“I’m that hungry, Mas’ Don,” growled Jem, “that I could eat one o’ these here savages. Not all at once, of course.”
“Look, Jem. What are they doing there?”
Don nodded his head in the direction of the broken fence; and together they looked down from the eminence on which the pah was formed, right upon the black volcanic sand, over which the sea ran foaming like so much glistening silver.
There were about fifty of the enemy busy there running to and fro, and the spectators were not long left in doubt as to what they were doing, for amid a great deal of shouting one of the huge war canoes was run down over the sand and launched, a couple of men being left to keep her by the shore, while their comrades busied themselves in launching others, till every canoe belonging to the conquered tribe was in the water.
“That’s it, is it?” said Jem. “They came over land, and now they’re going back by water. Well, I s’pose, they’ll do as they like.”
“Isn’t this nearest one Ngati’s canoe, Jem?”
“Yes, my lad; that’s she. I know her by that handsome face cut in the front. I s’pose poor Ngati’s dead.”
“I’m afraid so,” said Don, sadly. “I’ve been trying to make out his face and Tomati’s among the prisoners, but I can’t see either.”
“More can’t I, Mas’ Don. It’s a werry bad job. Lookye yonder now.”
Don was already looking, for a great deal of excited business was going on below, where the victorious tribe was at work, going and coming, and bringing down loads of plunder taken from the various huts. One man bore a bundle of spears, another some stone tomahawks, which were rattled into the bottom of the canoes. Then paddles, and bundles of hempen garments were carried down, with other objects of value in the savage eye.