The Maori remained a savage in Zelania because there was nothing to tame him, but in his nature there was the diamond, and, by a little grinding, its brilliancy always burst forth. His native environment had given him everything of a superior mould but the final touch. I quote:-- "Already from the grim huts of these late savages have come forth the orator, the lawyer, the statesman, and the successful business man. 'From the cannibal feast to the Cabinet,' is almost true of the Maori. "The fate of the Maoris? "Well, my children, I don't know, but the grafting of civilisation on such a stock may work wonders, and to study these most picturesque of all the sons of Nature, is worth a journey around this little world. "It is most interesting," continued Oseba, "to study the aboriginals of any country, and it is pathetic to observe their gradual retirement from the earth's fair face; but the Maori--the handsome, haughty, aristocratic and eloquent Maori--is as different from all other uncivilised races as his enchanting island home is different from all other countries on the surface of Oliffa. "If bare-handed Nature in Zelania, with no animals for the chase, none for herds or for servants of industry, and practically no grain or fruit, could spank the savage, common to other lands into this shape, what may it not do for civilised man, who brings with him all the aids of all the ages?" Oseba explained that before he called on Zelania he had visited every other country on Oliffa, and had studied the "inferior" races carefully, but the Maoris stood solitary and alone. All others lacked physical fibre and mental stamina, and for them to remain in contact with the superior races meant many generations for doubtful growth, or a few generations for extinction. But the Maoris had now attained full manhood. They were "different" from the whites, and this was more proper than to say they were very much "inferior." They had enjoyed none of the advantages of outside communication, no aid from tameable animals, no experiences by the chase, no traditions of industrial art, during probably more than five hundred years. Yet the Maori seems to have attained to a surprising degree a fairly full mental and physical stature. He has eloquence, perception, inquisitiveness and acquisitiveness. He has everything but--civilisation. He has the soul, but it needs tuning; the material, but it needs shaking-up and seasoning. The magic touch of a newer, a higher inspiration is needed, and that is being injected into his awakening consciousness by a benign social sentiment. "To-day," said Oseba, "the Zelania Maori, as seen in his grotesque works of art, in his struggle for wild independence, in his weird religious ceremony, in his common avocations as toiler, professional man or politician, is the most picturesque human being on the planet, and his presence in Zelania gives a seasoning of romance to be studied and enjoyed in no other land."