“At that moment Sergeant Carron, who had been sniffing around with his usual acuteness, reported to me that there were Maoris in the bush. This decided me in relinquishing my position at once, as we could do no harm to our antagonists if they persisted in remaining in the bush. I had hardly drawn my men down the knoll on which the dwelling-house stood when down came a volley over the heads of the last men disappearing behind the hill. I took up a better position within 300 yards of it, where logs and fern gave good cover to the ground in our favour. But the Maoris would no more cross that swamp in front of us than we would in front of them; so, looking at one another wrathfully, and shaking a figurative fist, we parted at last without much harm done to either side.” The redoubt now built on the highest part of the Kihikihi village (the spot is just behind the present police station) was garrisoned by Imperial troops for a time, and then by Waikato Militia. In the Seventies, and, in fact, until about 1883, it was occupied by the Armed Constabulary. Unfortunately it was demolished in the Eighties by the townspeople, who did not realise the value of this large and picturesquely-set earthwork as a place of future historic interest. The Forest Rangers now camped at Kihikihi for some time. On 29th February, 1864, the first expedition was made to Orakau village. Von Tempsky, describing this bit of work, wrote: “The Maoris at Orakau kept hanging about, irresolute what to do, till we saw them commencing to dig rifle-pits, and then it was high time to give them notice to quit. Colonel Waddy mustered his whole strength, and away we went under the firm impression that we would have a warm afternoon of it. The Forest Rangers were in the advance. There was much scrub on each side of the road, and we had also orders to break down any fence that might impede the action of the cavalry. We had broken down one or two across our road already, when the Maoris commenced with some desultory shots at cannon range. But suddenly I saw a peculiar sort of fence across the road—a stake fence bound with new flax, therefore a new work—a rising bank behind it, with a suspicious look about the crown. “‘Listen, men,’ I said. ‘We must make one broad rush at that place—one long, strong, all-together push—and that fence must go down. Then up the bank like lightning.’ “Thus arranged—thus it was done. With a cheer a wave of sprightly fellows dashed against that fence. Down it went—up the bank we flew. There were the masked rifle-pits just dug and just deserted. They had stuck sprigs and branches of tea-tree into the newly-thrown-up earth to hide the presence of those pits.