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Chapter XVIII. Breaking the Web.

Palliser waited for some moments, but heard no noise; the Maori had disappeared, wriggling into the brushwood, and all was still. Presently, under the influence of a strong wonder, he went forward to the part of the wall where the native had been standing. Here, by peering into the chalk, he could discern figurings similar to those Te Katipo had shown him further down. There was an alpha and an epsilon, and what appeared an unfinished beta. It was this last that arrested Palliser's attention, and made him strain so long into the dim obscurity of that solitary place. For the tail of the beta was incomplete, and the chalk seemed to have been freshly cut. Marvellous as was the hypothesis, he was forced to the conclusion that the Maori had been scraping out the letter when he was interrupted. It was so preposterous a presumption that he thrust it from him with ridicule, but again it was borne in upon him by the stream of evidence. What was Tutanga's business here in a spot bearing no relation to his camp duties? What other inference was possible than some mysterious connection between the presence page 282of the Maori in an unwonted place, and this half-cut letter on the wall? Then, too, there was the noise in the afternoon, and the head that dodged among the bushes. In spite of Te Katipo's assurance that a pig was responsible for the disturbance, Palliser trusted his own eyes, which had never failed him yet. So bewildered and confused was he by all the circumstances of this strange affair, that be went back to Puketea alert and cautious, suspicious of a universal mystery. Almost the first man he ran against in the pah was Foster, blazing with excitement.

"I have some rare news for you, my master," said he, plucking at Palliser's arm.

"I, too, have news," said the latter eagerly. "What is it?"

"Almighty Taipo!" said the ranger, sweeping his arm heavily across his mouth, "this Te Katipo of yours has been playing us a fine trick."

"Well?" said Palliser impatiently.

"Listen," quoth Foster mysteriously. "Those tales from the coast ain't far wrong. I've seen Matuku."

"Matuku? Has he escaped from Kaimoana's people?"

"'Sh!" whispered Foster. "Though there's no English spoken here, it's just as well to be careful. Come round to the whare."

In the whare they found Ida seated upon a mat looking blankly at the wall. She turned as they entered, and Palliser caught a look of weariness in her face.

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"Are you tired of this?" he said kindly.

She smiled in answer, but Foster broke in.

"Oh, we've got to make a move pretty smartly. Tired? 1 should think so, and so am I; suffocated with the infernal place. Look here," he continued, addressing Palliser; "there's something bad going on here. Matuku can tell you all about it."

"Well, what of him?"

"It ain't Kaimoana's been troubling him," said Foster, sinking his voice; "it's your high and mighty friend, the Hauhau. This afternoon I took a stroll through the Maniapoto camp, and smoked a pipe on the cliff. I hadn't been there more than ten minutes—I was looking out for the old thief Kaimoaua—when I heard a voice by me, and turning, I saw Matuku with devil work on his face. He was looking pretty bad, I tell you. 'Where the blazes have you been?' said I. 'Under guard,' says he, 'by Hauhau orders.' Then he starts on a long story of the whole business, much of which I couldn't get at because of the lingo. But I made out enough to know this, that there's been hell to pay with our Maoris by Te Katipo's instructions, and Matuku warned me against the rip, saying you were a fool to trust him. His advice was to cut, and it's what we've got to do, or I ain't the judge of a thief."

"Where is Matuku?" asked Palliser.

"In hiding among the Maniapotos, where he says he'll be safe enough, for they daren't molest him. Tribal etiquette and all that. Now, then, chief, strike up, and come to the real tune."

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Palliser glanced rapidly round the whare, and, opening the door, looked out.

"Yes," he said, coming back, "we've had about enough of this. What it all means I don't know—can't even guess. But there's some pretty mystery at the bottom, and we don't want any more mysteries. I've seen enough to-day to make me wonder a bit. This man may be a great statesman; he maybe a high-minded nigger; he may mean us well (I don't quite see what else he can have meant by his treatment of us), but I'm not going to be mixed in another mystery. We've bad enough to last our time. We'd better quit. Besides, it's no use being here eternally; we're all tired of it, and we can't be dependent on the whim of a nigger. No, we'd better quit."

"Then the orders?" inquired Foster.

"Take back parole. We can't play the Pakeha sneak, even supposing we are not being watched. Take back parole, and break out of the pah."

