Overland from Auckland to Wellington in 1853

F. W. (Francis Wallace) MacKenzie

First published by J. Wilkie and Co. in 1893

Digitised and made available online by the University of Auckland Libraries and Learning Services.

Epub © 2013 Early New Zealand Books Collection

ISBN 978-1-927289-44-0

[TITLE PAGES]

OVERLAND
FROM
Auckland to Wellington
In 1853.

BEING NOTES OF TRAVEL

BY
LIEUTENANT F. W. MACKENZIE,
8TH REGIMENT BOMBAY NATIVE INFANTRY,
AFTERWARDS CAPT. F. W. MACKENZIE, OF GLENKENICH, POMAHAKA, OTAGO.

Dunedin:
J. WILKIE & Co., PRINTERS AND PUBLISHERS.
1893.

[Page ii is blank]

[PREFACE]

PREFACE.

THIS little work is the diary of the late Captain Mackenzie, of Glenkenich, Otago, giving a graphic and interesting account of a journey made by him overland from Auckland to Wellington and Christchurch in the year 1853. A perusal of it will enable the reader to realise the substantial progress the colony has made since its settlement. Captain Mackenzie being a keen observer, and having, too, as keen a sense of the ludicrous, the narrative is not only instructive, but amusing also, and the reader's interest is kept up to the very last page. By the author's relatives these pages will be treasured, and by his friends they will be welcomed as a memento of his life. How kind, how benevolent, how generous, and how true a friend he was those who knew him best can testify – ever ready to help, and never sparing himself to do a kind action to any one in need. His name will not soon be forgotten by those among whom he spent so many years, and who so sincerely mourn his death.

The present opportunity is taken gratefully to acknowledge the kind assistance of Mr S. Percy Smith, Surveyor-General; Mr C. W. Adams, Chief Surveyor; and Mr George B. Bett, whose aid in preparing the following pages, and in revising and correcting the Maori names, has been invaluable.

ANDREW BETT.

"Sometimes God turns our bitter into sweet,
Sometimes He gives us pleasant water springs
Sometimes he shades us with His pillar-cloud.
And sometimes to a blessed palm-shade brings.
What matters it? The time will not be long,
Marah, and Elim will alike be past;
Our desert, wells, and palms will soon be done –
We reach the city of our God at last."

H. BONAR.

DIARY [Auckland to Wellington]

DIARY.

Auckland, October 22, 1853. – To-day landed from the brig "Kestrel," after a passage of 15 days from Melbourne, during which time we had all kinds of weather, from a calm to a gale, with close-reefed topsails.

It has been raining a little this morning, and the land looks bright and green. The country about here is undulating, and almost destitute of trees. The land along the coast is rather high, and appears to consist of a kind of sandstone. From the harbour the town has rather an imposing appearance – the houses all rise above one another, and the different churches and other large buildings add to the effect. The interior of the place, however, has but a poor appearance. The houses are very irregular and mean-looking, and the steep, uneven streets make it look more like a jumble of temporary dwellings dotted down at random than a regularly laid out town.

Sunday, 23. – Attended the Free Church, which is a nice substantial building, and heard a good sermon on Heb. xi., 24-26.

Monday, 24. – John and I, with two farmers from Port Phillip, intended to go up the river 20 miles in a boat, but, on reaching the wharf, found

we were too late for to-day, as the tide would soon ebb, and it is necessary to go up with the flood. Took a short walk, but the heat was too oppressive to go far. We passed some very lovely gardens, round neat cottages, just outside the town. Everything here seems to grow most luxuriantly; even the grass by the wayside looks as if you could see it growing. I am told that all the land round the town, good and bad, has been purchased, and that there is none to be had (except at second hand, and consequently at an enormous price) within 20 miles. The population of this province is said to be 70,000, and comprises two-thirds of the Native and one-third of the European inhabitants of these islands. There are said to be about 20,000 acres of fenced land, and land under cultivation, in the neighbourhood of Auckland. In fact, from all I can hear and see, this is as prosperous a place as can well be. The Natives are very numerous here. All the old ones are tattooed, which gives them a very extraordinary appearance. The men have generally a most intelligent look. They are not the least like Australians, but resemble Arabs in their features more than any other race I have seen. They seem to beat the Patlanders hollow at pig-driving. I see them coming in every morning, sometimes with three or four pigs in front of them, each having a string tied to its hind leg; and when the man wishes the animal to advance he gives the string a smart pull backwards, upon which the pig runs forward.

Tuesday, 25. – Our landlord advises me to go overland to Wellington, by which means I should see a great deal of the country and also of the Natives. Another "party" said no doubt I should like it, but he feared I should find it very dull, not having any-

one to talk to, as I am unacquainted with the Maori language.

We took a boat to-day and went ten miles up the river. We landed on an island called Wood's Island 1 – a pretty spot, where there had been a garden. There were a great many rose trees in full blossom, and also an immense quantity of strawberry plants in flower. The place was also covered with fine English grass, and there were a great many wattle trees, but all in confusion. It had evidently been allowed to run to waste for years. The boatman told us the island belonged to a person of the name of Wood. He thought it had been given to a Native half-caste daughter of his by a Native chief, and although he wished to sell it, he could not. The country on both sides of the river is of the same unmeaning character as here – few or no trees to be seen – but still it looks green and pretty. The river is very deep, and in some places opens out to a great width, the shores being indented with bays and creeks, which gives them a very varied, and in some places, pretty appearance. The banks are very high and rocky, with stunted trees and ferns interspersed here and there.

The trip cost us £1 – not much, as there were four of us.

Wednesday, 26. – I am told that the route overland to Wellington is quite safe, and at this season will not be at all unpleasant. We shall have to take some Natives with us to carry our things, and walk perhaps 20 or 30 miles a day. I tried to get a map of the country, but there is not such a thing to be had in Auckland. This evening I took a drive out into the country. The road is a very good one, and

as far as I went was lined with pretty houses, fields, and hedges, the view being more like what I remember of Home than anything I have seen since I left it.

I hear that there is still a great deal of land for sale at the Manukau harbour on the other side, six miles from this place. The land is said to be very good, and the Manukau harbour is superior to this one. The land sells for 10s per acre to the first claimant, and costs £4 to fence and bring under cultivation; and from all I can hear the purchasers of it are certain of a very speedy and large return.

Thursday, 27. – To-day making enquiries for men to accompany us overland to Wellington.

Friday, 28. – This morning the cook brought up some Maoris who said they were willing to go. After a good deal of talk they said we should require three, and that they would charge 4s a day, and expect us to feed them on the way. We told them to return in the evening, intending in the meantime to make enquiries as to whether they were imposing on us or not. They then said that they intended to send two of their relations with us, and that they were out of town, but would return in the evening. They seemed astonished to hear me speak Hindoostanee to the cook, and asked where we came from, so the cook told them we were from his country. This cook is an Indian, and was taken prisoner and kept as a slave by the Maoris a long time ago. He was purchased from them for an iron pot by some settler, and set at liberty. He has been a great man among the Natives, and has received several wounds while fighting during his sojourn amongst them.

Rode out six miles to-day to a pensioner village called Onehunga on the Manukau harbour. It is likely to become a place of importance ere long. The harbour has been reported a very good one, into which vessels of large tonnage can come at any time of the tide. The country in that direction is a succession of slopes and hills, some of them pretty high. A great part of it has been cleared of fern, and is now in grass. The roadside is lined with very pretty cottages and gardens, and all the fields are fenced in, many having black-thorn hedges. It is a pretty country to a farmer's eye, but to mine it looked bare, as there are almost no trees. There is a good made road about two-thirds of the way, and they talk of finishing it soon.

From the routes laid down in the Church Almanac, I find that in going by the back of the mountains we shall have 222 miles to travel by water. Such being the case, we have determined to hire men only to the Waikato River - 45 miles from here – where we embark, and get others when we land again 72 miles up. I am told that the land on the Waikato will ere long be bought by the Government, and be for sale to the European settlers. It is, I understand, a splendid country. The river is navigable for craft of 30 tons for 100 miles up, and there is a creek runs out of it to within one mile of the Manukau harbour (6 miles hence), so that there will be water carriage nearly the whole of the way for the settlers in that district. All the land within 30 miles of this is bought, and from beyond that distance there would be more difficulty in bringing produce to market than 100 miles up the Waikato.

The weather ever since we landed has been delightful. I thought the place too hot when first I came, but I now find that it is entirely in confined

situations. There is generally a fine breeze all day, and the people here say that the climate varies but little all the year round.

I succeeded to-day in getting a map of the country from a person in the coffee-room. I have been taking lessons in Maori from the cook, and hope to be able to make myself understood before we reach Wellington, as none of our men can speak English.

Saturday, 29. – Engaged all day purchasing provisions for our journey, and packing up. We have five Natives going with us – three men and two women.

Sunday, SO. – Attended service at the Free Church, and in the evening went to the English Church, where I heard a most excellent sermon from the Bishop on Phil. iv. 3, showing that good works are as certain to be produced by those whose names are written in the Book of Life as good fruit is to be produced by a good tree; but still they (good works) can never earn grace, but must follow and be the result of it to be acceptable in the sight of God; and as the Book of Life is a sealed book, and always must remain so till the Great Day, it remains for Christians to strive continually.

Monday, 31. – Left Auckland this morning with three men and two women carrying our luggage slung like knapsacks on their backs. It is astonishing how much they will carry in this way without seeming to feel it much. The country we passed through is of the same character as that round Auckland, excepting two or three patches of wood through which we passed. In one of these our cap-

tain (Einyoa) had a kit of potatoes laid for his use on his return to his village. The trees are very high, and not so spreading as those in Australia. Many are covered with creepers up to the very top. They are very close together, and the numbers of supplejacks which grow up between them and fix themselves on the branches, make it impossible in most places to penetrate far into the forest without using knife or axe. The supplejacks are like bamboos, but are so flexible that they can be bent into any shape. At 4 p. m. we arrived at Te Horomanga. We put up for the night in a deserted hut, 2 where we had a sound and refreshing sleep after a walk of 28 miles.

Tuesday, November 1. – Up at day-break, and after having some tea and bread and butter, while our attendants regaled themselves with a large pot of potatoes, we started about 6 a. m. on our second day's march. After about two miles we crossed the Tauranga on some planks laid across the stream and resting in the middle on a wooden horse. 3 After crossing this stream, we began to enter the forest and leave the undulating fern-covered country behind us. We soon found ourselves in a small path cut through the forest, and just sufficiently cleared to allow one man at a time to walk along among the stumps and roots. We passed several open places where the Natives cultivate wheat and potatoes. After a much more fatiguing day's work than the preceding we arrived at the place where we were to embark in the canoe. 4 We passed the first Native village to-day. Their houses – or rather huts – have a very neat appearance, and are all

fenced in, each one separate from the other's, having stiles leading from one enclosure to the other, to prevent the pigs from going into their neighbour's grounds. After we got into the canoe we proceeded down the creek on which it was until we reached the Mangatawhiri creek. We had great difficulty in getting along owing to the river being so narrow and winding, and the canoe being so very long – not much under 50 feet, I should think. After going along the Mangatawhiri for some time, we got into the Waikato, a noble river, and here very rapid. 5 Having paddled up for about a mile, we pitched our tent on the bank, and camped for the night. We had been fortunate enough to shoot two ducks to-day, also a large pigeon. On one of the former we made a good supper, and turned in on our fern beds, with some of our men lying near us.

Wednesday, 2. – Started at half-past 6 a. m., having had a good night's rest in our little tent. The banks here are lined with innumerable kinds of trees and plants. The largest are principally pine-trees, which seem to be a very fine timber. There are many like palms, which, I believe, are called Ti, or cabbage tree, here. The fern trees are also like palms, and very beautiful. We passed several islands, looking like beautiful gardens in the distance, and saw several wheat fields belonging to the Natives. In many places the trees are covered with creepers, and altogether the scenery here is very lovely. We passed some canoes laden with flax and wheat belonging to European traders. We spoke to one of them (a half-caste), who told us that his partner lived at the place we were going to, and would be happy to assist us in procuring men to take us on

our way. Having a fair wind we sailed a good way to-day, although it was rather unpleasant, as the wind was high, the canoe narrow, and the water often coming over the side. At night we halted at a village called Waitoto, and pitched inside a Native hut enclosure. Our tent was soon filled with Maoris. Some of them brought slates with calculations of the amount they expected to get for their wheat, and asked us to see if they were correct. They seemed very intelligent, and knew most of the Native names on the map. They picked up the bones of a duck from which we had dined, and seemed delighted to get a small piece of bread or biscuit. There were a great many children, as healthy-looking as the little pigs which run at liberty in great numbers, poking their heads amongst the people as they sit at dinner, contending for stray potatoes with the dogs. They have prayers and singing morning and evening with great regularity.

Thursday, 3. – Awakened by a bell calling the Maoris to prayers. We had a good night's rest. Found our tent quite wet with dew. Had to breakfast tea, the last of our stock of bread, and the leg of a boiled duck each, and got under weigh at 7 a. m. The banks here are low. Many low islands covered with flax and scrub. There must be plenty of good land between the river and the hills here, the hills being in some places three or four miles from the bank. There are great quantities of pumice stones on the banks, in some places sticking high up in the branches of the bushes. At first sight it seemed extraordinary how stones perhaps a foot thick could get up there, but on examining one I found that probably they float down the stream when the water is high, and remain in the trees when it subsides.

