Of the first lot mentioned was old Jack, a typical grousing old shell-back whose whole existence, if you believed him, was a grievance. Still he was always one of the first to fall in for any extra work or hardship the corps might be called on to face, and would volunteer for any nasty job, grumbling while he performed it, as if he were a victim to bitter injustice, and had been forced against his will and out of his turn to undertake it. In fact, as Tim put it, “Sure ould Jack wud grumble if he got a first-class passage to heaven, wid free drinks at all the stoppin’ places. But maybe he’d be right, seeing all his friends and acquaintances are in the other place, and maybe the ould boy wud fancy he’d been put in the wrong train agin his own inclinations.” Of the second class of grumblers was Mete Kingi Te Anaua, a chief of the highest rank among the Kupapas. It must be remembered that Te Kepa, although the head fighting chief, was by no means the paramount chief of his tribe, nor was he even, by birth, of first-class importance, for although of aristocratic descent he owed his position to election as the most highly intellectual fighting man among the Wanganui. Of this there was no doubt, and on the war-path his word was law, not to be quibbled at nor questioned, but in camp the men were very prone to be led away by the arguments emanating from such a high-born source as the Right _Dis_honourable Mete Kingi, who did everything in his power to render the utility of his tribe nugatory. Also it must not be supposed the Kupapas were fighting on our side on account of any love they bore the white man, far from it, the reason they fought being the intense hatred they entertained against the hostile tribes, their old-time enemies, who were in arms against us and also against the crazy, fanatical religion that had turned these tribes from being whitewashed Christians into howling bloodthirsty murderers. Massa Mete Kingi hated the white man, and although self-preservation prevented him from open rebellion, still he wasted no opportunity of thwarting and hampering their movements. This projected march of the General was of course far too good a chance for Mete to let slide, so he made his game accordingly, and played it for all he was worth. Colonel McDonnell, however, had foreseen the probability of him raising trouble. He had been absent from camp for two days, but returned that night at twelve P.M., bringing with him Dr Featherstone, an old settler in whom the Maoris had great confidence. These two gentlemen on their arrival went to the Kupapas’ line, where they quickly ascertained that these Johnnies, prompted by Mete Kingi, had made up their minds not to start; in fact they announced their determination to at once return home. A general runanga (meeting) was promptly assembled, to which Mr Roach, knowing my anxiety to hear and see everything appertaining to native customs, kindly called me.