Mr. Mannering, arriving at the end of the story, announced two facts, one of which was that the chief would be ready to receive them in half an hour; the other, that a timber-laden schooner would leave the wharf on the following afternoon, and no doubt would be happy to give Mr. Massinger and Warwick a passage to Auckland. "Of course, we should be too happy to put you up for as long as you cared to stay with us; but, from what I hear, things are going from bad to worse at Taranaki. The natives have scored what they consider a success so far, and are confident that they can hold their own against the regulars. More troops have been sent for, also artillery. Nothing less than a campaign will satisfy either side now." "If it were an ordinary time nothing would give me greater pleasure, I can say most sincerely," said Massinger. "I could fish and sail, ride and walk, and even take a turn at that mysterious industry of gum-digging, of which I hear exciting reports. But as things are, I feel in honour bound to report myself at headquarters. I am not wholly inexperienced in military matters, if a yeomanry captain's commission counts for anything." "You will find that it has a solid value at present," said Mannering. "The colonists are so keen, that any one who has ever heard a bugle-call is looked upon as a veteran." "Indeed, yes," laughed Erena. "We shall look in the papers for what happens when Major Massinger goes to the front. Only, remember our bush rambles, and don't despise the poor natives because they have no uniform. Keep a good look-out among the tree-ferns and the manuka; there will be the danger." Upon which Erena, who seemed quite as much inclined for tears as for laughter, retreated to her own dominions. * * * * * The great chief of the Ngapuhi stood near the carved porch of the _wharepuni_, surrounded by the elders of the tribe. He was dressed in his garments of ceremony, having a fine flaxen mat, worn toga-fashion, across his breast. In his hair were the rare feathers of the beautiful _huia_ which none save a chief may wear. His staff was in his hand, which he shifted to the left as he extended his right hand in friendly greeting to the pakeha. "My word to you is again welcome," he said, fixing his calm, inexpressive, but steadfast eyes upon the young man's face. "My pakeha friend Mannering tells me that you depart to Waitemata. It is well. My heart is sore because of the foolishness of the Mata Kawana. The _runanga_ of the pakeha also is obdurate." "The war has begun," said Mannering. "It seems a small matter, but this land at Waitara will be dearly bought." "A little fire will burn the forest when the fern is dry," replied the chief, gravely. "Money was given to Teira for Waitara, but blood must be paid. The chain of the surveyor is now red."