marketplace at Rome, he had found a people who must be brought into the
fold of Christ. Years were indeed to pass before active steps could be
taken, but the new-born project never died within him. Amidst all the
difficulties of his lot the thought of the New Zealanders was ever in
his mind, and their evangelisation the constant subject of his prayers.
Many years afterwards, on one of his journeys through their country,
Marsden remarked to those about him, "Te Pahi just planted the acorn,
but died before the sturdy oak appeared above the surface of the
ground."

What this Maori pioneer had done may seem little enough, but that little
cost him his life. The presents which he carried home, and the house
built for him by Governor King upon his island, excited the envy of his
neighbours, who eventually found a way to compass his destruction by
means of the Europeans themselves. Te Pahi happened to be at Whangaroa
when the _Boyd_ was captured in 1809, and he did his best to save some
of the crew from the terrible slaughter that followed. But his presence
at the scene was enough to give a handle to his enemies. They accused
him to the whalers of participation in the outrage, and these stormed
the island _pa_ by night and slaughtered the unsuspecting inhabitants.
Te Pahi himself escaped with a wound, but he was soon afterwards killed
by the real authors of the _Boyd_ massacre for his known sympathy with
the Europeans.

It is a piteous story, and one that reflects only too faithfully the
temper of the times. Hardly less piteous is the history of his young
kinsman, Ruatara, the inheritor of his influence over the tribe. This
notable man, while still young, determined that he too would see the
world, and in the year 1805 engaged himself as a common sailor on board
a whaling vessel. The roving life suited his adventurous temperament,
and in spite of many hardships and much foul play he served in one ship
after another. His duties carried him more than once to Port Jackson,
where he, too, met Samuel Marsden and talked about the projected mission
to his race. After many vicissitudes he at length nearly attained the
object of his desire, for his ship reached the Thames and cast anchor
below London Bridge. Now he would see the king, and would learn the
secret of England's power.

But the London of those days was a cruel place. There were no kindly
chaplains, no sailors' institutes nor waterside missions for the care of
those who th