We passed more islands and grounded once on one of them. The banks are low, and clear of trees the greater part of the way. Towards evening we approached the hills, through which we could perceive no opening until we came almost to the foot of them, when a valley opened out to our left. The hills here come down to the water's edge. They have few trees except on the ravines. The sun has been hot to-day, but not powerful, as our gun-barrels were not hot. I noticed quantities of peach-trees at all the Native settlements we passed. A little further on the scene is beautiful. The hills, indented by deep ravines, come down to the very edge of the water. On one side the high-peaked hill of Taupiri, covered to the top with trees of every tint, and on the other fern-covered ridges, throwing the wooded ravines into partial shade, have a charming effect. The captain informed us that this is a mission station, 6 and as soon as we landed I went and called on the missionary, Mr Ashwell, and asked him to assist us in getting men to go on. Just as we were talking he was told that a little child belonging to the station was missing, upon which he got into a flurry, so I thought as I could be of no use, the best thing was to return to the pa (village) to sleep, which I did. We took tea with Mr Ashwell and his family, and he promised to do all he could for us. In the evening he came down to the pa to tell us the child had been found and ask us to go to his house to sleep; but as we were in a very comfortable hut, and had all our things there, we thought it best to remain, and promised to call on him again in the morning.

Friday, 4. – Up at day-light, after our first night in a Native hut. It is somewhat like an Australian

slab-hut. The walls are formed principally of pieces of the trunks of fern-trees. The thatch is, first, a layer of nikau palm branches, very neatly plaited, over that flags or flax-leaves, and the whole covered with a network of tangled roots to keep it from being blown off by the wind. The roof is very thick, and as there was a fire the smoke rose up and filled the place with a thick cloud, which came as low as the shoulders when one stood up. Below, the smoke was blown away through the crevices in the walls.

I determined this morning to call on the trader who lived on the other side to ask his assistance in procuring men to go up the river with us, as the missionary seemed to have a great dislike to the only people who were present here, the greater part of them being absent at their potato grounds just now. I accordingly called upon the trader, who at once accompanied me to a pa some way up the river, where I engaged three men (one of them being the man who had brought us up) to go on for about 40 miles for £1 a-piece, including canoe. I knew that this was a large sum for them, but after talking for above an hour, I saw there was no chance of getting men for less. They all have a great idea of the value of their services just now, as it is their harvest-time. When I returned to the pa I got some breakfast, and while I was eating Mr Ashwell came in and said he was sorry I had engaged these men, because they were in disgrace, or something of the kind. However, he began talking to them, and after many words they all agreed to go with us as far as Wanganui for £6 a-head, which Mr Ashwell said was a much better bargain than the first.

We then accompanied Mr Ashwell to see his girls' school, and a more interesting or gratifying

sight I never had the pleasure of witnessing. There were about 50 girls present of all ages, from 6 to 17 years old or thereabouts. They looked neat and clean, and infinitely better than any we had seen at the villages on the way up. They were all intelligent-looking, and some rather pretty. Mr Ashwell began by making them chant their arithmetic tables, which they did very prettily. He told us that they had generally such a good ear for music that he found that method of teaching them answer better than any other. He then showed us they could count, and they exhibited great quickness in adding up figures as fast as he could speak them, and telling the amount in pounds, shillings, and pence as directed. Afterwards some of them read English from the Testament, and two of them wrote correctly in English on a small slate. They also shewed considerable knowledge of the Bible by answering any questions which were put to them. They pointed out on the map the principal countries and chief towns, concluding by singing several little songs and glees, which they did admirably, taking different parts. None of these girls had been more than three years in the school, and before admission were perfect savages. Altogether it was a very pleasing sight, and showed amply the immense amount of good of which the missionary labours have been productive in this country. Mr Ashwell has been in it, in different parts, for twenty years, and although the great mass of the people have but learnt the forms and precepts of religion, surely that alone is a great good; and it is infinitely better that they should repeat their prayers and sing the morning and evening hymn than assist, as formerly, at some bloody rite. Their great failing now seems to be avarice. They think of nothing but how to get

money; but it is the same with nine out of every ten amongst educated Europeans. After school we dined with Mr Ashwell and his family, and a person they called Miss McIntosh, who is teacher, I suppose. The children dined at two long tables in the same room. After dinner, having received a note of introduction to Mr Taylor at Wanganui, we bade the hospitable missionary and his family farewell and crossed the river to the trader's house to get some shot, which he let us have as a great favour for 8d per lb. This evening we got no further than the pa to which I had gone in the morning to engage men, as we were detained so long at the mission-house and the trader's.

Saturday, 5. – We slept last night in the tent of one of our boatmen, as he declared it was free from fleas. At 6 a. m. we started in our new canoe, with three men pulling. As the stream was rapid and the wind strong against us, we made but little way; and as we were detained for nearly two hours after starting by two of our men (I suppose bidding adieu to their families), we did not get into the Waipa till a quarter past nine. A short distance from the village we passed a place where the missionary is having a boys' school put up, and a little way further on we passed Pepepe, where Mr Ashwell formerly lived. It is a little hill overhanging the river, and separated from the mainland by a small creek. It is a lovely spot, 7 covered now with roses, acacias, and other beautiful shrubs, as well as fruit trees, but all quite wild. All along the river I noticed peach trees wherever there were Native settlements. The Waipa is very still – almost no stream. It winds very much, so that though we travel a good deal by water it is but a short way in a direct line. We

dined at 2 p. m. at a Native hut on fried bacon and potatoes sliced. I shot a great many ducks to-day, and I noticed the Native fences. They are made of upright stakes of unequal lengths lashed with roots to a horizontal bar, and are well calculated to keep out the pigs, of which I am told there are numbers wild here. Some of their fences have pieces of wood carved to represent human heads and bodies; these carved pieces are placed at equal distances along the line. We halted for the night at some huts on the left bank, and shot several ducks in a swamp near. The mosquitoes are very annoying here, as also a kind of small black fly which bites as badly as a flea (sandfly?).

Sunday, 6. – Halted to-day. We had a visit from a European trader located here. He stayed so long I thought he was never going; but as we did not ask him in to our tent, or shewed him the slightest civility, he went off. A Maori brought in the skin of a young bird to-day which they call kiwi. The feathers are like the emu's. They said the old one was 2 feet high, and the eggs as large as a man's hand.

Monday, 7. – Pursuing the course of the Waipa, came to a place where it winds round four miles, 8 while the direct road is but a quarter of a mile across. We got out of the canoe and walked. We met a Native who at once began to try and sell a pig. We gave him a small bit of tobacco to show us the way. He afterwards brought us the pig, but it was thin and sickly-looking, so we would not have it. He asked 6s for it, but afterwards came down to 2s. At night we pitched our tent, and finding it very cold, lighted a fire in front of it.

Tuesday, 8. – This morning raining. Some Natives brought us a little book in English and Maori, a narrative of a trip to Taupo, 9 but as it was a different route from the one we intended to take, we could get no information from it. Our tent keeps the rain out pretty well as yet, but I fear if it comes on a heavy downpour we shall be all wet to the skin. After an hour's pull the stream gets very rapid. 10 Our men had to tow the canoe. As we advanced the stream increased in rapidity, and the men had to get out and push the canoe along, wading in the middle of the river, as it is too shallow near the banks. The banks here are high and fern-clad, burnt in many places, with few trees, except tall dead pines. I landed here and noticed quantities of daisies under the ferns. On the banks there are mint and wild cabbage, and also large quantities of docks, which in some places quite cover the ground. On the left bank there is a high hill. 11 The country between it and the river is pretty level, though still undulating and covered with fern; it looks better land than most of what I saw under crop at Auckland. After the rapids the river is again still and wide as before for a short way. I saw a little black bird – the tui – smaller than those we noticed further down. The Puniu, 12 which here joins the Waipa, appears to be about half its size. At 12 o'clock we halted at a settler's house 13 – he was from home. We had met him a short way down on his way to Auckland with canoes laden with produce. We saw his half-caste son, a very intelligent-looking lad, who, as soon as

we arrived, set about cooking our dinner for us – boiled potatoes, fried bacon and eggs, and cakes, with some stuff he called coffee, but tasted more like burnt Indian corn than anything I could think of. The house was of wood, consisting of three rooms – one of which, in the centre, did duty for kitchen, bedroom, and dining room. The other two were stores.

We bought a pound of tobacco; he could not spare more. It was evidently manufactured expressly for the Natives, as each piece was only about half the usual weight. I asked the lad how long his father had been in the country; he said 27 years. He told me that once when his father was very badly off for shoes, he got a lot of smoked Maori heads and took them down to the coast, where he sold them for £1 each. The Native who carried them had no idea what they were until the bundle was opened, when the discovery filled him with astonishment and horror.

After we left the settler's house we passed more rapids. We were surprised at the skill which our men showed in guiding and propelling the canoe through them. The river is very narrow here, and the banks are high and steep, with many pretty waterfalls tumbling over them, as the rocks jut out in some places far across the stream. Three miles further on, after passing another considerable rapid, we came to the junction of the Motakurarua, where there is another European settler. The principal occupation of these men seems to be salting pork. They buy it alive from the Natives at l 1/2d per lb., salt it and dry it, and sell it in Auckland for 1s 6d per lb. We halted for the night at a very miserable-looking Native hut, and pitched our tent. Soon after our arrival an old woman began crying to two

of our men who had lately lost a relation. It is a most ridiculous ceremony, and all the other Natives, by their fits of laughter, seemed to enjoy the fun. After crying for about a quarter of an hour the hag rubbed noses with each of the men for at least three minutes. I could see the tears pouring out of their eyes; but it was all a pretence, for one minute after it was over they were all laughing and joking again as if nothing had happened.

Wednesday, 9. – Rained all night. My body is bitten all over by fleas, gnats, and mosquitoes. We leave the canoe here and take to the road again. Our men wish to halt a day on account of the rain, but we insist upon pushing on, and started at 20 minutes to 10. After passing through a large paddock belonging to the Wesleyan mission station here 14 – in which we saw lots of fat cattle, sheep, and pigs – we crossed the Waipa and struck away across the country. The whole way was a succession of fern-clad downs with deep ravines between, having swampy creeks at the bottom of the ravines. We passed a mountain on our left called Kakepuke, and at 5 p. m. came to our halting-place, Mohaonui – a large Native settlement, where they grow wheat and have a flour water mill worked by Natives. Some years ago the present Governor sent a present of a plough and pair of horses with a man to use them to a Native chief somewhere up here. In a short time the chief sent and asked the Governor to come and visit him. When he arrived he found ten ploughs and ten pairs of horses drawn up in a line, with the original plough and pair and English ploughman at their head, the ten Native ploughmen dressed like him. The chief, pointing to them, said: "Governor,

this plough which you sent me was the egg; behold the bird which it produced!" This place is on the banks of the Waipa, which we skirted for the last few miles of our march. To-day we travel on the borders of a pine forest, which is prettily situated. Here we again saw the crying farce to perfection. An old woman in a black mat began to howl as soon as we came up, tears pouring out of her eyes, and something not so romantic from her nose and mouth, till at last, seeming no longer able to restrain herself, she rushed on our unfortunate Maori and hugged him and rubbed noses for nearly a quarter of an hour.

Thursday, 10. – Rain all night; slight showers this morning. Here we tried to hire a horse; they wanted £8 to Taupo. Our men declare that they do not know the way to Taupo, and that the people here say the road is a shockingly bad one, whereas the direct road to the head of the Wanganui is represented as being much shorter and better – in fact, they seem most unwilling to go to Taupo at all, so we have determined to give up our intention of going that way and make the best of our way to Wanganui. We started at 20 minutes to 9 a. m. It rained the whole way. The first part of the road was the same as that we passed yesterday. At half-past 11 we halted for our men to eat, there being no Natives after passing this place for the remainder of our day's journey. The country becomes more hilly, the path going often straight over the top of the hills, through slippery clay. The valleys are pine forests, with thick underwood, through which we have to force our way. Sometimes the road passes along the tops of ridges level with the tops of the trees. About 4 p. m. we came to a clearing after crossing a deep

stream on a plank two feet under the surface of the water. Here we found great numbers of fine peach trees and quantities of water-cresses. The country round was thickly timbered. We put up in the kitchen, as the house belonging to the clearing was full of fleas.

Friday, 11. – Rained all night, but clear in the morning. About 8 a. m. we prepared to start. Found that a man who passed us yesterday on horseback had come on to entertain us here, there being no Natives at present at this place. Here we hired a guide who happened to come in this morning. He agreed to take us to the head of the Wanganui for ten pieces of tobacco. At first he asked £1 10s, but when we asked him how much tobacco, he at once said ten pieces, showing that he did not know much of the value of the fragrant weed. We had no fleas last night, and slept well. There is a good deal of fine wheat about here. The first part of the way today was dense forest and deep mud, and it was with great difficulty we pushed our way through the thick underwood. The country, too, is hilly, and after we passed the forest it became more hilly. We crossed the sources of many streams and began to ascend the mountains which divide this part of the country from the West Coast. The road here goes up a ridge only a few feet wide, and looks almost as if it had been made as far as half way up the mountain. Here we halted to take breath, and we had a fine view of the country we had just traversed. The low ground here is bare, while the surrounding hills are covered with forest. The hill we now ascended was a precipice of mud and tangled roots, with numerous dead trees lying across the path. After passing these with great labour, we found ourselves entering the valley

of Mokau, on the other side of which we were entertained by an old savage and his two wives. He gave our men pork, which he had killed in the bush. The Natives are too parsimonious to eat their tame pigs. After leaving this place we had great difficulty in getting along, owing to the numerous perpendicular places we had to pass over. At last, being nearly dark, and I having a severe pain in my left knee, we determined to halt. John and I pitched our little tent on a string stretched on our walking sticks; and having boiled some potatoes with a fire made of dry tea-tree scrub, we went to sleep.