"Bully, old chap," cried Foster excitedly, slapping him on the shoulder.

"'S-s-h!" said Palliser, holding up a hand.

A light step sounded outside, and the door opening, admitted Te Katipo, who advanced to them smiling.

"The Pakeha girl has a pleasant home," he said, nodding approvingly at the gaily-coloured mats with which Ida had adorned the walls.

"A cage," said Palliser, "may be pleasant; but the bird will fly away if the doors be open."

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"A man is different from a bird," returned the chief curtly.

"I do not think so," returned Palliser. "For you must know, Te Katipo, we have grown tired of the trap which our own words have made. We wish to be rid of it."

Te Katipo looked at them furtively, and Palliser found all at once a new interpretation of the man's character. The gleaming restless eyes seemed to him now of unfathomable craft.

"So you mean," said the chief, "that you will take back your word?"

"Even so."

A fierce black expression flashed like a spectre across the keen naked face, and the Hauhau turned in a second and strode quickly out of the hut. They heard his voice ringing out, and other voices answering. The three looked at each other in silence. In a few minutes the Maori returned, and behold, his wrath bad passed, and be grinned cheerfully upon them.

"Why do you act in this foolish manner?" be asked. "Is it pleasant to be locked up? Do you find Puketea tiresome?"

"We no longer promise," said Palliser, "You have treated us well, but we are tired of the trap."

"The Pakeha is not always wise," returned Te Katipo. "He is cunning, but the walls of Puketea are sleep."

"Nevertheless, we will try."

"Good," said the Maori. "In a few days you will be tired."

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He went to the door and called to his men, and shortly half a dozen entered the whare.

"Take them," he said. "Leave the woman here. Take the big man to the whare of Wahapuku, and the other to the empty whare on the cliff."

"We are to be separated," said Palliser. "Miss Caryll, I am sorry for this, but if anything is wrong we can regain our liberty by once more giving parole."

"I am not afraid," she answered. "We will escape yet."

A Maori touched Palliser on the shoulder.

"Good-bye," he whispered. "I will come to you soon."

"Yes; come," she said. "I will wait."

Te Katipo left the whare and the men followed, their two prisoners in their midst. Palliser was marched off to a hut hard by the Maniapoto camp, into which he was thrust hastily; then the door was blocked, and he could hear the tramp of armed men without. The building was perfectly dark. So far they had gained nothing by their defiance, and the chances of escape were indeed small; more especially as Te Katipo was forewarned of their intention. But Palliser was not the man to yield without a struggle, nor did he regret the step he had taken, but sat down in the darkness and began to puzzle out a plan of deliverance.

Two days of dismal monotony followed, during which he saw no one, save the woman who brought him his food, and though there were several inchoate schemes in his head, he was now doubting the possibility page 287of any proving successful. But on the afternoon of the third day Te Katipo entered.

"Salutations, O friend," said he. "Are you tired of the darkness? Is it not better to be out in the sunlight? Have you come to an end of your folly?"

Palliser looked up at him.

"No," said he curtly.

Te Katipo smiled. "It is an easy thing to say 'No,'" he said. "It is not so easy to feel 'No,' I miss our talk. You were a cheerful companion. It is better to talk with a clever Pakeha than with an ignorant Maori. Yet, my friend, you are not altogether clever, or you would not be here."

"If I am a prisoner," said Palliser, "I do not desire to talk. It is not well of you to prate to me of friendship, and keep me in Puketea."

"There are many things that are not well, but they are necessary," said the Maori sententiously. "Soon you will regret this folly, and we will have our pleasant conversations again."

So saying, he withdrew, and once more the outer world was closed to Palliser.

That evening, many hours from the fall of dusk, when the pah was in silence, and Palliser lay in a light slumber upon his mats, he awoke suddenly with a feeling that someone had touched him. He sat up, at once attentive. The darkness was impenetrable, and he could hear nothing; so that, after waiting a little, he fell back, fancying a wayward dream had found him oversensitive. Just as he was dozing again he had the same page 288impression upon his nerves, and starting forward, felt the edge of his mat quiver strenuously. In a second he was on his feet, and his hands were groping about the rude bedding. There was a slow spasmodic undulation perceptible, the strangeness of which awed him in the darkness. It flashed across him that the phenomenon was due to an earthquake, for the floor of his hut was trembling violently; but he could do nothing but grope and wonder, gathering himself vaguely to repulse a mysterious evil. Underneath the mats the earth was dissolving in his hands. He crept away wonderstruck, and waited. Presently he heard a voice calling,

"Pariha! Pariha!"

