As the comrades encountered the returning warriors, who had been left as a garrison, their leader, a young chief named Rolling Thunder, called out: 'Salutations, Hortoni! The Pakeha Eagle takes an early flight; but he is too late to catch the Hawk, who has gone to flesh his beak and talons.'
'He will meet with a few more eagles who will make small account of his beak and talons,' answered George grimly. 'When does he wing his way back to his eyrie? I mean, if he ever gets the chance.'
'Not until he has scattered the fragments of the last Pakeha to the four winds,' replied Rolling Thunder proudly, and marched off in high dudgeon at their shouts of derisive laughter.
Just then Terence caught sight of a solitary figure disappearing into the bush. He recognised the man as a tutua, or common fellow, named Sounding Sea, one of the meanest and least considered Maoris in the pah, whose sly face, destitute of scars, showed him either a coward, or singularly to have lacked opportunity to gain the right to heraldic distinctions. Just then, however, there was nothing out of the way in the fellow's behaviour, so Terence thought no more about him.
'It is still very early, and I vote for exploration,' he said to George. Then he drummed idly on the rail of the bridge, gazed down into the rushing stream and sighed. Presently he looked up at his friend and smiled rather wistfully. 'I was thinking. Bad habit; isn't it, old fellow? Come; make up your mind what to do.'
'Exploration be it,' agreed George. 'Let us look for the hole into which you so gallantly dived. Like Quintus Curtius, it may yet prove that you took that plunge for the good of your country.'
He spoke lightly, knowing well what was passing in Terence's mind. By tacit consent they seldom referred to home or friends, finding the subject too painful. Terence had no near relations except his mother's sister, to whom he was devoted; but his affection for the Haughton circle was almost as deep as that of George, and the peppery colonel and his fine little brother-in-law held a very warm place in his heart. Many a silent prayer went up for their own preservation and for those they loved; for these two were brave and loyal lads, who had not learned to forget God, and were not ashamed to show that they maintained their trust in Him.
They easily found the hill upon which the Hau-hau rites had been celebrated, but though they over and over again made it their base of operations, failure met them at each attempt to discover the entrance to the underground world.
'We shall never find it,' said George; 'for even in this short time the undergrowth has covered the mouth of the hole. We must try from the other end; but if we lose ourselves——'
'We can't—with this,' interposed Terence, holding up a small, but perfect compass, made by one of England's foremost opticians. 'I stole this from the stealers, who were examining the contents of a looted saddle-bag. The compass had fallen to the ground unnoticed, and, as my feet are adapted to cover much bigger things, I calmly stood over it until I got a chance to annex it.'
'Your petty larceny is condoned by the court,' laughed George. 'I wish you could put your foot upon a couple of good revolvers.'
'Don't move,' Terence said quickly. 'Look to your right—three or four hundred yards away—without appearing to do so. There is a Maori watching us.'
George looked and laughed again. Apparently there were half a dozen Maoris, squatting upon the ground at irregular intervals, their long spears held erect, their mats hanging down so as to conceal their bodies.
'You are looking at a row of grass-trees,' George explained. 'You are not the first to mistake a grass-tree at a distance for a squatting native.'
'I did not say they were Maoris,' Terence replied coolly. 'There were six grass-trees when I first noticed them, and now there appear to be seven. Aha! Look, George. Number seven is crawling off. It is our friend Sounding Sea, who has been spying on us. I saw him dodging into the bush this morning, and now that I am sure of his game, I may tell you that I have suspected him for a week past.'
'What keen eyes you have to pick the fellow out,' said George admiringly. 'In certain lights, and at a distance, the illusion of the grass-tree is perfect. It is as well, perhaps, that we failed to find the hole, since that rascal is on our track.'
'Well, we know where we stand now,' observed Terence, 'and the gay Sounding Sea will find that two can play the game of spying. We will look for Paeroa to-morrow in spite of him.'
Late next night the friends crept out of their whare, which stood near the back of the stockade, and searched for four hours in the underground world; but they found no trace of the missing trio.
