Just as the weather began to clear, a trooper riding despatch from Rotoaira to Tokanu returned at the gallop reporting that the road was blocked and that he had only scraped clear by the skin of his teeth. The friendly natives refused to believe the yarn, so next morning the Colonel, with a dozen of us mounted men, rode out to reconnoitre, and near Tokanu we found the Hau Haus had taken up a strong position on the spurs of a range overlooking the track. They at once opened a heavy fire on us, but following the Colonel’s lead we galloped past them, and in a few minutes met a strong body of friendlies, led by Captain St George, who had come out of Tokanu to ascertain the cause of the firing. The Colonel immediately dismounted, and led the natives on to the attack, while we mounted men cantered into action opening the ball. The Hau Haus were in strong force, swarming on the top of the range across the spurs of which they had dug lines of shelter trenches, the first line of which, the Colonel leading, we took with a rush, but the main body of the Hau Haus, undaunted, swept in masses down the spurs to drive us back. At the start we were far outnumbered, but were being reinforced every moment by fresh arrivals of friendlies from both camps, who, coming up at the run, threw themselves promiscuously into the fight. The charge of the Hau Haus downhill at us was indeed a pretty sight, as they came on like mountain torrents, yelling like devils and waving their weapons in the air. McDonnell, however, had us well in hand, and shouted to us to restrain our fire, which we did until they were within ten yards of us, when at his word we all fired, and followed up the volley with a charge that effectually dammed their torrents of attack. Faith, it was as swate a little fight as I have ever had the luck to take part in, for, although it took place upon the spurs of a range and we had to charge uphill, yet the battle-ground was free from bush till the summit was reached, so that we could see all the fun that was going on around us. Another factor greatly to our advantage was that, the scrap being quite unpremeditated on our part, none of our limbs of Satan (prophets) had been able to dream dreams, consequently our friendlies fought with all their native courage, which was in no wise handicapped by the lugubrious prognostications of some old humbug suffering from the mullygrubs. A gay and festive hand-to-hand fight took place that lasted a few minutes, in which tomahawk clinked against tomahawk, and yell answered yell with all the reckless devilment of a good old-fashioned Irish faction fight, but at last the Hau Haus give ground, while we press them so closely, and drive them back so rapidly that they have to abandon their dead and wounded, who fall into our hands, the latter receiving the same amount of mercy as they would have bestowed upon us had the tables been turned.