Wahika, too, with the hardihood of the savage, had, sooner even than his fellow-sufferers, shown that he was ready to fight for the last few sparks of life faintly burning in his breast; though had the rough, surgical aid of the old clergyman been much longer delayed, those sparks must have died out. "Little flower of Moa's Nest?" he said at last, in an inquiring whisper, as his eager eyes gazed from face to face. "Safe, I hope, friend savage," said Mr Meadows, as he laid a cool, wet hand upon the New Zealander's fevered brow, when a quiet, satisfied smile flitted over the tattooed face; and he closed his eyes, to wait patiently, as became a warrior, for the fate that was to be his. "Thank heaven, friend Lawler!" said Mr Meadows, at the end of an hour; "matters are even looking hopeful. I was ready to despair myself at one time; but providentially, I was able to conquer the weakness. Prompt action, John Lawler--prompt action has gained us the day. And now, good men and true, prepare something in the shape of a litter, and let us bear these poor sufferers gently down from this dreadful place before the night falls." "Mind! Take care! Here, lean on me, sir," cried Lawler eagerly; for Mr Meadows had turned deadly pale, and now reeled, and would have fallen but for the friendly arm. "Thanks. Lawler, thanks," said Mr Meadows. "I'm afraid that I am very weak. I feel unstrung by what we have gone through; and it only wanted the sight of that poor fellow Bray, carried down--but a few hours ago a strong, healthy man--now so much clay--it only wanted that to completely overcome me." In a few minutes, though, Mr Meadows's brave heart sustained him again; and in spite of all advice to the contrary, he insisted upon superintending the removal of the sufferers, himself adjusting their heads, that the rough journey might not add fresh pangs. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ STORY THREE, CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. THE OLD STORY. Busy hands and strong soon provided a shelter from the ruins of the Moa's Nest--the fragments of the schooner playing no inconsiderable part in the rough erection that was prepared for the sufferers; Mr Meadows declaring that it would be madness to yield to the wish of John Lawler, and convey them to his home. And here, forgetting his own sufferings, the old clergyman fought a long and arduous fight with the fever that had seized his patients, but to be triumphant in the end--"Even though I am no doctor," he said with a smile. The hardy savage was the first to recover, and then to follow Mr Meadows about like a dog, never seeming weary of watching to do his bidding, in return for the life he had saved. But months of weary weakness, and mourning for the father who was slain, succeeded before Katie Lee was again the bright-eyed maiden of old, though she struggled hard to be the stay and solace of her widowed mother.