Without a moment’s delay the pursuit began, the Colonel with the main body making for Weraroa, while Kepa with a party of his own men followed up the spoor of the retreating Hau Haus. In a very short time he came up with their rear-guard, who turned, and in overpowering numbers attacked him, but he succeeded after a brisk hand-to-hand fight in getting clear of them, and turned the tables by hanging on their skirts until the firing brought up one of our divisions, when the Hau Haus were so roughly handled that they broke and fled and the pursuit went on. Bivouacking that night on their line of retreat we advanced next day to Moturoa, where we had been defeated the previous year, and where we fully expected the enemy would make a determined stand. Strong as the place was, however, Titokowaru had not seen fit to hold it, but had passed on, so we took the opportunity of gathering together the remains of the poor fellows we had had to abandon on that unfortunate day, and cremated them. Without going into nauseous particulars I may state there was ample evidence of how they had been desecrated by the enemy, which did not improve the temper of their comrades. Some sharp skirmishing ensued, in which we always got the best of it, but after a few days we had to fall back owing to the lack of food, it being impossible to furnish us, in the rough and broken country, even with the scantiest supply of rations. As we retired the enemy followed us, and soon let us know they had done so, as a sergeant and nine men who had crossed the Waitotara River in a canoe, for the purpose of gathering peaches, were attacked by seventy Hau Haus. These sportsmen fired a volley at our men while they were picking the fruit, but hit no one. The white men seized their rifles and made a bolt for the river, which they reached in safety, and where, had they made a stand under cover of the bank, they might have stood their pursuers off, as the already alarmed camp was in sight and quite close to, but instead of doing so they tried to escape in the canoe, and the Hau Haus lining the bank shot them down in a heap, killing seven and wounding one. The natives were immediately driven back, but not before they had dreadfully mutilated the dead men. Just as we had recuperated and were about to again take the field we received the news of an outbreak at White Cliffs, north of Taranaki, which began by the cold-blooded murder of Lieutenant Gascoigne, his wife and three children, together with the Rev. Mr Whiteley. The latter was a man much respected by all classes of white men, for he was one of the very few missionaries who could deeply sympathise with the natives, and yet forbear to throw mud at his own countrymen.