The officer having been carried to the rear, Lucas stood guard over the other wounded, towards whom the Maoris, breaking cover for the first time, made an ugly rush. The colour-sergeant had several rifles at hand, and adopting savage tactics, he got behind a tree, only showing himself to neatly “pot” an enemy. It was one man against a hundred; but, like Private McManus in “Dhoolie Square,” he made himself properly respected by the natives, and he held his position until a reinforcement arrived to relieve him of his charge. A more exciting experience fell to the lot of a sergeant of the York and Lancaster Regiment (the old 65th) two years later. While in action with a large body of Maoris both his superior officers, Captain Swift and Lieutenant Butler, were wounded, and the duty of withdrawing the little force devolved upon him. Sergeant Edward McKenna, who had a strong strain of Irish blood in him, showed himself the man for the occasion. The district was a broken and rugged piece of country near Camerontown, and swarmed with Maoris. If he wished to save his officers’ lives and the lives of the whole detachment, he had to act boldly. Accordingly, leaving Corporal Ryan and three or four men to protect the wounded captain and lieutenant, and relying on the main body of the troops soon finding them, he went slap-dash at the Maoris on the hill in front of him. The charge scattered the natives to a safe distance. Then, night coming on, McKenna and his party camped in a convenient spot in the bush. Very soon, however, this position became unsafe. So back along the bush path they trailed, firing at their invisible enemy as they went, and having some other wounded now thrown on their hands. Owing to the darkness and the intricacies of the bush, the sergeant eventually lost his way, and, as he said afterwards, there was nothing to do but to sit down and wait for daylight. So all through the night they squatted on the ground, McKenna mounting guard with ears alert for the faintest sound of an enemy; but fortunately none came. And in the morning he had the satisfaction of leading his party back to camp to report that only one was killed and two were missing out of the thirty-eight men he had manœuvred so skilfully. Sergeant McKenna received a warm word of commendation in the despatches from General Cameron, the Commander-in-Chief, for that piece of business, together with the Victoria Cross, the same honour falling to Corporal Ryan, whose devotion to Captain Swift, however, failed to save that gallant officer’s life. Several of the others who figured prominently in the affair were rewarded with the Distinguished Conduct Medal. Two very brilliant individual exploits that I may note here won the V.C. for Major C. Heaphy of the Auckland Militia, and Lieutenant-Colonel (afterwards Major-General Sir) John Carstairs McNeill, of the 107th Regiment.