'We must get back before dawn,' said George; 'for Sounding Sea may take it into his head to pay us an earlier visit than usual. I don't think that Paeroa is hidden down here. The existence of the place is known only to the privileged few, so there would be no occasion to confine him far from the entrance.'
'Besides, I fancy that both the chief and the wizard would fight shy of the spot after their uncanny experience.' Terence chuckled at the recollection. 'Yes; come on. We can't afford to take risks.'
Thrice they unsuccessfully explored the underground reaches during the next fortnight; twice they tried, and failed, to find the forest opening; and then, suddenly, the face of the situation began to alter.
It was now three weeks since Te Karearea had set out for the front, and sick or wounded Maoris were constantly filtering into the pah, one and all with the same story to tell—the continued success of the chief, and the impending annihilation of the detested Pakeha. The worst news they brought was that of the death of old Kapua Mangu, who had been shot while weaving a spell for the destruction of the Arawas. His head had been brought back to the pah, and was now in the hands of the gentleman whose business it was to preserve the grisly relic.
One night George entered their hut in a state of great agitation. His face was pale and his eyes glittered; but for some time he sat silent, while Terence watched him anxiously.
'Anything wrong, old fellow?' he inquired at last.
'Wrong! wrong! Ay; it is all wrong together,' burst out George. 'A devil is loose upon the earth, and his name is Te Karearea. He—he——' His voice faltered, and he stopped for a moment. Then, ominously calm all at once, he resumed: 'News has come that Te Karearea and a company of his Hau-haus stole upon the settlement at Poverty Bay at night and massacred—there's no other word for it, for the poor people were quite unprepared—thirty-three people. And, Terence'—he covered his eyes with his hand—'there were women and little children among them. Your friend Major Biggs was killed, and——' He could say no more.
For a time the two sat without further speech. They felt sick with horror; for the picture of those helpless, anguished mothers and their babes would obtrude itself. But at last George sprang up and shook his great shoulders, as if throwing off some fearful oppression.
'Terence,' he said quietly, 'till now, in spite of what I knew him to be capable of, I have had a sneaking sympathy with this ruffian, with his misfortunes, with his aspirations. I knew that his point of view must be different from ours. I was inclined to make allowances. But now—now——'
'I know,' Terence said in a low voice. 'It is—it is those babies.'
George's strong teeth seemed to snap together. 'Yes; and he shall answer for them to me.' Then he went out into the night.
Next day, as they were sitting in the marae, a wounded Maori came up and said, grinning: 'Pokeke fights at the side of Te Karearea, and he constantly mutters "The great axe of Heora." He bade me tell you this, Hortoni.'
George laughed contemptuously. 'This Heora is, I believe, one of their mythical heroes,' he explained to Terence. 'When a Maori frequently repeats the words "The great axe of Heora," he means that he is keeping his mind fast set upon revenge. Well, this settles the locality of one of our trio.'
'Yes; and it shows the value of any statement made by Te Karearea,' put in Terence. 'Now I have a piece of news,' he went on. 'I have discovered something very queer about Sounding Sea.'
'What is it?' George asked, interested at once.
'About the same time every night he sneaks past our hut—his own is almost opposite—towards the back of the pah. I followed him last night, and he climbed the fence and dropped down on the narrow ledge between the palisades and the edge of the precipice.'
'Go on,' urged George.
'I was close behind him; yet, when I looked over, he had disappeared. The ledge runs about fifteen feet on each side of the point where he scaled the fence, which touches the edge of the cliff at the angles. So, as he could not have gone round, he must have gone over.'
'And what are you going to do?'
'We will both follow him to-night after his visit.'
Under pretence that he had been detailed by Te Karearea to see to their comfort, Sounding Sea came to their hut at bed-time every night. This night was no exception, for his sly face peered round the door, and he inquired, humbly enough, if the Pakeha lords desired his services.
To throw him off his guard, George ordered him to bring a basket of food, as they proposed to go for an early ramble in the bush on the morrow. When the Maori returned with this, the friends were snoring on their mats; so he placed it in a corner and withdrew, satisfied.
