elves anxious enough to be
hospitable and welcoming. They are eager to know who we are, naturally,
what we are going to do, and so forth. When it comes out that we have
advented to join Old Colonial, we are admitted as chums at once, and
formally accepted as free citizens of the soon-to-be prosperous and
thriving town of Te Pahi.

By-and-by the Mayor gets back; and the _Lily_ steams off again on her
way to Matakohe, where she will anchor for the night, returning to
Helensville next day. Old Colonial, it seems, is away up the river
somewhere, but is expected at the township that night, as he knows that
the steamer is due, and that we were likely to come by it.

And now what are we to do? Go to the immigrant barracks, we suppose,
since they are expressly designed for the accommodation of such
new-chums as ourselves. Barracks be hanged! Is it likely that we are to
be allowed to go there while the Mayor has a comfortable house in which
to receive guests? Not likely! Why, others of the citizens are intent on
hospitality as well, and any of the four homes of the place may be ours
for the present, if we will.

But the Mayor is not going to be choused out of his guests; don't you
believe it! What is he Mayor and boss of the township for, he would like
to know, if not to look after new-chums? Besides, on his own sole
responsibility, he has turned the immigrant barracks into a warehouse
for produce, since no immigrants ever seemed to be coming to occupy
them. So, he is in a measure bound to take possession of us, don't you
see? and, by Jove, he means to, what's more!

Then we walk along to the Mayor's residence, and a comfortable,
well-furnished house it is, quite a surprise to us, who hardly expected
home-comforts in the bush. But then the Mayor is a thriving man, and has
a wife to look after him.

A cheerful, amiable lady bids us welcome, with a heartiness as though
she were only too glad to see us, although it would appear as if her
hands were full enough of housework already, without the additional care
of looking after a couple of helpless, unready new-chums. But strangers
are so rare up here, that much must be made of them when they do come;
therefore, the fatted calf is killed, so to speak, and we are regaled in
handsome fashion.

Later, after supper, there is a sudden arrival in the darkness of the
night. We hear a stamping on the verandah outside, and a loud, lusty,
half-remembered voice addressing the Mayor.

"