Chapter XLV.

Making Ready.

All was now excitement in Edgecombe. The little place was crowded beyond accommodation, as nearly all the settlers had sought the shelter of its citadel. Huru was camped about seven miles away with all his mob, and had built a strong pah. It now rested with the authorities when the troops should attack him, for, in Maori fashion, he was waiting for battle. He was not strong enough to take to the open yet awhile, but, if he could only hold his own a sufficient time, he reckoned upon being joined by plenty of other malcontents. He would fight us in the pah he now held, and if we beat him out, he would take to another in the bush, where he had accumulated provisions. By such tactics he hoped to prolong the struggle until the whole Island was in a blaze of war.

All the good citizens of Edgecombe were under arms, and being drilled. A gazette had been issued calling out the militia and volunteers, both in town and country, and Charley and Henry had been duly enrolled as full privates in the latter force. Ammunition had been served out, and everyone was eager to close with the disturbers of the district. The friendly natives under their separate chiefs looked on in silence. They knew what work lay before them, better than our men, and were not so eager for the fray. Besides they had plenty to eat and drink, and Huru was safe in his pah. Time enough for fighting when the actual day of battle arrived.

Everyone regarded Colonel Whitmore's advance into the bush as a mistake, but the end proved that the Colonel was right, and he returned to the town in triumph. The spirits of our amateur soldiery rose, and all clamoured to be led against Huru. But the Colonel watched the face of Ihaka, the principal chief of the friendly natives, and waited. Time enough to give battle when our allies were ready. The Maori is a strange creature. Sometimes he is ready to fight, sometimes he is not. When he is ready, take him at his word; but if he is not, if the dream has not been favorable, or some riduculous omen propitious, don't hurry him. When once his mind is fairly made up, no braver ally steps the ground than the dusky New Zealand native.

One morning the steamer from the South brought the Hamilton letters, and one from Mary Easthorpe to her cousins, telling them that Mrs. Easthorpe had been taken ill. "The doctors say it is typhoid fever," wrote Mary, in trouble, "and I don't know what to do. Try and come down, Charley, if you can, as Mamma is very ill. Dr. Manning has offered his services to the Government, and intends going to Edgecombe at once. He and Dr. Harvey have been attending her, but I hope he will not leave us yet." By which it will be seen that Philip considered it his duty, in spite of his lady-love and Mrs. Easthorpe's illness, to be near his two friends.

"Aunt, ill," cried Henry. "You had better go at once, Charley."

But Charley took the matter more quietly than his brother, and said he must consult Major Gordon, as he could not leave without the permission of his commanding officer. Besides, it would not look well to leave his fellow settlers, just on the eve of battle.

Major Gordon read Mary's letter, and gave Charley permission to go down by the next steamer. At the same time, the worthy Major stated "that every man was wanted in the place," but advised Charley to take his own course. Mr. Easthorpe being absent in England was a sufficient excuse for Charley to leave, and the Major promised to explain the reason of Charley's departure.

Here was a predicament. What would the people say to his going? It would look bad, but what what was to de done? Every hour was precious; but then at any moment Colonel Whitmore might order the attack. Charley determined not to leave. He sent a telegram to Philip, begging him to stay where he was for a few days, until he could get down to relieve him. There would be plenty of time for him to come up after Huru had been attacked. The war had only just began. "Do stay where you are," the message said, "I will come down immediately." page 16 Charley also wrote to Mrs, Goring, asking her assistance, and that good lady complied by sending her daughter Kate to help Mary. Katey Goring very gladly complied, only too anxious to assist any of Charley's friends.

The next day—Thursday—Colonel Whitmore resolved to attack the pah, and Charley and Henry fell into the ranks with beating hearts, glad that the matter was so soon to be brought to an issue. A couple of days' provisions were served out. The men, women, and children remaining in the town silently saw the column off, and about eleven o'clock that night our small force marched out of the place, accompanied by a detachment of naval volunteers from the men-of-war lying in the harbour. Our friendly native allies, and a strong company of the armed constabulary, had been sent off a little earlier to take up a proper position, so that Huru might not give us the slip unawares. The navy men mustered a hundred strong. Companies No. 1 and 2 of the militia consisted of about eighty men each. The two companies of country settlers mustered about 50 men each, and as it had become known that Huru had about twelve or fourteen large canoes hidden in the swamp, at the rear of his pah, the second company of armed constabulary had been started off just after the first detachment, to endeavour to get the canoes, and cut off the enemies' retreat, in case of the attack being successful. These canoes were large tiwais, and would hold from twenty to sixty men each. They were duly secured, and an attempt was made to bring them into Edgecombe, but it failed, and they were cast adrift. Some went over the bar of the little river into the sea; the rest were stranded on the mud flats.

The men-of-war sent a party ashore to guard the town, and Major Gordon was left in charge of the place. Charley's last remembrance was the tearful face of Major Gordon's daughter, Lizzy, bidding him adieu. Poor Miss Lizzy never had such a sinking at her heart before in all her remembrance of Maori troubles, and Charley Easthorpe is to be excused if he needlessly pressed her hand when saying good-bye. When Lizzy Gordon sought her bed that night, what a heart-felt prayer did she send to heaven for the safety of the man who could never be anything to her but a name.