and valour of their chief added to the prestige of frequent victories, and, above all, to the confidence inspired by the possession of new and powerful weapons, unknown, in most cases, to their earlier opponents, led them unhesitatingly to engage in enterprizes, the difficulties and dangers of which might otherwise well have deterred even bolder men. Nor was the special confidence inspired by the possession of firearms at all surprising, when we remember the extraordinary results which have recently been brought about, even amongst European nations, by mere improvements in the construction of the weapons used in warfare. In the case of Austria, for example, the power of one of the greatest military nations of the world was almost annihilated, and has certainly been permanently reduced, in consequence of the possession, by their recent adversaries, of weapons of somewhat greater precision than their own. We cannot, therefore, wonder at the results which would be produced upon even the most warlike savage people, where the arms on the one side were muskets, and on the other mere clubs and wooden spears and more especially where those who used the latter had had no previous knowledge of the destructive power of the more deadly weapons brought against them. My narrative will, indeed, often recall the graphic language of De Foe when describing the effect produced by the guns of Robinson Crusoe and Friday upon the savages engaged in butchering their prisoners: “They were, you may be sure,” he says, “in a dreadful consternation, and all of them who were not hurt jumped upon their feet, but did not immediately know which way to run or which way to look, for they knew not from whence their destruction came.” We shall find, in effect, that this was the principal reason why the wars carried on by Te Rauparaha were, notwithstanding the smallness of his own forces, quite as disastrous to the numerous tribes which occupied the scenes of his exploits, as those which were waged against their own neighbours by the more powerful chieftains in the northern parts of the country, and that Te Rauparaha contributed as largely as most of the former to the enormous destruction of life which took place during the two-and-twenty years above referred to. But before entering upon the immediate subject of this memoir, I have thought it desirable to compile a short account, showing—the habits and character of the New Zealanders; their laws in relation to the acquisition and ownership of land; their customs in war; the general condition of the tribes before the introduction of firearms, and the effects which that circumstance in their history produced upon them. I have thought it would be satisfactory to my readers that I should adopt this course, not merely as a matter of speculative interest, but because some knowledge upon these subjects will really be found necessary to a full appreciation of the events I propose to relate, and of the characters of the chief actors in those events.

I propose in the present chapter to inquire, shortly, into the habits and

customs of the New Zealanders in especial relation to the ownership of land, and to war, and then to offer some observations regarding their social and individual characteristics; and I may at once say that in compiling the following notice of these matters I have availed myself largely of Mr. White's “Lectures on Maori Customs and Superstitions,” and of Mr. Colenso's “Essay on the Maori Races,” which, though by no means exhaustive, are sufficient to enable those who have had any opportunities of personal observation, and who may, therefore, read them by the light of locally acquired knowledge, to obtain reasonably clear ideas upon these points. It would appear from the facts collected by these and other writers, and from the traditions of the New Zealanders themselves, that from the very earliest times they clearly understood the value of the possession of land. This was, of course, naturally to be expected in a people dependent upon the cultivation of the soil for a considerable proportion of their ordinary means of subsistence, for although New Zealand, as a rule, is a fertile country, and possesses a mild climate, and is almost everywhere covered with a dense vegetation, its natural vegetable productions, suitable for the proper sustenance of man, are extremely limited; and the Natives would often have suffered from want if they had been wholly dependent for their supplies of food upon the indigenous vegetation, and upon the uncertain results of their rat-chases and their fisheries. No doubt, whilst the Moa still abounded in various parts of both Islands, it afforded them a better class of animal food than any other they possessed before the introduction of the pig, but we have no positive information as to the date at which this source of supply failed them, nor do I think the materials for the determination of this question are at all likely to lead to any certain results upon the point. There can be no doubt, indeed, that long before the time of Cook, the most valuable articles of food used by the Maoris were not indigenous, as, for example, the Kumera (Convolvulus chrysorhizus), the Taro (Caladium esculentum), and the gourd-like Hue, in the growth of each of which a special and most careful mode of treatment was necessary. We find, accordingly, that a very large part of the time of the people of all classes was taken up in these cultivations, as well as in the preparation of such indigenous substances as were at all suitable for food; for, independently of the immediate family wants, the hospitalities of the tribes—to which all the members must necessarily contribute, especially on solemn occasions—led to the expenditure of large stores of provisions. As I have before observed, it was natural that a people, whose ordinary wants necessitated the cultivation of the soil to any large extent, should attach great value to the possession of land; and we find, in effect, that every tribe claimed its own special domain, and preserved the most accurate knowledge of the extent and limit of its territorial rights.

“There is no point,” says Mr. White, “on which a New Zealander's

indignation can be more effectually roused than by disputing his title to land. This love for his land is not, as many would suppose, the love of a child for his toys; the title of a New Zealander to his land is connected with many and powerful associations in his mind. He is not, of course, what we call a civilized man, but in dealing with him we deal with a man of powerful intellect, whose mind can think and reason as logically on any subject with which he is acquainted, as his more favoured European brethren, and whose love for the homes of his fathers is associated with the deeds of their bravery, with the feats of his boyhood, and the long rest of his ancestors for generations. The New Zealander is not accustomed to law and parchment, or to wills and bequests, in gaining knowledge of or receiving a title to the lands of his fathers; nor would he quietly allow any stranger to teach him what lands were his, or what lands were not; what were the names of the boundaries, the creeks, mountains, and rivers in his own district. The thousand names within the limits of his hereditary lands were his daily lesson from childhood. The son of a chief invariably attended his father, or his grandfather, in all his fishing, trapping, or spearing excursions; and it was in these that he learnt, by occular demonstration, the exact boundaries of his lands, and especially heard their various names. It was a custom with the Maoris in ancient times to eat the rat—a rat indigenous to this country, and caught in traps set on the tops of the mountain ranges. This was a source of part of their daily food, and it was therefore, with them, a point of great importance to occupy every available portion of their lands with these traps; and as most of the tribal boundaries are along the range of the highest hills or mountains, and as these were the common resort of the rat, every New Zealand chief soon naturally became acquainted with the exact boundary of his land claims. He did not, however, limit these claims to the dry land—they extended to the shellfish, and even out to sea, where he could fish for cod or shark, or throw his net for mackerel; nor did he go inadvertently to these places, and trust to chance for finding his fishing grounds—he had land-marks, and each fishing-ground and land-mark had its own peculiar name; these to him were more than household-words; his fathers had fished there, and he himself and his tribe alone knew these names and land-marks. Where a creek was the dividing boundary of his lands this was occupied by eel-dams. These dams were not of wicker-work, that might be carried away by a flood—labour and art were bestowed upon their construction, so that generations might pass, all of whom in turn might put their eel-basket down by the carved and re-ochred totara post which their great grandfather had placed there. When the dividing boundary between two tribes ran along a valley, land-marks were put up; these consisted generally of a pile of stones or a hole dug in the ground, to which a name was given significant of the cause which gave rise to such boundary being agreed

to; such, for instance, as Te Taupaki—the name given to the dividing boundary on the West Coast between the Ngatiwhatua and Tainui tribes—which means the year of peace, or the peaceful way in which a dispute is adjusted. This boundary had its origin from a chief of the Ngatiwhatua, called Poutapuaka, going from Kaipara to take possession of land with his paraoa, or bone spear. His intention was to go along the coast as far as the quantity of food which he carried would enable him to travel, and return from the point at which his food was expended; he had succeeded in taking possession of the whole of the line of sandy coast called Rangatira, and on arriving at the top of the hill, now known as Te Taupaki, he met the Tainui chief Haowhenua. They both halted, sticking their spears in the ground, and inquiring of each other the object of their being there. They found that they were both on the same errand, and at once agreed that this meeting point should be the boundary dividing the lands of the tribes whereof each was the representative. The Ngatiwhatua chief at once dug a hole with his bone spear, and the boundary so established has remained to this day. I may state,” adds Mr. White, “without fear of contradiction, that there is not one inch of land in the New Zealand Islands which is not claimed by the Maoris, and I may also state that there is not a hill or valley, stream, river, or forest, which has not a name—the index of some point of the Maori history. As has been stated above, the New Zealander knows with as much certainty the exact boundary of his own land, as we could do from the distances and bearings given by a surveyor. But these boundaries are liable to be altered at times; for instance, when lands are taken by a conquering tribe, or are given by a chief for assistance rendered to him by another tribe in time of war, or when land given to the female branch of a family again becomes, after a certain time, the property of the male branch of the family. In certain cases, also lands are ceded by a tribe for a specific purpose, with certain restrictions, and a tenure conditional on certain terms being complied with.”

Mr. Colenso, in his “Essay on the Maori Races,” tells us that their views of property were, in the main, both simple and just, and in some respects (even including those most abnormal) wonderfully accorded with what once obtained in England. Amongst them, property was usually divided into two classes, namely, peculiar and common. Every man, for example, had a right to his own, as against every one else, although this right was often overcome by might. A man of middle, or low rank, caught, perhaps, some fine fish, or was very lucky in snaring birds—such were undoubtedly his own; but if his superior, or elder chief, wished or asked for them, he dared not refuse, even if he would. At the same time, such a gift, if gift it might be termed, was (according to custom) sure to be repaid with interest, hence it was readily yielded. The whole of a man's movable property was also his own, which

included his house and fences, as well as all his smaller goods. All that a freeman made or caught, or obtained, or raised by agriculture, were his own; although his house, created by himself, was his own, yet if not on his own land (rarely the case) he could not hold it against the owner of that spot, unless such use had been openly allowed to him by the owner before all (i te aroaro o te tokomaha). So a plantation planted by himself, if not on his own land (also a rare thing), he would have to leave after taking his crops, on being ordered so to do; but not so if he had originally, and with permission, felled the forest, or reclaimed that land from the wild; in which case, he would retain it for life, or as long as he pleased, and very likely his descendants after him. To land, a man acquired a peculiar right in many ways:—

1. Definite.—(a.) By having been born on it, or, in their expressive language, “where his navel string was cut,” as his first blood (ever sacred in their eyes) had been shed there. (b.) By having had his secundines buried there (this, however, was much more partial). (c.) By a public invitation from the owner to dwell on it. (d.) By having first cultivated it by permission. (e.) By having had his blood shed upon it. (f.) By having had the body or bones of his deceased father or mother, or uterine brother or sister, deposited or rested on it. (g.) By having had a near relative killed or roasted on it. (h.) By having been bitterly cursed in connection with that piece of land, i.e.—this oven is for thy body, or head; on that tree thy liver shall be fixed to rot; thy skull shall hold the cooked birds, or berries of this wood. (i.) Or by the people of the district using for any purpose a shed which had been temporarily put up there, and used by a chief in travelling.

2. Indefinite.—(a.) By having been invited to come there by the chief with a party to dwell (lit., having had their canoe in passing called to shore). (b.) Through his wife by marriage; but such would only be a quasi life-interest to him, i.e., during her life and infancy of the children, as, in case of children, they would take all their mother's right. (c.) By having assisted in conquering it. (d.) By having aided with food, a canoe, a spear, etc., an armed party who subsequently became conquerors of it. All these equally applied, though he should belong to a different tribe or sub-tribe.

3. Beyond all these, however, was the right by gift or transfer, and by inheritance, which, not unfrequently, was peculiar and private. This (which has of late years been much contested, and too often, it is feared, by ignorant and interested men, or by those who have too readily believed what the talkative younger New Zealanders now say,) may clearly be proved beyond all doubt:—(1.) By the acts of their several ancestors (great-grandfathers) to their children, from whom the present sub-tribes derive their sub-tribal names, and claim their boundaries; such ancestors divided and gave those lands simply to

each individual of their family, which division and alienation, however unfairly made, has never been contested. (2.) By their ancient transfers (gifts or sales) of land made by individuals of one tribe to individuals of another, as related by themselves; and from which gift or alienation, in many instances, they deduce their present claims. (3.) By their earliest (untampered) sales and transfers of land to Missionaries and to others, which were not unfrequently done by one native (as was notably the case in the first alienation of land by deed to Mr. Marsden, at the Bay of Islands, in 1815). Although the foreign transferees (not knowing the native custom) often wished others, being co-proprietors, to sign the document of transfer; and this, bye-the-bye, came to be looked upon as the New Zealand custom; whence came the modern belief that all must unite in a sale; and thence it followed that one could not sell his own land! But such is not of New Zealand origin.

It will be observed, that there is some difference of opinion between the two writers from whom I have quoted, as to the existence of definite individual rights of property in land, as distinguished from tribal, or common, or indefinite rights; but as this is a point which little concerns the purpose of my narrative, I shall do no more than refer to it here. The extracts above given, at all events sufficiently show that the Maoris always attached the greatest value to the ownership of the soil, and took the utmost care to preserve an accurate knowledge of the boundaries of the tribal estate. The very value, however, attached to the possession of land naturally led to aggression and to the use of various other means of acquiring title to it; and not only in many of their traditions, but also in all other accounts of the habits of the race, we find mention of wars undertaken for purposes of conquest, and of marriage alliances being contracted, and other devices resorted to, for the purpose of peacefully securing additions to the tribal territory. Upon the first of these points, Mr. White tells us that a tribe, in going to war, had one or more of three objects in view:—1. To take revenge for some real or supposed injury. 2. To obtain as many slaves as possible. 3. To extend its territory. “A tribe,” he says, “seldom became extinct in consequence of war, but when this resulted, the conquering tribe took all their lands, and from the slaves taken in war the conquerors learnt the boundaries of the land thus taken. But, if a portion of the tribe escaped, their claim held good to as great an extent of land as they had the courage to occupy. If, however, they could manage to keep within their own tribal boundary, and elude their enemy, their right to the whole of the land held good. Hence the meaning of a sentence so often used by old chiefs in their land disputes: I ko tonu taku ahi i runga i taku whenua (my fire has been kept burning on my land); meaning that other tribes in war had never been able to drive them entirely off their ancestral claims. The right to lands taken by conquest rests solely on the conquering party actually

occupying the taken district, to the utter exclusion of its original owners or other tribes; thus, in a war of the celebrated Hongi, he drove all the tribes out of the Auckland district into Waikato, and even as far as Taranaki; but though the whole district thereby became his, yet, as he did not occupy it, the conquered tribes, on his return to the North, came back to their own lands; and we found them in occupation when Auckland was established as an English settlement. Again, in, the case of a tribe which had been conquered and had become extinct, with the exception of those who had been made slaves by the conquering party, these slaves could, by purchase, recover the ownership of their tribal rights to land, or they could be liberated and return to their own lands on a promise of allegiance to the conquerors, rendering them any assistance, if required, in times of war, and supplying them, for the first few years after their return, with a certain amount of rats, fish, and fernroot; and eventually, on presenting the conquerors with a greenstone battle-axe (the mere pounamu), they were again allowed to be called a tribe, and claim the lands of their fathers as though they had never been conquered.

The claims in connection with lands given to a tribe for assistance rendered in war are more complicated than any other. Although the land was given to the leader of the tribe rendering such assistance, it did not thereby become vested in that individual leader, inasmuch as the assisting tribe were seldom alone, but had brought their allies, and, if these allies had lost any of their chiefs in battle, each relative of the deceased chiefs had a claim in the land thus given; and each relative of any chief who had been killed, of the tribe to whose leader the land was given, had also a claim. But the complication of land claims does not end even here. It was necessary that the land given should be occupied so that possession of it be retained, and as the assisted and assisting tribes became related by intermarriage, the tribal lands of the assisted tribe were claimed by the issue of these marriages, according to the laws relating to the ownership of land as affected by the marriage tie, so that after a few generations their respective claims not unfrequently became the cause of another war. An instance of this happened about four generations ago. One of the northern tribes rendered assistance in time of war to a southern tribe, now residing not far from Auckland, and a portion of land was given to the northern tribe; shortly afterwards the daughter of the southern chief was taken in marriage by one of the chiefs of the northern tribe; the two sisters of this woman were married to chiefs of the southern tribe, and thereupon their children's claims held good; but when the time came for the offspring of the sister, who had married the northern chief, to give up their land, the colonization of New Zealand had commenced, and land became a marketable commodity. This offspring retained their claims against all right and argument, and to this day there is a rankling feeling between the tribes concerned;

and if, in this disputed land, incautious dealing by Europeans takes place, it would probably result in a Maori war. The war in the Bay of Plenty, which has been continued until very lately between certain chiefs, also originated in a like cause; the contending parties were all of one tribe, and sprung from one ancestor, but, by intermarriage, some have a more direct claim than others. The descendants, who, by intermarriage, are related to other tribes, have made an equal claim to the land over which they have but a partial claim, and resistance to this was the cause of the war. Disputes of this kind are not easily unravelled. I believe that were it possible to teach the Maoris the English language, and then bring them into some Court, allowing each contending party to plead his cause in such a dispute as I have mentioned, not according to English law, but according to Maori custom, both sides would, according to native genealogy and laws, make out their respective cases so clearly that it would take a judge and jury, possessed of more than human attainments, to decide the ownership of the land.

While speaking about lands claimed by conquest, I will give a few instances of land claimed by the offspring of those male or female chiefs who have been made slaves in war. It would not generally be supposed that lands disposed of at the southern end of this Island would affect any native at the northern end of it, yet such is the case. A chieftainess who was taken slave from the South by the Ngapuhi and other northern tribes, became the wife of a Ngapuhi chief; her claim stood in the way of completing a sale of the land, and it was not until the consent of her son by the Ngapuhi chief was gained, that the land could be disposed of by the natives residing on it, and to him, in due course of time, a portion of the payment was transmitted. Again, a chief who was taken slave from the Bay of Plenty by the northern tribes, having taken a northern woman to wife, and having a family, his relatives from the Bay of Plenty made presents to the chiefs by whom he was taken, and procured his return home; but he was obliged, according to Maori laws of title to land, to leave his wife and daughters with the Ngapuhi people, for if he had taken them with him, they would have lost their claim to land at Ngapuhi, and would not be allowed any claim to land in the Bay of Plenty; while his son, whom he took back with him, now claims, by right of his grandfather, an equal right to the lands of the Bay of Plenty tribe. Again, one of the northern chiefs having taken to wife a woman whom he had made slave from Taranaki, and having a son by her, this son returned to the tribe of his mother and claimed as his right, derived from his grandfather, a share in their land, which was not disputed, because, as I have before stated, the great-grandchild in the female line has a claim to land. I remember another instance of this: a certain block of land was sold by a tribe near Auckland, and when the purchase money was portioned out amongst the claimants, a

northern chief rose up and rehearsed his genealogy, by which he proved that he was the great-grandchild (in the female line) of one of the claimants of the block sold. He thereupon, as a matter of course, received a part of the purchase money. He was a northern chief, and had only been known to the settlers by name.”

In addition to the above points, which more especially affect the events of my narrative, Mr. White gives us details of other modes of acquiring title to land, with illustrative cases of the most interesting kind; but there is one custom which he does not refer to, and which was mentioned to me by Wi Tako Ngatata, namely, that in some cases a conquered tribe, absolutely driven from its lands, was formally restored to possession by the conquerors. He stated, as an instance, that this was done in the Wairarapa, after the Ngatikahungunu had been forced to the northward by the Ngatiawa, under E Puni and himself, in revenge for some isolated acts of violence perpetrated upon members of their own tribe. He informed me that this proceeding was always a highly formal and ceremonious one, and was carried out, in the instance in question, in consequence of many intermarriages having taken place between the two tribes since the settlement of the Ngatiawa near Port Nicholson, and of the absence of any desire on the part of the latter to push their vengeance to extremity. It would lead me too far, were I to enter more at length upon the points above referred to, and I will now proceed shortly to notice some of the leading features in the character and habits of the natives in other respects. There can be little doubt that, both in intellectual and physical capacity, the Maori occupies a high position amongst savage people; but I cannot agree with Mr. White when he says, “that in dealing with him, we deal with a man of powerful intellect.” I admit that he possesses much intelligence, and a quick perception, but he is wanting in one of the chiefest characteristics of the civilized man—a characteristic only acquired by a long course of national education—namely, the power of foreseeing the result of these special classes of actions to which his contact with Europeans gives the greatest importance. It is not, however, altogether in this respect that I propose to view his character, for the principal events in my narrative took place before the colonization of the Islands; and their want of foresight when dealing with the agents of the New Zealand Company would not have produced effects injurious to them, but for the occurrence of events which have taken place since the death of Te Rauparaha. “Their ordinary course of life,” says Mr. Manning, speaking of the natives, “when not engaged in warfare, was regular, and not necessarily unhealthy; their labour, though constant in one shape or other, and compelled by necessity, was not too heavy. In the morning, but not early, they descended from the hill pa to the cultivations in the low grounds; they went in a body, armed like men going to

battle, the spear or club in one hand, and the agricultural instrument in the other. The women followed. Long before night (it was counted unlucky to work till dark) they returned to the hill in a reversed order; the women, slaves, and lads, bearing fuel and water for the night, in front; these also bore, probably, heavy loads of kumera or other provisions. In the time of year when the crops, being planted and growing, did not call for their attention, the whole tribe would remove to some fortified hill, at the side of some river, or on the coast, where they would pass months in fishing and making nets, clubs, spears, and implements of various descriptions; the women, in all spare times, making mats for clothing, or baskets to carry the crop of kumera in, when fit to dig. There was very little idleness, and to be called “lazy” was a great reproach. It is to be observed, that for several months the crops could be left thus unguarded with perfect safety, for the Maori, as a general rule, never destroyed growing crops, or attacked their owners in a regular manner until the crops were nearly at full perfection, so that they might afford subsistence to the invaders; and, consequently, the end of the summer all over the country was a time of universal preparation for battle, either offensive or defensive, the crops being then near maturity.” This picture exhibits a very unhappy condition of existence, for it is manifest that no race, in such a position, could ever rise further in the scale of civilization (paradoxical as the language may appear) than was sufficient to improve their knowledge of the art of war. But, notwithstanding this unsatisfactory condition of the tribes, the people appear, in their social and domestic relations, to have been, generally speaking, good natured and hospitable, though being little, if at all, fettered by conscientious motives or restraints, they were at all times easily roused to acts of violence and cruelty. With them, moreover, revenge was a most persistent feeling, and the duty of ministering to it was considered of sacred obligation. Their love of war was universal and intense, and in its prosecution they were as reckless of the consequences to themselves as they were of the results to their foes. “Nothing,” says Mr. Manning, “was considered so valuable or respectable as strength and courage; and to acquire property by war and plunder was more honourable, and also more desirable, than by labour.” Their cruelty to their prisoners was frightful. Cannibalism was considered glorious, and this habit led not only to the most dreadful atrocities, but also to a degree of callousness, in regard to the sufferings inflicted upon others, which appears to be utterly incompatible with, and renders singularly remarkable, the kindliness of feeling which they constantly exhibited in their domestic relations. It is clear, however, that whatever good qualities the Maori possessed in his quiet and social moments were utterly lost when he was acting under the impulse of passion. Mr. Colenso, in describing their character, particularly alludes to their love for children,

“Heemskirk” on their guard, and to direct them not to place too much trust upon the good intentions of their visitors. The men in the shallop were at once attacked by the savages, and, being without arms, three of them were killed, the remaining four fortunately escaping by rowing for their lives. Tasman intended to have taken revenge for this murderous assault, but was compelled to leave without doing so, in consequence of rough weather coming on. It is probable that the people, by whom his boat's crew was attacked, belonged either to the Ngaitahu tribe—who, under the leadership of their ancestor Tahu, a chief of the Ngatikahungunu, crossed Cook Straits nearly three hundred years ago—or to the Rangitane and Ngatiapa, large numbers of whom also crossed Cook Straits some time before Tasman's visit, and took part in the destruction of the Ngatimamoe and other tribes which had previously occupied the northern parts of the Middle Island; but I am unable to determine this point. It is clear, however, that the number of natives then living in Massacre Bay was large, and that they exhibited the same fearless and ferocious character which led to such frequent hostile collisions with them, during the visits of subsequent voyagers. Our next accounts are derived from our own navigator, Cook, who had been directed to follow out the discoveries of Tasman regarding New Zealand and Van Dieman's Land, in order to ascertain whether they constituted part of the then little known continent of Australia. In October 1769, Cook first made land at a place which he named Poverty Bay. He did not then know that he had fallen in with the Staaten Land of Tasman, and the country he had found formed the subject of much eager discussion amongst the voyagers, the general opinion inclining to the belief, that it was part of the continent of Australia. He described the country in the neighbourhood of his land fall as being thickly peopled, and was greatly struck with the appearance of a pa, the use of which he was unable at the time to conceive. “Upon a small peninsula, at the north-east head of the bay, we could plainly see,” he says, “a pretty high and regular paling, which enclosed the whole top of the hill, which was the subject of much speculation, some supposing it to be a park for deer, others an enclosure for oxen and sheep.” Of course, Cook soon afterwards discovered the nature of these structures, which will be fully referred to in the sequel, and which had nothing to do either with deer, oxen, or sheep. Having landed for the purpose of watering the ship, his people were at once attacked with spears and “a sort of war hatchet of green slate, capable of splitting the hardest skull at a blow.” Notwithstanding all his efforts to conciliate, he found it impossible to come to any amicable understanding with the natives, even though Tupia (his interpreter) assured them that no harm was intended; and his seamen at last only effected their retreat in safety, after killing one of their assailants. The next day he again endeavoured to open friendly intercourse

with the natives, and succeeded in approaching them, but they then became as thievish as they had previously proved daring. They endeavoured to snatch the arms out of the men's hands, and were only prevented from doing so by some of them being wounded with small shot.

Failing in his attempts to communicate satisfactorily with them on land, Cook now endeavoured to secure some of those who came out to the ship in their canoes, intending to try and win their confidence by kind treatment. In carrying out this design, four more of the natives were killed, but two lads were captured and carried aboard, where they soon became reconciled to their fate, and eat and drank voraciously. These lads were afterwards landed, but the people still remained as hostile and dangerous as before. Cook then followed the coast, northward, as far as Hawke's Bay, everywhere observing vast numbers of people watching the ship from different parts of the shore, all of whom, however, displayed the same hostility, coming off in their canoes, and menacing the ship “with great bravado.” When some of them came near enough, Tupia told them of their folly, explaining “that the white men had weapons that, like thunder, would kill them in a moment, and tear their canoes to atoms.” In order to show them the effect of the guns, without hurting them, a four-pounder, loaded with grape, was fired, which by its flash, its roar, and the effect of the shot far off on the water, astonished them for a moment; but only for a moment. Being at last induced to come near, for barter, they took everything offered, but then refused to give the articles required in exchange, and ultimately seized and attempted to carry off Tayeto, Tupia's boy, who had been sent down into one of the canoes, in order to hand up such articles as the natives might agree to part with. This compelled Cook to fire on them again, when one man was killed, and two others were wounded, and the boy, during the surprise, sprang into the water; where, however, he was only protected till he regained the ship, by the firearms of the crew. This occurred at Kidnappers' Point, and Cook then proceeded southward as far as Cape Turnagain; from whence he returned to the north-eastward. On passing Portland Island, a chief and four others, in a canoe, boarded the ship—Cook's kindness to the lads whom he had previously seized having, apparently, produced the effect he intended. Their canoe was hoisted on board, and they stayed all night without any misgivings. In the morning they were put ashore at Cape Table, appearing to be much astonished at finding themselves so far away from home. From this time the ship was frequently visited, and it was found that the events which had taken place at Poverty Bay were well known all along the coast. According to Cook, “kindness and the cannon” both contributed to produce this more friendly feeling.

At Tolega Bay, some of the scientific men attached to the expedition

landed for the first time, taking Tupia and Tayeto with them. Here they had their first close view of the houses and mode of life of the people. They entered some of the huts, and saw them at their meals. These huts are described as being very slight, and generally placed ten or fifteen together.

The chief food appeared to be fish and fern-root, the fibres of which were spit out, like quids of tobacco, into baskets set beside them for the purpose. This was in October, and Cook learnt that, in the more advanced season, the natives had plenty of excellent vegetables, but no animals except dogs, which they ate like the South Sea Islanders. They visited the native gardens, which consisted of from one acre to ten, and altogether, in the bay, amounted to 150 or 200 acres in extent. These gardens are described as being planted with sweet potatoes, coccos or eddas (such as are used in the East and West Indies), yams, and gourds; but few of them were then above ground, and the plantations were carefully fenced in with reeds. They found both men and women painted with red ochre and oil, but the women much the most so; and that, like the South Sea Islanders, they saluted by touching noses. They wore garments of native cloth, made from the fibre of New Zealand flax, and a sort of cloak or mantle of a much coarser kind. The women are described as being more modest in manner, and more cleanly in their homes, than the Otaheiteans. They willingly bartered their cloth and war weapons for European cloth, but they set no value on nails, having then no knowledge of iron or its uses. What astonished the visitors greatly was to find boys whipping tops exactly like those of Europe. Cook then visited a pa, and learned that these enclosures were used for purposes of defence against invasion, the houses, within the enclosure, being larger and more strongly built than those on the shore. He describes the men as having their faces wonderfully tattoed, and their cheeks cut in spiral lines of great regularity; and states that many of them had their garments bordered with strips of dog and rat skins, which animals, however, were said to have become very scarce. They measured one canoe, made out of the boles of three trees, which was sixty-eight and a half feet long, five wide, and three high. These, as well as the houses, were much adorned with carvings, in which spiral lines and distorted faces formed the main points, but the work was so well done, that Cook could scarcely believe that it was executed with any of the tools he saw.

He then followed the south-east coast as far as Mercury Bay, and from thence to the Bay of Islands, everywhere observing villages full of people, who constantly came off in their canoes to utter defiance to the ship, displaying, on all occasions, the same reckless daring and unreflecting courage, which were so conspicuous during the late war. It was surprising, indeed, that half-a-dozen naked men, in a crazy canoe, should defy a large ship with all its cannon and musketry, even after they had seen its destructive effects. Sometimes they

assumed a more friendly aspect, and began to trade; but as soon as they had obtained what they wanted, they refused to give up the equivalent, and laughed at all menace of consequences, till they suffered wounds or death as a punishment, and then the survivors paddled off for a time. These accounts are confirmed, in all particulars, by other voyagers who visited New Zealand during the latter part of the last, and the earlier part of the present century, and lead to the conclusion that, prior to the year 1818, the native population was very large; and although we know, as I have before observed, that neighbouring tribes had been for ages constantly engaged in war with one another, it would also seem that the general results of their conflicts had not, until after the introduction of fire-arms, been such as materially to interfere with the maintenance of their numbers.

Mr. Manning, one of the judges of the Native Lands Court, a gentleman whose opportunities of acquiring knowledge on this subject have been unrivalled, also bears testimony to the former large numbers of the native people. “The natives,” he says, “are unanimous in affirming that they were much more numerous in former times than they are now, and I am convinced that such was the case for many reasons.” In support of this opinion, he refers to the existence, in most parts of the North Island, of numerous hill-forts or pas, many of them so large as to have required immense labour to trench, terrace, and fence. As he points out, the absence of iron tools must have greatly increased the difficulty of constructing these fortresses; whilst, even with the aid of such tools, the present population of the surrounding districts would, in most cases, be insufficient to erect them within any reasonable time. He also mentions that many of these forts were of such an extent that, taking into consideration the system of attack and defence necessarily used before the introduction of fire-arms, they would have been utterly untenable, unless held by at least ten times the number of men which the whole neighbourhood, for a distance of two or three days' journey, can now produce; and as, in those times of constant war, the natives, as a rule, slept in their hill-forts with closed gates, the bridges over the trenches removed, and the ladders of the terraces drawn up, it is evident that the inhabitants of each fort, though numerous, consisted only of the population of the country in its close vicinity.

“From the top of one of these pointed, trenched, and terraced hills,” says Mr. Manning, “I have counted twenty others, all of equally large dimensions, and all within a distance, in every direction, of fifteen to twenty miles; and native tradition affirms, that each of these hills was the stronghold of a separate hapu, or clan, bearing its distinctive name.” We have, moreover, evidence that vast tracts of land which are now wild, and have been so for time out of mind, were once fully and carefully cultivated. The ditches for

draining are still traceable, and hundreds of large kumera pits are to be seen on the tops of the dry hills all over the northern part of the North Island.

These pits, in the greatest number, are found in the centre of extensive tracts of uncultivated country, whose natural productions would now scarcely sustain a dozen inhabitants. The extent of the ancient cultivations with which they are connected is clearly traceable, and what is more remarkable, and undoubtedly indicates the former existence of a large population, is that tracts of land of what the natives consider, as a rule, to be of very inferior quality, were formerly cultivated, leading to the inference either that the population was fully proportioned to the extent of available land, or that these inferior lands were cultivated in consequence of their vicinity to some stronghold, or position of greater consequence, in the eyes of the natives, than the mere fertility of the surrounding country. “These kumera pits,” says Mr. Manning, “being dug generally in the stiff clay on the hill-tops have, in most cases, retained their shape perfectly, and many seem as fresh and new as if they had been dug but a few years. They are oblong in shape, with the sides regularly sloped. Many collections of these provision stores have outlived Maori tradition, and the natives can only conjecture to whom they belonged. Out of the centre of one, which I have seen, there is now growing a kauri tree, one hundred and twenty feet high, and out of another a large totara. The outline of these pits is as regular as the day they were dug, and the sides have not fallen in in the slightest degree; from which, perhaps, they have been preserved by the absence of frost, as well as by a beautiful coating of moss, by which they are everywhere covered. The pit in which the kauri grew had been partially filled up by the scaling off of the bark of the tree, which, falling in patches, as it is constantly doing, had raised a mound of decaying bark round the root of the tree.”

Mr. Manning points out, as further evidence of the former existence of a large population, that each of the hill-forts referred to contained a considerable number of houses. Every native house, as we know, has a fire-place composed of four flattish stones or flags, sunk on their edges into the ground, in which a fire is made to heat the house at night. Now, in two of the largest hill-forts he examined (though for ages no other vestige of a house had been seen) there remained the fire-places—the four stones projecting, like an oblong box, slightly above the ground; and their position and number clearly denoted that, large as was the circumference of the huge volcanic hill which formed the site of the fortress, the number of families inhabiting it, required the strictest economy of room. The houses had been arranged in streets, or double rows, with paths between them, except in places where there had been only room, on a terrace, for a single row. The distances between the fire-places proved that the houses in the rows must have been as close together as it was possible to build them;

and every spot, from the foot to the hill-top, not required, and specially planned for defensive purposes, had been built on in this regular manner. Even the small flat top, sixty yards long by forty wide—the citadel—on which the greatest care and labour had been bestowed to render it difficult of access, had been as full of houses as it could hold, leaving only a small space all round the precipitous bank for the defenders to stand on.

It would not be difficult to multiply authorities, in order to prove that the New Zealanders were formerly much more numerous than when the Islands were first systematically colonized by Europeans, but I conceive that I have afforded sufficient evidence on this point, and it now remains for me to notice the principal causes which led to their decrease.

“The natives,” says Mr. Manning, “attribute their decrease in numbers, before the arrival of the Europeans, to war and sickness;” but I have already shown, that although the weapons they used before they obtained firearms were sufficiently formidable in close combat, the destruction of life incident to the possession of such weapons would, probably, never have brought about the deplorable results which followed upon the introduction of the musket into their system of warfare. Indeed, Mr. Manning himself leans to this opinion. “The first grand cause,” he says, “of the decrease of the natives, since the arrival of the Europeans, is the musket.” Now, it was not until after the year 1820 that fire-arms were extensively used in native warfare. Shortly before that date, the Ngapuhi chiefs, Hongi and Waikato, had visited England, from whence they returned laden with valuable gifts, of which no small part consisted of guns and ammunition, for which, too, they soon bartered the remainder of their newly-acquired treasures, with traders from New South Wales.

Then commenced a period of slaughter almost unparalleled in any country, when compared with the total population engaged in the conflicts. Bands of the Ngapuhi, armed with weapons whose destructive power was unknown to the great majority of the native people, marched from one end of the North Island to the other, carrying dismay and destruction wherever they went. The population of large districts was exterminated or driven into mountain fastnesses, where they either perished, in numbers, from famine and exposure, or contracted diseases which ultimately proved fatal to them. The great tribes of the Arawa and Waikato, against whom the first efforts of the Ngapuhi were directed, seeing the necessity of at once obtaining similar weapons, in order to avoid threatened destruction, suspended all their usual pursuits for the purpose of preparing flax, to be exchanged with the European traders for guns, powder, and ball. As fast as these were obtained, they were turned against weaker neighbours, and the work of destruction received a fresh impulse. Hongi, Epihai, Tamati Waka Nene, and Tareha, amongst

the Ngapuhi chiefs,—Te Wherowhero, and others of the Waikatos,—and Te Waharoa, with his Ngatihaua, were all simultaneously engaged in the most ruthless wars against their neighbours; whilst, as I have before observed, Te Rauparaha was carrying on operations of a similar character in the South, and the number of people slaughtered was tremendous. On this head, I might quote many graphic passages from Mr. J. A. Wilson's “Story of Te Waharoa.” In speaking of the ultimate destruction of the great pa at Matamata, he tells us, “That at that time a number of Ngatimaru, with Tuhurua as their chief, resided at Matamata, an important fortress, not far from Mangakawa, Te Waharoa's own place, and therefore in a position which rendered them specially open to his incursions. Nor could they expect any effective aid against these incursions from the other sections of the tribe, whose internal jealousies, and constant dread of the Ngapuhi, then using their newly acquired weapons, in taking vengeance for former injuries, prevented them joining Ngatimaru proper against the common enemy. But for these circumstances, of which Te Waharoa was, no doubt, well aware, it is considered questionable whether he would have succeeded in his designs, as the Thames natives, before they lost the Totara Pa, mustered 4,000 fighting men; and, even after that disaster, he was unable, by mere strength, to wrest it from its possessors.” The following events, however, determined him to prosecute his war with Ngatimaru, and greatly contributed to his ultimate success.

