1847 - Angas, G. F. Savage Life and Scenes in Australia and New Zealand Vol.II - CHAPTER I: JOURNEY INTO THE INTERIOR OF NEW ZEALAND--THE WAIKATO.

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SAVAGE LIFE AND SCENES

AUSTRALIA AND NEW ZEALAND.

CHAPTER I.

TRAVELLING in New Zealand is very different from travelling in Australia, where the open nature of the country enables one to ride for hundreds of miles in almost any direction: in New Zealand the traveller must go on foot, and so dense and extensive are many of the mountain forests, that he has to cut or force his way through them; whilst the frequent precipices, swamps, and rivers, offer obstacles to his progress that require some ingenuity to overcome.

Early in the spring of 1844, I set out on a journey of upwards of eight hundred miles, on foot, to explore

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various portions of the interior of the Northern Island; and in the course of my progress I became acquainted with many tribes, settled on the shores of inland lakes and amidst sequestered valleys, whose character, and existence even, are but little known to dwellers on the coast. At setting out, and for the first portion of my journey, up the Waikato river and along the western coast, I was accompanied by my friend Forsaith, one of the protectors of aborigines; who was on his way overland to Taranaki, or New Plymouth, the British settlement at the foot of Mount Egmont. But when penetrating to the interior, and visiting the districts of Mokau and the Taupo lakes, I was accompanied only by natives; and during the whole period of my sojourn with the New Zealanders, I invariably experienced both hospitality and protection. My mission amongst them was one of peace: I did not covet their land; and my coming from Europe for the purpose of representing their chiefs and their country was considered by them as a compliment. The chiefs readily acceded to my requests, and facilitated the purpose of my journey; and I was everywhere known by the title of "Te pakeha no te Kene Ingerangi,"or "The stranger from the Queen of England:" loudly and proudly did my native guides herald my approach to a kainga maori with this appellation.

The day of our starting from Auckland was calm and cloudy: not a breath of wind ruffled the wide expanse of the gulf; and as we brushed through the

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fern and heather along our onward way, the stillness was intense: the pervading silence was unbroken save by the occasional flutter of a locust, and the low rumbling, at intervals, of distant thunder. Clad in our "bush" costume, but without weapons, and each with a toko toko or long walking-staff in our hands, my fellow-traveller and myself set off in excellent spirits, accompanied by five Maori lads, who carried our baggage; this consisted of bundles of clothing, sketching apparatus, collecting boxes, a small tent, and a basket of provisions: which they severally carried in their pikau or knapsacks, strapped over their shoulders with the leaves of flax. As we passed along, our lads exchanged farewell salutations with their native friends; the latter shouting out, with a long condoling whine, "Haere ra! haera ra!"--which means, "Go, my friends! go!" This was returned by "Enoho!"-- "Remain, my friends! remain!"

Our route lay through the region of extinct volcanic craters, described in a former chapter. We skirted the low shores of the harbour of Manukao, a large but dangerous inlet from the west coast; and the view of Manukao heads, with a high peaked bluff, shut out the horizon to our right. On the banks of this harbour, is the rich and extensive farm belonging to Mr. Fairburn, who possesses an immense territory in this district. The cattle were grazing amongst the low fern, and looked remarkably sleek, and in excellent order.

From this point, we struck into one of the native

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paths, which are never wide enough for two persons to travel abreast; and after wading through several swamps and flax marshes, in which we found our long toko tokos of great assistance, we arrived at the banks of the Tamaki river. The tide being out, mud and slime covered the margin of the stream for a considerable distance, and the sight of some stout wild-ducks waddling along over these exposed flats, made us regret we had no rifle to procure a few for our supper. Here we had no alternative but to strip and ford the river, wading across the mud flats, into which we sank at every step nearly up to our middles. It was a difficult matter to get our feet out of the mire, while thousands of small crabs kept biting our legs as we toiled slowly through the sludge, rendering our situation anything but an enviable one. We at length regained the opposite shore; and after scraping the mud off our limbs with flax-leaves, we resumed our journey.

We passed several volcanic craters, with terraced sides, near which blocks of lava were piled up artificially; and many signs of ancient pahs were observable, especially vast heaps of pepi-shells that lay scattered in all directions around. The tea-tree shrub (leptospermum) was in full bloom amongst the fern; and a small flowering plant, with sharp prickly leaves, its blossom a minute white bell, exhaled a sweet spring perfume, scenting the air with its delicious fragrance: yet the tiny source of this grateful enjoyment was so concealed beneath

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the moss and fern, as to require a diligent search before its presence was discovered to the eye.

Our day's route lay through a sombre and desolate-looking region, almost without trees. The undulating country was clothed with russet fern, and bunches of flax occurred in every direction, reminding one of the aloe, which at a distance it somewhat resembles. This entire district was once the scene of intense volcanic action, to which the numerous funnel-shaped craters before mentioned acted as safety-valves. An occasional ti-tree (dracaena) gives a foreign and palm-like aspect to the swampy ground; and a small black and white moth {agarista) flutters plentifully over the fern and along the banks of bulrush and tohi tohi swamps.

Towards the close of day, we arrived at the termination of this volcanic and open district, and, on the borders of a dark forest, we descried a small clearing, with one or two huts belonging to European settlers. We tried in vain at one of the huts to procure either a kit of potatoes or some flour as food for our lads; the settlers being very poor, and potatoes exceedingly scarce, in this part of the country: the great native feasts at Auckland a few months ago had well nigh exhausted the stock, and there will be no more until the spring crop comes up. It was now sunset; and we suddenly struck into a belt of forest--a glen of profuse vegetation--through which the lingering beams of day were in vain struggling to penetrate. A break in the forest re-

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vealed to us an open space, through which a murmuring stream flowed, and the ruins of an undershot water-mill, that had never seen completion, marked the unsuccessful toil of some settler in the wild. The full moon, like an amber shield, rose over the dark wood, and its light stole through the crisp leaves of the spreading tree-ferns, making them look extremely beautiful. The lone cry of the ko ko (a species of goatsucker) echoed plaintively from amongst the dense copse-like underwood, and the song of night-birds amongst the fern, made a low, soft music, that told of calm and peaceful solitudes. Suddenly emerging from the wood, we again struck out into an open fern country, along which we travelled by the light of the moon, crossing swamps and small streams gurgling beneath an overgrowth of luxuriant flax bushes.

We sought refuge for the night under the hospitable roof of an old captain, who, from commanding country ships in the opium trade, had exchanged China, and India, and the luxury of the East, for a humble barn in the forests of New Zealand. Our host complained sadly of the depredations of the natives, and positively assured us that their ill-behaved dogs ate all his butter, which had been made with infinite trouble, by shaking up the cream in a green glass bottle. His guns were kept cocked, in case of an alarm; and the very people, amongst the least civilized of whom I was going alone and unarmed, were represented to us as a race of banditti.

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Our native lads, tired and hungry, on arriving at the end of their day's journey, dropped each one as usual into the fern, with his flax-tied bundle on his back, and, giving the accustomed grunt, each removed his load. Whilst the lads made themselves comfortable beneath a raupo shed, at a short distance from the barn, we betook ourselves to the shelter afforded us by the worthy captain's hut, where we found his family, with the usual accompaniments of a settler's log cabin, --dogs, fleas, and a good blazing fire. Our host, as is usual in Europe, conducted me to my night's quarters. Lifting a piece of depending canvass, he requested me to crawl beneath it; this done, I was enabled, by the light of the moon which was shining full into this corner of the barn, to make a complete survey of the crevice into which I had been thrust by the overwhelming kindness of my host: he would not for a moment think of my sleeping on a heap of fern, which I greatly preferred, but obligingly compelled me to occupy "the best bed," which was styled "the mattress,"--a filthy, ragged thing, full of fleas, and without any covering. Two herdsmen, on an opposite tressel, with the moonlight shining brightly upon their faces, lay snoring and scratching themselves alternately with great vehemence; troubled, no doubt, by the same nimble parasites that blackened my "mattress," with their countless hosts. Horrible noises in the thatch, which the natives would probably have ascribed to the atuas, afforded a subject for speculation, as I lay all night

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with my eyes wide open, counting the mosquitoes I had killed: sometimes I was inclined to think that they were the greatest plague; but a vigorous sally from the myriad inmates of the mattress "feelingly" convinced me that they were not unrivalled, and turned the fulness of my wrath against the wingless foe. Longing for sunrise to banish my vile tormentors, I envied Forsaith on his heap of fern; but in the morning he told me that he too had slain his thousands, and the trophies of his prowess lay scat tered around him. during the day the namu, or sand-fly, is almost as troublesome as the mosquito; but it is instant death for them to bite me, as my entomological propensities make me pretty certain in my capture.

