General Cameron preferred the more slap-dash course of taking entrenchments by assault.  A stubborn fight took place at Rangiriri, where the Maoris made a stand on a neck of land between the lake and the Waikato River.  Assaulted on two sides, they were quickly driven from all their pits and earthworks except one large central redoubt.  Three times our men were sent at this, and three times, despite a fine display of courage, they were flung back with loss.  The bravest soldier cannot—­without wings—­surmount a bank which rises eighteen feet sheer from the bottom of a broad ditch.  This was seen next day.  The attack ceased at nightfall.  During the dark hours the redoubt’s defenders yelled defiance, but next morning they surrendered, and, marching out, a hundred and eighty-three laid down their arms.  Our loss was one hundred and thirty-two killed and wounded; the Maori loss was fifty killed, wounded unknown.  By January, General Cameron had passed beyond Ngaruawahia, the village which had been the Maori King’s head-quarters, and which stood at the fine river-junction where the brown, sluggish Waipa loses its name and waters in the light-green volume of the swifter Waikato.  Twice the English beat the enemy in the triangle between the rivers.  A third encounter was signalised by the most heroic incident in the Colony’s history.  Some three hundred Maoris were shut up in entrenchments at a place called Orakau.  Without food, except a few raw potatoes; without water; pounded at by our artillery, and under a hail of rifle bullets and hand grenades; unsuccessfully assaulted no less than five times—­they held out for three days, though completely surrounded.  General Cameron humanely sent a flag of truce inviting them to surrender honourably.  To this they made the ever-famous reply, “Enough!  We fight right on, for ever!” (Heoi ano!  Ka whawhai tonu, ake, ake, ake.) Then the General offered to let the women come out, and the answer was, “The women will fight as well as we.”  At length, on the afternoon of the third day, the garrison assembling in a body charged at quick march right through the English lines, fairly jumping (according to one account) over the heads of the men of the Fortieth Regiment as they lay behind a bank.  So unexpected and amazing was their charge, that they would have got away with but slight loss had they not, when outside the lines, been headed and confronted by a force of colonial rangers and cavalry.  Half of them fell; the remainder, including the celebrated war-chief Rewi, got clear away.  The earthworks and the victory remained with us, but the glory of the engagement lay with those whose message of “Ake, ake, ake,” will never be forgotten in New Zealand.

[Illustration:  REWI, THE WAIKATO LEADER

Photo by J. MARTIN, Auckland.]