"Take him," gasped Whero; "keep him as you have kept my Beauty. The ungrateful pigs were to kill him—to kill and eat my precious redbreast; but he soared into the air at my call, and they could not catch him."
Edwin’s boyish sympathies were all ablaze for his outraged friend. "Is that their Maori gratitude," he exclaimed, "when it was your kaka which guided me to the spot?"
"When I told them so," sobbed Whero, "they laughed, and said, ’We will stick his feathers in our hair by way of remembrance.’ They shall not have him or his feathers. They shall eat me first. I will take him back to the hill which no man cares to climb. I will live with dead men’s bones and despise their tapu; but no man shall eat my kaka."
During the outpouring of Whero’s wrath, Edwin had small chance of getting an answer to his anxious question. "Are not those your people rowing across the lake? Is Lawford with them? Did he bring the bag to your father all right?"
Whero looked at him incredulously. Edwin waved his hand, and the Maori boy leaped up for once behind him. He took the kaka from Edwin’s wrist and hugged it fondly whilst he listened to his explanations about Lawford.
"It was I," interposed Whero, "who was staying behind to dig up the bag by the white pines. Did my father think I would not go when I ran off to call away my kaka? Where could he meet this pakeha and I not know, that he should trust him to look for his hoard? as if any one beside me or my mother could find it. Kito!" (lies.)
But the pelting rain cut short his wonder, as Edwin urged everything else must give way to the pressing necessity of finding some better shelter for Mr. Lee. It was useless to look for Lawford any longer.
"You will help me, Whero?" entreated Edwin earnestly, as they turned the horse’s head towards the small brown tent. It was lying flat, blown down by the wind in their absence. Hal had folded up the canvas, and was pacing up and down in a very dismal fashion.
"Father," said Edwin, springing to the ground, "I can’t find Lawford; but this Maori boy was going to a sheltered place high up in the hills. Will you let us carry you there?"
"Anywhere, anywhere, out of this pond," replied Mr. Lee.
"Have at it then!" cried Whero, seizing hold of the board; but Hal called out to them to stay a bit. By his direction they lifted Mr. Lee on his board and laid it along the stout canvas. Hal tied up the ends with the tent ropes, so that they could carry Mr. Lee between them, slung, as it were, in a hammock. Hal supported his head, and the two boys his feet.