“Don’t cry out,” whispered Waihoura. “The man will take some time to load again, and we may get beyond his reach.” Her hopes were, however, vain, for directly afterwards several canoes darted from behind some rocks, and surrounding them, their canoe was towed to the shore.
“They are Hemipo’s people,” said Waihoura. “But keep silence, he is not among them, and they will merely keep us prisoners till he comes, and something may happen in the meantime.”
The country was tolerably level beyond the bank where the canoes lay. There was sufficient light from the stars to enable Harry to see for some distance inland, and he recognised the spot as the same place at which they had been taken on shore on their way up the river. After waiting a considerable time, he observed a party of men moving along from the direction of the valley, and coming towards the canoes. He was afraid that they were Hemipo and his band.
“How will the savage treat us, and those who have been trying to aid our escape?” he thought. Just then he caught sight of another and very much larger party coming from nearly the opposite direction. The first stopped and seemed trying to hide themselves behind some rocks and bushes, but the others had seen them, and uttering loud cries, rushed forward, then came the flashes and rattle of musketry, with reiterated cries for a few minutes, when the smaller party giving way, attempted to fly, but were quickly surrounded. The people in the canoes, on seeing this, shoved off from the bank, and endeavoured to drag Waihoura’s canoe with them. The crew resisted; a blow on his head, however, struck down one of the men, and it appeared too probable that their enemies would succeed in their object.
They had got out into the middle of the stream, when several more canoes were seen rounding a point below them. Waihoura uttered a loud cry, and the canoes came rapidly paddling towards them. Their captors, on seeing this, allowed her to go free, and began making their way as fast as they could up the river.
“Who are you?” asked Waihoura, as the strangers’ canoes approached.
“We are Rahana’s people, and he ordered us to come here to stop Hemipo from descending the river, while he proceeded on by land,” was the answer.
“Then it is Rahana who has gained the victory,” exclaimed Waihoura, and, escorted by her friends, she guided her canoe towards the shore, Harry taking the paddle of the poor man who had been struck down. They quickly landed, when a messenger despatched to Rahana brought him to where Waihoura and her English companions were seated on some rocks by the bank of the river. He spoke earnestly for a few minutes to Waihoura. Lucy, from what he said, learned that she had sent to ask his assistance, and that ascertaining the proceedings of Hemipo, he had set out with all his followers to meet him and compel him to restore the prisoners he had carried off.
“He and many of his people are now in my hands, for before they could escape we surrounded them and captured them all,” he said, addressing Lucy and Harry. “They deserve death,—do you wish that we should kill them, or give them into the hands of your countrymen?”
“Oh no, no, spare their lives,” exclaimed Lucy. “We should do good to our enemies, and we would far rather let them go free. We are thankful to have been rescued from their power, but more than that we do not desire.”