“She is our Queen as well as your Queen--Queen of Maories and Queen of Pakéha. “Should wars arise, we will take up our rifles, and march whithersoever she shall direct. “You have heard of the King movement. I was a Kingite; but that did not prevent me fighting for the Queen--I and my chiefs. “My cousin, Wirému, went to England, and saw our Queen. He returned.... “When you landed in this island, he was already dead.... “He died fighting for our Queen. “As he died, _we_ will die, if need be--I and all my chiefs. This do you tell our Queen. “I have said.” This passage, spoken as Hunia spoke it, was one of noble eloquence and singular rhetoric art. The few first words about Wirému were spoken in a half indifferent way; but there was a long pause before and after the statement that he was dead, and a sinking of the voice when he related how Wirému had died, followed by a burst of sudden fire in the “As he died, _we_ will die--I and all my chiefs.” After a minute or two, Hunia resumed: “This is another word. “We are all of us glad to see you. “When we wrote to Pétatoné, we asked him that he would bring with him Pakéhas from England and from Australia--Pakéhas from all parts of the Queen‘s broad lands. “Pakéhas who should return to tell the Queen that the Ngatiapa are her liegemen. “We are much rejoiced that you are here. May your heart rest here among us; but if you go once more to your English home, tell the people that we are Pétatoné‘s faithful subjects and the Queen‘s. “I have said.” After pledging Hunia in a cup of wine, we returned to our temporary home. CHAPTER V. THE MAORIES. Parting with my companions (who were going northward) in order that I might return to Wellington, and thence take ship to Taranaki, I started at daybreak on a lovely morning to walk by the sea-shore to Otaki. As I left the bank of the Manawatu River for the sands, Mount Egmont near Taranaki, and Mounts Ruapéhu and Tongariro, in the center of the island, hung their great snow domes in the soft blue of the sky behind me, and seemed to have parted from their bases. I soon passed through the flax-swamp where we for days had shot the pukéko, and coming out upon the wet sands, which here are glittering and full of the Taranaki steel, I took off boots and socks, and trudged the whole distance barefoot, regardless of the morrow. It was hard to walk without crunching with the heel shells which would be thought rare at home, and here and there charming little tern and other tiny sea-fowl flew at me, and all but pecked my eyes out for coming near their nests.