ter, and like him he had purposed to build a new town
in which he could carry out the ideas he had gained abroad. It was to
the site of this projected metropolis that he was now borne, and it was
there that, after death, his body was laid on a stage erected for the
purpose. To complete the tragedy the same stage received the remains of
his favourite wife, who hung herself out of grief at her loss.

In spite of this noble Maori's enlightened efforts for the civilisation
of his countrymen, his mind seems to have been not wholly without
misgiving as to the possible consequences of his policy. He could not
altogether throw off the suggestions of the reactionary party, that the
coming of the white man would eventually lead to the slavery and
dispossession of the Maori. Could he look down from his lofty eminence
now that a century has passed, what would be his thoughts? He would see
his countrymen still residing on their own lands, their children
carefully taught, their houses fitted with mechanical appliances which
would have surprised even Marsden himself. But, on the other hand, the
crowded _pas_ and the vigorous life have passed away. Instead of the
long canoe with its stalwart tatooed rowers, he would see perhaps a
small motor-boat with one half-caste engineer. As for his "town of
Rangihoo," he would see no trace of its existence. Maori dwellings,
mission-station--all are gone. Nothing now remains to show that man has
ever occupied the spot, save the rose-covered graves of one or two of
the original "settlers," and the lofty stone cross which marks the place
where Christ was first preached on New Zealand soil.

CHAPTER III.

THE RECEPTION.

(1815-1822).

He that soweth discord among brethren.
--_Proverbs._

The position of the missionaries when left alone at Rangihoua was not an
easy one. Ruatara was dead, and there was no one to fill his place. His
successor at Rangihoua, though friendly and genial, seems to have had
but little influence. Korokoro cared for nothing but war. The real ruler
was Ruatara's uncle, Hongi, who lived some miles away; and Hongi's
character had yet to disclose itself. His behaviour was quiet and
gentlemanly; he assured the missionaries of his protection, and he kept
his word.

This protection, however, was subject to limitations. The settlers were
naturally anxious to grow corn and vegetables, but the cold clay of Te
Puna[1] was not a favourable soil. At the very beginning