ed Jem.

Ngati took it as a compliment, and smiled. Then, pointing to a cluster
of rocks where a jet of steam was being forced out violently, he led the
way there, when they had to pass over a tiny stream of hot water, and a
few yards farther on, they came to its source, a beautiful bright fount
of the loveliest sapphire blue, with an edge that looked like a marble
bath of a roseate tint, fringed every here and there with crystals of
sulphur.

"Let's have a bathe!" cried Jem eagerly. "Is there time?"

He stepped forward, and was about to plunge in his hand, when Ngati
seized his shoulders and dragged him back.

"What yer doing that for?" cried Jem.

The Maori stepped forward, and made as if to dip in one of his feet, but
snatched it back as if in pain. Then, smiling, he twisted some strands
of grass into a band, fastened the end to the palm basket, and gently
lowered it, full of eggs, into the sapphire depths, a jet of steam and a
series of bubbles rising to the surface as the basket sank.

"Why, Jem," said Don laughing, "you wanted to bathe in the big copper."

"How was I to know that this was a foreign out-door kitchen?" replied
Jem laughing.

"And the water's boiling hot," added Don. "You can see it bubbling just
at this end."

"Think o' that now!" said Jem. "I say, what a big fire there must be
somewhere down b'low. Strikes me, Mas' Don, that when I makes my
fortun' and buys an estate I sha'n't settle here."

"No, Jem. `There's no place like home.'"

"Well, home's where you settle, arn't it? But this won't do for me.
It's dangerous to be safe."

Meanwhile, Ngati was listening intently, but, save the hissing of steam,
the gurgling of boiling water, and the softened roar that seemed now
distant, now close at hand, there was nothing to be heard, so he signed
to them to sit down and rest.

He set the example, and Don followed, to lie upon his back, restfully
gazing up at the blue sky above, when Jem, who had been more particular
about the choice of a place, slowly sat down, remained stationary for a
few moments, and then sprang up, uttering a cry of pain.

"Why, that stone's red hot!" he cried.

This was not the truth, but it was quite hot enough to make it a painful
seat, and he chose another.

"Well, of all the rum places, Mas' Don!"

He said no more on the subject, for just then Ngati rose, and carefully
drew the bag of eggs from the boiling pool.

"And I called him a pig!" said Jem, se