“Pakeha,” he said; “Ngati pakeha. Maori pakeha. My pakeha!”
Then to Don—“You my pakeha. Give me powder—gun.”
“Don’t you wish you may get it, old chap?” said Jem. “Wants you to give him powder and gun.”
The savage nodded approval.
“Yes,” he said; “powder-gun—you give.”
A call from one of his companions summoned the savage away, and he joined them to partake of some rum and water, which the captain had had prepared on their behalf.
“Won’t you come up and have some rum?” said the lieutenant to the tattooed Englishman in the boat.
“No, thank you; but you may send me down the bottle if you like, sir. Look here! Shall I show you where you can anchor?”
The lieutenant glanced at his superior officer, and in answer to his nod turned to the man again.
“Can you show us a safe anchorage?”