“In 1821,” says Mr. Wilson, “a taua of Ngapuhi, under the celebrated Hongi, arrived at the Totara Pa, between Kauaeranga and Kopu, at the mouth of the Thames. So numerous did they find Ngatimaru, and the Totara so strong, that, hesitating to attack, they affected to be amicably disposed, and were received into the pa for the purposes of trade and barter. Towards evening Ngapuhi retired, and it is very remarkable—as indicating that man, in his most ignorant and savage state, is not unvisited by compunctions of conscience—that an old chief of the Ngapuhi lingered, and going out of the gate behind his comrades, dropped the friendly caution ‘kia tupato.’ That night, however, the Totara was taken; and, it is said, 1,000 Ngatimarus perished. Rauroha was slain, and Urimahia, his daughter, was carried captive to the Bay of Islands, where she remained several years. This calamity, while it weakened Ngatimaru, encouraged Te Waharoa.

In 1822, Hongi again appeared, and sailing up the Tamaki, attacked and carried two pas which were situated together, on part of the site now occupied by the village of Panmure. Many of the inhabitants were slaughtered, and some escaped. I would here observe that these two pas, Mauinena and Makoia, had no connection with the immense pa which evidently at some time flourished on Mount Wellington, and which, with the traces of a very

great number of other enormous pas in the Auckland district, betokens the extremely dense Maori population which once existed upon this isthmus—a population destroyed by the late owners of the soil, and numbered with the past; but which, in its time, was known by the significant title of Nga Iwi—‘The Tribes.’

Leaving naught at Mauinena and Makoia but the inhabitants' bones, having flesh and tendons adhering, which even his dogs had not required, Hongi pursued his course. He drew his canoes across the isthmuses of Otahuhu and Waiuku, and descended the Awaroa. At a sharp bend in the narrow stream, his largest canoe could not be turned, and he was compelled to make a passage for her, by cutting a short canal, which may yet be seen.

At length he arrived at Matakitaki, a pa situated about the site of the present township of Alexandra, where a number of Waikato natives had taken refuge. The pa was assaulted, and while Hongi was in the act of carrying it on one side, a frightful catastrophe was securing to him the corpses of its wretched occupants on the other. Panic-stricken at the approach of the victorious Ngapuhi, the multitude within, of men, women, and children, rushed madly over the opposite rampart. The first fugitives, unable to scale the counterscarp, by reason of its height, and of the numbers which poured down on them, succumbed and fell; those who had crushed them were crushed in like manner; layer upon layer of suffocating humanity succeeded each other. In vain did the unhappy beings, as they reached the parapet, attempt to pause—death was in front, and death behind—fresh fugitives pushed on; they had no option, but were precipitated into, and became part of the dying mass. When the deed was complete, the Ngapuhi came quickly up, and shot such as were at the surface and likely to escape.

Never had cannibals gloated over such unexpected good fortune, for more than 1,000 victims lay dead in the trench, and the magnitude of the feast which followed may, perhaps, be imagined from the fact that, after the lapse of forty-two years, when the 2nd Regiment of Waikato Militia, in establishing their new settlement, cleared the fern from the ground, the vestiges of many hundred native ovens were discovered, some of them long enough to have admitted a body entire; while numberless human bones lay scattered around. From several of the larger bones, pieces appeared to have been carefully cut, for the purpose, doubtless, of making fish-hooks, and such other small articles as the Maoris were accustomed to carve from the bones of their enemies.”

Nor was Te Waharoa idle during all this time. Having, by his courage, activity, and address, acquired the leadership of his own people, he had long determined to extend the boundaries of their territory by conquering that of the Ngatimaru; but, before commencing his sanguinary wars against that tribe, he had felt it necessary to form offensive and defensive alliances with the

Ngatimaniapoto and to check Te Wherowhero and the Waikatos, by whom he had been threatened, but into whom he succeeded in inspiring a wholesome dread of his strength, whilst he also repelled, with heavy loss, the incursions of the Ngapuhi, which were directed indiscriminately against all the tribes south of the Auckland Isthmus. He succeeded, moreover, in causing Te Rauparaha, as pugnacious and skilful a warrior as himself, to leave Kawia with his people. He then pressed his alliance upon the Ngaiterangi, who occupied Tauranga and the surrounding country, an alliance, which, by the way, proved very disastrous to them, whilst it greatly aided his own projects. Having done all this he commenced his more regular operations against the Ngatimaru, who were then established in great strength at Hauwhenua, where they had been joined by the refugees from Mauinena and Makoia. He had naturally viewed the establishment of this stronghold with the utmost jealousy, and it had no little effect in hastening the commencement of hostilities between the two parties. Feeling that his own warriors were not sufficiently numerous to attack the hostile pa, he summoned some of his Waikato and, Ngatimaniapoto allies to Maungatautari, who, only too ready, at once joined him to the number of 200 warriors. His own force comprised some 700 Ngatihaua and Ngaiterangi.

In the meantime, the Ngatimaru had spared no pains to strengthen their important stronghold, their garrison having, moreover, been increased by numbers of Ngatitematera and Ngatipaoa. The pa thus became a very large one, and densely peopled, not only with warriors, but with women, children, and slaves. Their numbers appear to have inspired them with much self-confidence, for when it became known that Te Waharoa had arrived at Maungatautari, with a taua 900 strong, they boldly determined to meet him in the open field. Perhaps they wished to decide the matter before he could receive further reinforcements; or perhaps they desired to avoid the mortification of seeing the enemy sit comfortably down before their pa, and regale himself on their cultivations. At any rate, they marched forth and took post on the hill, Te Tihi o te Ihimarangi—the place where the descendants of Waharoa's warriors opposed General Cameron in 1864; and, when the enemy was seen to approach, they rushed down and joined battle with him on the plain to the eastward. The contest was a severe one, but resulted in the complete defeat of the Thames natives. They were driven back over Te Tihi o te Ihimarangi, and down its reverse slope, and were pursued, with great slaughter, over the long narrow bushy plain that extends to Hauwhenua. At the end of a long and sanguinary day, the dejected men within the pa sat dreading the morrow's light, whilst Te Waharoa calmly considered his own and his enemy's positions. After resolving the matter for some time, he sent a herald to proclaim to the occupants of the pa “that during the next four

days anyone might retire unmolested from the pa, but on the fifth day Hauwhenua, with all it contained, would be taken and destroyed.” No answer was returned, but during the interval a multitude of all ages and sexes issued forth from the pa, and marched in close order along the road by Matamata to the Thames. That night Te Waharoa's ranks were recruited by many slaves, who deserted, under cover of darkness, from the retreating Ngatimarus, and on the following day the pa was assaulted and taken. The fall of Hauwhenua, which occurred about 1831, terminated the residence of the Ngatimaru on the Waikato; and was followed by operations, from a Waikato basis, which were successfully conducted against them, on the line of the Piako.

Whilst the earlier of these events were proceeding, the Ngatimaru chief, Takurua, maintained his position at Matamata; but about that time he appears, after much fighting, to have judged it advisable to accept terms of peace proposed by Te Waharoa. They were to bury the past in oblivion, and both parties were to live at Matamata, where, it was said, there was room for all. These terms were practically ratified by Te Waharoa and Takurua living side by side, in the utmost apparent friendship, for a period of about two years. Waharoa then, however, committed an act of perfidy, condemned even by the opaquely-minded savages of that day, by which he obtained sole possession of Matamata, and so turned the balance of power in his own favour, as greatly to aid him in his ultimate designs. One afternoon he left Matamata on pretence of a necessary journey to Tauranga—a circumstance rather calculated to lull suspicion than otherwise—and during his absence, his tribe at midnight rose, and massacred, in cold blood, the too confiding Takurua, and nearly every man of his tribe. Their bodies were devoured, and their wives and property were shared by the ruthless Ngatihauas.

This Maori St. Bartholomew's day occurred about 1827, and so weakened Ngatimaru, that Te Waharoa was enabled, after the fall of Hauwhenua, to push his conquests to the foot of the Aroha, and it is difficult to say where they would have ceased, had not his attention been unexpectedly diverted by the casual murder of his cousin Hunga, at Rotorua, in the latter end of the year 1835.”

I make no apology for citing these instances of atrocity, which exhibit, in the strongest light, the dreadful character of the wars carried on by the great chieftains in the North, during the twenty years succeeding Hongi's return from Europe. Indeed, this period has been well characterized by Mr. Colenso “as a fearful period in New Zealand.” “The Ngapuhi,” he says, “being well armed with muskets, revelled in destruction, slaying thousands. At Kaipara, Manukau, Tamaki, the Thames, the interior of Waikato on to Rotorua, and

pointed out as being part of the “Tainui.” This rock, with the land immediately surrounding it, was formerly under strict tapu, but the sanctity of the place, and of the supposed relic, have succumbed to the march of civilization, and curiosity-hunters have long since marred the picturesque outline of the stone by breaking off corners. Hoturoa is also said to be the ancestor of the Ngatiraukawa, Ngatikowhata and Ngatimaniapoto tribes, the order of descent in the several cases being much as follows:—From Hoturoa, through Hotumatapu and Kouwe, sprang Raka, whose eldest son, Tuihaua, was the ancestor of Toa Rangatira, the actual founder of the Ngatitoa as a separate tribe, and from whom they derive their name. From another son of Raka, named Kakati, through Tawhao and Turonga, sprang Raukawa, from whom the Ngatiraukawa derive their name. From Toa Rangatira, in direct descent, came Kimibia, the mother of Werawera, who married a Ngatiraukawa woman named Parekowhatu. These two were the parents of Te Rauparaha, and of his sister Waitohi, the mother of Rangihaieta, who will be frequently mentioned in the course of this narrative. Besides Te Rangihaieta, Waitohi had other children, of whom a daughter named Topiora is still living at Otaki, and is the mother of Matene Te Whiwhi, for many years past, and still, one of the most influential chiefs of the Ngatitoa and Ngatiraukawa tribes. Topiora's husband was a Ngatiraukawa man, of high rank, named Te Rangi Kapiki, who himself claimed to be closely connected to Ngatitoa, both by ancient descent and through frequent intermarriages between members of the two tribes. Tracing back again, we find Te Urutira and his sister, Hine Kahukura, in the third place in the ascending line from Toa Rangatira. From Hine Kahukura sprang Parewahawaha and Parekowhatu, the former of whom married Tihau, by whom she had a son named Whatanui, the father of the great chief of that name, who was at the head of the Ngatiraukawa tribe, during the career of Te Rauparaha. We see, therefore, that the leading chiefs of the Ngatitoa and Ngatiraukawa tribes claim descent from common ancestors, and that frequent intermarriages took place between the members of these tribes, since they branched off from the common stock. The same remarks apply, but in less degree, to the descent of the Ngatimaniapoto and Ngatikowhata, who also claim Hoturoa as their remote ancestor; but it is unnecessary, for the purposes of my story, that I should trace up the history of these tribes, as they do not appear to have taken any prominent part in the events in which the Ngatitoa were engaged after their departure from Kawhia.

As my readers are doubtless aware, Kawhia is the only harbour of any note between the Manukau, which lies about sixty miles to the northward of it, and Wanganui, which lies at some distance within the entrance of Cook Straits; but, like all the other harbours on the West Coast of the North

Island, its entrance is somewhat impeded by sand-banks. The entrance is narrow, but inside the Heads the waters spread out for many miles in length and width, having numerous navigable channels leading to a series of small rivers, which flow into the harbour from the eastward. At full tide, this sheet of water is extremely beautiful, surrounded, as it is, with picturesque scenery, which attains its highest effect at the north-east end, in the neighbourhood of the Awaroa River. Rock masses, assuming the forms of towers and castles, occupy its shores, whilst the gullies and valleys of the streams which fall into it contain tracts of fertile and highly cultivated soil. The character of the landscape continues the same far up the slopes of the surrounding mountains, the name of the “Castle Hills” having been given to them in allusion to the masses of white limestone which emerge, in huge castellated forms, from the forest with which these mountains are generally clothed.

Between Kawhia and the Waipa valley, a little to the northward of the former, is the beautiful Pirongia mountain, “an ancient, dilapidated volcano,” whose many peaks and ravines afford a grand spectacle when bathed in the mellow light of the setting sun; whilst the soil on its slopes, derived from the decomposition of the trachytic rock of which it is composed, is of the most fertile kind. The climate of the whole district is delightful, the orange and the lemon yielding their fruit with a luxuriance unsurpassed even in the delicious valleys of Granada. The seaward aspect of the mountain chain to which I have alluded, as well as the slopes of the Pirongia, are, however, densely wooded, rendering travelling through this country toilsome and difficult. At the time I speak of, the Ngatimaniapoto occupied the country lying along the coast to the northward, whilst the Waikato tribes, of whom Te Wherowhero was the head chief, claimed the principal part of the valley of the Waipa, and of the country extending to the inner shores of the Manukau. To the eastward, beyond the range shutting in the Waipa valley on that side, and stretching from Otawhao to Maungatautari, lay the possessions of Ngatiraukawa proper, comprising some of the most fertile and beautiful country in the North Island. The Ngatituwharetoa, or Taupo tribes, under the leadership of Tukino Te Heuheu, one of the greatest of the old New Zealand chieftains—a man of gigantic stature and commanding presence, and whose deeds still form the theme of many a wild tale—clustered round the shores of Lake Taupo, and the spurs of Tongariro. As is well known, Te Heuheu met his death by an awful catastrophe in 1846, his village, Te Rapa, having been overwhelmed during the night by a huge land-slip, under which he and his six wives, with upwards of fifty other persons, were buried alive.

I have thought it necessary to mention the tribe of this chief amongst the others above referred to, for although he took a comparatively trifling part in the events in which Te Rauparaha himself was concerned, his friendship and

alliance were of great service to the latter, and permitted a ready means of communication between him and his Ngatiraukawa allies during the prosecution of his designs in the South.

It is almost impossible to determine the date of the birth of Te Rauparaha, but from the best information I have been able to obtain as to his probable age at the time of the Treaty of Waitangi, I am disposed to fix it at about the year 1770. He was born at Kawhia, where, except during occasional visits to other parts of the Island, and especially to his kindred at Maungatautari, he resided until he obtained the complete leadership of his tribe. He had two brothers and two sisters, all older than himself, but his brothers never assumed positions of importance amongst their people, and neither of them ever exhibited the particular qualities which have made Te Rauparaha so famous in the history of “Old New Zealand.” Te Rauparaha is said to have been a good, pretty, and playful child, possessing, amongst other qualities, that of obedience in a high degree. It is recorded of him, that on one occasion when directed by an old slave of his father's, named Poutini, to fetch water in a calabash, an order which, considering his rank, he would have been quite justified in disregarding, he at once obeyed and fetched it. But, like other youths, he now and then got into scrapes, and, to use the naif language of his son, “he did many good and many foolish actions.” As he advanced in years, his mind developed rapidly, and he soon exhibited an extraordinary degree of wisdom, though his parents scarcely gave him credit for qualities quite apparent to strangers; and, as it seems, were rather inclined to snub him in favour of his elder brothers. But this condition of things did not long continue, and the following incident brought his peculiar talents prominently before his people, and enabled him at once to assume a position of great authority amongst them, leading, ultimately, to the absolute chieftainship of the tribe. It was a custom amongst the Maori chiefs, before the introduction of christianity, to assign a wife to each of their male children, even before the latter had attained the age of puberty. In the case of Te Rauparaha, a girl named Marore had been given to him as the wife of his boyhood, of whom, as he grew up, he became very fond, and in whose cause he obtained his first experience as a warrior—his “baptism of fire.” It appears that his parents had invited a large number of the tribe to a feast, and when the food—the fish, the eels, and the kumera—had been placed upon the platform, Te Rauparaha saw that the portion allotted to Marore had no relish. This made him very sad, and after some consideration he asked his father's permission to lead a war party into the country of the Waikatos, in order that some people might be killed as a relish for the food apportioned to Marore. In those days his wish was, no doubt, considered strictly reasonable and proper—strictly tika in fact—and his father

at once placed under his leadership a number of young warriors, who were, as we may suppose, perfectly willing to join in such an expedition. During this time, as I have been informed, Te Rauparaha was suffering from some disease, attended with a good deal of physical pain; but notwithstanding this, and against the suggestions of his father to postpone the expedition until his health was better established, he determined to prosecute it, and the war party advanced into the territory of the Waikatos, with whom, at that time, they were in profound peace. In ignorance of their intentions, their advanced parties were permitted to enter a pa of the enemy, who, however, soon discovering their error, flew to arms, and succeeded in driving them out again with some loss. Te Rauparaha, with the remainder of the taua, seeing the rout of his advanced guard, at once took cover, unperceived by the Waikatos; and as the latter, in some disorder, were pushing the pursuit, he and his warriors attacked them in flank and rear, and defeated them with much slaughter, at the same time taking many prisoners, amongst whom was Te Haunga, a principal chief, who, with several others, was afterwards killed and eaten “as a relish” to the food apportioned to Marore. The success attending this expedition, and the skill shown by Te Rauparaha in taking advantage of the disorder of the enemy, at once rendered him famous as a Maori warrior; and from thenceforth he occupied a position of influence, not only with his own immediate tribe, but also with those to which it was allied, whilst his growing talents and power were looked upon with much respect and dread by those who had any reason to fear his prowess or his revenge. The event above referred to, naturally led to frequent battles with the Waikatos, in which Ngatitoa, under Te Rauparaha, were generally successful, although occasionally defeated with considerable loss.

In the intervals of peace, Te Rauparaha visited his kindred at Maungatautari, then under the general leadership of Hape Te Tuarangi, a distinguished old warrior, who had fought many battles against the Waikato tribes, and particularly one at Kakamutu, on the Waipa, in which the latter were defeated with tremendous slaughter. On the death of Hape, which will be more specially referred to in the sequel, Te Rauparaha married his chief wife, Akau, who became the mother of Tamihana Te Rauparaha, still living at Otaki, from whom I have obtained a large amount of information respecting the career of his celebrated father. Te Rauparaha, also kept up a constant intercourse with his friends at Rotorua, and frequently visited Te Heuheu, who was much impressed with the character of his visitor, and became his fast and valuable ally. Besides this, he made several excursions to the Thames in order to obtain the alliance of Ngatimaru—then a very powerful people, but who were subsequently nearly annihilated by the Ngapuhi from the North, and by Te Waharoa and his Ngaiterangi allies, as mentioned in the last chapter.

From the chiefs of this tribe, Te Rauparaha obtained a musket, with a quantity of ammunition, gifts of very great value at that time, and indicating the estimation in which he was held by his hosts. He also visited Kaipara, where he soon gained the friendship of the Ngatiwhatua, and other tribes in that district, and on his way back went to the Waitemata—he succeeded in forming an alliance with Kiwi and the son of Tihi, chiefs of the great tribes which then occupied that part of the country. I am led to understand that these visits took place between 1810 and 1815, and that Te Rauparaha then entertained the design of forming an extensive alliance against the Waikatos, under Te Wherowhero, with the intention of completely destroying them; but he found it impossible to effect his object, and chiefly for the following reason: After the establishment of the convict settlements in Australia, the South Seas were much frequented by whale ships, and the eastern coast of New Zealand, which then afforded a large supply of these valuable animals, became one of the principal whaling grounds. In the course of their voyages the ships often resorted to the Bay of Islands and the Harbour of Whangaroa for supplies of water and vegetables; and during these visits, the natives first learnt the use and power of the musket. The tribes with whom the chief intercourse took place, were the Ngapuhi, who at once saw the immense power which the possession of such a weapon would confer upon them in their contests with their enemies. Previously to this period, their own country had been constantly devastated by the powerful and warlike tribes of the Thames, and they naturally burned for revenge. Singularly enough, they were much aided in their object by the establishment of the mission stations, formed in the year 1813 under the Rev. Mr. Marsden, who had brought down with him, from Australia, pigs and poultry, and many kinds of vegetables, amongst which, the most valuable were the Indian corn and the potato. The pigs were suffered to run wild, and, having increased very much, were usually caught with dogs when wanted for purposes of trade, the natives themselves rarely using them for food, but they eagerly and successfully cultivated all the species of vegetables which had been introduced. Moreover, during the intercourse which took place between them and the whale ships, many natives visited Port Jackson, where they had further opportunities of learning the destructive power of the European weapons, and the eagerness of the tribes to procure them became so great, that twenty hogs, obtained at the expense of enormous labour, and worth to the ships more than as many pounds, were often given in exchange for a musket not worth ten shillings. In effect, the muskets usually sold to these natives were of a very worthless kind, and would not, in a contest with European troops, have been considered particularly dangerous weapons; whilst the natives own want of knowledge of the proper mode of taking care of them, soon led to the greater number of them becoming hopelessly out of

order. But unskilfully as they used the musket, and little as it might have been feared by Europeans, such was the dread of its effects amongst the natives, more especially on the part of the tribes which did not possess them, that the strength of a war party was, at that time, not so much calculated by the number of its members, as by the quantity of fire-locks it could bring into action; and when Paora, a northern chief, invaded the district of Whangaroa in 1819, the terrified people described him as having twelve muskets, whilst the name of Te Korokoro, then a great chief at the Bay of Islands, who was known to possess fifty stand of arms, was heard with terror for upwards of 200 miles beyond his own district.

But the musket was not the only weapon which the natives obtained from the European traders. The bayonet and the tomahawk, the former of which was fixed to a long handle, began to replace in their fights the wooden spear and battle-axe, and naturally added greatly to the offensive power of those who possessed them in any numbers. As fast as the Ngapuhi acquired these arms, they made hostile expeditions against the Ngatimaru, and other tribes occupying the Thames, and the shores of the Tamaki and Waitemata, carrying terror and destruction wherever they went. But in proportion as the whale ships and traders from Sydney extended their intercourse with the natives, the Ngatimaru, the Ngatihaua, and the Arawa, gradually acquired similar weapons, and thus fought on terms of greater equality; and it was also during this period, as mentioned in the last chapter, that Te Waharoa began to mature his designs for the destruction of the first of these tribes. I may here remark, that the trade referred to was almost confined to the Eastern side of the North Island, and that the tribes on the West Coast, at all events below the Manukau, had but little opportunity of obtaining the much coveted weapons. The wars in which Ngatimaru were engaged against Ngapuhi and Ngatihaua, and the want of a sufficient quantity of fire-arms amongst the tribes at Kaipara and Hokianga, coupled with their total absence amongst the other tribes on the West Coast, went far towards preventing Te Rauparaha from carrying out his designs against Waikato, whilst such designs became gradually less feasible, owing to the position of the latter, who, in consequence of the offensive and defensive alliance which they had formed with Te Waharoa, were enabled, without difficulty, to obtain supplies of muskets and ammunition.

When Te Rauparaha found it impossible to carry out his design, he returned to Kawhia, where, by a succession of victories over Waikato, and by the practice of hospitality, he greatly increased his power and influence with his own tribe, whilst he cultivated the friendship (due partly to good feeling, but largely to fear) of the Ngatiawa, who occupied the country to the southward, stretching from Mokau to Taranaki. He is represented

as having been, during this period, “famous in matters relative to warfare, cultivating, generosity, welcoming of strangers and war parties.” He is also said to have been particularly remarkable for the following reason: “If a party of visitors arrived just as the food of his workmen was cooked, and if those workmen were strangers to his treatment of visitors, and gave them their food, he ordered them to take it back, saying that fresh food was to be cooked for the visitors. The workmen would then be ashamed, and Te Rauparaha applauded as a man whose fame had travelled amongst all the tribes. When the workmen were satisfied, Te Rauparaha would cook fresh food for the visitors, who, when they had partaken, would leave. Hence, amongst his tribe a saying is used, ‘Are you Te Rauparaha? When his workmen are satisfied, food will be prepared for visitors.’

It appears that in 1817, or about three years before E Hongi left for England, and after the failure of Te Rauparaha's attempt to form an alliance against Waikato, a large war party arrived at Kawhia under the command of Tamati Waka Nene and of his brother Patuone, who invited Rauparaha to join them in a raid upon the southern tribes. Tamati Waka's people had a considerable number of muskets on this occasion, but the expedition had no special object beyond slaughter and slave-making, with the added pleasure of devouring the bodies of the slain. Te Rauparaha joined them with many warriors, and the party travelled along the coast through the territory of the Ngatiawa whose alliance with Ngatitoa, however, saved them from molestation. Hostilities were commenced by an attack upon Ngatiruanui, who were dispersed, after great slaughter. This first success was followed by attacks on all the tribes on the coast until the taua reached Otaki, great numbers of people being killed, and many slaves taken, whilst the remainder were driven into the hills and fastnesses, where many of them perished miserably from exposure and want. At Otaki the invaders rested, Rauparaha visiting Kapiti, which he found in possession of a section of the Ngatiapa tribe, under the chiefs Potau and Kotuku. It would seem that even at this time Te Rauparaha, who was much struck with the appearance of the country, formed the design of taking possession of it, and, with his usual policy, determined, instead of destroying the people he found on the Island, to treat them with kindness, though he and the other leaders compelled them to collect and surrender much greenstone, of which this tribe especially had, during a long intercourse with the Middle Island, and by means of their own conquests of the Ngaitahu, obtained large and valuable quantities. The hostile party then continued their course along the coast, destroying great numbers of people. On their arrival at Wellington, then called Whanganui-a-tara, they found that the inhabitants—a section of the Ngatikahungunu—alarmed at the approach of the ruthless invaders, had fled to the Wairarapa. Thither followed the

taua, and discovered the Ngatikahungunu, in great force, at a pa called Tawhare Nikau. Undaunted, however, by the strength of the fortress, they attacked and carried it with great slaughter. Large numbers of the unfortunate inhabitants escaped to the hills, where they suffered greatly, whilst the invaders, after following the fugitives as far as Kawakawa and Porangahau, killing many, fell back upon Tawhare Nikau, in order to gorge themselves upon the bodies of the slain. The party then returned to Wellington and proceeded to Omere, where they saw an European vessel lying off Raukawa, in Cook Strait. Tamati Waka Nene, immediately on perceiving the ship, shouted out to Te Rauparaha, “Oh, Raha, do you see that people sailing on the sea? They are a very good people, and if you conquer this land and hold intercourse with them you will obtain guns and powder, and become very great.” Te Rauparaha apparently wanted but this extra incentive to induce him to take permanent possession of the country between Wellington and Patea, and at once determined to remove thither with his tribe, as soon as he could make such arrangements as would secure him in the possession of his intended conquest. The taua returned along the coast line as they had first come, killing or making prisoners of such of the inhabitants as they could find as far as Patea. It was during the return of this war party that Rangihaieta took prisoner a woman named Pikinga, the sister of Arapata Hiria, a Ngatiapa chief of high rank, and whom he afterwards made his slave wife, a circumstance much and absurdly insisted upon in favour of the Ngatiapa title during the investigations of the Native Lands Court into the Manawatu case. Laden with spoil, and accompanied by numerous slaves, the successful warriors reached Kawhia, where Tamati Waka Nene and Patuone, with their party, left Te Rauparaha in order to return to their own country at Hokianga.

As I have before mentioned, Te Rauparaha had, during the progress of this raid upon the South, conceived the idea of leaving the ancient possessions of his tribe at Kawhia for the purpose of settling at Kapiti and upon the country on the main land in its vicinity; and accordingly, after the period of festivity and rest usually indulged in by a returned taua, he began to take the necessary steps, not only to induce his own people to accept his resolution, but to enlist the sympathies and assistance of his relatives at Maungatautari and elsewhere. During a visit which he paid for this purpose to the Ngatiraukawa, he found their great chief Hape Tuarangi in a dying state, and the circumstances which then occurred contributed greatly to the ultimate success of his designs. It appears that, notwithstanding the respect in which the offspring of the Maori aristocracy are usually held by their own people, and the influence they generally exercise in matters affecting the tribe, it is not unusual for the natural ariki of a tribe, or chief of a hapu, to be, in some

respects, supplanted by an inferior chief, unless the hereditary power of the former happens to be accompanied by intellect and bravery; and such an occurrence took place in regard to the natural hereditary ariki of the Ngatiraukawa at the death of Hape. Te Rauparaha himself, though by virtue of common descent, and by marriage ties, entitled to be treated as a chief of Ngatiraukawa, was not considered to be of high rank, on the grounds that, in the first place, he was the offspring of a junior branch of the ariki family of Tainui; and, in the next place, that the influence primarily due to his birth had been weakened by the intermarriage of his progenitors with minor chiefs and with women of other tribes. But when Hape, on his death bed, the whole tribe being assembled, asked “if his successor could tread in his steps and lead his people on to victory, and so keep up the honour of his tribe,” not one of his sons, to whom, in succession, the question was put, gave any reply. After a long period of silence, Te Rauparaha, who was amongst the minor chiefs and people, sitting at a distance from the dying man and from the chiefs of high rank by whom he was surrounded, got up and said, “I am able to tread in your steps, and even do that which you could not do.” Hape soon after expired, and as Te Rauparaha had been the only speaker in answer to his question, the whole tribe acknowledged him as their leader, a position which he occupied to his dying day. But even in this position his authority was limited, for though in his powers of mind, and as a leader of a war party, he was admittedly unsurpassed, either by Te Waharoa or by the great Ngapuhi chief, E Hongi, and therefore fully entitled to occupy a commanding position in the tribe, the mana which he acquired on the occasion in question extended only to the exercise of a species of protecting power and counsel whenever these were required, whilst the general direction of the affairs of the tribe still remained vested in their own hereditary chiefs. The influence he had obtained, however, materially aided him in ultimately inducing a large number of the tribe to join him in the conquest and settlement of the territory of the Ngatiapa, Rangitane, and Muaupoko, as will be shown in the sequel. It may seem strange that a people occupying the fertile slopes of the Maungatautari and the beautiful tract of country stretching along the Waikato to Rangiaowhia and Otawhao, could have been induced to abandon such a country in order to join in the conquest and settlement of a distant, and not more fertile, territory; but it must be remembered that, at the time in question, the whole Maori people were engrossed by one absorbing desire—that of acquiring fire-arms—and the inland position of the Ngatiraukawa, and their known wealth in much that the natives then considered valuable, invited attack, whilst the former circumstance prevented them acquiring to any extent the much coveted European weapons. It is true, that through their relatives at Rotorua they succeeded, from time to time, in obtaining some

statesman, gave him an influence in the councils of Ngatiawa and Ngatimata, which was of much value and importance to him, in the furtherance of his immediate projects, whilst they ultimately led to his example being followed by those tribes, after the severe losses inflicted upon them by Te Wherowhero and the Waikatos at Puke-rangiora. It appears, indeed, that long before this blow fell upon them, Te Rauparaha had pointed out the danger to which they would be exposed at the hands of the Waikato chief, when he and his people no longer stood between them and the latter, but the united Ngatiawa and Ngatitama were at that time a very powerful tribe, their ancient mana as warriors extending through the length and breadth of the land, and they ridiculed the possibility of serious defeat or disaster befalling them, and even urged Te Rauparaha himself to abandon his design, as unnecessary, and as being incompatible with the honour of his tribe. But the sagacious chief of the Ngatitoa had seen the change produced in the relative positions of the Ngapuhi and Ngatiwhatua, on the one side, and of Ngatimaru and other Thames people on the other, owing to the opportunities possessed by the former of acquiring, in abundance, the powerful European weapons, and he had early appreciated the fact, that in all future contests in New Zealand, the party which could only bring the wooden spear and battle-axe into the field, against the musket and the bayonet, must eventually be destroyed. On this point, very decisive testimony is given by Major Cruise, of the 84th Regiment, in his account of his residence in New Zealand in 1819 and 1820. He mentions that, on the arrival of the “Dromedary” store ship at the Bay of Islands, for the purpose of taking in a cargo of kauri spars, they found the people of the Bay daily expecting the return of a numerous war party, which had started some months previously for the purpose of attacking the natives at the River Thames. Shortly afterwards, in effect, this party arrived at the head of the bay, and he and some of the other officers of the “Dromedary,” went to meet it. The returned party occupied a fleet of about fifty canoes, many of them seventy or eighty feet long, and few less than sixty; all of them were filled with warriors, who stood up and shouted as they passed the European boat, holding up numbers of human heads as trophies of their success. The barter of powder and muskets, he says, carried on by the whalers, had already distributed some hundred stand of arms amongst the inhabitants of the Bay, and as the natives at the Thames were unprovided with similar weapons, they made little opposition to their more powerful invaders, who, in that instance, told him that they had killed 200, whilst they returned with the loss of only four men. Tui, one of the principal chiefs of the Bay, in a conversation with Major Cruise on this occasion, made one continued boast of the atrocities he had committed during an excursion to the same place about two months before, and dwelt with marked pleasure upon

an instance of his generalship, when, having forced a small party of his enemies into a narrow place, whence there was no egress, he was enabled, successively to shoot twenty-two of them, without their having the power of making the slightest resistance. Now, such facts as these were well known to Te Rauparaha, and satisfied him that the utmost valour, backed even by very superior numbers, must be of no avail against a weapon of so deadly a character as the musket, when wielded by so daring and bloodthirsty a people as the New Zealanders. He, therefore, never wavered in his design, and from the time when Tamaki Waka Nene pointed out the ship sailing in Cook Strait, until his actual departure from Kawhia at the head of his people, his mind and his energies were constantly engaged in devising the means of carrying it to a successful issue. It was not, however, until upwards of two years after the return of the war party, mentioned in the last chapter, that the necessary arrangements for the migration were completed, and during this interval he frequently visited the Ngatiraukawa, at Maungatautari, for the purpose of urging them to join him, whilst he also held constant intercourse with the chiefs of Ngatitama and Ngatiawa, in regard to the assistance his people would require from them, whilst passing through their territory. I must caution my readers from inferring from the relationship and general friendliness which existed between the Ngatitoa and the Ngatiawa, that either of these tribes would have felt much delicacy or compunction in destroying the other. At the period in question, more, perhaps, than during any other in the history of the race, moral considerations had but little weight in determining the conduct either of the individual or of the tribe. The ruthless wars which were then being prosecuted all over the North were rousing, to the highest pitch, the savage instincts of the race, and even the nearest relatives did not hesitate in destroying and devouring each other. Of this utter abandonment of all moral restraint many frightful instances might be quoted, but the fact is too well known to those who are acquainted with the history of the New Zealanders during the thirty years preceding the colonization of the Islands by the Europeans to require demonstration here.

But however essential to the success of the enterprise were the friendship and co-operation of Ngatiawa, it was no less necessary that Te Rauparaha should be enabled to effect his object without danger of molestation from his old enemies, the Waikatos, who would naturally be disposed to take advantage of any favourable circumstance, in connection with the event in question, in order to wreak their vengeance upon a foe from whom they had received many disastrous blows. In the last chapter, I mentioned that the Ngatimaniapoto, then occupying the country extending along the coast to the northward of Kawhia, were connected by common descent, as well as by intermarriages, with the Ngatitoa; and I may now add that, although

occasional disputes took place between these two tribes, they had always lived on terms of friendship, and usually made common cause against an enemy. But the Ngatimaniapoto were also, in a considerable degree, connected with the Waikato tribes, under the leadership of Te Wherowhero; and Rauparaha, determined to make use of this double connection in order to establish a firm peace between himself and the great Waikato chief before he commenced his movements towards the south. Through the influence of Kukutai and Te Kanawa, with both of whom Te Rauparaha was on good terms, he succeeded, very soon after his return from the expedition under Waka and himself, in inducing Te Wherowhero to agree to a cessation of hostilities, whilst he also informed them of his intention to leave Kawhia, with his people, and promised to cede it to Te Wherowhero on his departure. The easy acquisition of so valuable a territory was naturally looked upon by this chief as a matter of great moment to his people, besides the even more important circumstance attaching to it, namely, that the removal of a powerful enemy would enable him to concentrate his forces along his eastern frontier, so as to keep in check the increasing power of Te Wahoroa, whom he dreaded, notwithstanding that an alliance then existed between them. The proposed peace was accordingly made, and Te Rauparaha and his people being thus as secure as could be expected against attack on the part of the Waikatos, and having made satisfactory arrangements with Ngatitama and Ngatiawa for their passage through the territory of the latter, proceeded to make final preparations for departure. The principal point in this respect was the necessity of providing for a supply of food during the journey, which must obviously be a slow one on account of the aged, and of the women and children, whilst the distance was too great to be accomplished within a single season, and it was essential, therefore, to establish resting places where cultivations could be carried on in order to provide for the continuation of the march in the ensuing year. In the next place, Te Rauparaha knew that he could not conceal his intentions from the tribes whom he was about to invade; and that, although their power had been greatly shaken during the previous raid, he could scarcely hope to occupy their territory without further resistance. It was, therefore, necessary to provide for the contingencies which the possibility of such resistance naturally involved, and this could only be done by a careful management and disposition of the forces under his command, and by securing the co-operation of some of his more immediate relatives and allies. Testing his foresight in all these matters by the ultimate success of his enterprise, we are entitled to believe that the arrangements he made were well calculated to ensure the safe accomplishment of his design; and we know, at all events, that during the interval which took place between the peace with Te Wherowhero and the actual departure of himself and his people from Kawhia, Te Rauparaha took

care to provide for such supplies of food as would carry them through the first stage of their intended journey, whilst he also determined in detail the principal arrangements for the entire march. These preparations having all been satisfactorily completed by the beginning of the year 1819, he visited Waikato, for the last time, in order to bid farewell to Kukutai, to Pehikorehu, to Wherowhero, to Te Kanawa, and to all the chiefs of Waikato, saying to them, “Farewell; remain on our land at Kawhia; I am going to take Kapiti for myself, do not follow me.” He then returned to Kawhia, where he at once assembled his tribe and started for the South, the number leaving Kawhia itself, including persons of all ages, being about 400, of whom 170 were tried fighting men. On the morning of the day of their departure, he and his people came out of their pa at Te Arawi, having previously burned the carved house named Te Urungu-Paraoa-a-te-Titi-Matama. They then ascended the hill at Moeatoa, and looking back to Kawhia were very sad at leaving the home of their fathers. They cried over it, and bade it farewell, saying, “Kawhia remain here! The people of Kawhia are going to Kapiti, to Waipounamu.”