Sept 27th. --At daybreak we gladly rose up, and were off into the clear and dewy air of the morning. Proceeding onwards though fern and belts of forest, we at length arrived at the banks of a rapidly flowing river, which we crossed on the shoulders of our guides; and soon afterwards we reached a small ruined pah, on the slope of a hill, having around it several grotesquely carved figures much decayed. At the native settlement of Papakoura, we found but four individuals at home; food was very scarce, and the improvident natives, for some time past, had been almost starving; their early potato crops not yet being sufficiently advanced to take them out of the ground. With some difficulty, our lads obtained one basket of potatoes, and made up the remainder of their meal

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with boiled sow-thistles. It is remarkable that the natives will not eat salt, and though I have repeatedly offered it to them, I have met with but a solitary instance of their accepting it. On our approach to the scattered huts constituting the settlement of Papakoura, a body of lean dogs attacked us with the utmost demonstrations of fury; but after throwing a few sticks at them they were crouching at our feet, imploringly watching for a morsel of potato.

The thunder and lightning, which had been violent during the morning, were succeeded by torrents of rain that wetted us through; and as the slippery state of the soil rendered walking along the native paths very unpleasant, we found our toko tokos of considerable use, both as walking-staffs and also to feel our way through the swamps and peat-bogs that we constantly had occasion to cross. Onwards, through gently undulating fern-land, interspersed with bushes of phormium tenax and an occasional dragon-tree, we again found belts of forest-land. The thunder rattled angrily over the Maunuotu hills, and after a thorough drenching, the weather once more cleared up.

Amidst a grove of tree-ferns, the sight of a tent agreeably surprised us; for we at first concluded that it belonged to the native party who had conveyed one of the missionaries, the Rev. Mr. Buddle and his family, from Waipa to Auckland, in a sort of chairs or litters (amo), "a la mode Sicilien;" and this party we were anxious to overtake, so as to be able

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to proceed with them in their canoes up the Waikato river. The tent, however, proved to be that of a surveyor, and several Maories were encamped around it.

To-day we had several small rivers to cross: the yellow kowai tree, at this season of spring, covered with a profusion of golden blossoms, ornamented the banks of the streams with its gracefully bending stems. We waded a broad and deep river, at the only fordable spot we could discover, which was over very smooth and slippery rocks; and the violence of the current threatened to carry us off our legs into the foaming rapids beneath. At noon we crossed another river, twelve feet deep, by means of a narrow tree, along which we passed, holding each other's hands, and supported by our poles: on the opposite bank we rested half an hour, and partook of a mouthful of kai (food).

One of our natives constantly carries a slate in his hand, and whenever we halt to rest, he amuses himself by working sums in arithmetic: he is now lying at full length on the fern, busily engaged with a calculation that Forsaith has set him; and my lad, E Pera, is reading aloud from a native testament, extremely fast. Not only do the young people, in this way, improve themselves in education, but they are very fond of teaching others; and many individuals in the interior, who had no instruction whatever from the missionaries, have acquired the arts of reading and writing, merely by aid of these native

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instructors, who have a pride in communicating their new acquirements.

We now reached a river--a deep and sluggish stream--and, as no trees were near, nor any means of crossing except by stripping and plunging in, we waited until our lads came up; they all soon divested themselves of their shirts and trousers, which they flung across to the opposite bank along with their poles and blankets, and then waded the river with the luggage on their heads, the water being up to their necks. After conveying the bundles across, they returned for ourselves, and carried us over, with our feet resting on one fellow's shoulders and our backs on the head of another. It was ticklish work, and the lads enjoyed it amazingly; joking my friend, who lay remarkably still, by saying that they were carrying a dead body. The Maories are remarkable for their natural gaiety: they are merry fellows; always laughing and joking, especially during the adventures of a journey, to which they are extremely partial: look when you will they are sure to laugh, and though they have had but little to eat to-day, they are full of fun.

The soil of the district through which we passed was a sandy loam; the country gently undulating, covered with fern, and intersected by innumerable gullies, filled up with swamps yielding flax and tohi tohi grass.

Towards the afternoon, we came in sight of the native settlement of Tuimata, prettily situated in a

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rich valley on the borders of a kaikatea forest, part of which had been cut down for a potato ground. The natives prefer the soil reclaimed from the decayed vegetation of the woods for their agricultural purposes, and they take infinitely more pains in clearing forest land than in rooting up the fern, as they consider the soil of the former superior. At the kainga, or native settlement, we found about thirty people, together with the party returning to Waipa, whom we had been so anxious to overtake. The chief, whose baptised name was Haimona (Simon), a strong grey haired man, sat to me for his portrait, as did also his wife and child. After pitching our little tent, and partaking of some food, I set to work, though the rain again descended in torrents. I sat beneath the shelter of a native verandah or porch, whilst my patient sitters were exposed to the rain. I resolved on sketching Haimona's wife in the posture she had involuntarily assumed whilst gazing intently at me as I transferred the lineaments of her spouse to paper. She lay at length upon the ground, exactly in the attitude of a sea-lion (phoca) when basking in the sun. The lady insisted, greatly to my dismay, in robing herself for the occasion in a clean white chemise of European fashion; and, putting aside her native habiliments, down she lay upon the wet ground thus attired. Although her vanity was thus singularly gratified, I really pitied the poor woman: notwithstanding, it was impossible to refrain from indulging in a hearty laugh at the idea of a European lady, thus scantily

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attired, lying for her portrait in the pouring rain in such a posture. She appeared highly satisfied with my sketch, as did the old chief who sat by my side: saying it was "wakapaipai," or "beautiful;" whilst all the time I was nearly stifled by the horrible odour that issued from a vessel of stinking Indian corn: a relish to which the natives are remarkably partial.

The rich tints of the evergreen forest were gilded by a transient sunbeam, and just at sunset a rainbow stretched across the eastern sky; the clouds cleared off, and then the moonlight that succeeded this day of storm was lovely and unclouded--the moon being at its full. Our tent is pitched on a bed of chick-weed, and spread thickly with fern by oar lads, which makes a delightful couch to repose on; outside, round the fire, our natives are going through their multiplication table, and laughing and joking at intervals as usual. At sunset, the natives went through their karakia, or worship, which is performed by the Christians every night and morning. Not having a bell, the signal to prayers was given by striking an iron pot with a stone; and presently afterwards we heard their voices, all singing the evening hymn in the Maori tongue. The native teacher, a well-tattooed man, came to us after prayers, and remained all the evening with his head and shoulders thrust into our tent, talking with Forsaith, in the native language, about incorrectly translated passages of the New Testament.

Sept. 28th. --Started at six o'clock, and marched

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several miles before we halted to cook our breakfast. The party returning to Waipa were already off, but we overtook them at an old potato-ground, where they were taking their morning's meal.

We crossed two native bridges over marshy creeks: they were constructed by laying a great quantity of fern across small trunks of trees, and brushwood placed lengthwise. The appearance of the country was here very picturesque; the hills became of a more undulating aspect, clothed with deep forests, and every now and then opening into tracts of fern: from these clear spaces, the view of hill and dale, and belted forest, bounded by the distant appearance of Manukao harbour, with the faint and dim outline of the extinct craters jutting up from the volcanic region we had left far behind us, formed a singular and pleasing scene.

We now entered a gloomy forest, the path through which was rendered difficult and annoying by the liands and roots of various climbers catching our feet at every step beneath the mud. In this forest, and also in the next through which we passed, were complete groves composed entirely of the beautiful nikau palm (areca sapida) mingling with tree ferns (cyathaea and mahrattia) and the other exuberant vegetable productions of these still and sombre dells; which are shaded eternally from the sun by a lofty canopy of kaikatia foliage overhead, and fed by the ceaseless moisture that drops from every spray, and renders these antipodean forests rank with vegeta-

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tion. Parasites sprout from the loftiest trees, and mosses and ferns of numerous varieties clothe the trunks with green, carrying a profusion of vegetable life up into the topmost branches of the noblest forest-trees. All is of the deepest green, and amidst the gloom and shady recesses of these dense forests, there reigns a solemn and almost unbroken stillness: the fluting cry of the kaka {nestor meridionalis) or the moonlight-accompanying voice of the ko ko but occasionally sounding through these primeval solitudes. Truly beautiful at this season of the year are the clustering blossoms of the large white clematis, hanging here and there high overhead, twining round some stately trunk, or spread like a snowy mantle over its leafy summit, and anon descending in chains of bloom, wreathing fantastic garlands around the brushwood.

We halted for our morning meal amidst the charred stumps that marked an old potato-ground, the rich soil of which was overrun with wild cabbage now in blossom. Huiputea, the chief who led the party, spread some nikau leaves for us to sit upon, and, opening our provision box, we commenced breakfast. We had, in addition, potatoes roasted in rows upon sharp sticks; and one of the natives contributed a beautiful pigeon, of a large size, which he had just brought down with his musket. Before he could reach the fires, little Hori, son of Huiputea, snatched out the tail of the bird, and commenced sticking the feathers upright in his hair, and another

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of the natives covered his head with tufts of the snow-white feathers from its breast. The delicate rose-coloured feet of this pigeon, are used by the natives of the Southern Island to stain their cheeks red.

We again entered a dense forest, frequently travelling through mud which was knee deep, where the tangled roots and liands caught our feet continually; and for some miles we pushed onwards in this manner: now toiling up a steep and slippery bank, then climbing over a fallen kaikatea tree, or descending from root to root down a ravine, holding on by the trees in our descent; and presently after crossing some swollen torrent dashing over blocks of stone of a volcanic character.

