Nga-Hepé took up the bag and changed it from hand to hand.
Kakiki Mahane leaned forward and felt its contents. "Stones and dirt," he remarked, choosing English words to increase the impression.
"Sell it to me, then," put in Mr. Hirpington. "What shall I give you for it? three good horses?"
He held out his hand to receive the bag of many adventures, and then the cunning old chief could be the first to bid Nga-Hepé open it and see. But the remembrance of the tana was too vivid in his son-in-law's mind for him to wish to display his secreted treasure before the greedy eyes of his tribe. He was walking off to deposit it in Marileha's lap, when Mr. Hirpington intercepted him, saying in a tone of firm control and good-natured patience, in the happy proportion which gave him his influence over his unmanageable neighbours: "Come now, that is not fair. Untie the bag, and let us see if it has come back to you all right or not. You have pulled down my stables to find it; who is to build them up again?"
"Give us four horses for the loss of time," said one of the Maoris.
"Agreed, if you will give me five for the mischief you have done me," he answered readily.
"You can't get over him," said Nga-Hepé. "It is of no use talking."
Kneeling down on the landing-stairs, he opened his treasure on his wife's now greasy silk, displaying sharks' teeth, gold, bank-notes, greenstone, kauri gum—every precious thing of which New Zealand could boast. They began to count after their native manner.
Mr. Hirpington stepped aside to Kakiki. "You took my advice and Ottley's: you carried your money to the Auckland bank. Make Nga-Hepé do the same."
"Before another moon is past I will," the old chief answered, grasping the hand of his trusty counsellor, who replied,—