Savage, even ruthless, as those people may have been, we can still understand their sorrow at leaving their ancestral possessions. “The love of the New Zealander for his land is not,” says Mr. White (from whom I have before quoted on this point), “the love of a child for his toys. His title is connected with many and powerful associations in his mind; his love for the homes of his fathers being connected with the deeds of their bravery, with the feats of his own boyhood, and the long rest of his ancestors for generations.” Every nook and inlet of the beautiful harbour of Kawhia was endeared to the departing people, not only by its picturesque beauty, which the New Zealander fully appreciates, but also by its association with the most ancient traditions of the tribe. Every hill, every valley, was connected, in their memory, with scenes of childish joy, whilst many of the singular and gloomy caverns in which the district abounds, were crowded with the remains of their ancestors, and were the subjects of their reverence and awe; and from these circumstances, not less than from the uncertainty which necessarily hung over the future of the tribe, we may estimate the strength of their faith in the sagacity of the chief who had induced them to embark in so remarkable a project.

The march was at length commenced, and at the end of the third or fourth day the people arrived at the Pa of Puohoki, where Te Rauparaha determined on leaving, under a sufficient guard, a number of the women (including his own wife, Akau) who, by reason of pregnancy, was unfit for travel. The remainder of the tribe continued their journey, and settled for the season at Waitara, Kaweka, and Taranaki, living in the pas of the Ngatiawa and

Ngatitama. Shortly after this, Te Rauparaha determined to return to Te Puohu's pa, in order to bring up the women who had been left behind, and selected twenty of his warriors to accompany him. His tribe were unwilling that he should undertake this expedition with so small a number of men, urging him to go in force in order to prevent the risk of any treacherous attack upon his party. Te Rauparaha, however, insisted on limiting his followers to the twenty men he had chosen, and started on his journey. On crossing the Mokau River, he found the body of Rangihaieta's only child, who had been drowned from Topiora's canoe, as she and part of the tribe came down the coast during the general migration. It was in order to commemorate this circumstance, that the name Mokau, as a nickname, was assumed by Te Rangihaieta. Te Rauparaha wrapped the body of the child in his clothing, and carried it with him to Puohu's pa, where it was interred with due solemnity. On his arrival, he found the women and the people he had left all safe, and at once made arrangements for removing them to Waitara. In the meantime his wife, Akau, had given birth to Tamihana, who is now living at Otaki. On the third day after his arrival the party left the pa, Te Rauparaha carrying his infant child on his back in a basket. Just before reaching Mokau, it being dusk, they were threatened by a considerable war party of Ngatimaniapoto, who had crept down the coast after the evacuation of Kawhia and the surrounding district, and Rauparaha had strong reason to fear that he and his people would be attacked and cut off. By a clever stratagem, however, he imposed upon the enemy, for, after clothing twenty of the women in men's mats, and placing feathers in their hair, and arming them with war clubs, he sent them forward under the charge of his wife, Akau, a woman of commanding stature, and who, on this occasion, wore a red mat named Hukeumu, and brandished her weapon and otherwise acted as if she were a redoubtable warrior, whilst Te Rauparaha himself covered the retreat with the men, the remainder of the party marching between these two bodies.

The Ngatimaniapoto, mistaking the strength of Te Rauparaha's force, commenced a retreat, but were attacked by him, and five of their number killed, amongst whom was Tutakara, their leader, who was slain by Rangihoungariri, a young relative of Te Rauparaha's, already renowned as a warrior. The party then continued their march and reached the Mokau River at dark, but were unable to cross it in consequence of its being swollen by rain and the tide being high. Rauparaha knew that the danger was not over, and that the Ngatimaniapoto would, under cover of night, attempt to take revenge for their loss. He therefore ordered twelve large fires to be made, at some distance from each other, and three of the women of the party, still disguised as men, to be placed at each fire, to which he also assigned one of his warriors, whilst he, with the remainder, acted as scouts. The men near

the fires were to keep watch during the night, and occasionally to address the others, saying, “Be strong, oh people, to fight on the morrow if the enemy return. Do not consider life. Consider the valour of your tribe.” Besides this, the women were directed to make much noise with their speeches, so that Haiki even might hear their voices. This further stratagem appears completely to have deceived Ngatimaniapoto, who did not attempt to molest them any further. During the night, however, a peculiar incident, illustrative of Maori life, occurred, which might have been productive of disaster but for the course taken by Te Rauparaha. Amongst the women who were with the party was Tangahoe, the wife of a chief, who had an infant with her. This child in its restlessness began to cry, and Te Rauparaha, fearing that his stratagem would be betrayed by the cries of the child, told its mother to choke it, saying “I am that child.” The parents at once obeyed the command, and killed the child. Towards midnight the river fell considerably, and at low tide the party left their fires and crossed it, continuing their march until they reached a pa of the Ngatitama, greatly rejoicing at their escape. Early on the following morning Rauparaha's party, with a reinforcement of Ngatitama and Ngatiawa, returned to the spot where the fight of the previous afternoon had taken place, and secured the bodies of Tutakara and the others who had been killed. These were taken to Mokau, where they were cut up and eaten, amidst great rejoicings on the part of Ngatiawa and Ngatitama at the chance thus afforded them of paying off some old grudge which they had against Ngatimaniapoto. The success of the stratagems employed by Te Rauparaha on this occasion, added greatly to his renown as a warrior, and, moreover, invested him with an attribute of almost sanctity, not only in the eyes of his own tribe, but also in those of his allies. Te Rauparaha then joined the main body of his people, who were engaged in the necessary preparations for the resumption of their migration.

Shortly after this, it would appear that Te Wherowhero and Te Waharoa, deeming the opportunity a good one for striking a deadly blow against Rauparaha, had collected a large force at the head of the Waiapa, with which they marched upon Taranaki, intending to attack the Ngatitoa at Motunui, before the latter could obtain any material assistance from Ngatiawa or Ngatitama, the main body of whom were chiefly stationed at Te Kawaka, Urenui, and other places. The plans of the Waikato leaders were so carefully laid in this respect, that Rauparaha received no intimation of their advance until they were close upon him, but he at once sent intelligence to Kaiaia, the leading chief of the Ngatitama, since better known by the name of Ta Ringa Kuri, with instructions to join him at Motunui. However, before Kaiaia could come to his assistance he assembled his own forces, including a small body of Ngatiawa; and, having a better knowledge of the country

than the enemy, he fell upon them suddenly, his forces attacking in a compact body. After encountering an obstinate resistance, he succeeded in completely routing them with a loss of nearly 150 men, including the principal chiefs Hiakai and Mama, whilst many other chiefs, and a large number of inferior people, were taken prisoners. The latter were hung, and their bodies, as well as those of the men who had fallen in the battle, were duly devoured, with all the ceremonies attendant upon such a feast after a great and successful battle. Te Wherowhero and Waharoa were the only great chiefs of note who escaped on this occasion, the slaughter of leaders having been peculiarly heavy, and even they owed their lives to the connivance of Rauparaha, who, apparently for reasons of his own of which I am not informed, but possibly to avoid driving them to desperation, did not care to attack them on the following day. It is said, whether truly or not I cannot decide, that Te Waharoa did not exhibit his usual bravery on this occasion, but had fled early in the day. It appears, too, that had Kaiaia's portion of the Ngatitama arrived in time to take part in the battle, the whole of the Waikato force would have been destroyed. Be this as it may, during the night after the battle Te Wherowhero approached the camp of the Ngatitoa, and cried out to Te Rauparaha, Oh, Raha, how am I and my people to be saved?” Te Rauparaha replied, “You must run away this night. Do not remain. Go, make haste.” Te Wherowhero and his men fled during the night, leaving their fires burning; and when Kaiaia's forces came up on the next morning they found the Waikato camp deserted, whilst the bodies of many of those who had been wounded in the previous day's engagement, and had died during the night, were left behind. These bodies were at once cut up and devoured by Ngatitama, Te Rauparaha and his people joining in the feast.

After all danger of further attack on the part of Waikato had ceased, Te Rauparaha determined, before resuming the movement southward, again to visit his friends at Maungatautari, in order to induce the latter, if possible, to join him in the expedition. For this purpose he travelled to Taupo taking the road from Taranaki by the Upper Wanganui and Tuhua. At Tuhua he had a long conference with Te Heuheu, who promised to afford him any assistance he could in effecting his settlement at Kapiti and on the main land, but would not consent to take any other part in the undertaking. He then proceeded to Opepe, on Lake Taupo, where a large number of the Ngatiraukawa had assembled, under Whatanui, in order to discuss Te Rauparaha's proposals. Here a great tangi was held, at which Whatanui made a speech to Rauparaha, and gave him many presents, as they had not met for a length of time. After the ordinary ceremonies were concluded, Te Rauparaha again opened his proposals to the assembled chiefs, representing

the many advantages that would accrue from adopting them, and particularly insisting on the opportunity it would give the tribe of obtaining abundant supplies of fire-arms, as Kapiti and other parts of Cook Strait had already begun to be visited by European ships. He also dwelt on the rich and productive character of the land, and the ease with which it might be conquered, whilst there was nothing to prevent, at the same time, a large number of the tribe from remaining at Maungatautari, in order to retain their ancient possessions there. To all this, however, Whatanui gave no reply, and the meeting broke up without any indication that any part of the tribe would join in the proposed expedition. Te Rauparaha then visited other sections of the tribe, and another great meeting took place, at which he was not present. At this meeting the chief objection raised was, that by joining Te Rauparaha he would become their chief, and there was an unwillingness on the part of the tribe, notwithstanding what had occurred at the death of Hape, entirely to throw off their allegiance to their own hereditary arikis. This resolution was communicated to Te Rauparaha by Horohau, one of the sons of Hape, by Akau, then Rauparaha's wife, and the reasons specially assigned for it grieved Te Rauparaha very much. Seeing the apparent impossibility of inducing Whatanui's people to join him in his project, he went on to Roturoa, and ultimately to Tauranga, where he urged Te Waru to join him. Te Waru, however, refused to leave Tauranga on account of his love for that place, and for the Islands of Motiti and Tuhua. Whilst Te Rauparaha was at Tauranga, news reached that place that Hongi Heke, with the Ngapuhi, was besieging the great pa of the Ngatimaru at the Thames, which, after some delay, they took, as mentioned in a former chapter, slaughtering great numbers of the inhabitants. Amongst others of the killed on this occasion, were the infant children of Tokoahu, who had married a grand-niece of Rauparaha's. He appears to have been greatly exasperated at the absurd manner in which the people of this pa had permitted it to be taken, and at the destruction of his relatives, and at once went over to Roturoa, whither another taua of the Ngapuhi, under Pomare, had proceeded after the defeat of the Ngatimaru. Here he had an interview with Pomare, and expressed his determination to kill some of the Ngapuhi as a payment for the slaughter of Tokoahu's children, to which Pomare consented, he being also in some degree connected by marriage with Tokoahu. The Ngapuhis, accompanied by Te Rauparaha, proceeded to Paeoterangi, where Tuhourangi and some others were duly sacrificed, with great solemnity, in order to appease the manes of Tokoahu's children. Pomare then gave over to Rauparaha a number of men who had been under the leadership of Tuhourangi, who, from that time, became attached to and incorporated with Ngatitoa, and accompanied him on his return to Taranaki shortly after the sacrifice in question. On reaching Taranaki, he made

preparations for continuing the migration, and succeeded in inducing Wi Kingi Rangitake, since celebrated in connection with the Waitara war, and his father, Reretawhangawhanga, with many other chiefs, and a considerable number of the Ngatiawa tribe, to accompany him, his followers then consisting of his own people (the Ngatitoa), numbering 200 fighting men, of the Ngapuhis who had been transferred to him by Pomare, and of Wi Kingi's Ngatiawas, numbering nearly 400 fighting men, and their several families. During the interval between the commencement of the migration and its resumption from Taranaki, after Te Rauparaha's last return thither, a large war party of Waikatos, under Tukorehu, Te Kepa, Te Kawau (Apihai), and other chiefs, had descended the East Coast, from whence they invaded the territory which Te Rauparaha was about to seize. The Muaupoko, Rangitane, and Ngatiapa, were all attacked on this occasion, and again suffered great loss, a circumstance which became known to Te Rauparaha through some Ngatiraukawa men who had joined the Waikatos in their expedition, and had communicated its results to him during his last visit to Maungatautari. It appears, moreover, that after he had left Taupo, Whatanui and a large party of Ngatiraukawa made up their minds to join him at Kapiti, but instead of following the same route which he intended to take, they determined to proceed via Ahuriri, having been invited thither by the Ngatikahungunu, for some purpose which I cannot clearly make out. On their arrival there, however, a dispute took place between the two parties, and a battle ensued, in which the Ngatiraukawa were defeated with considerable slaughter, the remainder of the party being forced to retreat upon Maungatautari. Late in the autumn of 1819, no doubt after the ordinary crop of kumera had been gathered in, Te Rauparaha resumed the march, which was uninterrupted until they reached Patea, where five of the Ngatitoa men, and a male slave of Topiora's named Te Ratutonu, who had formerly been a chief, were murdered. To avenge this murder, Rauparaha killed a number of the people occupying Waitotara, and thence his party proceeded to Wanganui, the greater portion of the women and children travelling along the coast in canoes, whilst the warriors, with most of the leading chiefs, travelled by land, Rauparaha himself, however, travelling by water in a large canoe taken from the Waitotara people. I may here incidentally mention that his designs, at this time, were not confined to the acquisition of Kapiti, and the adjacent country; he had also made up his mind to invade the Middle Island after he had become well settled in his new abode, in order to obtain the great treasures of green-stone which were believed to be in possession of the people of that island. Of course, he could only hope to effect this by obtaining a number of large canoes, and, to use the words of his son, “canoes were at that time his great desire, for by them only could he cross over to the Island of Waipounamu.” Amongst the

leading chiefs who accompanied Rauparaha, was Rangihaieta, who, as will be remembered, had, during the previous invasion, taken prisoner a Ngatiapa woman of rank named Pikinga, whom he had made his slave-wife. When her brothers heard of the arrival of Ngatitoa at Wanganui, they, with a party numbering altogether twenty men, came to meet her, and accompanied Ngatitoa as far as the Rangitikei river, for, as the weather continued extremely fine, Te Rauparaha thought it desirable to push the advance as rapidly as possible. On arriving at the mouth of the Rangitikei the people rested for some days, those in the canoes landing for that purpose. During this rest, armed parties were sent inland, in various directions, for the purpose of capturing any stray people whom they could find, in order that they might be killed and eaten; but these parties found the country nearly deserted, the remnant of the original tribes having taken refuge in the fastnesses of the interior. Te Rauparaha then pushed on to the mouth of the Manawatu, where he and his people again halted, parties here, also, going inland in search of Rangitane, with the same intentions with which they had previously sought the Ngatiapa, and with very much the same result. Their next stage was Ohau, where Ngatitoa settled until after they had taken Kapiti, as will be mentioned in the sequel. During this time the Muaupoko occupied the country inland of Ohau and stretching to the Manawatu River, having a pa on Lake Horowhenua, and on the banks of Lake Papaitanga, which is close to it. Shortly after Rauparaha had settled at Ohau two of the chiefs of Muaupoko visited him, and offered, if he would come over to their pa at Papaitanga, to make him a present of several large canoes. He was extremely delighted at this offer, and at once consented to go. Rangihaieta, however, endeavoured to dissuade him, saying, “Raha, I have had a presentiment that you will be murdered by Muaupoko,” but Rauparaha laughed at his fears; and, attracted by the prospect of obtaining the canoes—which had been glowingly described to him by the two chiefs—would not listen to any suggestions against the proposed visit. He even refused to take any large force with him, confining himself to a few men, and to some of his own children. It appears, however, that a plot had been laid between Turoa and Paetahi (father of Mete Kingi, lately one of the Maori members of the Assembly), chiefs of the Wanganui tribes, and the leading chiefs of the Muaupoko, to murder Te Rauparaha, and the invitation to Papaitanga, with the offer of the canoes, were only steps in the plot for that purpose. It is quite clear that he apprehended no danger, and that he fell into the trap laid for him with wonderful facility. It was evening when he and his companions arrived at the pa, where they were received by Toheriri, at whose house Rauparaha was to sleep. His people were all accommodated in different parts of the pa, Rauparaha alone remaining with Toheriri. The

treacherous act on his part, committed for the express purpose of involving Te Pehi, and a number of other members of the tribe, in destruction; but it is difficult to suppose that Rauparaha could have maintained his high position if this charge, and others of a similar nature, were in any degree well founded. My own impression is that the whole affair was planned for the express purpose of throwing the defenders of Kapiti off their guard, and so of securing a conquest which had already been several times attempted in vain, but which he felt to be absolutely necessary for the success of his ultimate designs. It appears that one day he started with a large force of Ngatitoa and Ngatiawa for Horowhenua, for the avowed purpose of harrassing the remnant of Muaupoko and Rangitane who still wandered about that district, and that before dawn of the morning after his departure (which had been made known on the previous day to the people on the Island through their own spies), Te Pehi, and his own immediate followers, crossed the Strait and attacked them. Thrown off their guard by the knowledge of Rauparaha's absence with the bulk of the warriors, they had neglected their ordinary precautions against surprise, and were easily defeated, many being slain, although the greater number escaped in their canoes to the main land, and found refuge in the forests and swamps of the Manawatu. On the return of Rauparaha's war party, he at once passed over to Kapiti, where he usually resided from that time until his death. Shortly after the taking of Kapiti, Wi Kingi and the great body of the Ngatiawa returned to the Waitara, only twenty warriors remaining with the Ngatitoa. Thus weakened, they were ultimately compelled, by events which I am about to relate, to abandon their settlements on the main land, and to remove to Kapiti, where they formed and occupied three large pas, one named Wharekohu, at the southern end of the Island; another named Rangatira, near the northern end; and one named Taepiro, between the other two, Te Rauparaha and Rangihaieta, with the main body of the people, residing in the latter. Before relating the events which took place after the departure of the Ngatiawa, it is necessary that I should call attention to many affairs of importance which occurred between that event and the first settlement of the Ngatitoa at Ohau. It will be remembered that at the close of the last chapter I mentioned the attempt made by the Muaupoko to murder Rauparaha, near Lake Papaitanga, and the determination of himself and his tribe to lose no opportunity of taking vengeance for the slaughter which had taken place on that occasion. At the time of this occurrence, the Muaupoko were still numerous and comparatively powerful, having suffered much less during the previous incursions of the Ngapuhi and Waikatos, than the neighbouring tribes; but they were, nevertheless, no match for the better armed and more warlike Ngatitoa, and therefore rarely met them in the open field, relying for security rather upon the inaccessibility

of their fortresses and upon their intimate knowledge of the fastnesses of the Manawatu district, than upon their prowess in the field. They then occupied a number of pas in the country around Lakes Papaitanga and Horowhenua, as well as several which they had erected upon artificial islands in the latter lake, in the manner so interestingly described by the Reverend Mr. Taylor, in a paper recently read before this Society. Now, it appears, that in pursuance of his intention to destroy these people, Rauparaha constantly detailed war parties to attack them, as well as to harrass the unfortunate remnant of the Rangitane who still lurked in the country to the northward of their territory.

Finding themselves unable to check these attacks, the Muaupoko took refuge in the Lake Pas, which the Ngatitoa however, determined to attack. Their first attempt was on that named Waipata, and, having no canoes, they swam out to it, and succeeded in taking it, slaughtering many of the defenders, though the greater number escaped in their canoes to a larger pa on the same lake, named Wai-kie-kie. This pa was occupied in such force by the enemy, that the party which had taken Waipata felt themselves too weak to assault it, and, therefore, returned to Ohau for reinforcements. Having obtained the requisite assistance, they again proceeded to Horowhenua, and attacked Wai-kie-kie, using a number of canoes, which they had taken at Waipata, for the purpose of crossing the lake. After a desperate, but vain resistance, they took the pa, slaughtering nearly 200 of the inhabitants, including women and children, the remainder escaping in their canoes, and making their way, by inland paths, in the direction of Paikakariki, where they ultimately settled. In the course of these several attacks, a number of the leading Muaupoko chiefs were taken prisoners, all of whom, except Ratu, who became the slave of Te Pehi, were killed, and their bodies, as well as those of the people slain in the assaults, duly devoured. It is matter of note that, notwithstanding the occasional murder of men of the Ngatiapa who happened to be found on the south side of the Rangitikei River by the Ngatitoa and Ngatiawa war parties, Rauparaha had, up to this time, preserved friendly relations with that tribe, some of whom occasionally fought in his ranks; this was chiefly owing to the connection of Rangihaieta with Pikinga, but events which occurred shortly after the expulsion of the Muaupoko from the Horowhenua country, led to a rupture of this friendship and to the ultimate complete subjugation of the Ngatiapa. It was after the defeat of the former at Wai-kie-kie that the Ngatiawa returned to Waitara, but although, as I have before observed, their departure greatly weakened Rauparaha, he and his people still maintained their settlements on the main land, and continued their raids against the remnants of the defeated tribes. Amongst the expeditions thus undertaken one, in which a larger force than usual was

engaged, was directed against a pa at Paikakariki, occupied by the Muaupoko who had fled from Waikiekie, which was taken after an obstinate struggle, in which many of the occupants were slain, the conquerors remaining in possession for nearly two months for the purpose of consuming their bodies and the stores of provisions they found in the pa. They were there suddenly attacked by the Ngatikahungunu from Wanganuiatera and the surrounding country, and driven upon Waikanae with considerable loss. This event, coupled with the threatening attitude assumed by that powerful tribe, and the fact that the remnants of the Muaupoko, Rangitane, and Ngatiapa, were again collecting in the vicinity of their former settlements, determined Rauparaha to abandon the main land, and to withdraw the whole of his people to Kapiti until he could obtain the assistance (which he still confidently expected) of his kindred at Taupo and Maungatautari. He had no sooner retired to Kapiti, than the Rangitane erected a large pa at Hotuiti, on the north side of the Manawatu, within the tract now known as the Awahou Block, where they collected in force, and were joined by three Ngatiapa chiefs of note. Rauparaha hearing of this, determined to attack them, and he and Rangihaeata marched to Hotuiti with a well appointed taua, accompanied by Pikinga, who, on the arrival of the party before the pa, was sent into it to direct the Ngatiapa chiefs to retire to the district occupied by that tribe on the north side of the Rangitikei river. This they declined to do, and Rauparaha then sent messengers to the Rangitane, offering peace, and desiring that their chiefs should be sent to his camp to settle the terms. Being advised by the Ngatiapa chiefs to accept the offer, they sent their own head men to Rauparaha's quarters, where they were at once ruthlessly slain, and whilst the people in the pa, ignorant of this slaughter, and believing that hostilities were suspended, were entirely off their guard, it was rushed by the Ngatitoa, and taken after a very feeble resistance, the greater number of the unfortunate people and their families, as well as the three Ngatiapa chiefs, being slaughtered and devoured, such prisoners as were taken being removed to Waikanae in order to undergo the same fate. After this treacherous affair, Rauparaha and his force returned to Waikanae, where they indulged in feasting and rejoicing, little dreaming that any attempt would be made to attack them. It appears, however, that the Ngatiapa at Rangitikei, incensed at the slaughter of their three chiefs, determined to revenge their loss, and for this purpose had collected a considerable war party, which was readily joined by the refugees from Hotuiti and by a number of Muaupoko from Horowhenua. Led by Te Hakeke, they fell upon the Ngatitoa at Waikanae during the night, killing upwards of sixty of them, including many women and children, amongst the latter being the four daughters of Te Pehi. At the commencement of the attack, a canoe was despatched to Kapiti for reinforcements, which were at once sent, and

upon their arrival the enemy fled, but without being pursued. In consequence of this attack, Rauparaha and Rangihaeata became (to use the words of Matene Te Whiwhi) “dark in their hearts in regard to Ngatiapa,” and resolved to spare no efforts to destroy them, as well as the remnants of Rangitane and Muaupoko.

Rauparaha had, of course, become aware of the defeat of Whatanui and the Ngatiraukawa in their attempt to reach Kapiti by the East Coast, but immediately after the departure of the Ngatiawa he had sent emissaries to Taupo, in order again to urge upon the chiefs to join him in the occupation of the country he had conquered. In the meantime, however, a storm was brewing which threatened utterly to destroy him and his people. Ratu, the Muaupoko chief who had been enslaved by Te Pehi, escaped from Kapiti and fled to the Middle Island. Being anxious to avenge the destruction of his tribe, he proceeded to organize an alliance between the tribes occupying the southern shores of Cook Strait and those which held the country from Patea to Rangitikei, on the North, and the Ngatikahungunu at Wanganuiatera and Wairarapa, on the South, for the purpose of attacking Rauparaha with a force, which, in point of numbers, at least, should be irresistible. In the formation of the desired alliance he was completely successful, and about the end of the fourth year after the first arrival of the Ngatitoa, nearly 2,000 warriors assembled between Otaki and Waikanae, consisting of Ngarauru, from Waitotara; the people of Patea, Wanganui, Wangaehu, Turakina and Rangitikei, the Rangitane of Manawatu, and the Ngatikahungunu, Ngatiapa, Ngatitumatakokiri, Rangitane and Ngatihuia, from the Middle Island. They were provided with ample means of transport, “the sea on the occasion of of their attack,” to use the words of my informant, who was present on the occasion, “being covered with canoes, one wing reaching Kapiti from Otaki, whilst the other started almost simultaneously from Waikanae.” The landing of the warriors composing the right wing was effected about four in the morning, but the alarm having already been given by the chief Nopera, who had discovered and notified their approach, the invaders were at once attacked by the Ngatitoa, of Rangatira, with great fury, whilst messengers were at the same time despatched to Taepiri, where Rauparaha lay with the bulk of his people, to inform him of the invasion. Before he could reach the scene of the conflict, however, the enemy had succeeded in pushing the Ngatitoa towards Waiorua, at the northern end of the Island. Pokaitara, who was in command, being desirous of gaining time in order to admit of the arrival of reinforcements, proposed a truce to the enemy, which was granted by Rangimairehau, a Ngatiapa chief, by whom they were led, who hoped, on his side, during the truce, to be able to land the rest of his forces, and then effectually to crush the Ngatitoa. Shortly after the truce had been agreed to,

Rauparaha and his warriors reached the scene of action, and at once renewed the battle with the utmost vigour; and, after a long and sanguinary conflict, completely defeated the invaders, with tremendous slaughter; not less than 170 dead bodies being left on the beach, whilst numbers were drowned in attempting to reach the canoes that were still at sea. The remainder of the invading force made their way, with all speed, to Waikanae and other points of the coast, where many of them landed, abandoning their canoes to the Ngatitoa, who had commenced an immediate pursuit. After the battle Rauparaha composed and sang a “song of triumph,” the words of which I regret that I have not been able to obtain. The result was in every way advantageous to his people, for no further attempt was ever made to dislodge them, whilst they, on the other hand, lost no opportunity of strengthening their position and of wreaking vengeance on the Ngatiapa, Rangitane, and Muaupoko, the remnant of whom they ultimately reduced to the condition of the merest tributaries, many of the leading chiefs, including Te Hakeke, becoming slaves. It would be useless for me to give anything like a detailed account of the incursions of the Ngatitoa into the country on the main land, often extending as far as Turakina, in which numbers of the original inhabitants were killed and eaten, or reduced to slavery; but it is perfectly clear that their power was completely broken, and that after Waiorua, the Ngatitoa and their allies found no enemy capable of checking their movements. The news of the battle having reached Taranaki, with rumours of Rauparaha's astounding success, Te Puaha, with a detachment of Ngatiawa, came down to Kapiti in order to learn the truth of the matter, and having ascertained how completely Rauparaha had defeated his enemies, he returned to Taranaki for the purpose of bringing down a number of his people to join the Ngatitoa in their settlement of the country, as well as to take part in the prosecution of Rauparaha's further designs. Accordingly, he shortly afterwards brought with him, from Taranaki, a considerable number of fighting men, with their families, consisting partly of Ngatiawa proper, partly of Ngatihinetuhi, and partly of Ngatiwhakatere, being members of a hapu of Ngatiraukawa, who had escaped from a defeat on the Wanganui River, and had incorporated themselves with the Ngatiawa. This formed an important accession to the force under Rauparaha, which received further additions shortly afterwards from Te Ahu Karamu, a Ngatiraukawa chief of high rank, who, against the feeling of his people, had determined to join his great Ngatitoa kinsman. This chief, having heard from Rauparaha's emissaries of the difficulties in which he was likely to be placed by the defection of the Ngatiawa, had started from Taupo with 120 armed men, of his own immediate following, and arrived at Kapiti shortly after the battle of Waiorua, and then took part in many of the raids upon the original tribes which occurred after that event.

After remaining with Rauparaha for some months he returned to Taupo with part of his followers, where he reported the improved position of Ngatitoa, and urged his own section of the tribe to join them. Finding them still unwilling to do so, and being determined to effect his object, he ordered the whole of their houses and stores to be burned down, declaring it to be the will of the atua or spirit, angry at their refusal to obey the words of their chief. This being done the people gave way, and he took the necessary measures for the journey. In the meantime Whatanui and Te Heuheu had also determined to visit Rauparaha, in order to inspect the country he had conquered; the former chieftain intending, if it met his approval, to carry out his original design of joining the Ngatitoa in its occupation. In pursuance of this determination they, with a strong force of their own warriors, joined Te Ahu Karamu's party, the whole travelling down the Rangitikei River along the route followed by Te Ahu on his previous journey. During this journey they attacked and killed any of the original inhabitants whom they happened to fall in with. This migration is known amongst the Ngatiraukawa as the heke whirinui, owing to the fact that the whiri, or plaited collars of their mats, were made very large for the journey. Amongst the special events which occurred on the march was the capture of a Ngatiapa woman and two children, on the south side of the Rangitikei. The unfortunate children were sacrificed during the performance of a solemn religious rite; and the woman, though in the first instance saved by Te Heuheu, who wished to keep her as a slave, was killed and eaten by Tangaru, one of the Ngatiraukawa leaders. Shortly after this Ta Whiro, one of the greatest of the Ngatiapa chiefs, with two women, were taken prisoners, and the former was put to death with great ceremony and cruelty, as utu for the loss of some of Te Heuheu's people who had been killed by the Ngatiapa long before, but the women were spared. On the arrival of this heke at Kapiti, Te Heuheu and Whatanui held a long conference with the Ngatitoa chieftains, and Whatanui was at last persuaded to bring down his people. For this purpose he and Te Heuheu returned to Taupo, some of the party passing across the Manawatu Block, so as to strike the Rangitikei River inland, whilst the others travelled along the beach to the mouth of that river, intending to join the inland party some distance up. The inland party rested at Rangataua, where a female relative of Te Heuheu, named Reremai, famed for her extreme beauty, died of wounds inflicted upon her during the journey by a stray band of Ngatiapa. A great tangi was held over her remains, and Te Heuheu caused her head to be preserved, he himself calcining her brains and strewing the ashes over the land, which he declared to be for ever tapu. His people were joined by the party from the beach road at the junction of the Waituna with the Rangitikei, where the chief was presented with three Ngatiapa prisoners, who had been taken during the

ascent of the river. These were immediately sacrificed to the manes of Keremai, after which the whole body returned with all speed to Taupo. Before the return of Whatanui and his people to Kapiti, that place had been visited by some European whale ships, and Rauparaha at once traded with them for guns and ammunition, giving in exchange dressed flax and various kinds of fresh provisions, including potatoes. I may mention that until the arrival of the Ngatitoa the potato had been unknown in the Manawatu district, but at the time I now speak of it was extensively cultivated between that place and Taranaki, and formed one of the staple articles of food of the natives. He had no sooner obtained a supply of fire-arms and ammunition than he resolved to carry out his long-conceived intention of invading the Middle Island, a design in which he was greatly aided by the capture of the war canoes which had been abandoned by the allied forces after the battle of Waiorua; but, although he at once made preparations for carrying out his project, he postponed its actual execution until after the return of Whatanui. Shortly before the visit of the ships with which Rauparaha had carried on his trade, Te Pehi, observing one passing through Cook Strait, went out to her in a canoe, and, having managed to conceal himself until the canoe had left her, he succeeded ultimately in reaching England, his design being, like that of E Hongi, to obtain a supply of fire-arms and ammunition. His visit to England, where he was known under the name of Tupai Cupa, evidently a corruption of Te Pehi Kupe, is described in the volume for 1830 of “The Library of Entertaining Knowledge.” We are enabled by means of this incident to fix the dates of some of the principal events in Rauparaha's career, for we know that it was in 1826 that Te Pehi managed to secrete himself on board the vessel above referred to.

Rauparaha's immediate designs were in the meantime somewhat interfered with by a rupture between a section of his people and the Ngatitama, under Puaha, some fighting taking place, which resulted in loss to both sides; but he at once peremptorily ordered peace to be made, an order which was obeyed by both sides. It seems that this dispute arose out of the occupation of some of the conquered land, which was claimed by both parties, and Waitohi, a sister of Rauparaha, foreseeing that constant disputes were likely to arise from the same cause, more especially when their numbers were increased by the expected arrival of the main body of the Ngatiraukawa, unless there was some definite arrangement as to the division of the country between them, suggested to Rauparaha that the Ngatiawa should all remove to Waikanae, and should occupy the land to the south of the Kukutawaki stream, whilst the country from the north bank of that stream as far as the Wangaehu should be given up to the Ngatiraukawa. This suggestion was adopted by all parties, and it was determined that the Ngatiraukawa, already

with Rauparaha, should at once proceed to occupy Ohau, then in the possession of the Ngatiawa. Having been assembled for this purpose they were escorted to their new location by Rauparaha and all the principal chiefs of Ngatitoa, travelling along the beach. On their way up they were feasted by Ngatirahira (a hapu of Ngatiawa) upon the flesh of black-fish, a large school of which had been driven ashore at low water, where the natives ingeniously tethered them by their tails with strong flax ropes, killing them as they were wanted for food. The Ngatiraukawa having been put into quiet possession of the houses and cultivations of the Ngatiawa, the latter removed to Waikanae, which continued for some time afterwards to be their principal settlement. The wisdom of Waitohi's suggestion above referred to is apparent from the fact that no further land disputes occurred between the several tribes until the fighting at Horowhenua many years afterwards, as will be related in the sequel.

Between this event and the date of Whatanui's return to Kapiti with the main body of his people, a heke composed of 140 fighting men with their families—called the heke kariritahi, from the circumstance that the warriors armed with muskets, had enlarged the touch-holes so as to be enabled (shrewd fellows as they were) to keep up a more rapid fire upon an enemy by saving the trouble of priming—came down from Maungatautari under the command of Taratoa. Whatanui accompanied this heke for the purpose of conferring with Rauparaha on matters of importance, but finding that the chief was absent, he at once returned to Taupo in order to bring down his people. The constant arrival of these armed bodies, and the manner in which they roamed over the Manawatu and Rangitikei districts, treating the remnant of the Ngatiapa and other original tribes with the greatest rigour, induced the latter to throw themselves upon the hospitality of the Ngatikahungunu at Wairarapa. In pursuance of this resolve, some 300 of them, including women and children, proceeded thither, but in consequence of a murder, followed by an act of cannibalism, which had been committed by some of the Rangitane upon a Ngatikahungunu man not long before, that tribe not only refused to receive the refugees, but attacked and drove them back with slaughter. The Ngatiapa then formally placed themselves at the mercy of Rangihaeata, whose connection, so frequently alluded to, with a chief of their tribe induced him to treat them with leniency, and they were accordingly permitted to live in peace, but in a state of complete subjection. The remnant of the Muaupoko, in like manner, sought the protection of Tuauaine, a chief of the Ngatiawa, who agreed to defend them against the long standing wrath of Rauparaha, but, as it appears, in vain; for it seems that having been informed by some of the Ngatiraukawa that these people were again settling at Papaitangi and Horowhenua, Rauparaha and Rangihaeata, with a war party of Ngatitoa and

Ngatiraukawa, proceeded thither and attacked them, killing many and taking a number of others prisoners, amongst whom was Toheriri, their chief. Toheriri's wife composed a lament on the occasion of the death of her husband, which is still recited amongst the Maoris. In this song she reflected on the broken promise of Tuauaine, who, though very sad at this slaughter, was entirely unable to prevent it. I merely mention this incident here, in order to show that lapse of time had in no degree weakened the revengeful feelings of Rauparaha, and that he considered the manes of his murdered children insufficiently appeased by the slaughter of the hundreds whom he had already sacrificed.

In about a year after the visit of Whatanui with Te Heuheu the former returned to Kapiti with the main body of his tribe, this migration being known as the heke mairaro, or “heke from below,” the north point being always treated by the Maoris as downward. From that time forth for some years parties of the same tribe constantly recruited their countrymen in their settlements on the Manawatu, gradually extending their occupation over the whole country between Otaki and Rangitikei, although their chief stations were in the Horowhenua and Ohau districts; whilst the Ngatiapa, under the protection of Rangihaeata and Taratoa, occupied some country on the north of the Rangitikei, yielding tribute to both of these chiefs as a condition of their being left in peace.

Not long after the arrival of Whatanui with the heke mairaro, Rauparaha put in execution his long meditated project of invading and permanently occupying the northern coasts of the Middle Island. It appears that his fame as a warrior had reached the ears of Rerewhaka, a great chief of the Ngaitahu, whose principal settlement was at the Kaikoura Peninsula. This chief had been excessively indignant at the defeat of the allies at Waiorua, and on hearing of the song of triumph, chanted by Rauparaha on that occasion, in which the latter indicated his intention of attacking and subduing the Ngaitahu, he had declared “that if Rauparaha dared to set a foot in his country he would rip his belly with a niho-manga, or shark's tooth,” a curse which was reported to Rauparaha by a run-away slave, and which—his memory for small matters being remarkably tenacious—would afford him, at any distance of time, ample pretext and indeed justification for attacking Rerewhaka and his people. In 1828, having accumulated a considerable quantity of fire-arms and ammunition, he started with 340 picked warriors, comprising Ngatitoa, Ngatiawa, Ngatitama, and Ngatiraukawa, under Niho, the son of Te Pehi, Takerei, Te Kanae, Te Koihua, Te Puoho, and other chiefs of note, and first made for D'Urville Island, at the north-east head of Blind Bay. At this time D'Urville Island, the Pelorus and Queen Charlotte Sounds, the Wairau and the Awatere, were all occupied by a numerous section

of the Rangitane tribe, which had settled in these places after destroying the Ngatimamoe some 200 years before. But though numerous, and in that sense powerful, so long as their warfare was carried on with the ordinary New Zealand weapons, they were no match for the chosen warriors of Te Rauparaha, more particularly when armed with the more deadly European weapons. The consequence was that they were everywhere disastrously defeated, hundreds of them being killed and devoured on the spot, whilst numbers of the prisoners were taken to Kapiti to undergo the same fate, the wretched remnant being kept in abject slavery by such of their conquerors as settled in the newly acquired district.

Whilst Rauparaha was engaged in these operations Te Pehi returned from England, and at once joined him with a considerable number of followers. Shortly after this the main force divided, a subdivision of the Ngatitoa named the Ngatirarua hapu, under Niho and Takerei, the Puketapu and Nutiwai hapus of Ngatiawa, under Te Koihua, and the Ngatitama, under Te Puoho, proceeding to Blind and Massacre Bays—and whose exploits will be hereafter referred to—whilst Rauparaha, Te Pehi, and other chiefs, with 300 well armed men, flushed with victory, and grown strong upon human flesh, left Rangitoto for the Kaikoura Peninsula, in order to afford to Rerewhaka the opportunity of putting his long made threat into execution. But the Ngatitoa chief felt sure of a comparatively easy victory, for notwithstanding a great numerical superiority on the part of the enemy, he knew that they were indifferently, if at all, supplied with fire-arms, whilst the great bulk of his own men were well furnished with guns, powder, and ball. It will be observed that, in accordance with the well known habit of the New Zealanders, Rauparaha had never forgotten Rerewhaka's curse, and he felt highly elated at the prospect of a revenge, which the force at his command rendered almost certain. But besides this prospect of vengeance, and the anticipated additional gratification of devouring the bodies of the slain, he expected to acquire large quantities of green-stone weapons and ornaments, in which, as he had been informed by the slave who had reported Rerewhaka's foolish boast, the Ngaitahu of the Kaikoura and Amuri were especially rich, for notwithstanding the introduction of fire-arms into their system of warfare, the mere pounamu, or green-stone battle-axe, and other implements of war manufactured from that substance, was then, and indeed always has been, held in great estimation by the Maoris. Rauparaha, therefore, longed to add the acquisition of such treasures to the gratification which he would derive from wreaking vengeance upon the Ngaitahu chieftain, for the insult under which he had so long suffered.

As my readers are probably aware, the green-stone or nephrite, from which the more valuable of the weapons in question are made, is found

arrived before daylight they anchored a short distance from the shore, in order that they might be enabled at dawn to reconnoitre the position of the enemy before landing. It would appear that the Ngaitahus at that time expected a visit from a southern chief of their own tribe, with a considerable following, and that on the morning in question, seeing the canoes of Rauparaha's party at anchor, and not having noticed the direction from which they had come, they mistook them for those of their friends, and large numbers of the people of the pa ran down to the shore, shouting the cry of welcome to the supposed visitors, who, at once seeing the advantage which the mistake would afford them in their intended attack, made for the shore with all possible speed, and having reached it jumped out of the canoes and immediately commenced the attack. The unfortunate people, being quite unarmed, and taken by surprise, endeavoured to escape by retreating towards the pa, which, in the general confusion, was taken without difficulty, some 1,400 of the people, including women and children, being killed or taken prisoners, amongst the latter of whom was the chief Rerewhaka, whose threat Rauparaha was then avenging. After remaining for some time to feast upon the bodies of the slain, and to plunder the pa of its treasures, the victorious Ngatitoa returned with their prisoners to Kapiti, where the greater number of the latter, including Rerewhaka himself, were put to death and eaten, the chief having been sacrificed with great cruelty on account of the threat which had been the prime cause of the attack. In consequence of this circumstance Rauparaha named the battle the “niho manga, or battle of the shark's tooth.” At the time of this event another section of the Ngaitahu tribe occupied an extensive pa called Kaiapoi, about fourteen miles north of Christchurch, with the inhabitants of which Rauparaha made up his mind to pick a quarrel at the first convenient opportunity, but he felt that the force he had under his command at Kaikoura was too small for the purpose of any attack upon it, particularly after the enemy had received notice of the fall of the latter place, and had had time to make preparations for defence. In the following year, before he had had an opportunity of devising any particular scheme for the purpose of bringing about a quarrel between himself and the Kaiapoi people, he was induced again to attack the remnant of the Ngaitahu at Kaikoura, in consequence of an insult put upon Rangihaeata by a Ngatikahungunu chief named Kekerengu, who, dreading the consequences, had fled across the strait and taken refuge with them. Rauparaha collected a considerable force of Ngatitoa and their allies, under his own leadership, with Te Pehi, Pohaitara, Rangihaeata, and other principal chiefs under him, and started for the Wairau, from whence he made his way along the coast to Kaikoura. On his arrival there he found that the pa had been evacuated on their approach, the inhabitants flying down the Amuri. They were overtaken

by the war party at a pa called Omihi, where they were attacked and routed with great slaughter, numbers of prisoners being also taken. These were left in charge of a detachment, whilst the rest of the force pushed with all speed for Kaiapoi, in order that Rauparaha might put his design against its inhabitants into execution. The pa of that name was situated just within the line of the coast dunes of Pegasus Bay, about a mile to the south of the River Ashley, and was erected upon a promontory about nine or ten acres in extent, which extends into a deep swamp lying between the sand dunes and the bank of the river. This swamp, which is very deep, nearly surrounds the site of the pa, and prevented it from being attacked at any point except in front; and along the line of the front, extending from one branch of the swamp to the other, a distance of about 250 yards, it was defended by a double line of heavy palisading and a deep ditch, with two large outworks, from which a flank fire could be maintained on any party attempting to scale the palisades. I have frequently visited the site of this pa, which still exhibits unmistakeable evidences of the conflict which took place there, including many relics of the special festivities with which the Maoris invariably celebrated their victories. I was informed that after its fall (which will shortly be fully detailed) the principal defenders threw large numbers of their choicest green-stone weapons and ornaments into the deepest part of the swamp, where they still lie, to reward any enterprising person who will drain it for the purpose of recovering them.

When Rauparaha and his people arrived at the pa, they at once opened intercourse with the chiefs, pretending that they had come to seek their friendship, and desired to barter fire-arms and ammunition in exchange for green-stone, in which the people of Kaiapoi, like their kinsfolk at Kaikoura, were extremely rich, but the latter, having been informed by some refugees of the slaughter at Omihi, distrusted the good intentions of their visitors. In order, however, to remove all pretext for hostilities they received them with great appearance of cordiality, and treated the chiefs who visited their houses with ostentatious hospitality. Rauparaha himself, however, could not be induced to enter the pa, the wily chief feeling that he had too surely earned their animosity by the slaughter of their kinsfolk, and, therefore, could not justly place much trust upon their professions of friendship. It appears, according to the Ngatitoa account of the affair, that Te Pehi, who in order to keep up the deception had carried on a trade with some of the people, let the cat out of the bag; for a Ngaitahu chief having expressed great unwillingness to part with a coveted green-stone weapon, was told by Te Pehi, in anger, “Why do you, with the crooked tatoo, resist my wishes; you, whose nose will shortly be cut off with a hatchet.” This confirmation from the Iips of one of the chiefs in command of the Ngatitoa of their preconception of

the real designs of Rauparaha's party, determined the people in the pa to strike a blow which would prevent Rauparaha from further prosecuting his design, at least at that time; and, for this purpose, they resolved to kill the chiefs then in the pa, amongst whom, besides Te Pehi, were Pokaitara, Te Aratangata, of Ngatiraukawa, and others of note. Pokaitara had taken to wife from amongst the prisoners at Kaikoura the daughter of Rongatara, one of the Ngaitahu chieftains then in the pa, and having been invited to the house of the latter under pretext of receiving a present of green-stone, proceeded thither without suspicion of foul play. As he stooped to enter the house the old chief, Rongatara, took hold of his mat, saying, “Welcome, welcome, my daughter's lord,” at the same time killing him by a blow on the head with the green-stone club which he expected to have received as a gift. The death of Pokaitara was the signal for a general slaughter of the Ngatitoa chiefs, who were at once despatched, their bodies being destined to the umus of their murderers. The slaughter of his uncle, and of so many of his leading chiefs, was a severe blow to Rauparaha, who, with the rest of his party, at once fell back on Omihi, where he re-united his forces. In part revenge for the murder, he at once slew all the prisoners, and, after devouring their bodies, returned to the Wairau, from whence they crossed over to Kapiti. The Ngaitahu account of the origin of the quarrel is different, and I give it from a petition presented, in 1869, to the House of Representatives, by Patterson, then Maori member for the Southern Maori Electoral District. The petition refers to a letter addressed to Patterson by the runanga, or local council, of the Maoris living near the European village of Kaiapoi, which is situated on the banks of the Waimakariri River, some miles north of the pa above referred to. The following is the text of the letter, which I give nearly entire, as being of much interest in connection with my story:—

“To Patterson,—

“O friend, salutations to you, and to the Assembly, that is to say, the great chiefs who work for justice and truth.

“O sir, this is the matter which we submit to you, do you publish it to the Assembly, so that the great doctors may examine this disease. The disease is the sale by Ngatitoa of this land.

“After you had left, the runanga gave their attention to the question of the affliction under which they are suffering, and now it is submitted to the great doctor to be prescribed for by him. Had the defeat of the people at this land been equal to that of the people of Rangitikei and Manawatu by Te Rauparaha and Ngatiraukawa, where the people were killed and the land was taken possession of, and has been kept up to this time, then it would have been right that we should suffer under this affliction. But, as for the defeat of the natives of Kaiapoi, the Maori runanga consider that it is very clear

that the battles in which the Kaiapoi natives were defeated were not followed up by occupation on the part of the victors. According to our view the killing of the Kaiapoi natives was caused by the Rangitane, who said that Te Rauparaha was to be killed with a stick used for beating fern-root. He then attacked the Rangitane, and defeated them. When Rerewhaka heard that his relatives had been slain, he said that he would rip Te Rauparaha's belly up with the tooth of a barracoota; it was through that that this evil visited this place. Rerewhaka was living amongst the people of Kaiapoi when he said that. Te Rauparaha should have killed that man, for he was the cause of the crime; he spared him, but killed the descendants of Tuteahuka. O friends, the men of Kaiapoi were in deep distress on account of the killing of their relatives at Kaikoura and at Omihi. Now these two pas were destroyed by Te Rauparaha; then Ngatituteahuka and Ngatihikawaikura, the people of Kaiapoi, bewailed their defeat. Te Rauparaha should have borne in mind that the flesh of our relatives was still sticking to his teeth, and he should have gone away and left it to us to seek payment for our dead after him, but he did not, he came to Kaiapoi. When he came the old chiefs of Kaiapoi wished to make peace, and sent Tamaiharanui to Te Rauparaha. On their meeting they made peace, and the talk of Tamaiharanui and Te Pehi was good. After Tamaiharanui had started to come back Te Rauparaha went to another pa of ours, called Tuahiwi, and there sought for the grandmother of Tamaiharanui. They dug her body up and ate it, all decomposed as it was. Tamaiharanui was greatly distressed, and threatened to kill the war party of Te Rauparaha. Then his elder relatives, the great chiefs of Kaiapoi, said to him, ‘O son, do not, lest further evil follow in your footsteps.’ He replied, ‘It would not have mattered had I been away when this decomposed body was eaten, but, as it is, it has taken place in my very presence.’ Well, as the chief gave the word, Te Pehi, a great chief of Ngatitoa, and others were killed. Then Te Rauparaha went away.”

Such is the Ngaitahu account of the origin of the quarrel, which I am inclined to accept. It will be thought strange that Te Rauparaha did not, without seeking any pretence for the act, attack the pa in force, but to have done so would have been a violation of the Maori etiquette in matters relating to war. He had taken vengeance for the threat of Rerewhaka, and it was for the relatives of the latter to strike the next blow, which it appears they were unwilling to do, dreading the very results which afterwards followed in revenge for the killing of Te Pehi.

Rauparaha brooded much over this murder of his relative, who, having accepted a secondary position in the tribe, no longer excited his jealousy, and had greatly assisted him as a wise counsellor and valiant leader. After full consultation with the other chiefs of the tribe, he resolved that his revenge

should be carried out by an act as treacherous as that by which the death of Te Pehi and his companions had been brought about; and whilst still revolving in his mind the best means of accomplishing this design, an European vessel arrived at Kapiti from Sydney, after having passed through Foveaux Strait and visited the Auckland Islands for the purpose of leaving a party of sealers at the latter place. Amongst the passengers by this vessel was Hohepa Tamaihengia (who lately died at Porirua), a near relative of Rauparaha, who, on reaching Foveaux Strait, had heard of the murder of Te Pehi and his companions from the Maoris there. Hohepa himself at once conceived the project of seizing and killing some of the Ngaitahu chiefs in utu for their death, and entered into arrangements with the master of the vessel to proceed to Akaroa for that purpose. This plan, however, having become known to some European passengers who were about to join a whaling party in Queen Charlotte Sound, they dissuaded the master from carrying it into effect, and the vessel proceeded direct to Kapiti. Hohepa communicated his design to Rauparaha, who determined to follow it out on the first convenient opportunity. Sometime after the departure of this vessel, the English brig “Elizabeth” arrived at Kapiti. This vessel was commanded by a person named Stewart, to whom Rauparaha offered a large cargo of flax if he would carry him and a chosen party of warriors to Akaroa, for the purpose of seizing Tamaiharanui, the principal chief of the Ngaitahu, who had been present at Kaiapoi, at the time of the murder of Te Pehi, and had indeed taken an active part in counselling it.

Stewart assented to the proposal, and conveyed Rauparaha and his warriors to Akaroa, where the European scoundrel, at the instigation of his charterer, opened communication with the unsuspecting Tamaiharanui, and ultimately induced him, with his wife and daughter, by the promise of some guns and powder, to come on board, where he was at once seized by Rauparaha, who, with his men, had up to this time remained concealed in the hold of the vessel. Having bound the captured chief they remained quiet until nightfall, and then, landing in the ship's boats, attacked the Ngaitahu in their village, of whom they killed large numbers. The bodies of the slain were taken on board the vessel, which at once set sail for Kapiti. On the passage up the successful taua feasted on these bodies, using the ship's coppers for cooking them. It may be that when Stewart engaged his vessel for this expedition he was not made aware of the intentions of Te Rauparaha, or did not foresee the results which followed, whilst he was certainly unable to prevent the atrocities which were perpetrated on board of her, but his name will always be infamous for his connection with this atrocious affair. It appears that the unfortunate Tamaiharanui attempted to commit suicide, in consequence of which he was chained in the cabin, but his hands being free,

he managed to strangle his daughter, and to push her body through one of the after ports, in order to save her from the indignities to which she would be subjected by her ruthless captors, but he himself was taken alive to Kapiti, where he was delivered over to the widows of Te Pehi, who subjected him to frightful tortures, until at length he was put out of his misery by a red-hot ramrod being passed through his neck.

The following is the account given to me by Tamihana Te Rauparaha of the mode in which the unfortunate chief was delivered over to his death:—“When the vessel arrived at Kapiti it was proclaimed that Tamaiharanui was on board, and the people were delighted. Ngaitahu had thought there was only the flowing sea (i.e., that there was no one going to attack them), but they were deceived, and Tamaiharanui was taken. There were not many people left in charge of Kapiti when the ship returned; they were at Waikanae and Otaki scraping flax as cargo for the vessel. Te Pehi's widows were at Waitohu, near Otaki, scraping flax. Tamaiharanui was then taken to Otaki in Rauparaha's canoe to be shown to those widows, as it was to be left to them to determine whether he was to be killed or allowed to live. When they arrived at Otaki he asked Rauparaha to spare him, but Rauparaha replied, ‘If the party killed, that is, Te Pehi, belonged to me, I would save you, but as the dead belonged to Ngatitoa I cannot save you.’ He was then taken to Waitohu, to be seen by the widows, and by Tiaia, the chief wife of Pehi, and was then delivered over to them. They hung him on a tree and killed him with great torture, and he died when a red-hot ramrod was put through his neck by Tiaia. Rauparaha did not witness his death.”

It is impossible to conceive that women could descend so low in the scale of humanity as to commit such atrocities without any sentiment of compassion or of remorse, but those who are familiar with the history of the times of which I write, may recall many frightful instances of barbarity of the same kind. Amongst these, one of the most cruel which has come under my notice is the following, related by Mr. Wilson in his “Three chapters in the Life of Te Wakaroa”:—“We may here mention a tragedy—all are tragedies in this chapter of horrors. Mr. Knight was accustomed, every morning about sunrise, to attend a school at Ohinemutu Pa, but as there were no scholars on the morning of the 12th May, he went to the place where he was told they would be found. There he perceived a great number of people sitting in two assemblages on the ground—one entirely of men, the other of women and the chief Pango. The former company he joined, and conversed with them, as well as he was able, on the sin of cannibalism, but Korokai and all laughed at the idea of burying their enemies. Their conversation ceased, however, on Knight hearing the word patua (kill) repeated several times; and looking round toward the women, he was horrified to see

the widow of the late chief Haupapa, who had been killed at Maketu, standing naked and armed with a tomahawk, whilst another woman, also nude, and Pango were dragging a woman taken prisoner at Te Tumu, that she might be killed by Mrs. Haupapa, in the open space between the men and the women. Mr. Knight immediately sprang forward, and entreated them not to hurt the woman, but Mrs. Haupapa, paying no attention, raised her hatchet; on this, Knight caught the weapon and pulled it out of her hand, whereupon the other woman angrily wrenched it from his grasp, and would have killed him had not Pango interposed by running at him and giving him a blow and thrust that nearly sent him into the lake. He was, however, about to return when the natives seized him and held him back. Just then, the poor woman slipping out of the garments she was held by, rushed to Knight, and falling down, clasped his knees convulsively, in an agony of terror. Her murderers came, and abusing the pakeha the while for pokanoaing (interfering or meddling), with difficulty dragged her from her hold. The helpless pakeha says, ‘It would have melted the heart of a stone’ to hear her calling each relative by name, beseeching them to save her, for though a Tauranga woman, she was connected with Rotorua, and to see her last despairing, supplicating look, as she was taken a few yards off and killed by that virago Mrs. Haupapa. Now this scene occurred simply because Haupapa's widow longed to assuage the sorrow of her bereaved heart, by despatching, with her own hand, some prisoner of rank as utu for her lord. The tribe respected her desire; they assembled to witness the spectacle, and furnished a victim by handing over a chief's widow to her will.”

It may, as I have before observed, seem strange that Rauparaha did not at once take the bolder and more manly course of attacking the Ngaitahu at Kaiapoi, in the ordinary way of warfare, for the purpose of avenging the murder of Te Pehi and his brother chiefs, but I am informed by his son that the course he adopted was strictly tika, or, in other words, in accordance with Maori etiquette in such matters, and that, indeed, any other line of action would not properly have met the exigencies of the case. That Rauparaha was not limited to the adoption of what we should consider the treacherous plan of revenge above related is clear from the events which I am about to refer to, for in about a year after the capture of Tamaiharanui our chief determined, in furtherance of his original design, to attack the great pa at Kaiapoi. For this purpose he assembled a large force, comprising Ngatitoa, Ngatiawa, and Ngatiraukawa, part of whom made their way through the Wairau Gorge and the Hanmer Plains to the Waipara River, which flows into the sea near the north head of Pegasus Bay; whilst he, with the main body of his forces, passed over to the East Coast, through the country now occupied by Messrs. Clifford and Weld, and from thence down that coast to the mouth of the

Waipara, where they were joined by the inland party. The inland line of march runs through some of the most picturesque country in New Zealand, the gorge of the Wairau, especially, being rugged and grand in the extreme. I was the first European who ever passed through this gorge, which I did in 1859 or 1860 for the purpose of determining whether it would afford a practicable line of communication between Nelson and Canterbury, and on that occasion I was accompanied by a Ngatitoa man, who had been one of the inland war party on the occasion above referred to. Singular to state, however, I found, after passing through the gorge, that he had entirely forgotten the line of route between Tarndale and the pass into the Hanmer Plains, and the season was, unfortunately, too far advanced to permit of my attempting to discover it independently. Indeed, my party was snowed up for several days, and as we ran some risk of getting short of food for the return journey, I was reluctantly compelled to give up the design. This was, however, of little importance, as Mr. Weld, now Governor of Western Australia, had, a few days before my passage through the upper part of the gorge, found his way into Tarndale over the mount near the junction of the Wairau and Kopiouenuku Rivers, and had established the connections between that place and the pass known as Jollie's Pass, leading from the Clarence River into the Hanmer Plains. Subsequent explorations of my own resulted in the discovery of the country in the Upper Waiauua and the line of the Cannibal Gorge, and of a shorter and easier pass from Tarndale into the Hanmer Plains, being probably the one used by the native party above referred to.

After the junction of the two bodies Rauparaha proceeded at once to Kaiapoi for the purpose of attacking the pa. The Ngaitahu were evidently quite unprepared for this fresh invasion, a large number of their warriors being absent at Port Cooper, whither they had accompanied Taiaroa (father of the present member of the House of Representatives of that name), who was then the leading chief of that portion of their tribe which occupied the country in the neighbourhood of the present site of Dunedin, and who was returning home after a visit to his kinsfolk at Kaiapoi. Others of the people were engaged in their cultivations outside of the pa, which was, in fact, only occupied by a small number of able-bodied warriors and a few of the older men, and some women and children. So carefully had Rauparaha concealed the approach of his war party that the first intimation which the inhabitants of the pa received of it was the sound of the firing as his force attacked the people in the cultivations, and the cries of the dying and wounded; and they had barely time to close the gates of the outworks and to man the line of defences before a number of the enemy appeared in front of it. The Ngatitoa at once sprung to the assault, hoping to carry the defences by a coup de main,

but were repulsed with some slaughter; and after renewing the attempt and finding them too strong to be thus overcome, they determined to commence a regular siege. For that purpose they intrenched themselves on the ground in front of the pa, at the same time occupying some sand-hills which commanded it on the eastern side, but from which it is separated by a branch of the great swamp before referred to. In the meantime, some of the Ngaitahu who had escaped from the first attack, favoured in so doing by their intimate knowledge of the line of swamps which occupies the intervals between the sand-dunes and the sea coast as far as Banks Peninsula, managed to reach Port Cooper, where they informed their people of the attack upon the pa, arriving there in time to stop Taiaroa and those who were about to accompany him to Otago. After collecting reinforcements from the villages on the peninsula, Taiaroa and his forces made their way along the coast line as far as the Waimakariri, availing themselves of the swamps above referred to, for the purpose of concealing their march from any detached parties of the Ngatitoa. On reaching the Waimakariri they crossed it on rafts (commonly called mokihi by the natives) made of dried stalks of the Phormium tenax, and concealed themselves until dark. Finding the hostile forces encamped along the front of the pa, and warned by their watch-fires that they were on the alert, they determined to ford the swamp at a narrow point on its western side, and to enter it through an outwork erected there, that being the only point along the line of the swamp which was at all weak. Using the utmost caution in their approach to this point they succeeded in reaching it without having attracted the notice of the besiegers, and at once plunged into the swamp, trusting to be able to struggle through it and to enter the pa without being attacked by the Ngatitoa. Knowing, however, that the defenders would also be on the alert, they shouted the name of Taiaroa as they plunged into the water, in the hope that their friends would recognise their voices and take the necessary steps to admit them; but the latter, believing it to be a ruse of the Ngatitoa, opened fire upon them, which was kept up vigorously for some time. The error having at last been discovered, and little damage having fortunately been done, the main body of the warriors were admitted into the pa, to the great joy of the handful of people by whom, up to that time, the defence had been maintained. The siege operations were, however, in but a slight degree affected by this accession of strength to the besieged, for although they made frequent sorties against the works of the Ngatitoa these experienced warriors held them without difficulty, and repulsed them all with loss to the assailants. The Ngaitahu, dispirited by their failures, soon abandoned these tactics, and, trusting in the impregnable nature of the pa, confined themselves to purely defensive operations. I ought to mention that at the time the siege commenced the pa was well provisioned, besides which

little doubt, however, that but for the great superiority in the weapons of the Waikato force, they would have thought twice before attacking their old foes, who had always been notorious for their bravery, and who in their frequent migrations had proved themselves more than a match for even the most warlike tribes to which they became opposed. But the possession of a large supply of fire-arms gave to the Waikato chieftains an almost irresistible offensive power, and they did not hesitate, therefore, in attacking the Ngatiawa, even in the midst of their own country and in their principal stronghold. The pa was defended by a large number of warriors, and withstood for many months the most vigorous assaults, only falling at last after the unfortunate inhabitants had suffered much from famine. When taken, hundreds of prisoners fell into the hands of the victors, and it is related of Te Wherowhero that upwards of 250 of them were slain with his own hands, in order that they might be prepared for the ovens. It is said that, as he sat on the ground after the assault, the unfortunate wretches were one by one placed alongside of him, their heads within his reach, and that he despatched them succesively by a single blow on the skull with a celebrated mere pounamu, now in the possession of his son, the present Maori King. After killing this great number he threw the mere down, exclaiming, “I am tired, let the rest live,” and accordingly their lives were spared, but they were kept in slavery until some time after the establishment of the European settlement of New Plymouth.

The heavy blow thus inflicted upon the tribe, and the fear of complete annihilation, determined those who still remained to join Rauparaha and the Ngatiraukawa, whose forces, thus increased, would be more than a match for any war party which the Waikatos could bring against them, even if the chiefs of the latter tribes felt disposed to carry hostilities into Rauparaha's country. It appears that, shortly after the arrival of the Ngatiawa on the coast, they formed the design of taking possession of a large part of the country occupied by the Ngatiraukawa, and particularly that in the neighbourhood and to the north of Otaki. It would seem, moreover, that there was dissension amongst the Ngatitoas themselves, a portion of them taking part with the Ngatiawa, out of jealousy at some apparent favouritism extended by Rauparaha to the great Ngatiawa chieftains, and more particularly to Whatanui, whose relationship to Rauparaha, together with his high character as a chief and warrior, gave him great influence with the latter. The immediate cause of the fighting to which I am about to refer, however, was a robbery committed by a party of Ngatiruanui, who were caught by the Ngatiraukawa in the very act of plundering their potato pits near Waikawa. A conflict at once took place, in which a leading chief of the Ngatiruanui, named Tawhake, was killed, and this led to hostilities being carried on between the two tribes at various

points on the line of their settlements between Manawatu and Waikanae. This state of affairs continued for a considerable time, the forces engaged on each side being numerous and well armed, the result being that large numbers were killed on both sides. Soon after this civil war had commenced Te Rauparaha, who at once saw the disastrous results which must follow from it, sent messengers to Te Heuheu, urging that chief to bring down a force sufficiently strong to enable him to crush the Ngatiruanui, who were the most turbulent of the insurgents, after which he hoped to be able to bring about a peace between the remainder of the contending parties. He was much grieved, moreover, at the dissension in his own tribe, part of which, as I have before mentioned, had joined the Ngatiawa leaders, and had taken an active part in the numerous engagements which had already occurred. The loss on both sides had been severe, and Rauparaha knew full well that he required the whole strength at his command to maintain his position against the Wanganui and Ngatikahungunu tribes, who would have been but too ready to attack him if they saw any reasonable prospect of success. In this connection, I may observe that at this period the shores of Cook Strait were frequented by numbers of whale and other ships, and the tribes along the coasts found no difficulty in obtaining fire-arms and ammunition, which were the principal articles received in barter for flax, then largely used in Australia for the manufacture of wool-lashing. This facility of obtaining European weapons placed the tribes in question upon a footing of comparative equality in their contests, and Rauparaha could no longer reckon upon a continuance of the advantages which his own earlier possession of them had given him in his wars, and it was, therefore, of the utmost moment to him that nothing should take place which would tend to weaken his influence or his numbers. It was, therefore, with great satisfaction that he received intimation from Te Heuheu of his intention to bring a large force to his aid; and, in effect, within two or three months after the commencement of hostilities, that chief, accompanied by other chiefs of note from Maungatautari and Taupo, amongst whom were Tariki and Taonui, reached Otaki with nearly 800 well-armed fighting men. No sooner had they arrived than they proceeded to attack the Ngatiawa at Horowhenua, a pa close to the Otaki River. But even with this great accession to his forces, the contest raged for several months with varying success, the slaughter in some instances being very great. In one of the battles Papaka, a favourite brother of Te Heuheu, was killed, and in another Te Tipi, a son of Rauparaha.

At length a great battle was fought at Pakakutu, in which the Ngatiruanui were defeated with serious loss, their chief Takerangi being killed and their pa taken. This battle put an end to the war, for soon afterwards the whole of the leading chiefs on both sides met, and upon the

advice and urgent entreaty of Te Heuheu and Whatanui, a peace was made, which was not again broken until the fighting at Kirititonga, which (as will be mentioned in the sequel) took place on the day before the arrival of the “Tory.” Immediately after peace had been solemnly ratified the parties divided, the Ngatiraukawa proceeding to re-occupy their former settlements around Ohau and Horowhenua, and also the district between the Manawatu and Rangitikei Rivers, whilst the Ngatiawa retired below Waikanae, occupying the various points, including Port Nicholson, in which they were ultimately found by the agents of the New Zealand Company. Rauparaha, however, was so much grieved at what had taken place, and more particularly at the defection of that part of his own tribe which had joined the Ngatiawa during the recent struggle, that he determined to accompany Te Heuheu back to Maungatautari, and settle there for the remainder of his days. In pursuance of this resolve, he collected his more immediate followers and proceeded as far as Ohau, where, however, he was overtaken by messengers from Otaki and Kapiti, urging him to abandon his resolution and to remain with his people. In this request they were joined by Te Heuheu, and after much discussion and persuasion he consented to their request, returning to Kapiti, after taking leave of his great ally.

This was the last great struggle in which Rauparaha was engaged, but it seems that during the intervals of rest between his various more important undertakings, he was ever mindful of the treacherous attempt of the Muaupoko to murder him, and of the actual slaughter of his children, and had unceasingly persecuted the remnant of this tribe, until at last they, as well as the Ngatiapa and Rangitane, sought the protection of Te Whatanui. In the words of Te Kepa Rangihiwinui (better known as Major Kemp), son of Tunguru, one of the chiefs of the Muaupoko, who had been concerned in the murder, “Whatanui took them under his protection, and promised that nothing should reach them but the rain from heaven;” meaning that he would stand between them and the long-nursed and ever-burning wrath of Te Rauparaha. The latter unwillingly yielded to the wishes of his great kinsman, and from that time ceased directly to molest these unfortunate people, who were suffered again to occupy part of their original territory in the neighbourhood of Lake Horowhenua; not as a tribe, however, but simply in the character of tributaries, if not actual slaves, to Whatanui. In the words of Matene Te Whiwhi, “Rauparaha was anxious to exterminate Muaupoko, but Whatanui interfered. Some had been taken prisoners, but others were living dispersed in the mountains. When they came to Horowhenua, they came like wild dogs; if they had been seen they would have been caught and killed. There was one there, a woman of rank, whose possessions had covered all Otaki, and who had been a slave of mine. She was the wife of Te Kooku.

They had been taken but not killed.” But it is clear, nevertheless, that although Rauparaha refrained from directly molesting them, he was not unwilling to join in any indirect attempt to exterminate them, for we find that on one occasion Wi Tako, in conjunction with some of the Ngatitoa chiefs, having been instigated by Te Rauparaha to do so, invited the whole Muaupoko people to a great feast to be held at Ohariu—upon some one of the numerous pretexts which the Maoris knew so well how to use for engaging in festivities, it having been arranged beforehand that these guests should all be murdered and eaten. The bait took, notwithstanding the advice of Whatanui, who, distrusting the reasons assigned for the festival, cautioned the Muaupoko not to attend, predicting some disaster to them. Notwithstanding this caution, upwards of 150 attended the festival, all of whom were slaughtered, and their bodies duly consigned to the ovens; but this was the last great act of slaughter of the kind which took place.

Shortly after the close of the civil war to which I have lately alluded, a section of the Ngatiawa tribe, known as the Ngatimutunga, which had taken up their quarters in Port Nicholson, chartered the English brig “Rodney” to carry them down to the Chatham Islands, which had been reported to them by a member of their hapu, who had visited the islands in a whaling ship, as being thickly peopled with an unwarlike and plump-looking race, who would fall an easy prey to such experienced warriors as his own people. This occurred about the year 1836, and within less than two years after the expedition reached the islands the aboriginal inhabitants were reduced from 1,500 to less than 200 people, the greater number having been devoured by their conquerors. In one of the cases in the Wellington Museum may be seen a bone spear, which formerly belonged to Mokungatata, one of the leading chiefs of the Ngatimutunga, who was known to have lived for a considerable time almost exclusively on the flesh of young children, as many as six of them being sometimes cooked in order to feast himself and his friends.

Harking back to the division of Te Rauparaha's forces, just before he left D'Urville Island for the purpose of attacking the Kaikoura Pa, that portion which remained under the leadership of Niho, Takerei, Te Koihua and Te Puoho, proceeded to attack the settlements of the Rangitane and Ngatiapa in Blind and Massacre Bays, which they entirely destroyed. Te Koihua settled near Pakawau, in Massacre Bay, where I frequently saw the old man, prior to his death, which happened but a few years ago. Strange to say, his love for green-stone was so great that even after he and his wife had both reached a very advanced age they travelled down the West Coast in 1858, then a very arduous task, and brought back a large rough slab of that substance, which they proceeded diligently to reduce to the form of a mere. Niho and Takerei, leaving Te Koihua in Massacre Bay at the time of their original incursion,

proceeded down the coast as far as the Hokitika River, killing and taking prisoners nearly all the existing inhabitants. Amongst the prisoners was Tuhuru, who was afterwards ransomed by the Ngaitahu for a celebrated mere called Kai Kanohi, now in the possession of the descendants of Matenga Te Aupori. Niho and Takerei settled at the mouth of the Grey, whilst detached parties occupied various points along the coast, both to the north and south of that river. I do not think it necessary to refer in any detail to the events which took place between the Horowhenua war and the arrival of the “Tory” with Colonel Wakefield in 1839. On the 16th November in that year the ship reached Kapiti, and Colonel Wakefield was informed that a sanguinary battle had just been fought near Waikanae on that morning between large forces of the Ngatiawa on the one side, and of Ngatiraukawa on the other. This fight is commonly known as the kirititonga, and was caused by the renewal, at the funeral obsequies of Rauparaha's sister Waitohi, of the land feuds between the two tribes. The forces engaged were large, and the killed on both sides numbered nearly eighty, whilst considerable numbers were wounded. Rauparaha himself took no part in the battle, reaching the scene of action after the repulse of the Ngatiraukawa, and narrowly escaping death by swimming off to his canoe, his retreat being covered by a vigorous rally on the part of his allies. This was the last contest which occurred between the natives along the coast in question, the arrival of the European settlers having entirely changed the aspect of affairs.

I need not here detail the arrangements made by Colonel Wakefield for the purchase of the country in the neighbourhood of Wellington, and along the coast to the northward, but it is worth while to extract from Mr. E. J. Wake-field's “Adventures in New Zealand” the account he gives of the colonel's first meeting with Rauparaha, of the appearance of the latter, and of the impression which he made upon his European visitors. “We had just made up a boat's crew,” he says, “from the cabin party, to go over and see the field of battle, the surgeons taking their instruments with them, when a message arrived from Rauparaha. He was on Evans Island, the nearest to the ship of the three islets, and expressed a desire to see Colonel Wakefield. We therefore pulled round and went to see him. He had just returned from the scene of bloodshed, whither he asserted that he had gone to restore peace; and seeing the arrival of our ship, which was taken for a man-of-war by many even of the Europeans, he had betaken himself, with all his goods, to the residence of an English whaler, named Thomas Evans, on whom he relied for protection from some imaginary danger. We had heard, while in Cloudy Bay, that Rauparaha had expressed himself in somewhat violent terms towards us for purchasing Port Nicholson without his sanction; and he was described by the whalers as giving way to great alarm when told what the ship was, and as having

inquired anxiously what natives we had on board. As we leaped from our boat he advanced to meet us, and, with looks of evident fear and mistrust, eagerly sought our hands to exchange the missionary greeting. During the whole of the ensuing conversation he seemed uneasy and insecure in his own opinion, and the whalers present described this behaviour as totally at variance with his usual boastfulness and arrogance. He made us a pious speech about the battle, saying that he had had no part in it, and that he was determined to give no encouragement to fighting. He agreed to come on board the next day, and departed to one of the neighbouring islands. He is rather under the average height, and very dignified and stately in his manner, although on this occasion it was much affected by the wandering and watchful glances which he frequently threw around him, as though distrustful of everyone. Although at least sixty years old he might have passed for a much younger man, being hale and stout, and his hair but slightly grizzled. His features are aquiline and striking, but an overhanging upper lip, and a retreating forehead on which his eyebrows wrinkled back when he lifted his deep sunken eyelids and penetrating eyes, produced a fatal effect on the good prestige arising from his first appearance. The great chieftain, the man able to lead others, and habituated to wield authority, was clear at first sight; but the savage ferocity of the tiger, who would not scruple to use any means for the attainment of that power, the destructive ambition of a selfish despot, was plainly discernible on a nearer view. Innumerable accounts have been related to me of Rauparaha's unbounded treachery. No sacrifice of honour or feeling seems to have been too great for him, if conducive to his own aggrandizement or security. He has been known to throw one of his own men overboard in order to lighten his canoe when pursued by the enemy, and he had slaughtered one of his own slaves at the late feast at Mana to appear opulent in the eyes of his assembled guests. This was one of the poor, submissive, hard-working tributaries whom we had seen at the Pelorus. In his intercourse with the white whalers and traders and the shipping in the strait, he had universally distinguished himself by the same qualities. By dint of cringing and fawning upon those who showed power and inclination to resist his constant extortions, and the most determined insolence and bullying towards those whom he knew to be at his mercy, he succeeded in obtaining a large revenue from the white population, whether transient or permanent, which he invariably applied to the extension of his power among the natives. He was always accompanied in these marauding excursions, which he frequently extended over to Cloudy Bay and Queen Charlotte Sound, by Rangihaeata, who had become his inseparable companion since his rise in authority. Their respective stations were pithily described by one of the whalers, who told us that ‘the Robuller’ as he mispronounced his name,

‘cast the bullets, and the Rangihaeata shot them.’ Rauparaha was the mind, and his mate the body, on these black-mail gathering rounds. They had both acquired a violent taste for grog, and this, with fire-arms and powder, were the principal articles demanded.”

Such is the account given by a writer, by no means favourable to Rauparaha, of the impressions he had formed of the chief upon their first interview, and although in some respects the picture he draws is not a favourable one, we may clearly see that its worst features are owing to the intercourse of Rauparaha with the class of European traders who then frequented the coast. Master as he was of all the treacherous arts practised by the Maori warrior, and ruthlessly as his designs were carried out, and fearful as the results may have been, it must be remembered that he was doing no more than his great countrymen, E Hongi, Waharoa, Te Wherowhero, and other leading chiefs who, during the same period, carried on wars in various parts of the islands. Those who knew Te Wherowhero Potatau will recall the peculiar dignity of his manner, and certainly no one would have supposed that the tall, graceful-looking man in the full dress of an English gentleman, who conversed with quiet ease with those whom he met in the drawing-rooms of Government House, at Auckland, was the same person as the savage who sat naked on the ground at Pukerangiora smashing the skulls of hundreds of defenceless prisoners, until he was almost smothered with blood and brains. Nor can I believe that Rauparaha was ever guilty of the treacherous conduct towards his own people with which he is charged by Mr. Wakefield. Their love and respect for him were very great, and the influence he acquired with such men as Te Heuheu and Whatanui indicates that he possessed the highest qualities as a chief. I had not intended to carry my story beyond the arrival of the “Tory,” but I think it as well to give Rauparaha's own view of the disastrous affair at the Wairau in 1843, and of its results as related to me by his son.

“I will now,” he says, “leave my account of the battles of Te Rauparaha at this end of the island, and speak of the folly of the Europeans and Maoris at Wairau, where Wakefield met his death. The fight, and death of Wakefield and the other European gentlemen in 1843, were caused by the deceit of Captain Piringatapu (anglice Blenkinsopp). He deceived Rauparaha in giving him a big gun for the purchase of Wairau. He wrote some documents in English, which said that he had bought that land. Rauparaha did not know what was in those documents, and signed his name in ignorance. Captain Piringatapu told Rauparaha that when he saw the captain of a man-of-war he was to show him the documents that he might know that they were chiefs. Rauparaha thought that it was all correct. When Rauparaha

returned from Cloudy Bay, near Wairau, he gave the documents to Hawea^* to read; when he had read them he told Rauparaha that all his land at Wairau had passed away to Captain Piringatapu, and that he had received a big gun for it. Rauparaha was angry, and tore up the documents and threw them in the fire, also the documents held by the chiefs of Ngatitoa at Kapiti, and Ngatitoa of the other island. When Wakefield arrived, and the settlements of Nelson and Wellington were formed, he (Wakefield) went to Wairau for the purpose of surveying. Rauparaha did not consent as he had not been paid for it, since he had been deceived by Captain Piringatapu. Rauparaha's thought was that the land ought not to be taken by Wakefield, but that they should consider the matter before the land was handed over. Trouble and wrong was caused by the hurried attack of Wakefield and party upon Rauparaha. Rauparaha has told me a good deal about this matter. It was not his desire that the Europeans should be killed; his love to Wakefield and party was great. Rangihaeata, Rauparaha's nephew, was misled by his own foolish thought and want of attention to what Rauparaha had said. When Wakefield and party were dead, Rauparaha rose and said, ‘Hearken Te Rangihaeata, I will now leave you as you have set aside my tikanga, let those of the Europeans that have been killed suffice; let the others live, do not kill them.’ Rangihaeata replied, ‘What about your daughter that has been killed.’ Rauparaha replied, ‘Why should not that daughter die?’ Rauparaha also said, ‘Now I will embrace christianity, and turn to God, who has preserved me from the hands of the Europeans.’ This was the time when he embraced christianity. I was absent when the fight took place at Wairau, having gone to preach to Ngaitahu. I went as far as Rakaia. I was there one year, and was the first person that went there to preach. It was on this account that my father did not go there to fight. When Rangihaeata again occasioned trouble to the Europeans at the Hutt, Rauparaha was sad at the folly of Rangihaeata in withholding the land that had been purchased from him and Te Rangihaeata by the Europeans for £200. Rauparaha endeavoured to persuade Rangihaeata to cease causing trouble about that land, but he would not hearken.

“Rauparaha was afterwards taken prisoner by Governor Grey at Porirua without sufficient pretext. The following is the reason why he was taken:—A letter was written by some one, and to which the name of Te Rauparaha was signed; it was then sent to the chiefs of Patutokotoku at Wanganui. It is said that Mamaku and Rangihaeata wrote the letter and signed the name of Rauparaha to give it force. I was at school at this time with Bishop Selwyn at Auckland, together with my wife Ruth, and did not see the

deposit it will be remembered that some of the most perfect and interesting of the early discovered Moa bones were obtained—the collection of Mr. Earle, the pair of feet found by Tommy Chaseland, some crania which I think were given to Sir George Grey, and many other specimens of great interest were obtained from this bed.

After noting several other places in which I formerly found these remains, under conditions which satisfied me that if contemporary with man these particular birds had not met their death through his agency, I shall pass to those probably more recent deposits which, from the circumstances under which they occur, were to my mind clearly accumulations of the refuse of human meals.

Of these, the first which met my observation was the very interesting sandflat of Te Rangatapu, near the mouth of the Waingongoro, a locality for Moa bones first discovered, I believe, by a member of our Society, the Rev. Richard Taylor, to whom I feel that some apology is due for the grievous poaching which I committed upon his manor.

This sandflat occupies a break in the coast-line cliffs through which it is evident that the river, at no geologically remote period, found its way to the sea; but the sand with which the gap is filled has no connection with the bed of finely laminated sand which is described as occurring in the neighbouring cliffs. It was in excavating in the old surface of this sandflat that I found the umus of the old inhabitants, and sundry articles of their use, such as fish-line weights, a patu paraoa, etc., and quantities of obsidian chips. Some of the larger bones too had, it seemed to me, been broken while fresh; the fractured ends offering a glazed surface instead of the rough, porous appearance of such as were broken in our attempts to extricate them. At this place, too, fragments of the egg-shells were first found: some much worn by what was mistaken by English geologists for the effect of water-carriage, but which was really attributable to the action of drift-sand. The result of my exploration of this flat—coupled with the tradition of the resident natives that it had been the first settled dwelling-place of their ancestors on their arrival from Hawaiki, and the Maori traditions concerning the existence of the Moa and the use of it by them as food, of its bones for implements, and of its feathers as ornaments—was a tolerably clear conviction to my mind that the birds, whose relics I found there, had been killed, cooked, and eaten by those ancestors. This conviction I strove to impress upon my home correspondents, but not with complete success, for they, supported by the opinion of a gentleman of higher scientific and official position in the colony, could not divest their minds of the idea that, occurring as these did in the surface of the material which filled an old river channel, they must have been water-borne from some inland locality.

In my account of this spot I shall be guided by the letters which I wrote at the time of my sending home the collections of which our president has suggested that I should furnish extracts.

The only other important discovery which I shall have to notice, is the old kainga at the stream now known as Awamoa, a name given by me instead of its original name of Te Awakokomuka, to prevent confusion with other streams of the latter name in the district. This kainga, which we found in 1852, afforded further unmistakable proof of the co-existence of man with the Moa. The bones and egg-shells of Dinornis and its kindred, mixed with remains of every available variety of bird, beast, and fish used as food by the aborigines, being all in and around the umus (or native ovens) in which they had been cooked. Although my collection from this place reached England in 1853 it remained unopened until after my arrival there in 1856, when I caused it to be conveyed to the crypts of the British Museum, and there unpacked it in the presence of the great authority on our gigantic birds, Professor Owen. With the exception of two small collections which were selected for me by Professor Owen, and which I gave, one to the Museum of Yale College, U.S., and the other to that of the Jardin des Plantes, the whole of this collection is now in the British Museum. The fragments of egg-shells from these umus varied in size from less than a quarter of an inch of greatest diameter to three or four inches. These, after careful washing, I had sorted, and having, with some patience, found the fragments which had originally been broken from each other and fitted them together, I succeeded in restoring at least a dozen eggs to an extent sufficient to show their size and outline. Six or seven of the best of these I gave to the British Museum after their purchase of the collection; one is in the Museum of the College of Surgeons; the rest, including one very beautiful egg with a polished ivory-like surface, are still in my ownership somewhere in England. Some idea of the labour entailed by this attempt to rehabilitate eggs may be gathered from the fact that several of those restored consisted of between 200 and 300 fragments. I may add that in the markings, size, and so forth, of the eggs (making allowance for the alteration of the former toward the ends of the eggs) I made out about twenty-four varieties, of which I have specimens.

At a meeting of the Zoological Society a discussion which followed the reading of Professor Owen's first paper on this collection, first showed me how unprepared were the scientific men at home to admit the co-existence of man with the Moa, but at its conclusion I conceive that doubts on that head were removed from the minds of most of those present.

With the exception of a slight notice in the New Zealand “Spectator” of 1853 no attempt at a detailed account of the Awamoa kainga has, so far as I remember, been yet published. I therefore hope that this portion at least of

The chief readily gave me the bone for a little tobacco, and I afterwards sent it to Professor Owen by Sir Everard Home; this took place in the beginning of 1839, and some months later another bone of the Tarepo was procured by a sailor in the same part, which was given to Mr. Rule, who forwarded it to Professor Owen some time before mine reached him, but I think I may justly claim to have been the first discoverer of the Moa.

On our reaching Poverty Bay (Turanga) I learnt that they were constantly finding these huge birds' bones. Mr. Williams soon after commenced a missionary station there, and a year or two later obtained a large number of these bones quite perfect. Some of them were forwarded to Dr. Buckland, and others to me, but one of those I received was a human bone.

Early in 1843 I removed from the Bay of Islands to Wanganui, and my first journey was along the coast of Waimate. As we were resting on the shore near the Waingongoro Stream I noticed the fragment of a bone which reminded me of the one I found at Waiapu. I took it up and asked my natives what it was? They replied, “A. Moa's bone, what else? look around and you will see plenty of them.” I jumped up, and, to my amazement, I found the sandy plain covered with a number of little mounds, entirely composed of Moa bones; it appeared to me to be a regular necropolis of the race.

I found the natives of the West Coast were totally ignorant of the name given on the other side of the island, the Tarepo. It was here I first heard of the word “Moa.” I was struck with wonder at the sight, but lost no time in selecting some of the most perfect of the bones, and then considered what was to be done with them and where to bestow them. I had a box in which my supplies for the journey were carried, this I emptied and filled with the bones instead, to the amazement of my followers, who exclaimed, “What is he doing? What can he possibly want with those old Moa bones?” One suggested hei rongoapea (to make into medicine perhaps); to this the others consented, saying, koia pea (most likely).

This visit to the Waingongoro was the opening up of one of the most interesting fields of research for the naturalist. My enquiries after the Moa, and carrying off some of its bones, caused much talk among the natives. I was most anxious to obtain a skull of the bird. I was told there was a great one in a swamp some miles inland. I promised a large reward for it, and though they said I should have it they did not keep their word.

In reply to my questions about its size they told me it was quite as large as that of a horse, a sure proof that the bird had never been seen by any of those I spoke to. They, however, told me that these huge birds were formerly very abundant before the Europeans came, but they gradually diminished and finally disappeared. Their nests were made of the refuse of fern-root on which they fed, and they used to conceal themselves in the

koromiko (Veronica) thickets from which they were driven and killed by setting the thickets on fire; hence originated the saying, Te koromiko te nakau i tunu ai te moa (the Veronica was the tree which roasted the Moa). The koromiko when burnt emits a kind of rezin from its bark, which looks like grease, hence the origin of the saying, as all suppose the Moa to have been a very fat bird, which I should think was very questionable. When I next visited Waingongoro, expecting to carry off another load of Moa bones, I found, to my surprise, that they had disappeared. I afterwards heard that Mr. Mantell had passed that way after me, and had cleared the place of all worth taking. I seldom, however, travelled over the sandhills bordering the coast without finding some remains of the Moa, especially on those near the Wanganui Heads. On one occasion I found a large number of fine specimens, and being unable to take them with me on my journey I made a pile of them, carefully covering them up, and marking the spot, intending to remove them on my return, but when I came back I found every one had disappeared, some one else having found the prize and secured it.

One morning the chief John Williams brought me nearly a perfect skeleton of a very large Moa, which only wanted the skull to make it complete. The wind had blown away the sand from the old level, and upon it he found the bones, laid just as it had died, with the rings of the wind-pipe, and a heap of quartz pebbles which had once been in its gizzard. Thinking it highly probable a further search would enable me to find the skull, I rode to the spot and found my conjecture correct; the wind had removed the sand from a larger surface since my native friend had been there, and the first sight was a very gratifying one, there was the entire skull stretched out and partly imbedded in the clay soil, with the upper and lower bills quite complete. I found when I attempted to remove it that it was in a most friable state.

I succeeded, however, at last, and most carefully wrapped it up and placed it in the crown of my hat. I had scarcely remounted my horse before the animal began to buck-jump most violently; in an instant I found myself sprawling on the ground, with my treasure scattered about in innumerable fragments. Though in great pain I managed to collect some of the largest pieces, and amongst them the extremities of the upper and lower mandibles, which were afterwards sent to Professor Owen.

So abundant were Moa bones in former years that whenever a sandhill was shifted by the wind, and the old surface exposed, it was generally found to be strewed with the remains of the Moa, but the grand place to find them used to be in the shell-heaps—our Maori middens,—which form some of the most conspicuous objects on our western shores, where they stand out in bright relief amongst the sandhills. In the scarce months, which used to be called mangere mumu, the lazy grumbling season, the natives used to flock

down to the coast and subsist upon shell-fish or anything else they could find: sometimes a seal, more frequently a slave, and occasionally a Moa, whose bones are generally found entire, as they only are destitute of marrow. These are very interesting heaps, and well worth visiting as affording the means of reading some pages of Maori history in bygone days. The last visit which I paid to Waingongoro, was in 1866, in company with Sir George Grey. On our arrival there he asked me to show him the place where I discovered the great deposit of Moa bones in 1843. I took him at once to the place, and to my astonishment I found the hillocks almost as thickly covered with bones as when I first saw them; the wind had uncovered a lower stratum since my former visit. Several officers stationed at the neighbouring redoubt expressed their surprise when told the bones where those of the Moa. They had seen them times without number, but supposing them only beef bones, passed them without further notice. Several soldiers volunteered their services, and a great number of those old ovens were opened; all worked in good earnest, and no one more heartily than the Governor. It was quite amusing to see His Excellency grubbing up the old ashes, and carefully selecting what he thought worth carrying away.

A large cloth was spread on the ground, and the various articles found were piled upon it; these were of a very miscellaneous character, consisting not only of bones of the Moa, and fragments of its eggs, but of almost every other bird indigenous to these islands, including those of the kakapo and kiwi, with chert flakes, fragments of highly polished axes, and other articles. These ovens seem to have been made in a double line, and to have been used for many years, as each layer of ashes was separated by a thin stratum of sand from the one immediately below, and the number of them was very great. The natives informed me that when the Moa hunt was to take place, notice was given to the neighbouring places, inviting them all to the battue. The party then spread out to enclose as large a space as possible, and drive the birds from their haunts, then gradually contracting the line as they approached some lake, they at last rushed forward with loud yells and drove the frightened birds into the water, where they could be easily approached in canoes, and despatched without their being able to make any resistance. These Moa hunts were, doubtless, very destructive, as from the number of men employed, and the long lines of ovens, the slaughter must have been very great; and, in addition to this, from the large quantity of egg-shells, a clear proof is given that they were eagerly sought for and feasted upon. Thus, the poor birds had little chance of continuing their race. Another cause of their disappearance may be also mentioned, the extinction of the tuatara, the largest lizard existing on these islands, on which they are said to have fed, with other varieties of the same family, which since the introduction of the

carried away a very large collection of the best preserved Moa bones I have ever seen, and I have been a collector for many years. Several of these bones have bunches of sinews attached to them, and are in other respects so perfect, showing neither abrasion nor the slightest indication of having travelled even the shortest distance, that I could come to no other conclusion than that the gigantic birds to which these various sized bones belonged must have perished within the cave.

Very shortly after my arrival at Earnsclough I proceeded to visit the cave, accompanied by my son. We crossed the lower end of the Dunstan basin, and entered by a narrow gorge the once beautiful valley of the Conroy, now a hideous chaotic mass of alluvial workings. This valley contained rich auriferous deposits, and in course of the workings vast quantities of Moa bones were discovered at varying depths, from one to fifteen feet.

We passed Pipeclay Gully, in which was found the lower jaw of a Saurian in a perfect state of preservation. It is now in the possession of Dr. Thomson, of Clyde. The jaw is somewhat larger than, but in other respects similar to that which was found in the Glenmark swamp, and at present in the Canterbury Museum. About four miles from the gorge we turned suddenly to the right, and crossing the Conroy we commenced a gradual but oblique ascent of a spur of the Umbrellas. After attaining a height of about 800 feet above the Conroy we found our further course in this direction stopped by a wide and deep gully, the edge of which bristled with huge castellated-looking dark rocks, large slabs from which had slipped down and lay on the side of the gully. At the foot of one of the largest of these rocks, and in the centre of a platform about twenty yards square, one side of which formed the edge of the gully, we found the entrances to the cave, which are about twenty feet apart. We lighted our lamp, and descended by the perpendicular entrance, and, after some scrambling, we found ourselves on a landing place which was lighted from the other entrance, which was of an easy gradient, but so low that when we made our exit from it we were compelled to go on all fours. The roof between the entrances is composed of a rock, the upper surface of which is covered with a well-grassed turf. The stone shows no sign of recent displacement, and may have been in its present position for a thousand years. The floor of the landing place is composed of rubbish of various kinds, including partially charred Moa bones. It was not difficult to account for the charred bones; the shed from the scrub at the entrances had accumulated in the dry cave until such time as it fell a prey to our great grass fires. There was not the slightest indication of man having inhabited the cave. After leaving the landing place we entered what I may call the true cave. Here we found the gradient so steep that the fine dust which covered the floor of the cave to a considerable depth slipped down from under our feet like sand. And I may here remark

that each visit to the cave assists in choking up the lower part of the cave with this impalpable dust, which will yet have to be carefully removed and examined. Groping in this dust with my hands I found several bones and rolls of what I imagined to be the inner bark of a tree. I put a small piece of this in my pocket for examination, and on coming to daylight I was surprised to find that what I took for bark was reddish-brown Moa skin.

Observing a lateral passage, through which the wind was blowing freely, my son followed it in the hopes of finding an exit in the face of the gully. This horizontal passage led into the solid rock, and at right angles to the cave. My son was absent so long that I ceased to hear his voice. On his return he reported to me that he saw no bones, the floor of the passage being hard rock.

From the junction of this passage the cave descended at a very steep gradient, and at one place a wedge-shaped narrow rock compelled us to creep underneath, which was not difficult, as the floor was well covered with the fine dust which followed us as we advanced, filling up all interstices, and no doubt hiding many interesting objects from our view.

Soon afterwards we found ourselves at the bottom of the cave, and here I much regretted that I was not provided with a few inches of magnesium wire, as not only sound but light was absorbed in this den, so that I could hardly see a yard from the lamp.

My son, who was fossicking about with a piece of totara which he picked up in the cave, suddenly exclaimed, “I have found a nest,” and, true enough, from under a ledge he drew out grass and the remains of the eggs and birds, which are at present in the Museum on exhibition.

I remarked several pieces of totara in the cave, which would lead one to suppose that the totara tree grew on the platform, before the original mouth of the cave was closed by the rock which forms the roof of the present landing-place.

The neck of the Moa was found in that part of the cave above the junction with the lateral passage, and as there was always a current of dry air there, it may account for the neck being so well preserved.

On leaving the cave we proceeded to search the gully face of the rock for the ventilator. We were not long in finding a weather-worn funnel-shaped cave; the back orifice of this funnel was six inches in diameter; there was a strong in-draught through this aperture, which carried grass and light objects into the cave. We found a sound stick of totara in this cave, which is at least forty feet below the level of the platform. Above the ventilator, and on an inaccessible ledge of the rock, we saw a large piece of totara which had been left there since the parent tree had crashed in its fall against the face of the rock. With some difficulty we dislodged it by throwing large stones on it

There being no attendance at the appointed hour, nor for long after it, the indefatigable honorary secretary of the club, not caring for a lonely walk, abandoned the excursion. Mr. Blair and the writer arriving late, and each supposing the usual party to be ahead, undertook the ascent, and they presently joined one another. Mr. Blair, who has a keen eye for possible railway tracks wherever he goes, was, when I overtook him, engaged in noting the height of the barometer, with the view of estimating the elevation of the point he had reached. Similar observations were continued throughout our walk, which extended to a mile or so beyond the summit, and were repeated during the descent at most of the points adopted during the upward journey.

Coming down we noticed an increasing discrepancy between the two sets of observations, the new ones showing decreased atmospheric pressure. We were, of course, prepared to find that the barometer at the sea level had fallen during the afternoon, and expected that the reduction of our observations would give us much trouble in consequence, and probably be far from reliable as measurements of height. As we began to emerge from the narrower part of the gorge through which the Water of Leith flows, we found the difference between the first and second observations began to decrease, and finally, when we reached the sawmills, the two coincided, which was again the case at the intersection of Castle-street and Albany-street, where Mr. Blair made his first observation of the barometer. This curious phenomenon caused us some perplexity. After consideration I am inclined to attribute it to the effect of a fairly strong wind which was blowing from the S.W. when we started, but which subsided during the afternoon. In a valley so completely shut in as that of the Leith during its upper course, and descending so rapidly from the saddle, which lies at about 1,100 feet above the level of the sea, it is certain that a strong breeze blowing almost directly into it at the lower end must cause increased pressure in the lower strata of air.

The following is a list of our observations:—

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above, and will not think the subject one undeserving the attention of the Legislature.

In France the subject has long since been legislated on. By the 41st section of the law of 16th September, 1807, the government was empowered to make grants of sand-lands to individuals, under certain prescribed regulations for planting them; and also to undertake itself the work of reclaiming the soil, whether by plantation or otherwise, as might be considered necessary. Under certain circumstances, when the encroachment of sand on the property of any individual, without sufficient efforts on his part to arrest it, threatened to do any public injury, the law of 7th July, 1833, might be brought into operation, under which the said lands were valued by arbitration, and the government, paying the amount of valuation to the proprietor, took over the land, and dealt with it under the law of 1807. Later still, the government has adopted another auxiliary means of dealing with the matter, and now, through the intervention of the Conseils Généraux of the Provinces, makes grants of seeds of pines, etc., to the districts troubled with sand, and also makes grants of money to cultivators who have succeeded in arresting the sand over a certain area by means of the oyat.

Now as to the means generally adopted. The first place to commence plantation on is the generally level space between high-water mark and the foot of the downs, or sandhills, over which the sand, propelled by the wind, travels without stoppage. It is well not to operate on too extended a surface at once. The plants which are more especially suited to this purpose are those which not only can grow in the driest sand and live in an atmosphere impregnated with saline exhalations, and even with salt sea spray in high winds, but, above all, those whose roots have the property of spreading closely and compactly for considerable distances, and whose stems possess a toughness which preserves them for a lengthened period.

The following is the system which has been generally adopted in sowing: Take one-third (rather in number than in bulk) of seeds of the trees and shrubs you intend to sow, and to this add two-thirds of seeds of plants of as rapid a growth as possible, whose stems will shelter for the first few years the ligneous plants, and prevent their roots from becoming bare and exposed. The sowing should be thick and broadcast, and the seeds covered by a light harrowing. Then, to lessen the mobility of the soil, branches of trees, fresh cut, with their leaves on, or, in default of these, branches of broom or furze, are spread and fixed on the surface by means of pegs; these afford a shelter from the drifting effect of the wind and from the rays of the sun. If branches, etc., cannot be procured in a sufficient quantity, the following plan is adopted: Fascines of a tolerable thickness are united in lines and disposed chess-board fashion (like Maori taro beds), and the sowing is made. In a few years a

first line of plantation is made, and reclamation of sand-land proceeds rapidly behind it.

Cuttings are also made use of, especially of the Tamarix gallica, or tamarisk. The topinambour, or Jerusalem artichoke, is also very valuable, as also are the larger sun-flowers and the whole tribe of mesembryanthemums. The following plants are also worthy of notice, and may be employed with great advantage, viz. — Eryngium maritimum, or sea holly; Convolvulus soldanella, or sea bineweed; Glaucium luteum, or yellow-horned poppy; Euphorbia peplis, or purple spurge; furze, broom, and the sallow, may be also sown, though the former is far from advantageous in a plantation of trees, choking the young plants. But, for rapidly arresting the march of sand, and fixing it, the following plants have been found most efficacious, viz.—Arundo arenaria, or sand-reed, known in France as the “Oyat des Côtes du Nord”; Elymus arenarius, or sea grass, and rye grass. The oyat is infinitely superior to all the others. The best tree to sow is the Pinus maritima.

The season for planting or sowing must be that in which there is the greatest continued supply of moisture to allow time for growth of seeds, or striking of cuttings. New Zealand I consider peculiarly favourable as to climate for the reclamation of such lands.

I have by me some peculiarly valuable reports of M. Alexandre Adam, who undertook the reclamation of downs in the Pas de Calais on a very large scale for the Conseil Général of that department. They were sent me as a special favour by M. M. Vilmorin Andrieux, of Paris, who are friends and Paris agents of this gentleman. They cover from 1864 to 1869, both years inclusive, and are, I am informed by M. Vilmorin, unprocurable now, and invaluable from their information. From them I have obtained many of the details I have given you. He proceeds by sowing oyats and Pinus maritima, and conducts the matter with a view, not only to expenses of reclamation being covered, but to the reaping of a large profit. As the pines grow up they are thinned out, and forest trees, especially oak, birch, elm, and ash, planted. Within the first line of plantation seeds of these trees are sown together with the oyats and pines.

I may add that the poplar is found very valuable, both for sowing, planting, and multiplying by cuttings. In some places, where the sand was very deep and dry, M. Adam found that instead of sowing it was preferable to take large cuttings of poplar, set them one yard deep in the sand and two yards apart every way; these almost invariably struck, even on the highest sandhills, and in the most exposed situations where nothing else would grow. I trust this information will be found of service, and that some grounds may have been shown for urging on the Legislature the importance of following the example of the French legislature, who, by their wise action,

great a cost as to exclude the probability of their being carried out either by the residents on the flooded area or the Government; while there is one which has been mooted upon several occasions, but dismissed almost as soon as mentioned, which appears to me worthy of more consideration. Having had for some time the feeling, scarcely raised to the position of an opinion, that the proposal to form a store reservoir at the Taieri Lake had not received sufficient attention, I took the opportunity, while in that neighbourhood last December, of spending some hours in making a careful examination of the physical features at the outfall, and I now propose to investigate how far the damming back of the waters of that part would tend towards the prevention of those disastrous floods to which the Taieri plain has been subjected in late years. Unfortunately, I have not at command sufficient information either as to the rainfall or the configuration of the ground, to give exact quantities in dealing with the whole of this subject; but for purposes of preliminary enquiry we may find enough either from direct observation or from general laws which may bear upon the subject. In the following calculations I have been much indebted to the elaborate survey executed in connection with Mr. J. T. Thomson's report upon the subject in 1870, which has been kindly placed at my disposal. Other parts are filled in from the general map of the Province, and by personal observation.

Before considering the case I shall glance briefly at the nature and proportions of the evil, for without a knowledge of these we cannot judge of the feasibility of any proposed remedy.

Referring then to the map of Otago, we find that the lower Taieri plain lies at the mouths of the Taieri and Waipori rivers and the Silverstream, all discharging large quantities of water during floods, especially the former river, which has an outpour per minute through the gorge at Outram, even at its lowest, nearly equal to that of the Clyde in Scotland between Glasgow and Port Glasgow; but having a fall very much greater, the cross section is correspondingly less. By computing the drainage areas of these local rivers, we find that into the basin occupied by the Waipori and Waihola lakes, and the Taieri plain, there is discharged that portion of the rainfall over 2065 square miles of country, which has escaped evaporation or absorption by plants or porous strata, the relative areas being—

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The Silverstream being comparatively small, and the waters of the Waipori being discharged into the lake of that name, with an effect upon the floods

only in connection with the Taieri, I shall simply refer to them at that stage when we come to view the storage room on the lower parts of the plain, and shall devote this portion principally to the nature of the larger river and its floods.

A comparison of the Taieri with the chief rivers of Europe or North America will show that in proportion to the country drained it is much in excess of the most of these as a flood producer. Thus, while it pours down its water at the rate of 1.666 cubic yards in the second for each square mile drained above Outram, the Mississippi in flood flows only at the rate of 0.044; the Ohio, at its mouth, 0.122; and the Yazoo 0.372 cubic yards per square mile drained. In Great Britain, the Tyne is the only one which approximates to the Taieri in this respect, its rate of flood discharge being 1.12; but small streams which have been gauged in meadow land have yielded as much as 1.2. The Yellow River, in Ireland, is as high as 4.12. On the continent of Europe the Loire appears to be pre-eminent for its floods—yielding at Pont de Fleurs as much as 4.18 cubic yards per second for each mile drained. Many of the Indian rivers far exceed any of the above—the Irvitz, especially, delivering at the rate of 16.5 cubic yards per second for each square mile of its gathering ground.

Now these figures of course represent very rough comparisons between the several streams named, no two of which are alike in physical conditions, either as to amount of rainfall or configuration of drainage area; but in a general way they enable a classification to be made which may yet be further improved as information is gathered. Apart from the relative quantities of rainfall, there are many other circumstances which tend either to aid or impede floods. Thus a stream draining a large tract of country is much less liable to heavy floods than one draining a small one; and also the general nature of the country as to inclination has a most noticeable effect upon the rate at which the water finds its way to the river, and consequently a like effect upon the amount of its volume. Another most important consideration is the nature of the strata, or the amount of vegetation in the district drained; for when the rocks are of a close compact nature, with comparatively few joints or crevices, and the ground bears but little vegetation, the water will run quickly off; but where the ground is porous, and the vegetation rank, a much longer time will elapse before the underground basins are filled, and the ground so saturated as to shed the water off as the rain falls. Surface lakes have a comparatively greater effect in moderating floods than either of the above causes, by receiving the water as it comes from the creeks, and allowing it to spread in thin films instead of rushing down a river channel in deep volumes.

Having got these general results, we may now endeavour to examine

particularly the conditions of the Taieri drainage ground, with a view to ascertain, if possible, in what respects it facilitates the rapid discharge of the rain or melting snow, and it will then be seen that the chief features likely to promote this are the generally mountainous character of the catchment area, with the exception of the Upper Taieri plain, the steep inclination of the ridges, the nature of the rocks, and the general steep declivity of the bed between the upper and lower plains. On the other hand the upper of these plains forms a natural basin about 280 square miles in extent, but of this only about one and a half square miles are an open lake, the remainder being deposits of shingle of various depths lying upon impervious clay, and capable of being a store reservoir only to the extent of the interstices between the stones. That portion, in fact, resembles a huge sponge, acting with the open lake in retaining the water, and preventing to a certain extent its sudden rush down the channel towards the lower parts. The lake lies at the flank of the Lammerlaw or Rock and Pillar range; and finds along with the Kyeburn an outlet through a narrow gorge, at one place not wider than 110 feet, but unfortunately its low level limits the capacity of the whole reservoir as a flood moderator. The point now is, to consider the practicability of raising that outlet to such an extent as to store the greatest flood waters that are likely to occur, and release them only at such a rate as shall not be prejudicial to the low grounds lying below Outram.

The flood of 4th February, 1868, being the greatest on record, I shall take as the standard one, seeing that it is necessary in any remedial works that may be proposed to provide against the occurrence of an evil at least equal to that already experienced.

The circumstances of rainfall attending the floods of January and February of that year, at least so far as we can judge the Taieri basin by observations taken at Dunedin, were almost such as to lead us to expect that no such floods are likely to occur for very many years. Upon examination of the meteorological tables prepared by Dr. Burns and the Meteorological Department, it will be found that the unprecedented nature of the January and February floods was more owing to the extreme degree of saturation in which the ground must have been by months of previous rain, than to even the heavy rains of any one particular day. Doubtless these were very heavy, but not so much so as several days both before and since, which did not produce the same rise in the water. For the months of October, November, December, January and February, the rainfall ranged from 5.0 to 8.078 in., thus showing a continuance of wet weather unequalled, I believe, in the history of the settlement. In the case of the flood of January, 1870, which did not rise so high as the one we are specially considering, the rainfall recorded in one day exceeded that shown upon 4th February, 1868, but that

followed some months of comparatively dry weather, though it commenced one showing a total of 7.399 in.

Floods may also suddenly arise after a drought, from the fact of some kinds of soil being so thoroughly baked as to have a surface almost as impervious to rain as rock itself, and thus it delivers the water almost as it falls; but such floods will be of short duration, and only until the surface has had time to soften a little and allow the usual amount of soakage.

I have referred to the rainfall at Dunedin, because unfortunately we have no records of its amount for the Taieri basin, and if we were wanting to go minutely into the matter, as we shall see immediately, the rain gauge in this city would be apt to mislead rather than enable us to arrive at correct results. Those who have paid any attention to meteorology must be aware of the great diversity of rainfall in different districts, even within a few miles of each other, and consequently of the necessity for separate observations in various localities, if any practical result of value is to be evolved. We are safe enough, however, in taking the evidence of the Dunedin observations to prove generally a season of unexampled moisture within the Taieri basin; but it will be seen by a study of the figures representing the flow of the Taieri during the flood of 1868, that for particular occasions they are of little value. Thus, for the flood of January 28th, a fall of 1.648 in. was shewn, yet that did not raise the Taieri river so much as a fall registered as 1.37 in. did a few days afterwards. This, however, does not completely prove the position that the Dunedin register is different from what the Taieri one would be, for it is still possible that the whole area of the gathering ground was not saturated to its fullest extent on the 28th January, so that a greater degree of saturation, as on 4th February, would greatly aid the rain of the latter date in producing a flood greater than the one a few days previous. Better proof, however, is found in referring to the delivery by the river at Outram, which, as recorded by Mr. Thomson, was at the rate of 4,653,068 cubic feet per minute; which would show a fall at the rate of 1.67 in., instead of 1.37, even with the whole water run off to the river just as it fell. Even this, however, is not quite satisfactory, for it is quite possible, and indeed likely, that in both localities there was a space of time—perhaps extending to hours—in which the rainfall was of greater intensity than even the higher of these sums represents. As it is impossible, however, to have the records for each few hours, we must generalize from the most frequent, viz., those for each twenty-four hours.

I shall now endeavour to ascertain the length of time which may be considered as the duration of the flood, or how many hours elapsed between the moment when the banks overflowed, and the outlet to the sea was too small to allow the whole waters which were issuing upon the plain, and the Waipori and Waihola lakes, to pass off.

For this purpose it will be necessary, in the absence of particular data, to assume that the Waipori river and Silverstream delivered their waters at the same rate as the Taieri, in proportion to area; and for the general purpose of this investigation that will be enough. This would show a total outpour from these sources of 5,532,900 cubic feet per minute; and deducting from that amount 1,186,900 cubic feet, which could flow towards the sea, the amount of water which would be dammed back would be 4,548,000 cubic feet per minute, representing the rate of rise of the flood. But it has been ascertained that on this occasion 4,585,996,800 cubic feet were the total flood waters, so that dividing the one quantity by the other we would have a period of flood equal to seventeen and a half hours. Of course, this is to be regarded as simply a hypothetical statement which will represent only the average rise and length of time resulting from that, for it is very likely that the rise would be at this rate only for a few hours, which would consequently necessitate a more lengthened period to produce the same total accumulation from a smaller rate of increase.

We have now to consider the amount of water which it would be desirable to prevent flowing upon the plain by the Taieri river, in order that the floods may not attain to such an extent as to overflow the banks. It has been found that the damage caused about the West Taieri has been the consequence of the small section of the river further down not being sufficient to carry off the whole waters as they arrived; and it has been shown by Mr. Thomson that the smallest section has been able to pass down 1,173,744 cubic feet per minute; but it might not be safe to charge it with even this quantity, so we will leave a considerable margin by taking it only to the extent of 900,000 cubic feet, looking to store the remainder in the Upper Taieri lake, or upon some of the tributaries of the river, such as the Deep, the Sutton, and the Lee streams. It will be observed that this makes no provision for the waters of the Silverstream, or the Waipori river. The first of these could probably be stored in the lagoon near its junction with the main river, and which is evidently the natural flood moderator of that stream, or in some reservoir higher up; while the large flow from the Waipori would be allowed to spread over that and the Waihola lakes. The general result, then, may be arrived at thus:—

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So that the flood, under these conditions, would accumulate at the rate of 443,000 cubic feet per minute, which would spread over the areas of these two lakes, and raise their surface about three feet nine inches in a twenty-four hours flood. Even though there were such a rise, no serious damage would result to the adjoining lands; but in this calculation there are two elements, which are taken at extreme figures, viz., the length of time, and the rate of discharge by the Waipori, which is much in excess of that estimated by Mr. Thomson, so that we may reasonably presume that even under such circumstances as those of the 1868 floods, the rise would be very much less than that I have stated.

The quantity to be stored above Outram would evidently be the difference between the largest flood delivery there in the 1868 floods, and the quantity which I have already named as likely to get past the least capable section of the river, between there and the East Taieri bridge, amounting to 3,200,000 cubic feet per minute. Now this would be derived from different districts, the comparative areas of which are—

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But the configuration of the country to the east of the river is unfavourable for storing a large quantity of water upon any of the tributary gullies, and the basin of the Taieri lake is more favourable, so that we must calculate upon having none upon the eastern portion, but store a correspondingly larger amount upon the Taieri lake. Taking therefore three-fourths of the total for that part, and the remaining fourth to be stored in small reservoirs upon the Sutton, Deep, and Lee streams, the Taieri lake would require to have its outlet so raised as to enable it to store as much as 3,002,400,000 cubic feet in eighteen hours. Now the area of that lake and part of the Kyeburn valley which would be affected so far up as the present ford on the Dunedin road is about 91,846,260 square feet, so that the increase of depth would amount to thirty-four feet. This additional depth would be required over the whole area named; but owing to the fall of the valleys, this could not be got on an average without raising the dam to a height above the bank at the bridge, and thus requiring a considerable extension in length. Probably a more economical method might be by a smaller dam at that part, and other two at the outlets from the lake proper, by which means sufficient storage might possibly be obtained for the waters of floods less than that of February, 1868, and also sufficient to reduce a similar one to safe limits, for if they

could be kept back for even twelve hours, their most destructive effects would be moderated. It would also be necessary to have reservoirs upon the Sutton, Deep, and Lee streams, perhaps more so than in the Taieri, in proportion to their areas, as the features of their catchment basins are such as to show many indications of rapid flood-producing streams.

The mode of flood prevention I have examined in this paper is one which has been much adopted upon the continent of Europe, and notably upon the river Loire, which I have already referred to as standing remarkably high as a flood-producer. Above the particular part where the discharge I have referred to was gauged, we have seen that it ranks nearly three times as intense as the Taieri; yet to moderate these waters a weir sixty-five feet high was erected in 1711, which did immense service in the floods of 1846. They topped it, however, by a height of about five feet, but were still sufficiently restrained to lessen considerably the damage which otherwise would have been sustained.

The advantages which the prevention of the flow of the waters upon the lower plain possesses over any scheme of embankment, either along the present channel or any new one, are so evident as scarcely to require remark. Besides being much cheaper, it possesses an advantage in this, that even if carried out to a partial extent it produces general benefit to all the land which has hitherto been liable to inundation; but by the method of embankment upon the plain, intended to shut the water off particular parts, these portions are protected only by aggravating the evil upon other spots, both by the increased depth of the water and the heightened current.

One objection to this method has been so often urged that, paradoxical though it may appear, I believe that had it been founded upon facts, they would, ere this, have been recognized as an argument for its immediate adoption. I refer to the belief that, supposing such a work were erected, the lake would quickly be silted up by tailings derived from the diggings, so that the bottom being raised the weir would speedily become useless. Now the area proposed to be occupied by the reservoir is presently about as much exposed to those deposits as it would be then, and though some parts are so acted upon to a considerable extent, yet had the evil been of such proportions as to be practically felt, a necessity would have existed ere this for the immediate erection of a weir at the outlet, to counteract the shoaling process, and thus prevent a more rapid discharge of the water than would be consistent with its natural condition. An examination of the locality, however, would convince anyone that there is but little to fear from this evil assuming dangerous proportions; for, taking the Naseby diggings alone, it will be seen that even after about nine years of extensive sluicing operations, during which the heaviest flood on record has been experienced, the greatest distance to

Fig. 1.

As the rays of light from the heavenly bodies may be practically taken as parallel, it is evident that this is the theoretical figure for the specula of reflecting telescopes, for then only can all the rays of light be reflected to one point (F).

It will be observed that this curve, near its vertex, approaches to, although it cannot perfectly coincide with, the figure of the sphere.

Now as this curve is a varying one it is clear that no grinding and polishing can mathematically produce the parabolic figure; but as the curve in a sphere is invariable, therefore the spherical figure is first imparted to the ordinary speculum, and this is then modified empirically so that it shall approach to the parabolic figure.

In this manner specula have been constructed whose diameters equal one-sixth of their focal length, but as the parabolic curve rapidly departs from the spherical it is evident that reflecting telescopes of large aperture on the ordinary construction must be of great length and cumbrous in their management. There is also a difficulty in giving them a perfect and durable polish, and then mounting them so that they shall neither be affected by changes of temperature nor deflection of different parts, from their great weight.

The telescope here described has been constructed with a view of surmounting some of these difficulties; its speculum may be said to be cast in Nature's mould, as its figure is determined by the action of those “Laws of Motion,” the truth of which were enunciated, and their universality demonstrated by Newton.

Let any liquid be rotated in a vessel, with a given velocity, on an axis which has been adjusted perpendicular to the horizon. After a short time all the forces will be in equilibrium, and the fluid will assume a fixed position. As the surface is free to move, it must, at every point taken upon it, be perpendicular to the resultant of the forces acting upon it at that point.

Fig. 2.

Let the curved line (Fig. 2) be a section of the rotating surface made by a plane passing through N V, the axis of rotation.

Let P be any point taken on it. If P M be drawn at a right angle to the vertical axis N V, it is evident that during the motion of the point P will describe a circle in a horizontal plane whose centre is M. In consequence of this circular motion, a centrifugal force will be developed, pressing against

the surface in the direction PC. Let PC represent this force; but P is also subject to another force, namely, its own weight acting vertically downwards, which we may suppose represented by PQ; the resultant of these, therefore, PR, is the whole force acting on P, and so must be perpendicular to the surface, and therefore to the curve. To prove that this curve is parabolic—

NM: MP:: PQ: QR (=PC).

NM: MP:: Weight P: Centrifugal force.

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But the dynamical measure of the force of gravity at this latitude is 32.17, expressed in feet every second, and of the latter force 4n² r/t³(see note),n representing 3.1416, or the semi-circumference of a circle whose radius is 1, t being the number of seconds in one revolution, and r the radius=MP.

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∴ NM: r:: 32.17: 4n² r/t²

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consequently 32.17r ÷ 4ⁿ² r/t²= 32.17 × = 8.04 ^t2/4n²= NM.

The line NM thus determined is called the sub-normal to the curve at the point P, and when the angular velocity of rotation is constant then the sub-normal is also constant in length, no matter in what part of the curve the point P is situated. This property belongs exclusively to the parabola. Hence the surface of a fluid rotating on an axis perpendicular to the horizon is a paraboloid.

To determine then the length of NM for different times of rotation—

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Now that part of a paraboloid where a ray of light parallel to the axis will be reflected along a line forming a right angle to the axis must itself be inclined at an angle of 45°, consequently such reflected ray will, when it meets the axis, have traversed a distance equal to the length of the subnormal, therefore at that part of the curve the two forces, namely gravity and centrifugal force, have the same measure, for they are represented in magnitude and direction by different sides of the same square.

Moreover this particular ray is the only one which will be reflected in a horizontal direction along the parameter of the paraboloid until it meets the axis in the focus of the curve. And since the distance FV equals the half FP' it also equals half NM, by which we can obtain the focal length of the telescope for any velocity.

Fig. 3.

Within the range of our acquaintance with nature we have one remarkable and brilliant metal which

at ordinary temperatures exists in the liquid state, and we possess in mercury, and possibly its amalgams, a surface of imperishable lustre; and, when its equilibrium is established, then its perfection of surface may be safely taken to be such as no human skill could produce upon other metals, for no magnifying power, even that of the most powerful microscope, would be able to exhibit its surface by its irregularities.

In telescopes of this description it is required: first, to construct a circular axis and concentric cup; second, to fix it parallel to gravitation; third, to give it an equable angular velocity. In the model before us will be seen the degree of approximation attained to these requirements. It consists of an upright steel axis about four inches long, the bottom of which rests on a fixed conical pivot, while the upper part (which has been ground circular) is kept in one position by a collar also ground circular. This collar admits of lateral adjustment by screws, which should work on the differential principle. On the top of the axis is fixed a flat disc or cup of beeswax which admits of being easily turned true on the spindle itself, and surrounding this disc is a fly wheel. In working this telescope it is first placed on a fixed base, and then levelled by placing a spirit level across the cup, turning the cup round and adjusting the screws till the bubble remains fixed. The axis is then truly perpendicular, and sufficient mercury is then poured into the cup and rotation communicated to it by any suitable power, in this instance a small electromagnetic engine, the velocity of which is regulated by a conical pendulum.

We are now enabled to examine the printing placed on the ceiling of this room by magnifying its image, which is formed in the focus, by looking down into the mirror through the eye-piece; although the mirror is rather small for this method of view, as the observer's head cuts off those rays which descend nearest to the perpendicular, and which should consequently give the most distinct definition, the rays moreover are not strictly parallel as they would be if we were viewing a heavenly body, still we are enabled to judge of its capabilities by the definition it gives of these letters. When such an instrument is used for astronomical purposes the observations of course require to be made an object at, or within a few degrees from the zenith, these are always to be preferred for distinctness, on account of the rays traversing the shortest section of the atmosphere, the sweep of the telescope in Right Ascension being made by the earth's rotation.

It may be thought that we are debarred from obtaining a view of any part of the visible heavens at any given time by the use of a horizontal speculum, but such is not the case, for if the rays of light from any celestial body be first received on a large plane mirror at such an angle of incidence that the reflected rays shall descend vertically, such reflected rays will preserve their parallelism, and the paraboloid will collect and reflect them upwards to the

eye-piece through an aperture left in the plane reflector. This is perforated to allow of a small telescope or finder to be used, or the finder can be placed at the side of the mirror as in Fig. 4. Let both plane mirror and finder have a vertical motion on a horizontal axis common to both, then since “the angle between the first and last direction of a ray of light suffering two reflections in the same plane, is twice the angle of the reflecting surfaces to each other,” and because the first direction of the ray is the same as the finder, and the last direction is towards the zenith, it follows that the angular motion of the finder must be twice that of the plane reflector; this is easily accomplished, and in such a manner that by merely turning the finder on to an object the reflector shall move through its proper angle.

Fig. 4.

Let AA (Fig. 4) represent a platform fixed above the speculum, H is a rod working an endless screw which turns a horizontal racked wheel, B, rotating on rollers running in grooves between the platform and the wheel. This wheel carries the pillars II, consequently the mirror, C, and the finder, D, move in azimuth with equal velocities. The mirror is firmly braced on to the tube, TT, which carries with it the wheel, E, and E turns another broad wheel, F, which turns with the same speed as E, for that part of it which receives motion from E is equal to E. The other part of F has such a diameter as will give a motion to the wheel, G, of double the velocity of E. The ratios of the diameters of these wheels are E = 6, small part of F = 6, large part of F = 8, and small wheel G = 4. The dotted line represents a strong rod or axis, which also goes through the tube T. To this axis the wheel, G, and the finder, D, are firmly keyed. The finder is attached to, and moved in altitude by another racked wheel, also turned by an endless screw, K; then, whatever angular motion in altitude is imparted to the finder, the mirror shall receive one-half thereof. The eye piece is fixed near E, and is supported by connection with the pillars so as to be independent of any vertical motion of the mirror.

Such an arrangement gives the same degree of illumination as is given by the Newtonian telescope, there are two reflections, with this difference, that the light from the object is first received on the plane mirror instead of on

the concave one, and thus by simply turning the plane reflector on its axis we are saved the cumbrous alternative of moving the whole tubular length of the telescope in order that it may point to the object to be observed. In large instruments this must be a very important desideratum. Let us suppose a telescope twenty feet in diameter: ordinarily this would require tubing at least 120 feet in length, and provision would be required for its sweeping through 300 feet of motion; whereas with the horizontal speculum, a circular building thirty feet in diameter and about sixty feet high would furnish ample space, and also allow the observer, without changing his position, to work entirely under shelter.

In such an instrument the friction is reduced to a minimum by perfecting the bearing of a single axis, consequently little power is required for continuing its rotation.

I may remark that I have used, with good effect, the regular flow of water through a small turbine, in order to impart to the speculum an equal angular velocity. By merely altering the velocity we are enabled to shorten or lengthen the telescope, and in a few seconds the mercury attains its equilibrium, and not only the parts near the vertex are parabolic, but those also which extend to the parameter, and to any distance we like to go above, leaving out of consideration a very slight deviation caused by the earth's sphericity, which would impart a slight tendency to the hyperbolic curve, but which, even in immense instruments, would be so minute as to be within the power of correction by the eye-piece of the telescope.

It also follows that the focus can be observed by looking upwards, if the vertex of the curve be removed, and those parts only used which are above its parameter.

As it is of immense importance that we should be able to concentrate a large beam of light for examination of the distant nebulæ, and especially for spectroscopic investigations, it is not improbable that the use of such an instrument, constructed on a large scale, would extend our knowledge of the natural heavens, for notwithstanding all the discoveries made in the great cosmic problems of creation, still, that we may be enabled to travel further into what is as yet the dark profound, and to gaze with bodily eye on what now form the manifold mysteries of the universe, must be the ardent wish of every lover of science.

Note.—That the above expressions are the dynamical measures of gravity and centrifugal force is thus shown:—

In circular motion the centripetal and centrifugal forces are everywhere equal. Let the arc AB be described in one second; draw BE perpendicular to AS; then in one second the body originally at A will have fallen from its wonted straight path, AM, a distance = AE towards the attractive force at

in the “English Mechanic,” Vol. 10, pp. 208, 330 and 357. The diameter of the reflecting speculum is 5.⅞ in., and the focal length 4 ft. 9.¾ in. The total length of the tube, which is made of galvanized iron, being 5 ft. 9 in., and its diameter 6.¼ in. The telescope is mounted on an equatorial counterpoise stand, with simple rack motion worked by hand, and on clear nights gives definition up to 300 diameters. The instrument was constructed in spare time, extending over eighteen months, but the real time employed if it was steadily worked at would occupy about six weeks. A second instrument, on the same principle, but with a 9 in. speculum, and 7 ft. focus, has also been constructed with the same machinery by Mr. J. Widdup, the speculum of which is also exhibited. The chief portion of the time was occupied in making the speculum, the remainder of the work being of an ordinary mechanical character. In making the speculum there are five distinct processes: rough-grinding, fine-grinding, polishing, parabolizing and silvering.

(a.) The first step is to construct an iron tool having the required curvature, the model from which this is cast being made in the following manner:— With a radius of double the length of the proposed focus curved gauges or templates were cut in zinc, from which the wooden model is turned, and the casting made. The tool was then fixed firmly on an upright pillar, and covered with coarse emery powder. The glass for the speculum, which in this case was originally the side light of a steamer ¾ in. thick, was then fixed to a board and laid on the tool with a 28 lbs. weight on the top, and ground by a pulling and pushing motion round the pillar until it conformed to the test of the convex gauge.

(b.) Fine Grinding.—To effect this the surface of the convex iron tool was cut by cross grooves which divide its surface into squares, the object of which is to diffuse the fine emery evenly over the surface, and so produce accuracy of figure. Before proceeding, however, the curve of the tool was perfected by what is termed file-testing. A few drops of coloured oil were first spread on the surface of the rough ground speculum, which was then laid gently on the tool so as to leave a mark on those portions which required filing—a delicate process, which had to be repeated over and over again till every part of the surface of the tool was equally marked with the oil. Before proceeding to fine-grind the speculum it was necessary to make what is termed the test-bar, to be used in an after process. This is a slip of cardboard, with parallel edges fixed on a rod, the surface of which is made accurately to fit the curve of the speculum. To proceed with the fine-grinding the tool and speculum were mounted on a machine contrived so as to give four distinct motions:—1. A slow rotation to the grinding tool. 2. Direct back and forward stroke. 3. A transverse stroke. 4. Free rotation to the speculum on its own axis. This machine is a cheap, but quite serviceable, form of that which was designed by

Lord Rosse for grinding his metallic speculum. Flower emery was used for fine-grinding, made into the thickness of cream with water, and spread evenly over the surface of the squares into which the surface of the tool was divided. The machine was then driven at about sixty revolutions per minute, the emery that escaped being collected, washed, and precipitated. This process was repeated four times, a finer degree of emery being obtained by allowing it a longer time to settle in each instance; the last time the emery being so fine that it took twenty-four hours to settle from the water, which was then drawn off by a glass syphon. When the fine-grinding was completed the surface of the speculum looked like plate-glass covered with a milky film, no grain being visible with a magnifying glass.

(c.) Polishing.—To effect this the iron tool was faced with pitch ¾ in. thick, divided into squares by grooves in a similar manner to the iron tool itself. The soft surface of the pitch when warm was moulded by the glass speculum so as to fit correctly, and then covered with rouge purified from grit by washing and settling in the same manner as the emery. The polishing was then done on the same machine as the fine grinding, and occupied six hours of continuous work, so that no change in the form of the pitch surface should take place through great alteration of temperature. The utmost care had to be exercised to prevent any dirt settling on the tool during this part of the process.

(d.) Parabolizing.—The curve of the speculum produced by the above process was such that on being mounted on the tube it gave imperfect definition. To correct this, and to give the surface the perfect curve, was the most important and delicate part of the whole process, and formerly was effected only with great difficulty. The use of the test bar already alluded to, which is the invention of Mr. Purkiss, enables it to be done with comparative facility. The strip of cardboard was fixed with the curved wood on the face of the speculum. A star was then viewed with the eye-piece out of focus, so as to get an enlarged disc of light crossed by a black band caused by the testbar. The edges of this band were found to be curved instead of straight, and all that was required to produce a proper curve was to modify the polishing surface of the tool by repeated trials until it imparted such a form to the speculum that the image of the test bar had parallel edges. This was done by scraping down the squares of the pitch on the surface of the tool so as to make them proportionally larger or smaller, at the centre or margin, as experience required. By this simple process a correction of the curve amounting to only one-millionth of an inch can be made.

(e.) Silvering.—The speculum having been thus polished to a true curvature could be used for observation in the same manner as a metallic speculum, but there was, of course, a great loss of light owing to the transparency of the glass.

he probably considers it to be the result of inattention on the part of the helmsman. One of the greatest difficulties which the navigator of the present day has to contend against arises from the magnetic changes which take place in iron-built ships on every change of latitude, especially in places where the dip of the needle or magnetic latitude varies rapidly. These changes affect the compass in a proportionate amount, and in cases where no special care has been observed in the selection of a place for the compass by which the ship is navigated the changes in the deviation become a source of great anxiety to the mariner. It appears to me that considerable advantages in this respect would arise from the increased employment of steel-built ships. During the process of building the common iron-built ship becomes highly magnetised by induction, but does not become a really permanent magnet—it has more the properties of what is termed sub-permanent magnetism. A vessel built of steel must, however, become a permanent magnet during the process of building, and I think there would be much less change in the magnetic character of this vessel than in the one built of iron, because the changes would be due to hard iron only, while in the iron ship it arises from both hard and soft iron. In the case of the steel ship the change takes place in the inverse ratio of the horizontal force, while in the vessel built of iron the change arises from this, and is also for soft iron in the ratio of the dip. In this colony there is a difference of about ten degrees of magnetic latitude between Auckland and the Bluff, and as the soft iron is the part most affected by change of latitude it is evident that if it is of considerable amount its effect upon the compass will be marked. I will now suppose that the co-efficients have been found for a vessel at the Bluff, and that A = — 1°, B = + 15°, C = — 6°, D = + 3° 30°, E = — 0° 30°, and that it has been ascertained that there are + 3° to be allowed for vertical induction in soft iron, then at Auckland B will have decreased to + 5° 42° and C to — 4° 30°, and the deviations of the compass from which the co-efficients were obtained will have decreased at North 1° 46°, at N.E., 5° 28°, or half a point, and at East, 9° 18°, or very nearly seven-eighths of a point; and if the vessel was steered to make an east course near Auckland, using the same deviation as at Bluff, the result would be that the vessel would be directed nearly one point too much to the southward, which would, in so short a distance as five miles, cause an error in the assumed position of one mile, or twenty per cent in the estimated distance. I have omitted all notice of heeling error in this instance, which, as already shown, may be such as to very seriously interfere with the navigation of the ship if guided by an uncompensated compass. The Government steam vessel “Luna” being built of steel enables me to bring forward a case in point. The co-efficients of this vessel have been ascertained from observations made in Auckland by Mr. Stewart, C.E., whose ever careful work I am glad of an opportunity of

As an illustration of the above facts, quotations are given in the following table from various vocabularies:—

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Some of the races have a radically different numeral, such as ji, Kayan (Borneo); hijee, Prince's Island (Sunda); sigi, Java; kaou, Isle of Moses; parai, New Caledonia, etc.

The numeral “two” is expressed by a word radically the same by all the Barata races; the following of which are examples, showing their variations, such as:—rua, Maori; rua, Malagasi; dua, Malay; lorou, Java; dalova, Tagala; o'looa, Ceram; wa roo, New Caledonia; looa, Friendly Islands; E rooa, Otaheite; bo hooa, Marquesas. Divergence from the above rule is limited, and of which the following are examples:—Etji, Vialo (Timor); woror, Kissa; bore Tenimbar.

The numeral “three” is radically similar in all the races, with the exception of Malay and some in Melanesia and the Timor group, as the following examples will demonstrate:—torou, Maori; tulloo, Malagasi; tloo, Acheen; tulloo, Lampong; toloo, Batta; tellou, Rejang; tallu, Prince's Island; tullu, Java; ytlo, Tagala; atlo, Papango; tulu, Mindanao; tulloa, Savu; o toloo, Ceram; toloa, Isle of Moses; tolu, New Guinea (coast); tolou, Horn Islands; tulou, Isle of Cocos; toloo, Friendly Islands; tooroa, Island of Amsterdam; torhoa, Society and Sandwich Islands; toroo, Otaheite; a toroa, Marquesas; toroo, Easter Island

Examples of radical divergences are as follows:—tiga, Malay; kior, Papua; wat een, New Caledonia; ekei, Malicolo; ka har, Tanna; utue, Vialo; wokil, Kissa; lasi, Arru, etc

The numeral “four” has wider acceptance than the numeral three, being similarly expressed by all races, excepting two in Papuanesia and three in the Timor group. The following are examples of the form of expression in its variations:—t'fa, Maori; efar, Malagasi; ampat, Malay; paat, Acheen; ampah, Lampong; oput, Batta; m'pat, Rejang; opat, Prince's Island; pappat, Java; apat, Tagala; apat, Papango; apat, Mindanao; uppu, Savu; opatoo, Ceram; wati, Isle of Moses; patta, New Guinea (coast); ebats, Malicolo;

ka fa, Tanna; d'fa, Horn Islands; fa, Isle of Cocos; t'fa, Friendly Islands; a'faa, Amsterdam Island; ha, Otaheite and Sandwich Islands; a faa, Marquesas; fa, Easter Island; pat, Kayan (Borneo), etc.

Examples of radical divergences are as follows:—tiak, Papua (New Guinea); par bai, New Caledonia; wo ahka, Kissa; ka, Arru, etc.

By reference to the table the number “five” will be seen to have the most extensive diffusion of any in a radically similar expression, there being only one exception to this. The following are examples of the above numeral:— reema, Maori; limi, Malagasi; lima, Malay; lumung, Acheen; leema, Lampong; leemah, Batta; lema, Rejang; limah, Prince's Island; limo, Java; lima, Tagala; lima, Papango; lima, Mindanao; lumee, Savu; o leema, Ceram; rima, Isle of Moses; lima, New Guinea (coast); rim, Papua; wan nim, New Caledonia; e reem, Malicolo; ku rirrom, Tannah; lima, Horn Islands; lima, Isle of Cocos; neema, Friendly Islands; neema, Amsterdam Island; h lemi, Sandwich and Society Islands; a aeema,. Marquesas; reema, Easter Island; lima, Rotti; limi, Vialo; walima, Kissa; wa lima, Tenimbar; au lim, Keh; lima, Arru, etc. The sole exception is in Coepang, ni being the expression.

The number “six” is another of the most widely diffused under a similar expression. The common form with variations will be seen to be as follows:—oné, Maori; oné, Malagasi; anam, Malay; annam, Lampong; onam, Batta; noom, Rejang; num, Acheen; anim, Tagala; anam, Papango; anom, Mindanao; unna, Savu; eno, Isle of Moses; onim, Papua; houno, Isle of Cocos; vano, Friendly Islands, whaine, Sandwich and Society Islands; a ono, Marquesas; honoo, Easter Island; anam, Kayan; wanam, Kissa; walem, Tenimbar; annam, Keh. The radical exceptions are gunnap, Prince's Island; o loma, Ceram; houw, Horn Islands; ne, Rotti, etc.

The Maori expression for “seven” is not so generally diffused as that for six, yet it, with its variations, is the general rule among the Barata races. The following are examples:—wheetoo, Maori; feetoo, Malagasi; peetoo, Lampong; paitoo, Batta; petu, Java; pito, Tagala; pitu, Papango; petoo, Mindanao; petoo, Savu; o peeto, Ceram; fitu, New Guinea; fitou, Isle of Cocos; fidda, Friendly Islands; hitoo, Sandwich and Society Islands; a wheetoo, Marquesas; heedoo, Easter Island; hitu, Rotti; hi it, Coepang.

The radical exceptions are:—tudju, Malay; toojoo, Acheen; toojoo, Rejang; tudju, Prince's Island; tik, Papua; tusyu, Kayan; wo iko, Kissa; wa ite, Tenimbar; au fit, Keh; duhem, Arru.

To the Maori expression for “eight,” the same remarks apply as to seven, as may be seen by the following examples:—warou, Maori; varlo, Malagasi; ovalloo, Lampong; ovalloa, Batta; wolo, Java; valo, Tagala; valo, Papango; walu, Mindanao; arvo, Savu; o aloo, Ceram; wala, New Guinea; war, Papua; walou, Island of Cocos; varoo, Friendly Islands; wallhoa, Sandwich and

Society Islands; a waoo, Marquesas; varoo, Easter Island; falu, Rotti; fa'au, Coepang, etc.

The radical exceptions are:—delapan, Malay; d'luppan, Acheen; delapoon, Rejang; delapan, Prince's Island; saya, Kayan; kafar, Vialo; wo ah, Kissa; karua, Arru, etc.

There is the same degree of accordance in the expression of the numeral “nine” that there is in seven and eight, as the following examples will show:—eeva, Maori; seeva, Malagasi; seewah, Lampong; seeah, Batta; siyam, Tagala; siam, Papango; seaow, Mindanao; saio, Savu; siwa, Isle of Moses; siwa, New Guinea; siou, Papua; yerou, Isle of Cocos; heeoa, Friendly Islands; iva, Society and Sandwich Islands; a eeva, Marquesas; heeva, Easter Island; siu, Rotti; seu, Coepang; siwa, Vialo; wa siawa, Tenimbar; au siu, Keh.

The exceptions are as follows:—sambilan, Malay; sa koorong, Acheen; sembilan, Rejang; salapun, Prince's Island; songo, Java; o teeo, Ceram; pitan, Kayan; wohi, Kissa; teri, Arru.

The number “ten” is nearly as common to all the Barata races as the numeral five, and it is only in the Timor group that radical differences take place, as will be seen from following examples:—Anga hourou, Maori; fooloo, Malagasi; sapuloo, Malay; saploo, Acheen; pooloo, Lampong; sapooloo, Batta, de pooloo, Rejang; sapoulo, Prince's Island; supoulo, Java; pulo, Tagala; apalo, Papango; san poulo, Mindanao; singooroo, Isle of Savu; o pooloo, Ceram; sanga poulo, Isle of Moses; sanga foula, New Guinea; on ge foula, Isle of Cocos; ango fooroo, Friendly Islands; houlhoa, Sandwich and Society Islands; whanna hoo, Marquesas; attu hooroo, Easter Island; sanga hulu, Rotti; pulo, Kayan.

The radical exceptions are:—ho es, Coepang; ta ana, Vialo; ita weli, Kissa; aluli, Tenimbar; wut, Keh, etc.

It will be seen that in numerals radically similar the variations have been principally caused by the conversion of sibilants, dentals, aspirates, and palatals into each other, or by the dropping of the whole, the vowel sounds remaining radically alike.

In the general view of the question, as elucidated by the facts before us, it will at once be observed that the numerals of the most distant races and the more remote interior and uncivilized tribes of the Eastern Archipelago are the most similar. Thus, admitting that the sibilant is convertible into the dental, as ta into sa, the Maori and great groups of far Eastern Polynesia have numerals identical with the great island of Madagascar. A remote race in the interior of the great island of Sumatra, viz., the Lampong, has numerals identical with Maori; while another in the same island, viz., the Batta, has numerals identical with the Malagasi—the former adopting the dental, the latter the sibilant. Again, the numerals of the principal races of the Philippines, viz.,

Tagala, Papango, and Mindanao, are identical with the Malagasi, which is also the case with the island of Savu, near Timor, and Dory, in New Guinea.

What do these facts, as far as they go, tend to prove? This; they serve as another proof to the theory that I have already advanced from other data, that one tropical race, a negro one, had in archaic times power and vitality to extend its off-shoots and language from the centre, i.e., Barata (ancient Hindostan) westward as far as Madagascar, and eastward as far as Easter Island; and that the most remote branches of the race should now speak languages more similar than those near the centre is consistent with what ethnological inquiry teaches us to have taken place in the Eastern Archipelago, viz., that the languages in that middle distance between the extremes of migration have been affected (though not radically) by the incursions of Arian, Thibetan, and other continental races.

It will thus be seen that the numerals of one archaic race have extended over 200° of longitude, a distance only surpassed by the transcendent efforts of the modern British, and as the Malay race has come in intimate comparison with their predecessors (the Barata) by their having occupied a portion of the middle distance, viz., between 100° and 140° of longitude, and though limited to 40°, or one-fifth of the space, yet, it being a very important part, some allusion is necessary to estimate the nature of their connection, if any exists. On reference to the table, it will be seen that of the ten numerals five only of the Malay are similar to the Maori, and six are similar to the Malagasi. This removes the Malay to the same distance from the archaic numerals, as those of the Timor and Arru groups, geographically connected rather with Australia than the Eastern Archipelago; such being the case the connection is but very distant.

Some of the ruder tribes, such as those of New Caledonia, Malicolo, and Tanna, will be seen to only count as far as five, and this, in prehistoric times, seems also to have been the case with the archaic Malay. Such was his crude advancement in the science of figures; so we may conclude that while the Malay was a rude savage in the interior of Sumatra, the Barata race occupied the Malacca Strait—the gate of Africa, India, and Polynesia—and advanced to the height of his power and expansion till the inroads of the Arian and Thibetan extruded him from his peninsular seat and eliminated his race and language from the country of his origin.

The first six numerals, excepting the third, will be seen to be almost identical in all the races of Madagascar, the Indian Archipelago, and Polynesia. In Malay the numeral three, or tiga, entirely differs from these, and the sixth may have been derived from the Barata term, which has been universally adopted by the adjacent tribes, viz., the Acheens, Lampongs, Battas, and

Rejangs. But the next three numerals, viz., seven, eight, and nine, in Malay, are not Barata, but of their own invention, adopted at a time when the rise and progress of the tribe demanded the addition, and the manner of invention may be explained as follows:—Seven is expressed by tudju, that means to point which act is done by the seventh, or forefinger of the right hand after the left had been counted. Eight is expressed by delapan, that is dua lapang, or two spaces between it and the last, or tenth, finger (the small finger of the right hand). That this is the correct interpretation is proved by another language in Sumatra, viz., that of Prince's Island, which uses the same term for eight and sa lapan for nine, that is one space between it and the last; while the Acheenese for the same numeral (nine) use sa korong, i.e.—one wanting. Nine is expressed in Malay by sambilan, i.e.—one count from the last. This idiom is common to the language, thus, for example, “half-past three” they express by saying “half of four o'clock.” Ten is expressed by the word sapulo, that is sa-ulo, or one end or head, the “p” being inserted for the sake of euphony, a very common practice in the Malay language.

Thus we see that of all the numerals in the table the Malay, in common with remote Timor, has borrowed least from the Barata tongue, and so far as the evidence goes, it has had little connection with the origin of the Polynesian languages, including that of New Zealand. This I adduce as another proof of the theory I have previously advanced on other data before this Society.

With the extinction of the Barata power there arose the Malayan influence, but which extended, in its most palmy days, only from Sumatra to Ternati. Its original seat in the highlands of Sumatra, viz., Menangkabau, by its fertility and temperate climate, was well fitted to develop a race superior in energy to those found on the sea boards and enervating plains of the Malayan Peninsula and adjacent districts. The proximity of the river outlets of Menangkabau to the Straits of Singapore, the key of eastern navigation, placed the Malay race (once developed into a nation) in a strategical position eminently superior to the only powerful nations that could come in contact with them, viz., the Siamese and Javanese. The whole basin of Malacca must be described as barren, so the region, while being the key to the Archipelago, can only be said to be fitted for trade or piratical adventure. In these pursuits we find, from native history, that the Malays competed with the Bugis over the length and breadth of the Archipelago, drawing down on themselves the intermittent wrath of the kings of Kalinga, Siam, and Java.

Marco Polo visited their capital, at that time fixed at Singapura (Singapore) in the year 1292, a valuable date, a desideratum of which native histories are entirely deficient, for by this we may estimate the chronology of

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hitherto proposed, but they also supply an explanation of many of the differences between other authors, and this curiously enough by showing that they are mistaken in the only point on which they are all agreed, viz, the folding of the wing during the up stroke.

Before, however, describing my observations, I will mention some of the very interesting experiments made by Dr. Pettigrew on the flight of sparrows, with their wings cut in different ways, which, in my opinion, not only annihilate, as he says, Mr. Macgillivray's theory, but his own also.

From his experiments I pick out the following as the most decisive.

1. Half of the secondary feathers of both pinions detached in the direction of the long axis of the wing, the primaries being left intact. Result.—Flight perfect.

2. Half of the primary feathers in the long axis of either pinion detached, the secondaries being left intact. Result.—When one wing only was operated on flight was perfect, when both were cut it was slightly laboured.

3. Primary and secondary feathers from both wings removed alternately. Result.—Flight nearly perfect.

4. Half the primary feathers from either wing removed transversely. Result.—When one wing only was operated on flight was but very slightly impaired, when both were cut the bird flew heavily and came to the ground at no great distance.

These experiments prove that cutting the wings in the direction of the long axis interferes very little with flight, but that if the tips of the primaries are cut off transversely the effect is very evident. This, in other words, means that flight depends principally on the primary feathers of the wing, and not on the secondaries, while both Mr. Macgillivray's and Dr. Pettigrew's theories imply quite the reverse, for the former says that progression is obtained by the uplifting of the secondary feathers, and the latter by the secondary feathers forming a kind of funnel which compels the air to escape in a backward direction. Dr. Pettigrew himself (l.c., 245) says that “the bending up of the shafts of the feathers during the descent of the wing would impair its efficiency by permitting more air to escape along its posterior, or thin margin, than is necessary;” much more, therefore, ought its efficiency to be impaired by cutting off the shafts of the feathers. But experiment proves clearly that such is not the case.

There is no better time for observing the movements of the wings of a bird than when at sea, steaming against a fresh breeze, and surrounded by a flock of sea-gulls. Under these circumstances the birds often appear to be quite stationary, sometimes straight overhead, sometimes astern, and sometimes on one or the other quarter, so that distinct views from below, from the front, or from one side, can be obtained, while the movements of the wings of

the gull are so slow that the eye can easily follow them. An attentive examination will convince anyone that the wings are moved from the shoulder straight up and down, or very nearly so, that the elbow joint is not appreciably bent during either stroke, but that during the down stroke the wrist joint, which bears the primary feathers, is bent back, and expanded again during the up stroke. While, therefore, the movement of the main part of the wing from the shoulder is nearly vertical, the tips, by having also a horizontal movement, do not describe a simple “wave track” in the air, but a cycloidal curve as stated by Professor Marey.

I should, not, however, omit to mention that Dr. Pettigrew, who also says that flexion occurs principally at the wrist joint, states that while watching rooks he has, over and over again, satisfied himself that the wings are flexed during the up stroke. The rook, however, cannot be compared to the gull in affording facilities for observation. It cannot be seen so near, it moves its wings faster, and it never occurs under those circumstances just mentioned, when the bird, although flying through the air, appears to be stationary, sometimes for more than a minute at a time. Still, I must allow that confirmatory evidence is necessary to others before they can accept my statement as correct, while at the same time such evidence would be very satisfactory to me.

If, however, I am correct in stating that this backward, or rowing motion of the primaries, is delivered during the down stroke, it is obvious that it is this that drives the bird forward, easily, therefore, explaining the results arrived at in the previously mentioned experiments, viz.—that when the primaries are cut flight is stopped, but that when left intact it is but little impeded, although the secondaries are cut off.

It is also obvious that, in order to preserve a steady line of flight, it will be necessary to expose a greater surface of the wing to the air while it is being raised than while it is being depressed, in order that it may support the bird by its kite-like action, as I have explained in my previous paper on the flight of the albatros (Trans. N.Z. Inst., II., 230). The truth of this has been proved by the experiments of Professor Marey, who has shown that during each complete vibration of the wings, a bird rises and falls twice successively, but that these oscillations are unequal in extent, the greater corresponding to the depression of the wings, and the lesser to their elevation; this latter being caused by their kite-like action just described.

From an anatomical examination of the wing, Dr. Pettigrew states that “during flexion the anterior margin is slightly directed downwards, and in extension decidedly directed upwards.” This is just what we should expect if flexion takes place during the down stroke, and it will then agree with Professor Marey's experiments; and it is, I think, entirely from supposing that flexion must necessarily occur during the up stroke that has led Dr.

Pettigrew to the extraordinary opinion that the forward movement of a bird is derived from a stroke delivered downward and forward.

Dr. Pettigrew, and many other authors, hold the opinion that the wing feathers of a bird open and close during the up and down strokes respectively. But however this may be with birds that only flap their wings slowly, it is, I think, almost impossible that such rapid changes should take place in the wings of a bird like the sparrow, which, according to Professor Marey, makes thirty-three vibrations per second. Dr. Pettigrew's experiments, also, upon the sparrow, with alternate feathers taken out of the wing, show that an opening and shutting movement is not necessary for flight; and we may safely assume on the principle of greatest economy of force, a principle always acted upon throughout nature, that what is not necessary is not used.

The falconers of olden days were well aware that rapidity of flight depended on the primary feathers of the wing, and they called these the “flight feathers,” while the secondaries they called the “sail feathers,” and it will be found that the swiftness of a bird's flight depends on the length of the primaries in proportion to the size of the bird, and on the number of strokes it makes per second. Thus the swift, which has proportionately longer primary feathers than any other bird, is probably the fastest flier, while the partridge, which has broad wings but short primaries, flies heavily, and has to make very rapid strokes. The wild-duck has less area of wing in proportion to its weight than a partridge, but its primaries are longer, and consequently it flies much faster. The landrail also is another example of a slow flying bird with considerable expanse of wing for its weight, but with short primaries. The heron also furnishes another instance of the same kind, and it is well known that the long winged falcons are far superior fliers to the round winged buzzards, vultures, and eagles, although in the latter the area of wing surface is probably greater than in the former.

The way in which birds turn in the air has also been much misunderstood. Professor Owen (Comp. Anat. of Vert. II., 115) advances the extraordinary theory that when a bird wishes to turn it beats the air more rapidly with one pinion than with the other, which however originated with Borelli in his “De Motu Animalium.”

Van der Hoven (Handbook of Zoology, II., 371) also reiterates the same opinion, while Macgillivray (l.c. I., p. 420) says that turns are effected by the contraction of one wing and the extension of the other, aided by the tail.

The real method of turning, however, is very simple, and was, I believe, first pointed out by me in the Ibis for July, 1865, p. 297. It must be remembered that when a bird is flying the reaction of its wings against the air is not only forward but also upward, the latter being necessary to counteract the force of gravity. If now a bird lowers its right side, so that the axis from

rods being lengthened to enable both pistons of high and low pressure cylinders to be fixed on one rod, while the same pair of eccentrics were arranged to work the valves of the upper and lower cylinders of each combined engine. The steam from the upper cylinders exhausts into the valve chest of the lower cylinders, exerting its remaining pressure in them. It then escapes into the surface condenser, whence it is conveyed back again to the boiler in the shape of fresh water at a temperature of about 135° Fahr.

Both of the old air-pumps are brought into use, one as a circulating pump to force the water through the tubes of the condenser, the other to operate in the usual way. By this system two separate compound engines are made, using the same condenser.

The high-pressure cylinders are steam-jacketed, as also are the covers of the lower cylinders and the exhaust pipes leading from the upper cylinders to the lower ones. There is also an interheater placed in the lower steam chest between the slide valves to assist in keeping up the tension of the steam. The supply of steam for the jackets is taken from the superheater at a temperature probably of 350° Fahr.

The surface condenser is cylindrical, and contains 735 brass tubes, four feet long and five-eighths of an inch outside diameter, giving a cooling surface of 465.5 square feet, the tubes being fixed into brass tube plates with screwed glands and indiarubber washers.

The boiler is 7 ft. 3 in. in diameter by 9 ft. long, having two furnaces 2 ft. 2 in. by 6 ft. There is a superheater with the uptake passing through it, and the total heating surface, including the superheater, is 502.56 square feet.

These combined engines are of 38.8 horse-power, by Watt's rule, and 45 nominal horse-power by the Admiralty rule; the ratio of cylinder areas is as 6 to 1 nearly, all four cylinders cutting off at three-quarter stroke, so that the steam is expanded about eight times.

On the trial trip the boiler pressure was 80 lbs. per square inch, and the diagrams taken by Mr. Stewart, Government Inspector of steamers, showed an initial pressure of 72 lbs. per inch; mean pressure 61.75 lbs., and the terminal pressure, 37.5 lbs.; average number of revolutions per minute 80, indicating 58 horse-power for the upper cylinders.

The effective pressure in the lower cylinders was only 7.6 lbs., indicating 42 horse-power, making a total of 100 indicated horse-power for the combined engines, with a consumption of 376 lbs. per hour, or 3.76 lbs. per indicated horse-power per hour.

The diagrams also showed that the steam in the lower cylinders is under atmospheric pressure, hence the smallness of the power in them as compared with the power given out in the upper cylinders. There ought to have been at least from 5 to 6 lbs. above the atmosphere in the lower cylinders.

Another important matter in connection with these engines is a loss of from 8 to 40 lbs. of steam between the boiler and the engines. The writer is at present unable to account for so much loss as this, unless the steam pipes be too small.

Since the trial trip a number of indicator diagrams have been taken, and these show, without the supplementary steam jet, a positive pressure on the lower cylinders of from 2 to 3 lbs. per inch; the deficiency is at present about 3 lbs., lost from condensation of the steam passing from one cylinder to the other, and filling up the steam passages in the lower cylinders.

The fact of not having any steam at or above atmospheric pressure in the lower cylinders at first, must be attributable to the steam jackets and inter-heater not working properly, probably through some of the cones being left in the upper cylinders, or from some other obstruction in the steam-jacket pipes.

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The Tables on page 146 will show at once the comparative results of the two systems in point of economy and speed. Tables A and B are an extract from the ships' log by the chief officer; they show in the first place the average number of hours on the passage each way.

It will be well to notice a coincidence between Tables A and B in point of time on the down trips. Table A gives an average with the compound engines of 56 hours for the down trips from Auckland to Napier, and 64.17 hours for the up trips from Napier to Auckland—thus making the down trips in twelve per cent, less time than the up trips.

In working out the averages in Table B, very nearly the same result occurs. The down trips made with the old engines took 56.5 hours, and the up trips 64.7, being twelve per cent, quicker on the down trips, the same as with the compound engines. The result gives for Table A one per cent, in favour of the compound engines in point of speed, taking the average of five months' running.

Table C shows the consumption of coals with the compound engines for the voyage per hour. Table D shows the same for the old engines.

On comparing C and D we find a saving in fuel of 42.1 per cent, with the compound engines, and this, with the increase of one per cent, in speed, requires for its attainment three per cent more power.

This consumption does not include the coals used for banked fires, cooking purposes, or steam winch. I have made the same deductions for Table D as for Table C for these purposes.

With regard to the general working of these engines up to the present time there is every reason to be satisfied. Certainly there has been one source of annoyance, and that has been the excessive priming, actually in some instances taking the water right through the engines into the surface condenser; but since the addition of another steam dome on the boiler, connecting it with the superheater, the excessive priming has ceased, but the water still rises in the gauge-glass several inches above its true level. I find from inquiries that this is the case, more or less, in all boats using surface condensers, even with low-pressure steam.

Before going into the various questions that arise with reference to priming, the chemical and electric actions of the steam and water on the boiler, I shall endeavour to show by comparison, theoretically, the superiority of the compound principle. I have stated my belief that nearly every screw-steamer on the coast of New Zealand could be similarly converted, and with equally good results. Supposing we take two examples with a similar class of engines, to those in the “Star of the South,” but much larger—say one of the steamers now plying on the coast (s.s. “Phœbe”), of which I have been furnished with dimensions of engines, consumption, etc. We have to find from the data

given, first, the approximate indicated horse-power; the quantity of water to be evaporated to supply the engines at a given speed and pressure, with a given known consumption. Secondly—To calculate in the same way the results that would probably be obtained if the same engines were converted into compound engines.

This seems to be a subject of importance to every one concerned or interested in the use or science of steam, but it must not be understood that I pretend to satisfactorily solve the question of the superiority of the compound principle, but to bring it before the notice of this Society for discussion.

At the same time I shall endeavour to show the results of a few simple calculations from the three different examples given.

Commencing then with the before-mentioned examples of engines, whose cylinders are 44 inches diameter, with a piston speed of 297 feet per minute, and an initial pressure of 15 lbs. on the square inch, cutting off at ⅝ of the stroke, and a mean vacuum of 26 inches, the consumption of coal being 18 tons per 24 hours, or 15 cwt per hour. Working this out in the usual way, these engines might be expected to indicate 7.11 horse-power, and the quantity of water that would have to be evaporated to supply the engines at the above-named pressure and speed is 241 cubic feet per hour. This is equal to one pound of coal evaporating 10 lbs. of water in the hour, or a consumption of 2.36 lbs. per indicated horse-power per hour.

Secondly.—We will now compare the above results with what would probably be obtained if these engines were compounded with two high-pressure cylinders (similar to those in the “Star of the South”) of 22 inches diameter, with a boiler pressure of 80 lbs. per inch, and cutting off at half-stroke in all the cylinders. Still retaining the same piston speed, we shall have for the upper cylinders an initial pressure of 75 lbs. per inch, the mean pressure 63 lbs. The initial pressure in lower cylinders being 9.375 lbs., the back pressure in upper cylinders will be 54 lbs. per square inch, and the ratio of expansion in upper cylinders being 2 to 1, the terminal pressure equalling 37.5 lbs., from which data, using the same formula as in the preceding examples, the two high pressure cylinders would indicate 372.4 horse-power.

The ratio of the areas of the upper and lower cylinders being 4 to 1, the initial pressure in lower cylinders will be say 9.3 lbs., cutting off at half-stroke; mean pressure = 7.6 lbs., but deducting 3 lbs. for loss of steam travelling from one cylinder to the other, and condensation, we shall have a total effective pressure of 4.6 + 13 = 17.6 lbs. in lower cylinders, which will give 481 horse-power for the lower cylinders, making a total of 854 horse-power for the combined engines, and this with the steam expanding eight times to one.

The quantity of water required to be evaporated to supply the engines at the speed and pressure above stated will be 165 cubic feet per hour; allowing

then the same quantity of coal to evaporate the same number of pounds of water (same as in the first example) this will give a consumption of 8.9, or say 9 cwt per hour, with an increase of power equal to 143 horse-power more than in the preceding example, and the consumption would be 1.2 lbs. per indicated horse-power per hour.

Taking this then as a purely comparative statement, it shows an increase of power and at the same time nearly 50 per cent saving of fuel. It must not be taken to mean that these calculations which leave out many sources of loss of heat and force, are likely to be attained in practice in any altered engines, but the least result of 1.2 lbs. per indicated horse-power per hour has been surpassed by compound engines.

It has been stated by some that equally good results could be obtained with using high-pressure steam in single cylinder engines, and cutting of at a fractional portion of the stroke. There are objections to this plan; for instance, in expanding the steam say 6 to 1, as in the other cases, the terminal pressure would be very great, and totally lost as far as exerting any power is concerned, unless it was a very long stroke, and this for screw-engines is impracticable; besides, the vacuum would not be nearly so good, and there would be more loss by condensation than with compound engines.

The compound engine uses the steam down to its very lowest pressure, and none is lost, except a little by condensation, and this can be reduced to about 1.5 lbs.

From what has been advanced it will be seen that there can be little doubt of the superiority of the compound engine in point of economy over the old system with low pressure steam and jet condenser. There is not such a low consumption per indicated horse-power with the “Star of the South's” engines as is stated to be got on the trial trips at home from some of the large boats, but the surest test is, when knowing the consumption and speed of a certain vessel with the old system to compare the obtained results after conversion, as has been done in the “Star of the South's” case, and a saving in fuel proven, of 42.1 per cent, after six months running, with no diminution in speed, but an increase of one per cent., as shown by the above tables; and no doubt even a better result would be obtained with new compound engines than by converting old.

If we consider the two theoretical examples given we find a very small consumption per indicated horse-power. There is no doubt but a very great saving could be effected in a vessel of the class selected.

We now come to some of the disadvantages of using surface condensers and high-pressure steam; and first, with regard to priming, it is one of the phenomena of ebullition, and occurs more or less in all boilers using surface condensers, whether with high or low pressure steam, irrespective of the kind

pohutukawa; the water is slightly brackish, and very limited in quantity. The Maoris have a tradition that if anyone were to lie down at length and drink from the pool the waters would straightway dry up. An old chief who accompanied us to point out the best fishing grounds charged each member of the party to be careful and dip the water. It was with much pleasure that I listened here to the sweet note of the koromako (Anthornis melanura). I have heard it occasionally on Whale Island, about five miles from Rurima. The Maoris think that it is the sole survivor of the race and that it flies backwards and forwards between the islands.

The other islet, Moutoki, lies about half-a-mile to the north-east. It is perhaps 150 yards in length by 50 in breadth. It is on a cone-like hummock rising from its centre that the tuatara (Sphenodon punctatum) is found; the area of this cone is not more than half an acre, and yet the tuatara exists and has existed for ages in this limited preserve. Tradition says that they were plentiful on Whale Island, but does not account in a satisfactory manner for their extinction. If, as the Maoris aver, their ancestors ate all kinds of lizards, how is it that they are so frightened of them? In a few minutes we caught four tuataras (the largest of which I forwarded to Mr. Kirk); they were found basking on the rocks and in holes in the loose soil. Whether these holes were the burrows of sea birds or had been scraped by the lizards I could not tell. In one instance we found a tuatara and a young penguin in the same burrow. The Maoris, as a rule, have a perfect horror of lizards, and associate them with death or disaster, but a couple of Urewera lads, who formed part of my crew, proved superior to superstitious influences, and pulled them out bravely, receiving, however, sundry sharp nips for their temerity. It is believed by some that the tuatara feeds for a portion of the year at least on the eggs of sea birds, but I could never coax one to eat an egg. From, an examination of their excreta I am of opinion that their food consists of insects, more particularly a shining black beetle, about half-an-inch in length, with a longish neck, small head, and fluted clytra; it is commonly found under stones and old wood. On the summit and sides of the cone I noticed the pohutukawa, one or two pittosporads, the common fern, some aspleniums, and a well-known grass; about the base there is a thick growth of a dwarfed coprosma (C. lucida in all probability). This part of the islet swarms with a small, dark, mottled brown lizard, half-a-dozen of them under every stone or bit of drift-wood. As far as I could discover, they never mix with their larger brethren on the cone. While on this subject, I may mention the existence of a large forest lizard, called by the Maoris kaweau. In 1870 an Urewera chief killed one under the loose bark of a dead rata, in the Waimana valley; he described it to me as being about two feet long, and as thick as a mans wrist; colour brown, striped longitudinally with dull red.

to base of dorsal; a single dorsal, low and rounded, commences at middle of back and over the umbilicus. Tail-lobes narrow, falcate, each one-third longer than the pectoral.

Nose and forehead pure white, bounded by a crescent of black behind the blow-hole, sharply defined in front, but shading off behind to light grey, which is the uniform colour of the upper surface of the body. Fins are all darker than the trunk; there is also pure black round the blow-hole, cloaca, and vent. The white of the snout extends behind the eye, but the dusky colour extends forward beneath the angle of the mouth. The lower aspect is white as far back as the vent, but is crossed by an isthmus of dark grey beneath the pectorals. The white band is continued by two lateral stripes that ascend on the flanks. The colouring, as far as I have been able to judge by casual inspection is very uniform in all the individuals.

This dolphin differs in external characters from the genus Lagenorhynchus (as described in the “Catalogue of Seals and Whales,” p. 267) in the forward position of the dorsal, and the absence of a second fin-lobe on the back.

Common in Cook Strait and on the West Coast as far south as Jackson Bay, travelling in large schools.

A Bottle-nose shot in 1871 had a total length of 51 inches, girth 32 inches, and weight 78 lbs.

There is a complete skeleton and several skulls and lower jaws in the Colonial Museum, this being the most commonly cast up of any of the dolphins round the coast.

The skull is flask-shaped, the beak being wide at the base, rapidly tapering to an acute point in front, with the edges bevelled in a regular manner. The teeth are small, cylindrical, curved, and pointed. Palate slightly concave.

The length of the adult skull is 14 inches, the beak forming half the length, and being three times the width of its middle part; height of the occiput 5.7 inches. The cervical vertebræ are anchylosed into a solid mass 1.3 inch in length.

The beak is trigonal, obliquely truncate, and slightly upturned, three times the length of the brain cavity; vomer is small, fusiform, truncate posteriorly (probably from its having been broken off in opening the sperm cavity) callous and depressed in a groove that is formed by the thin callous margin of the intermaxillaries, which are continued backwards to form a moderately high ridge, inclosing an oval basin, and rising to a deeply-notched crest that overhangs the blowers at the level of the supra-occipital crest; the beak is slightly unsymmetrical at the point, being twisted to the right; the blowers are strongly twisted to the left; the maxillaries are slightly elevated, inclosing a lateral groove on each side of the beak, which groove expands backwards to form shallow supra-orbital basins.

On the lower aspect of the beak there are imperfect dental grooves, but no tooth sockets, nor any acute tubercular granulations as described in. E. desmarestii.

The lower jaw projects three inches beyond the beak, the thin callous rami having straight, entire, upper margins as far as the commencement of the symphysis, where they curve upwards and end in a conical, truncate point, which is level with the upper surface of the beak when the mouth is closed, and terminates in two short, stout, slightly compressed teeth (Pl. V., 2a. and b.), two inches long and four in circumference, implanted in shallow sockets. The teeth have slight irregular striæ, and are worn down into two lateral facets divided by an acute ridge. The position of the teeth, when the jaws are closed, is two inches beyond the upper mandible, and unless they are applied against callosities on the upper lip it is difficult to conceive how they are worn down to this acute form. Two teeth of similar form, taken from the jaw of a whale cast up on the Manawatu beach, have their facets forming an obtuse pyramidal tip (Pl. V. 3.) A shallow dental groove extends back from the tooth sockets for fifteen inches with well marked nutrient foramina that indicate twenty-two suppressed teeth.

Only two species of Epiodon are known, and it is possible that the above may be identical with. Epiodon australis from Buenos Ayres, the description of

has enabled us to acquire further knowledge of the ways of the halcyon. Rather late in August, when the brown-skinned konini begins to deck its bare sprays with pendulous flowers, when the head of the straight-stemmed kowhai is already crowned with racemes of golden blossoms, integratio amoris, or rather the beginning of courtship, seems to occupy a share of the time which is not required to obtain the means of satisfying the cravings of the halcyon's somewhat exacting appetite. Observation has rather led us to the belief that the female takes the initiative in these amorous advances. Whilst watching several birds which were busily engaged in snatching up and bearing off crustaceœ from the sea-beach, in which employment the cock birds displayed most activity, usually getting three or four crabs to one picked up by a hen bird, a hen would perch herself close to a male after one of his successful darts; all unmoved, he rapped his prey on his rocky stand and proceeded to gulp it down, apparently unconscious of the blandishments of the would-be charmer. Through the month of September we have noticed similar instances of insensibility or coyness on the part of the males, under circumstances when the females have had little chance of being favoured with some choice prey as a gage d'amour. Forwardness on the part of “the sex” is not without precedent; we have noticed that the nuptial plumage of the female spotted shag (P. punctatus) reaches its full development before that of the male; frequently one may observe the red plume-like stigmas of the hazel on the spray where the male catkins hang immature.

During last season we knew of several nests that contained altogether nearly forty eggs. At each breeding place that had been excavated in a bank or wall, the tunnel invariably inclined upwards, the entrance at some distance from the ground, four or five feet and upwards. In one instance the hole was not more than two feet from the base of a wall built on rather a steep slope, this is noted to show that the habits of our bird differ from those of its European congener Alcedo ispida. In Wood's “Homes without Hands,” p. 519, is a representation of the nest of the English bird, and it may be noticed there that the floor of the tunnel is nearly on a level with the surface of the water; our bird always ascends in entering, and descends on quitting the nest.

Note.—October 10th, first egg laid in a nest on our cliff; second egg laid on the 12th before 10 a.m.; third egg laid on the 14th; fourth egg on the 15th; fifth egg on the 16th; sixth, and last egg, on the 17th.

Subsequently the nesting place was measured, and gave the following dimensions:—Entrance rather over 2 inches in diameter, tunnel 16 inches in length; egg chamber, of ovoid form, 7 inches in length, 5½ inches in width, with a height from the bottom of 4. inches. The size of the nest may create surprise when one thinks of the space occupied by the eggs, but a roomy home is necessary, for, like those of most troglodytal breeders, the young remain in

their hole till their wings are well grown. This stay-at-home habit saves the parents much expenditure of force, depending, as they do, for food on living prey; nor is the safety of their offspring so often jeopardised. Rapid digestion would cause the young to utter constant cries for food, which would disclose to enemies the whereabouts of each member of a scattered brood; the labour of hunting after stray young ones would be very great compared to the task of carrying food to one common feeding place. It should be noted that the egg chamber is hollowed out slightly below the floor of the tunnel, a ridge is thus formed by which the eggs and newly hatched young are kept safe from accident; in fact there is no need of a nest during incubation, the warmth that is communicated to the hole by the body of the sitting bird being very considerable.

The birds that built near us last season gave plenty of opportunity to watch their labours; steady hard work it is, indeed, that in some instances endures for weeks. After the site is selected, and a commencement made, the birds do not both leave the spot, watch being kept by one whilst its mate works or is absent after food. Should an alarm be given it is speedily answered, though from the distance of half-a-mile. Both take about an equal share of labour. On timing them it was found that if the hen worked hardest one day on the next the cock was most laborious.

Note.—October 23rd, hen at work in the hole three minutes, cock then took his turn; the time in the tunnel for either bird varying from a few seconds to about three minutes. When the hen flew off to feed, the cook remained to watch just below the hole; after his mate returned, in about 20 minutes, he at once recommenced work. They darted upwards from their perches into the hole, always correctly, judging the distance, at the moment of entering uttering a short cry of two notes like “chi-rit.” They turned when in the tunnel, as they always emerged head first. Once the hen darted to the hole and flew back, perhaps from timidity, more likely from coquetry, then sought the cook, who bent down from his perch and caressed her with his bill. Early in the morning, from five to six o'clock, little work was done, that part of the day seeming to be the time allotted for feeding, but the state of the tide might have had something to do with this as the greater part of their food is procured from the mud-flats at ebb tide.

A notable instance of their perseverance was given this season; a pair fixed for the site of their nesting place the back of a plaistered sod chimney attached to an empty cottage; they were working at the chimney on the 19th of October. After commencing on the egg chamber this nest was abandoned, probably the wall not affording what was considered by them a sufficient depth for the safety of their offspring.

Note.—November 3rd, they were hard at work with a fresh nest in front

of the cottage, between the door and a window; this was deserted for probably the same reason as caused them to leave the first nest. November 14th, saw the same pair at work on a fresh site on the south wall of the same cottage, darting upwards from a convenient rail five and six times in a minute, till the hard plain surface of the wall was broken by the dig of the bill. This was the difficult commencement of their toil; here was no foothold, the beak served as a pick, and a separate dart upwards had to be made each time this pick was applied. Alas! their labour was again lost, three more holes were begun and partly completed in that wall; then this indefatigable pair went over to the opposite end of the cottage, and, in the chimney-wall they had first attacked, commenced another nesting place; this was the seventh attempt on November 26th. On December 4th this contained two eggs, on the 7th five eggs. The nest was visited, always by the same person, on the the 9th, 16th, and 23rd; on the 25th there were five young ones, apparently hatched on the previous day, thus allowing seventeen days for incubation. From the state of the tunnel the bird fed or was fed during incubation.

When a fortnight old the young look very strange, they have a dim show of the colours of the old birds, but the feathers are in their sheaths over their whole bodies, so that they look prickly all over; irides dark brown, almost black, the bill black with white tip to the upper mandible. On the twenty-fourth day the young left the nest, dashing out of the hole and covering quite 200 yards before seeking a perch. This occurred on January 8th so that most of the heavy labours of the birds, which commenced on or before the 19th of October, are now over, as the young are able to follow their parents to the feeding ground.

Here a very interesting question rises. In what state was the ovary of this hen bird during the protracted labours of nest building? What limit is there to the power of retention? as during a space of about six weeks, judging from the almost finished state of the nest, she was three times ready, or nearly ready, to deposit her eggs.

We found the halcyon scarce through some part of Westland, from Hokitika south to the Waio River; the note was only heard, or the bird seen, twice or thrice near the rivers Waitaroa and Okarito. Inland from the coast we have met with it as far back as Castle Hill, near Porter's Pass; this was at breeding time (December 6th). It is during this all important season that these, our silent birds, change their habit so much as to become really noisy; so many varying calls or cries are used that one accustomed to their society could tell of much they might be engaged in, even with his eyes shut. Their boldness in driving away intruders from their young is most conspicuous. The hen bird will often meet a person some two or three hundred yards from her treasures, dash at the intruder, return to the place where the young are

with scrub-bush, dotted with ti trees, and two or three specimens only were to be seen; they have been driven away from Arahura by the clearances for paddocks to supply the requirements of the West Coast cattle trade.

Last December in travelling along the coast from Ross to Okarita, we saw this bird in abundance on the face of those bluffs which form such picturesque breaks in that journey; up the river flats it was equally numerous.

Settlers have given the name of the thrush to the pio-pio, from its size and brown plumage recalling to mind their favourite of the old country; it possesses not in the slightest degree that charm of song which distinguishes the throstle, yet it enjoys the power of giving utterance to several pleasing notes. It does not stir so early as many other birds; its morning salute is a long-drawn rather plaintive note; this peculiar whistle it indulges in at times only, for its habit, when close to the water frequently, is to pipe thrice, in a way that at once recalls the red-bill (Hœmatopus); the imitation is so like, that the writer and his son (well acquainted with bird-notes and calls) were frequently deceived, and have looked for a red-bill till the pio-pio disclosed himself by fluttering from bush to bush. Its common song seems to be near akin to that of the lark (Anthus novœ-zealandiœ); it sounds two preludatory notes, then strikes off into a very brief song; when joyously flying in pursuit of the female it utters a quick chi-chi-chit, chi-chi-chit; it marks its displeasure, or tries to intimidate intruders that approach its nest, with a low purring chur-r-r; both cock and hen join in this cry of anger. When singing, the effort is marked by the tail being spread, the wings held not quite close; the feathers of the breast and back are not raised as in the case of the bell-bird.

We have called this pio-pio a philosopher; he has quite as good a claim as many a biped to whom that title is accorded; who doubts this, let him make acquaintance with the pio-pio; not merely a sight acquaintance, but such an one as ripens into intimacy. The result will be to know a bird who takes the world as it is, indifferent as to food; that feeds on insects when procurable, or can make shift on grasses, seeds, or fruits; that neither courts nor avoids observation; is as bold as the robin or tit, without their intrusive friendliness; that, when in the presence of strangers, coolly pursues its occupation without the prying inquisitiveness of the brown-creeper, or the watchful distrust of the popokatea; that defends his home with almost the courage of the falcon or tern.

It seems to delight in those openings which are found in river-beds, between long belts of tutu and other scrub; there it may be observed either hopping along the ground or fluttering about the lower sprays of shrubs, flying out to the spits of sand, or drifted trees, that lie stranded in the riverbed. On some of the longer formed spits, that are becoming clothed with vegetation, it searches amongst the burry Acœna, snips off the fruit stalks of

moss, picking the seed of some trailing Veronica. Its progress on the ground is usually deliberate; it hops with both feet together, a slight flutter of the wings, and a flirt of the tail accompanying each motion; when approached too closely, it leaves its perch, always descending at first, as though safer when near or on the ground; if it would rise on the wing, a momentum is gained by a succession of hops. In some of its habits one is reminded much of the wattle-bird; its usual associates, at any rate during the summer months, are tuis, parroquets, and robins.

Not much secretiveness is displayed in the choice of a site for its nest; it may be found at varying distances from the earth, from four feet to twelve and upwards, usually at seven or eight. The structure is firmly and compactly built, with small sprays for the foundation, on which moss is abundantly interwoven with pliant twigs; the lining is usually of fine grass bents; some nests are finished off with soft tree-fern down; it is usually placed in tutu (Coriaria ruscifolia), sometimes in Coprosma, or manuka. From the neighbourhood of its home, rivals of its own species as well as other birds are driven off.

Probably it breeds twice in the season, although we have not observed more than two eggs to a nest; yet we have found four eggs tolerably forward in the ovary of a female killed at Christmas time. The full complement of eggs is probably four. The egg is of ovoid, sometimes elongated form, pure white, spotted with blackish brown or black, purplish at the edges of the spots; sometimes it is of a delicate pinkish tinge, just staining the white, spotted with brownish grey, with purplish blotches at the larger end.

From a nest found at Arahura we have an egg that exactly resembles in its colour and markings that of Oriolus gallula, of Europe. In size this specimen measures through the axis 1 in. 3½ lines, with a diameter of 11½ lines.

Note.—December 26th, River Waio. In a nest, about 12 feet from the ground, in a bush of Coriaria, the eggs, two in number, were of elongated form, and measured in length 1 in. 7 lines by nearly 1 inch in width.

December 27th, River Waio. A nest in a small-leaved Coprosma (probably rhamnoides); hen incubating a single egg; she remained on the nest till pushed off. The cock bird was summoned by a jarring call, and both birds joined in a bold defence.

Near Lake Mapourika, in a very swampy situation, we found a nest with the walls very thickly built of moss and manuka sprays interwoven, it was placed about 15 feet above the ground in a tall manuka. Dimensions of the nest across the top from outside to outside of wall about 7 in., diameter of cavity about 3 in., with a depth of 2 in. We find this a fair average after looking at scores of nests. The young when they emerge from the shell have a covering of dark down. We think the eye of the pio-pio gleams with much

food from beneath the flakes and ragged strips of bark that hang from the brown-stemmed fuschia tree. It must be an early breeder. On the Teremakau we have seen the young, almost of adult size, in the first week of December.

For its nesting place a hollow or decayed tree is usually selected, sometimes the top of a tree-fern is preferred. The first nest we knew of was found by an old friend in a hole about four feet from the ground in a huge white pine, kahikatea (Podocarpus dacrydioides), close to the bank of the Ahaura river; it contained three eggs hard set. We found a nest in a dead tree-fern not far from Lake Mapourika, Westland. This was of slight construction, built principally of fern-root, deftly woven into rather a deep-shaped nest with thin walls; as the structure just filled the hollow top of the tree-fern thick walls were unnecessary. Another nest, in a small-sized decayed tree in the Okarita bush, was in a hole not more than three feet from the ground; it was roughly constructed, principally of fibres and midribs of decayed leaves of the kiekie (Freycinetia banksii), with a few tufts of moss, leaves of rimu, lined with moss and down of tree-ferns (Cyathea); it measured across from outside to outside of wall 12 in. 6 lines, cavity 3 inches diameter, depth of cavity 2 in. The egg, measuring nearly 1 in. 4 lines through the axis with a breadth of 11½ lines, is white, sprinkled over with faint purplish marks, towards the broad end brownish purple, almost forming one large blotch. The breeding season probably extends from September to January; the young are protected and fed by the old birds till almost full grown; they are summoned by the parent birds with their usual call, nor from this does the note of their active offspring greatly differ; the saddleback quickly responds to the summoning note of its species. An imitation of the sound by the assistance of a leaf between the lips serves to attract its presence, and is sometimes used by the collector for this purpose.

The next point to be considered is the plumage; that of the adult is easily described, for the feathers of the sexes fail to exhibit any distinction. The collection in the Canterbury Museum contains numerous specimens in the young state, procured at different seasons of the year:—

A.—Female obtained on Banks Peninsula, in the month of March (our autumnal period), has the whole plumage cinereous brown, slightly flushed with rufous, excepting bastard wing and the inner webs of the tail-feathers which are black; outer wing-coverts margined with ferruginous; upper and under tail-coverts ferruginous; wattles very small, pale yellow; mandibles black, except the edge of the basal portion of the lower mandible, which is margined with yellow for a distance of 6 lines; tarsi and feet black; claws horn-colour; length of bill from gape 1 inch 4 lines.

