The Maori still held George at a disadvantage, but made no effort to follow up his attack. Bending down until his lips were close to the Englishman's ear, he muttered in agitated tones, 'Hortoni! Master! Forgive! I knew thee not, and have brought danger upon thee. Fly swiftly. I will hold them back.'
The case was not one for argument, and as George and Terence raced down the hill, Paeroa—for it was indeed he—sprang out of the bushes with a yell and bounded after his comrade.
The latter, of course, had heard the commotion, and was coming back to inquire into its cause; but Paeroa met him with the frightful announcement, 'It was a lizard! A taipo! I have slain him.' Then screeching 'Taipo! Taipo!' at the top of his voice, he sped towards Te Karearea, closely followed by his friend, who had no desire to investigate further. For the mere mention of a lizard is horrible to a Maori, so ingrained is the superstition that evil spirits of most malignant type invariably assume this shape.
But Paeroa had reckoned without his over-lord. Te Karearea was by no means free from superstition, but he was a man of keen intelligence, and he instantly perceived that Paeroa's story did not square with the noise of fast-retreating footsteps. So he rapidly issued orders which sent a score of the newly-arrived Maoris hastening upon the track of the fugitives, while Paeroa, who attempted to lead them with a view of helping the Pakehas, was sternly ordered to remain where he was.
The Maoris, uncertain whether they were chasing men or demons, made a lusty noise to scare the latter and keep up their own courage, and with the roar of the pursuit thundering in their ears, George and Terence dashed down the hill at what was very nearly breakneck speed. For a fall among the boulders or a headlong crash against the trunk of a tree might easily serve to smash a skull or snap a spinal column.
But, fortunately for them, the nature of the ground soon became such as no man could pass through at a run.
Had they struck the rough path which Te Karearea's axe-men had hewn while they slept, or chanced on one of the numerous tracks which pierced the forest for miles around for the convenience of hunters, all would have been well; for all these roads led to the river or to the bivouac. Once there, ahead of the Hau-haus, they might have defied detection, since no one but Paeroa could certainly have said who were the intruders upon their grim rites.
But in the first mad rush of their flight they had plunged deeply into the maze of the forest, where, dark as it was, for the half-moon was low, they were almost at the mercy of the thorns, which rent their clothes and tore their bodies, and of the thousand-armed, clinging kawakawa, the supplejack, whose tough, all-embracing tendrils held them back with the power of ropes.
'We are trapped,' panted Terence. 'Let us turn and make a fight of it.'
For behind, alongside, and even ahead of them pealed the vengeful shouts of the Hau-haus.