The Man with the Taiaha.

Then, a daring chief — his name deserves record. Paora Pahupahu—armed only with a taiaha, dashed furiously at the Kingites' line, and, regardless of shots, cut and thrust at them with such fierce lightning impetuosity that he cut a way through, followed by some of his men. This human wedge in the line broke the foe's stand; in a few moments the whole body turned and ran, seeking another cover. But they did not find another spot so suitable for a stand as the Pua-kowhai.

About this time the Arawa lost their highest and most venerated chief, the white-haired warrior Tohi te Ururangi. The old man was standing on a low hillock of sand near the sea, directing the movements of his men, and shouting and pointing with his taiaha, when a bullet laid him low. But his battle was won. The invaders' only thought now was how to escape. One canny fellow from Opotiki, the chief Hira te Popo, spied a convenient gully in the cliffs, and led his own section of the war party into it, and so inland out of further trouble. The rest ran for Matata. Men dropped dead or wounded all along the way. The pursuers killed several fighting men of the Whakatohea on the sandhills very close to where the Matata railway station stands to-day. That was the end of a perfect day so far as the Arawa were concerned. They had killed quite fifty of their foes in the running fight.