rdon and his neighbours with Don and Jem standing close by;
for in spite of Jem's reiterated appeals, his companion refused to take
to the bush.

"No, Jem," Don said stubbornly; "it would be cowardly, and we're cowards
enough."

"But s'pose they find us out? That there officer's sure to smell as
we're salts."

"Smell? Nonsense!"

"He will, Mas' Don. I'm that soaked with Stockholm tar that I can smell
myself like a tub."

"Nonsense!"

"But if they find out as we deserted, they'll hang us."

"I don't believe it, Jem."

"Well, you'll see, Mas' Don; so if they hang you, don't you blame me."

"Well, Mr Gordon, we must be off," said the officer. "Thank you once
more for all your hospitality."

"God bless you, sir, and all your men, for saving our lives," said the
settler warmly; and there was a chorus of thanks from the other settlers
and their wives.

"Nonsense, my dear sir; only our duty!" said the officer heartily. "And
now about our prisoners. I don't know what to do about the Maoris. I
don't want to shoot them, and I certainly don't want to march them with
us down to where the ship lies. What would you do, Mr Gordon?"

"I should give them a knife apiece, shake hands with them, and let them
go."

"What, to come back with the said knives, and kill you all when we're
gone!"

"They will not come back if you take away the scoundrels who led them
on," said Don sharply.

"How do you know?" said the officer good-humouredly.

"Because," said Don, colouring, "I have been living a good deal with
them, both with a friendly tribe and as a prisoner."

"And they did not eat you?" said the officer laughing.

"There, Mas' Don," whispered Jem, "hear that?"

"I think you are right, youngster," continued the officer, "and I shall
do so. Mr Dillon, bring up the prisoners."

This was to a master's mate, who led off a guard, and returned with the
captives bound hands behind, and the Maoris looking sullen and haughty,
while the three whites appeared at their very worst--a trio of the most
vile, unkempt scoundrels possible to see.

They were led to the front, scowling at every one in turn, and halted in
front of the officer, who, after whispering to the master's mate, gave
orders to one of the seamen. This man pulled out his great jack knife,
opened it, and being a bit of a joker, advanced toward the Maoris,
grinding his teeth and rolling his eyes.

The savages saw his every act, and there was a slight tre