Two old chiefs, tattooed veterans of the war, their long hair adorned with feathers, weapons of wood and stone in their hands, angrily assailed each other. One was Rupé, the other was Horopapera Matangi. One advocated the sale of surplus lands, the other vigorously opposed it, and insisted on the principle of "Maori land for Maori men." Then there arose a dispute about the ownership of a _tangiwai_ (greenstone pendant). From argument they came to hurling abusive threats at each other. At last Rupé furiously hurled his weapon--a sharp wooden spear--at Horopapera, who dodged it, and cleverly caught it near the butt end as it whistled past him. He instantly smartly returned it to its owner, spearing him through the leg. Next two women went at it. Women of rank these, who considered themselves entitled to equal debating voice with the men-folk. Their powers of rhetoric and invective exhausted, they fell on each other very literally "tooth and nail," biting, hair-pulling, scratching, screaming. In their struggle they tore each other's clothes off, and two nude Amazons raged round the _marae_. One of the wild women, a young chieftainess, her long hair streaming behind her, her pendant breasts quivering, her shoulders bleeding, seized a canoe paddle and struck her antagonist a blow across the naked back with it. The other grabbed a _tokotoko_, or walking-staff, and, thrusting it between her opponent's legs, neatly up-ended her, in the "altogether," on the green _marae_. By this time the whole tribe were into the battle, with sticks, paddles, spears, and any weapon they could lay their hands on--men and women alike. It was a real faction fight. Fortunately, the people had left their guns in their _wharés_, and were too intent upon their hand-to-hand encounter to run for their firearms. Kimble Bent stood on one side watching the squabble. He was close to the river-bank, where the canoes were tied up. Presently, one of the Maoris ran down to the water-side with an axe, and began furiously cutting away at his antagonists' canoes. Others ran to the cooking _hangis_, and with burning sticks from the ovens set fire to some of the thatched houses in the _kainga_. Soon there was a pretty blaze, and half the village was burned down in a few minutes. In half an hour's time the people had cooled down, and the trouble was over. Then--a Hibernian people the Maoris, surely!--they began to weep over their quarrel, and fell on each other's necks--or, rather, pressed each other's noses--to make up for the hard words and blows they had just exchanged, and set to work to rebuild the dwellings they had destroyed in their hasty anger. * * * * *