amentation. This ended, they
resume their wonted cheerfulness, and enter into a detail of all that
has happened during their separation. As there were nine New Zealanders
just returned, and more than three times that number to commemorate the
event, the howl was quite tremendous, and so novel to almost every one
in the ship that it was with difficulty our people's attention could be
kept to matters at that moment more essential. Little Repero, who had
frequently boasted, during the passage, that he was too much of an
Englishman ever to cry again, made a strong effort when his father,
Shungie, approached him, to keep his word; but his early habit soon got
the better of his resolution, and he evinced, if possible, more
distress than any of the others."

The sudden thawing of poor Repero's heroic resolves was an incident
exactly similar to another which Mr. Nicholas had witnessed. Among the
New Zealanders who, after having resided for some time in New South
Wales, returned with him and Mr. Marsden to their native country, was
one named Tooi,[Q] who prided himself greatly on being able to imitate
European manners; and accordingly, declaring that he would not cry, but
would behave like an Englishman, began, as the trying moment approached,
to converse most manfully with Mr. Nicholas, evidently, however, forcing
his spirits the whole time. But "his fortitude," continues Nicholas,
"was very soon subdued; for being joined by a young chief about his own
age, and one of his best friends, he flew to his arms, and, bursting
into tears, indulged exactly the same emotions as the others."

Tooi was afterwards brought to England, and remained for some time in
this country. He was in attendance upon his brother Korro-korro, one of
the greatest chiefs in the neighbourhood of the Bay of Islands, and, as
well as Shungie, who has just been mentioned, celebrated all over the
country for his love of fighting, and the number of victories he had
won.

Yet even this hardy warrior was no more proof than any one of his wives
or children against this strange habit of emotion. The first person he
met on his landing happened to be his aunt, whose appearance, as, bent
to the earth with age and infirmities, she ascended a hill, supporting
herself upon a long staff, Nicholas compares to that which we might
conceive the Sibyl bore, when she presented herself to Tarquin. Yet,
when she came up to Korro-korro, the chief, we are told, having fallen
upon h