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