Tomati soon showed the reason for his elevation to the position of chief
among the Maoris, for, in addition to being a man of commanding presence
and great strength, his adventurous life had given him quickness and
decision in his actions, which told with a savage race none too ready to
discriminate.
He rushed out of the _pah_, and caught the man by the shoulder,
questioned him, turned him over to a couple of his friends to be
doctored, and then in a loud voice informed the excited crowd that the
danger was not imminent, following up this announcement with orders to
go on strengthening the stockade.
He was instantly obeyed, his cool manner giving his followers
confidence; and they went on working hard at securing certain spots and
strengthening the entrance, but always with their spears close at hand.
There was another shout from a sentry, and again the whole tribe was
electrified, women and children huddling under shelter, and the warriors
seizing their weapons.
This time a scout came running in uninjured and with his spear to
announce the nearer approach of the enemy.
Tomati received his news coolly enough, and then, after a word or two
with Ngati, signed to the man to join the defenders, while two fresh
scouts were sent out to spy the neighbourhood, and keep the chiefs well
informed of the coming danger.
Ngati's eyes seemed to flash, and there was a savage rigidity in his
countenance that suggested hard times for the man who attacked him; but
he seemed to place the most implicit confidence in Tomati, obeying his
slightest suggestion, and evidently settling himself into the place of
lieutenant to the white captain.
After the first wailing and tears, the women and children settled down
in their shelter quite as a matter of course, and as if such an event as
this were no novelty in their social history. Once within the _pah_,
and surrounded by stout fighting men on whom they could depend, they
seemed quite satisfied, and full of confidence in the result of an
attack, and this took Jem's notice.
"Can't be much danger," he said, half contemptuously, "or these here
wouldn't take it so coolly."
"But it looks as if there was going to be a desperate fight."
"Tchah! Not that, Mas' Don."
"But look at that scout who ran in. He was hurt."
"So is a boy who has had his head punched, and whose nose bleeds. There
won't be no real fighting, my lad. I mean men being killed, and that
sort o' thing."
"Think not, Jem?"
"Sure of it, my lad. T'other side 'll come up and dance a war-dance,
and shake their spears at our lot. Then our lot 'll dance up and down
like jack-jumpers, and make faces, and put out their tongues at 'em, and
call 'em names. I know their ways; and then they'll all yell out, and
shout; and then the others 'll dance another war-dance, and shout in Noo
Zealandee that they'll kill and eat us all, and our lot'll say they'd
like to see 'em do it, and that'll be all."
Don shook his head. The preparations looked too genuine.
"Ah, you'll see," continued Jem. "Then one lot 'll laugh, and say
you're obliged to go, and t'other lot 'll come back again, and they'll
call one another more names, and finish off with killing pigs, and
eating till they can't eat no more."
"You seem to know all about it, Jem."
"Well, anybody could know as much as that," said Jem, going to the side
and taking up a bundle formed with one of the native blankets, which he
began to undo.
"What have you got there?"
"You just wait a minute," said Jem, with a dry look. "There! Didn't
know that was the arm chest, did you?"
He unrolled and took out a cutlass and two pistols, with the ammunition,
and looked up smilingly at Don.
"There!" he said, "what do you think o' them?"
"I'd forgotten all about them, Jem."
"I hadn't, my lad. There you are. Buckle on that cutlash."
"No; you had better have that, Jem. I should never use it."
"Oh, yes, you would, my lad, if it was wanted. On with it."
Don reluctantly buckled on the weapon, and Jem solemnly charged the
pistols, giving Don one, and taking the other to stick in his own
waistbelt.
"There," he said, retaking the spear given to him. "Don't you feel like
fighting now?"
"No, Jem; not a bit."
"You don't?"
"No. Do you?"
"Well, if you put it in that way," said Jem, rubbing his ear, "I can't
say as I do. You can't feel to want to do much in that way till some
one hurts you. Then it's different."
"It's horrible, Jem!"
"Well, I suppose it is; but don't you get looking like that. There'll
be no fighting here. I say, Mas' Don, it would be a bit of a game,
though, to stick the pynte of this here spear a little way into one of
the savages. Wonder what he'd say."
"Ah! My pakeha!" cried a voice just behind them; and they turned
sharply, to find themselves face to face with Ngati, who patted Don on
the shoulder, and then pointed to his cutlass and pistol.
"Hah!" he ejaculated, with a deep breath; and then, without warning,
snatched Don's spear from his hand, threw himself into a series of wild
attitudes, and went through the action of one engaged in an encounter
with an enemy, stabbing, parrying, dodging, and darting here and there
in a way that suggested instant immolation for the unfortunate he
encountered.
"Look at him, Mas' Don," whispered Jem. "Look at him pretending.
That's the way they fight. By-an'-by, you'll see lots o' that, but you
mark my words, none on 'em won't go nigh enough to hurt one another."
Ngati ceased as suddenly as he had begun, returned the spear to Don, and
seemed to intimate that he should go through the same performance.
"You wait a bit, old chap!" cried Jem. "We don't fight that way."
"Hah!" ejaculated Ngati, and he ran across to a portion of the _pah_
where several of his warriors were busily binding some of the posts more
securely.
"It do make me laugh," said Jem; "but I s'pose all that bouncing helps
'em. Poor things. Mas' Don, you and I ought to be werry thankful as we
was born in Bristol, and that Bristol's in old England. Say, shall you
give any one a chop if it does come to a fight?"
Don shook his head.
Jem laughed.
