or twice the _tohunga_ said to him in a very loud voice, "The tribe are assembled, you won't die silent?" At last, after about half an hour, he became restless, his eyes rolled from side to side, and he tried to speak, but failed. The circle of men closed nearer, and there was evidence of anxiety and expectation amongst them, but a dead silence was maintained. At last, suddenly, without any apparent effort, and in a manner which startled me, the old man spoke clearly out, in the ringing metallic tone of voice for which he had been formerly so remarkable, particularly when excited. He spoke. "Hide my bones quickly where the enemy may not find them: hide them at once." He spoke again--"Oh my tribe, be brave! be brave that you may live. Listen to the words of my pakeha; he will unfold the designs of his tribe." This was in allusion to a very general belief amongst the natives at the time, that the Europeans designed sooner or later to exterminate them and take the country, a thing the old fellow had cross-questioned me about a thousand times; and the only way I could find to ease his mind was to tell him that if ever I heard any such proposal I would let him know, protesting at the same time that no such intention existed. This notion of the natives has since that time done much harm, and will do more, for it is not yet quite given up. He continued--"I give my _mere_ to my pakeha,"--"my two old wives will hang themselves,"--(here a howl of assent from the two old women in the rear rank)--"I am going; be brave, after I am gone." Here he began to rave; he fancied himself in some desperate battle, for he began to call to celebrated comrades who had been dead forty or fifty years. I remember every word--"Charge!" shouted he--"Charge! _Wata_, charge! _Tara_, charge! charge!" Then after a short pause--"Rescue! rescue! to my rescue! _ahau! ahau! rescue!_" The last cry for "rescue" was in such a piercing tone of anguish and utter desperation, that involuntarily I advanced a foot and hand, as if starting to his assistance; a movement, as I found afterwards, not unnoticed by the superstitious tribe. At the same instant that he gave the last despairing and most agonizing cry for "rescue," I saw his eyes actually blaze, his square jaw locked, he set his teeth, and rose nearly to a sitting position, and then fell back dying. He only murmured--"How sweet is man's flesh," and then the gasping breath and upturned eye announced the last moment. The _tohunga_ now bending close to the dying man's ear, roared out "_Kai kotahi ki te ao! Kia kotahi ki te ao! Kia kotahi ki te po!_" The poor savage was now, as I believe, past hearing, and gasping his last. "_Kai kotahi ki te ao!_"--shouted the devil priest again in his ear, and shaking his shoulder roughly with his hand--"_Kia kotahi ki te ao!--Kai kotahi ki te po!_" Then giving a significant look to the surrounding hundreds of natives, a roar of musketry burst forth. _Kai kotahi ki te ao!_ Thus