B.—Male killed at Little River Bush in November (early summer), differs

webs, the plumage consisting simply of clothing feathers, which during the progress of the bird give out no sound of fluttering or rustling. This peculiarity of the plumage confers another advantage by its compressibility, whilst it can be kept far cleaner than the integument of birds having feathers with closer vanes, interlocking barbules, or thicker down, as with this hair-like dress a single shake rids the bird of every foreign particle, while the feathers, covering the body like a thatch, effectually keep off the wet of the ever humid ferns and mosses among which the bird lives. If an Apteryx be plucked its body will be found somewhat conical from the point of the bill to the thighs, a form well devised for gliding through the thick ferny bottoms choked with the heavy fronds of Todea superba or the close trailing folds of Freycinetia, and enabling the long bill to be used to the greatest advantage in exploring deep but narrow fissures about the roots of trees.

It is probable that the rowi pairs for life, for there appears to exist between the sexes a lasting companionship. For a nesting place it selects a hole in some huge tree or log, or amongst roots; sometimes the hole is excavated in a soft bank, where the soil is light; but in every case care is taken that the site shall be on a ridge or dry ground. We examined a nesting place on the 17th December last, which was tunnelled in a mound of light earth, probably formed by the uprooting of some forest giant; the entrance was 9 inches in diameter, a chamber was found to be excavated to the left of the entrance, from this to the back of the chamber was a depth of 3 feet, with a height of 15 inches. This retreat had been abandoned by the family, but we picked pieces of egg-shell from the floor.

The breeding season extends over some months, from October to February. Two eggs are usually laid, on which the old birds rather lie than sit. The mode of roosting is very peculiar; they squat opposite each other with their legs bent under them, each with its head tucked under the scanty apology for a wing. If there are young in the hole they also assume a similar position, on either side a young bird between the two parents, thus the result of this singular arrangement of the family is a nearly perfect hemisphere of feathers. They often appear torpid or very drowsy when surprised in their homes, sometimes remaining quite undisturbed by noise, and are very rarely discovered except in a hole. In good condition a bird will average from 5 to 6 lbs. in weight.

Their cry is much harsher than that of the kiwi, sounding something like “cr-r-r-ruck, cr-r-r-ruck,” and is not uttered till after sundown; from timed observations in the bush we noticed that when the sun set about 7.30, we did not hear the rowi till from 8.15 to 8.30.

The young are well clothed when they leave the shell; with them the bill is not curved, following the ridge of the upper mandible it is slightly depressed about the middle of its length. The general colour of A. australis is greyish

which their delicate ramifications appear to issue. We have observed that the double linear impression on the upper mandible is not always constant, as in some specimens the groove deepens into a single line as sharply defined as though marked by a scribing tool. The lower mandible is also furnished with similar minute blood vessels, most densely crowded towards the point. On the deflected tip of the upper mandible is an impression which in some birds is nearly circular; others have this mark of almost angular shape. It is probable that a great degree of sensibility is conferred on the elongated bill by its investing membrane, so that the movements of insect prey are readily followed. We can see no reason for mistaking this elaborately organized bill for an instrument to be used like a pick for digging into hard soil, and we doubt if the kiwi ever leaves the shelter of the bush. The tongue is very short but muscular, of angular shape, and can be used in crushing insects against the flat opposed surface of the upper mandible, as the strong muscle on the lower surface gives a great degree of strength.

The visual organs, which are feebly developed, are placed so as to command the movements of the upper mandible, and are protected by stiffish ciliæ; the ears are well developed, and as an aid in discovering food are next in importance to the olfactories. The long straggling hairs, or weak bristles, planted amongst the feathers of the anterior part of the head, fulfil the useful office of protecting the eyes and head from injury; they may also guide or regulate the force of the thrust given by the bill. In life a perfect guard of feelers, they form a simple kind of defence, in strict harmony with the natural instinct of the kiwi—that of retiring cautiousness. The tarsi and feet, described as yellowish brown in life, are often as white as those of thoroughbred Dorking fowls, though now and then specimens will show a darkish tinge that stains the edges of the tarsal scales. The under surfaces of the feet are well protected by cushions; the claws, slightly curved, are sharp at their points, admirable for scratching, yet they are not shaped like those of the domestic fowl, which are adapted for traversing hard ground as well as for that purpose. The robust tarsi, defended by hard scales, are articulated with the tibiæ by very strong joints, which must give to the kiwi great power of leaping or jumping, and thus enable it to scale fallen trees and search along their upper surfaces for insects. The hind toes and claws help in maintaining the position of the bird when fossicking about the prostrate trunks, strengthening the hold, and preventing it from slipping to the ground when reaching down.

The cry of the kiwi is not heard till nightfall, or, as the digger expresses it technically but truthfully, “not till the night shift comes on.” We have paid great attention to the call; to us it sounded like “kvee, kvee, kvee,” repeated sometimes as many as twenty times in succession, with moderate haste; we noticed that the cry had scarcely ceased before it was thus replied to

“kurr, kurr, kurr.” These calls were heard through the night, commencing sometime after sundown and ceasing about three o'clock in the morning; we never heard a call after dawn.

The breeding season extends over several months; eggs have been obtained on the West Coast during a great part of the year. The home is to be found usually beneath the spreading roots of trees, in logs, or under rocks, and will contain sometimes one or two eggs or young, but never more. The nests are found on the bare soil, and are never constructed of dried fern and grasses. The pair of birds usually remain together during some months and share the labours of incubation, but the male apparently allows much of the labour of rearing the young to devolve on the female. The young have been found at a short distance from the family abode—in a nursery in fact. They are quaint looking little animals, with not too much of the savour of youth about them, being nearly exact miniatures of the adult; that well known ornithic-characteristic—change of colour—troubles them not; there is no young state of plumage with them, none of that half-pronounced variation in tone, or tint of colouration, which calls for the nice discrimination of the practised ornithologist when questions of age have to be settled. They assume not seasonal distinctions of dress; in winter and summer they adhere to their sober colours with quaker-like pertinacity.

The separate lodging is probably not set up till the young are well able to forage for themselves under the guidance and protection of the old birds; the family party is not necessarily broken up, because all its members do not abide together in one place of hiding and rest. There does not appear to be any reason for believing kiwis to be great travellers, ample supplies of food are to be obtained by fossicking around their homes. Judging from tracks, they appear to resort to the same holes for some time, probably till the family has consumed the more favourite kinds of food in the vicinity. Kiwis seem to adopt the same squatting posture as the rowi, and are quite as lethargic, suffering themselves to be captured without any other resistance than a feeble struggle, in which, at worst, a scratch or two would punish incautious handling. As for defence, the domestic cock or hen would be terrible as “a raging lion” compared to this harmless bush fowl.

They suffer from at least two races of parasites.

Note.—December 17th. Took a kiwi out of a log, very white skin, legs, and feet; it was infested with a species of Pediculus, sandy in colour, and remarkably active in its movements; immediately below the chin hung a slatish coloured species of Acarus, which maintained a very firm hold, and was dislodged with difficulty.

Sometimes the kiwi has been found very high up on the ranges, not very far below the snow it is said, but always in the bush.

Note.—December 24th. Took a kiwi from rather a deep hole beneath a fragment of rock, just within the scrub bush, about a mile westward of the Franz Joseph glacier; about two miles further to the west, near the north bank of the Waio river, found a pair of kiwis in a hole under the roots of a large konine (Fuschia excorticata).

This pair of birds gave the following measurements:—

It will be observed from these dimensions that the hen slightly exceeds the cock in size, and that this disparity is most noticeable in the length of the bill. It is also commonly said that the female kiwi is the larger bird, and dissection of several specimens confirmed this statement. In all cases we found the gizzards to contain a very considerable quantity of rough pieces of slate and quartz, also rarely a few very hard seeds. These stony fragments in a fair average gizzard weighed as much as 114½ grains, five of the largest pieces weighing about five grains each. We believe the hard seeds had not been picked up for food, but for the purpose of trituration, probably in some locality where bits of stone were rarely met with.

When the kiwi is deprived of its skin or feathers, immediately below the lower neck on each side at the base of the wings, there may be noticed a rather angular-shaped protuberance not unlike the mamma of certain animals. These are adipose deposits of very firm texture, which we incline to believe are of material assistance during incubation. The difficulty that has been felt in understanding how an egg so disproportionate in size can be successfully hatched by a bird not larger than an ordinary barn-door fowl has led to many curious surmises. According to Mr. Docherty the kiwi, with her egg deposited on the bare soil, proceeds with the labour of incubation by arranging the egg between the feet, its axis or long diameter being kept parallel to the body. Now, the keelless sternum being laid on the egg, with the præpectoral masses of fat pressing on its oval sweep between the bilge and blunt end, may it not be inferred that its monstrous bulk is thus kept from slipping, while receiving its due supply of heat. Being easily turned by rotary motion initiated perhaps by the feet, the warmth derived from these fatty tumours also makes up at one end of the egg for the entire covering of the opposite extremity by the body of the bird, and thus equalizes its temperature to a certain extent. The kiwi, when relieved by its mate, or when resuming its sitting attitude after food search, would but have to reverse the position previously

maintained, in order to distribute over the entire surface of the egg a fair and equal amount of heat. The sitting pose assumed by various species of birds is in itself a study not devoid of interest either to the naturalist or the physiologist.

It is probable that, as in the case of struthious birds, the gizzard stones are disgorged, but we have no evidence thereof; it would be most interesting to ascertain if such regurgitation takes place, also if any correlation could be traced to seasonal or sexual conditions. The fecund kiwi within a brief period has to furnish a large supply of calcareous material for the formation of the egg shell; amongst gallinaceous birds in some cases the requisite supply of lime may be as considerable in proportion to the size of the bird, but longer time is given for its elimination and deposition; Gallus, Perdiœ, or Coturnix may be cited as examples, the prolificacy of these genera being evidenced by the production of from twelve to fifteen eggs, but the formation of these spreads over many days. The inquiries which suggest themselves are as follows:—To what extent (if any) do the gizzard stones affect the supply of necessary calcareous material for the wants of the female? Are the fragments of stone in the gizzard of the female greater previously to the breeding season than at other periods of the year? It must not be forgotten that the difficulty of obtaining the lime supply can only be fairly estimated by personal acquaintance with the habitat of the kiwi.

The feather of the Apteryx as distinguished from the emu, exhibits the peculiarity of not possessing an accessary plume; the barrel is very short in reference to the shaft and its diameter small. Taxidermists allege that the plumage of the kiwi is loosely attached to the skin and readily drops out, and a reason to account for the ease with which the quill parts from its sac might probably be found in the drying up of certain secretions after death. In dissecting specimens we found that the quills of the feathers over some portions of the trunk were deeply seated in the skin, so much so that we believe the bird would instantly feel the contact of external objects that might touch the spinal and femoral plumage. The thick tough skin which envelopes and protects this night toiler, working amidst the humid mosses of the bush, is rendered more completely defensive by being thus endowed with a keen sense of touch, for by the slightest displacement of its feathers the retiring cautiousness of the bird is at once awakened, and it is enabled to shrink from danger.

Dogs readily follow the scent of the Apteryx; those belonging to miners and prospectors destroy great numbers, far more than either they or their owners consume. We have observed that some kiwi-hunting dogs become so dainty that they content themselves with tearing off the head for the sake of consuming the brains, leaving the rest of the carcase untouched. Dogs that have lost their masters and have gradually entered upon a wild life,

are on the increase on some parts of the coast. Several were heard of up the Wanganui river as being in packs, but no attempt had been made to destroy and stamp out this beginning of a serious nuisance to the settler. Bushmen do not dislike the flesh of the kiwi, nor is this fact at all surprising to those acquainted with it, for although the meat is coarse it has a gamey flavour. We found the kiwi made excellent soup and stew, flavoured with pepper and salt, a few leaves of Drimys, tender shoots of Rhipogonum, and Schefflera digitata, or piki-piki (the young curled tops of Asplenium bulbiferum). The gizzard is especially delicate, very unlike that decidedly tough organ of the domestic fowl. Mr. Docherty reports the eggs to be excellent eating.

This bird, it is said, exists in great abundance in the “Sound country” of the S.W. coast, but we fear that an evil day is at hand for these quaint denizens of the ancient forest; the requisitions of diggers, of collectors for museums, and the cruel slaughter by dogs, they might outlast for years; these causes are rapidly thinning their numbers, but they are not suddenly sweeping the Apteryx from the face of the earth. The new source of danger it is said arises from “that deformed thief fashion.” A. demand is springing up for the skins to furnish material for muffs for frivolous women; although the thought may seem far-fetched, who knows but this female vanity may be the means of modifying the serene climate of the West Coast, by causing the extermination of an ancient race of insect eaters, usefully employed as preservers of the forest. However much on economical grounds we may question the right or policy of permitting the extirpation of so useful a check on insect life, in this colony a strong protest against such barbarity cannot be expected; a few lovers of nature might raise their voices against it, but their words would fall unheeded unless backed by general opinion from without our little sphere. Instead of protest it is more likely that some blatant announcement would be circulated of the establishment of a new local industry. It would not be the first instance of living on destruction which could be euphemistically explained as “subduing the wilderness.”

That the race of the Apterygidœ is indeed ancient is proved by their being found on islands separated by deep channels from the main land.

Before concluding these remarks on the straight-billed kiwi it should be stated that specimens obtained south of the Waitaroa river, in Westland, present some differences of plumage by which they can readily be distinguished from skins in the Canterbury Museum, which were obtained in the neighbourhood of Hokitika. The birds from the northerly districts have a more flocculent plumage, lighter in tone than those which are found in the country lying under the shadow of Mount Cook.

Specimens are occasionally met with that are here and there marked with white, as on the anterior neck, thigh, etc.

basks on the sunlit crags till its rapid digestion relieves it from temporary repletion, and it is once more ready for sea; when on the rocks it may be noticed drying its plumage with outstretched wings just in the same manner as does P. carbo. This shag swims low in the water, the tail is kept about level with the surface, and appears to afford great help to the bird when it essays to rise on the wing from the water; this feat is accomplished by a slow ungraceful action, three or four leaps or bounds being necessary with the body held partly upright before it is fairly launched in flight. When perched the tail affords help in maintaining the almost perpendicular attitude the bird then assumes, and it keeps its equilibrium on the steepest cliffs as firmly as if supported by a self-adjusting tripod. The site of a nesting place is often in some sheltered nook in the cliffs, where, perhaps, whole rows of their structures may be observed in close neighbourhood and frequently the position chosen is almost, if not entirely, inaccessible. Both males and females labour in building their homes, which are often constructed of Algœ, placed on a foundation of sticks. We have seen the birds carrying quite a large bunch of material at a time, so large and cumbersome the load that they have now and then been unable to effect a landing at the first attempt; a wide circuit has enabled them to place their burthen on the spot where the nest was to be raised.

As in the case of birds in many other and far removed genera, the constructive faculty appears most developed in the female; we have often noticed her sitting on the nest carefully and deftly arranging the tufts of material brought by her mate, some portion of which is collected from a great distance. We once saw, in a strong N.E. breeze, a fine bird beating out of Port Cooper, with a large piece of stick carried fore and aft. When the nest is completed it may be about 5 in. high and about 14 in. across; it soon becomes foul and loathsome (a mass of writhing maggots), with a most horrible stench. Three eggs are laid, measuring in length 2 in. 4 lines, in width 1 in. 6 lines, of greenish white, more or less clouded with chalky white. In a brief space they become mottled and stained to an extent that qnite alters their character; these marks are no doubt occasioned by the incubating bird sometimes feeding at home, as bloody smears on the eggs are not otherwise to be accounted for unless thus painted by the fresh fish-blood on the bird's mandibles when the eggs are duly turned in the nest. The labour of incubation is fairly shared by each sex, as we have noticed that when one bird has left its charge its mate has immediately supplied its place; when alarmed on her nest the shag utters a low note, rapidly opening and closing the mandibles, which gives a peculiar throbbing appearance to the cheek. From the middle of October the breeding season extends through the earlier summer months.

The embryo is at first flesh-coloured, and gradually assumes a darker hue on its upper surface till it reaches a dull slate colour; the mandibles light horn-

colour, darkest at the extremeties, gulal pouch well developed. The young, blind when hatched, is of a lead colour, darkish about the eyes and along the centre of the back; mandibles and gulal pouch flesh colour; tips of mandibles pinkish; tarsi lighter than the rest of the body; tongue very small; pectinated apparatus of the middle claw undeveloped; the entire body naked, being utterly devoid of down or feather. The first indication of plumage is the sprouting of the hair-like down of the tail, dark brown down next appears on the upper surface, whilst the under parts are covered with whitish down; the condition of the young always appears most thriving, the abdomen is distended as though stuffed. In the next change in the appearance of the young we note that it has assumed a dull smoky colour, lightest on the abdomen, the chin, and tarsi, the latter lightest on the inside; another change occurs before quitting the nest, the whole upper surface becoming of a dull slaty brown, almost white beneath; lore, chin, and pouch purplish flesh; up to this stage the aural orifice is unprotected. When clothed with down the middle claw is still wanting in its pectinated apparatus.

Whilst in the nests the young stretch up their long necks and move their heads in a snake-like manner from side to side; their note is hoarse and brief like the woffling bark of a puppy; when of a size to fill up their home the old birds remain at the edge of the nest. Below the nests there may often be observed a substance that looks not unlike some species of coral, this is formed of the exuviæ of these birds, and by the solidifying of the liquid ejections which the shag so constantly produces. A well-known sea mark near Banks Peninsula, known as “White-wash Head,” owes its distinctive name to the colour it has assumed from the accumulated white droppings of this sea fowl. It leaves its nest with reluctance as it is not a shy bird. The position chosen for the nest is perhaps rather to secure the advantage of shelter than from the fear of depredators. Its gruff brief note is not often heard; when ashore we have noticed that it frequently opens its mandibles widely as though the trachea was irritated by the presence of some parasite.

Ticks sometimes are found firmly fixed on the throat. It is worth noting that the plumage of the young when they leave the nest is of a dull inconspicuous tint, which may be of great advantage, not only in obtaining its food, by securing a nearer approach to its prey without observation, but also by its tone affording a certain amount of protection, as either afloat or ashore its colour harmonises with its surroundings, so that it is far from being a striking object; young females up to the period of their first nest differ but little from the tints of the young state. In this state of plumage these birds most frequently visit the shallower waters of the bays in the harbours; at sea we have never met with shags far from land, hence the name of ocean shag

does not seem appropriate. It will be observed that the middle or cleansing claw has a slight twist, and the comb differs from that on the middle claw of Ardea in the case of the bird under notice; the comb really appears to be an addition carried out to the end of the claw, and is doubtless an useful and well-used instrument; it is flexible to a certain degree, and it would be more proper to describe it as a scraping instrument than a comb; in fact it is the inside edge of the middle claw produced into a scraper of about sixteen broad curved flexible teeth.

As far as we know the spotted shag dives from the surface of the water, not from the heights from which some of the anserine order dash on their prey, yet those who examine its structure will note how admirably its anatomy is calculated to resist the strain or pressure caused by its manner of obtaining food, the coracoid and adjacent bones being not only in themselves of great strength, but also firmly attached to the sternum. The eye subject to so much exposure is defended in addition to the armature of the lore by a circlet of round flexible plates. In life at certain seasons these are of deep turquoise blue, and add greatly to the appearance of this bird.

Perhaps no other species of our Pelecanidœ is sooner or more completely robbed by death of so much of its beauty and character as P. punctatus, the evanescent colours of the membranes that decorate as well as protect certain parts of its body, and the varying tints of yellow, green, blue, and purple, defy the skill of the taxidermist to preserve and fade away into the semblance of a mass of leathery wrinkles.

The changes that take place in the plumage and in the colouration of the membranous processes have led some persons to make two species of the spotted shag, but a careful study of a large series of specimens procured at various periods of the year, and a tolerably close observation of the bird in its favourite haunts, prevents the writer from coinciding in this view. Having described the young from the embryo through several of its changes of appearance till it is of a size almost to quit the nest we now give some notes of its state of plumage at different ages and seasons.

Young female killed in March. Upper surface dull smoky grey, the apex of the scapulars of dull greenish brown; outer wing-coverts dull brown, edged with pale fawn; under surface white; thighs dull brown; tail-coverts dark brown; tail dark brown, shafts white; lore and chin yellowish flesh, tarsi and feet dull flesh colour. Female killed in August—Upper surface dark smoky brown, with a greenish glint on the head and neck, scapulars terminating in a deep green spot; back dark brown, changing to dark green; under surface white; throat and anterior of neck pale ash, leaving a broad stripe of white from the base of the upper mandible below the eye as far as the wing; lore and chin (of fine texture) dull, rather yellowish flesh colour; tarsi and feet

Platycercus novœ-zealandiœ, Sparrm.

My Pl. forsteri, based upon Forster's authority, must become united with this species.

Nestor esslingii.

This will prove to be only a variety of N. meridionalis. When I wrote my monograph on the Parrots, I had to admit it as a good species because there was a notice by Dr. Haast, stating he had seen the bird himself during his stay on the Alps; he mistaking the alpine form of N. meridionalis for the above variety.

Nestor occidentalis, Bull.

This can scarcely stand longer as a species, and is after my examinations inseparable from N. meridionalis. The diagnosis given by Capt. Hutton “cere very small” (“Cat. Birds N.Z.” p. 20) is of no specific value.

Halcyon vagans, Less.

Having examined a large series of this kingfisher I consider it as a good species, distinguished from sanctus, Vig., by the constant broader bill. The colours are generally darker, but certain specimens are difficult to distinguish from sanctus.

Certhiparus novœ-zealandiœ, Gml.

I agree, after examination of specimens from both islands, with Capt. Hutton, in uniting C. maculicaudus with this species, but the figure in the “Voy. l'Astrol.,” t. 11., f.3, as well as the description, are by no means accurate enough.

Sphenœacus fulvus, Gray.

After my suggestions Sph. rufescens, Bull. will probably turn out to be this species. Mr. Gray does not notice a proper locality, so it might be that his bird came also from the Chatham Islands.

Petroica longipes, Garn., and P. albifrons, Gml.

These birds seem to be scarcely distinct. They are by no means true Petroicœ, but form a singular genus, Myioscopus, Reich., distinguished by its long legs, the shorter wings and the stouter bill. Myioscopus belongs to the Luscininœ, and is nearest to Erythacus.

Anthus grayi, Bp. (Hutton, “Cat. Birds N.Z.,” p. 13).

This is based on Forster's “Alauda, No. 96” (Descr. anim., p. 91), and has no right to stand as a species. Most probably Forster described only a darker coloured specimen of A. novœ-zealandiœ.

Petroica macrocephala, Gml., and P. toitoi, Less.

These are Muscicapine birds, and form the well-marked genus Myiomoira, Reich. P. dieffenbachii cannot be separated from P. macrocephala. I examined specimens from both Islands.

Rhipidura fuliginosa, Sparrm., = Rh. tristis, Hombr. and Jacq.

All the specimens I have seen showed not the slightest sign of a white spot above the eye. So I hesitate to unite Rh. melanura, Gray, as Capt. Hutton has done, although I am not convinced of the validity of the latter.

Keropia tanagra, Schleg.

There can be not the slightest doubt about the identity of K. hectori, Bull. with this species, as Prof. Schlegel kindly compared one of Dr. Buller's types with his type in the Leyden Museum.

Glaucopis wilsoni, Bp.

Gl. olivascens will prove to be this species, as noticed by Capt. Hutton, but it must be based upon an extremely large female, as the measurements given by Von Pelzeln are much larger than any yet recorded.

Aplonis obscurus, Du Bus.

This can not be admitted as a New Zealand bird; there is no evidence of its occurrence in New Zealand.

Creadion carunculatus, Gml.

It is somewhat satisfactory that the examination of the types by Capt. Hutton has shown Cr. cinereus, Bull. to be undoubtedly the young of the above-named species, as I suggested long since (“Journ. f. Orn.,” 1867, p. 343).

Prof. Giebel, in his new “Thesaurus Ornithologiæ,” puts this characteristic form as a synonym of Anthochœra inauris, Gould! I think ornithologists will not be very satisfied with this arrangement.

Ardea egretta, Gml.—A. alba, Finsch, “Journ. f. Orn.,” 1870, p. 345.

I received specimens from both Islands, which are inseparable from A. egretta, the American form of our A. alba, which differs from the latter only in having the legs and feet black. The New Zealand specimens are indistinguishable from Mexican and Chilian specimens in the Bremen collection.

Ardea sacra, Gml.

A specimen from New Zealand agrees with others from Australia, the Pelew and other Pacific Islands.

Himantopus novœ-zealandiœ, Gould.

This is the unicolour black one, and the same as H. melas, Homb. and Jacq. The pied stilt, therefore, named H. novœ-zealandiœ by Capt. Hutton, (“Cat. Birds N.Z.,” p. 29), will be nothing as a state of the black species, whereas H. novœ-zealandiœ, Potts (Trans. N.Z. Inst., Vol. II., p. 70), is probably H. leucocephalus, Gould.

Tringa canutus, Hutton (“Cat. Birds N.Z.,” p. 30).

This, I expect, will turn out to be Tr. crassirostris, Temm. and Schleg. (Faun. jap. pl. 64), the larger eastern representative of canutus.

Ocydromus troglodytes, Gml.; O. australis, Finsch, “Journ. f. Orn.” 1870, p. 352.

This species has been hitherto confused with australis, Sparrm. I shall treat of all the New Zealand Ocydromi (four species) extensively in my paper, with full descriptions and their corrected synonymy. O. troglodytes is the largest, and easily recognizable by its olive brownish-yellow colouration, and is the bird figured by Gray (“Ereb. and Terr.” t. 14).

Ocydromus australis, Sparrm.

Considerably smaller, and of an olive, rufescent-brown, ground colour; tail feathers barred regularly with black and rufous brown.

I received one specimen from Dr. Haast.

Ocydromus fuscus, Du Bus.

I examined one of the types of O. nigricans, Bull. There can be no doubt of its identity, as I declared already.

Rallus pectoralis, Less.

Specimens from the Okarita Lagoon, sent by Dr. Haast, agree perfectly with others from Australia, the Pelew and Samoa Islands.

Mr. Potts' new R. pictus (Ibis, 1872, p. 36) based upon a specimen from the same locality, has no claim as a species.

Lestris parasitica, Hutton (“Cat. Birds N.Z.,” p. 40)

Is apparently not this species, but L. longicaudatus, Briss. (Buffoni, Boie—spinicauda, Hardy nec Layard.)

Larus novœ-hollandiœ, Steph. (L. scopulinus, Finsch, Hutton, Potts.)

I shall describe all the plumages of this very confused species and settle the synonymy.

The larger L. jamesoni, Gould, is not yet separated exactly, although there exists a great variety in size, especially in the bill.

Larus pomare, Bruch. “Journ. f. Orn.,” 1855, p. 285, nec 1855, p. 103.

To this species belong L. melanorhynchus, Bull.; L. bulleri et jamesoni,

Dysporus serrator, Banks.

This species is by no means identical with D. capensis, Licht., as Capt. Hutton is inclined to believe, but is a well distinguished species.

D. capensis is easy to recognize in having all the tail feathers black and in having the naked gular space extended in a narrow line to about the middle of the neck in front.

Graculus carbo, L.

Specimens from New Zealand, received through Captain Hutton, are exactly the same as those from Europe, China, Japan, etc.

Graculus brevirostris, Gould.

Whether this species is really different from Gr. melanoleucus, Vieill., I doubt very much, after having seen more specimens in a different state of plumage. One specimen is throughout black, another has chin and throat white, and in a third the whole under surface to the flank is white, differing in no way from specimens in the characteristic plumage of melanoleucus.

The young of this latter species are black on the under parts.

Eudyptes pachyrhynchus, Gray.

In examining two species from New Zealand I find that the characteristics pointed out for this species by Mr. Gray are not constant. A comparison with E. chrysocome, Forst., seems necessary.

Eudyptes chrysolophus, Brandt.

Prof. Schlegel enumerates s. n. Spheniscus diadematus, Gould, a specimen in the Leyden Museum (“Mus. P.B. Urinat,” p. 8), which certainly belongs to this species. This specimen is labelled as coming from New Zealand, but without the name of the collector.

Eudyptula minor, Forster.

I see no reason to distinguish Eu. undina, Gould, specifically after having carefully compared more specimens.

Apteryx australis, Shaw.

Through the kindness of Dr. Buller I received two specimens of the Apteryx of the North Island for comparison, which after careful and repeated examination I cannot consider as distinct species. In respect to the colours I have specimens from the South Island before me which are as dark as those from the North Island. The plumage of the latter is harsher to the touch, but in a series there are also different degrees observable. The only difference which I can notice, and which perhaps may be constant, consists in the structure of the feathers which cover the occiput and hind neck. These, in the North Island bird, have longer and harsher black shafts, whereas in the

of the Birds of New Zealand” as belonging to the Chatham Islands is 47, but my son has now reason for believing that the weka (Ocydromus australis), the kakapo (Stringops habroptilus), and the kiwi (Apteryx australis), which were all inserted in the catalogue in question on the authority of a former notice of the fauna of the Islands, published in the fourth volume of the Linnæan Society's Journal—Botany—were erroneously assigned to them. Of the total number in the catalogue which have now been ascertained to belong to the Islands, my son obtained specimens of thirty-eight species, but was unable to procure species of Ardea sacra, Ardea poiciloptera, Limosa uropygialis, Rallus dieffenbachii, and Anas chlorotis, whilst the memoranda are silent as to others which he did obtain, and notably as to Diomedea exulans, Thalassidroma nereis, and Haladroma berardii.

He obtained two species entirely new to science, which have been named by Capt. Hutton Petroica traversii and Rallus modestus, whilst, besides these, he has added five other species to the avi-fauna of the Chatham Islands, namely, Chrysococcyx plagosus, Haladroma berardii, Graculus africanus, Eudyptes pachyrhynchus, and Eudyptula minor, of which the three former were not even previously known to the avi-fauna of New Zealand.

I need hardly say that the Chatham Islands are situated about 450 miles to the eastward of New Zealand, in lat. 42° South, and consist of one large island called Chatham Island, seventy miles long, and which is almost in the shape of an isosceles triangle, the north-western side, about thirty miles in length, forming the base,—of Pitt Island, which is about ten miles in circumference, and of several small rocky islets, of which the principal are named Mangare and South-east Island. The surface of the main land is undulating, and generally covered with grass, whilst all round it is a fringe of bush, more or less broad, containing a considerable number of small trees. Upon this island there are several lagoons, the largest of which is twenty miles in length, by from three to eight in breadth, the waters of which are separated from the sea by a sand beach from half-a-mile to a mile wide. The surface of Pitt Island is completely covered with bush of the same class as that on the main island. South-east Island contains the highest land in the group. Mangare is very small, and the surface stony, but nearly covered with low rigid scrub. Owing to the constant swell from the south-eastward it is extremely difficult to land on these smaller islets, as the sea rises and falls many feet with each wave, rendering it dangerous for boats to approach too closely; indeed, it is only by patiently watching an opportunity that a landing can be effected, and re-embarkation is equally difficult and dangerous, whilst the treacherous nature of the weather increases both the danger and the difficulty. It will be seen, in the course of these notes, that my son succeeded in obtaining a considerable number of birds from these smaller islands, where

they have no doubt been preserved from destruction by the very inaccessibility of their habitats, both to man and to other animals. It is interesting to observe that, except the two new species added to science, nearly the whole of the birds occupying these islands are identical with New Zealand species. It is not at all improbable that Haladroma berardii and Graculus africanus will also be found on our coasts, leaving only Petroica traversii, Rallus modestus, Chrysococcyx plagosus, and Anthornis melanocephala as absolutely peculiar to the Chathams. Of these again Petroica traversii possesses exactly the habits, and even the common note, of Petroica albifrons and P. longipes, whilst Anthornis melanocephala is too closely allied to Anthornis melanura to render their common descent at all doubtful. The differences between the Petroicœ are not so great as those between the two species of New Zealand Orthonix, one of which only inhabits each of the two larger islands of New Zealand. This almost identity of the avi-fauna of the Chatham Islands with that of New Zealand is observable also in the flora, of which my son, during his late visit, made almost exhaustive collections. These are now in the hands of Baron von Mueller, of Melbourne, for examination. I am led to believe that the identity which was found to exist between the great majority of the species obtained by him in 1867 and species inhabiting New Zealand, is maintained in connection with the much larger number of species which he collected during his recent visit, but upon this point I have no doubt Baron von Mueller will fully remark when he publishes the results of his investigations.

I have had no opportunity of ascertaining how far this resemblance extends in the case of the other forms of life found in the Chathams, but I think it extremely probable that the greater number of the few insects, etc., which my son obtained will be found to be identical with species also occupying New Zealand. This almost identity of the organic productions of the two groups suggests forcibly a former, and (speaking geologically as regards time) not long past, connection between them, or, in other words, extension of the lower lands of New Zealand so as to embrace the Chatham Islands since the great mass of the existing living productions of both have assumed their present forms. Interesting fields of speculation are opened out as to whether it is the Chatham Island or the New Zealand species now presenting differences of a specific nature which have undergone variation; as for instance in the case of the birds, the two species of Anthornis, and in the case of the ferns, the two different forms of Lomaria discolor; but I must leave more speculative and more competent minds to deal with this question. I may add that my son made diligent search and inquiry for moa bones, but did not obtain any, nor any information respecting them.

In the following notes, which are to be assumed to have been written by

my son, the numbers opposite the species thus distinguished have reference to those in Captain Hutton's Catalogue.

2. Circus assimilis.

This bird is rare in the islands, and I was unable to obtain any specimens for skinning. I found one which had been dead for some days, but which so far as I could judge from the then condition of the plumage, etc., was identical with the New Zealand bird.

11. Prosthemadera novœ-zealandiœ.

I found this bird on the Main and on Pitt Island, where it is not uncommon, but I saw no specimen on Mangare. I could detect no differences between it and the birds found in New Zealand.

12. Anthornis melanocephala.

This bird occurred in the greatest numbers on Mangare, though I also found it frequently on the main island, but more rarely on Pitt Island. Its note is much richer and fuller than that of its New Zealand congener. It begins to breed in October, the nest being composed of grass and feathers, large and coarsely constructed. As a rule the female lays three eggs. The egg has a brownish pink tinge, and is spotted with a darker colour.

Length, 1.05 in.; diameter, .75 in.

14. Zosterops lateralis.

This bird has become very numerous, and is especially destructive to the smaller fruits. During severe winters large numbers are said to die from cold and hunger. During my stay at Pitt Island many were found drowned in the pig tub, and I observed in New Zealand that these birds frequent the pits in which house refuse is thrown in search of food. They appear to be carnivorous. They are said to have first appeared in the Chatham Islands after the great fire in Australia on Black Thursday.

21. Sphenœacus rufescens.

I only found this bird on Mangare, where it is not uncommon. Its peculiar habit of hopping rapidly from one point of concealment to another renders it difficult to secure. It has a peculiar whistle, very like that which a man would use in order to attract the attention of another at some distance, and although I knew that I was alone on the island, I frequently stopped mechanically on hearing the note of this bird, under the momentary impression that some other person was whistling to me. It also uses the same cry as Sphenœacus punctatus. It is solitary in its habits and appears to live exclusively on insects.

26. Gerygone albofrontata.

Not common, but found in all the islands. It has very much the habits of the New Zealand species.

29. Petroica dieffenbachii.

Not common, but found in all the islands, but I doubt the propriety of separating this bird from Petroica macrocephala.

—. Petroica traversii, sp. n., Hutton.

I only found this bird at Mangare, where it is not uncommon. It is very fearless, possessing in other respects the habits of Petroica albifrons and P. longipes. Its ordinary note is also the same, but I did not hear it sing. It appears to be specially obnoxious to Anthornis melanocephala, which always attacks it most savagely when they meet. There is no apparent difference in the plumage of the sexes.

33. Anthus novœ-zealandiœ.

38. Rhipidura flabellifera.

48. Platycercus novœ-zealandiœ.

These birds are not uncommon in all the islands, and exhibit precisely the same habits as in New Zealand.

49. Platycercus auriceps.

I never found this bird on the main island, but it is numerous on the other islands. I was often for some time surprised at finding the bodies of dead birds which I had thrown away partially eaten, and could not account for the fact until I found this bird feeding on them. This is also a habit of Nestor meridionalis. In other respects the habits of this bird are the same as in New Zealand. I obtained a specimen on Mangare, with a faint yellow tinge on the head.

—. Chrysococcyx plagosus.

This bird is nearly, if not absolutely, identical with the Australian species. It appears on the islands in the month of September, and leaves towards the end of January. If this bird visits the Chathams from Australia it is remarkable (as Capt. Hutton has observed) that it must pass over the large islands of New Zealand and extend its flight an additional 450 miles.

56. Carpophaga novœ-zealandiœ.

Now common on all the islands, and abundant on Mangare, where it breeds. It is said to have made its first appearance on the islands about 1855. Eggs whitish, spotted with brownish-pink on the larger end. Length 1.47 in., diameter 1.07 in.

64. Charadrius bicinctus.

Not common, and found chiefly in open grassy country.

65. Thinornis novœ-zealandiœ.

I only found this bird on Mangare and on parts of the coast of Pitt Island. It has been called the “bowing-bird” by the settlers, from its habit of bowing its body when approached.

68. Hœmatopus longirostris.

Not common and usually found on sandy beaches.

74. