"You, pakeha! Come and give me a hand. Help me to drag in my food!"
"What do you want?" Bent heard a rough voice ask. He turned and saw the war-chief Titokowaru standing at his side. "What do you want of this pakeha?"
The Maori replied that he wished the white man to help him haul the soldier's body into the marae.
"No!" cried the chief in his great hoarse voice. "No! you must not call upon my pakeha to help you. He shall not touch the bodies of his countrymen."
So the war-captain and his cartridge-maker stood by watching the frightful procession of Hauhaus and their prizes. The seven naked bodies were dragged into the pa and laid out in the centre of the marae.
The excited people all gathered in a great circle around the bodies. One after another the orators leaped out from the squatting ranks, their eyes flashing wildly in the pukana glare; they bounded to and fro, and cut the air with their tomahawks as they told the thrilling episodes of the fight.
All the clothes, arms, and accoutrements taken from the dead and wounded were laid before Titokowaru.
"Whose was this?" the war-chief would ask, picking up a carbine, or an ammunition-pouch, or a soldier's tunic from the heap.
"Mine," replied the man who had taken it on the battle-field.
"Take it away, then," said Titokowaru. "Whose is this?" picking up another trophy.