One of our lads felled a nikau palm (areca sapida), and cut out the heart, of which we all partook: it was refreshing, and tasted rather pleasant than otherwise, its flavour somewhat resembling that of the cocoa-nut. This portion of the palm-tree is eagerly sought after by the New Zealanders, who fell every tree which they consider likely to contain a young and succulent heart: the leaves are also much used for thatching the temporary sheds which they erect whilst travelling in the forest; likewise frequently for roofing their houses and cooking-huts in the plantations. The nikau palms are consequently fast decreasing, and this graceful tree will probably soon disappear, unless means are taken to preserve its growth: in all directions we saw destroyed stems,

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and their broad pinnated leaves lay scattered on the ground. Our party halting amidst a grove of nikau palms, formed a wild and picturesque group.

The rain fell in torrents during the morning, and the dripping forest resembled a shower-bath. Fern and forest-land alternated all the way, until we came in sight of the Waikato river, meandering through a rich country, amidst hills clothed with trees. It was a welcome sight, as here we knew that our journey on foot would be interrupted for a day or two; having to ascend the river in canoes to Waipa. On entering the last forest, before we arrived at the margin of the river, a delicious fragrance, like that of hyacinth and jessamine mingled, filled the warm still air with its perfume. It arose from the petals of a straggling shrub, with bright green shining leaves, resembling those of the nutmeg-tree; and a profusion of rich and delicate blossoms, looking like waxwork, and hanging in clusters of trumpet-shaped bells: I observed every shade of colour amongst them, from pinkish white to the deepest crimson, and the edges of the petals were irregularly jagged all round. The natives call this plant horopito.

On reaching the banks of the Waikato, we found that one large canoe had already started with a portion of our native escort, who were pushing on to reach Koruakopupu before sunset: there, being Christian natives, they intended to spend the Sabbath, which was on the following day.

The yellow kowai tree, which, at this season, was one

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mass of golden blossoms, grew abundantly near the water's edge: some of our natives gathered bunches of it, and suspended them as ornaments in their ears. The Waikato river, at this spot, cannot be less than four hundred yards in breadth, and it flows onwards with a rapid current of at least five miles an hour, towards the west coast.

Our canoe, which was hewn out of a solid tree, was of that kind used for river conveyance, called kaupapa: it is quite simple, deep, and trough-like, without either the ornamental carving or the painting of kokowai that adorn the war-canoe and the gaily decorated waka of the harbours on the coast. It was from forty to fifty feet in length, but the breadth did not exceed two feet and a half. The bottom of the canoe, well strewn with fern, received our luggage and various packages belonging to the natives.

The number of our party amounted to about twenty-five, and away we started for Koruakopupu; keeping near the bank to avoid meeting the strength of the current, which flows most rapidly towards the middle of the river. Our people, stripped to the waist, each with a mat round his loins, paddled away most lustily; and we glided on swiftly, propelled by at least a dozen paddles.

As we proceeded, the most luxuriant vegetation overspread the banks of the river, and even extended into the water. Gigantic flax and the tohi tohi grass, with its razor-edged leaves, formed a complete jungle; whilst the dragon or ti-trees, in full beauty, imparted

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quite a foreign character to the scene. An occasional nikau shed appeared on the margin of the stream, beneath groves of dragon-trees and kahikatoa pine. The graceful rimu, and the koroi pine, seventy or eighty feet in height, mingle their evergreen foliage, and occasionally a small cowdie-tree appears here and there; though the Waikato is the southern limit of this magnificent timber-pine. Our natives, anxious to reach the village where we were to halt on the Sabbath (for the missionary natives very seldom travel on that day), pulled merrily, timing the strokes of their paddles with a chant, shouted with deafening noise; one responding to another: their loud and barbarous singing may be heard at a great distance on the water. The burden of our paddlers' chant was, "Pull away, pull away--this is not pulling;" but occasional improvised allusions to any casual object we might be passing varied the song, and had an inspiriting effect on the rowers.

It was a calm and lovely evening, and nothing broke the serenity of its repose but the splashing of the paddles as our canoe dashed onwards. How many a scene of barbarous and warlike times has this noble river been witness to! Fleet after fleet of gaily decorated war-canoes have passed up and down its surface, from the places of slaughter, reeking with blood, perhaps deeply laden with human flesh, and filled with savage heroes, whose war-shouts and yells of triumph disturbed the stillness of the lovely scenes of nature around them. But now the picture is changed.

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A far different era has dawned upon the descendants of those fierce warriors. The New Zealanders are no longer a fighting people; they find raising supplies for the Europeans a far more pleasant and profitable occupation. The good effects arising from the influence of the missionaries is apparent, even if civilization had been their only aim. The New Zealanders are an intelligent and interesting race; they have fine minds and good dispositions; and if properly treated, no people can behave better. Much has been foolishly alleged against them, by individuals who are entirely ignorant of the true character and meritorious conduct of many of the Maories.

Pieces of pumice-stone, carried by the current from the Lake of Taupo, where the river has its real source, are constantly floating down with the stream of the Waikato: they are the products of the great active volcano of Tongariro, which is the centre of volcanic agency in the northern island of New Zealand.

We landed at a small pah or settlement, close to the right bank of the river, which proved to be Koruakopupu; here we pitched our tent, overlooking the broad surface of the Waikato, at about half a dozen yards from its brink. The fear of too many visitations from that active parasite, the flea (cleverly styled "e pakea nohinohi," or "the little stranger," by the natives, who say it was introduced by the Europeans), prevented our encamping within the enclosure of the pah; we were, however, annoyed by the

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mosquitoes during the night; and no sooner had the sun risen, and we issued from our tent to wash by the river side, than those peculiarly vexatious pests, the sand-flies (namu), commenced their attacks on our bare hands and feet. The sand-fly is a small black insect, and swarms in such myriads, that one is never free from their vengeance, if remaining for a single instant in the same position: whilst sketching, my hands are frequently covered with blood, and their numbers being inexhaustible, one at last gets weary of killing them.

At this village I made a sketch of a chief named Te Taepa, who was on a visit at this kainga: he was employed, on my approaching him, in plucking out the slightest remaining vestiges of his beard with a pair of shells, which answered the purpose of tweezers. Whilst taking his portrait, an acquaintance of his entered the verandah, and the cordial salutation of hungi, or "pressing noses," took place: it appeared to be a particularly fond salute, for they continued pressing their noses together, more or less violently, for a considerable time, uttering numerous comfortable little grunts during the ceremony.

Just outside the railings of the pah stands a "ware puni," or "hot-house," for strangers to sleep in. Our lads occupied this lodging, which they heated nearly to suffocation with a large fire, and then closing the door and window, they crawled in, and lay huddled together all night in an atmosphere that would stifle almost any European: in the morning they came out

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into the sharp, cold, dewy air, with the perspiration dripping profusely from their bodies. This practice is, doubtless, one of the many causes of consumption being so prevalent amongst this people: another, as has been before remarked, is the introduction of blankets as articles of clothing.

The hospitality of the Maories to strangers is proverbial; travellers are always welcomed amongst them. Tobacco is the only money needful for a European in passing through the country; a present of a small quantity of this weed, on leaving, being considered as an ample remuneration for food and shelter: for a fig of tobacco they will willingly furnish a dozen eggs, or a basket of potatoes or kumeras. It is only on the coast, in the vicinity of the European settlements, that the natives require utu, or payment in coin.

The evening bell sounded for worship within the pah, and the native teacher, Wirihona, or Wilson, read prayers to his party. Our lads cooked an excellent supper for us; consisting of masses of small fish enclosed in flax-leaves, and tied up in bundles: these packages were placed upright before the fire, against a frame of sticks, and were kept turned round until sufficiently cooked, when they emptied out of the broad leaves beautifully done, and we thought them the most delicious supper imaginable. During our repast, a facetious native popped his head into the tent, and exclaimed, "How fast you are eating your suppers!"--and next morning, whilst breakfasting in front of our tent, we gave a plateful of frag-

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ments to several lads who were watching our operations, when one of them shrewdly remarked, "The dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master's table; so we are eating your leavings." They are naturally witty, and fond of a joke or repartee.

Sept. 29th. --During the night we had heavy rain, and the clouds hung low upon the hills this morning; the air in the neighbouring woods was rendered quite fragrant with the horopito, and the dark trees were reflected on the breathless surface of the Waikato. Several canoes, filled with natives, arrived from the opposite side of the river for morning worship, and returned again after the service was concluded. The worship was conducted with great apparent propriety and decorum, and the hearers were devout and attentive. There were three services during the day; and the Sabbath appeared to be more strictly regarded by these people than it is amongst Europeans in general. The horrid sand-flies attacked us to-day more unmercifully than ever, and in such clouds that I should imagine them to be a species very nearly allied to those that constituted the fourth plague of Egypt. It became necessary to send away the chief's little boy from the doorway of our tent, as the stench arising from a cake that he was eating, made of shark and putrid maize, was more than any nose that had the most remote claim to civilization could in any way tolerate. The children soon afterwards began to cram themselves with hinau cakes, --a black, filthy mass, consisting of the fruit

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of the hinau tree compressed together, and kept till quite rotten and musty, which they eat with avidity. With the exception of the putrid corn, one can hardly imagine anything more disgusting: they tell us it is good for them, but would not suit the pakeha. From the bark of the hinau tree is extracted the rich black colour with which they dye the strings of their mats, and the black portions of the wood-work of their canoes.