It was the voice of Matuku. He crawled forward, his heart beating with the excitement of this new discovery.

"What is it?" he whispered. "How came you here?"

Matuku chuckled softly.

"If a rat can be kept in a trap, another rat may find his way into it also. Behold, O Pakeha, I have come out of the womb of the earth."

Palliser put out a hand, and it fell upon shoulders emerging from the ground.

"Good God," he said, "the man has burrowed."

"Why, O Pariha of the wise wit, does Te Katipo befool you like a child? It was strange that you should trust the cunning chief of the Hauhaus."

"I admit my folly," said Palliser. "But why are you here?"

"A way lies out for the rat in the trap," resumed page 289the Maniapoto, "if he is careful—the way by which the Maniapoto rat entered."

"You are a brave man, and a faithful friend," said Palliser briefly, his blood flashing through his veins.

"I am the enemy of this accursed Hauhau," said the Maori. "And what I have sworn to the Pakeha, that I will do. Will he fear to go down into the womb of the earth?"

"I would go to hell out of this," muttered Palliser.

Matuku was standing waist-deep in the earth in a narrow hole; he took Palliser by the arm, drawing him nearer.

"Now, friend," he said. "Dip after me, taking my heel. Breathe through your nostrils lightly, and push hard."

He had extricated himself from the ground and was kneeling. Suddenly he put his head to the earth and wriggled.

Palliser felt him sinking, and drawing a long breath, himself slipped over the edge of the hole after him. The pit, which was so narrow that the sides scraped his face, and his feet brought lumps of earth upon him, sloped at an angle of forty-five degrees. Breathing as well as he could, Palliser struggled along the narrow channel with his hands and feet, his head now and then striking against Matuku's heels. It seemed to him an age since he had entered the passage, and he was choking and gasping in the dirt, but wrestling fiercely for life, when suddenly the hole widened, and arms were put about him, pulling him upwards. In another moment he was page 290upon the surface of the earth, puffing and spluttering, and coughing black dirt from his throat.

"Be silent," admonished Matuku. "We are not far yet. Your guard will hear us."

"Where are we?" asked Palliser, in a wheezing whisper.

"In the camp of the Maniapoto. You must get breath, for we have many dangers before us."

"How did you find me?"

"It was not a difficult matter to discover where the Pakeha was hidden. I was concealed among the Maniapoto, my kinsfolk. To Katipo dared not touch me there. I found Tinirau, my friend, living in the whare over against the whare in which Te Katipo had put the Pakeha. Of course he yielded me up his house, for he and I have been sworn friends together. Then I saw that the Pakeka's whare was watched nightly. Te Katipo is cunning; he does not want to lose the Pakeha. But he took no precautions against rats; and the ground was soft in Puketea between my whare and the whare of Pariha. Therefore, I worked like a rat. And now, O my friend—hush!" He broke off abruptly. A party of chattering Maoris went past the hut. "Friend, put thia mat around you. In the dark night you will be as a Maniapoto; for they will not look for the Pakeha when the whare is guarded."

"But the stockade?" said Palliser, who was now once more master of himself.

"We must go through the Maniapoto camp to the northern face of the pah. The Arawa has been here, and page 291is now driven back; hence they do not watch the stockade so carefully. Come."

Palliser, wrapt in a heavy mat, went forth, into the night on the heels of his deliverer. It was deep midnight, and few Maoris were astir; the pah was sunken in sleep; yet they passed one or two on their way, who took no notice of the Maniapoto and his muffled, heavy-footed companion In safety they reached the stockade upon the verge of the steep northern inclines of the hill.

"The guards are careless," whispered Matuku, "but it is useless to try the gates. We must climb. The night is dark."

