George bowed low, the corners of his mouth twitching, and, with a dignified gesture of farewell, the chief drew his mat about his shoulders and stalked away up the hill.
After breakfast Terence strolled off to take a look at the reinforcements, and, while George sat quietly on a log, smoking, Kawainga appeared and began to collect the wooden plates and tin cups. Once, as she passed him, she said almost in a whisper: 'Paeroa waits on the bush track where the river forks'; and again, as she repassed with her hands full: 'Hasten, Hortoni, for when the shadows shorten the Hawk will return.'
George made no sign that he heard, but as soon as the girl had withdrawn, looked at his watch and strolled carelessly along the track towards the river. There was not too much time, for it was nearly half-past eleven; but he felt that he must learn what Paeroa wanted with him, knowing that the man would not have sent him such a message and in such a way for nothing.
By the river bridge he stopped as if undecided which way to go, then turned to the left and followed the bank towards the fork. Half-way thither he stopped again, hands in pockets, and one foot idly kicking up the soil. He was the picture of a man with nothing to do. Note that he was standing now in the clearing between the bush and the river, about midway between the two.
While he loitered there, his greenstone club slipped from his belt to the ground, and without the loss of a moment he stooped to recover it. As he did so, a bullet hummed over his bending head, and he heard the sharp smack of a gun close by.
Once again the mere had been the means of saving his life; for, had he remained erect, he must have been shot through the head.
Confusion seized George's brain as he snatched up the club and bounded into the bush in search of the assassin. As he broke through the fringing trees, he saw Terence, fists up, waiting for a burly Maori to rise from the ground. No sooner had the fellow found his feet than the Irishman hit him a terrific blow on the point of the chin, and down he went again into the fern and lay senseless.
'Oh, it was you he was after then,' cried George. 'He nearly hit me, all the same.'
'Naturally,' Terence observed drily. 'He was taking careful aim at you when I spotted him. He pulled off before I could reach him, but next minute I knocked him down. It is a good thing you saw him and ducked in time.'
'But I didn't see him,' George said rather wearily. 'The instant before that shot was fired, the greenstone club slipped through my belt to the ground, though I had secured it ten minutes earlier. As I stooped to raise it, the bullet passed over my head.'