  With their usual lack of humour, the Germans fondly imagined that they would yet be able to get some valuable information out of the "unsuspecting" native of New Zealand; for he seemed so agreeable and talkative! Little did those self-conceited Teutons understand the Maoris! This being so, Henare was allowed a certain amount of liberty to ramble about within a given area—well behind the lines. Two weeks after his capture a most astounding thing happened—as if it had been long cut and dried. During a semi-bright moonlight night a British plane "Hey! Don't shoot! Me te Pritis prisoner." "Be the saints," came the reply, "Yez don't look much like a prisoner! Phat the mischief are yez doing here?" With that they both jumped into the plane, fixed the straps, and flew away. Only just in time, however, for bullets and shells soon began once more to liven things up. The plane dived, and swooped, and looped the loop until Henare thought his woolly head would drop off. They then had a safe run for an hour, but just as the aeroplane was crossing the German lines she was winged and had to descend in No-Man's-Land. Enemy searchlights soon discovered where they landed, and shells started to dance and sing all around them. The two men left the machine just before it was blown to pieces. They hid for awhile in a crater, until the welcome sound of a tank was heard. Presently she was seen lumbering along in the moonlight. Henare and the Irish airman made for her When the back door opened a voice called out: "Weel naw, an' who might ye be?" The Irishman answered: "We're just lookin' for a bhuss to carry us back to the loines." They had not travelled—or lumbered—far when the old tank tumbled headfirst into a deep shell-hole. With difficulty they all crawled out and had a good look at the undignified position of H.M.L.S. with her nose fast in the mud. Each one of them said a few simple words suitable to the occasion. Henare's contribution was—"Py cripes! she can buck worse'n te wild Maori hoss." There was nothing for it now but to walk. The enemy shelling became so fierce that the wanderers separated and dodged along—each man for himself—hiding here and there, and sheltering from time to time in large craters. Dead and dying men were lying about in all directions—giving evidence Searchlights were on him nearly all the time, while bullets whistled past him and shells ploughed up the ground. He still pegged away at his noble work, until a bullet found him as he was bringing in his twentieth man—an English Captain. He had just managed to roll into the crater with his burden and then collapsed. The Red Cross picked them all up the next afternoon. Henare was in the hospital when he came to. He was staring wildly Yes! it was Wiremu all right. He had finally enlisted and the military training had made a man of him. In a desperate battle Wiremu was badly wounded, and was one of the first men that Henare had carried to the crater. When Henare had got over the shock of meeting Wiremu, he asked after Kiri. "Oh, she all right Henare, when I left Noo Zealan. She no forget you. She te brick." |
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