In obedience to his advice, Palliser began to mount the high palisading. Matuku, being without boots, was more agile, and was soon astride the beams, and noiselessly sliding down upon the farther side into the trench. But Palliser's climbing was attended with a slight creaking, and, as he reached the top, his heel banged a little on the wood. Instantly there was a shout, and a Maori rushed under the palisading. Palliser threw himself over the rampart, scrambled out of the ditch, and went clattering down the hill at a breakneck speed, Matuku following. But the whole pah was now alive with noises, and a band of men burst out of the northern, gates, and dashed silently after the fugitives. The descent was accomplished by the two fugitives at a terrible rate, and in a remarkably brief period, considering they had no intimacy with the peculiarities of the hill. Unhappily for them, the page 292pursuers knew every inch they traversed, and, avoiding the longer spurs, had gained on them so much by the time they set foot upon the plain that only the dark served to protect them. Soon the sound of Palliser's feet dying into the distance was audible to the Hauhaus, and a cry was raised—

"To the pass! to the pass!"

Palliser dug his chin into his chest, and gripping his hands, opened out over the tussock-grass, Matuku running on his left, near to the creek. But the Maoris behind were not short-winded, and came up at a steady pace, overhauling them by degrees as they all drew together towards the mouth of the pass.

"Run! run!" cried a voice, which Palliser recognised as he whirled along. "Catch the Pakeha!"

They could not be over twenty yards behind, but they came on with little noise, and the raucous creek deafened him somewhat.

"Stop, Pariha!" shouted the voice.

Palliser drove on faster, though he tripped as he run upon the rough clumps.

"Fool, you shall be dogs' meat!"

"Matuku," gasped Palliser, as he ran, "turn off across the creek. My boots betray me. Leave me to myself."

"I have sworn to God," returned the panting Maniapoto. "I will never leave you to Te Katipo."

There was a murmur behind, the sound of voices very near, and then a shot rang out in the night. Matuku, who was running in advance of Palliser, stag-page 293gered, threw up his hands, and fell forward upon his face. With a cry of consternation, Palliser fetched up short, and bent over the Maniapoto. He lay still and quiet, half covered in the long grass.

"Fool!" shrieked the voice in his ears, "I have you again! Or will you die like the stupid Maniapoto?" Clenching his teeth and cursing bitterly, Palliser leapt over the poor body and swept with the wind over the tussocks. "You, too, will die!" shouted the voice behind him. Palliser bent forward till his body was nigh doubled upon the hip, scurrying like a startled hare through the night. Each moment he looked to hear another shot ring out, but there was no sound —only the lessening voices of the Hauhaus. One thing was plain: for whatever reason, Te Katipo desired to take him alive.

Into the pass he dashed, with the enemy straggling far behind, and, after a time, feeling exhausted and conveniently safe, hid among the black bushes in the bed of the creek till he had recovered wind again. Then, creeping from his shelter, he resumed his way, crawling from point to point in fear of the shadows, but hearing nothing of the vanished Maoris, who had indeed turned from their quarry in the most extreme distress. Bit by bit he worked through, the pass, and, at last emerging upon the further side of the hills, struck boldly by the creek into the heavy bush. In the heart of this refuge he chose a shelter till the morning, and lay down with no joyous sense of deliverance, but an overpowering chagrin at the futility of his page 294escape, accomplished at the sacrifice of a faithful life, and available in no way, as it appeared, for the rescue of the others, much less for the solution of their final problem.

In the morning, to make his safety more absolute, he retired some miles further up the creek, and there secreted himself all day, revolving plans and projects. He was in no enviable position, for, though at liberty, he had no arms, and could scarcely hope to get through to the coast without vicissitudes; while it seemed not within his means to obtain the freedom of his companions. Poor Matuku's death had brought him nothing save the knowledge of his incapacity. Deep in a hostile country, with legions upon all sides barring him from the white centres, he saw no prospect but resignation to the will of Te Katipo, whatever should be. Outside here, in no communication with the pah, he could be of no use to Miss Caryll or Foster, and was, indeed, at a grievous disadvantage in that he had now no knowledge of their movements, and no possibility of acting in concert with them. Palliser put no trust in Providence, yet, from a long experience of chances, he was aware that at intervals one and another must of necessity be opportunely favourable. But he saw no particular reason for hoping that one of these occasions was come. The more he thought, indeed, the clearer appeared the folly of his escape, the more manifest his course: Te Katipo should hold him in trust again for good or evil. This advice was the tender of all considerations, and was the more urgent when he reflected page 295that were this man, as they deposed, a devil, he might avenge himself upon the bodies of his other prisoners. Yet was this Pakeha's whole soul averse from surrender, with the futile death of the Maniapoto betwixt him and his foe. It seemed a disdainful waste of humanity to throw up the gain of this purchase, however insignificant, and return to the old position. All day he lay with these doubts and reasons, lingering in the hope of some luminous inspiration; and far into the night, upon a meagre feast of berries, he held counsel with himself, perplexed, anxious, divided, and incensed with the fierce desire of action.

