"The pakeha is good; his word is strong. I should much like him to live here. Let him ask Erena in marriage from her father, and his days will be many." "The pakeha does not desire to marry just at present, even if Erena would accept him. His heart is in his own land. He wishes to see all the country before he settles down." "That is well. The bird flies all round before he perches. But if the tribes dance the war-dance, on account of this trouble about the Waitara, what will he do then? The first _taua_ of the Ngatiawa that he meets will kill him." "The pakeha is brave. He can shoot a man afar off. He will go back to Waitemata or die. He has also a letter from Waka Nene." "That is good for the Arawa and the Ngapuhi, but the Waikato will not regard it. It may be that the white man's Atua will keep him from harm." With which sentiment the audience terminated. With the exception of the world-famed terraces, no spot on earth was so rich in strange and wondrous surroundings as this great lake of unfathomable depth, a thousand feet above the sea, sleeping amidst its volcanic blocks of quartzose lava and huge masses of pumice-stone. To the north-west they gazed at the wooded ridges of Rangitoto and Tuhua, and, three thousand feet above the sea, the bare turreted pyramids of Titerau, towering in pride, as might, on the castled Rhine, the ruined fortress of a forgotten robber-baron. White pumice-stone cliffs gleaming in the sun bordered the eastern shore. Behind the sombre forest ranges, pyramidal monoliths, piercing the heavens at yet greater altitudes, gave to this amazing landscape the fantastic aspect of a dream-world. "When shall we awaken?" said Massinger, as he and Erena, lingering behind their guide as they strolled towards the camp, became conscious that the day was declining. "This is the newest land of enchantment. I feel like a lotus-eater, removed from the world of everyday life. I could almost be tempted to cast in my lot with this careless-living race, wandering here till life grew dim, and the distinctions between what our fathers used to call right and wrong faded into uncertainty. I can imagine some men doing it." "But not you. Oh! do not talk in that reckless fashion. Another might waste his life among these poor ignorant people; but you have a man's work yet to do in the world--a name to make, a family to remember. But"--as he smiled at her vehemence--"you are only joking; you are laughing at the poor Maori girl, who thought for a moment that you were in earnest. Let us walk faster; it will soon be dark, and we have some distance still to go." A change seemed suddenly to have come over the spirit of the girl. From being carelessly playful in manner, as she had been in their rambles all the day, she became silent and reserved till they reached the camp. There she retired at once to where the other women had fixed their quarters, merely remarking that they would have to leave early if they hoped to reach the terraces.