Five minutes later Terence stole across to Sounding Sea's whare, and returned almost immediately. 'There,' he said, with a gleeful chuckle, and thrust a revolver and a handful of cartridges upon his astonished friend.
'Kapua Mangu's mantle must have fallen on you, you magician,' cried George, overjoyed. 'Where—how——?'
'It occurred to me that Sounding Sea, not being very courageous, would have made provision for defending himself in case of a row with us,' explained Terence; 'so I went to see. The fellow has a regular arsenal there. I have brought away three revolvers and any number of cartridges.' He hid one of them under his mat, along with a reserve of ammunition. Then, having loaded their weapons, the friends stole out on the track of the spy.
In a few minutes they stood upon the three-foot ledge outside the pah, where a pale, watery moon gave them light enough to see what they were about. And this was as well; for movement, at the best, was dangerous, and a slip might have been fatal.
'I thought as much,' exclaimed Terence, after poking about in the grass. 'This explains our gentleman's nocturnal trips, and I shouldn't wonder if we were on the track of Paeroa.'
Lying on their faces, peering into the awful depths of the cañon, they could see a strong flax ladder, securely fastened to a couple of stout pegs, driven into the ground between them. By means of a gentle tug they ascertained that the lower end of the ladder was free, and, before George could anticipate him, Terence swung himself over.
'I'll jerk three times when I reach the bottom,' he said. 'Steady the thing for me.'
Presently the signal came, and George joined his friend, who was standing upon a narrow ledge about fifty feet below. 'Here we are,' said Terence in greeting. 'This ledge runs in both directions. Ah, this is the way. Look.'
A tangle of creepers, recently disturbed, guided them, and they moved cautiously along the ledge, which sloped very gradually downwards, until they stood some twenty feet above the river, in full view of a fine waterfall. Thereafter was nothing but sheer cliff to the broken water below. Then while they looked about, puzzled, Terence suddenly dragged George down behind a shrub, and they saw a wondrous sight.
From out of the waterfall itself, right through the veil of falling water, came Sounding Sea, shaking himself like a dog after a plunge. He climbed upon the ledge, took a step or two upon the back track, and then, with a gesture of annoyance, turned again and walked out of sight through, or under, the fall.
'He has forgotten something,' said Terence. 'After him!'
Careless of risk, they passed the falling curtain and hurried on the track of Sounding Sea, who was moving slowly through a natural tunnel, the mouth of which gaped blackly at his pursuers. Had the Maori not lit a torch the comrades could have done nothing but await his return.
Suddenly Terence swung back an arm and barred George's advance, for the tunnel took a turn, widening into a cave. Peering round the angle, they saw Sounding Sea, his torch set down, searching for something he appeared to have dropped.
The tunnel took a turn, widening into a cave (page 194).
But there was something else. Something which brought George's teeth together with a click, and caused Terence to clench his fists.
Stretched upon a mat, his wrists and ankles bound, and further secured by a rope round his middle, which was attached to an iron bar let into the floor of the cave, lay Paeroa, while a few feet from him was Kawainga, much in the same case, save that her feet were free.
Even in that light it could be seen that the unhappy pair looked miserably weak and ill, though scraps of food and a bowl of water showed that starvation had not been added to their other tortures.
Terence felt the arm he held quivering in his grip. Indeed, George restrained himself with difficulty; for the sight of the poor sufferers set his blood aflame, and another black mark was added to the long tally against Te Karearea.
Just then Sounding Sea spoke. 'Where is my mere, O Paeroa? It was in my belt when I fed you.' He made a dive and drew a wooden mere from the folds of the scanty mat upon which Paeroa lay. 'Pig!' he vociferated. 'Would you steal my club? Were it not that Te Karearea ordered me to keep you alive, I would dash out your traitor's brains. As it is—take this!'
He raised his heavy, sharp-angled club, dwelling upon his aim for the downstroke, which would have smashed the shoulder-girdle and left the arm useless for all time, when with a low growl of rage George leaped across the intervening space and flung himself upon the cowardly ruffian.