Sept, 30th. --Up at half-past five: the morning calm, and the dewy mists hanging in broad masses over the still, deep-flowing Waikato. At six, the bell of the pah sounded for morning prayers, and one by one the natives, wrapped in their blankets and mats, silently emerged from their various dwellings, and came dropping into the house appropriated for worship, with their books in their hands. Whilst sketching, I was much annoyed by stupid natives and dogs: I obtained only two portraits, and left one half finished to partake of a hurried breakfast; the natives being all impatience to start. Our party consisted of two canoes full, comprising about forty persons: the canoe in which we took our places was very deeply laden, and contained twenty-four paddlers, besides my friend and myself. The inhabitants of the pah who remained behind sat in groups along the banks, or upon the tops of their houses: perched here and there, they resembled so many haycocks in their kokahus, or coarse flax garments. About a mile from Koruakopupu we halted a few

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minutes at a small settlement, where a white man and his family resided amongst the natives: the whole population were here and there scattered about in groups, cither squatting on the ground or seated on their canoes or logs of wood, watching the arrival of our party.

The magnificence of vegetation in the forests along the margin of the river, cannot fail to strike the eye of a lover of nature with wonder and delight: deep, rich, and varied are the tints of the evergreen woods of New Zealand. The large white stars of the clematis are wreathed like garlands round the sombre foliage of the tall trees; and the golden blossoms of the kowai are scattered in showers over the bosom of the stream, from the drooping tresses that bear them.

At one settlement which we passed, there was a singular fishing-net near the water's edge, suspended upon poles: its shape resembled that of a boat, and its fine meshes were composed of the fibres of the phormium. At another spot I observed a rohi, or native landmark, formed of three upright stakes or poles, curiously decorated with bunches and festoons of the dried stems of a climber.

Whilst paddling, many of the natives wear a tatua or belt, made of flax, in black and white angular designs, ornamented with tufts of red wool: it is broad in the centre, tapering to a point at each end, and is fastened round the waist like a girdle.

Several low, sedgy islands occur in the river: they are all covered with gigantic flax, tohi tohi grass,

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wild cabbage, and bulrushes. The large coarse flax growing on the banks of the river is used by the natives in manufacturing the kokahu, or rough winter garment. The flax for making the kaitaka and finer varieties of mats, is usually cultivated for that purpose, by which means the fibre becomes much more silky and beautiful.

As we glided onwards, the scenery was in places varied by open fern-hills, with peeps of the distant blue ranges beyond. Now and then the quantity of pumice floating down with the current of the stream was so great as to have gathered with the drift-wood and duck-weed, and formed considerable masses, which occasionally impeded the progress of our canoe; as we kept near the banks to avoid the strong current against us which flowed in the centre of the river. Our canoe was too deeply laden; and, though we were in still water, its edge was frequently not more than a couple of inches above the surface of the stream. The paddles were plied with great spirit; the exertions of the natives being stimulated by the animated shouting song kept up incessantly by one or another of the party. At length the splashing was so violent that we became nearly drenched; and on requesting the] Maori before us to throw less water in our faces, he replied with a proverb amongst them, that "no one is dry who travels with the Waikatos;" meaning that the people of this tribe excel all others in the speed and dexterity with which they manage their canoes. Our

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natives were in excellent spirits; they had been on a long journey to Auckland, where they had seen the pakeha (white man or stranger) in his settlement, and had witnessed many sights of civilization to which they were previously strangers; they had also purchased articles of European manufacture, and were longing to return home to the peaceful banks of the Waipa, to present them to their friends as tokens of their regard. Their wild, deafening songs, with their heads all undulating at every stroke, the contortions of their eyes, and their bare tawny shoulders, finely developing their muscles as they all dashed their paddles simultaneously into the water, rendered the scene at once novel and animating. The canoe songs are generally improvised, and frequently have reference to passing objects: such ejaculations as the following were uttered by our companions at the highest pitch of their voices: -- "Pull away, pull away, pull away!"--"Dig into the water!"--"Break your backs!" &c. From the prow of one of the canoes a native flute sounded plaintively: this is a very rude and imperfect instrument, and they do not play it with any degree of skill, it having only two or three notes. The native art of balancing a canoe is extremely nice, the slightest preponderance of weight on either side being sufficient to upset it. From a want of proper caution in having the canoe exactly balanced, Europeans have frequently lost their lives by being capsized. Meeting a large canoe on the river, well manned, as

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it approaches end on, with all the paddles dashing into the water at once, has a curious effect; giving one the idea of a huge centipede moving along.

The dark glossy foliage of the puriri tree formed groves in some places on the banks of the river: the colour of the leaf appears of the richest purplish-green, almost approaching to black, and is very ornamental; the blossom is of a delicate lilac, sometimes approaching to rose-colour, and resembles in shape that of the snap-dragon; the timber is extremely hard, like iron-wood, and is employed by the natives in the construction of several of their weapons and implements.

We landed at Kapau, where are a few old huts and a grove of dragon-trees (ti), on the left bank of the river. Whilst our friends were employed in kindling fires, and cooking food for their mid-day meal, I made a sketch of the spot, thus suddenly transformed from a solitude to a lively and animated scene. Our lads, as usual, roasted our bacon in thin slices, between two sticks tied with flax; and potatoes were plentiful. During our repast, one old man perseveringly sat close to my side, plucking out his beard with a pair of tweezers.

Railed enclosures of some twenty feet square are erected in the water, near these river-side settlements, expressly for the purpose of preparing the favourite stinking corn. The cobs of maize are placed, when in a green state, in flax baskets, and put under the water for some weeks, until quite putrid: they are

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then taken out as occasion may require, and made up into the disgusting cakes before mentioned. At other times the putrid mass is put into a kohue, or large pan, and, when mixed with water and boiled over the fire, is converted into a species of gruel that sends forth an effluvia over the whole settlement. No one who has been fortunate enough never to experience the vile odour arising from corn thus prepared, can form any idea of its extreme offensiveness.

After halting for a couple of hours, we again started. The canoes were all full of men, women, and children; and at the head of Wirihona's canoe sat his little son, with a small fire before him, carried between some pieces of dry bark: the child, paddling away, formed a living figure-head to the sharp and frail vessel as it glided onwards. Next came the elder children, all arranged according to their sizes: the bigger ones placed where the canoe widened towards the centre; and on the flat projecting end of the stern sat the chief, steering dexterously with a paddle. The latter part of the afternoon was splendid: the showers had cleared off, and large white rollers of cloud lay gathered up over the distant mountains, leaving the canopy overhead of a deep and pure azure.

The graceful tui, or parson-bird (prosthemadera Novae Selandicae) sported amongst the yellow blossoms of the kowai--the tuft of white feathers on its breast, from which it derives its name, contrasting with the glossy black of the rest of its plumage; and occasion-

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ally one of the beautiful New Zealand pigeons (carpophaga Novae Selandicae), disturbed while feeding on the berries growing near the stream, would flutter away into the darker recesses of the forest. The wild-ducks were numerous, and so tame that they frequently allowed us to approach within a few yards of them.

We fell in with an old woman most actively moving about in a very small canoe, who used her paddles in high style, and ran in between our two canoes. She then commenced a tangi, or crying match, as a salute, with one or two of her friends who happened to be of the party; still paddling, and continuing her dismal tangi. Having put a basket of potatoes on board as a present, she received in return a fig of tobacco; the tangi concluded, she turned about, laughing merrily, and, handling her paddles as briskly as before, was soon out of sight, as we turned an angle of the stream.

The natives are all remarkably fond of smoking; and it amused us greatly to observe a sickly-looking child in Wirihona's canoe, who wore a straw-hat without any brim, constantly carrying a little fancy pipe in his mouth. At rare intervals, this pipe gets a shred of tobacco, but for hours, and perhaps days, it remains empty; still, however, adorning the mouth of its juvenile possessor.

We passed several primitive landmarks on the margin of the river, one being composed of three upright posts, with balls of mange mange--a dried creeper--fastened upon the top, and festoons of the

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same material connecting the posts. Sometimes these landmarks are formed by planting harikeke, or flax, in rows in a straight line. This is generally done in valuable land, such as ground fitted for kumeras, &c.

We observed numerous small settlements (kainga maori) on both banks of the river. Many appeared deserted, the natives being temporarily absent at their cultivations and potato-grounds; but one of these villages boasted a solitary old woman, whose little pig was in faithful attendance at her heels.

At the junction of the Puatia River with the Waikato, the scenery around assumes a bleak and open character: undulating fern hills, destitute of wood, slope to the water's edge, and a range of blue mountains bounds the view to the eastward. The Waikato here is much broader than at Tuakau, the spot where we first embarked on its bosom. Some wide, open reaches were to be passed, and our canoes had to cross the current diagonally to the opposite bank.

