"It was Titokowaru's right eye that had been destroyed by a bullet in some engagement. He was about five feet nine in height and somewhat spare and muscular, with fine bone, an alert, active man, but by no means good-looking. His skin was rather darker than the general run of Maoris, and his nose low in the bridge, with wide nostrils. His face rarely lit up pleasantly, and he was of reserved manner. His knowledge of _tikanga Maori_ was considerable, and during the war he conducted the usual ceremonies to make the war-parties successful. "The late Rev. Stannard, of Wanganui, told me that Titokowaru's name given him in baptism was _Hohepa_ (Joseph), and I have heard from Tairuakena and others that Tito was one of the young men who accompanied the Rev. Skevington on his last visit to Auckland. (This was long before the Maori War.) They journeyed overland from Te Waimate to Auckland, Mr. Skevington going to attend the Auckland Synod. While in the old High Street Church, Auckland, he died suddenly. Titokowaru and the other young men returned to bear the news to the people, as he (Tairuakena) put it, '_Ka hoki mai matou tangi, haere ki tena kainga, ki tena kainga._' Mr. Woon succeeded Mr. Skevington at Heretoa, Te Waimate. "I had one interview with Titokowaru which I shall never forget. I think it was in 1876, and before I knew Maori. Mr. William Williams, of Manaia, Taranaki, was going to visit Titokowaru at Omuturangi, on the Waimate Plains, and, as I was on my way to New Plymouth, he persuaded me to delay a day and go with him--a most unwise thing, as the Maoris had said they would shoot any one who crossed the Wai-ngongoro. We went from Hawera to Normanby, and then picked up old Kātené Tu-Whakaruru, who was just then acting as a Maori policeman. We rode along over these vast plains, with the cocksfoot brushing against our knees as we sat in our saddles. We came to a house on the edge of the bush, and found only one woman, whose face was deeply scarred; she had lately lost her child, and had been cutting herself in her grief. This woman told us that Titokowaru and the men were in the bush planting potatoes, and pointed out a narrow path, along which we galloped for a good distance, perhaps a mile.