[[3]] The apteryx, a curious, small, wingless bird.
Now the blackness of night was around him, though it was yet full day; but, though he feared the darkness, he feared more for his companions lest they should die of cold and hunger and thirst. 'For then,' said he, 'the blame shall be mine, for I it was who brought them to this pass.' Wherefore he prayed for his friends more than for himself.
But presently he rose and made a fire of sticks to warm his blood. But, though the fire burned, neither did it warm him nor give any light beyond itself. Wherefore Te Turi was sure that the gods were angry, and he prayed that he might propitiate them by the sacrifice of the best thing he had, though he himself should die for want of it.
So he laid his beautiful mat of feathers upon the fire, which greedily devoured it, and then he scattered the ashes to the four quarters of the earth and chanted a prayer to ATUA.[[4]]
[[4]] The gods collectively, or Fate.
Then lo, a marvel! For of a sudden Te Turi grew warm and the dark forest fell away, and before him opened a glade, rich in flowers and fruit, and in the midst of it a stream of water, crystal pure.
Then, filled with joy, Te Turi stretched out his hand, for he was very hungry. Yet even in that moment he remembered his friends and the men, and, having first gathered fruit and filled a gourd with water for them, he ate and drank his fill.
And now, being strengthened in spirit and in body, Te Turi bowed his head and gave thanks to ATUA and prayed to his ancestors.
And, as he lifted his head, lo, before him was a mat of kiwi feathers, larger and more beautiful than he had ever seen, and very soft and perfect, as a mat sent from the gods ought to be. For Te Turi knew that the gods had sent him the mat because he had thought of his friends before himself. So, marvelling, he put it on and turned to rejoin his companions.
But a voice cried 'Stay!' and Te Turi, seeing no one, feared, and turned again.