How did the human inhabitants of the district fare at Roto-rua and Ohinemutu? Close at hand as they were, no damage was done to life or limb. They were outside the range of the destroying messengers. But nearer to the volcano, in and about Roto-mahana, utter ruin was wrought, and here unfortunately the natives of the Ngati Rangitihi, living at Wairoa and on some other spots, could not escape. Some of them, indeed, were encamped at the time on islets in Roto-mahana itself, and they of course were instantly annihilated in the midst of the convulsion. Their fellow tribesmen at Wairoa went through a more lingering ordeal, to meet, nearly all of them, the same death. About an hour after midnight Mr. Hazard, the Government teacher of the native school at Wairoa, was with his family roused by the earthquake shocks. Looking out into the night they saw the flaming cloud go up from Tarawera, ten miles away. As they watched the spectacle, half in admiration, half in terror, the father said to his daughter, “If we were to live a hundred years, we should not see such a sight again.” He himself did not live three hours, for he died, crushed by the ruin of his house as it broke down under falling mud and stones. The wreck of the building was set alight by a shower of fireballs, yet the schoolmaster’s wife, who was pinned under it by a beam, was dug out next day and lived. Two daughters survived with her; three children perished. Other Europeans in Wairoa took refuge in a hotel, where for hours they stayed, praying and wondering how soon the downpour of fire, hot stones, mud and dust would break in upon them. In the end all escaped save one English tourist named Bainbridge. The Maori in their frail thatched huts were less fortunate; they made little effort to save themselves, and nearly the whole tribe was blotted out. One of them, the aged wizard Tukoto, is said to have been dug out alive after four days: but his hair and beard were matted with the volcanic stuff that had been rained upon him. The rescuers cut away the hair, and Tukoto’s strength thereupon departed like Samson’s. At any rate the old fellow gave up the ghost. In after days he became the chief figure in a Maori legend, which now accounts for the eruption. It seems that a short while before it, the wife of a neighbouring chief had denounced Tukoto for causing the death of her child. Angry at an unjust charge, the old wizard prayed aloud to the god of earthquakes, and to the spirit of Ngatoro, the magician who kindled Tongariro, to send down death upon the chief’s wife and her people. In due course destruction came, but the gods did not nicely discriminate, so Tukoto and those round him were overwhelmed along with his enemies. At another native village not far away the Maori were more fortunate. They had living among them Sophia the guide, whose _wharé_ was larger and more strongly built than the common run of their huts. Sophia, too,