The wind now blew violently, and, meeting the current, caused an unpleasant sea in the middle channel of the river. Our heavily laden canoe was not fitted to encounter anything beyond still water; and as our natives related to each other where this and that canoe were upset, they dashed their paddles into the water with all their energy, and our bark was soon in the midst of the troubled current. We were every moment in imminent dancer of being swamped: the water washed in on both sides, and nothing but the extreme swiftness with which we

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glided through the current prevented us from filling. As the canoe darted against the opposite shore, our natives gave a loud shout, and commenced baling out the water, which we had shipped in great quantities, with a tatau, or scoop. We now looked anxiously towards the second canoe, and watched them literally pulling for their lives, splashing and dashing with the utmost vehemence. The frail bark appeared almost swallowed up by the angry stream; but she glided securely through, and the drenched chief and his family repeated the shout of welcome to the opposite shore, as their canoe also darted in safety against its banks.

We landed for the night at a small kainga, where we pitched our tent, close to some neat graves belonging to the Christian natives. These were railed round with a double fence of low pailings. An enclosure of corn looked well, and several peach-trees grew at the other extremity of the settlement. Our numerous party, as usual, busied themselves in preparing a sufficient supply of food; a large oven of heated stones, heaped over with earth, contained the general supper, and was surrounded by all the busy old women, squatting in the smoke and anticipating the opening of the oven. The wife of Wirihona met the wife of an inferior chief, who was an old acquaintance, which led to a warm tangi between the two parties; but, after sitting opposite to each other for a quarter of an hour or more, crying bitterly with a most piteous moaning and lamentation, the

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tangi was transformed into a hungi, and the two old ladies commenced pressing noses, giving occasional satisfactory grunts. During all this time, no one around appeared to take the slightest notice of the ceremony: neither the crocodile tears of the first salute, nor the loving caresses of the second, aroused any sympathy in the hearts of the surrounding spectators.

While making my sketch of this rustic kainga, the setting sun lit up the fern and distant hills with ruddy purple, and the evening tints reminded me of Australian scenery; such was the brilliancy of their hues. A keen westerly wind was blowing, and the night was sharp and clear. At sunset an iron pot was again struck in lieu of a bell, and the natives assembled in a circle in the open air, around a blazing fire, for their evening karakia or worship.

Oct. 1st. --The morning was shrouded in thick dewy mist, that fell like small rain, and the black and white moths fluttered drowsily in the raw cold air. The ovens were now opened, and great was the bustle and business of breakfast. Several natives were cooking fern root in the fire, in pieces of about a foot long; after being sufficiently roasted, the root is scraped clean with a mussel-shell: it has an earthy and rather medicinal flavour, and is full of black and stringy fibres. An old slave woman was shelling mussels (anadon) most expeditiously: she scooped out the fish with another mussel-shell, and it was astonishing to watch the extreme rapidity with which

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she emptied the shells of their contents. Another old woman was assisting her, whose breasts were most elaborately tattooed with small straight lines.

We obtained some fine kumeras for breakfast. These are the choicest of the New Zealanders' produce, and their whatas, or stores for these vegetables are frequently more carved and adorned than the houses they dwell in. The kumera in shape resembles a kidney potato, its flavour is sweet, and it contains a quantity of starch. Our companions cooked slices of stinking shark with their potatoes, and the women having made baskets of green flax for the reception of the food, a supply was carried forward in the canoes, so that the whole day we were regaled with the filthy effluvia of putrid shark.

At a small kainga one of our party left us, with his musket and basket of et ceteras, wading through the marshy flax and bulrushes to gain tena firma, and saying "how d' ye do" in English as a farewell salute to his companions. Away he went, pushing through the fern, and we speeded onwards towards Kaitote, the pah of the celebrated Te Whero Whero, who is the principal chief of all the Waikato tribes.

Kaitote is famous for its fine kumera grounds. The banks of the river are low, and fern extends to the water's edge, with about three or four feet of light vegetable soil, or sand, through which the roots of the fern extend, thickly matted together. Towards the afternoon the scenery changed: steep wooded hills descended towards the stream, and the mountain of Taupiri, famous as a landmark of old renown, reared

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its pyramidal cone before us; its sides were clothed with thick forests, and at its base, on the opposite bank of the river, stood Te Whero Whero's pah of Kaitote. The site of an ancient fortification occupies a hill close to Taupiri. The land around Kaitote has been the scene of many a desperate fight, and extensive cannibal feasts have taken place on the very ground where we halted to dine. Numerous whatas, or elevated repositories, are scattered about this district; and the natives have extensive cultivations of potatoes, kumeras, Indian corn, and occasionally wheat. There was not a single native at Kaitote on our arrival: in company with their chief, they were all at their extensive kumera grounds on the Waipa, at a place called Whata Whata. As usual, I explored the remotest corners of the pah, in search of anything new for my pencil, and seeing a square deal box elevated on posts and covered with a roof raised by means of slender sticks, I was curious to know what it contained; it was evidently tapu, and on lifting up the lid I found that it was filled with old garments, which I afterwards learned were the property of a very celebrated person lately deceased, and that these garments had been placed within this wahi tapu, under the most rigorous tapu, by the tohunga: who would probably have pulled my ears had he discovered me peeping at these sacred relics. In another portion of this settlement were several neat Christian graves, around which had been planted tufts of the white and blue iris, now in full blossom.

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Kaitote pah consists of an open quadrangle, with houses ranged on each side in the primitive style, the whole surrounded by a lofty palisade of wooden posts, having an entrance at each end. At one end of the pah stands a chapel, built of tohi tohi grass, by the Christian portion of the inhabitants; and Te Whero Whero, though not professing Christianity himself, frequently attends the worship held here by the missionary.

Three very large canoes were drawn up on the bank of the river, just outside the pah: the largest, about 70 feet in length, was gaily painted red, and ornamented with a profusion of white feathers, and the head and stern post were richly carved. The canoes were all thatched over with raupo, to protect them from the weather. Like other nations, the New Zealanders have various high-sounding names by which they designate their war canoes: the one in question was styled "Maratuhai," which signifies literally "a slaying or devouring fire."

A walk across the country of about two miles again brought us to a bend of the river, where we arrived at the Church Missionary Station of Pepepe, the residence of Mr. Ashwell. We had thunder and heavy rain, and the mists hung about the lofty wooded hills that surround this enchanting spot. Our walk was a very wet one, through swampy flax and fern, and we were obliged to cross one swamp on the shoulders of the natives.

Numbers of pigs were feeding amongst the fern. The fern root gives to their flesh a delicate flavour

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unknown to other pork, so that it more nearly resembles veal. The New Zealand pigs are generally black; and, on the approach of a European, they erect their bristles, and, grunting, gallop off like wild boars. In the vicinity of deserted pahs, and in the forests, wild pigs are numerous and fierce, and frequent accidents have occurred from their attacking the natives when in pursuit of them. We saw large piles of bushes in stacks amongst the kumera grounds through which we passed: they are used for sheltering the tender plants when young. Great care is required in rearing this precious vegetable, owing to its susceptibility to frosts and severe winds.

At a bend of the river, the romantic cottage of the missionary suddenly appeared in view. It was as lovely and secluded a spot as it is possible to imagine: the little cottage built of raupo, with its white chimneys, and its garden full of flowers--of sweet English flowers, roses, stocks, and mignonette--was snugly perched on an elevated plateau overhanging the Waikato; and the access to it was by a small bridge thrown across a glen of tree ferns, with a stream murmuring below.

The interior of the cottage, which was constructed entirely by the natives, under the direction of Mr. Ashwell, is lined throughout with reeds, and divided into a number of small rooms communicating one with another. The cottage, the situation, the people, and everything around them, were picturesque.

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Pepepe signifies butterfly: and surely the name is not misapplied to this lovely spot.

The missionary and his wife received us with the utmost hospitality, and we remained with these worthy people during the next day.

I had not long entered the house before a sweet little girl, with a very fair complexion and long flaxen ringlets, came running up to me. It was pleasant to hear, in this secluded spot, the prattle of a little English child: she lisped to us of the roses she had been gathering, and said that the rain had made them so pretty.

Thus the prattler went on; when I observed in the next apartment, upon a sofa, a delicate and sickly boy, who was suffering from a disease of the heart. "Do you paint portraits?" inquired the father of me, with a look of almost agonizing earnestness. I guessed his meaning, and glanced at the sick boy on the pink sofa. He said no more; but I felt that it was in my power to make the hearts of those anxious parents happy; for I knew they expected to lose their child. It is a blessed thing to have the power of contributing one's mite towards mitigating the trials of the missionary. On the following morning, I made a sketch of the boy; the father was overjoyed, and the mother's looks told what she had not words to express.

