'Safe!' muttered George, hallooing, like many another, before he was out of the wood; for, ere he could move, two more Maoris, the whippers-in, perhaps, came racing up. The first sprang clear over Terence, who still lay flat, but the second was neatly 'rabbited' over George's broad, arched back and sent flying upon his face a dozen feet ahead. In an instant the Maori was up and back with a panther-like bound at the spot at which the accident had occurred. He knew that his fall had been caused by a man, and his fears, actively working, assured him that the man must be an enemy. With a loud, snorting 'Ha!' the Maori brought down his heavy wooden club with deadly accuracy of aim, and Terence, who had scrambled up, involuntarily closed his eyes, and would fain have closed his ears, too. But instead of the dull scrunch which his quivering nerves were expecting, he heard a sharp, rattling smack, an exclamation of wild surprise, and, as he looked again, saw the wooden _mere_ sailing through the air, to be caught, as it descended, by the outstretched hand of the active Maori. For a moment Terence was stupefied, and then enlightenment came. The greenstone club, which George had held in his upraised hands, had once more come between him and death, intercepting the murderous blow, and disarming his assailant. The Maori still held George at a disadvantage, but made no effort to follow up his attack. Bending down until his lips were close to the Englishman's ear, he muttered in agitated tones, 'Hortoni! Master! Forgive! I knew thee not, and have brought danger upon thee. Fly swiftly. I will hold them back.' The case was not one for argument, and as George and Terence raced down the hill, Paeroa--for it was indeed he--sprang out of the bushes with a yell and bounded after his comrade. The latter, of course, had heard the commotion, and was coming back to inquire into its cause; but Paeroa met him with the frightful announcement, 'It was a lizard! A _taipo_! I have slain him.' Then screeching '_Taipo! Taipo!_' at the top of his voice, he sped towards Te Karearea, closely followed by his friend, who had no desire to investigate further. For the mere mention of a lizard is horrible to a Maori, so ingrained is the superstition that evil spirits of most malignant type invariably assume this shape. But Paeroa had reckoned without his over-lord. Te Karearea was by no means free from superstition, but he was a man of keen intelligence, and he instantly perceived that Paeroa's story did not square with the noise of fast-retreating footsteps. So he rapidly issued orders which sent a score of the newly-arrived Maoris hastening upon the track of the fugitives, while Paeroa, who attempted to lead them with a view of helping the Pakehas, was sternly ordered to remain where he was.