the father-in-law of Ripahau, was chief.
To Waikanae accordingly he steered his boat. Still wet with the salt
spray of the strait, and faint from long exertion, he pleaded with such
power and pathos that he almost won over these tribesmen to his daring
project. The situation was a critical one. Not a moment was to be lost.
Hadfield ordered the bell to be rung for Evensong; the assembly thronged
in to prayers; and for the time the excitement calmed down.

But the danger was not over. All through the long winter night,
Rauparaha was busy in trying to induce Wiremu Kingi to join him. He
proposed to attack Wellington and destroy every man, woman, and child.
"Let us destroy the reptile while we have the power to do so," he
argued, "or it will destroy us. We have begun: let us make an end of
them." Kingi was firm, and declared that it was his intention to live at
peace with the pakeha. When daylight came, Rauparaha made one more
effort: "At least remain neutral," he pleaded. "I will oppose you with
my whole force," said Kingi, and the disappointed warrior steered his
canoes northwards.

Even now he did not give up his scheme. Forming his camp on an islet in
the Otaki River, and taking up a bold attitude, he endeavoured to secure
the assistance of the Ngatiraukawa tribesmen. But Hadfield had followed
him along the coast, and now brought his great influence to bear on the
natives as they were gathered on the river bank. Rauparaha's passionate
eloquence failed of its effect, and he saw that the game was lost. With
that rapid decision for which he was renowned, this Maori Napoleon now
seized what seemed his one remaining chance of safety: he crept
submissively to Hadfield, and applied to be received as a candidate for
baptism. Somewhat to the amazement of his white friends, Hadfield
accepted him as a catechumen, and the two men actually became fast
friends.

Thus was white New Zealand saved by Waikanae Christianity; and Waikanae
Christianity was due, under GOD, to an invalided Oxford undergraduate, a
Maori slave, and a little girl with her Gospel of St. Luke!

But what of Rauparaha's son, Tamihana, the man without whom Hadfield
would not have come to the district, nor Ripahau been converted, nor
Tarore's gospel brought into use? This zealous man was engaged at the
moment on an enterprise very different from that which his father had
contemplated. Four years before, he and his cousin had gone to the
extreme north to find a te