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During my stay at Pepepe, the missionary sent for Te Paki, the old chief next in importance in the Waikato districts to Te Whero Whero: he arrived, with his wife, in a small canoe, from a kainga about three miles up the river; and they had both arrayed themselves in their primitive costume, for the purpose of sitting to me for their portraits. Paki was formerly a great priest, or tohunga, and one of the most eloquent speakers in Waikato. About ten years since, he began to entertain favourable opinions respecting Christianity; but a considerable time elapsed before he could break through his superstitious and heathen customs: the tapu had nearly as strong a hold upon his mind, as the idea of caste has upon that of the Hindoo. At length he was induced to learn to read; his own son offering to be his teacher. After this he entered into a violent dispute that arose respecting some land, and, for a time, appeared inclined altogether to forsake his newly adopted religion; a quarrel about an eel pah then occupied his whole attention, and the death of his favourite son, who was drowned at Manukao, caused him to absent himself entirely from the Christian natives. He attributed the death of his son to the disrespect paid to the heathen atuas, or spirits; and as it was this lad who had taught him to read, he imagined the atuas had shown their anger, by punishing him in this manner. At length, however, he became a firm adherent to Christianity; gave up all his heathen notions and habits, and has

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ever since remained one of the most upright and conscientious chiefs of the Waikato.

I also painted Te Amotutu, a young chief of Waikato, belonging to the Nga ti pou tribe, who is related to Te Paki. He is a fine lad, not more than sixteen years of age; and about a month ago he was married to a pretty girl of Kaitote, to whom he had long been betrothed by his friends. The young bridegroom is very well satisfied with his bride; but she, unfortunately, is partial to another lad, whom the customs of her tribe forbid her to marry.

In the afternoon our natives were all impatient to start; for the rain had cleared off, and the blue sky was revealing itself in every direction, as the mists rolled up upon the sides of the woody mount of Taupiri; but Mr. Ashwell gave them a little pig for a feast, and they then readily consented to remain until the next day. Our chief, Wirihona, with his party, had started in two canoes early in the morning, and this made the others anxious to follow.

During the evening Mrs. Ashwell played upon the piano, and several hymns were sung in the native language at their evening worship. Had it not been for the three little native domestics (or rather "helps") that were in the room, I could, for the moment, almost have fancied myself in England again. These girls Mrs. Ashwell had taught to read and sew, and they assisted her in the domestic arrangements of the mission station: they were droll, fat creatures; and whenever they wanted to pass across the

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room, they crept upon their hands and knees under the table. I made a sketch of the stoutest of the trio, who is described as a "regular vixen." The moment I had completed the sketch it was shown to her; whereupon she instantly rushed out of the room, fancying she was bewitched.

From the hills, near Pepepe, there are very extensive views of the surrounding country. From the summit of Taupiri the fresh-water lake of Waikari is seen: it is remarkable for having a salt stream running through it, in which the sea-fish called kani are caught; although they are not found in the other parts of the lake.

This Waikari has a communication with the Waikato, in which an occasional stray kani from the salt stream of the lake is now and then to be found. Six other fresh-water lakes may be seen from the top of Taupiri.

Oct. 3. -- At an early hour we took leave of our friends at the mission station of Pepepe, and were once more seated in the canoe, pursuing our course up the river. Half an hour after breakfast, we passed a number of natives at a small village on the banks of the river. They were calling to us, --"Come on shore, come on shore, or you will be dead for want of food;" when one of our party shrewdly replied, --"It is not for love of us you are calling; it is our tobacco that you want."

We now entered the Waipa, which joins the Waikato about three or four miles beyond Pepepe. It

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is a deep, placid, meandering river, about half the breadth of the Waikato at Pepepe.

We passed the little village of Whakapaku -- and afterwards Noterau, where there were a great many natives in their canoes.

The banks of the Waipa are in some places very picturesque, with steep, wooded hills and dense foliage extending down nearly to the water's edge. The land is rich, and the whole district is thickly peopled with native inhabitants, whose plantations and potato-grounds exhibit a degree of neatness and skill in the art of cultivation that but few savage races attain. As the canoes approach the little settlements along the banks, it is amusing to observe the alacrity with which the children, in a state of nudity, run to put on their mats at the sight of the pakeha, and then squat down in their usual attitude to gaze at us.

We met a large canoe coming down the stream, having in it two Europeans, accompanied by about a dozen Maories. They were pork-traders, a class of men in New Zealand corresponding somewhat with the overlanders of Australia. These individuals go up the rivers into the interior, and procure pigs from the natives in exchange for powder, tobacco, and blankets. The pigs thus obtained they bring down to the coast, where they sell them for a good price, either to the people at the European settlements, or to the captains of whalers and trading vessels. The natives term these men "Pakeha Maories," or "white men of no consequence."

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On arriving at the village or kainga of Ko Ngahokowitu, we found all the natives in a state of extraordinary excitement. We had observed numbers of people running in that direction along the margin of the river from the different plantations; and, on inquiry, we learned that, an hour previously to our arrival, the son of an influential chief had committed suicide by shooting himself with a musket.

Our fellow-travellers, with Wirihona their chief, were all assembled, and we followed them to the shed where the act had been perpetrated, and where the body still lay, as it fell, but covered with a blanket. The mourners were gathered round, and the women commenced crying most dolefully; wringing their hands, and bending their bodies to the earth. We approached the body, and were permitted to remove the blanket from the face and breast: the countenance was perfectly placid, and the yellow tint of the skin, combined with the tattooing, gave the corpse almost the appearance of a waxen model. The deceased was a fine and well-made young man. He had placed the musket to his breast, and deliberately fired off the trigger with his toes, the bullet passing right through his lungs. Blood was still oozing from the orifice made by the bullet, and also from the mouth, and the body was quite warm.

The cause of this sad occurrence was a case of adultery, which had taken place some time ago, between this man and the wife of another person residing in the same village. The friends of this

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young man sent away the woman to a distant settlement, which caused the deceased to become gloomy and sullen. Some of the party having that morning reproached him with his conduct, he suddenly rose in an angry mood, and went unobserved to the spot where he destroyed himself.

The tears shed by the mourners were marks of genuine grief: it was quite melancholy to observe the young man's uncle, bending over the body and frequently placing his hands upon it, whilst the tears ran down his furrowed and tattooed cheeks. Only two other mourners approached close to the body: the sister and brother of the deceased. The former I did not at first observe; she was sitting at the feet of the corpse, entirely wrapped in a portion of the blanket that covered it: the same drapery enveloping the living and the dead. The latter, a fine boy about twelve or fourteen, came in and sat down close to his uncle; he had striven to conceal his feelings for some time, but at length he hid his face in his mat and cried bitterly. The old man saluted us most cordially; but his heart was too full to speak, and he only kept shaking his head as the tears wetted his wrinkled countenance.

We left this scene of weeping, with which the heavily falling rain was in accordance, and returned to our canoes, from which we had to bale out the water.

At Hopetui we landed and took shelter beneath a little tent that our chief, Wideona, had erected there.

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Sitting huddled together with his family, we found employment in bathing the eye of his little girl with warm water: the poor child having received a dreadful blow, that had caused the part to swell to the size of a pigeon's egg. These people are but very indifferent doctors. Amongst the heathen tribes they attempt to cure all diseases by witchcraft or sorcery; and these Christian natives were actually rubbing the wound with their dirty fingers, while the mother wiped away the discharge from the eye with a piece of old blanket.

A slight incident occurred in the tent, illustrative of native character. The chief caught a large spider on his blanket, and taking it by one leg, held it carefully for a minute and then let it go. I asked him why he did not destroy the spider? He replied-- "He has done no wrong: if he had bitten me I should have killed him."

The entrance to the tent was shut in with a crowd of heads, amongst which were those of two old men, who were most anxious to sell us some eggs. The air of the little tent was insupportable; added to which, the whole family were successively chewing a large piece of filthy pork rind, which was handed from one to another, and had now been divested of nearly all the fat it previously contained.

At Hopetui we met with a sister of Karaka or "Clark," the chief of Waikato heads, whose portrait I had painted when at Auckland. This portrait I showed to the old woman, who had not seen her

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brother for some time, when, to my surprise and amusement, she at once commenced a most affectionate tangi before the sketch; waving her hands in the usual manner, and uttering successively low whining sounds, expressive of her joy. After she had, as I imagined, satisfied herself with seeing the representation of her brother, I was about to replace the sketch in my portfolio, when she begged of Forsaith that she might be permitted to tangi over it in good earnest, saying, "it was her brother--her brother; and she must tangi till the tears come;" and sure enough presently the tears did come, and the old woman wept and moaned, and waved her hands before the picture with as much apparent feeling as if her brother himself had thus suddenly appeared to her. I could not prevail upon the old creature to desist, and was at length compelled to leave the portrait in Forsaith's care whilst I was employed in sketching elsewhere. In future I shall be more cautious how I show my sketches to the old women, finding they are liable to produce such melancholy results.

This evening, service was held in a small raupo building near which our tent was pitched. Three Europeans--Pakeha Maories, who were proceeding up the Waipa to trade for pigs with the natives-- passed the night at this place.

In the evening, Wirihona came into our tent, and we conversed about cannibalism. I inquired of him, through Forsaith, if he himself had ever partaken of

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human flesh? "Yes," he said, "we have all eaten it, when we knew no better."

