cannot be my old boat lifted off the rocks by a
high tide? No, it could not be that; for
the boat had been almost all removed for one
purpose or other. And, yet I heard footsteps;
and then a loud gruff voice, saying, "Kumea,
Kumea!" I knew that voice well, but I almost
thought I was dreaming. I rushed out, and saw
by the light of the moon, which was then near
the full, five or six dusky figures trying to
haul up a large boat out of the reach of the
breakers. With a loud shout of joy I ran
forward, but stood amazed and appalled at the
sudden yell which escaped from the persons, who
left off dragging the boat, and tumbled precipitately
into her, as if their only safety were there.
Moreover, I saw to my horror a large bare
brawny arm held up, with something glittering
in the moon's silver light, and I feared its flying
at me. "Kowai koe?" (Who are you?) shouted
a loud voice. "Ko Henare ahau" (I am Henry),
I exclaimed. "Stop," answered the voice, "or
I throw this!" at the same time brandishing
the small tomahawk. I well knew the fatal aim
that would follow if I moved. I stood perfectly
still. The figure then moved towards the boat.
"Stop, Monganui," I cried, in an agony of
fear lest they should go off again and leave me.
"I am Henry—do not leave me." "Ka teka
koe" (You lie), he exclaimed, "kua mate Henare
(Henry is dead). You are his spirit." "No,
no," I answered, "I swear to you I am he.
Come and touch me, and see whether I am not
flesh and blood." "No," he said, "I do not
believe you. You are a spirit, and I shall
go." He made towards the boat. What agony
I suffered at that moment! But suddenly he
turned, and stood still, calling to me, "Ka
kite koe tera kowhatu?" (Do you see that stone?)
pointing to one at my feet. "Ae ra" (Yes), I
answered. "Take it up, then." I did so. "Now,
do you see that tree?" pointing to the very tree
I had tied my boat to when I first landed, and
which grew out of the rocks. "I see it."
"Throw the stone at it." I did so, and hit
it. "Ah!" he said, "no ghost could do
that—only flesh and blood could lift and throw
a large stone like that." "May I come, then,
to you?" "Yes," he said, still, however,
hesitating. I went up to him with the usual
Maori salute of "Tena koutou."

He caught hold of me and grasped my hand
so hard that I flinched. "Ah," he said, "that
is real flesh and blood;" and then looking
me full in the face, he said, "and you look
something like Henry, only thinner." "Live
here five months, Monganui," I replied, "and
try to keep stout on it."

As soon as he had fully got it into his mind
that I was the person I represented myself to
be, he began asking me innumerable questions.
The others had been listening all this time in
the boat, and on his order came out reluctantly;
we pulled the boat up high on the beach, the
women (for they were the chief's five wives)
casting all the time side glances of doubt and
mistrust on me. But I contrived once or twice
to knock against them rather roughly, as only
flesh and blood and bones could do, and this
seemed to set their minds at rest. Monganui,
who was the chief who had given me the two
boys, came up to my hut, while his wives busied
themselves in making a shelter for the night
with the oars of the boat and their blankets.
Monganui and I remaining at my house after
supper, we lighted our pipes. I proceeded to
narrate my adventures of the last few months,
in the course of which I was frequently
interrupted by his savage ejaculations of astonishment.
When I had done, he said, "Ah, well,
you would make a good Maori," that being the
very highest compliment he could pay me. I
then asked him how he had come, and why?
He told me he had been fishing at the Black
Rocks, and it had come on to blow very fresh,
as in my own case; so freshly did it blow at
last, that, despite his having a whale boat and
crew, they could not pull against it, and so ran
before it to these islands.

In the morning, as soon as it was light,
we went out. We found the women already up,
a fire lighted, and some potatoes and fish being
cooked in an iron pot, or kohua. The women
at first looked somewhat askance at me, but
seeing me take a potato out of the pot and
deliberately peel and eat it, they again seemed
considerably relieved.

Of course Monganui had made his mind up
that I would leave the island with him as soon
as the weather moderated, which it seemed
about to do. He arranged for our leaving early
the following morning. The morning opened
clear and fine, with the wind in the right
direction for sailing back again. We were all
astir early, and in a bustle of preparation. As
soon as breakfast was over, the things were all
put on board the boat, and everything was
ready for the start. Just then my heart failed
me, despite my long and lonely residence on the
island. I could not overcome my fears of
trusting myself in that small boat, deeply laden
as she was, and leaking, as I knew of old she
did, for so long a journey. When it came to
the point, I drew back, much to Monganui's
astonishment. "I will stay," I said; "should
you land safely, please go to Kororaika
and tell the white people I am here, and that I
have been living here five months. Seek the
magistrate there, and ask him to send a small
vessel for me, and I will remain patiently here
until it arrives." "But, Henry," he answered
eagerly, "there is room. The sea is quiet, and
I think I can find my way home again. Do
come with us." Again and again he urged me,
but to no purpose. They all got into the boat
and prepared to start, when up jumped the
chief again and ran to me, pressed his nose
against mine, and, with tears in his eyes, said
once more, "Now, Henry, now for the last
time!" "No, Monganui, I feel I cannot." I
rushed away to my hut scarcely daring to trust
myself any longer, and there gave way to a flood
of tears. After a lapse of about a quarter of
an hour I rushed up the rock and looked after
the boat; there it was, a little white speck