the circumstances;
I being supposed to be entranced by the one absorbing thought of seeing
"mataora," or once more in life my _rangatira_.

The crowd divided as I came up, and closed again behind me as I stood
in the front rank before the old chief, motionless; and, as in duty
bound, trying to look the image of mute despair: which I flatter myself
I did, to the satisfaction of all parties. The old man I saw at once
was at his last hour. He had dwindled to a mere skeleton. No food of
any kind had been prepared for or offered to him for three days: as he
was dying it was of course considered unnecessary. At his right side
lay his spear, tomahawk, and musket. (I never saw him with the musket
in his hand all the time I knew him.) Over him was hanging his
greenstone _mere_, and at his left side, close, and touching him, sat a
stout, athletic savage, with a countenance disgustingly expressive of
cunning and ferocity; and who, as he stealthily marked me from the
corner of his eye, I recognized as one of those limbs of Satan, a Maori
_tohunga_. The old man was propped up in a reclining position, his face
towards the assembled tribe, who were all there waiting to catch his
last words. I stood before him and I thought I perceived he recognized
me. Still all was silence, and for a full half hour we all stood there,
waiting patiently for the closing scene. Once or twice the _tohunga_
said to him in a very loud voice, "The tribe are assembled, you won't
die silent?"

At last, after about half an hour, he became restless, his eyes rolled
from side to side, and he tried to speak; but failed. The circle of men
closed nearer, and there was evidence of anxiety and expectation
amongst them; but a dead silence was maintained. Then suddenly, without
any apparent effort, and in a manner which startled me, the old man
spoke clearly out, in the ringing metallic tone of voice for which he
had been formerly so remarkable, particularly when excited. He spoke.
"Hide my bones quickly where the enemy may not find them: hide them at
once." He spoke again--"Oh my tribe, be brave! be brave that you may
live. Listen to the words of my pakeha; he will unfold the designs of
his tribe." This was in allusion to a very general belief amongst the
natives at the time, that the Europeans designed sooner or later to
exterminate them and take the country; a thing the old fellow had
cross-questioned me about a thousand times: and the only way I could
find to ea