to perform our ablutions, and refresh ourselves after the toil and dust of the long march. Some of the natives did the same, with a sort of conscious pride producing soap and combs for their hair, one dandy exhibiting a small bottle of scent. Near the houses were cows and pigs. We were then invited to enter the principal house, some forty feet in length, and of good width, all of it consisting of one room only. The floor was laid in places with flax-woven mats, on the hardened clay, intended for us, and used also by themselves, as in ordinary they never use chairs or tables, but squat on the ground for their meals, and for rest and talk. A plentiful repast was provided, of a kind,—boiled pork, steamed potatoes, no bread, or salt or mustard; biscuits, no tea, but plenty of hot milk. With native courtesy, when the women had brought in the food, the men with them all left the house, to allow the Pakeha to eat by themselves, recognizing that their guests were "Rangitiras," i.e. men of birth and rank, and treating us as they would treat their own chiefs and principal men,—in this respect Maori etiquette is strong, as between father and son, and persons of rank and others. Presently some came in to know whether we had finished our meal, and then the room was made ready for a service.
It is their custom, in all their meetings, whether for ordinary discussion, of which they are fond, of matters which are of general interest to the community, or for religious service, to sit on the ground on mats, leaving a clear space in the centre of the room for the speakers to stand, and now and then walk about whilst addressing the audience. So, with the Bishop, we stood during the service. He used English, which they understand fairly well, in his sermon, whilst the
