cut off, Mas' Don," said Jem, grinning till his eyes
were shut; "and you and me 'll be painted like he is in fast colours,
and you shall be a chief, and I'll be your head man."

"To be sure," said the Englishman; "and you shall have a wife."

"Eh?" cried Jem fiercely; "that I just won't. And, Mas' Don, if we ever
do get back, don't you never say a word to my Sally about this here."

"No, Jem, not I."

"But you'll leave the ship, mate?"

"Well, I dunno," said Jem, thoughtfully. "Will that there pattern all
over your face and chest wash off?"

"Wash off? No."

"Not with pearl-ash or soda?"

"No, not unless you skinned me," said the man, laughing.

"Well, that part arn't tempting, is it, Mas' Don?"

Don shook his head.

"And then about that other part, old chap--cannibalism? I say, that's
gammon, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why, you know--the cooking a fellow and eating him. How dull you are!"

"Dull? You be here a few years among these people, talking their lingo,
and not seeing an Englishman above once in two years, and see if you
wouldn't be dull."

"But is that true?"

"About being cannibals? Yes it's true enough," said the man seriously;
"and very horrid it is; but it's only when there's war."

He had succeeded in striking a light now, and was smoking placidly
enough on the boat's edge, but dreamily thoughtful, as if he were
recalling matters that were past.

"Has he ever--been at war?" said Don, altering the fashion of his
inquiry when it was half uttered.

"Often."

"And--? You know," said Jem, who felt no delicacy about the matter.

The Englishman nodded his head slowly, and sent forth a tremendous puff
of smoke, while his companion moved toward Don, and smiled at him,
tapping him on the shoulder with his hand, and seeming to nod approval.

"Pakeha!" he said, excitedly; "my pakeha; Maori pakeha."

"What does he mean by that?" said Don, after he had suffered these
attentions patiently for a few minutes.

"Means he wants you to be his pakeha."

"Yes: my pakeha; Maori pakeha!" cried the chief eagerly.

"But what is a pakeha?"

"Why, you're a pakeha, I'm a pakeha. They call foreigners pakehas; and
he wants to claim you as his."

"What, his slave?" cried Don.

"No, no; he means his foreign brother. If you become his pakeha, he
will be bound to fight for you. Eh, Ngati?"

The savage gave vent to a fierce shout, and went through his former
performance, but with mor