with as much steadiness as if they had been on parade. On reaching the foot of the hill we found, to our infinite delight, a beautiful stream of clear water. We saw by the footprints on the bank that the Maoris had been there; we knew it to be them because they turn their feet inward when walking, and spread their toes out like a duck in crossing swampy ground. They soon gave us clearer evidence of their presence by rushing out of the bush and opening a heavy fire on our men, who as readily returned it. The cowardly villains had not courage to descend from the crest of the hill, but kept up their fire there till our party entered the bush. “About eight o’clock we began to make our way through the bush, but soon discovered that we had lost the path. On this I told my men that we must remain where we were till next morning. I then formed them into a square, and ordered every man to _speak_ his name, so as to ascertain whether any were missing. Two men failed to answer; both were wounded—Private Whittle slightly, across the scalp, and Private Bryne severely through the right hand. On inquiry, I found that, after drinking at the stream, they had pushed on by themselves instead of waiting for the main body, and diverged from the path without being missed; but we shall have more to say of their adventures presently. I then gave my orders for the night: every man had to put on his great-coat (all had brought them with them folded across their right shoulders); to sit with his rifle ready in his hand; no pipes to be lit; not a word to be spoken. I knew that this was the only way to elude the enemy and to reach the redoubt in safety. Under the tender mercies of Divine Providence, my efforts proved successful. About four o’clock next morning I placed myself at the head of my men, and we resumed our march through the bush. We pushed our way with difficulty through the dense masses of supplejack and creepers; we crossed over hills thickly covered with wood; we descended ravines that were almost perpendicular. No word of complaint was heard—all struggled on for their lives. At length, at eight o’clock A.M., our gallant little band emerged from the bush and found themselves in the open country about