Saturday, 12. – Started at half-past 6 a. m. We went up the valley for a mile, then over a very steep hill down into a forest, after which we crossed a swampy valley, then the Mapara River at a quarter to 11 a. m. After ascending a forest-clad hill we halted at an opening at the top, from which we had a view of the valley beyond this, which we have to pass. It was a magnificent view, picturesque and beautiful to a degree, but anything rather than pleasant to us who had to cross it. Here our men cooked their remaining potatoes, roasting them on twigs like kebobs. They light a large fire, and placing the potato kebobs on the top, pass the time till they are ready roasting and eating seeds about the size of almonds, of which great numbers strew the ground. The rain, which had ceased for sometime, began again. At 2 p. m. we halted at a house which our men said belonged to an "Irishman" (i. e., a Maori Roman Catholic). It was on the top of a high hill, from which we saw the Ongaruhe, which joins the Wanganui. We had a very laborious and painful march to-day, and look forward to to-morrow as a day of rest with great

satisfaction. The greater part of our road lay over forest-covered mountains – the path often so steep and slippery that where there were no trees we had to use both hands and feet to get along at all. The long ferns (of which we saw some 25 feet in length) were blown across the path by the wind and impeded our progress very much. The Irishman being from home, our men commenced a hunt for potatoes, which they soon found and appropriated, saying they will leave payment and a letter informing the host on his return.

Sunday, 13. – A beautiful day after the rain of last night, which came in on my bed through the roof and walls. We had an early breakfast. The Maoris began gabbling over the Church of England prayers so fast that I cannot help thinking they do it more to show off their learning to us than from feelings of devotion. They observe the Sabbath most religiously so far as abstaining from work goes, but I fear that in general their religion does not go much beyond this and their prayer-reading. The snow-clad mountain of Ruapehu is in sight – the first snow I have seen for years. We have still about half of our journey before us, and are now a long way from the sea. Thinking of what they are doing at Konawarran just now, I begin to feel sad. I open my book and my eye falls on the words, "Though absent in the flesh, yet am I with you in the spirit."

Monday, 14. – Off at 6 o'clock, ascending the mountain. Cross the Ongaruhe, Waimeha, and Mura-Mura three times, and the Wairua, all small streams flowing into the Wanganui. Then we crossed the Mangatukutuku, also a tributary of the Wanganui, and climbed some very steep hills to the Irishman's

rural residence, where we made his acquaintance and paid him for his potatoes. He offered to take us down the river for the small sum of £7, but as we had been told that £2, or at the most £3, was the proper sum to give, we declined his offer; and after our men had another feed of potatoes we set out down the hill through a dense forest into a fern-clad valley, along the banks of a stream which is intersected by numerous deep ravines. At half-past 4 we camped on the opposite side of the stream, where was a curious castle-like rock hanging over the stream. We had a good night's rest in the tent, lulled to sleep by the music of a beautiful waterfall in the stream near us.

The country about here is all volcanic, and where the streams have washed away their banks so as to expose the soil, it seems to be pumice and ashes. There are few stones except the rocks which stick up here and there, and small smooth stones in the beds of the streams. The low ground is generally clad with coarse grass instead of fern.

Tuesday, 15. – Off at half-past 5. At 7 we halted at a village called Otamuka, where our men fed. From thence down a forest-clad steep into a volcanic valley, with coarse grass and moss the same as we saw yesterday. We are informed that Taupo is eleven days' journey from here, though by the map it seems only about ten miles. To-day we saw two tame ka-kas (a kind of parrot), kept as a decoy by the Natives. We are at halt at Pahawk. 15 Tongariro is smoking to the S. E. 1/2 S.. Ruapehu S. E. 1/2 E. After about two hours' talk with the Natives here, we hired a man and canoe to take us down to Petre 16 for three pounds. They at first asked £7, but we offered

£2, and at last, seeing no chance of their taking that, we raised it to £3, and they soon agreed to take it. The men here seem quite as sharp at bargain-making as their brethren in the North; in fact, they are all an avaricious set, and kindness or generosity seems quite thrown away upon them. If you give them anything they take it like dogs, without even a grunt of thanks, and, I do believe, think you a soft fool for parting with it for nothing.

Wednesday, 6th. – After a good sleep in our tent we started at half-past 6 a. m. The road leads down the valley, across the stream twice, and over numerous swamps until we come to the place where we are to embark in the canoe. We found the canoe to be of a kind which has two boards laced on either side, as the tree out of which it was made was not large enough. These boards had to be put on, and our men set to work with strips of flax and gimlet in hand. They caulked the seam with the down of a kind of long grass which grows on the banks, 17 and the operation took nearly four hours. Soon alter we arrived here we were found by some other men, and a whole troop of women and children, dogs and pigs. They at once began cooking, and our men put on our can of potatoes. Soon the Maori pot was steaming away, and we had our dinner – the first one we had had on potatoes alone, all our supplies, except salt, a little tea, and some butter, being expended. The Maori pot consists of a hole in the ground about 2 feet deep and 1 1/2 feet wide; into this they put a number of red-hot stones, covering them with grass and vegetables. On the top of these the potatoes were heaped, and covered over with old rags of mats well wetted; then some water is poured over the

whole, which, running down on to the hot stones, causes dense clouds of steam to rise, which soon cook the potatoes and greens. Sometimes I have seen the whole covered with earth to keep in the steam more effectually. Yesterday we tried to purchase a pig, but the owner would not come to reasonable terms. About 2 p. m. our canoe was finished and we embarked. While we were waiting for the canoe, John and I stripped and took a bath, and washed our clothes, the Natives watching and admiring the operation, especially the dressing and hair-combing – of which, from their appearance, I should suppose they had but slight knowledge from personal experience. One of our men on the march combed his hair with a piece of fern, and then oiled it with a piece of bacon fat which he begged from us for the purpose.

The Natives call the stream here the Pakiki, but that name is not down on the map. The Ngarui joins it near this place. The Pakiki is so very shallow and rapid that the canoe had to be guided with poles, the men being always ready to jump out to shove her over the shallow places. After the junction the river is larger, and the canoe floats well. It is still very rapid, and about the size of the Waipa where we left it first. The banks are fern-clad, here and there broken, and very high, the soil being pumice and ashes. Level with the water there is pudding-stone rock, and the bed of the stream is composed of small round stones.

At 4 o'clock we entered the Wanganui, and shot eight pigeons. At dark we halted in a bit of forest on the perpendicular bank, and dined on two of our pigeons. They were very acceptable after our first potato dinner, though they were rank and anything but good eating. They are very stupid birds, and

when shot at frequently fly but a short way and light again within range.

Thursday, 17. – Started at half-past 6 a. m. The banks here are high hills, clad with bushes, and very pretty. To day, while shooting a tremendous rapid we grounded on a large stone and expected to see the canoe turn over, but our men got her off again without damage. It is nervous work. While gliding along in smooth water, suddenly a roar is heard ahead; the boatmens' songs cease, they stand up, and a great deal of talking follows. At length, just as we begin to glide down a glass-like bank of water which sweeps noiselessly down with lightning speed, they seem to have determined which course to steer, and sitting down again, paddle for dear life. The canoe shoots down at a fearful rate, and in a moment is dashing through the broken water amongst large stones which frequently leave but three or four feet of clear passage. Sometimes they have to head across the current, and it seems as though the canoe must be dashed sideways against some large stone, but they manage her so well and propel her so swiftly that the current to all appearance affects her course but little, and in a few moments we are in smooth water again, with the fall roaring behind us.

We saw a number of dark brown parrots – kaka, I suppose. The scenery is very beautiful here – the river banks are high mountains covered with tall, graceful pines, with festoons of creeping plants from tree to tree, a dense and many-tinted underwood, with the feathery fern-tree here and there rearing its delicate head above the smaller shrubs. The verdure extends down to the water's edge, and wherever there are no bushes the soil is hid by the long palm-like ferns, which over-top each other, so

that not a spot of earth is to be seen. The rapid stream and fast-plunging paddles hurry us past with railway speed, so that the scene is ever changing, but still seems the same – indeed, one reach of the river is so like another that it would be impossible for me to recollect any particular spot. At 9 we passed the village of Terukura, and soon after we came to a fall of 4ft. perpendicular. The baggage was all taken out, and our canoe lowered down with a rope attached to the stern. The old women and children in the other canoe came out and our Wanganui men got into it, and, with the man it belonged to, took it down the fall flying, much to the admiration of our Waikato boys. At 12 we passed the junction of the Ohura, which falls into the Wanganui from a height of about five or eight feet. There is a village here. At the junction of the Whitikau, we were detained for about an hour for potatoes. The man wanted four pieces of tobacco for a kit, but we threw down two, the number we had been in the habit of giving all the way down, when after a little grumbling he took them up. Had we given four we should have had to give the same number all the way down. The banks are nearly perpendicular – some thousand feet high, I should say – and covered with verdure down to the water's edge. Looking forward, it seems as though there were no opening, and the same behind us. We appear to be in a mountain-bound lake, rushing on with great speed. Here, on one side, are holes in the smooth rock, worn by the poles of upward-bound canoes – some very high up, showing that the river must have fallen since they were made. Our Waikato men cannot restrain their exclamations of wonder at a drop of three feet where the stream, striking with great violence against the opposite

rock, seems to all appearance to enter the mountain by a triangular cave; but not so in reality – it flows out again by an under-current. At dark we brought up on the left bank at a small village, and, after a great deal of talk, purchased a pig for £1. We ought to have got it for 10s, but the owner said that a white man there had once given 25s for a pig, and he would not take less than a pound. They fancy, when anyone happens through ignorance of the proper price to give more, that all those who have bought from them before have cheated them, and that the greater sum must be the proper one to charge to all future comers. Two of our men killed the pig, and pulling up a small canoe, shoved him into it, and in fact dressed him as well as any European butcher could do. I fancy they wanted to show the Natives how well they could do it. We made a very good dinner on the pig's liver fried, and boiled potatoes. We gave our men the head and fore-quarters, reserving the two hind legs for our own use. I noticed that they cut off and ate all the little pieces they could, and even picked up little bits which we rejected. After dinner we retired to our blankets and had a sound and comfortable sleep.

Friday, 18. – Off at half-past 6, after having breakfasted on pork chops – the nicest I ever tasted. I have often heard that the fern-root fed pig is superior to any other, and so we found it. There are an immense number of birds here. They made the forest echo with their voices this morning. We passed three small streams joining on the right bank. The banks are of the same description as those we passed yesterday. Rain came on at 11 a. m. At 4 o'clock we halted on the right bank at a wattle and daub house which belonged to a European

pork-salter who had left three months before. The house was locked, so we put up in the salting-shed, putting our tent so as to make a wall on the wind-ward side and cover us overhead. We passed a comfortable night, congratulating ourselves on having such good shelter from the rain, and on being free from fleas. On arrival here we could not find our salt, the only remains of our Auckland stock of provisions. The savage who had charge of the place produced some, however, on promise of a piece of tobacco, and we dined on some more of our pork. On opening out my blankets I found the missing salt. I had put it in then to keep it from the rain.

Saturday, 19. – A great deal of rain fell during the night, but to-day it is fine. At 7 a. m. we started. Passed Pipiriki, a very beautiful spot, with many patches of ground under wheat. The population must be considerable, judging from the great number of canoes we observed in the water and on the banks. We saw a pretty large church with a cross on it, which our men said must be a Roman Catholic place. As we proceed the Native settlements are very numerous. Many villages have substantial churches, built of boards, and shingled. There is a great deal of wheat in small patches on both sides of the river. We passed many canoes on their way up. In one there was a cow lashed – a rather extraordinary mode of conveyance for her. Halted for dinner at Whunimiti, where a great man came and shook hands with us. Our men rubbed noses, but did not speak with him. The Natives here collected round in great numbers, and when we went a little way off to eat our dinner they followed us and sat round us, so at last we had to retire to

our canoe. Our men joined us and ate their food after we had dropped down some way. The Natives seemed displeased at not getting anything out of us. At dark we pitched on the right bank of the river near a hut, from the owner of which we purchased a supply of firewood for Sunday, there being no wood about here. Our tent was filled with myriads of gnats and mosquitoes, and during the night we were dreadfully bitten. It rained hard all night. Our Wanganui man put up in the Native hut, but our Waikato men stick to us and have nothing to say to the Natives here.

Sunday, 20. – Heavy rain, which comes through our calico tent like mist, but does not wet us much. This morning the wind changed, and as the front of our tent is open, the wind beat in. Our men brought some ferns, and making a framework of long tea-tree sticks, soon had a wall put up which effectually kept out the wet.

Monday, 21. – Set out at 4. a. m., intending to breakfast on the way. The river has risen considerably since Saturday. Here the banks are almost destitute of trees, and slope down to the water. We passed a mill and several Europeans' houses, generally small, wretched-looking huts. The river is very broad – I should say 200 yards – and seems to be deep.

At 9 a. m. we arrived at the town and put up at the Portland Hotel, a most miserable little public-house, far inferior to the worst roadside inn I have seen in Port Phillip. We went to another house, but they were full, as the Petre races come off the day after to-morrow, and there are a good many people in from Wellington. After breakfast we crossed the

river and called on Mr Taylor, the English Church missionary, and gave him Mr Ashwell's letter. We had a good deal of talk with him about the country, and the part in particular which we had passed through. He informed me that we had passed near some very interesting caves, which we much regret not having seen. Our Natives probably knew nothing of them, being from a distant part of the country. He told us of a number of strange birds he had seen, and showed us drawings of some. He had the skin of a large night-parrot, which had a thick beard all round its beak; also a kiwi's skin. The kiwi is a bird which has no wings. It is very rare, and I am told £500 reward has been offered to anyone who will take a pair to England. We saw the skin of a small one on the Waipa. Mr Taylor also said he had discovered that there were frogs in the country. He has two very lady-like, interesting-looking grown-up daughters, a big boy, and a little girl – all of them, with his wife, very well brought up and nice-looking people; and his house and garden, with everything about them, seemed the picture of comfort and neatness. He had a long talk with our Waikato men, and asked them to go to Wellington with us. They said they would go for £3 each, but Mr Taylor said £2 was the very outside of what we ought to give, and begged us not to engage them for more. After dinner we returned to our inn, and having ordered tea, went out for a walk about the place. It is a wretched hole of a place – a constant bleak, cold wind blowing through one all the time. It is not larger than Port Fairy, but apparently of nothing like so much importance. The shops all seem of the poorest kind, having nothing but the barest necessaries in them. There is a King Bill here as in Port Fairy. He and his mate were com-

mon sailors, and purchased a small schooner and took timber to Sydney, from which beginning they have got on till now they have the principal store, a large quantity of land, and several vessels trading between this and Sydney. There is a garrison of 150 men here. They are quartered in block houses on the top of a hill overlooking the town and river, with a stockade round them. I am told that they have been of great service to the inhabitants of this place, particularly the Natives, in keeping off the Taupo tribes,, who formerly made frequent incursions, plundering and carrying off the people here. Since our arrival I have heard that there is war at Taupo just now. The tribes there being isolated from all the rest, are at feud with most of them, and I have no doubt but that this fact, and their being in a disturbed state at present, was the reason why our Waikato men were so very unwilling to go there.

