Truly no great harm had been done in the scuffle, save for a broken head or two; for the mate and his men, unarmed as they were--even their jack-knives had been taken from them--had relied upon the shock of surprise to drive the Maori guards below and batten them under hatches, among the mass of sleepers. Even chance could hardly have favoured so stupid a plan, and, had it not been for Te Karearea's foreknowledge of the time of the attack, the white men must have fared ill in the struggle. As it was, the Maoris had obeyed orders, and contented themselves with overpowering their prisoners, while for greater moral effect they discharged their guns in the air--to the infinite danger of George and Te Karearea, past whom the leaden missiles sang spitefully during their conversation in the waist. Feeling that he could do no less, George now sought a fitting compliment upon the generous clemency of the chief; but, as the latter faced him, there was something so sinister in the whole aspect of the man, so basilisk-like was the stare of the stony and, for once, unwinking eyes, that the young Englishman thrilled with the conviction that beneath this seeming forbearance lurked an unsatisfied hate, which would presently demand a sterner, because belated, vengeance. He now felt sure that Te Karearea had only held his hand from a general massacre from interested motives, and knew that he would not be able to breathe freely until the Maoris had been set on shore and gone their way into the interior. Determined to warn Bigham, George sought out the mate next morning, and to his annoyance found him already engaged in entertaining the chief with the few words of Maori he had at command. These he eked out by the free use of English, which he seemed to think was certain to be understood, provided that each word was delivered in a stentorian bellow. Te Karearea greeted George very civilly, and smilingly claimed his services as interpreter. Presently he inquired, carelessly enough, what the mate intended to do after setting him and his Maoris ashore. George put this question with the greatest reluctance to the thick-skulled Bigham, who replied with genial truculence that not only would he raise the countryside in pursuit, but would take a hand in it himself, just for the pleasure of having a smack at the 'brown beast,' as he styled the dignified chief. George toned down this senseless bombast as far as he could, but the ill-suppressed sneer upon Te Karearea's thin lips convinced him that the latter perfectly understood all that the mate had so absurdly threatened. However, the chief laughed heartily, and, when George at last got Bigham away from him, the mate would listen to no suggestion of a disguised ill-will. But he promised to abstain from further plotting, and from this George extracted such comfort as he could.