The five men remained on the ridge till after dark, and then descended to the flat where they had tied up their horses. They had, however, been guilty of an act of folly, insomuch that they had not left one of their number in charge of their mounts, for on reaching the place where they had left them tied up they found one of them had broken his tether rope and had levanted. As it was necessary to find the brute, Hill and Tew started away on foot to do so, each man taking his own line of search. The other men, instead of remaining quiet, waited a few minutes, then mounted their horses and rode over the flat to assist in the hunt. While doing so, in the pitch darkness, they stumbled over Tew and foolishly challenged him in Maori. He promptly answered with a carbine shot that killed Lamplough's horse. Burton, fancying Tew to be a Hau Hau, returned the fire, his horse at once bucking him off and galloping away. The third man, Trooper Mitchell, hearing the firing and the galloping of the horses, thought they were attacked by the enemy, so, shouting to Hill to run, he rode as hard as he could in the direction he fancied his comrade had taken, in order to assist him. He had not gone far when his horse turned turtle over a flax bush, fell with him, getting away and galloping off. All of the five men were now dismounted, each man thinking he was surrounded by Hau Haus, so they all bolted for an adjacent flax swamp and hid in the water all the remainder of the night--a just punishment for their carelessness and folly. Daylight revealed the fiasco, and as they were dismounted they took cover and waited for the relief party that did not come. Towards midday 100 Maoris turned up under the command of a grand old fighting chief, Ihaka Whanga, but less than 30 of them were to be relied on, the rest semi Hau Haus, as much to be feared as trusted. At once the ridge was lined and Hill saw that the Huke Pah had fallen, but that the Hiruharama Pah still held out though closely invested. The garrison, seeing friends on the ridge, shouted to them for assistance, as there were not enough men to hold the place should it be rushed. Among Ihaka Whanga's party were twenty-five Mohaka men, and these were the boys ready and willing to grasp at any plan, no matter how desperate, to relieve their relations and save the honour of their pah. George Hill was the man for the emergency. He explained the only plan was to cut their way through the besiegers. He was game to lead, were the twenty-five game to follow? Of course they were. So, without any thought of prudence, discretion, or even modesty, Hill whipped off his boots, tunic, and riding breeches, so as to be able to run the better, and the gallant twenty-six, shouting their war-cry, charged the Hau Hau rifle pits.