THE DOOM OF THE HOUSE OF TE TURI Terence opened his mouth to shout a warning to the sleepers to be up and away, but, his bush training coming to his aid, he shut it with a snap. 'I don't think that they have seen me,' he thought; 'but it is too late to run now, at all events.' He wondered why the advancing Maoris should exercise such caution when, apparently, not a foe was near. 'It must be their way,' he concluded; 'and as one never knows when----' The unspoken words jumbled in his brain and his eyes grew round. Two of the Maoris, crawling from point to point, had suddenly and instantaneously disappeared, heads down and heels up. 'They have found it!' Terence muttered grimly. 'What a nuisance.' He laid his hand on George's shoulders, who at once opened his eyes, but lay perfectly still, mutely questioning. 'Maoris!' whispered Terence. 'The fern is full of them, and two of them have tumbled into our underground world.' 'Bother take them!' murmured George. 'Let me have a look.' He peered over the tall fern at a group of Maoris who were standing up beside the spot at which their comrades had so mysteriously vanished, and with grave gestures and puzzled frowns were discussing the new situation. Their faces cleared and they grinned at one another as muffled voices from below assured them that neither _taipo_ nor _taniwha_ had swallowed their friends. Then they bent down over the tangled mass of creepers and held a colloquy with the imprisoned ones. 'They evidently know nothing about the place,' whispered George. 'How unfortunate that they should succeed where we have so often failed. I think that we had better wake the others and creep away into the bush while they are still absorbed with their find; for---- Oh, good heavens! Look at Paeroa! He is going to his death.' For the Maori, his alert senses stirred by their low-voiced talk, had awakened, risen to his knees, and peered over the fern at the newcomers. Even as George spoke he bounded to his feet, threw his hands above his head and rushed towards the group of Maoris, shouting: '_Arawa! Arawa! E tika ana!_--It's all right!--_Ka kitea te wahi i kimihia mai ai e ratou!_--They have found the place we were looking for!--_Kapai Arawa! Kapai Arawa!_ Hurrah for the Arawas!' His long hair, dressed Hau-hau fashion, streamed behind him and, before any one could intervene, he dashed into the midst of the Arawas. With a gasp of horror George ran for all he was worth. If at this last moment Paeroa, the faithful Paeroa, should be---- The dreadful thought was lost in the rush. Already Paeroa was overpowered, his weak state allowing him no possible chance against his stalwart foes. Utterly unmindful of the British principle of sympathy for the under dog, two Arawas held him by the arms, another grasped his long hair, pulling his head backwards, while a fourth, with raised club, was about to dash out his brains.