rticular direction. The
whole tribe of natives had followed our drift along the shore, shouting
and gesticulating, and some were launching a large canoe, evidently
bent on saving the _hat_, on which all eyes were turned. As for the
pakeha, it appears they must have thought it an insult to his
understanding to suppose he could be drowned anywhere in sight of land.
"'Did he not come from the sea?' Was he not a fish? Was not the sea
solid land to him? Did not his fire burn on the ocean? Had he not slept
on the crests of the waves?" All this I heard afterwards; but at the
time, had I not been as much at home in the water as anything not
amphibious could be, I should have been very little better than a gone
pakeha. Here was a pretty wind up! I was going to "astonish the
natives," was I?--with my black hat and my _koti roa_?

But the villain is within a yard of me--the rascally cause of all my
grief. The furies take possession of me! I dart upon him like a hungry
shark! I have him! I have him under! Down, villain! down to the kraken
and the whale, to the Taniwha cave!--down! down! down! As we sank I
heard one grand roar of wild laughter from the shore: the word _utu_ I
heard roared by many voices, but did not then know its import. The
pakeha was drowning the Maori for _utu_ for himself, in _case_ he
should be drowned. No matter: if the Maori can't hold his own, it's
fair play; and then, if the pakeha really does drown the Maori, has he
not lots of _taonga_ to be robbed of?--No, not exactly to be robbed of,
either; let us not use unnecessarily bad language--we will say to be
distrained upon.

Crack! What do I hear? Down in the deep I felt a shock, and actually
heard a sudden noise. Is it the "crack of doom?" No, it is my
frock-coat gone at one split "from clue to earing"--split down the
back. Oh, if my pistols would go off, a fiery and watery death shouldst
thou die, Caliban. Egad! they have gone off--they are both gone to the
bottom! My boots are getting heavy! Humane Society, ahoy! where is your
boat-hook?--where is your bellows? Humane Society, ahoy! We are now
drifting fast by a sandy point, after which there will be no chance of
landing,--the tide will take us right out to sea. My friend is very
hard to drown--I must finish him some other time. We both swim for the
point, and land.

And this is how I got ashore on Maori land.

CHAPTER III.

A Wrestling Match.--Beef against Melons.--The Victor gains a