But the owl shouted out “More pork! more pork!” and does so to this day.
“Come, children,” said Santa Claus, “I have more wonderful things to show you before the sun rises;” and he led them out of the forest and up a hill, from the brow of which they looked on a plain broken by deep gullies and bounded afar by dark mountain ranges. Scattered trees loomed vast and unreal in the misty light, and the children walked on silently, almost wishing they were at home again, but yet curious to know what else Santa Claus had to show them. Suddenly a miserable little cur ran out of the bushes, barking, and amidst the manuka and cabbage-trees they saw a raupo whare. Grotesque heads carved upon the gable and on the corner posts of the low roof grinned hideously at Hal and Cis, and they were very startled when some dark figures, wrapped in loose mats, ran out hastily, looking big and weird in the dim and uncertain light.
“They are not giants, are they?” whispered little Cis in a timid tone.
“No, no,” replied Hal, “they are only Maories; and see, they are more frightened of us than you are of them.”
The Maories, indeed, on seeing Santa Claus, his starry crown shining like a halo round his head, and Hal, whose face was lighted up by the Star of Love which he carried, were terrified, and uttering loud cries of “Aue! Aue!” they rushed back into their hut.
“They are only Maories; and see, they are more frightened of us than you are of them.”
“Why do they run away from us?” asked Cis.