It was the principle under which the wounded shark is torn to pieces by its fellows, and under which the merchant wrecked on the Cornish coast in bye-gone days was stripped of anything the waves had spared.

Among the Maoris, however, it was at once a social duty and a personal compliment.

If a man's hut caught fire his dearest friends clustered round like bees, rescued all they could from the flames, and--kept it.

It is on record that a party about to pay a friendly visit to a neighbour village were upset in their canoe as they were paddling in through the surf.

The canoe was at once claimed by the village chief--their host.