“Well, well,” said the old man, rubbing his chin reflectively, “I was just another in my day. I might have become even more famous than I am, if that were possible, but I allowed myself to become side-tracked. One of my wives got me interested in growing hue (gourds). Every time I went out on a little fighting expedition I got home to find I had missed the most interesting point in one of my experiments.” “You don't say?” remarked Tamahae, without much interest. “What was your weapon?” “Patu,” said the old man, shortly. “As I was about to tell you, I got the idea that if I took a bud from a good strain and ….” “I daresay,” interrupted Tamahae. “What type of patu did you favour?” “Greenstone,” replied the old man. “But not for its snob value. I found that it kept its edge better than onewa, which is inclined to chip. Whalebone, of course, has its points, but I found it liable to warp when twisted under strain. Now, getting back to those experiments in budding …” “Why?” persisted Tamahae, “why would you want to twist a patu under strain?” “Because,” said the old man, who was getting a bit sour at being interrupted in his story of his experiments with the hue, “because, in the days before I discovered what a waste of time all this fighting was, I spent some time to perfecting a thrust to the temple, a little trick of which you may have heard. You strike just above the right ear, with the blade of the patu held parallel to the ground. If you hit at the right place, with the right strength, you can lift the whole top of the skull with a flick of the wrist. Pretty; but only really successful with a greenstone mere. Nowadays, however, I devote my time to more important things. For instance this grafting process …” “Ah!” Tamahae regarded the old man with increased respect. “You must, indeed, be none other than Te Putangamaiiro. I have indeed heard of that thrust.” “I am he,” admitted the old chief, “As a result of these grafts I perfected I managed to breed a hue which grows so big that it is the largest obtainable receptacle for the preserving of rats, pigeons or tui. But you must be careful when tying the bud into the graft ….” “You should speak to my brother, Kaiaio, about these things,” Tamahae told him. “As for me, my only interest in food receptacles is in the emptying of them. If, however, you care to demonstrate your thrust to me, I have a slave or two whom I could easily spare.” But the old man had lost interest in weapons and warfare and turned to asking Tamahae about the experiments his brother Kaiaio was making with kumara. Tamahae became bored and soon they parted. On his way down the coast from his home at Te Kaha Tamahae had passed unmolested through the territory of Ngati Porou, having concluded non-aggression pacts with Rerekohu of Waiapa and with Konohe of Uawa. His initial friendly relations with some of the chiefs of Turanga led him to expect that he would be given free passage through the territory of Rongo Whakaata and Aitangaamahaki tribes, so that he was somewhat surprised when, on the morning following his discussions with Te Putangamaiiro, he found his progress blocked by a large force of warriors of the Ngai Tawhiri, a sub-tribe of Rongo Whakaata.

THE UNKNOWN GIANT When I say he was surprised, you must not understand that he was taken unawares. Any Maori or party of Maoris travelling through the territory of another tribe had constantly to be on the alert for hostility. Tamahae, on this occasion however, appears to have been taken somewhat less prepared than his usual wont. The Ngai Tawhiri attacked from ambush and the Whanau Apanui contingent were put to it to hold their own. The main brunt of the Ngai Tawhiri attack seemed to centre round a gigantic man easily picked out, not only from his size and his adept use of his taiaha, but also from the fact that he was extremely light in colour, so as to be almost an albino. This huge warrior carried all before him and one after another of Tamahae's stalwarts went down before the deadly stroke of his