"I will get you something to eat," Wilfrid answered.
The Maoris would have followed into the house, but he stopped and said sharply, "We do not allow strangers in the house. Those we know are free to enter and depart as they choose, but I have not seen any of you before. If you will sit down on that bench outside I will bring you food."
He soon reappeared with a dish of maize and boiled pork, for a supply was generally kept in readiness in case any of the natives should come in.
"Shuffle about and make a noise," he said to Marion as she got the dish from the cupboard. "They cannot know who are inside, and if they mean mischief—and honestly I do not like their looks—they will be more likely to try it on if they think that I am alone."
The Maoris took the food in silence, and as they ate it Wilfrid was amused to hear Marion stamping heavily about inside, and occasionally speaking as if to her father. He could see that the men were listening, and they exchanged words in a low tone with each other.
Presently the leader of the party said, "Drink!" Wilfrid went in and brought out a pitcher of water. "Gin!" the chief said shortly. "I have no gin to give you," Wilfrid replied; "we do not keep spirits."
The natives rose to their feet. "We will come in and see," the leader said.
"No you won't!" Wilfrid said firmly. "I have given you what food there is in the house, and you are welcome to it; but strangers don't come into the house unless they are invited."
The native laid his hand on Wilfrid's shoulder to push him aside, but four months of chopping and digging had hardened every muscle in the lad's body. He did not move an inch, but jerked the Maori's hand off his shoulder.
With an exclamation of anger the native drew a heavy knobbed stick from the girdle round his waist, but before he could raise it to strike another figure appeared at the door. Marion held a gun in her hand which she raised to her shoulder. "Drop that," she said in a clear ringing voice, "or I fire!"