Tuesday, 22. – I got up at 7 this morning very hungry, I suppose from having been in the habit of breakfasting so early for the last three weeks. I had a good sleep, and did not find the bed at all uncomfortable though I had not slept in one for so long. It is a cold, windy day, so I keep the house, there being nothing outside worth the seeing. Last night a man came into our little room and told us he was about to travel to Taupo and back to Wellington by the East Coast. He seems to be inspecting the country with the view of settling. He told us he had come out two years ago on account of his health, which was now completely restored, and that he liked the country so well that he intended going Home and returning to settle in it. He says that nearly all the best sheep runs have been taken up, and most of the settlers have bought

all the really good pieces of land in their runs, so as to make it not worth the while for any new-comer to buy them out. He told me he had made strict inquiries about Nelson, and that he understood there was no land to be had there, except small patches, nearer than 60 miles from the town. He said the Wairarapa Valley, to the east of Wellington, was considered the best part of the country for sheep, but is all bought up. There is a splendid piece of grass country between this and Taranaki, but it is in the hands of a very turbulent set of Natives, who, though they make no use of it, declare they will not sell it at any price. In fact, unless it be on the north-east coast – where I hear there is grass land not yet taken up – I fancy there is little or none worth having except at Canterbury. The land on the Waikato and Waipa is of first-rate quality, and being fern, would be easily, and at very little expense, converted into splendid grazing land for either sheep or cattle; but then the climate there is as warm as Port Phillip, its only superiority consisting in its being free from hot winds. This evening the gentlemen came in from Wellington. I found they had come from Canterbury and Nelson. Had a long conversation regarding the eligibility of both places as sheep countries, and they say that the former is nearly all taken up, and that the latter is but a place to live in, where small portions of land only are to be had. They both agreed that Nelson was a delightful place, and said that they would advise anyone to have a place there as residence for family, &c, and to take up a run somewhere in the Ahuriri or Wairarapa. The latter place is all in occupation, but in the former there are still many good runs unoccupied. About 10 o'clock I was talking about earthquakes, and remarking that I had never felt a shock, though I had

been in places where they had occurred. Just as I spoke we felt the house begin to tremble, so slightly at first that I thought it was some one shaking the table; but in a few seconds the people present exclaimed, "There is an earthquake!" and the room began to oscillate with a motion not unlike that of a steamboat, and lasted nearly a minute. The people said it was a very long but exceedingly mild shock.

Wednesday, 23. – The Petre races came off to-day, and we find it impossible to get any Natives to go on with us till they are over. It is very provoking, as we are anxious to get on, and there is nothing here worth the detention. I should like very much to visit the Ahuriri, Hawkes Bay, but must see Nelson first, if possible, as there I expect letters. If I do not find what I want there or at Canterbury, I shall, I think, take a trip to the North-East, but all depends on what I see and hear of these places. To-day there is a strong wind with light showers – a very raw, unpleasant day; in fact, the climate here seems anything but agreeable. They have great difficulty in getting gardens to grow, and have to make screens to shelter the shrubs from the wind till they grow up. Having nothing better to do, I went to the race-course, but such an attempt at races I never before witnessed. We, however, made the acquaintance of three or four gentlemen at the course, from whom we got a good deal of information. To-day we engaged a Wellington Maori and a white man to carry our things, and intend to set out to-morrow morning.

Thursday, 24. – This morning had an early breakfast, and on asking the waiter if our European had come, were informed that there was a man below,

but that he (the waiter) did not know whether he was our man or not. We told him to go and ask. He came back and said the man was quite willing to go with us, but had no recollection of having engaged. He, however, admitted that he might have done so, as he was very drunk all the preceding day. On going to look at him I saw at once he was not our man, but as he was a strong, broad-shouldered fellow, we took him and set out. About 11 a. m. we arrived at Captain Campbell's house. 18 We had been introduced to the captain the day before, and he asked us to call and see him in passing. His house was situated on a rising ground surrounded by fields of grain, with some forest (or bush, as it is called here) behind. The whole was enclosed by two lakes in such a way that 220 yards of fencing, by joining the ends of the lakes, enclosed a space of some hundred acres. We crossed one of the lakes in a little canoe only large enough to carry two at a time. At 2 o'clock we crossed the Wangaehu, having passed a number of low, rolling, fern-clad hills, and flax and toi-toi flats. The whole country hereabouts is fit for agricultural purposes. Captain Campbell spoke highly of it, and told me that it was nearly all bought up. He mentioned one farm, or piece of ground suitable for one, with some timber on it, and which was not bought. The land here seems to be valued if there is bush on it. The want of bush is for many reasons a great drawback. At 3 o'clock we arrived at Turakina and crossed knee-deep to a Mr Wilson's place in charge of Mr McGregor, where was a large, comfortable house, better than most bush houses in Australia; but there is a look about all the houses here which gives the impression of poverty and a lower stamp than in Australia, even

though the structures be much more substantial. They were shearing here. They have about 1500 sheep of the fine wool breed, and they say they average 4 lbs each. Mr McGregor knew Henry. After we had dined young Wilson took us out to see his crops, which looked very well. He also showed us his garden on the bank of a lagoon, the steep bank cut so as to form a wall half way up, with vines, roses, &c, twined up it. It was all quite new, but I have no doubt but that in a short time it will be a very pretty place. In the evening, at tea, the shearers sat down with us.

Friday, 25. – Up at 5 this morning. They gave us but one bed to sleep in, but as we had our blankets we made a bed on the floor, on which John slept. Young Wilson went with us, mounted on a mule, for the first five or six miles of our way down the river to the sea-side. We passed a good deal of flax and toi-toi land, some bush, and some fern hills till we came to a Mr Beamish's. Called there, and found that Mr Beamish at Warrnambool is a cousin of this one. Here Mr Wilson left us. He was exceedingly kind and attentive, and pressed us to come and see him should we return that way. His father is a builder in Wellington – formerly, I am told, a common carpenter. We found the beach much heavier walking than we had anticipated. From the mouth of the river a very monotonous and uninteresting walk of 17 miles brought us to Mr Scott's public-house, 19 where we had dinner and a comfortable night's rest in clean beds.

Saturday, 26. – Two gentlemen from Wellington, who had been to the Wanganui races, came in last

night after us. They have horses to ride back, so will leave us behind. We set out at half-past 7 a. m. – a fine, cool day. At 12 we got to the Manawatu, where we rested for an hour and a half, and had some tea and bread and butter from the Maori ferryman, for which he charged a shilling each. There was a heavy swell on the river, and in crossing over our canoe was nearly filled, but we are used to getting wet, and did not mind it much. A good deal of rain fell while we were at the ferryman's house. About 6 p. m. we arrived at Ohau, both very tired. We find walking through the sand much more laborious than going through the bush. The constant strain on certain muscles makes it more fatiguing than the ups and downs of the inland paths. Our days' march was 30 miles, which we did in nine hours, not including the hour and a half halt at Manawatu. There is a small craft lying here, the property of the landlord, who is by trade a rope maker. I had some conversation with him about the flax and rope-making here. He said the reason why New Zealand rope had lately got a bad name was because the high prices had induced many Europeans, and even some Natives, though quite ignorant of the trade, to undertake the manufacture of rope for wool lashings, and the consequence was that a large quantity of inferior stuff was made and bought up by people in Wellington for exportation, often without even being seen. This, of course, has brought the article into bad repute. He said that properly got up, the New Zealand flax was inferior to none in the world. He expected a patent machine from England, after the arrival of which he said none of them could compete with him, as the patent rope could easily be distinguished from their manufacture.

Sunday, 27. – Fine, bright day, with cool breeze from N. W.; halted here to-day.

Monday, 28. – While waiting for breakfast went out to see the rope-makers at work. They put three threads in a strand, and three strands in a rope. After the flax is cleaned it does not take more than two hours to make a rope. The flax is scraped and brought down here by Natives. Formerly they used shells to scrape it, but now they use iron hoops. The shells do the work better, but the hoops more expeditiously. I am told that the wool dumpers in Wellington are taking to iron hoops instead of flax lashings, and when hoops are not to be had they use strands of manilla rope.

Our road to-day still lay along the beach. At 3 p. m. we halted for dinner at a place where some police had formerly been stationed. At sunset we got to the end of our day's journey – Paikakariki – a very pretty place, where the hills come quite down to the beach, and the road strikes up the hills and into the country. The man who keeps the inn here asked me what we would like, and on our telling him to give us the best he had, he brought us some of the universal unclean beast.

Tuesday, 29. – Started from Paikakariki at half-past 9 a. m. At 1 p. m. we dined, and after walking five miles more put up for the night. The outside of the resting house did not promise well, but we found a very nice room and bedroom, and everything they gave us was clean and good, whereas at the other places the bread was bad, the butter rancid, the potatoes shooting, and the pork often stinking. The country here is very pretty, the wooded hills slope down to the Porirua, an arm of

the sea forming many pretty bays. There are many houses and huts, and there is a good deal of clearing about, which, though it detracts from the beauty of the scene, is a pleasing proof of the increasing prosperity of the country. From the place where we slept last night there is a good road, cut in many places out of the mountain. The first four miles led by a gradual ascent to the top of the coast range, where we had a splendid view. The island of Kapiti, 9 miles off; in the distance, to our left, the hills and mountains of the Middle Island; behind and on each side beautifully wooded hills, and far below us the sea, blue and calm. Altogether it was as pretty a scene as we had witnessed since leaving Auckland. We passed a place where our man informed us a battle had been fought with the Natives, and where the European dead were buried. 20 Excepting the road, it was then and still is a dense forest and scrub, and it is not to be wondered at that in such a place the poor soldiers should have been easily shot down and kept back by the savages.

Wednesday, 30. – Sixteen miles to Wellington. We started at half-past 4 this morning and breakfasted 10 miles further on, arriving in Wellington at 11 a. m. We took a short cut straight over the hills which bound the harbour, and had a good view of the place from their top. The town here seems to consist of a row of houses along the beach in the form of a curve, a high bank behind them, with a flat along it, on which there are a great many scattered buildings. Behind these the hills rise up, steep and wooded. The harbour is very pretty – quite land-locked – and looks like a Highland loch. There is a good road all along the beach, which I am

told extends 40 miles in the direction of the Hutt and Wairarapa. We put up at Barrett's Hotel, opposite a wharf which is built on the hull of an old vessel, and goes by the name of Noah's Ark.

We have been 31 days on the way, out of which we halted about nine days – that is, four Sundays, one day at Mr Ashwell's, and three and a half days at Wanganui, leaving 22 days as the time in which we accomplished our journey. The people in Auckland said we should be six weeks and had we not paid highly to induce the Natives to come with us at once, I do think we should have taken at least that time. Mr Taylor, the missionary at Wanganui, told us that one great reason why we found the Natives so obedient and tractable was our respecting the Lord's Day; and not mixing with them in any way, but keeping to our tent and feeding by ourselves caused them to respect us, and understand that we were not of the class who usually travelled amongst them, viz., pork salters.

Wellington. – We both feel tired and foot-sore after our journey for the last two days over the hard, stony roads. On arrival we lay down and slept for an hour or two. We had but little sleep last night, for our landlady, taking advantage of her husband's absence, got drunk and created a disturbance with some people in the house, by which we were kept awake for some hours after we had gone to bed.

Thursday, December 1, 1853. – Got up at half-past 8 this morning, feeling more tired and stiff than we had done since leaving Auckland, so we determined to remain in the house to-day and rest. There is no ship here bound for the south. The little brig from Auckland has not arrived, so we must wait patiently

for the present. A great deal of the wool from the opposite coast is sent over here instead of to Nelson, so I may be able to get across. I have some thoughts of getting a horse and going to look at the Ahuriri country, but must look about and hear more about it first.

There is a cold, bleak wind blowing from the N. E. to-day. A great many people have coughs, colds, and influenza. I have seen several cases of consumption amongst the Natives. The disease is said to be caused by their wrapping themselves up in blankets and throwing them off when very warm; also sitting in a close house with a fire till they pour with perspiration, and in this state going out into the cold.

After dinner, being tired of remaining in the house, we took a walk round the town. It is a very scattered sort of place. Besides the row of houses along the beach, there are many on the high grounds behind, as also on a small flat at the head of the bay.

This evening had some conversation with two men who came in about the Ahuriri. They advised me to buy a mare, saying I could sell her there for double what she cost, and walk back. They spoke in high terms of the country, and advised me to go and see it.

Friday, 2. – A strong gale from the N. E., with rain – altogether a miserable day. We called at the Land Commissioner's office, but did not see the Commissioner. He was at Wanganui. The clerk gave us a copy of the land regulations, and asked us to call again when Mr Bell returned. He knew nothing about the Wairau and Nelson districts. Wind and rain continued all day.

Saturday, 3. – Wind as yesterday, but not so strong. A good deal of rain fell during the night. John went to call on a person to whom Henry gave him a letter.

