Of course a body of men as large as this one was bound to be spotted leaving camp, so that to mislead the enemy’s scouts he first marched to the fort on the Waingangora River and pretended to start work there, but at ten P.M. we silently left there, crossed the river, and made for an old deserted pah where our scouts had come across a well-defined track running inland. This track they had scouted until it had ended in a clearing, but could penetrate no farther as the enemy’s scouts were too much on the alert. However, he hoped that he had blinded them by what we had done at Waingangora. Well, we started, passed the deserted pah, moved carefully on till we came to the clearing, and then, as we were ignorant of the actual position of the Hau Haus, we lay down and waited. Presently we heard, not far off, some cocks crow, which giving us the desired information we moved off in their direction, and had not proceeded a mile when, just as day broke, we came to a long, narrow clearing with a lot of huts scattered all the way up it. As there was no possibility of surrounding the place our O.C., without a pause, led us right up it, leaving a few men at the door of each hut as we passed, who, with carbines loaded and cocked, stood at them without making a sound. The movement, quickly conceived as it was, was admirably carried out, for although before it was quite completed an alarm was given, yet very few natives escaped, nor was there the least confusion as the men, all of whom were old hands, stood ready without saying a word. When the arrangements were finished to his satisfaction the Colonel posted himself in front of the largest and most central hut, and delivered his ultimatum, shouting out: “Will ye, O Ngatiruanui, who are now surrounded, surrender yourselves as prisoners of war or be shot?” The query was a brief one; the answer was still briefer, for it came in the shape of a volley fired from all the huts that dropped a lot of our men, although it would have been better for the inmates had they considered their answer more carefully, as Rangers are not men with whom to bandy words. For in a moment fire was applied to every whare, which, being built of dry raupo as inflammable as petrol, burst into sheets of flame that transformed the quiet village into an animated hell. Out from the flaming whares rushed men, half mad, with scorched hides and blazing hair, only to be blown off their feet by shots fired from a few yards distant, while the flames, smoke, explosions of powder, yells, cheers and shots, together with the roar and crackling of the burning huts, made a service that sunny Sabbath morning that must have delighted Old Nick himself.