, and he
smiled and looked relieved, for the proceedings during the last
half-hour had puzzled him.

Don took the great fellow's arm, feeling that in the Maori chief he had
a true friend, and in this way they followed Mike Bannock round one of
the shoulders of the mountain, towards where a jet of steam rose with a
shrieking noise high up into the air.

CHAPTER FIFTY.

HOW TO ESCAPE?

It was in quite a little natural fortress that Mike stopped, the way
being in and out through a narrow rift that must have been the result of
some earthquake, and when this was passed they were in a sheltered nook,
at one side of which the face of a precipice hung right over, affording
ample protection from the wind and rain. Through quite a cranny a
stream of perfectly clear water trickled, and on the other side was a
small deep pool, slowly welling over at one side, the steam rising
therefrom telling that it was in some way connected with the noisy jet
which rose outside.

"There, young Don Lavington, that's where we lives, my lad, and you've
got to stay with us. If you behave well, you shall have plenty to eat
and drink. If you don't, mind one o' my mates don't bring you down as
he would a bird."

Don glanced round wonderingly, and tried to grasp why it was that Mike
Bannock was there, the only surmise upon which he could take hold being
the right one--Jem's: that Mike was a transported man who had taken to
the bush.

He had just come to this conclusion when Jem turned to him.

"Shall I ask him that, Mas' Don?"

"Ask him what?"

"What I think. Depend upon it he was sent out to Botany Bay, and run
off to this country."

"No, no, Jem; don't ask."

"He can't have come out here honest, Mas' Don. Look at him, there arn't
a honest hair in his head."

"But we don't want to offend him, Jem."

"Don't we? Tell you what we do want, Mas' Don; we want to get hold o'
them old rusty muskets and the powder and shot, and then we could make
them sing small. Eh? What say?"

This was in answer to something said in a low voice by Ngati, who looked
from one to the other inquiringly.

Ngati spoke again, and then struck his fist into his hand with a look of
rage and despair.

"Yes, I feel the same," said Don, laying his hand upon the great
fellow's arm. "I'd give anything to be able to understand what you say,
Ngati."

The chief smiled, as if he quite comprehended; and grasped Don's hand
with a friendly grip, offering the