Wirihona then gave us a detailed account of the mode of preserving the heads of their enemies: which "tapued heads" are frequently to be met with in Europe in the museums and cabinets of the curious. If they were heads of enemies taken in battle, the lips were stretched out and sewn apart; if, on the contrary, it was the head of one of the chiefs of their own tribe, who had died, and they were preserving it with all customary honours, they sewed the lips close together in a pouting attitude. A hole was dug in the earth and heated with red-hot stones, and then-- the eyes, ears, and all the orifices of the head, except the windpipe, being carefully sewn up, and the brains taken out--the aperture of the neck was placed over the month of the heated oven, and the head well steamed. This process was continued until the head was perfectly free from moisture, and the skin completely cured; fern root was then thrust into the nostrils, and in this state the heads were either placed under a strict tapu, or bartered in exchange for muskets or blankets to Sydney traders. To the shame of the Europeans thus engaged it must be told, that so eager were they to procure these dried heads for sale in England and elsewhere, that many chiefs were persuaded to kill their slaves, and tattoo the faces after death, to supply this unnatural demand. Heads belonging to their enemies slain in battle were prepared and stuck up in rows upon stakes within the pah; to these,

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every species of savage indignity was offered, and the conquering party danced naked before the heads, uttering all manner of abuse to them in terms of bravado and insult, as though they were still alive.

Oct. 4th. --The morning was dry and perfectly calm: the blue and distant mountain of Perongia formed a fine background to the river, presenting a series of bold and jagged peaks. The deep bosom of the Waipa looked dark, and upon its glassy surface our now reduced party embarked in one large canoe, following up the tortuous course of the river. The steep banks forming the margin of the Waipa were in some places covered with the long and drooping leaves of a peculiarly elegant species of fern, that presented the appearance of a continuous sheet of palm-leaves. The yellow kowai trees scattered their blossoms in golden showers upon the face of the stream; and the graceful tui 1 sported in flocks amongst their branches, apparently enjoying the gay place they had chosen to display their glossy plumage.

We now reached the settlement and potato-grounds of Whata Whata, where we landed to pay a visit to the celebrated old chief Te Whero Whero, or Potatau, at whose pah we had been a couple of days previously. Te Whero Whero is the principal chief of all the tribes of Waikato, and has an almost unlimited influence amongst his people. The population

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of the Waikato district amounting to 25,000, renders its tribes second only in importance to those of the Nga-ti-kahuhunu upon the east coast, whose numbers amount to 36,000: in cases of emergency, the Waikatos can bring from 6000 to 7000 fighting men into the field. On the occasion of our visit we found Te Whero Whero engaged in superintending the planting of kumeras in the rich soil of the grounds at Whata, and also directing his people in the erection of a house for himself at that place. My friend had important business with this chief on matters connected with Government; Te Whero Whero having lately proffered a request to the Governor to allow Europeans to settle on the Waikato, being anxious to have pakehas amongst his people, to purchase their produce, and give them European articles in exchange; and he had offered certain lands for sale to the British Government for that purpose.

At the moment of our approach, we found the old chief seated on the damp ground, leaning against a fallen tree, and clad in several old blankets, over which was a piece of sail-cloth. The only effect our arrival had upon this veteran warrior was a smile of welcome: without in any way moving his position, he shook hands with us most heartily; and my friend, seated on the fallen log, was soon engaged with him in deep conversation and argument. Te Whero Whero, like most of the New Zealand orators, is full of imagery and figurative language: alluding to a more recent application than his, which had been

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made to the Government by the chiefs Wiremu Nera, Paratene, and others at Waingaroa on the west coast, for settlers to come amongst them, he said, "Tell the Kawana (Governor) that he must not neglect the elder brother for the sake of the younger."

It having been explained to him that I wished to take his portrait, which would be seen by the Queen of England, and that I had come so many thousands of miles for the purpose of representing the rangatiras 2 of New Zealand, he readily consented; and whilst he was discussing the all-engrossing topic of land, I was busy with my pencil. As it rained pretty fast, I requested that we might remove to some place of shelter; but, owing to a superstitious notion that Te Whero Whero was tapu, and would render tapu any of the surrounding store-houses, he refused to change his position: at the same time he most politely ordered some of his people to erect a temporary shed over me. This was at once done, by fastening some blankets to upright poles, and enthroned beneath this canopy, I painted old Te Whero Whero just as he sat leaning against the tree.

It is a frequent custom for the old heathen chiefs to sit for days together in this apathetic state. When at Porirua in Cook's Straits, I found the aged chief Na Horua, the elder brother of Te Rauparaha, sitting in his potato ground against a fallen tree in a precisely similar manner.

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At the request of my companion, Te Whero Whero was good enough to give me a letter of introduction to Te Heuheu Mananui, or Tukino, the celebrated chief of Taupo Lake in the interior; whither I intended to direct my steps after leaving Kawhia. The following is an exact copy and translation of the letter: --

Copy of a Letter from Te WHERO WHERO to old HEUHEU, at Te Rapa, Taupo Lake.

Whata Whata, Akatopa 4, 1844.
E te Heuheu tena ko koe. E tai kia pai tou atawai ki ti pakeha e haere atu na ki a koe. Na tou ingoa i kawea atu, he kai tuhi tuhi ahua ia, naku hoki na Potatau tenai pakeha. E tai kia atawai koe ki tenei pakeha. Kei he koe ki taku pukapuka, he pakeha tauhou no Ingarangi.
Naku,
Na te hoa,
POTATAU. Ki a te HEUHEU.

(Translation.)

Whata Whata, October 4, 1844.
Friend Heuheu, --Health to you! Let your hospitality be very great to this foreigner who is going to see you. Your name has carried him away. He is a writer of images; he belongs to me--to Potatau. Be kind to this European. Take heed you do not despise my book. He is a strange foreigner from England.
By me.
Your friend,
Potatau. To Heuheu.

Translation of a Letter from Te Whero Whero to the Queen,
written after the death of Governor Hobson: --

Mother, --How farest thou? Great is our love to you, who are residing in your country. My subject is a governor for us, and for

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the foreigners of this island. Let him be a good man; look out for a kind person--a man of judgment. Let not a troubler come here; let not a boy come, or one puffed up with pride. We, the Maories, shall be afraid. Let him be as good as this governor who has just died.
Mother Victoria, let your instructions to the foreigner be good; let him be kind; let him not come here to kill us, seeing that we are a peaceable people. Formerly we were a bad people--a murdering people--a killing people. Now we are sitting peaceably: we have left off the evil. It was you who (appointed) this line of conduct; therefore it is pleasing (to us). This is all I have to say.
From me,
Te WHERO WHERO.

Leaving Whata Whata, we proceeded along the river Waipa to Kowai, a romantic-looking place, where we landed. After cooking some food, we took leave of the canoe, and bidding farewell to our agreeable companions, with Wirihona and his family, we again resumed our old pedestrian mode of travelling, and struck off to the right across the country-- through fern and forest, forest and fern, hills and valleys, swamps and rivers -- towards Waingaroa harbour, on the west coast of the island. Our chief and his wife appeared quite sorry that we were going to leave them: the latter shook hands with us several times, accompanying each shake with a low prolonged squeal, which we endeavoured to imitate again in return.

Our road during the remainder of the day lay through a succession of flooded fern land, swamps, and dripping forests, --ofttimes we were compelled

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to wade for a hundred yards together, and many of the swamps required us to exercise all our ingenuity, to enable us to cross them without disappearing entirely in the middle. The close damp forests, through the intricate mazes of which we wound our way over slippery roots, ankle-deep in mud, were almost overpowering from the fragrance of the delicious horopito, mingled with the gases that arose from the quantity of decaying vegetable matter.

The fuschia is indigenous to the forests of New-Zealand as well as to those of Chili and Patagonia, and the woods through which we travelled were everywhere adorned with an undergrowth of beautiful fuschias, now in full boom. This shrub, in its uncultivated state, bears two distinct sets of flowers --one green and purple, the other purple and red; and the pollen on the anthers of the green blossoms is of the most brilliant cobalt blue colour. So exuberant is vegetable life in these New Zealand forests, that it is difficult to find a space, however small, even upon the trunks of the trees, which is not the receptacle of some plant or lichen. Upon one species of fern I observed that the seeds had already germinated and taken root whilst still upon the back of the leaf: hundreds of young ferns were thus springing up upon the parent plants.

Toiling up the slippery clay sides of some of the open fern hills that intersect the belts of forest, we were repaid by magnificent views of the sur-

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rounding country, and the plains bordering the banks of the Waipa; blue mountains stretched away in the hazy distance, and all the variety of light and shade, storm-cloud, rainbow, and sunshine, played upon the landscape with a singular beauty of effect --and in the windless dells of the woods beneath our feet, above the starry tree ferns, stole stray lingering mists, like unwilling vapours hiding from the breeze.

In crossing a river this afternoon the current was so rapid that it took my lad off his legs, and we were immersed in the stream; we then travelled on till long after dark, seeking in vain for a suitable camping place, and at last we pitched our tent in a wet marshy hollow by a stream, on the borders of a dense forest. Some wild hogs from the forest grunted round our camp all night, and the vile musquitoes managed to get into the tent. Having been knee-deep in rain-water nearly all day, it was not surprising that, combined with sleeping on wet blankets in a swamp, and breathing miasma all night, I should wake in the morning stiff with rheumatism, and nearly blind with cold in the eyes.

