Fortunately for the friends, the bullet merely startled an elderly chief into a most undignified caper as it hummed past his ear, and on the instant Winata leaped from the ground and hurled himself at Terence.
But the great fighter was handicapped by his fear of George, whose own weapon came more than once so dangerously near his head that he gave back in alarm; for there was no knowing when that magical piece of greenstone would spring out of its master's hand and begin a devil's dance upon its own account.
Still, it might have gone hardly with Terence, but that, as the Maoris surged about him, a deep voice cried angrily: 'Is the word of Te Karearea of no weight in this hapu? And you, Hortoni, why do you break faith with me?'
Where the chief had sprung from George had no idea, but he was uncommonly glad to see him, and, as the Maoris shrank back, he briefly explained who Terence was and what had taken place. Thereupon Te Karearea turned upon Winata Pakaro and rated him viciously, demanding how he had dared to take so much upon himself. To this verbal castigation Winata merely opposed a smile of cynical amusement as he walked away.
Then Te Karearea faced George once more and said graciously, 'I give you, O Hortoni, the life of the friend for whom you would have given your own. To-morrow you shall tell me the story of your friendship. But he must give up the rifle.'
At a nod from George, Terence surrendered the rifle, and Te Karearea then extended his hand, as if expecting to receive the greenstone club as well. But when this piece of impudent bluff—which was extremely well acted—met with the reception it deserved, he grinned good-humouredly and nodded to the pair to withdraw, which they did at once.
With his arm round Terence's shoulders, George piloted his chum towards the huge fallen tree, beneath which he designed to pass the night. 'You dear old fellow!' he said heartily, drawing Terence to him. 'Who would have thought of meeting here, and like this? What a mercy I came up in time!'
'Thank God you did!' replied Terence, unable to repress a shudder; for when a brave man has stared death in the face, and the grim Gatherer has passed on, leaving him untouched, he is not, as a rule, flippant about his experience.
'When I came rushing up, I hadn't the faintest idea that I was to meet you,' went on George. 'Indeed, I only recognised you when you screamed at me in that queer, cracked voice. In the first place, I had never seen you in uniform, and in the—— Hold up, old fellow!'
For Terence staggered and would have fallen, had not the strong arm around his shoulders slipped to his waist and supported him.