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The bloom of enthusiasm had worn off the religious revival at Rivermouth; there had even been a considerable backsliding. As a fire cannot be kept going without fuel, so an enthusiasm of this nature fails when the supply of converts is exhausted. The Maoris were the first to drop off; singly and in twos and threes they retired yawning and in search of fresh excitement. The band seceded in a body. It was in this way.

One of its prominent members having occasion to visit the Kaipara chanced on the farewelling of a contingent on its way to South Africa. The little town of Helensville was lavishly decorated in honour of the event. The heroes of the hour (six in number) were being triumphantly conducted to the railway station amid the cheers of the crowd and the braying of the local brass band.

What was that martial, that divine air? The dusky bandsman’s heart bounded in his breast. He also was a patriot. He also was prepared to meet the hereditary foe Kruger in single combat. Great feelings entail action.