their forest-path of obstructions and smooth their way:
"Wahi taratara ei,
Me tuku ki te Ariki
Kia taoro atu ei,
Nga pukepuke i noa."
Away through the bush they tramped, lightening the march with Hauhau chants, until their objective as neared—the little redoubt of Turuturu-Mokai.
One word of warning Titokowaru had given the Tekau-ma-rua when he chose them for this expedition. Kimble Bent, squatting with his fellows in the big house, had watched the divination-by-taiaha and the demon-like red tongue of the high priest's sacred weapon turning now to one silent warrior, now to another. He heard Titokowaru's injunction to the chosen of the war-god:
"Kaua e haere ki te kuwaha o te pa; kei reira te raiana e tu ana! Ka pokanoa koutou, ka ngaua te raiana ia koutou!" ("Do not charge at the gate way of the fort; there stands the lion! Should you disregard this command, the lion will devour you!")
This caution was designed to restrain the more impetuous of the young warriors, for Titokowaru was a crafty general, and did not believe in wasting good fighting-men. He had learned by dear experience at Sentry Hill in 1864 that to dash straight and blindly at the foe, though valiant enough, was not always sound tactics.
