Crack! What do I hear? Down in the deep I felt a shock, and actually heard a sudden noise. Is it the "crack of doom?" No, it is my frock-coat gone at one split "from clue to earing"--split down the back. Oh, if my pistols would go off, a fiery and watery death shouldst thou die, Caliban. Egad! they have gone off--they are both gone to the bottom! My boots are getting heavy! Humane Society, ahoy! where is your boat-hook?--where is your bellows? Humane Society, ahoy! We are now drifting fast by a sandy point, after which there will be no chance of landing,--the tide will take us right out to sea. My friend is very hard to drown--I must finish him some other time. We both swim for the point, and land. And this is how I got ashore on Maori land. CHAPTER III. A Wrestling Match.--Beef against Melons.--The Victor gains a Loss.--"Our Chief."--His Speech.--His _status_ in the Tribe.--Death of "Melons."--Rumours of Peace and War.--Getting the Pa in Fighting Order.--My Friend the "Relation Eater."-- Expectation and Preparation.--Arrival of doubtful Friends.--Sham Fight.--The "Taki."--The War Dance.--Another Example of Maori Hospitality.--Crocodile's Tears.--Loose Notions about Heads.-- Tears of Blood.--Brotherly Love.--Capital Felony.--Peace. Something between a cheer, a scream, and a roar, greets our arrival on the sand. An English voice salutes me with "Well, you served that fellow out." One half of my coat hangs from my right elbow, the other from my left; a small shred of the collar is still around my neck. My hat, alas! my hat is gone. I am surrounded by a dense mob of natives, laughing, shouting, and gesticulating, in the most grotesque manner. Three Englishmen are also in the crowd; they seem greatly amused at something, and offer repeated welcomes. At this moment, up comes my salt-water acquaintance, elbowing his way through the crowd; there is a strange serio-comic expression of anger in his face; he stoops, makes horrid grimaces, quivering at the same time his left hand and arm about in a most extraordinary manner, and striking the thick part of his left arm with the palm of the right hand. "_Hu!_" says he, "_hu! hu!_" "What _can_ he mean?" said I. "He is challenging you to wrestle," cried one of the Englishmen; "he wants _utu_." "What is _utu_" said I. "Payment." "I won't pay him." "Oh, that's not it, he wants to take it out of you wrestling." "Oh, I see; here's at him; pull off my coat and boots: I'll wrestle him. 'His foot is in his own country, and his name is'--what?" "Sir, his name in English means 'An eater of melons:' he is a good wrestler; you must mind." "_Water_-melons, I suppose! Beef against melons for ever, hurrah! Here's at him."