The Friendly Forest.

“As I was racing over the short distance between my hut and the belt of bush, I received a skin wound; a bullet grazed my left arm, but I scarcely felt it. I plunged into the bush and made my way through it as fast as I could struggle. When I had gone four or five chains I met Trooper George Stephenson, of Opotiki.

“We kept together, and just at dark—it would then be about five o'clock—we got out of the bush, which was a belt of high trees and thick undergrowth about a mile in length and half a mile in width. Stephenson was fully dressed, but had no arms, not even a revolver, and I don&t think any of the others had had an opportunity to get their weapons. Our one impulse was to get into the cover of the bush.