"If it warn't for wasting the powder, I tell you what we'd do. Get up
a-top yonder where we could lean over the palings, wait till the other
chaps comes up, and then shoot over their heads with the pistols.
That'd make some of 'em run."
There was another shout here, for two of the scouts came running in, and
every man seized his spear, and darted to the spot he was expected to
defend.
"Why, Mas' Don, how they can run! Look at 'em. An Englishman wouldn't
run like that from a dozen men. Here, let's chuck these spears away.
We sha'n't want 'em. An Englishman as has got fists don't want no
spears. Look! Look!"
The two scouts had come running in very swiftly till they were about a
hundred yards from the gateway of the _pah_, when they stopped short and
faced about as two of the enemy, who were in chase, dashed at them,
spear in hand.
Then, to Jem's astonishment, a sharp passage of arms occurred; the
spears clashed together, there was a wonderful display of thrusting and
parrying, and the two enemies fell back, and the scouts continued their
retreat to the shelter of the fort.
"What do you think of that, Jem?" said Don excitedly. "That was real
fighting."
"Real?" cried Jem; "it was wonderful!" and he spoke huskily. "Why, both
those chaps was wounded, and these here's got it, too."
The two scouts were both gashed about the arms by their enemies' spears,
but they came bravely in, without making any display, and were received
by cheers, Tomati going up to each in turn, and gripping his hand.
Just then the Englishman caught sight of his compatriots, and came
across to them quickly.
"Hullo!" he said, with a grim smile, "cleared for action, and guns run
out?"
"Yes, we're ready," said Jem.
"Going to fight on our side?"
"Well, I don't know," said Jem, in a dubious kind of way. "Fighting
arn't much in my line."
"Not in yours neither, youngster. There, I daresay we shall soon beat
them off. You two keep under shelter, and if things go against us, you
both get away, and make for the mountain. Go right into that cave, and
wait till I join you."
"But there will not be much fighting, will there--I mean real fighting?"
said Jem.
"I don't know what you mean by real fighting, squire; but I suppose we
shall keep on till half of us on both sides are killed and wounded."
"So bad as that?"
"P'r'aps worse," said the man grimly. "Here, shake hands young un, in
case we don't have another chance. If you have to run for it, keep
along the east coast for about a hundred miles; there's white men
settled down yonder. Good-bye."
Tomati shook hands heartily, and went off to his righting men, who were
excitedly watching the level below the _pah_, to which part it was
expected the enemy would first come.
Don joined them, eager to see how matters were going, and hopeful still,
in spite of Tomati's words, that matters would not assume so serious an
aspect; but just then a hand was laid upon his arm.
"I was out of it, Mas' Don," whispered Jem. "They do bounce a deal.
But there's going to be real fighting on. One of those poor fellows who
came running in, and stood up as if nothing was wrong, is dead."
"Dead?"
"Yes, my lad. Spear went right through his chest. Hark at 'em!"
There was a low wailing noise from the corner of the _pah_, where the
two men were sheltered, and Don felt a chill of horror run through him.
"Then it is going to be quite a savage battle, Jem?"
"'Fraid so, my lad--no, I don't mean 'fraid--think so. Now, look here,
Mas' Don, it won't be long first, so you'd better go and lie down behind
them high palings, where you'll be safe."
"And what are you going to do?"
"Stop here and see what there is to see."
"But you may be hurt."
"Well, Mas' Don," said Jem bitterly; "it don't much matter if I am. Run
along, my lad."
"I'm going to stop with you, Jem."
"And suppose you're hurt; what am I to say to your mother? Why, she'd
never forgive me."
"Nor me either, Jem, if I were to go and hide, while you stood out
here."
"But it's going to be real dangerous, Mas' Don."
"It will be just as dangerous for you, Jem. What should I say to your
wife if you were hurt?"
"Don't know, Mas' Don," said Jem sadly. "I don't think she'd mind a
deal."
"You don't mean it, Jem!" cried Don sharply. "Now, are you coming into
shelter?"
"No," said Jem, with a peculiarly hard, stern look in his face. "I'm
going to fight."
"Then I shall stay too, Jem."
"Won't you feel frightened, Mas' Don?"
"Yes, I suppose so. It seems very horrible."
"Yes, so it is, but it's them others as makes it horrible. I'm going to
give one on 'em something for spearing that poor chap. Look out, Mas'
Don; here they come!"
There was a fierce shout of defiance as the scouts came running in now
as hard as they could, followed by a body of about two hundred naked
warriors, whose bronzed bodies glistened in the sunshine. They came on
in a regular body, running swiftly, and not keeping step, but with
wonderful regularity, till they were about fifty yards from the _pah_,
when, after opening out into a solid oblong mass to show a broader
front, they stopped suddenly as one man, dropped into a half-kneeling
position, and remained perfectly motionless, every savage with his head
bent round, as if he were looking over his left shoulder, and then
turning his eyes to the ground, and holding his weapon diagonally across
his body.
The whole business was as correctly gone through as if it was a
manoeuvre of some well-drilled European regiment, and then there was an
utter silence for a few minutes.
Not a sound arose from either side; enemies and friends resembled
statues, and it was as if the earth had some great attraction for them,
for every eye looked down instead of at a foe. Don's heart beat
heavily. As the band of heavy warriors came on, the air seemed to
throb, and the earth resound. It was exciting enough then; but this
was, in its utter stillness, horribly intense, and with breathless
interest the two adventurers scanned the fierce-looking band.