The Hau Haus having retired, I returned to my horse, removed the saddle and gave him a good rub-down with a handful of fern; then we lunched together. His oats were none the worse for their ducking, while my biscuits, if pulpy, were palatable, and we enjoyed them. The sun quickly dried me and we made for home. There was no chance of reaching the Rat's Tooth from the side I was on; besides, I considered it my duty to inform my colonel of the presence of the Maoris. Another thing, what were they doing there? I suspected they had large plantations of potatoes in that bush, and that when they blundered up against me they were on their way to dig them up and had brought their horses to carry them away on. If my conjectures were right, I now knew where to find them. After a hard, scrambling journey over fern ridges we reached the fort, and I reported to the colonel, who babbled a bit at my failure to complete my duty, but was quite pacified when I told him my conjectures about the potatoes. He was not an Irishman, true, but he dearly loved a spud, and if my ideas about them turned out correct, the capture of these potatoes would be of enormous value to us, as the Government were at their wits' end how to keep us and our horses supplied with rations, while the loss of them, to the enemy, would be very severe. That night a strong force, on foot, under my guidance, crossed the river and made for the big gully where I had first seen the spoor. We made a smart night's march, hoping to surprise the enemy and catch them on the hop. In that we failed, their outposts being well on the alert; but in the ensuing skirmish we killed a few of them, captured all their horses and an immense quantity of potatoes, large numbers of these having been already dug up and packed ready for transport, so that my friends the Hau Haus had worked hard for nothing, except our benefit, and I felt very pleased. Was I spiteful? I wonder. But somehow, now I have spun the yarn out, something seems to have gone wrong with it; for when I come to look at the heading it distinctly states that the tale is to be a yarn about the Scout that Failed. And now I come to think it over, I was really not scouting at all, but only trying to open communications with another column, though to do that is certainly the work of a scout, and I moreover was a scout, but yet I was not scouting. Then as to Failure. Sure if I did fail to find the Rat's Tooth, faith! I found the spuds.