Page:Tales-of-Banks-Peninsula Jacobson 2ed 1893 cropped.pdf/93

the alarm, and as he, in common with the Maori inhabitants of the Peninsula, lived in constant dread of being surprised by Rauparaha and his northern warriors, he vowed to punish me in such a way as would deter any other Maori from copying my example. Whereupon he took the head out of an empty oil cask, placed food and water in it, and then put me into it and fastened the lid. The only air and light I could get was through the bung-hole. Here I have been kept for many weeks, never allowed to get out, or to have my cell cleaned, the head of the cask being occasionally removed, when it was necessary to supply me with food and water. Having heard my cousin’s piteous tale, I told him a plan I had devised for securing his escape, since Hempleman positively refused to let him go. I said that when he felt a little stronger he should ask to be allowed to join a boat’s crew; and as it was the practice for the crews to pull out to sea very often, on returning to land somewhere along the shores of the bay he would soon have an opportunity of getting into the woods unobserved. When once clear of the station he was to make for a particular point opposite Onuku, and there light a fire. Having given him these instructions, and seeing that he was fast recovering from the effects of his confinement in such cramped quarters, I returned home. Not long afterwards I observed the smoke of the signal fire agreed upon between us, and at once paddled my canoe over to meet the fugitive. I learnt from him that he owed his liberty to having acted on my advice. At first we feared pursuit, but Hempleman took no further notice of the matter, and we afterwards met as very good friends.”