Oct. 5th. --This morning we started early, as it was our intention to reach the harbour and mission station of Waingaroa the same evening. We crossed a small ravine near a potato ground, where we met a young woman, who accosted us, with a letter in her hand, which she begged us to take to her brother, who was one of the chiefs of Waingaroa:

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the letter was written with a sharp style, upon a leaf of the New Zealand flax, Phormium tenax; it was about two feet long, and covered with writing on both sides, the characters showing out clearly upon the dark and glossy surface of the leaf.

We passed through much open fern land, hilly, and intersected in the hollows with swamps; and crossed several streams: sometimes on flax leaves tied together, and fastened to the bushes on each bank, sometimes on a fallen tree, and at others we plunged in and waded across. We were joined by numerous natives going to Waingaroa, and soon obtained a glimpse of the many-branched harbour winding amongst the hills before us. The mountain of Kareoi (Woody Head), which forms the southern entrance to Waingaroa harbour, was the resting-place of dense clouds. We descended the hills, and kept round a branch of the harbour for some miles, wading through soft black mud. Rocks of basalt occur here and there, and lava lies scattered in blocks upon the beach: I also procured specimens of gypsum from this neighbourhood.

The first peep of the blue and hazy ocean, from the brow of one of the hills overlooking the mission station of Waingaroa, was grand and solemn. Beyond that ocean lay all I cared for on earth, and many a thought stole across its bosom: the sudden sight of that vast and watery barrier of human hopes and ties, made me feel how truly I was a wanderer in a strange land--a voluntary exile from all I love.

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The sun was going down over the Pacific, brightening the western sky, as though it told of hope and joys yet to be fulfilled, and the low booming of the waves as they dashed upon the shore resounded in the calm air of evening; the day and the week had well-nigh ebbed away, and all nature seemed as though it were preparing for the holy serenity of the morrow's Sabbath.

Oct. 6th. --Late last evening we reached the hospitable roof of the Wesleyan mission station. Mr. Wallis, the missionary, was from home, but his wife received us most kindly, surrounded by a group of half a dozen fine rosy-cheeked children, who bore testimony, in their healthy and happy countenances, to the salubrity of the New Zealand climate.

The mission station stands upon the side of a hill, sheltered from the westerly winds, and overlooking a valley, along which winds one of the many branches of the harbour. The scenery around is remarkably picturesque. The house is about a mile distant from the sea-shore, against which the southern ocean beats in the winter with terrible fury. Along the black sand composing the beach, that small and delicate shell, Spirula Australis, lay scattered in considerable abundance.

In the afternoon I visited the chapel, where I found two classes, composed of persons of all ages, squatted on the floor, reading the Testament in the Maori language with the native teachers, and all intent on their books. They formed a strange-looking

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medley: here and there the richly tattooed face of a chief, and now and then the wrinkled visage of a shrivelled old woman, varied the group. One poor decrepit soul was in mourning--I think it was for her husband; her weeds consisted of a profusion of shreds of red cloth tied round her head, and hanging in a bunch over her forehead. Both the native teachers wore European costume; one of them was strutting round his class, loudly vociferating to his pupils, dressed in a pair of military pantaloons and a white blouse. The other and senior teacher was a mild little man, neatly tattooed, and dressed in an entire suit of faded black cloth: he gave out a hymn, and concluded the service with a prayer.

Oct. 7th. --All day at Waingaroa taking portraits of the principal chiefs. A korero, or gathering of the native orators, was held at the mission station, to meet Forsaith: and the most distinguished of these individuals sat to me for their portraits. So great is the sensation created by the exercise of my art amongst these people, that during the entire day the court-yard has been crowded with natives, all anxious to have their likenesses taken, that they may go to England with those of the Rangatiras: upwards of thirty found their way into the room where I was engaged in painting, and the passage leading to it was crowded to excess, so that there was no getting in or out. In fact, what with Forsaith's Government business, in which they are deeply interested, together with my painting, the whole settlement is in

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a state of unwonted excitement. The day is over; the chiefs have concluded their meeting, at which many energetic and eloquent speeches have been delivered; and two of the principal leaders, Wiremu Nera (William Naylor) or Awaitai, and Paratene Maioha, are sitting with me at the table, writing letters to the Governor; they made me fold their letters for them, and have given me their signatures beneath their portraits.

Oct. 8th. --The chiefs were up at their korero nearly the whole of last night, consulting and conversing with Forsaith; they are exceedingly desirous for Europeans to come amongst them, and have offered a large tract of land to Government for the purpose of forming a township.

I painted Paratene attired in an elegant robe of large size, ornamented with dog's hair; one of those from the southern island, and called by the natives e parawai. Before commencing my sketch, personal vanity overcame the grave orator, and the cannibal warrior of other days; he went into the parlour to Mrs. Wallis, and said, "Mother, let me have a glass, to see that my countenance is right:" being anxious to compose his features in a manner suitable to his own ideas of propriety, before he took his stand for so important a proceeding. Paratene is, notwithstanding numerous peculiarities, a sensible and intelligent man, and much esteemed by those Europeans to whom he is known. Paratene (Broughton) is his baptismal name; his native appellation being Te

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Maioha. He is a cousin of Te Whero Whero, and one of the leading men belonging to the Ngatimahuta branch of the Waikato tribes; and he generally resides in a village, or kainga, on the northern banks of Waingaroa harbour. Eccentricity is the principal feature in the character of Te Maioha; and the scrupulous attention which he invariably pays to those trifling circumstances which constitute his notions of etiquette often makes his conduct highly amusing; yet the correctness of his general conduct, his erudition, and the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour, has obtained for him deferential respect, and a marked ascendancy over many of his equals in rank, --indeed, he is regarded as a perfect oracle. By unwearied application he has obtained a smattering of arithmetic; and one of his most self-satisfactory exploits is the correct solution of some such important problem as the value of a pig of a certain weight, at a given price per pound, making the usual deduction for offal.

Te Awaitaia, baptized Wiremu Nera (William Naylor), is the principal Waingaroa chief, and is a zealous friend both to the mission and to the various European settlers scattered about the harbour, lie belongs to one of the subdivisions of the large Waikato tribe, called Nga ti mahanga, and resides at the foot of the mountainous cape designated on the charts as Woody Head. He is celebrated over all the island for his daring courage as a warrior, having been closely allied with Te Whero Whero,

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and actively engaged in most of the sanguinary conflicts that took place between the united tribes of Waikato and the inhabitants of Taranaki. He was one of the leaders of the expedition against the Taranakians about fifteen years ago, which resulted in the total destruction of the pah Pukerangiora. Upwards of 1800 natives were assembled in the pah, very few of whom escaped; the greater number being killed, and the residue carried captives to Waikato. He was also present at the siege of Nga motu, a pah formerly situated at one extremity of the site now occupied by the settlement of New Plymouth. The inhabitants of this pah were assisted in their defence by several Europeans, who had mounted the guns of a vessel which had been wrecked on the coast, and worked them with such deadly effect that the Waikatos were at length compelled to raise the siege. Several incidents occurred during this siege, which, while they almost elicit a smile at their absurdity, yet strikingly display the unsophisticated character of these people. During the very heat of the contest, a vessel arrived in the offing; a truce was immediately agreed upon in order to secure the advantages of trade, and the besiegers and besieged were soon seen promiscuously hurrying off to the vessel to barter their commodities and supply their wants. The besieged being in possession of a quantity of ready-dressed flax (an article much sought after at that period by the trading vessels on the coast) they exchanged it for a

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plentiful supply of tobacco, an article of which the besiegers were destitute. The vessel soon departed and hostilities recommenced: but, after a few days, another truce was proposed and concluded, for the purpose of trading with each other! The Waikatos were in possession of a great many spare muskets, which they had captured at Pukerangiora, while the besieged were very deficient in arms; a brisk trade was immediately commenced, the Waikatos supplying their enemies with arms, to be turned the next day against themselves, and receiving in exchange a portion of the tobacco that had been procured from the vessel. The scene, as described by an eye-witness, must have been most ludicrous: --the Waikato thrust his musket half way through the palisades of the pah, retaining, however, a firm hold of his property until the intending purchaser from within thrust out in a similar manner the quantity of tobacco he was willing to give; neither party relinquishing his hold of the property about to change hands until he had secured a firm grasp of that offered by his adversary! So pacificating is the influence of trade even upon savages.

When Awaitaia embraced Christianity, Te Whero Whero exclaimed, "I have lost my right arm!" such was that chief's estimate of Awaitaia's prowess as a warrior. Since his profession of Christianity his character has been without a blemish, and if any native might be singled out as an individual evidencing the power of the Gospel truth he professes

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to have received, Wiremu Nera is the man. His deportment and general demeanour are mild in the extreme, and his countenance, when in repose, exhibits a shade of melancholy which at once awakens a feeling of interest; and, except in moments of unusual excitement, when the kindling of his eye betrays the latent embers of a fiery spirit, there is nothing in his appearance calculated to remind the beholder of his proximity to a man whose very name was a terror to his foes. He has proved himself invariably the friend of the colonists, and since the disturbances in the north has offered his services to the Government to defend the capital with the power of his tribe.