The path grew more wild and rugged, and the roar increased as they ascended, till, after turning an angle in the winding gully, the sound came continuously with a deep-toned, thunderous bellow.
“There, what did I tell you?” said Jem, as the top of the mountain was plainly in view, emitting steam, and about a mile distant. “That’s the chimney roaring.”
“It’s a great waterfall somewhere on ahead,” replied Don; and a few yards farther on they came once more upon the edge of the river, which here ran foaming along at the bottom of what was a mere jagged crack stretching down from high up the mountain, and with precipitous walls, a couple of hundred feet down.
Ngati seemed more satisfied after a while, and they sat down in a narrow valley they were ascending to finish the eggs, whose shells were thrown into the torrent.
“I should like to know where he’s going to take us,” said Jem, all at once.
“It does not matter, so long as it is into safety,” said Don. “For my part, I— Lie down, quick!”
Jem obeyed, and bending low, Don seized the Maori’s arm, pointing the while down the way they had come at a couple of naked savages, leaping from stone to stone, spear armed, and each wearing the white-tipped tail feathers of a bird in his hair.
Ngati saw the danger instantly, fell flat on his breast, and signing to his companions to follow, began to crawl in and out among the rocks and bushes, making for every point likely to afford shelter, while, in an agony of apprehension as to whether they had been seen, Don and Jem followed painfully,
till the chief halted to reconnoitre and make some plan of escape.