As he was dismissing his recalcitrant troubles with a view to sleep, he became aware of an unexpected murmur in the night. Listening intently he heard it grow into persistent sound, and going down to the creek, he bent his ears to the water. The stream ran smoothly, curdling into eddies here and there, where the bush advanced a joint upon it. A mile or so below, a small cataract dashed between the narrows of a cloven rock, and for the moment Palliser fancied the sound he heard was from another fall above him; but it had sprung so suddenly upon the air that this was an impossible explanation. Then it flashed on him that the waters were coming down from the upper gorges, but this hypothesis, too, upon a moment's reflection, gave way, for there had been no rain for days, and the season of spring floods was over. As he stood listening to the noise, now swollen into a loud volume, and come gradually nearer, a crash of broken branches page 296resounded in the distance. Starting back from the creek he concealed himself in the hollow of a fallen pine, and waited curiously for some interpretation of these noises. Every moment brought them closer, both the noises in the bush and the sounds in the creek, and it wan not long before he was able to account for them. For presently he heard voices drawing near, and then the noise of many feet, and, looking out from his hiding-place, though he could see nothing in the darkness, he was conscious that a number of men were passing down the stream. He heard their feet puddling in and out the shallow water, as they filed by, and immediately upon this discovery he was aware of others tramping through the brake about him. Several stepped upon the pine within which he was crouching, and from the time they took in passing he judged their numbers to be considerable. When the last straggler in this small army had gone by, Palliser crawled out of his concealment, and crept quietly after them down the creek. His face was set firm to one purpose, and his heart bounded with resolve.

"Here is my chance," he muttered. "If I don't get a weapon now, all's at an end."

The host had vanished into the night, but, guided by their sounds, he gained upon them till he was come to the immediate rear of the hindermost. Here, moving stealthily, he kept away a measured distance, awaiting his opportunity. Presently he fixed his attention upon a Maori marching on the extremity of the column. He was in the company of several, but the outermost, page 297and now and then the impeding bush threw a pine or other obstacle between them, and cut them asunder, at which times he was the external margin of the flank, separate and alone. He was armed with a heavy gun, which rested across his shoulder. Palliser trod hard by in the hush upon his right, watching and listening eagerly, hut the file was too compact to furnish him the hope of a, successful assault. For a full mile they marched, the tracker and the tracked, without a chance falling to the former, till at last he grew weary and impatient, and, his brow contracting blackly, he stole nearer.

"If they paes into the plain," he said to himself, "it is too late. I must take all the risks first." He had no weapon in his hands, which he held half-open at his side, and he went now with a curious elastic step, jerking from one foot to another between the bushes as he swiftly approached the outer group. The Maori he had been watching was saying something to his neighbour; he could just see the dark form ahead. He leapt a little closer. The Maori swerved out of the direct line to avoid a karaka-tree.

"It's five hundred to one," thought Palliser. "Now!" He made a quick, sure, noiseless bound forward, and in a moment his hands were upon the Maori's throat, who gasped, flung out his arms and, tottering backwards, fell silently into the ferns. Palliser was at once upon his chest, and, pinning his arms with his knees, he crushed hard upon the windpipe. The native's struggles grew fainter, and he was plainly yielding to slow suffo-page 298cation when of a sudden the report of a gun rang out at Palliser's side, filling the quiet night with abrupt sound. Glancing round, he saw the explanation of this woeful misfortune; for the Maori's gun had fallen half under him, and the trigger fortuitously to his hand, which, groping blindly in his writhing, had clutched and pulled it. The man's companions, who were but a little in advance, at once came rushing back, and almost ere he realised he was undone, Palliser was surrounded. He was dragged furiously from his choking victim, and a dozen voices cried for his blood, though they saw nothing of him in the darkness. He felt the muzzle of a gun at his breast; then suddenly he started as a word struck upon his ear.

"Stop!" he cried. "It is a mistake."

"What!" said the man who held him, in astonishment— "Pakeha?"

"And you," said Palliser, "are Arawas?"