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they were inquisitive, always wanting to know their guest’s name, whence he came, and whither he was going, etc. As an evidence of their loyalty to anyone under their protection, the following incident may be recorded:—In the “forties” a runaway sailor shot the mate of a French whaling ship, killing him on the spot. Fleeing to Pigeon Bay he sought shelter amongst the Maoris to whom he gave his gun as a kind of solatium. The Maoris agreed to keep him in hiding and feed him until a whaling vessel called, by which he purposed to escape. It was this man’s custom, for greater security, to hide himself in the bush during the day. We, as children, used to see him go there occasionally at daylight.
The Magistrate at Akaroa (Mr. J. Watson) getting some evidence of his whereabouts, came over to Pigeon Bay after dark, accompanied by a constable to effect his arrest. They put up at my father’s house, and before daylight the following morning Mr. Watson swore in my father, his nephew, Mr. John Hay, and one Toby Green as special constables. Taking a boat they slipped over to the Maori Pah before daylight, and proceeded to search every wharé for the
