With the disappearance of the Hauhau leader vanished the last sign of active resistance against the might and rule of the Pakeha. Smiling faces were not yet everywhere; there were too many tears to be dried on both sides for that, and the passions of strong men do not cool in a day, even when strife has ceased. The conquerors, too, must learn to temper their exultation with sympathy, the conquered must accustom their necks to the yoke, and all these things take time. But the very fact, insisted upon above, that--the Hauhau movement apart--the war had been waged in generous spirit, hastened the period of cooling off, and on February the 2nd, 1872, Wiremu Kingi Te Rangitake, the chief of Waitara, visited New Plymouth (Taranaki) when tomahawk and _mere_, _patu_, and _tupara_ were buried, never again to be dug up. Three years later, on the 3rd of January, Tawhiao, the Maori King, shook the hand which Sir Donald McLean extended to him on behalf of the Government, and the last wintry clouds of discontent melted in the rays of the glorious sun of peace. Never since then have the hands of the Maori been lifted against the Pakeha; ever since then have the Pakeha striven to make smooth the path of the Maori. Once only appeared a little cloud, when a man who throughout his life had advocated peace, was accused of fomenting war. Te Whiti was a Christian and a mystic, with more than his share of the keen Maori intelligence, a fine specimen of the Maori gentleman, and a man of immense influence in his tribe. He had taken no part in the great struggle, but, like Falkland, cried ever "Peace! Peace!" And when Titokowaru would have had him unite in smiting the Pakeha, he refused, nor would he allow his young men to join. Yet this man came at last (in 1877) into collision with the Government over that old bone of contention, land. There was a dispute over the parcelling out of the Waimate Plains, and Te Whiti pulled up the pegs of the surveyors and ordered the workers off, as Te Rauparaha and Rangihaeata had done thirty-four years earlier. But there was no massacre, and when Te Whiti's men were sent to prison, the chief retaliated by ploughing up the grass lands of the white men. "Put your hands to the plough!" Te Whiti cried. "Be not afraid if any come with swords and, if they smite, smite ye not again. Neither touch their goods nor steal their flocks and herds. My eye sees all of you, and I will punish the offender. Let the soldiers seize me, if they will. They may come, and I will gladly let them crucify me."