ground.
But George, despite a swaggering and offensive manner, seems to have
been amicable enough. He rubbed noses with Hongi and Ruatara, and
shook hands with Marsden, who passed on unharmed to the Bay of
Islands. There, by Ruatara's good offices, he was enabled to preach
to the assembled natives on the Sunday after arrival, being Christmas
Day, from the text printed at the head of this chapter. The Maoris
heard him quietly. Koro Koro walked up and down among the rows of
listeners keeping order with his chief's staff. When the service
ended, the congregation danced a war dance as a mark of attention to
the strangers.

Marsden settled his missionaries at Rangihu, where for twelve axes he
bought two hundred acres of land from a young _rangatira_ named Turi.
The land was conveyed to the Church Missionary Society by a deed of
sale. As Turi could not write, Hongi made the ingenious suggestion
that his _moko_, or face-tattoo, should be copied on the deed. This
was done by a native artist. The document began as follows:

"Know all men to whom these presents shall come, That I, Ahoodee O
Gunna, King of Rangee Hoo, in the Island of New Zealand, have, in
consideration of twelve axes to me in hand now paid by the Rev. Samuel
Marsden, of Paramatta, in the territory of New South Wales, given,
granted, bargained and sold, and by this present instrument do give,
grant, bargain and sell," etc., etc.

The deed is not only the first New Zealand conveyance, but has an
interest beyond that. It is evidence that, at any rate in 1815, a
single Maori, a chief, but of inferior rank, could sell a piece of
land without the specific concurrence of his fellow-tribesmen, or of
the tribe's head chief. Five and forty years later a somewhat similar
sale plunged New Zealand into long years of war.

After this Marsden returned to Sydney. The _Active_ took back spars
and dressed flax to the value of L450. The flax was sold at L110 a
ton. Kauri timber brought half a crown a foot, and the duty charged on
it at the Sydney customs house was a shilling a foot. The day of Free
Trade there was not yet. One cloud was hanging over the mission when
Marsden sailed. Ruatara lay dying. He had been seized with a fever,
and the natives, believing him to be attacked by a devouring demon,
placed him under _tapu_, and kept food, medicine, and his white
friends from him. When Marsden, by threatening to bombard the village
obtained access to the sick man, it was too l