This, to Bent's great relief, ended the ordeal. The Hauhaus, at a cry from the priest, began their mad march round the _Niu_--men, women, and children--chanting as they went their savage psalms, rolling their eyes and lifting their arms high in the air as every now and again they cried their wild refrain, "_Riré, riré, hau!_"--the last word literally barked out from the hundreds of throats. When the Hauhau ceremony was at an end, a young woman who had joined in the march round the _Niu_ came to Bent, took him away to a hut and gave him a meal of pork and potatoes, and then led him to her father's house. The father was the principal chief of the _kainga_, and, as it turned out, cousin to Bent's _rangatira_ Tito. Here the white man spent the night, the chief's daughter lying across the entrance just inside the doorway, for fear--as the chief told him--that some young desperado might take it into his head to earn a little notoriety by tomahawking the pale-face. Outside, the Maoris were gathered on the _marae_, by the light of great fires, the chiefs making speeches and _taki_-ing up and down in excited fashion, weapon in hand; now and again the fanatic crowd would burst into a loud Hauhau chant that echoed long amidst the black encircling forest. So the wild _korero_ went on, far into the night. CHAPTER IV IN THE OTAPAWA STOCKADE The return from Keteonetea--The hill-fort at Otapawa--A _korero_ with the Hauhaus--Bent's one-eyed wife--"The wooing o' 't"--Bent is christened "Ringiringi." Morning came at last, but the solitary white man in this nest of savages had hardly closed his eyes. More than once he fancied some one was trying the low door of the _wharé_, and he looked round the dimly-lighted hut--a small fire was kept burning in the centre of the floor--in search of a weapon, but found none. Bent lay there, listening intently, and longing with an inexpressibly bitter longing for the old camp-life, hard though it was, and for the sound of a white comrade's voice. It had not always been "pack-drill and C.B." in his army life, in spite of the tyrant sergeants. But now it was the bush and the _wharé_ for the rest of his days--or, in other words, for just so long a period as he might be able to save his head from the tomahawk. Daybreak--and no sooner was it light than the Hauhaus began to gather round the _pakeha's_ hut, while the women were lighting the _hangis_--the earth steam-ovens--for the first meal of the day. "Come out to us!" they yelled; "come out, _pakeha_!" They ran to and fro in front of the _wharé_, and raised barking cries that sounded fearfully menacing to the _pakeha_ sitting on his low mat-bed, and feeling not in the least disposed to respond to the invitation to come outside and be killed. But the old chief speedily ended the uproar by opening the sliding door and shouting angrily: