'Salutations, Hortoni, and to you, Mura, salutations. I have looked for you since the dawn. Where did you sleep last night?'
'Here,' replied George, determined not to give away the least advantage by overmuch speech.
'Why did you leave the bivouac?'
'I think the bivouac left us.' George smiled pleasantly. 'We woke to find it deserted, and such a dreadful racket arose that it was impossible to sleep through the din.' He interpreted to Terence, who nodded emphatically, preferring this method on account of his admitted tendency to 'open his mouth and put his foot in it.'
'And so you removed to this side?' pursued the chief.
'We had very little inducement to remain on the other,' said George truthfully. 'What was the cause of that terrific noise?'
'Night is the council-time of the Maori,' Te Karearea replied. 'I and my people were met together. Then Paeroa returned with men of Ngatiawa and Waikato, and reported that a band of Arawa dogs had followed at his heels. Thereafter arose a cry that spies were lurking in the scrub.'
The furtive brown eyes, steady for once, stared hard at George, whose expression was one of genuine surprise.
This was news indeed, if true. Nothing would more effectually divert suspicion from them than the supposed proximity of Arawa scouts. George had much ado to conceal his satisfaction; but all he said was, after interpreting to Terence: 'Can we still get breakfast at the camp, Chief? We have slept late.'
'Kawainga weeps for your absence,' returned the Maori, with an ironical grin. 'Go and see.' He was evidently puzzled, and, as he turned to go, informed them: 'At noon I enter the pah with my warriors. Be ready, Hortoni, for I desire that you and Mura should enter it with me as honoured guests.'