Day after day passed, and the Maoris lay behind their strong stockade waiting for the attack. The underground food-stores were well supplied; water was carried in in _taha_, or calabashes, made by scooping out the soft inside of the _hué_ gourd; bullets were cast and cartridges were made. Then, as no troops appeared, and the scouts who kept constant watch on the forest outskirts reported that there was no sign of immediate action on the part of the enemy, the tension of garrison life relaxed, and the ordinary avocations of the _kainga_ were resumed.
In a clearing hewn and burnt from the heart of the woods were the cultivation grounds. Here all the able-bodied men of the fort were set to work, turning up the rich black soil and planting potatoes, _kumara_, and _taro_. Planting over, the lengthening days were spent in hunting wild pigs, and in gathering wild honey, which was plentiful in hollow trees in the forests; or in strolling, pipe in mouth, about the _pa_; playing draughts (_kaimu_) on the _marae_ in Maori fashion; singing songs and narrating old stories and legends. Night and morning there were long Hauhau prayers, led by the priest of the _pa_, old Tukino, who was one of Te Ua's apostles.
Life in this bush-fort presented to the lonely _pakeha_ a picture of barbaric simplicity. Few of the people had European clothing; the men's working garb was just a rough flax mat hanging from the waist to the knees. They lived on the wild foods of the forest until their crops were ready for digging; snared _kaka_ (parrots) and the sweet-tongued _korimako_, or bell-birds; _tui_, or parson-birds, and the swarming wood-pigeons, and shot or speared the pigs that abounded in the dense woods. They lived to a large extent, too, on _aruhe_, or fern-root, which they dug up in the open patches of fern-land; and in the bush they gathered the berries of the _hinau_-tree, steeped them in water to rid them of their astringency, dried them in the sun, and then pounded them into cakes, which made a sustaining if not very palatable food. Another food-staple was _kaanga-pirau_, or maize steeped in water until if was quite decayed. "The smell of this Indian corn," says Bent, with an emphasis begotten of unpleasant memories, "was enough to kill a dog. Nevertheless, I had to eat it, and in time I got used to it."