"War to the Knife;" or, Tangata MaoriBoldrewood, Rolf
General
"War to the Knife;" or, Tangata Maori
Boldrewood, Rolf
Māori (New Zealand people) -- Fiction; New Zealand -- Fiction
A sure and deadly shot, he made excellent practice with the navy
revolver which he carried in his belt. So that, in addition to his
general knowledge of the people and the country, Massinger rightly
judged that he might have searched far before finding so perfect a
pathfinder; at the same time, a comrade of courage and resource, on
whom he might rely in the hour of need.
By the time they had fully refreshed themselves in the rushing tide
of the Huka, they discovered that a considerable body of spectators
had gathered on the higher terrace which commanded the spot which they
had chosen for their ablutions. As they passed through the crowd now
collected between them and their _whares_, from time to time such words
were heard as, "_Kapai te Pakeha, kapai!_" "_Kapai te Rangatira!_"
but all was in the nature of compliment to the travellers, and more
particularly the pakeha, or white stranger. Warwick they appeared to
regard as akin to them, and therefore not possessing the charm of
mystery. Food was then brought, more than sufficient in quantity, and
by no means to be despised by men whose appetite had been sharpened by
a toilsome day's journey and the eager air of this antarctic wilderness.
The traveller had bread, and even butter, in his packs. With these
aids, and, of course, quart-pot tea, the repast, if wanting in
delicacy, was yet ample and satisfactory. After its completion, and
the lighting of the after-breakfast pipe, he felt fully equal to the
inauguration of the expedition, and awaited somewhat impatiently the
appearance of the tutelar divinity.
"How about the maiden fair? Do you think she has changed her mind,
Warwick?"
"Another woman might, but not Erena," said the guide, with an air of
conviction. "Before long she will come round the corner of that hill. I
dare say she'll have some of her people with her. She's an aristocrat
in her way."
"I should think she was," said the other, with an air of entire
conviction. "She should be a most interesting study. Are there many
more of the intellectual daughter of the soil sort, in these woods and
forests? She is like Rosalind in the forest of Arden, but there does
not appear to be an Orlando so far. I shall be anxious to see the other
damsels."
"There will be two, if not three, with her today. One of her male
cousins is a fellow whose company I'd rather not have now, or at any
time; said to be an admirer of hers, which makes him more objectionable
still. Here they come, however, with Erena marching ahead like a queen!
Three girls, and a young fellow who's been educated at sea, with this
sulky brute Ngarara--confound _him_ very particularly!--bringing up the
rear."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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