This is a very dull place. The people seem idle and lazy, quite different from Auckland, where all was bustle and activity. Here the shops are never opened till a late hour in the morning, and closed soon at night. I find that this house is very little frequented. There is not much chance of my making many acquaintances here, and I do not know who to go and see, having no introductions to anyone. Horses and cattle are very high. Sheep, I hear, are £2 a-head, and nothing decent in the horse line to be had under £50. All this is owing to the discovery and occupation of the Ahuriri country, and the Natives all over the country buying horses. They often save up every shilling till they have enough to buy a horse. They are very fond of them, but ride hard. I am told that the Natives' numbers are rapidly decreasing here. The sun is shining again, and the weather seems about to clear up.

Sunday, 4. – A beautiful day. Bright sunshine, with pleasant, cool breeze all day. Kept the house till after dinner, when I took a walk outside the town; unable to go to church for want of clothes.

Monday, 5. – Dark misty day. Wind south, and very cold. To-day, after dinner, talking to the landlord about different religious sects here. He told me most of the influential people about Wellington were Roman Catholics. He also said that their places of instruction for the young people far excel the other denominations. They teach music, &c, so that many people send their children to their

schools. The consequence is that a great proportion of the rising generation of this place are being educated as Roman Catholics, and he thinks in a few years this will be quite a Roman Catholic town.

A schooner, the "Wellington," is in from Port Cooper.

John went to dine with Mr May, Henry's friend.

Tuesday, 6. – Fine day. Trying to get a passage across the Straits, but did not succeed.

1 Waitemata.

2 Near present township of Papakura.

3 Near township of Drury.

4 This would be where the Queen's Redoubt was built in 1863.

5 This would be at the site of the township of Mercer.

6 Named Kaitotehe.

7 It is so still.

8 Whatawhata.

9 "Sir G. Grey's Journey to Taupo," written by G. S. Cooper.

10 This is just above the present town of Alexandra.

11 Pirongia. said by the Maoris to be the former home of the Patupaeatehe, or Fairies.

12 This stream is the boundary between the confiscated territories and the King Country.

13 Probably M. Louis Hellet.

14 Called Te Kopua (Rev. Mr Reid's station).

15 Probably Pahoka.

16 The English name of Wanganui.

17 Raupo.

18 At Whiritoa.

19 At Rangitikei.

20 Pahautanui.

[DIARY South Island and back to Wellington]

Wednesday, 7. – A lovely day, with light breeze and bright sun. In the evening I took my passage in a little fore-and-after to Flaxburn on the Middle Island.

Thursday, 8. – Up at 6 a. m. The signal for the little craft's departure flying; had breakfast and went on board. Found the captain had not come off. The vessel is only 15 tons – not so big as many of the open boats that trade on the West Coast of India. The wind is fair, and it looks as if it were coming stronger, so I hope to be across the Straits before dark. Did not get off till 12 noon. One half the deck was under water nearly the whole way across. Landed at 6 p. m. and walked up to Mr Clifford's station, where I put up for the night. A Mr Shepherd came over with me.

Friday, 9. – The house is half a mile from the landing-place. The country is hilly and not a tree to be seen, but plenty of grass, though much of it is of a coarse tufty kind which no cattle will eat excepting just after it has been burnt. The rocks are limestone. The house is in a little valley off a large one, in which is a small stream. There has been

no rain here for a long time, and the country looks parched up. They are going to drive 6000 sheep to Canterbury. They have a great deal of scab here. The wool is fine, averaging 3 lb. per sheep. The land here seems very poor; there is almost nothing in the garden, though it has existed for four or five years, and seems well kept; and some grain I saw looked miserable. The place seems fit for nothing but a sheep run. I walked up to the wool-shed, which is a mile from the house. There Mr Shepherd got a mare to ride, and took my blankets on the saddle. The valley takes a bend, and again comes on the sea, so as to be open at both ends, and the gales of wind which prevail in the Straits blow up and down with as much force as outside. Further up the soil seems better. Half a mile from the shed we came to a lagoon, leaving which we proceeded on to the Great Salt Lagoon. The country is the same. There is a good coat of short grass, with the tuft or tussock grass here, but not so much as lower down. This lagoon is separated from the sea by a narrow bank, which sometimes bursts. There were great numbers of the paradise duck here; the female has a white head. They all seem to go in pairs, and are very tame. We skirted the Great Salt Lagoon for some miles, and then turned inland and crossed the blind river, which is a succession of deep water-holes, like an Australian river.

Three miles further up we came to some steep ravines on Mr Newcome's station, where we put up for the night. This station is on the Awatere or Kaiparitihau River. I saw in the house a map of the valley, by which it appears that all the land worth having, chiefly near the lower extremity, is sold.

Saturday, 10. – Had a good sleep on a mattress on the floor. The house is very comfortable; the walls are made of mud, and the roof of grass. There is no firewood to be had here, except what they get out of the bed of the river. Mr Shepherd was to get a horse here, but he could not be found, so we had to go and hunt for him. After wandering unsuccessfully for a long way over the hills we had to give up the search, so returned and sent a boy who knew the horse's haunts. We got off at 12 noon, and crossed the river once to a place where Mr Taylor is shearing his sheep. There being no dray-road to his station, he has to drive his sheep down here and live in tents while the shearing goes on. Here I bought a mare from a man called Jack Matthews. We crossed the hills by Maxwell's Pass down into a broad valley, which led us into the Wairau Plain. We put up for the night at a station in charge of a Scotchman named Maxwell, the discoverer of the pass.

Sunday, 11. – Obliged to go on to-day, as Mr Shepherd is going, and I cannot stop here. We rode on for about 20 miles to Mr Shepherd's house on the Waiopai.

We first went to the Beaver Station, the place from which the wool from the Wairau Station is embarked. It is here put into whaleboats and taken down to the mouth of the river to the Boulder Bank, and thence sent either to Nelson or Wellington in small coasting schooners. The plain of the Wairau is about twelve miles wide, and the river runs along the west side. The soil seems pretty good in some parts, but much of it is wet or stony, and unfit for cultivation. I only saw one spot cultivated, and the crop there looked miserable. There is only one patch

of forest. It is situated near the Beaver Station, and the owners charge £1 per tree. The timber is white pine, which is the worst in the island.

Mr Shepherd's house is on the river Waiopai. It is a neat little mud cottage, nicely plastered inside. He has a tiny bit of garden in front, but it looks very much parched, as does the whole of this country. They have had no rain here for two months. The runs here are all on the east side of the valley. The opposite side is so very mountainous as to be unfit for anything. Even the timber on it cannot be got at. Many of the settlers far back have to drive their sheep down to the low country to shear, there being no roads to their stations. They are sending a great many sheep and cattle to Canterbury. One man I met had contrived to drive 4000 sheep at 2s a-head. Another was taking his flock to a station he had taken up in the South of Canterbury, and expected to be four months on the road.

Monday, 12. – Halted here to-day in consequence of the rain, which had been threatening all yesterday. It fell in considerable quantities through last night as well as to-day.

Tuesday, 13. – Saddled my mare and gave her to Mr Shepherd to hold. She got away and buck-jumped fearfully. After much trouble I caught her, mounted, and rode off, but when I had got about a quarter of a mile away she began to buck again, and all I could do I could not get her to move from the place, so I returned to Mr Shepherd, who advised me to take her back, riding the horse he had brought up. I did so, and got to the place about sunset. The man had warranted her quiet, and particularly not to buck-jump, so I had some hope of being able

to induce him to take her back. When I got there he swore he had never said she did not buck, only he had never seen her buck, and he refused to take her back. I threatened to bring an action against him, and said I would leave the mare. Mr Taylor said he thought he would come round when he had thought over it and had a talk with his mates, so I had some dinner and went to sleep in Mr Taylor's tent.

Wednesday, 14. – This morning, as I was preparing to start, Dick came and said that by Mr Taylor's advice he was willing to take £5 to be off the bargain. I handed the mare over to him, with the saddle, &c, and he went to get the money, but after all he changed his mind; and after keeping me waiting for a long time said he would not give the money, that he did not care if I did pull him for it, that I could not get blood out of a stone, &c. After this I set out back to Mr Shepherd's. Mr Taylor had gone on. I overtook him in the pass, and we went on to tlie dairy station ten miles from Shepherd's, where we slept.

Thursday, 15. – Went on to Mr Shepherd's, and from thence to Mr Courtenay's. He is a magistrate, lives at Nelson, and has a station here which he visits now and then. The country here looks well. It is a fine place for sheep – something like some parts of the Highlands at Home, but more grass. Mr Courtenay's house is the most dirty, slovenly-looking place I have seen. When we went in we found the breakfast things dirty on the table of the room, which serves as kitchen and dining-room. In one doorway leading to another room hung a bloody sheep's head, and in another part the carcase of the same animal.

I have to remain here all night, as Mr Courtenay

was out when I came, and it is now too late to go back. I was told here that there is only one piece of land on the plain for sale. I passed over it to-day. The greatest part of it is so very stony as to be quite unfit for anything but grazing, and it is but a few hundred acres altogether. I slept on the floor on sheepskins, woolpacks, &c, along with three others.

Friday, 16. – Up at daylight and off to Mr Shepherd's, where we breakfasted. Mr Courtenay could do nothing for me towards the recovery of my money, he not having authority to act in cases involving more than £20. After breakfast we set out down the valley again, as yesterday I left my watch behind at the dairy, and I was anxious for its safety. I pushed on, and thankful I felt when I saw it once more.

Mr Courtenay advised me to take the mare to Nelson, sell her by auction, and sue Dick for the balance. I hope when he hears what I intend to do, he may think better of it and return my money. I have determined to return to Awatere with Mr Taylor. We slept at Maxwell's, as it came on to rain.

Saturday, 17. – Crossed the pass. I caught my mare and tried to lead her, but she would not go at all – in fact, she is not broken in, and I have been regularly taken in with her. Jack knew perfectly well what she was, and lied when he said she was quiet. I fear I cannot get redress; being such a distance from Nelson, it would be impossible to get the witnesses necessary. After talking over the business with Mr Taylor and Mr Pyke – who is Taylor's mate – they offered to give me a little horse and £5 for the mare, just to get me on, which offer

I thankfully accepted, and remained with them for the night.

Sunday, 18. – To-day I walked up to the dairy. I think it much better to go on on the Sabbath than to remain in company with the shearers, who seem the most depraved set I ever came across. The man who keeps this dairy is a very respectable Scotchman called Brydon, from Edinburgh. He has a very large family of very small, fat children, and seems to be doing very well.

Mr Pyke has been overland to Otago, looking for a run. He spoke in terms of high praise of the country between Christchurch and Otago; says it is a very fine place for sheep, but better for cattle on account of the wet and snow, and the difficulty of getting wool away.

Monday, 19. – I started about 6 o'clock up the Wairau Valley. After about 20 miles it gets very narrow, and appears to have been at one time the bed of the river. The soil is very poor and stony. The hills on the north side are wooded, and very much broken and rugged. From this point Nelson is only 85 miles distant as the crow flies, but 120 as I have to go. I overtook a man on the road going to Nelson, named Gibson. He is a shepherd, and has charge of Mr Green's run, and appears a very decent old man. He told me he intended going as far as the "top house," a place on the other side of the big river; and as I had heard much of the danger of crossing the river, and being ignorant of the proper place, I determined to go along with him. We halted at Mr Dupper's station and had dinner, and then proceeded to the branch river, which we crossed easily. Just as we got to the big river a

tremendous storm of wind and sleet came down the valley, and by the time we got over the river the weather looked so threatening that we determined to halt there and pass the night in a deserted hut, called the Manuka Island hut. The river is very rapid, the bottom consisting of large round stones, which roll down when the river is flooded. It must be a most dangerous place at those times. To-day it is rather low, so we got over without much difficulty. We soon had a large fire in the hut, and Mr Gibson produced some tea, bread, and meat, on which having supped, we turned in, as we intended being off at dawn next morning. Here I saw for the first time a wood-hen. It is a very stupid sort of bird, with very small wings, and is about the size of a pheasant. It came quite close to the door of the hut, and did not seem to fear us in the least. The Natives catch them by tying some red feathers to the end of a long pole, and making them dance up and down. The wood-hen, seeing this, comes to fight it, and the Native slips a flax noose over its head.

This island is covered with very large manuka trees. The manuka is like the Australian tea-tree. One sort is very like the "broom scrub," and has a very sweet-scented flower, which covers it so completely as to hide the leaves. The trees on this place are used for fence rails and rafters.

Tuesday, 20. – Off at daylight. During the night I had a pain in my knee. I found relief when I stretched the leg, but then my feet got so cold that at last I got up and lit the fire. This morning there is a dry frost, and the hills close above us are covered with snow. Our poor horses fared badly, as a flock of sheep have lately been detained here for some

days by the river, and the grass has been all eaten up. Four miles further on we came to a black birch forest, through which we passed. It extends ten miles, and as the path is very wet, we had to walk nearly the whole way. Some of the trees which stood directly in the way have lately been cut. There are a great many steep gullies to traverse, where the path is very slippery. About one o'clock we got out of the forest, having been nearly four hours in passing through. Here we halted at a house to have something to eat – bread and cheese, for which they charged 1s 6d. The country here resembles some parts of the North Island, being fern-clad hills. On the way we crossed several streams, generally following them either up or down, and then crossing over the hills and so down on another stream. At sunset we entered another forest, where I perceived the road had been laid out with ditches on either side of it, and about four miles further we came to a house where we put up for the night. The owner, "Gork" Rodger, a Yorkshireman, had been to the village, and was drunk, but his wife made us as comfortable as she could. We had good beds in a detached house.

Wednesday, 21. – Up at daylight. Our host and family still asleep, so I called out to know what I had to pay, and the wife replied, "Half-a-crown," which sum I deposited on the table and departed. On leaving this place the roadsides began to show signs of cultivation. A good many small cottages, fences, patches of grain, &c, appeared from time to time, and increased in number as we advanced until we got into the Wakefield Valley, where there are large farms. The valley widens out into a considerable plain, something like Wairau, but the signs

of industry which appear on all sides make a wonderful difference in the scene. I halted at Richmond for breakfast, and then proceeded into Nelson, where I arrived at 12 o'clock. The road all the way is lined with fields and houses, and the whole country seems to be in a most flourishing state. After dinner I went to the post office, but was disappointed at finding no letters, as I fully expected to get some here. This has been a very hot day. They have had no rain for a long time, and the vegetation looks parched up.

