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Chapter IX
The Weka Calls Again

At the hour of sunset on a beautiful evening two weeks later, Ronald Cameron squatted beside a log in the midst of a clump of heavy bush, and listened to the desultory rifle-fire that sounded from the fern-clad ridge above him. He was awaiting a despatch which Captain Barry, who was seated upon the log not far from him, was at that moment writing; and his business was to carry it back to Turanganui as quickly as possible.

Ron had much to think about, for since that never-to-be-forgotten morning, but a few days back, when he had marched forth with the Forest Rangers and several hundred friendly natives to commence the pursuit of the arch-villain Te Kooti, events had moved rapidly.

With his comrades of the Rangers Ron was supremely satisfied. They appeared in his eyes to be as gallant a set of men as ever he could wish to see. Of distinctive uniform they had as yet none. Bach man wore the garments that appeared to page 114him to be the most suited to his employment, and the result was, in some instances, rather comical. But they were splendid fellows, and out to catch Te Kooti, or perish in the attempt. Their unquestioning acceptance of Ron as a fellow-campaigner had delighted the boy, who secretly was a little bit ashamed of his own youth, as compared with the years of these bearded men.

But if he was interested in the Forest Rangers, he was even more intrigued by the Maori contingent. Their leaders were four well-known Hawke's Bay chiefs. There was that marvellous old man, Renata—upon whom, as a fighting-man of recognized valour and ability, Ron looked with great respect. Then there were Henare Tomoana, Tareha, and Karauria. With the last-named, a young man of kingly bearing and proud descent, Ron had struck up a firm friendship, the fact that the pakeha boy was a fair Maori scholar serving to prosper it. As Captain Barry's special scout, Ron naturally had a great deal of liberty in his comings and goings, and Captain Barry had encouraged him to spend a considerable portion of his time among the Maoris. The shrewd soldier had early formed the intention of making Ron "his eyes and his ears" on the campaign, and realizing the benefits that must accrue page 115from having on every occasion the Maori viewpoint of affairs, had bade Ron be wide awake to any suggestions or hints that came from the natives.

And Ron revelled in his work, despite the fact that only yesterday, when the pursuers had come up with the enemy, he had been disappointed to learn that, for the present, at least, he was to take no part in the actual fighting.

The allies had reached the banks of the Makaretu river to find Te Kooti and his Hauhaus strongly entrenched on the opposite bank, close to the edge of some heavily timbered country. There had been fighting immediately. The Hauhaus had attacked in force, but had eventually been beaten off, and the Hawke's Bay natives, with a sprinkling of Rangers, had managed to obtain possession of a high ridge overlooking the Hauhaus' main position. Here they had contrived to entrench themselves after a fashion, by digging holes with sticks, bayonets, and knives; and they were hanging on grimly, despite the fact that food was getting low, and ammunition had to be used sparingly. It was weary, unadventurous fighting, and such as did not inspire the Hawke's Bay Maoris, who were anything but patient folk. Hence had arisen the necessity of sending a runner back toward page 116Turanganui to ascertain whether fresh supplies were on their way.

Noting that Captain Barry had finished writing his despatch, Ron rose. The soldier gave it to him, and watched him slip it into an inside pocket.

"You are certain of the way?" he asked.

"Positive, sir," Ron answered. "I never forget country that I have once been over."

"Then I shall expect you back by to-morrow evening if all goes well," Captain Barry declared. "And I only hope that you will find the way clear. It would be a serious business for us should the enemy contrive to tamper with our line of communication."

"I'll get through somehow, sir," the boy answered. Then he started, and glanced quickly at Captain Barry.

For from the bottom of the hill, clearly and distinctly, a weka had called three times!

Had Captain Barry noticed the call? Furtively he tried to read the soldier's face; but it remained inscrutable, and its owner merely said casually: "Well, good-bye, Ronald. Take care that you are not too venturesome. You are only a lad, but I place great faith in you."

Without further words Ron saluted, and disappeared into the bush. Had he looked back he page 117would have seen Captain Barry standing quite still, alert for any repetition of the weka call. And Captain Barry was saying to himself: "I do not remember ever before having heard a weka cry in that peculiar manner. And the lad recognized it as a signal. It is evidently the mysterious Maori again. At least, it satisfies me that all will be well with my runner."

But Ron did not look back. Quietly he made his way through the bush, past the sentries on this side, down the hill in the direction whence had come the call. He was filled with joy at the prospect of meeting Hori once more.

To his surprise he found no sign of his friend at the bottom of the hill. The bank opposite was clothed with nothing higher than big fern, and afforded but little cover. So, in case there might be any enemies about, he turned to the right and determined to travel along the gully until he struck the bed of a creek that he knew he must come upon within the next hundred yards.

