During the night we had one false alarm, caused by a patrol falling into a ditch, and various ill-bred Hau Haus prowled round us, telling us nasty things about ourselves. One of these lewd fellows kept it up till daylight, and so interfered with one man’s rest that just at day-dawn he took his carbine and went gunning after the disturber of his slumber. Good luck attended him, for just as it became light enough to see his foresight the retiring night prowler, all of a sudden calling to mind something very ribald that he had up to that moment forgotten to say, paused at the edge of the bush to unburden himself. Silly fellow, he had better have taken cover, for he had only made one indecent gesture, and had only shouted a small portion of what he had to say, when something hit him, and, ceasing his oration, he took a header among the fern, where the last thing he ever heard in this world was the laughter of the men he had lost his life in trying to insult. The Maoris had left us a bare larder in Te Whenuanui Pah, and our rations, bad as they had been when issued to us, were by now quite unfit for human food, and that day we ran completely out of even the offal we had carried, so we were not sorry when about midday we came across a pah called Tatahoata, which afterwards turned out to be the real Ruatahuna. This pah, or rather fortification, was built on a flat, with a dense bush to its right front; the Whakatane River, with precipitous banks, on its left; a deep, rocky creek with high, scrub-covered sides defended its rear; while a small but thick bush commanded its right flank. It was indeed an ugly-looking place, but take it we must, or starve. After an hour spent in reconnoitring, the different divisions were told off for their several lines of attack, and, the advance being sounded, we all moved forward. The Maoris were not only holding the pah, but they had detached parties in the bush who had to be driven back before we could rush the work itself. We had just about completed this portion of the game when, for some reason that has never been explained, the Colonel’s bugler, without receiving orders, sounded the cease fire, together with the retire twice over, and then fell, shot dead. The calls filled everyone with astonishment, nearly amounting to consternation, but of course the orders were obeyed, and before the O.C. and the few men he had with him could rush round with counter-orders the natives charged up to our retiring divisions and poured in a heavy fire, which killed and wounded a lot of men, among the former being Captain Trevor.