We had not been long at anchor near Motuara, before three or four canoes, filled with natives, came off to us from the S.E. side of the sound; and a brisk trade was carried on with them for the curiosities of this place.  In one of these canoes was Kahoora, whom I have already mentioned as the leader of the party who cut off the crew of the Adventure’s boat.  This was the third time he had visited us, without betraying the smallest appearance of fear.  I was ashore when he now arrived, but had got on board just as he was going away.  Omai, who had returned with me, presently pointed him out, and solicited me to shoot him.  Not satisfied with this, he addressed himself to Kahoora, threatening to be his executioner if ever he presumed to visit us again.

The New Zealander paid so little regard to these threats, that he returned the next morning with his whole family, men, women, and children, to the number of twenty and upward.  Omai was the first who acquainted me with his being along-side the ship, and desired to know if he should ask him to come on board.  I told him he might; and accordingly he introduced the chief into the cabin, saying, “There is Kahoora, kill him!” But, as if he had forgot his former threats, or were afraid that I should call upon him to perform them, he immediately retired.  In a short time, however, he returned; and seeing the chief unhurt, he expostulated with me very earnestly, saying, “Why do you not kill him?  You tell me, if a man kills another in England that he is hanged for it.  This man has killed ten, and yet you will not kill him, though many of his countrymen desire it, and it would be very good.”  Omai’s arguments, though specious enough, having no weight with me, I desired him to ask the chief why he had killed Captain Furneaux’s people?  At this question, Kahoora folded his arms, hung down his head, and looked like one caught in a trap; and I firmly believe he expected instant death.  But no sooner was he assured of his safety, than he became cheerful.  He did not, however, seem willing to give me an answer to the question that had been put to him, till I had, again and again, repeated my promise that he should not be hurt.  Then he ventured to tell us, “That one of his countrymen having brought a stone hatchet to barter, the man, to whom it was offered, took it, and would neither return it, nor give any thing for it; on which the owner of it snatched up the bread as an equivalent, and then the quarrel began.”

The remainder of Kahoora’s account of this unhappy affair, differed very little from what we had before learnt from the rest of his countrymen.  He mentioned the narrow escape he had during the fray; a musquet being levelled at him, which he avoided by skulking behind the boat; and another man, who stood close to him, was shot dead.  As soon as the musquet was discharged, he instantly seized the opportunity to attack Mr Rowe, who commanded the party, and who defended himself with his hanger, (with which he wounded Kahoora in the arm,) till he was overpowered by numbers.