Don could not even then help thinking that Ngati might have said the same, but he did not lose a moment.

It was a leave-taking of his favourite warrior; for the Ngati Kuri were fated to die to a man on the next land they trod.

He said no more on the subject, for just then Ngati rose, and carefully drew the bag of eggs from the boiling pool.

Ngati spoke again, and then struck his fist into his hand with a look of rage and despair.