Towards evening George paid a visit to the man whom he had so mysteriously felled the night before, and who was reported to be doing well. He still carried the greenstone club in his belt, and when he entered the deck-house--which had been converted into a sick-bay--found Paeroa with a bandaged head and looking ill and weary, but with a fire in his eye which argued deep resentment. But to the Englishman's amazement, no sooner had he crossed the threshold, than Paeroa clasped his hand in both his own, sank upon one knee, and poured out a torrent of musically sounding words. 'Hortoni, beloved of the gods, master of the _mere_ of TUMATAUENGA,' he said, 'Te Kaihuia has spoken with me and has given me a word. O great one, who callest up the wind at will, I thank thee for my life; for surely hadst thou struck to slay, I had been slain.' 'Stop! What are you saying?' interjected George, but Paeroa's speech flowed on. 'Behold now, Hortoni, because thou heldest back the strong arm of TUMATAUENGA, I will follow thee. Whithersoever thou goest, be it over the mountain or along the plain, through the deep forest or in the green meadows, over the land or across the sea, whether there be peace, or whether there be war, I am thy man, and I will follow thee. Hear now the word which Paeroa has spoken.' George was wonderstruck, and, though far from understanding the motives which moved the Maori to this extraordinary act of self-abasement, was touched by the poor fellow's sincerity and by his devotion to one who, however unwittingly, had done him serious injury. He knew that it would be utterly useless to try to disabuse the man of the belief that he had held back some potent force from destroying him, so, smiling in his peculiarly engaging way upon the young Maori, he replied: 'O Paeroa, I thank you. When you get ashore, you must leave the rascals by whom you are surrounded, rejoin your tribe, and try to keep out of trouble for the future.' This speech sounded like bathos after the high-sounding periods in which the Maori had addressed him, but Paeroa's sole reply was: 'I have spoken, Hortoni'; whereupon George, a good deal embarrassed, wished him a speedy recovery and rather hurriedly took his leave. Young Haughton was by no means too credulous, and with regard to the incident of the previous night had come to the matter-of-fact conclusion that he must have unlocked his chest and withdrawn the greenstone club without, in his excitement, noticing what he was about. Yet he very clearly recognised the powerful influence which the tradition of its origin would exert upon the superstitious Maoris, and he determined to wear it continually during the short remainder of his association with them. As he was pacing the deck after his interview with Paeroa, Te Karearea approached him, and with a grave salute requested permission to speak with him upon a matter of importance.