But he had his difficulties. You see he had a sweetheart named Kiri, a fine Maori maiden of twenty; and Wiremu wanted her. Henare and Kiri had been sweethearts from early school-days, and they rather laughed at Wiremu's aspirations. But if Henare went to the war, it might be different. During their moonlight rambles along the banks of the dark and silent Waikato river, Henare and Kiri talked the matter over. He said he would enlist if they could be secretly married first. He said he would feel more settled, and more disposed to fight, as his forefathers fought of old, inspired by the love and admiration of his wahine. [Illustration] Kiri was undecided. The war might be long; the distance to France was great; the dangers and risks were many. Henare naively chaffed her by saying that he might pick up an American heiress away over in Paris if she did not marry him before he enlisted. That settled it. Before they left the shade of a beautiful pohutukawa one charming summer's evening they fixed the day and made their plans--talking to one another in soft and musical Maori. "You will be true to your absent warrior as he fights beside his Pakeha brothers, adding fresh glories to the honour of the noble Maori race?" "Yes, my brave Tikitanu. Your Kiri will be with you in heart and spirit day and night until your return to the fair land which holds in its bosom the bodies of our noble heroes of days gone by." A few gentle and poetic words like these made them both feel rather sentimental and emotional, so they solemnly rubbed noses and went back to the kianga. These two dusky lovers decided on a secret marriage at Ngaruawahia in a fortnight's time. Kiri was to go by road to the place, and Henare by train from Mercer. The appointed day dawned bright and fine, and Kiri arrived at Ngaruawahia in proper style half-an-hour late. But there was no sign of Henare. [Illustration] As a matter of fact he did not turn up at all, for he got a bit excited at Mercer, and as there were two trains standing end to end at the station he entered the wrong carriage and got out at Pukekohe, about thirty or forty miles in the wrong direction. They met again in about two days' time, and after a good deal of both tender and violent Maori talk, sprinkled with pidgin-English, the matter was patched up. However, they dropped the elopement idea, rubbed noses duly and canonically, and Henare went off and enlisted as a soldier of the King. But he was anxious about his old enemy Wiremu. _II._ OFF TO THE WAR. The relatives of Henare and Kiri were very proud of Henare in his new uniform, and they told him that he must prove himself worthy of the hand of Kiri, the Maori princess, and grand-daughter of a great warrior chief. Henare looked at himself in the glass and felt that he was worthy of her, or any other princess, already. He did not want to seem too cheap, because there was Wiremu to be reckoned with.