mor that seemed
to run through them all; but the next instant they had drawn themselves
up stern and defiant, ready to meet their fate at the seaman's knife.

"No, no. No, pakeha. No kill," said a deep angry voice; and as every
one turned, Ngati stalked forward as if to defend his enemies.

But at the same moment the man had cut the first Maori's bands, and then
went on behind the rank, cutting the line that bound seven, who stood
staring wildly.

The next minute a seaman came along bearing a sheaf of spears, which he
handed, one by one, to the astonished savages, while their wonder
reached its height, as the master's mate presented to each a knife, such
as were brought for presents to the natives.

"Now," said the officer, addressing them, "I don't understand you, and I
don't suppose you understand my words; but you do my deeds. Then, in
the king's name, you are free; and if you ever take any English
prisoners, I hope you will behave as well to them as we have behaved to
you. There, go."

He finished by pointing away to the north; but instead of going they
stood staring till Ngati came forward, and said a few words in their own
tongue.

The effect was electric; they all shouted, brandished their spears,
danced wildly, and ended by throwing down their weapons before the
officer, seizing him by the arms, and rubbing noses with him.

He submitted laughingly till the Maoris picked up their spears, and
stood looking on, apparently quite satisfied that they were safe.

"Here, hi, Jack!" cried a hoarse brutal voice. "Look sharp, we want to
get rid of these cords; where's your knife?"

"Wait a little while, my friends," said the officer sarcastically; "as
soon as we get to the ship, you shall have them changed for irons."

"Whorrt!" cried Mike.

"We were out in search of three convicts who murdered a couple of the
guard, and escaped from Norfolk Island in a boat. I have fallen upon
you by accident, and I have you safe."

"Norfolk Island! Where's Norfolk Island, mate?" said Mike coolly.

"Never heard o' no such place," said his vilest-looking companion,
gruffly.

"Memory's short, perhaps," said the officer.

"But convicts; we're not convicts," growled Mike.

"Gentlemen, p'r'aps, on your travels?"

"Yes, that's it," said Mike with effrontery.

"Ah! Well then, I shall have to take you on beard His Majesty's ship
_Vixen_, where you will probably be hung at the yard-arm for inciting
the ignorant Maori