An opening had been made in the ranks to enable the heavy gun to open fire. Through this, in the full light of the afternoon sun, the unconquered garrison marched out steadily, as if going to church in the peaceful days of missionary rule. Rewi ordered that no shot should be fired. The scanty ammunition would be all needed for the marsh passage, on the route to the Puniu river. Like the Moorish monarch giving his last sigh to the glories of the Alhambra and the snow-crowned Sierras, did Rewi cast a lingering look on his ancestral possessions? Eastward frowned Maunga-tautari, on the flank of the great Waikato plain. Pirongi on the west held watch and ward over the Waipu. Kihi-kihi, his own settlement, was in the hands of the pakeha. But, the Puniu once crossed, there was refuge in the forests of Rangitoto. The marsh was reached, though many fell before the converging fire of the troops. The cavalry intercepted them at the neck. Many were thus slain; but, in spite of all losses, the main body gained the Puniu river and escaped, after a pursuit lasting over six miles. Orakau had fallen; of the garrison, nearly one half lay dead around the pah or on the Puniu river trail. How stubborn a fight had they made for three days and two nights against fearful odds, short as they became of food, water, and ammunition! The sap had reached the last ditch. Even then they did not despair. They might die, but would not yield. Maunga-tautari was abandoned. Rewi's warriors were scattered. It was the Maori Flodden; and the crossing of the Puniu was akin to that of the historic river, immortalized in the verse of the Magician of the North-- "Tweed's echoes heard the ceaseless plash, As many a broken band, Disordered through her currents dash, To gain the Scottish land." "This Orakau business should finish up the infernal war, any one would think," said Mr. Slyde on the following morning, when, after a decent night's rest, a complete personal renovation, and a breakfast, much assisted by the arrival of fresh supplies, he and Massinger were cleaning their accoutrements. "But surely it _will_ end it," replied Massinger, with an air of conviction. "More than a hundred natives were found dead. It is almost certain that fifty more were either killed or mortally wounded. The rest are scattered. They will never be so mad as to tackle the troops we can bring against them now, engineers and artillery too, besides the volunteers and friendlies." "Any other country, any other people, quite so," assented Mr. Slyde, in a tone of philosophical argument; "but Maoris devils incarnate when their blood is up. Remember what Tutakaro said, chaffed with fighting against us once and for us afterwards?" "No. I saw the man, though--fine, powerful youngster." "Beggar coolly replied, 'What matter? Fighting is fighting: if we young fellows can get a share of it, don't much care which side we go for.'" "And did he go well for us?"