ed chiefs from
the Thames district followed Marsden at a short interval to Australia,
and stayed with him in his parsonage at Parramatta. Among these was
Hinaki of Mokoia, who wished to continue his journey to England. They
were still in the house when, in the following May, Hongi and Kendall
arrived on their return journey. It was the month of the death of the
great Napoleon at St. Helena, and it would almost seem as though a
portion of his spirit had passed into the Maori chief on his passage
through the Atlantic. At any rate Hongi began now to disclose his
purposes: "Do not go to England," he said to Hinaki at Marsden's table;
"you will surely be ill there. Better go home and see to your defences.
I shall come to visit you before long." All the presents which the great
people in England had showered upon him (excepting, of course, the suit
of armour) he now bartered for muskets and powder. A legend of his race
told how when the Maoris came from Hawaiki they were followed by an
invisible canoe in which sat the figure of Death. With more reason might
that grim form have been supposed to lurk now in the hold of the ship in
which Hongi and Hinaki sailed together to their native land.

They arrived there in the July of 1821, and the missionaries of Kerikeri
soon realised that they had a different Hongi to deal with. For a time
he held aloof from them, and when he did speak he showed great reserve.
Some allowance must of course be made for the inevitable disillusionment
of such a return. After the palaces of the bishops by whom he had been
entertained in England, the mission stations must have appeared even
startlingly humble. But the real grievance was the cessation of the
trade in firearms. The King had approved of this trade: why should the
missionaries object? Kendall in his new clerical attire seemed quite
willing to play the part of court-chaplain to the would-be king. "I
would as soon," he said, "trade with a musket as with a dollar."

The effects of the change were seen immediately. The Maoris grew
insolent, broke down the settlers' fences, and stole whatever they could
lay their hands on. This was, however, as nothing to that which
followed. Hongi and Hinaki had become reconciled on the ship, but a new
act of aggression soon called for reprisals, and at the head of an
immense naval armament Hongi set out for the waters of the Waitemata.
Clad in his helmet and coat of mail, he declaimed his wrongs before his
enemy