As Warwick had foretold, the little party came round the corner of the mount and made straight for the centre of the village. By this time the grey mare had been brought up and saddled. Upon her the various packs were placed, to the great interest and excitement of the youth of the community, who gathered round and commented freely upon the _personnel_ and otherwise of the expedition. Discovering by experience that, with some additions, the mare was sufficiently weighted, and that riding in such a country was more trouble than it was worth, her owner elected to travel on foot, like the rest of the party. This would leave him more at liberty to examine the botanical and geological features of the strange region upon which they were entering. The position, too, would be more dignified than riding at a foot pace, pushing his way through entangling thickets. Besides all this, he would, in right of his position as head and paymaster of the expedition, be entitled to take his place alongside of the most interesting personage. Thus, in the daily march, he would enjoy the original converse of an unspoiled daughter of Eve, fresh from Nature's bosom, unhackneyed by the artifices and conventional deceits of the children of the world. He walked forward and greeted the forest maiden, who smiled frankly and held out her hand, which he took with becoming _empressement_. In one comprehensive glance at her, before he relinquished it, he noted the details of her dress and equipment. Her figure, statuesque in every curve and line as the Venus of Milo, was scarcely concealed by the robe which, thrown across the chest and upper arm, revealed in part the outline of her classic bust, while affording full play to every motion of the arms and hands. A species of kirtle, coming below the knee, left her lower limbs free and unconfined. Her feet were bare, the smallness of which, as well as the delicate moulding of the limbs, betrayed her British ancestry. Perfectly attired for travel through the steep ascents, the treacherous morasses and dense woodland of her native land, as with sparkling eyes and gladsome expression she walked forth at the head of the little party, Massinger thought he had never before seen a more perfect presentment of the nymph of the legends of Hellas. "We must say good-bye to the chief," she said; "it is _tika_--due and proper respect. Besides, if we leave without the paper he promised me we may have trouble." They accordingly marched up to the chief's abode, upon which the venerable warrior walked forward to meet them. He spoke a few words to Warwick, who replied in his own tongue. "Is the pakeha's heart strong to journey to the hot lakes and the burning earth, and does he not fear the warriors of Te Heu Heu who will be in his path?" "The pakeha is a _toa_," replied the guide. "He fears no man. With his _tuparra_ he can shoot men as far as he can see them, and he has a pocket-gun, which carries six men's lives, in his belt. So have I."