Thursday, 22. – Up at 7 o'clock. A hot sultry morning. There are myriads of flies of all kinds about the house – more even than I recollect to have seen in Australia. About 9 o'clock the sea breeze set in. I called on Mr Sclanders after breakfast. He has no letters. I asked him about the Happy Valley. He said it was a very out-of-the-way place – no road to it, and the farm Henry mentioned would never do for Aunt Flora, as there was only a small hut on it. He showed me a plan of Henry's place, and told me the former owner wished to sell some more land adjoining it, which would render the property more compact and valuable. I intend to go up to look at it after dinner. The only land for sale in this part is in very small quantities, and in private hands, at high prices.

After dinner I walked up to Henry's place and saw the former owner. He pointed out the boundaries, and also the additional piece he wants to sell. It is almost all hill land – the only level piece being just at the top of the little valley. The whole of Henry's place is one tangled mass of weeds, docks (4ft. high) as thick as they can stand, and all going to seed, and the flowers and fruit trees – of which

there is abundance – quite choked up. The house, which is of boards, is not larger than the men's hut at Konawarran, and the shingle roof so much out of repair that it leaks at a hundred places. Notwithstanding all this, it is a nice little place, and with a little care and outlay might be made a very lovely spot. The valley in which it is situated was formerly the favourite part of the town, but it has been nearly deserted in consequence of the encroachments of the stream which runs through it. Henry's place being situated in a small valley which runs up at right angles to the main one, is not liable to be injured by the stream.

Friday, 23. – A vessel came in from Wellington this morning, so I hope to get letters. After breakfast went to the post office, but my letter had been sent to Sclanders. I went there and got it. The sight of the address disappointed me, but on opening it I had the pleasure of seeing Rachel's handwriting. The letter had been enclosed to Sclander's care by Mr Davie. I have now been three months away, so I think there must be more letters on their way. How much I wish I could get them, but moving about as I am, I fear I have not much chance. I called at the Land Commissioner's office. The people there seem to make it a rule to give as little information to strangers as they possibly can. In the evening I walked up the Brook street road to the coal mines. They are a mile or two beyond Henry's place. There is a good road all the way. The coal seems pretty good. It is light, but improves as they get further into the hill. The working has been stopped for some time, but is about to be commenced again.

Saturday, 24. – Sclanders took me to the Land Office and introduced me to the Commissioner, Major Richmond. He told me that in fact there was no land of any extent in the Nelson District in the Government's hands. He said that the land held by squatters could not be put up at 5s an acre unless at the squatter's request, and almost none of it is worth more, if so much as 5s. He said it was not the wish of the Government that any land profitably occupied should change hands, and that this rule had been framed as a protection to squatters whose runs are already stocked. (All the Wairau runs are already stocked.) After dinner I walked with Mr Huddlestone up the Maitai Valley. It is a very pretty place. Mr Huddlestone has bought a place with a house near the lower part of the valley. It is a pretty large, comfortable-looking house, having four good-sized rooms, a kitchen with range, &c, and two acres of land laid out as a garden, full of fruit trees, fine and large. Altogether it is a pretty place for £500. He has let it for a year, intending to go to Europe for his family. Through the valley runs the stream from which it takes its name – the Maitai – winding from side to side of the level part. The gentleman to whom Mr Huddlestone has let his house owns the greater part of the valley, and has had a pretty walk made up one side, with the clear stream on the one hand and the high hills on the other. It is a delightful place to walk in the afternoon when the sun is shaded by the hills. When returning we met Dr Richardson, who rents the house. He asked us in and introduced us to his wife. The inside of the house pleased me more than the outside. It is nicely furnished, and altogether seems a most desirable residence. The Wairau run-holders have lately purchased most of the flat land

near their runs so as to secure them – the hills without the flat being useless – and some of them have had to sell their little places near Nelson to enable them to do this. There has been a town – Waitohi – laid out at Queen Charlotte's Sound, the sections of which are rapidly being bought up. It is intended to make a dray-road thence to the Wairau River, which will he crossed by a punt. When this is done I think Waitohi will cut out Nelson, as it will then become the Wairau Port, and the country round must soon become a large agricultural as well as pastoral district. The country round Waitohi, and all about the Sound, is thickly wooded, but there are many beautiful little bays, some with considerable quantities of good flat land, and good water communication in every direction.

Sunday, 25 (Christmas Day). – Heavy rain and strong wind all day, so I kept my room and saw no one except at meal times.

Monday, 26. – A lovely day after the night's rain. I walked up the hill to the right of the town, from whence I had a fine view of the whole place. All the shops are shut to-day, it being kept as a holiday instead of yesterday.

Tuesday, 27. – Very hot again. I feel the climate here make me lazy and unwilling for exertion or work of any kind. I think I must be off. I have seen and learnt all I can about the place, and I had better be moving about than sticking here doing nothing. The brig Gazelle from Sydney came in with stock – horses, cattle, and 600 sheep. I went to see the sheep landed. They seem healthy and strong. They expect 35s a-head for them.

To-day there is a grand meeting of all the people of the country. All the children of the different schools meet and have tea together, after which they play at all sorts of games. I went to see them. The grown up people and young men and women were playing at kiss-in-the-ring. I was amused to see how some of the girls took the being kissed quite coolly, others resisting and struggling as long as they could.

Thursday, 29. – I have determined to leave Nelson to-day. A man of the name of Collier is going with me to Port Cooper (Lyttelton). He does not know more of the country than I do, and is not at all a man I should make a friend or assistant of, but still it is better to have such an one than to travel through an uninhabited country by oneself. Another man, a surveyor, who wished to go with me as far Wairau, being unable to get his horse shod, detained us till the evening. At last we set out without him, and rode as far as "Gork" Rodger's, where we arrived at 10 o'clock and put up for the night.

I have been very much pleased with Nelson altogether. The people I met there seemed much more inclined to show me kindness and hospitality than elsewhere. The town is a nice little place, as is also the country round; but I do not think it ever can be more unless its coal and copper mines bring it forward. At present I should say it was a most excellent place for a person to reside in who wished to be quiet and live cheaply, &c, on his means; but except shop-keeping, I see no means of anyone not a tradesman obtaining a livelihood. Most of the people who have farms in the Waimea (the valley at the back of the town), have also runs in Wairau or elsewhere. I have been repeatedly told that farm-

ing, unless the farmer does all the work himself, does not pay well, in consequence of the very high rate of wages necessary to be given to secure the services of labourers.

I hope to be back to Nelson or to Wellington in three weeks or a month if nothing detains me. It is my intention to sell my horse when I get to Canterbury, and go by sea from Port Cooper either back to Nelson or to Wellington, as I may find opportunity.

Friday, 30. – I got up early, but could not induce my companion to rise. He detained me till 10 o'clock, when we got off and rode to Davie Kerr's, the furthest up house on this side of the bush. I found no difficulty in tracing my way back through these hills, and should have got on pretty fast, but Mr Collier complained much of the effects of riding. I find he is not at all used to travelling, and is but a poor hand at roughing it.

Saturday, 31. – The house was full of people last night, so I had to sleep on the floor, not liking the plan of going halves in a bed, which I find to be thought nothing of here. I got up at 4 a. m. and called the others. We soon got breakfast, and at 6 o'clock got away and rode to Mr Duppa's station, further than which Mr Collier said he could not go. We took four hours to get through the bush. On the Wairau side we halted at the "top house." It is situated on a very pretty spot near a birch forest, with the river below, some way off. It was an inn, but has been deserted on account of the distance from the only place where supplies are to be had. Here we remained for two hours to let our horses feed, and then went on to Mr Duppa's.

Sunday, January 1, 1854. – I slept in the store on some wool packs, with a bloody, disgusting-looking old ram's head hanging above me. This is the country to learn to rough it in, and no mistake. A little rain fell this morning, but it soon passed off, and it is now a fine day. The man here was hurt the other day by a dray wheel passing over his leg. He had got between the bullocks to take out the pole pins (a common practice here) when they made a rush forward and knocked him down. He is in great pain, but I think he will recover. I saw a man at the last station who had lost his way and had been ten days in the bush, during which time he subsisted on three robins. He was not much more than a mile from the house the whole time. He must have been a stupid fellow not to have got more robins, for they are so tame that one can knock any number down with a stick.

Towards evening, being unable longer to endure this disgusting hole of a place, and the society of the men (two of whom had been gentlemen), we got our nags and rode over to Mr Sweet's place, where we were kindly welcomed by Mrs Sweet and her husband. She is almost the only lady in the Wairau! They seemed glad to see any one. I fancy it must be a dull life for those who live in the country here. The lady did not seem to mind it. She said she had so much to do with her children and one thing and another that she never wished to go away anywhere.

Monday, 2. – This morning I was again detained by Mr Collier, who changed his mare for a horse of Mr Sweet's. He seemed much pleased with his bargain, and we got on much better. On the way we stopped at a house of entertainment (shanty!), where I found I had lost my purse. There was not much

in it, but I was very sorry to lose it, as it had been given to me by Flora when leaving Port Fairy. It was little use going to look for it, but I did go until I came to a place where we had passed through long grass, when I gave it up and returned. We then went on to Brydon's dairy station, where we put up for the night.

Tuesday, 3. – This morning my companion's horse was found to have taken himself off during the night. He had no tether-rope; though I had told Mr Collier to get one in Nelson, he neglected to do so, and tied his horse with a rotten rope, which he broke. We lost the whole day looking for him. In the evening, when we had come to the conclusion that he had gone home, old Gibson came to the dairy and offered to go and fetch him for £1. This I thought reasonable, and advised Mr Collier to agree to give it, but he would not do so; and I made up my mind to leave him. He has kept me back and been of more annoyance than use to me hitherto, and as he refuses to pay for having his horse brought back, I think myself quite justified in leaving him. I shall go and see the mouth of the Wairau, and perhaps Queen Charlotte's Sound, after which I shall shape my course for Canterbury.

Wednesday, 4. – I got up at 4 o'clock, and leaving Mr Collier asleep, I proceeded towards the Beaver Station. When I had got about half the way I found I was on the wrong side of a creek, so had to retrace my steps for some miles, and I did not arrive till 6 o'clock. I had breakfast and set out for the mouth of the river. It is called the Boulder Bank, and is at present the shipping port of the Wairau and Awatere. I was told there was only one track.

I followed the only one I could see, and again lost some time, having left the proper path and followed one which led between two raupo swamps, back nearly as far as the place I started from. When I found I could get no farther in that direction I returned, and seeing a sail above the bushes made towards it, and was directed into the proper track by the boatmen, who were returning to the Beaver from the port. I arrived at the port at 2 o'clock, and leaving my horse, crossed the river to the public-house. It has been a very hot day, and I have a bad headache.

I do not think much of this part of the country will ever be cultivated. I found the men at the port all drunk. One man I met here told me he had been a surveyor here, and that there were not many acres of level land that would produce much, most of the ground being so stony and swampy as to be unfit for cultivation. He also told me that it would take me five days' hard work to reach the Sound, and that I should have to carry provisions, &c, as there are no people there just now. This I do not fancy in the present very hot weather, so I shall start for Port Cooper to-morrow.

Thursday, 5. – I set out at half-past 8 and rode to Moit's station on the Awatere, a distance of 30 miles. The day was very hot, and the road so bad that I had to walk the greater part of the way. After rounding the Bluff – a high point, impassable at high water – I followed the course of the Awatere, passing the place where Mr Taylor's sheep were shorn, and where I made the unlucky purchase of my mare. I dined at a station belonging to a Mackay, a Ross-shire man, who has now several stations, and who began as a shepherd owning 46 sheep.

Friday, 6. – To-day I have to enter the Fairfield Downs – here called the "fearful downs." I am told that I pass to-day through the most difficult country on the road to the Awatere, and it promises to be a very hot day. There is a cool breeze now – 5 a. m. – but I fear much it will be hot enough before long.

A few miles from the house I crossed the Awatere, and proceeded up a ridge on to a high range of hills, which I kept till about 2 o'clock, continually ascending and descending, when I again came down on the river, and halted at a shepherd's hut, where I had some tea and bread. I then went on some miles further to another hut, where I passed the night. The whole of this country is well grassed, but looks as if the hills were purposely made so as not to leave one spot of level ground. I had to walk the whole way. Often my horse had to slide down the hills for many yards at a time. The last part of the way there was no track.

Saturday, 7. – I started at 8 o'clock on a good track, but soon lost it at a place where it crosses the river. I kept on the same side for some time, till I could proceed no further. I then crossed and passed over places where I do think a goat would find difficulty in walking. I tried to re-cross the stream several times, and in about two hours after I set out I was overtaken by a man from the hut who told me I had left the road, and advised me to go on with him to another hut further up, which I did. I was there informed that the road went towards a mountain on the left bank, but that I had kept the proper direction, and might get on to the road again by following up the river. This I did. Here the river runs between high hills, which jut out in rocky

points, obliging me to cross and re-cross the stream many times. At last I got out into a plain, and came upon some sheep tracks, which I followed till 6 o'clock, when, my horse being very tired, I camped at a small stream and had some tea; and having made a sort of roof with grass to keep off the dew, I turned in for the night, and slept well.

Sunday, 8. – Up at 4 o'clock, but as my horse had wound himself up I did not start till 6, to let him eat a bit. I saw a great many wood-hens about in the thick grass, but did not try to catch any. The first part of the way was pretty easy, being along the river's side. The sun was very powerful. At noon I caught a young duck and cooked and ate him, and halted for about four hours to rest my horse, making a tent of my blankets. I then followed the stream up to its source, where I crossed a pass in the mountains, and went down into another valley on the other side. Before coming to the pass the route lay along the steep sides of the hills. My little horse got along wonderfully well, picking his way over places where I had to hold on by my hands or support myself with a stick. On the other side another stream has its source, and flows into the Clarence River. This stream I followed down till night, when I camped in a dry hole, over which I made a sort of roof of sticks and grass.

