THE MAORIS. 285

“You know—you know at home we had savages once; and a
man was out chopping wood one day, and he saw Indians coming — so
Nurse Fennel told me. He knew he must go with them as their
prisoner, but he first asked a favor. He was splittmg a log with
a wedge, and would they just put their hands imto the crack and
help pull open the log? They were very willing, and put their — their
hands in, and the man knocked the wedge out. Didn’t they yell
and kick!”

“Do you think that really happened, Rick?” asked the doctor.

“Well, Nurse Fennel said something like that did happen, and
she wouldn’t tell a lie.”

After the return of the party to the Antelope, Rick thought that
he had something of interest to say to Bumble-bee, the cook. He
was absent from the sacred kitchen, and Rick smelling a nice, savory
stew in the pot, ran a big long spoon down into it, and was ladling
out a generous taste, when he heard steps. Lookmg up, he saw
Bumble-bee coming.

“What yer-rup to here?” asked Bumble-bee.

Rick was silent, and clapped his spoon behind him.

«Ah, young man, I see de stew runnin’ out ob dat spoon “hind
ye. Dat’s. allers de way. Wrong doin’ leaves a tell-tale “hind it.
T’ll forgib you, but nebber forget dat a wrong will leave a track “hind
it dat will show you up some day.”

The moral was excellent, but Rick was too absorbed in watching
Bumble-bee to think of anything else. Bumble-bee’s eyes were
rolling, and his face twisting into queer grimaces.

“Booh!” exclaimed Rick, when he was safe outside, “I know what

Bumble-bee is; he’s a Maori!”