George assented, but without conviction.
'Any way, sir, you'll admit they haven't treated us as bad as might have been expected.' He made a wry face, recollecting his recent failure.
'True; but even at the eleventh hour they could hardly have got on without us, had the weather changed, or—— However, let that go. One thing I will ask of you. Should any of them offer provocation, take no notice. All we want is to be well rid of them.'
'You are right, sir,' assented Bigham; 'and you have been right all along. I'll warn the men.' Which, for a Lancashire man, was a very notable surrender.
Greatly relieved, George turned from the mate to find Te Karearea at his elbow, all smiles and courtesy. 'We part soon, Hortoni,' he began, 'and the Maori will again set foot in his own land, whence the Pakeha unjustly drove him.'
George turned from the mate to find Te Karearea at his elbow. (page 79).
Resentment still smouldered in George at the insolent proposal made to him, but, mindful of his own advice to Bigham, he answered lightly: 'Possibly the Pakeha may endeavour to repeat his performance.'
'When a bird has screamed to the eagle the whereabouts of the hawk?' queried the chief, grinning.