The spirit spoke again. "Speak to me, the tribe!--speak to me, the family!--speak to me, the pakeha!" The "pakeha," however, was not at the moment inclined for conversation. The deep distress of the two women, the evident belief of all around him of the presence of the spirit, the "darkness visible," and the novelty of the scene, gave rise to a state of feeling not favourable to the conversational powers. Besides, I felt reluctant to give too much apparent credence to an imposture, which at the very same time, by some strange impulse, I felt half ready to give way to. At last the brother spoke, and asked, "How is it with you?--is it well with you in _that_ country?" The answer came--(the voice all through, it is to be remembered, was not the voice of the _tohunga_, but a strange melancholy sound, like the sound of the wind blowing into a hollow vessel,)--"It is well with me: my place is a good place." The brother spoke again--"Have you seen ----, and ----, and ----?" (I forget the names mentioned.) "Yes, they are all with me." A woman's voice now from another part of the room anxiously cried out--"Have you seen my sister?" "Yes, I have seen her." "Tell her my love is great towards her and never will cease." "Yes, I will tell." Here the woman burst into tears, and the pakeha felt a strange swelling of the chest, which he could in no way account for. The spirit spoke again. "Give my large tame pig to the priest," (the pakeha was disenchanted at once,) "and my double-gun." Here the brother interrupted--"Your gun is a _manatunga_; I shall keep it." He is also disenchanted, thought I, but I was mistaken; he believed, but wished to keep the gun his brother had carried so long. An idea now struck me that I could expose the imposture without showing palpable disbelief. "We cannot find your book," said I, "where have you concealed it?" The answer instantly came, "I concealed it between the _tahuhu_ of my house and the thatch, straight over you as you go in at the door." Here the brother rushed out; all was silence till his return. In five minutes he came back _with the book in his hand_! I was beaten, but made another effort.--"What have you written in that book?" said I. "A great many things." "Tell me some of them." "Which of them?" "Any of them." "You are seeking for some information, what do you want to know? I will tell you." Then suddenly--"Farewell, O tribe! farewell, my family, I go!" Here a general and impressive cry of "farewell" arose from every one in the house. "Farewell," again cried the spirit, _from deep beneath the ground_! "Farewell," again from _high in air_! "Farewell," again came moaning through the distant darkness of the night. "Farewell!" I was for a moment stunned. The deception was perfect. There was a dead silence--at last. "A ventriloquist," said I--"or--or--_perhaps_ the devil."