"Yes, my lord, it is the tomb; I recognize it."
Robert was right. Fifty feet above, at the extreme point of the mountain, stood a small palisaded inclosure of freshly-painted stakes. Glenarvan, likewise, recognized the sepulchre of the Maori chief. In their wanderings they had come to the top of the Maunganamu, where Kara-Tété had been buried.
Followed by his companions, he climbed the sides of the peak, to the very foot of the tomb. A large opening, covered with mats, formed the entrance. Glenarvan was about to enter, when, all at once, he started back suddenly.
"A savage!" said he.
"A savage in this tomb?" inquired the major.
"Yes, MacNabb."
"What matter? Let us enter."
Glenarvan, the major, Robert, and Captain Mangles passed into the inclosure. A Maori was there, clad in a great flax mantle. The darkness of the sepulchre did not permit them to distinguish his features. He appeared very calm, and was eating his breakfast with the most perfect indifference.
Glenarvan was about to address him, when the native, anticipating him, said, in an amiable tone, and in excellent English:
"Be seated, my dear lord; breakfast is awaiting you."