ly feeding its way along the
mountain slope.

"Moa! Moa!" he whispered, as he returned. "Jemmeree moa; my pakeha
moa."

"He wants us to imitate great birds, too, Jem," said Don, eagerly. "Can
you do that?"

"Can I do it?" said Jem. "O' course; you shall see."

Ngati seemed delighted that his plan was understood, and he rapidly
fashioned rough balls to resemble birds' heads for his companions'
spears, and made them turn up their trousers above the knee, when, but
for their white appearance, they both looked bird-like. But this
difficulty was got over by Ngati, who took it as a matter of course that
they would not object, and rapidly smeared their hands, legs, and faces
with the slimy mud from the volcanic pool.

"Well, of all the nasty smells!" whispered Jem. "Oh, Mas' Don, are you
going to stand this? He has filled my eyes with mud."

"Hush, Jem!" whispered Don.

"But shall we come across any hot baths by-and-by?"

"Silence, Jem!"

"All right, Mas' Don, you're master, but this is--oh, bad eggs!"

Ngati held up his hand for silence, and then whispering the word "Moa"
again, he imitated the movements of a gigantic bird, signing to them to
do likewise.

Don obeyed, and in spite of the peril they were in, could hardly help
laughing, especially when Jem kept up an incessant growling, like that
of some angry animal.

Ngati was evidently satisfied, for he paused, and then pointing forward,
strode slowly through the low bushes, with Don and Jem following and
imitating his movements as nearly as they could.

As they walked on they could hear the murmur of voices, and this sound
increased as Ngati went slowly forward, bearing off to the left.

It seemed to Don that they were going straight into danger, and his
heart beat with excitement as the talking suddenly stopped, and there
was a rustling sound, as if several men had sprung to their feet.

But Ngati did not swerve from his course, going slowly on, and raising
the spear from time to time, while a low excited whispering went on.

"What will they do?" thought Don; "try to spear us, or surround and
seize us?"

The Maoris did neither. Ngati knew the dread his fellow-countrymen
possessed for anything approaching the supernatural, and in the belief
that they would be startled at the sight of the huge birds known only to
them by tradition, he had boldly adopted the disguise--one possible only
in the darkness; and so far his plan was successful.

To ha