Monday, P. – Set out at five o'clock and followed the stream till it became a large river and joined the Waiautoa (Clarence). The country is mountainous, but well grassed. I crossed at the junction, but seeing no old tracks on the other side, I came back and followed the Waiautoa up for some way to a place where I saw sheep tracks on the

sand. Here I crossed and kept the other side till towards evening I saw a pass to my left. The river runs east, so I thought this pass must be the way. I went up it and found abundant tracks, which followed along a high ridge projecting into the plain below, and so down. It came on to rain, and as it was near night I halted and made a good roof to windward of manuka sticks and branches. I dined to-day on another duck – I caught two large ones. The rain ceased but still threatened, so my roof was a great comfort. I did not tether my horse, as there was no clear place, and the fear of losing him kept me awake. At last I got up and went out determined to tie him up, but it was so dark I could not find him, so I lighted my fire and sat up till daybreak, when I again went out to look for him. I could not find him anywhere, when, just as I was beginning to think what things I should take with me in the event of his having made off, I saw his ears sticking above the manuka bushes.

Tuesday, 10. – This has been a day of misfortune. I set out in a large plain surrounded on all sides by high mountains, nothing but the sun to guide me, and several large swamps to be avoided. After losing one half of the day in making circles to look for tracks, I found the place where they ascended the hills and followed in the track. There is a large river, which at first I thought I should cross, but as it was very high, and I could see no tracks crossing, I gave up the idea; and it was fortunate, as, had I crossed or even tried to cross, I should have been either swept down or lost my way on the other side. Going up the hill I met a man on his way to Nelson. He proved to be the brother of the man from whom I had bought the mare. He

told me that after passing the hills I should come to a large river, which he said was impassable just now, and that I must wait till it fell before attempting to cross it. He also told me of a station some 20 or 30 miles down the river, and advised me to go there and wait until the river fell. Just after he left me it came on a fearful storm of wind and sleet, and I got involved in a burnt manuka scrub, from which I found it difficult to extricate myself; so, after wandering about for some hours, I halted, and making a frame with manuka sticks, I spread my rug for a tent, took off my clothes, and put on my blanket Native fashion. I then cooked a duck and made tea. I collected a heap of sticks to burn during the night. My clothes soon dried, so I put them on and slept pretty well, wakening up whenever I got cold, and lighting up the fire. I am out of the route, have no more food and biscuits than will keep me two days, but I do not feel the least alarmed. I know that God can provide for me even here, though I am in a place probably never before visited by a human being, ignorant of the way out of this on to the right track, and even should I find my way, I have an impassable river in front, which shuts me out from assistance.

Wednesday, 11. – When I got up this morning I got sight of the river from the top of a high hill which I had climbed. I fixed my course, and on emerging from the hills, found the river I saw to be another much further off than the big one I have to cross. On looking about me I found the directions given me by the man I met so very vague that I gave up the idea of trying to get to the station down the river and made up my mind to try and cross it. I tied all my baggage on the top of my saddle, put my

matches in the top of my hat, took off my trousers, and put on my swimming belt, and taking the end of the tether rope, I drove the horse in. For two thirds of the way the horse kept his legs, and I held on by his tail. He then began to swim, and almost immediately turned over, feet up and head down. Seeing this I struck out, got to the other side, and held on to the rope till the force of the stream brought him to the bank, but he did not make any attempt to get up. There he lay; the weight of the wet things on his back was too much for him, and I could not go near him, as the bank was composed of loose stones, and I would have been pulled in; so I let him lie for some time, then allowed him to float down, keeping his head up till I came to a place where another stream ran in. There I made a rush and got the girths loosed, when he got up on his legs, but the saddle and all my things floated away. As I had no wish to go into Canterbury without my trousers, I jumped in after them, and after much work got them out at a place where the river was shallow near the bank. Had it not been for the swimming belt I should have lost everything. As soon as I got out I lighted a large fire, dried everything, had some tea, and set out again. On this side some hills ran down to a point. These I ascended, when I saw another river, and high flax beyond. I determined to keep up on the hills to avoid the swamps, and also to have a good view of the plain. After I had gone some miles I noticed two horses far away on the plain. Soon they began to move quickly. I watched them, and seeing them keep in one direction till they got out of sight, I determined to strike for the same point. Presently I saw a cloud of dust rise, and soon afterwards smoke. I could see no house, so thought they might be

travellers, but I kept on towards the place. About sunset I got to it, and had the pleasure of seeing several men and a flock of sheep. I went up to them and found that it was Mr Young's station. The house consists of a hole in the bank with a roof over it, and a sort of drain for a chimney.

My trousers were torn nearly to pieces. I had only kept them on by flax bandages, so they gave me a pair of moleskins which only came about two inches below my knees, but I was glad to get them to put on. I then went to the house, where I had a good supper of bread and mutton, and turned in on a wool-bale, thankful for getting again amongst human beings and out of the endless mountains where I had been wandering for the last four days.

Thursday, 12. – I halted here to-day to rest my horse; he is nearly done. The half drowning he had in the Waiau has nearly finished him.

Mr Young is here just now. I think this is the most miserable attempt at a station I could possibly imagine. They have about 600 sheep of every kind and breed – all scabby. They have no yards or shed. Some shearers came here, but would not remain on account of the want of accommodation. The wool is in the house – it is nearly full of it – and his men are shearing under a blanket for a shed. One man dips the sheep into a cask, after which they are let loose amongst the scabby ones. I went out with Mr Young to try and keep the flock together, but they are so wild that many got away, darting off to the hills at full gallop. They seem as wild as deer.

Friday, 13. – I set out at 9 a. m., crossed the plain and Hurunui River, and passed a station, after which I crossed some limestone hills down into another

plain, where I found a small shepherd's hut in the bed of a small river. Here I passed the night. The floor was made of small round stones – not a very comfortable sort of thing to sleep upon – but I got some broad palings, which I laid under my rug. The country I passed through is covered with long, fine grass, but I saw no trees. The people get all their firewood out of the river beds. The whole of this country has been taken up, but it is not nearly stocked.

Saturday, 14. – Up at daybreak and off. It is about 45 miles to Christchurch. I cannot go direct, as there are some swamps on the way, in which I should probably stick if I were to try and cross them. About 11 o'clock I crossed the bed of a river, nearly a mile wide, all round stones. On the other side I came to a house from which there was a dray-road the whole way. About here there are several patches of white pine. On the way I passed several huts, some Native places, and two ferries across sluggish-looking rivers, and got into the town about 5 o'clock. The country is quite flat, with some sand-hills near the sea. My poor horse was very tired; he wished to stop at every house I came to, and seemed to think it very hard to have to pass so many. Before I got to the inn I had great difficulty in even driving him before me. As soon as I got in I went to several (indeed all) the stores to get a pair of trousers, but the only ones I could get were corduroys, as much too big for me as the others were too small.

Sunday, 15. – I remained at home all day.

Monday, 16. – I called at the Land Office this morning. The Commissioner here takes the opposite

view of the regulations from the man at Nelson. He is willing to sell the land held as runs outside the block at 5s an acre, provided it be unfit for agriculture. I sold my horse for £40. I have lost £15 by him, but he has served me well, and would not have brought more than £25 in Nelson. There are some passengers from England per "Northfleet" here. They were returning to the port, and I walked with them. We crossed the hill – 1000 feet high – a tremendous pull up. The port is ten miles from Christchurch. All goods are brought up in small vessels round by the heads, and up a river to within a mile or two of the town. There is a fine view from the top of the hill, but the country on the other side of the harbour was covered by a thick fog, so I did not see much of it.

Tuesday, 17. – I hired a horse to-day and rode to Christchurch to get my things. I have determined to return to Wellington in the "Wellington," which, they say, sails to-morrow.

All the people who are anxious to buy land here are waiting till the price be reduced. There is no chance of any outside the block being bought until that inside is disposed of, as for any one to buy it now would be only to sink money.

Wednesday, 18. – The "Wellington" was to have sailed to-day, but cannot get out, as the wind is contrary. I called at the post-office and got letters from Aunt Flora and John. I walked round the hills and had a view of the Heads. They have made a road a little way round, but it is said it would take £12,000 to complete it.

Thursday, 19. – Hanging about all day in hopes of the wind changing. The captain is drunk.

Friday, 20. – The same as yesterday.

Saturday, 21. – About 1 p. m. the wind changed, and I went on board just as they had got up the anchor. The wind came round again, and we tried to beat out. At the Heads it fell calm, and we had to anchor for the night.

Sunday, 22. – Wind came fair towards evening. We weighed anchor and stood out. The captain still drunk. Wind came stronger, and we lay to all night off Motunau.

Monday, 23. – We have to take in wool here. At daylight a small island came in sight. It is off the place, so we stand in and about 1 o'clock come to anchor. No boat came off till 5 p. m., when I landed, went up to the house, and remained all night. The country here is like what I passed the day in before I got to Christchurch – covered with tufty grass; and the beach is covered with round chalk stones.

Tuesday, 24. – Mr Caverhill, the manager of this station, sent to another station nine miles up the coast for a boat, which did not arrive till 11 o'clock, when we all set to work to ship the wool. It is very Blow work. They have 65 bales, and only nine goat a time. They had time to make but two trips when the tide going out put an end to the proceedings for the day.

Wednesday, 25. – Had to leave off shipping the wool to-day in consequence of the wind rising after getting one half of the bales on board. I went off to the schooner and found the captain and men all drunk.

At half-past 11 a. m. the wind came from the south. By that time the men were pretty sober. They slipped the cable and got clear of the reef off the island by a near shave. They were quick – only ten minutes – getting under weigh; had they been longer we should have gone ashore.

Friday, 27. – A very fine morning. We stood in. The wind tell, and we had to let go the other anchor to save the vessel from drifting into the island. In about an hour afterwards the wind came north and we got under weigh, and picked up the end of the other chain and got it on board. Just then a boat-load of wool came off. I am in hopes we shall get it all in to-day and be off to-night. They have brought off a sheep, so we shall have something to eat. There is nothing but salt beef on board. We sent a water cask on shore to be filled. Towards evening the wind fell and a heavy swell came on. The people who were bringing the wool brought off our water cask and left the ship saying they would bring no more, so we got ready for sea. Just as the men were going to begin getting up the anchor they came off with three more bales. The swell had by that time increased, and we were afraid the chain would snap every moment, so we refused to take more. The old captain insisted on its being taken, but the men were firm, and set to work at the anchor, so the boat dropped astern and we got under weigh. There was so little wind that for a long time we could hardly tell whether we were driving or drifting in, but at last we got a light breeze and got clear of the land.

Saturday, 28. – There is a strong north wind blowing and we are standing out from the land, truly

thankful to have escaped the danger we were in last night.

Sunday, 29. – Wind as yesterday until noon, when it came fair for an hour or two, and we got as far as the Kaikouras.

Monday, 30. – During the night we drifted back. There has been a strong north wind all day. Towards evening we had to lie to.

Tuesday, 31. – Laying to all night. They say the gale seldom lasts more than 24 hours, so I hope it will soon be over. Our water is nearly done. The captain and crew use nearly four bottles of grog a day. (There are five of them.) They say the captain has never been sober, when he could help it, for the last 12 years.

Wednesday, February I. – The gale still continues. At daylight we were close to the land, the wind coming in gusts, one of which brought the vessel about just as the most sober of the men was saying that it was time to stand out again. Some of the men got grog up out of the hold, and at half-past 1 o'clock Johnstone and the captain were quite drunk. The passengers (another man and myself) are obliged to look after the ship. We can only show a small corner of our main-sail. The sea is all white, but our little vessel rides it like a cork, and the deck is seldom wet.

Thursday, 2. – During the night the gale moderated; the wind came more from the west. At 11 a. m. saw the Kaikouras to the west, and land in sight north. We think it is Cape Palliser. The captain is too drunk to know what it is, and the men

are of different opinions. The wind died away towards the evening. Our water is very nearly done.

Friday, 3. – Calm all night; breeze from southwest. We stand in towards the land, which I think is Cape Palliser. The captain came up to-day and ordered the vessel to be steered N. W., which will just clear the cape. He thinks it is the Kaikouras.

While I was below one of the men took upon himself to alter the course and steer N., by which we have lost the day, for when we again steered in and made the land, night had come on, so we could not make it out, and had to lie to all night.

Saturday, 4. – Almost calm. The captain came on deck and declared the land to be Cape Palliser. We see the Kaikouras and the low land on the opposite side, so there is now no doubt as to our position. Had the captain been sober we should have got into Wellington last night; as it is, we have the prospect of being here some days without water. Calm and light winds all day, so we have made no progress.

Sunday, 5. – Thick weather and light rains. Land is in sight – Port Nicholson Heads. We have no water – not a drop. On making the land we supposed to be Port Nicholson Heads, it was declared to be Cape Palliser. Last night one of the men let go the anchor. Fortunately one part of it was fast, or it would have run out and been lost. I was in my bunk at the time, and thought the ship had run against a rock. We steer for the heads, but owing to the thick weather we passed them and continue west until we sight Cape Terawhiti. A small schooner which followed us discovered the mistake first and put about. We followed and lay to all night.

Monday, 6. – This morning Port Underwood land and the Bluff in sight. The captain, who is suffering from want of water, wants to put into the former; but as Port Nicholson is as near, and the wind is equal for both places, we steered for Port Nicholson and soon sighted the land, which, after looking at my map and an old Port Cooper Almanac, I make out to be Cape Terawhiti. We steer more east and sight Cape Sinclair, and soon after see the heads. Wind is S. E., so we hope soon to be in.

