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 instinct. She sat still and waited on her hill-top as her forefathers had sat still on theirs, and waited for the prey. Soon it came; a little breathless, and with footsteps slackening naturally as they neared the brow, just as Pipi had foreseen. Yes, she would do, this pakeha, this pigeon; she would pay to be plucked. She was nicely dark and stout; she smiled to herself as she walked; and such good clothes upon the back denoted certainly a comfortable supply of hikapeni (sixpences) in the pocket.

“''Tenakoe! Tenakoe!” (greeting!) cried Pipi, skipping up from her bank with a splendid assumption of agility, as the stranger came alongside; and extending her hand, expanding her smile, and wagging her wily old head, as if this strange young pakeha'' were her very dearest friend in all the world. And the bait took! The pakeha, too, stretched forth her hand, she, also, smiled. A catch, a catch to Pipi the fisher! Let us, though, find out first how much she knows, this fish Not to speak the Maori tongue means not to read the Maori mind, so:

“E hoa!” says Pipi leisurely, “E haere ana koe i whaea?”

Good! it is all right. The pakeha stands still, laughs, and says, “Oh, please say it in English!”

She is ignorant, she is affable, she is not in a hurry. She will do, this nice young pakeha! Pipi translates.

“Where you goin’?”

“I am going—oh, just along this road for a bit,” says the girl vaguely.

Pipi considers. “Along the road,” in the stranger’s present direction, means back towards home for Pipi; it would surely be a pity to turn