At that moment he heard three sharp weka calls from the opposite direction.

He grinned. "Hori's guiding me!" he thought gleefully. "Perhaps right through the midst of the Hauhaus!" So he wheeled about and took the direction indicated by the signal.

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Those signals, repeated at intervals, brought him safely over the next hill, and down into a ferny gully; and just as darkness was beginning to fall they led him along the dry bed of a watercourse, and eventually into high forest again. He kept wishing that Hori would disclose himself, for he longed for speech with the friend who had done so much for his loved ones. But he wisely concluded that Hori knew his own business best, and would have joined him long ere this had the coast been clear.

Suddenly the call came softly from almost beside him. He halted, and waited expectantly—and in another moment Hori te Whiti glided out of the shade of a drooping tree and the two lads clasped hands.

"Hori!" exclaimed Ron eagerly.

"Hush!" replied the Maori, in a low voice. "The bush is full of ears. Speak softly, my brother!"

"I've been simply thirsting to see you, Hori," Ron said, lowering his tones in accordance with the Maori's command. "I've wanted a chance to try to thank you for what you have done for us. But I will never be able to thank you enough, not if I try for years."

Hori raised his hand. "Do not speak of thanks," page 119he said simply. "Have we not been as brothers, you and I? So my friend has not seen Hori of late? Yet last night I stood almost as near to you as I stand now, and when your captain gave the order that you should go to Turanganui I lay in some bush at hand and heard the very words!"

"I'm afraid that I'm not much of a scout at that rate!" complained Ron ruefully.

"There are very many of my race about your camp," smiled Hori. "It would be difficult to mark this or that one going or coming. So now you go to Turanganui?"

"Thanks to your safe guidance, yes," replied Ron.

"Well," said Hori, "go quickly, Roni. Keep on through this bush, and you will come out on the big track that leads to the ford. But also, go carefully, for I must go back ere I am missed."

"Are there Hauhaus about here?" asked Ron.

"I will tell you all I know," answered the Maori. "To-night Te Kooti sends forth a big party to capture the food and ammunition that is on its way for your people. They were to start with the fall of darkness, but they had scouts out in advance. The scouts I led you past, so I think now that your way is clear and that you will be in good time to give the warning, and so save the page 120lives of those who are bringing up the food. Bid them go back again, for the Hauhaus are many and will give no quarter. Peka te Makarini leads the party."

"And who on earth may he be?" asked Ron.

"He is Baker McLean in your tongue," answered Hori, with deep disgust. "A half-caste—neither one thing nor the other. He is a bad Maori, and bad pakeha."

"By Jove, Hori, I wish I'd known of all this earlier!" exclaimed Ron. "Then I could have——"

"You could have told your captain, and he would have sent out men to ambush the Hatihaus?" interrupted the Maori, and then he added quietly: "My eldest brother is of Baker's party."

"Oh, I see," Ron said awkwardly. "Then I am doubly grateful to you for having told me at all, Hori. And I say, Isbel told me if I met you to tell you how sorry she was to have behaved so foolishly."

"She had gone through a lot," Hori responded. "I did not blame her, though she frightened me very much. No one could have foreseen what happened. Neither did my people foresee, when they came suddenly to the edge of the bush, that page 121in pursuing her they were throwing themselves into a trap. I stayed only long enough to see that she was safe, and then I went away. No one but you two know that Hori te Whiti helped her?"

"No one," answered Ron, and Hori nodded in a satisfied manner.

"Now, go, my friend," he directed. "And when you go back to your captain tell him to be of good cheer. Bad news for Te Kooti is good news for the pakeha. The Ngatiporou are coming!"

"Hurrah!" cried Ron, almost dancing with excitement at the welcome news.

"Good-bye, Roni. We shall meet again!"

"Many times I hope, Hori!" replied Ron. "Good-bye, my best of friends."

The Maori turned away and glided into the bush.

Ron set out, making good progress, and presently came out on the track that he was to follow. He knew that the Hauhaus could travel quickly, but he considered that he could easily outstrip them. His anxiety was lest there should be no time in which to dispose of the food and ammunition which were so badly wanted back on the ridge above the Makaretu; but thinking it over carefully, he decided that serious though the loss would be, it would be better for the men to abandon the page 122supplies rather than to court inevitable destruction. Ears pricked for any sound of the supplyparty he hoped to meet, he went rapidly on. And just then, behind him, he heard a twig snap.

Now, the sound of a dry twig snapping means that something or some one has trodden upon it, which was the reason that caused Ronald Cameron to wheel suddenly round to face what he knew for certain would be peril. And peril he saw, in the form of an almost naked Maori, who was stealing up behind him, tomahawk in hand.