Last night I found Johnston taking grog out of the hold. He said the captain had told him to do so, but the captain denied, and scolded him for taking it. However, the grog remained, and both Johnston and the captain are drunk this morning. John is at the helm. He knows the entrance well, and as the wind is east, takes us in through Chaffers passage. As soon as we got within the heads I called up the men, who were sleeping off the effects of the grog they had taken, and made them get up the chain. I went down and told the captain that we were in. He seemed quite delighted, and said he would rather hear that than get a hundred pounds.

At half-past 11 I landed and called at the post-office. There was only a letter from John and duplicates of those I had before received from Aunt Flora.

Tuesday, 7th. – John, I find, has gone over to Queen Charlotte's Sound. The only vessel here for Australia will not sail for a month, so I must wait.

Wednesday, 8. – A Mr Russell spoke to me to-day. He knows John, and recognised me by my likeness to him. He told me he considered Ahuriri to be the finest district in New Zealand. He thinks that by

next year things there will be more settled than at present. Just now there are many claims for land, &c, and it is difficult to settle a purchase, as it has not been surveyed yet. This morning was bright and fair, but a strong wind, with rain, has set in from the north, and it is now a miserable wet day.

Thursday, 9. – I walked out to the Hutt River to-day. It is ten miles from Wellington. I got back by tea-time. The valley of the Hutt extends from the harbour to the Tararua mountains – about 50 miles. It is thought a great deal of by the Wellington people; and considering the formation of the country round their town, it is not extraordinary that they should think much of this little bit of flat land. A great deal of it is very swampy, and parts are frequently overflowed by the river. I noticed several neat patches of cultivation, and I have no doubt but that it is in the main fertile as far as it goes; but it is but a speck compared to the extent of hilly country about it.

Just after I returned the Government brig came in from Auckland. I am in hopes of getting by her the things which I left behind.

Saturday, 11. – Captain Cormack, of the 15th, called on me to-day, and we had a long conversation about this country, as well as about old things and people. I went on board the brig, but could not ascertain whether my things were on board or not. I had hoped to have got them in time to enable me to go to church, but was disappointed. The people on board were too busy to attend to me.

Sunday, 12. – A fine day, but I had to remain at home.

Monday, 13. – Went on board the brig again, but could not hear anything of my kit. I find this a very dull place. There is nothing to do, and nowhere to go. I generally walk about the hills, but more for exercise than to see the place. There is nothing except the harbour worth seeing. The moon is full just now, and at night the harbour is beautiful.

Tuesday, 14. – I called at Bethune and Hunter's to-day to inquire about my things, and found that they had arrived about a month ago in the man-of-war brig "Fantome." I got them taken to the hotel, and found everything as I had left it except my poor hat, which looked as if it had been in a drunken row the night before. I dined with Cormack to-day. He is going to Canterbury and Otago in the brig.

John ought to have been back by this time. There is a vessel for Melbourne at Nelson, and I wish much I could go in her; but I do not like to leave without seeing John, and if I went across I might miss him.

Wednesday, 15. – Two young men of the name of Todd, from Ireland, who are travelling in this country, and have been here for some time, left for Port Cooper and Otago to-day. I miss them. One, quite a boy, is a very sharp, lively little fellow. I feel very much the want of something to do here. The only people I meet are shopkeepers or tradesmen – a low, drinking set, with whom I have nothing to do. When I first came I used to speak to everyone in order to get information, but I now find that I know about as much as any of them, and more than most. I often read over my letters, and wish I could get more from Konawarran. The last I had was

dated October 3rd – a long time ago now. I have made up my mind to go over to Nelson and take my passage in the "Roller" to Melbourne. There is a schooner of 15 tons going to-morrow. I am in hopes of finding some letters at Nelson, which alone would be a sufficient inducement to go over.

Thursday, 16. – The schooner was not got ready yesterday, so our departure has been put off till tomorrow. With the exception of one or two days we have had delightful weather all the time I have been here. I prefer the climate of this place to that of any other I have visited, and I think, taking everything into consideration, it is the best place for an Indian to recruit at. I find that I have increased considerably in size since I came to New Zealand, and I am of opinion that the climate at this season is infinitely better than that of Australia. What it may be in winter I do not know, but from all I can hear, the whole country south of Nelson is cold and wet, the snow never lying long, as it does at Home. The Canterbury Plains must be most miserable in winter, as there is no protection whatever from the wind; and even in summer, I am told, the southwest winds blow with such violence as to prevent trees from growing, and drive the poor sheep to the hills. The north-west wind, which comes from the snow mountains is, strange to say, a warm, mild breeze compared to the south-west wind.

Since I arrived one of the men of the "Wellington" has been drowned. He was called Jim, and had been for fifteen or twenty years about the south of the Middle Island, whaling, &c, and had just come up here for the first time. His death has been caused by drink. I am told he is the third man who has been drowned within the last few months out of

the "Wellington." The cook who came up with us is in gaol for having wounded a man in the hand by throwing a hammer at him. The man is either dead or dying. This also is the result of drink, and the captain is the cause of both these deaths, he having encouraged the men to drink, and supplied the grog, until all the men got into such a state that they could not stop drinking. It is disgraceful that such a man should be allowed to sail a ship. He ought to be put into a lunatic asylum, for he is not fit to take care of himself, much less to be entrusted with the lives of others. He told me that about 14 years ago he was whaling at Queen Charlotte's Sound, and that his employers sent from Sydney large quantities of grog, which was sold by him to the men at high rates, and that it was then he first took to drinking. Thus these unprincipled people, in order to cheat the poor men out of their wages, have been the means of bringing about an incalculable amount of crime and misfortune.

Friday, 17. – A gale of wind is blowing to-day from the south. The schooner which was to go to Nelson is not ready yet. The Government brig went out to-day, and in the evening John arrived. I saw a Nelson paper which came to-day, and I find there is no vessel there for Melbourne, so I must remain here until one leaves this for Australia. John has had a very uncomfortable passage across. Having been unable to get a berth, he has had no sleep for the last three nights.

Saturday, 18. – The gale continues. Clouds of dust are flying along the streets. I saw the captain of a schooner – the "Scotia" – for Melbourne. He says he does not take passengers, but he thinks he can

take me, and will give me an answer on Monday. The only other vessel here for Australia goes to Sydney, and will not leave for ten days.

Sunday, 19. – I attended the Free Church place of worship to-day. The preacher tried to impress upon us the necessity of receiving the evidences of Christianity in a humble, truth-seeking spirit. His sermon was very good, but his manner was bad. He seemed to try to convince his hearers by the loudness of his voice and action of his body as much as by his words. I did not go again in the evening.

Monday, 20. – There is a schooner in from Melbourne to-day. Got a letter from Aunt Flora, and one from the Union Bank, but none from Konawarran. I fancy Rachel must have received the letter I sent from Auckland, and so sent my letters to Nelson. I cannot otherwise account for not having heard from her.

John and I went on board the "Scotia" and saw the mate, who said the captain had told him that he was going to take two passengers – brothers. She sails on Thursday next, so there is a hope of soon seeing those I love again. Had it not been for the drunkenness of the "Wellington" captain I should in all probability have been by this time at Konawarran, as two vessels left this after the time I ought to have arrived from Port Cooper. The weather here is very hot just now, but not nearly so much so as in Nelson and Canterbury when I was there. Aunt Flora talks of the advantage of Otago harbour, which puts me in mind of what I was told by several seafaring men from that port, viz., that the Otago harbour is rapidly filling up, and that vessels of any size cannot now approach within

several miles of where they used to discharge. Nelson harbour is also spoken of by all sailors as a very bad one. Few ships will enter into it, as once in, they are often detained for a long time before they can get out again. It has no land communication with any part of the Nelson province except the town itself and the Waimea Valley, and never can become a port of much importance, unless it be on account of the copper mines, the working of which would introduce a description of population not advantageous to Nelson as a place of residence for respectable people. The Nelson people talk of having a small steamer to go about the coast and pick up the wool and other produce. This would, I doubt not, bring a great deal to their port which now goes to Wellington, but in a short time the Waitohi road will be made, and then all the Wairau, Wakefield, and Fairfield Downs produce will be sent to Nelson and shipped direct either to England or Sydney. I hear that the Ahuriri people are going to send their produce to Auckland next year. The Auckland people seem to be much more reasonable in their charges than the Wellington folks, who, so far as I can learn, take every opportunity to victimise those who deal with them, and thus, by overcharging those whom they get into their power, compel people to resort to other ports.

Tuesday, 21. – A strong breeze from the south today. The people on the "Scotia" still getting in logs, and I hear they are to take potatoes and hay, so I fear they cannot be ready by Thursday.

Wednesday, 22. – Some rain fell during the night, and slight showers all day.

Thursday, 23. – Still damp, with the wind blowing steadily from the south. I saw the captain of

the "Scotia." He said that he had to get in some planking to put the potatoes on to-day, but the boatmen were all "on the spree," and would not work. I fear this will delay us. In the afternoon I saw some planks go on board.

Friday, 24. – A bright, sunny day; wind still south, but light. The "Scotia" will not sail before Tuesday next. On that day there is to be a grand festival at the Hutt in commemoration of the arrival of the first settlers, and I suspect the captain wishes to be present, in which case we shall not get off before Wednesday.

Saturday, 25. – A delightful day, bright and cool. The "Mountain Maid" brig is in from Otago. The "Wellington" is to go to Nelson to take passengers, but I think people will hardly go in her, for I have made no secret of the conduct of the captain and men on the passage from Port Cooper.

The man-of-war brig is going to the south. There are a great many vessels here just now, and produce of all sorts is high.

Sunday, 26. – A mild, sunny day.

Monday, 27. – Wind strong from the north-west. Should this continue it will prevent our getting away.

Tuesday, 28. – The wind the same as yesterday. In the afternoon I went to see the festival. We did not go to the dinner, but were in time to hear some of the speeches, the drift of which seemed to be reciprocal praise. One man said that he knew that more books had been published about New Zealand than about any other colony, &c After they had finished their speeches the tables were cleared away, and dancing began. About two-thirds of the people were Natives, some of whom attempted to dance

trying their utmost to imitate the Europeans, very few of whom could dance a bit. Some of them tried to waltz to a polka, and I saw others dancing hornpipe steps to a waltz tune. We soon got tired of it, and returned to town. The place the festival was held in is a large building made of flax, and put up by the Natives for the occasion. I do not think any respectable white females remained to the ball – at least, if those who did so are considered as belonging to that class here, it says little for them.

Wednesday, March 1. – The wind is the same as yesterday, and a fine, bright day.

Thursday, 2. – Wind still blowing from the northwest, but there are some indications of a change. I have been collecting flax seed, and also some flax roots, which I am told retain their vitality for a long time. I hope and trust we shall get away tomorrow, being very tired of this place, though I like it better than any other I have seen in this country. It is very up-hill having nothing to do when once one has seen every spot worth seeing.

The people from Australia all say the season has been very dry there. There is a great demand for potatoes and hay. Potatoes have gone up from £6 to £10 a ton, and the people now refuse to sell at that price, hoping to get more before long.

Friday, 3. – Last evening I went to the Ship Hotel, where the captain of the "Scotia" lives, to find out if he intended to sail to-day. When I went in I saw the woman who keeps the house, with her husband, dragging out by the hair a man of the name of Macrae, whose father I had met at his station in the Middle Island. John was there. I rescued Macrae from the landlady and pushed him out (he was drunk), and then, not knowing but that

John might be attacked, I turned into the doorway and saw the woman make a furious attack upon him with a hunting whip, with the butt end of which she hit him several times. He was much hurt, and as I was afraid he might retaliate on the woman, I begged of him to come out, which he did after he had taken the whip from her. I found that John had not interfered in any way, having gone to the hotel for the same purpose as myself, and was talking to the captain when the woman attacked Macrae. After the row was over we went to the police magistrate and had the woman and her husband up before the court this morning, when they were fined. It seems they were both drunk. At the court they deposed that I was the person who had created the disturbance – that I had jumped over the table and offered to fight all present, &c This, of course, all went against them, as the magistrate had seen me a quarter of an hour after the affair had taken place, and knew that I was perfectly sober. I was amused at the man and woman when told to question the witnesses. They each wished to put questions at the same time, and one told the other to keep quiet, at last falling out and contradicting each other. I have since been told that they are both notoriously bad characters, and it says little for the Wellington police and magistrates that they are allowed to retain their licenses. I did not think the better of our captain for living in such a place, but I suppose he is like most sailors, and cares little how he behaves in a strange place. The captain had promised to sail today, but he has been having so many parting glasses with his friends that he is not fit to go. John brought him down here with the intention of taking him on board, but Mr Pemble came and took him away to his house again. He (Mr Pemble) was

drunk, and very abusive to me, but I was determined to have nothing to do with him, so took no notice of what he said, and I did not think it was worth while getting into a row with him for the sake of rescuing the captain from his clutches. I have been nearly a week in Wellington and have never had a word with anyone, and just because I have assisted to punish this man – who deserved much more than he got – I have had several people here to-day evidently trying to pick a quarrel with me, but I treated them all with silent contempt. I could not help replying to the remark of one man, who said that the good people of Wellington were always afraid of Australians, but that there was not much fear of being cheated by them, as all their transactions were for ready money. I told him – what none of them can bear – that before the Australians came to deal with them they had no such thing as ready money transactions, for the reason that there was no ready money amongst them.

Saturday, 4. – This morning, as soon as we had breakfast, we got on board and under weigh. We got out before sunset, but then the wind fell, and we made no progress during the night.

Thus ends the record of these few wanderings in New Zealand. The following is a copy of some lines found with the journal, and therefore not inappropriate as a closing paragraph: –

When sadness creeps into my soul,
And drives me near despair,
I've but to look beyond the goal,
Where all is bright and fair –
I've but to raise my trusting eyes
To Jesus for me slain,
And all my human tears and sighs
Pass off like summer rain,
And leave upon my soul a glow
Of heavenly ardour bright;
Nor death, nor hell, nor aught below,
Can rob me of that light.

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