But as for this stranger, had he not food and friends of his own? what did he want of them? they asked.
"Help for a neighbour who has saved more lives than can be counted, and is now lying on the hills with a broken leg; help to convey him to his home," Mr. Hirpington returned, with increasing warmth, as he showed them there was but one way of doing that. They must carry the poor fellow through the bush on a stretcher. "When did colonists turn their back on a chum in distress?" he asked reproachfully.
"Shut up," said the captain, "and show us where he lies."
They would have set to work on the broken boughs and twisted them into a stretcher; but there was nothing small enough for the purpose left above ground. They must turn the tent into a palanquin once again, and manage as Hal had done before them.
One and all agreed if the Maoris had been using threatening language to the suffering man's boy, they could not go their ways and leave him behind in the Maoris' country. "No, no," was passed from lip to lip, and they took their way to the hill.
Mr. Hirpington was himself again, and his geniality soon melted the frost amongst his new friends.
"So you have carried him blankets and food?" they said; and the heartiness of the "yes" with which he responded made them think a little better of him.
The steep was climbed. Mr. Lee heard the steady tramp approaching, and waked up Hal.
"Humph!" remarked the foremost man, as he caught sight of Hal. "I thought you said you brought them food."
"Are you sure you did not eat it all by the way?" asked another of Mr. Hirpington.