Ron grasped his knife, and remained standing perfectly still. His heart was beating madly, but he managed to steady himself. It was, he saw, a question of life or death, and death did not look very pleasant to him just then, when the fun of chasing Te Kooti was only beginning. So he waited, trusting to his nerve and to his quickness of eye and hand to carry him through the most perilous situation he had ever faced.

Seeing his quarry awaiting him so quietly the Hauhau quickened his pace. He came up at a run, scenting an easy victory over this pakeha, who neither attempted to run away nor to fight. He raised his tomahawk slowly, the better to enjoy his massacre of the strange, still pakeha, who stood like a sheep awaiting slaughter.

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But ere he delivered the blow an arm that seemed of steel shot up and gripped his own; and an instant later Ron's knife was thrust between his ribs, and the Hauhau went down with a sound that was something between a squeal and a groan.

Ron stood over his fallen adversary for a little. Had he killed a man? He felt himself trembling. Then quickly he pulled himself together, urged thereto by the fact that there might be other Hauhaus close at hand. Sparing only the time necessary to pull the apparently dead native to one side of the track, he sped onward as swiftly as he was able.

About a mile farther on he came up with the supply party; and he was not a moment too soon. Either the Hauhau raiders had set out ahead of Hori's reckoning, or else they had travelled with incredible speed, for hardly had the pakehas, at his warning, taken to the cover of the scrub than Baker McLean's men swooped down on the scene, with many savage outcries at finding their prey escaped them. Their disappointment, however, turned to joy when they discovered the value of the haul they had made, while the pakehas, retreating through the scrub, gnashed their teeth over the loss of the precious supplies.

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"It isn't dacent," said one of them, a mournful-looking Irishman, "for whoite men to be hunted about loike this. Oi tell you, Oi'm fair achin' for the toime when Oi for one will be huntin' afther them Hauhaus for a change!"

"Well," said Ron to the leader of the party, when it seemed that they were finally out of danger, "I had better give you Captain Barry's despatch, sir. I was to have taken it into Turanganui, but Captain Barry did not then know you were on your way to him."

They were sheltering in a deep ravine at the moment, where it seemed safe to strike a match. And by the aid of a match Captain Barry's despatch was read. Then, entrusted with a verbal answer, which confirmed Hori's news that the Ngatiporou were coming, Ron bade the men good-bye and turned away in the direction of Makaretu.

He had to go carefully, but by avoiding the main track and keeping a strict look-out he ultimately satisfied himself that he had managed to work round in advance of McLean's party. As he neared his destination he had some difficulty in dodging one or two Hauhau scouts; but his bushcraft stood him in good stead, and before dawn he passed like a shadow up the hill whereon the page 125Rangers and their allies were entrenched, and reported to Captain Barry what had befallen.

"Lieutenant Richards says he will do what he can, sir, and in the meantime he suggests that you try to keep the track clear. He has no men to spare for that purpose," said Ron, repeating the message word for word. And then he gave his officer the great news of the night: "The Ngatiporou are coming!"

"Good!" exclaimed Captain Barry heartily. "But I do not see," he added gravely, "how we are to hang on without supplies until they arrive Is there any word of when that will be?"

"Lieutenant Richards did not know, sir," answered Ron. "All he could say was that the chief Ropata had given his word."

"Then I must do what I can to keep the road clear," Captain Barry said. "But I confess, I do not like the position."

Nor did Ron like it, and neither did Jock, to whom, later in the day, Ron confided his experiences.

"We're short of everything," Jock told him.

"We've hardly enough ammunition left to take a good pop at yon rifle-pits, and by to-morrow we'll be living on fern-root!"

He was right. Rangers and Maoris alike made page 126their meals next day on the root of the tall fern that grew in such luxuriance about their position. But meanwhile Captain Barry had been busy, and by sending back a strong party as escort, he managed by the day following to bring up a supply of biscuit and enough ammunition to enable them to keep going for a little while longer.

The daily toll of killed and wounded was taken, and one morning the allies were plunged into grief by the loss of one of their most intrepid leaders.

Karauria was killed. At first Ron refused to believe the dreadful news. He had come to love the young chief, and for several days he moped about inconsolably. He begged to be allowed to go up among the fighting-men and attempt to avenge Karauria's death.

"There are many among us who will live to avenge him," said old Renata, when he heard of the boy's request. "E! Karauria was as the rare white heron. Such as he was is seen but once in a lifetime. But I will have utu for it! Never while Renata's eyes can see will I give up my pursuit of vengeance upon Te Kooti the murderer!"

And Renata kept his vow, as will be shown hereafter.