The foreigners at once attached themselves to us, but old Jack had to return that evening to Tauranga, so that after his oaths of gladness at meeting us had rolled away like summer thunder he drank a tot out of my flask, forced me to accept a big prick of naval tobacco, and drifted away, swearing softly, to join his party. “Et maintenant, messieurs,” quoth Pierre, “I will do myself ze honour of taking charge of messieurs’ cuisine.” “But, Pierre,” I said, “where is the famous _batterie_?” “Ah, monsieur, ze brave pot, ze poor pot; ah, monsieur, such misfortune, my magnificent pot lies mort sur le champ de battaille. Ah, monsieur, it was heart-rending. George and myself were retreating, and the sacred savages were coming fast behind us, but we cleared them, when les enfants d’enfer, seeing us escape, fired a volley, plom I fall on my face. George help me to rise. I am not killed nor much hurt, but my pot, my dear pot lies in pieces. I am distressed. I am enraged. Revenge. I yearn for revenge. I drop on ze knee and fire. Ah! Ah! I see one of ze canaille throw his arms on high and fall. I have my revenge. I say, ‘Vive la France!’ George say, ‘Damn good shot. Come, let’s cut and run,’ and we cut and run. So, mon officier, ze grand pot est mort, mais Pierre remains at monsieur’s service and has ze wherewithal to prepare ze dinner for his two officers. Let messieurs remain tranquil. We shall see.” Messieurs remained tranquil, and in good time, instead of supping off the putrid pork and mouldy biscuits Tim had been fumbling over, we enjoyed a delicious ragout of fowls, fresh pork, potatoes and the Lord only knows what else. It is well for you, oh, my son, when on active service two scallywag foreigners, past masters in the art of looting, and owning not one ghostly idea of _meum_ and _tuum_, attach themselves to you and take upon themselves the onerous duty of catering for your table. Be not inquisitive, oh, my son; ask no questions, but accept the luck Providence sends you and you will fare sumptuously. In due course of time the scouts returned and reported that Te Kooti had abandoned Ngatapa. They had not approached the place closely, but said he had done so, because they had seen large volumes of smoke, and thought Te Kooti was burning his huts before leaving.