CHAPTER V. ZOOLOGY.
[Image of page 134]
CHAPTER V.
ZOOLOGY.
ALTHOUGH an account of the fauna of New Zealand is not likely to excite in the reader the same emotions which are created by the perusal of adventures in other wild regions of the world, the observations on zoology which I was able to collect during my journey may nevertheless be found not altogether devoid of interest.
The fact that no poisonous or ferocious animals exist, so that the traveller can lie down both during the day and night without the slightest fear in this respect, added to its fine climate, justifies me in stating that this country is eminently suited to the European settler. Often during the long winter nights, whilst sitting round our camp fire, and during the day, whilst wading through swamps and rivers, and scrambling through forest and jungle, we felt great comfort in the knowledge that we had nothing to fear either from insidious snakes coiled beneath our feet, or from ferocious animals in ambush, ready to make their deadly spring. My observations will therefore be of a very peaceful nature; and I must hope that in depicting the quiet life of the harmless inhabitants of the wild regions through which I passed, I shall be able to invest with some degree of interest the solitude of its primeval plains and forests.
Of the Mammalia I have very little to say, because, with the exception of those belonging to the family Phocidae, there is scarcely anything to observe. I had, in fact, no opportunity, whilst travelling round the coast, of seeing any of these animals; but Mr. John Rochfort, who preceded me by a few weeks, killed a sea bear (Ursina marina), seven feet long, which, with its female, was found near Te-ana-o-Matuku, lying amongst huge masses of rock, which can only be reached from the shore at low water spring tides. Seals, as the natives assured me, have almost deserted the coast, and it is but rarely that they are met with, although at one time they were very numerous in its more rocky parts.
In several works I have seen allusion made to a quadruped supposed to exist in the lakes of this island, and which, from descrip-
[Image of page 135]
tion, must heave been closely allied to the beaver (castor). Indeed one person, who had often been at the Roto-iti, assured me that the existence of such an animal there was certain; but, although I searched very closely, I was unable to detect any indications either of its tracks or dams, or indeed any other signs of its existence. One circumstance, however, leads me to believe that the lake is inhabited by an animal not yet known. One night we had fastened the results of our fishing, consisting, perhaps, of twenty pounds of eels, to a fishing line, and laid them in the water near the margin of the lake, in order to keep them fresh. One of my men suddenly heard a great splash, and, running down to the water, found that the eels had been dragged out, and that but for the fact that the line was fastened round a large stone, they would have been carried off altogether. I am unable to say whether a very large eel might not be strong enough to have done this; but, if not, we must suppose that there exists in the lake another fish or animal of which we as yet know nothing. It cannot, however, belong to the family castor, which feed only on bark; but it may probably be another member of the order Rodentia. I relate this circumstance in order to draw attention to the subject.
The native rat (Mus rattus) is the only known indigenous land quadruped; but although it is said that in some places it still exists in large numbers, I was unable to find any. Its place has been taken by the English rat, by which it has been nearly extirpated. Living principally on berries, it was formerly highly prized by the natives as food. It has become a common saying among the Maories, that as the English rat (kiore Pakeha) has destroyed the native rat, so in time will the Maori vanish before the white man. These English rats are to be met with everywhere. They seldom find the traveller during the first night, but if he remain any longer in the same place, these unwelcome guests at once make their appearance, and disturb his rest. Generally speaking, nothing is safe from them. They are remarkably fond of bacon: it is singular enough that they do not touch flour, contenting themselves merely with destroying the bags in which it is contained. They tried shot, in which the marks of their teeth were found. Some of them grow to a size far beyond anything I ever saw in Europe.
In the open plains dogs are found, but they are not numerous; the tracks we saw indicated that they belonged to a large breed. One which I saw at the Mawhera-iti was nothing but a mongrel, such as are generally found in the native pahs. The old native dog (kuri) seems to be extinct.
As far as I could observe, no flying animals, except the Scotophilus tuberculatus and Mystacina tuberculata, exist in the country traversed by me.
It is well known to the settlers of the province how abundant
[Image of page 136]
wild pigs are on the eastern side of the central chain, so that in some places, as in the Wangapeka valley, for instance, they have uprooted large tracts of country. It is therefore surprising that, although they would find no difficulty in passing through the Devil's Grip, not a single pig is to he found in the Buller, or in the meridional fissure, or indeed in any part of the Grey district. In former years the natives on the West Coast had some pigs, which they allowed to feed round their habitations; but, fearing that they would destroy the fern root, upon which they depended principally for food, they killed them all. In order to show how abundant these wild pigs are in some parts of the country, I may mention the fact, that a party of three men killed, in twenty months, and within an area of 250,000 acres, no less than 25,000, under a contract, and that they offered to take another contract to kill 15,000 more upon the same ground. In the open country near Mount Murchison, on the Buller, we met with numerous tracks of wild cattle, which probably came down in former years from the Roto-iti valley, through the Devil's Grip.
The only living objects, therefore, which give animation to these solitudes are birds. Amongst them we may assign the first place to the white crane (Herodias flavirostris). This magnificent bird lives principally in the plains, where the rivers, flowing over shallow shingly beds, afford it sufficient opportunities of fishing. Sometimes it is observed sitting motionless on the top of a high tree, near the water's edge, and it is really beautiful to see its graceful form and snow white plumage sharply defined against the deep blue sky. It is very difficult to approach it, as it is very shy, and takes to the wing at the least noise. The Botaurus melanotus, the bittern, and the grey crane (Herodias matuku), are also occasionally met with.
In the plains, too, we find large numbers of Paradise duck (Casarca variegata), generally in pairs together, but sometimes in large flocks, breaking the stillness of the scene by their shrill cries. The most abundant member of the family Anatidae, however, is the whio, the blue duck of the settlers (Anas malacorynchus). It is found in all the rivers, and is easily killed. It appears to prefer shady places and the deep pools formed in the gorges of the streams and rivers, but is also found in the plains.
In the open districts, and on the outskirts of the forests, we also find two members of the Falconidae family. The largest of them, the Falco harpe, is a stupid bird, remaining quietly perched on a branch whilst the traveller approaches. It is not so bold and pugnacious as the smaller, Falco brunnea, which is frequently met with, and which, whilst rearing its young ones, fearlessly attacks any intruder who may happen to come near its nest. One day, walking along near the margin of the forest in Camp valley, my hat was suddenly knocked off my head, and at the
[Image of page 137]
same time I heard a shrill cry. On looking up, I found it was one of these courageous little sparrow-hawks which had attacked me, and which, after sitting for a moment or two on a branch again pounced on me, and although I had a long compass stick in my hand, with which I tried to knock it down, it repeated its attack several times. The presence of my whole party even did not intimidate them, and they frequently exhibited their courage by attacking us.
We met with another instance of the courage of these birds in the Matakitaki plains. A white crane of large size standing in the water was attacked by three of them at once, and they made frequent and well concerted charges upon him from different quarters. It was admirable to behold the kotuku (white crane), with his head laid back, darting his pointed beak at his foes with the swiftness of an arrow, whilst they, with the utmost agility, avoided the spear of their strong adversary, whom at last they were fain to leave to fish unmolested. Another day a cormorant (Graucalus varius) passing in the same neighbourhood near a tree, on which two of these sparrow-hawks were sitting, they instantly pounced upon him, putting him to hasty flight with a shrill cry of terror, followed closely by his smaller but fierce foes, and all three were soon out of sight.
In speaking of the cormorants, I may add that there are several species which exist all along the rivers and sea coast. They are capital fishers, and one day I was witness how well they understood how to procure their food. It was near the spot where one of the northern spurs of Mount Murchison slopes down to the Buller, which here forms small falls and rapids. A cormorant was standing on an isolated rock, round which the foaming water dashed down, and I was not a little surprised to see him jump down into the white foam. In the first instance I thought he would not get out again, but would be dashed to death by the whirling waters; but soon he reappeared, swimming rapidly towards the edge, and then flying on to his old observatory to continue his sport. It is probable that small fishes are taken down by the falls, and, being stunned by the force of the water, are easily caught by the courageous bird. A new proof that nature has given to every animal the necessary physical strength to contend with the elements in which it has to look for its subsistence.
The quail (Cotornix, N. S.) is still very abundant upon the grassy plains of the interior; at every moment it is met with rising close to the foot of the traveller, and it is perhaps the best sign that not many dogs exist there, as they would otherwise have been already destroyed. But amongst all the birds which I met with none is in so great numbers as the weka (Ocydromus Australis), belonging to the family Rallidae, and commonly called the woodhen. It is found everywhere on the grassy plains and
[Image of page 138]
in the forest, as well as near the summits of the mountains amongst the sub-Alpine vegetation. It is omnivorous, and seems to me to be the true scavenger of the country. It despises nothing. Bread, flour, bacon, yellow soap, and even the remains of its own kindred, are greedily devoured. They quickly find out a camp, where their instinct leads them in search of food.
The woods resound with their call, which consists of two notes in the octave, of which the lowest is the first given. We caught a great many, as a valuable addition to our stock of provisions. The capture is generally made by the means of a flax snare at the end of a stick, keeping behind it a smaller bird, at which they run pugnaciously, and even when there is no time to take them in this way, no small bird being at hand, they come to the snare, attracted by a branch rustled on the ground behind it, accompanied by an imitation of the notes of one of the smaller birds. We have even caught them with the hand, by simply exhibiting a dead robin. The weka lays four to five eggs, yellowish white, with chocolate-coloured spots, of the size of a fowl's egg, in a nest prepared rudely with a few dead leaves and dry grass in a flax bush. It breeds in the months of November and December, like all the other birds of New Zealand, with the exception of the kaka (Nestor meridionalis), which breeds only at the end of summer, say at the end of February and beginning of March. The weka has great affection for its young ones, and it was often with the aid of one of them, which were easily caught, that we secured the parents, a note of distress from the young bird invariably bringing the old ones to its assistance, when they were easily caught in the snare held in readiness.
On the summit of the mountains I met with a very shy bird, resembling closely the plover (Charadrius), which till then I had never seen. On the lakes, besides the several inhabitants before enumerated, we found the crested grebe (Podiceps cristatus?), of which only very little is known.
Another inhabitant of the plains in former years was the kakapo (Strigops habroptilus), the night parrot; but it seems that it is now nearly extinct there, and that it has found a refuge in the wild mountain regions, unmolested by man and dog. In former years the Maruia plains were a celebrated hunting ground of the Maories for these birds, but we did not even observe their tracks in the sand or hear their call, and only in the upper Mawhera-iti have a few of late been observed.
The kakapo lives in holes burrowed in the ground, where it remains during the day, coming out in the night; it feeds on berries and roots. Although able to fly, it rarely or never takes to the wing, as the natives assured me, who in former years often hunted it. For this purpose they generally went to the plains, when the berries of the tutu (Coriaria sarmentosa) were ripe, which are a favourite food of that bird, selecting fine moonlight
[Image of page 139]
nights. They ran them down partly with dogs, or even killed them with long sticks upon the tutu bushes: another mode was when they had found out their holes, to introduce a long stick into them, to which they had fastened several strong flax snares; feeling the bird with the end of it, they began to twist the stick so as to bring some part of the bird into the snares, and thus drag it out. The call of the kakapo, heard during the night, very much resembles the gobble of the turkey.
In the forest a great variety of birds is to be observed, but it would lead me too far were I to enumerate them all. Some of them are seldom seen, but are everywhere to be found, as for instance the ruru (Athene Novae Seelandiae), the "morepork" of the settlers, the two melancholy notes of which are invariably heard one hour after sunset and one hour before sunrise.
Another inhabitant of the forest and rocky mountain sides is the kiwi (Apteryx Australis), which is still abundant in many spots, and, judging from their different calls, of various species. As unfortunately I had no dog with me, I was not able to procure any specimens of them, but, after what I could observe on the summits of Papahaua, the tracks in the snow showed me that the native description of a large kiwi, like a turkey, could not be well exaggerated.
The noisy kaka (Nestor meridionalis), plays a conspicuous role in the forest. It is a gregarious bird, perching generally on the highest trees, but as soon as the assembled flock hear a noise unknown to them they approach, amusing the traveller by their various quarrelsome notes and shrieks. If in shooting after them one only is wounded so that it may be secured, it is an easy matter to shoot one after the other, as they always come back when they hear the cry of their wounded companion.
It is true that the New Zealand songsters cannot be compared with the European singing birds, but their music has also its charms, and it is a moment of delight for the traveller to listen to the concert of all the different birds when the morning dawns. Amongst them the kakorimaka (Anthornis melanuris) is the most conspicuous. I can only compare their united tune, as Captain Cook has already done with great justness, although each Anthornis has only a few notes, to well tuned chimes, and I never was tired of listening to their morning concert, which generally ceases when the jealous kaka begins with its discordant screams. The tui (Prosthemadera Novae Seelandiae) is another songster which assists in the performance of the concerts.
Two other birds are very numerous. The first is the kakako (Callaeas cinerea), the New Zealand crow; generally a pair is together; they remain in the lower grounds, and are not frightened at men, so that they can be easily secured. Their musical although melancholy notes, which harmonize with their sable hue, resounding through the tranquil woods, give a certain charm
[Image of page 140]
to their appearance. Another and more gay fellow, belonging to the family Turdidae, is the piopio (Turnagra crassirostris), the thrush of the settlers. It is a very inquisitive and social bird, generally making its appearance as soon as the traveller halts.
The beautiful pigeon (Carpophaga Novae Seelandiae) is also abundant in the lower countries, where the vegetation does not principally consist of fagus (black birch). Where this tree is predominant the birds are not so numerous. This bird is so stupid as often to remain sitting upon a branch until the traveller has cut a long stick and passed the flax snare at the end of it round its neck. Amongst the small inhabitants is one which by its tameness always gives animation to the camp: it is the Totoara, the New Zealand robin, which is the first to welcome the explorer in the wilderness, and which remains steadily near the camp. Gravely does it look to the doings of men. I observed how strictly these robins maintained the right of priority. The second comer was always fought till he went away, and the first remained on the spot till he was killed for fishing or snaring purposes, when the second one very soon took his dangerous place. At first it is perfectly fearless, and I have seen one of them sit on my hand with which I held my paper when sketching, and pecking quietly at it.
There are still two others, which are always near the tents: the fan-tailed flycatcher, belonging to the family Muscicapidae, very fond of the neighbourhood of man, and the New Zealand wren (Certhiparus maculicandus), both never tired of flying and hopping round the tents. Of the latter I observed several species in the interior, which will prove to be undescribed.
On the sea shore, near the mouths of rivers, we again meet with the paradise duck, but the most numerous bird all along the coast is the torea (Hematopus picatus). It is pleasant to see this red-legged and billed fellow run along the shore under the crest of the waves, picking up the mollusks and small fishes which are brought by them or remain behind when they recede. At high water they generally assemble together, as there is not such good opportunity for fishing. Although rather of a fishy taste, they offer to the traveller who is in the possession of a gun sufficient material for a meal when he is in want of it.
Another interesting sea bird belonging to the gulls is the karoro, which skims rapidly over the surf, seizing the shell-fish, principally Venus intermedia, on which it lives; and, being unable to open the shells with its beak, nature has taught it another way. I observed them very often how they rose over the rocky shore, and, arriving at an altitude of 6O to 100 feet, let the shell fall so that it would break upon the rocks below.
Another bird, belonging to the gannets, is also very abundant; it has a very graceful flight, sailing high above the water on
[Image of page 141]
expanded and almost motionless wings. Perceiving its prey, it goes down like an arrow.
Of moa bones (Dinornis, &c.) I did not observe any, although the natives at the mouth of the Grey assured me that in the swamps near Lake Hochstetter a good many occur.
Of lizards I found nothing new, the specimens seen and examined having already been collected by me before at other places.
The principal, and, as I may say, the only, fish of importance in the rivers, lakes, and swamps, is the eel. We caught some nearly six feet long, and as thick as a man's thigh, weighing between twenty and twenty-five pounds. It is easily caught after dusk. Of their capacity of swallowing we had a striking instance, finding in the belly of one of them, not weighing more than twelve pounds, an entire blue duck. There are many varieties amongst them, of which I observed two principal ones. The first has a very large head and a small body, and the second a small head and a thick body. The first one is, as I have been told, confined principally to the swamps, lakes, and upper parts of rivers; and, in fact, nearly all the eels which we caught in the two lakes and in the Upper Buller were of that kind; whilst in the Middle Buller and Lower Grey the greater part belonged to the second species. At several places both kinds occurred together; so that it will be impossible to lay down a general rule as to the localities which they inhabit.
They are a very rapacious set. To relate only one case: one of my party had cleaned some kakas in a stream, and laid them down on a large boulder near its margin. He turned away for a moment, heard a splash, and, looking round, saw a good-sized eel, which had taken one of them, and was quickly out of sight.
Amongst the Mollusca, I think that everything which came within my reach round the coast has been collected and described already, unless it be a very large Chiton, which is nearly five inches long, adhering to the rocks of the Tauperi-kaka cliffs. In the pools on the rocky shores, the Haliotis Iris (mutton fish) is the principal inhabitant, growing often to a large size. In the same localities we also find sea-stars (Asterias) and sea-urchins (Echinidae).
I may add here that many of these rocky pools offered me a beautiful insight into the life of the sea anemones (Actiniae). Like magnificent flowers, they seem to blossom in the water, moving their delicate tentacles to attract prey. Who would think that these elegant forms belong to such voracious animals? Around them we meet with little groves of graceful Algae, in different colours, the whole enlivened by innumerable mollusks and annelides; an entire world in a little space; and it was often with great regret that I continued my journey, leaving these spots, which would be, for the naturalist who could devote his time to their examination, a source of delight and instruction.
The kuku (mytilus canaliculatus), the mussel, is also very
[Image of page 142]
abundant on the rocky coast, and affords to the traveller ample means of subsistence. I did not meet with the rock oyster.
In both lakes the Unio is abundant, and is very much coveted by the native for food. Beside it, adhering to the rock and to the water plants, I found species of the genera Physa, Anateira, Corniforma, and Amnicola ciliata, all well known species, besides a new one, in Roto-roa, belonging to the genus Lymnea.
Of land shells no large Helicidae came within my observation, but I collected some very fine though small specimens on mosses in the Grey plains, and another and large one on the leaves of the kiekie, near the sea, which I think are also undescribed.
Amongst the Crustacea nothing was observed by me which I had reason to think had not already been described, but the class Arachnida is one which ought some time to be carefully studied by a naturalist, because I am certain that it would be difficult to find any country in which such a variety of spiders occur as are to be observed in New Zealand. There scarcely passed a single day when I did not see new forms--red, green, brown, yellow, and black spiders; in fact, hardly a shade was unrepresented, black with red spots, red with black spots, &c., striped and mottled, belonging to many genera, and of all possible forms and sizes; some of them which I observed of so remarkable a shape, that I think it not improper to speak more fully of them.
On the huge rocks lying on the margin of Roto-iti and Roto-roa I observed a spider, belonging probably to the saltigrades, four lines long from the end of the abdomen to the beginning of the mandibles, greyish brown, the cephalo-thorax darker and mottled, running or leaping over the rocks with great rapidity in search of insects. The mandibles, instead of having the usual length, are nearly seven lines long, of a horny substance, folded inside, returning thus towards the mascillae), probably destined to catch their prey and bring it to the mouth. These mandibles stand nearly upright. After leaving the lakes I never saw this species again.
I found another very interesting spider amongst the boulders in the Tutaki, shortly after sunset. In the first instance, I thought it was a river crayfish, from its size, the animal being nearly two inches long, but on closer examination I found that I had been mistaken. I had no idea that such an enormous spider existed in New Zealand, and I called Mr. J. Mackay, then with me, and who had gone over the river to collect firewood, to hasten back. He also was quite astonished, and he told me that not only had he never seen it during his manifold explorations through the country, but even that he had never heard of it from the natives. Not one of my insect glasses was wide enough to contain it, and I was therefore obliged to let it crawl lazily away. The antennae were large, slightly curved at the end; the cephalo-thorax small, and attached to the abdomen by a thin peduncle.
[Image of page 143]
The abdomen itself was oval, and one inch and a-half long and nearly an inch broad, of a yellowish grey colour, with three brown longitudinal stripes.
Since my arrival in Nelson, Messrs. J. Rochfort and Smith having returned from an ascent of Mount Arthur, the former gentleman related to me that near the summit, under a rock partially covered with snow, they had seen a spider of enormous size; he made me a sketch of it, which coincides singularly with my own observations; a fact worth noticing, if we consider that there is a difference in altitude of at least 5,000 feet between the places where this spider has been met with.
In the forest near the Maruia plains I was once stung by a small animal, which, on examination of it in a partly crushed state, I was convinced must be a true scorpion, but of a diminutive size, two lines long. The sting, however, proved to be no worse than the bite of a mosquito, although the swelling lasted a little longer. I am not prepared to say if the animal had been in the branches collected for bedding and put in the tent, or if it issued from some rotten wood lying near it.
Amongst the Coleoptera (beetles) I found not one worth noticing particularly. I met with but few of them, and those have been already described.
A great scarcity of Lepidoptera (butterflies, &c.) was remarkable even on the grassy plains; for, with the exception of a few specimens of Vanessa Gonerilla, Cynthia Cardii, and the common Nyctemera Doubledayi, I think that there was nothing which attracted my attention. But I met with a variety of moths, for the greatest part small, but often in such immense numbers that they became troublesome.
One evening, in the middle of January, at Roto-iti, a small moth, belonging to Tineites, came into our tent, in such quantities, as night came on, that it was impossible to continue to write. They actually filled the inkstand with their bodies, put the candles out, and covered everything. The next evening we shut the tent as closely as possible, and then we were not so much molested, but they pattered against the canvas in such numbers as to give the idea of a shower of rain, and the next morning the roof was literally covered with their bodies. They became fewer when it rained the third evening, so that we could again leave the tent open to enjoy the fresh evening breeze.
Amongst the Diptera, the animal the most diffused over the whole country is the sandfly (Simulium). Although everywhere present, their principal abode is near rivers and the sea shore, where they form really a plague for the traveller. From Captain Cook to our own days, every explorer has endeavoured to describe, with strong expressions, the intensity of his sufferings from this insect torment.
Notwithstanding their minute size, their bite is painful, and
[Image of page 144]
swellings with itching are the consequence; hut I found that after some time we became less sensitive to them, and the swellings were not so large. There were places where they were really dreadful; innumerable quantities of them attack the explorer, and there is no way to protect himself. I made the observation that in the tents, during rain and shortly after rainfall, they were the most savage. Often then we were enveloped with clouds of them, and no part of the body was safe. Those of my poor companions whose clothes were torn, suffered of course much more than the others. Although their abdomen is narrow and elongated, I could not but admire how they expanded and became quite round during the process of sucking, and instead of a blackish blue colour they became transparent and red, often gorging themselves till they were unable to fly.
It seems that they are destined in the economy of nature to destroy putrid vegetable matter. Often I saw large quantities of kelp lying on the sea-shore, and arrived at a certain state of putrefaction, totally covered with them. As soon as it becomes dark they disappear, and the explorer can enjoy some rest. Their greatest foes are clearings and cultivations, and it is wonderful to observe how soon they disappear before the work of men. The Maori pah at the Grey, for instance, was in former years so infested by them, that the natives, in order to save themselves, had to build low huts with fires at the two only openings, sitting thus in the smoke; but since they began to cultivate a good portion of the land with potatoes and wheat, the sandflies have almost entirely deserted the pah. They cannot stand the cold, and I never found any in shady places in cold winter days. I observed them as high as an altitude of 2,500 feet, but never higher.
Another unwelcome guest belonging to the same order is the mosquito (Culex); but it was fortunately of very local occurrence, and we travelled often for many miles without any sign of them. I know, in fact, only three spots where they occurred in any troublesome quantity. One was a deep gully of Mount Francis, near the Matakitaki plains, and the others were in gullies of the Maruia, but although we camped very often in quite similar places, we were never molested. It is true that the natives state that the mosquito is not indigenous to New Zealand, and that it has been introduced by the Europeans; but still it will be very difficult to explain how these diptera should be found in the country traversed by me only at a few isolated spots, and far inland, and then in such large masses.
The blue-bottle fly (Larcophaga loemica) is another insect which occurs over the whole country, its presence being quickly made known by its intolerable noise. I met with it on the summits of the highest mountains which I ascended. It is suited for every degree of temperature, for I found some of them on the summit of Papahaua, flying over the snow before the sun had risen, and
[Image of page 145]
the temperature several degrees below the freezing point, not at all affected by the chilling cold which had killed many other insects on the mountains in this unusually severe winter.
The weta (Deinacrida heteracantha), belonging to the order Orthoptera, is another inhabitant of the forests or manuka groves; it is a very ugly looking animal, and often of a large size. We found them often in and near our tents, coming from the wood which we burnt, or from the collected manuka bark used for bedding. Although my men, and especially the natives, were rather afraid of them, because it is said that a bite from their strong jaws instantly draws blood, I never saw them do it, notwithstanding they had sometimes selected disagreeable spots for their retirement, as, for instance, in empty shoes.
No large myriapode came within my observation, and the few ants which we met with occasionally were never troublesome. There are none which build nests, and it seems that they form only small colonies in hollow or rotten trees. I observed many flies and other small insects in the plains as well as in the mountain regions, and a wide field is open in New Zealand for the naturalist to study the innumerable inhabitants belonging to the lower classes of animal life, which enliven the vast wildernesses of these islands.
Having been always occupied with the principal object of my mission, I could only make observations occasionally in the extensive department of natural history, and I have therefore to ask indulgence, as I give only such scanty remarks under this head. I would not have departed from the special object of my mission even so far as I have done, did I not think it would perhaps induce some naturalist to come here and make fuller investigations, which would amply repay him for his time and trouble.
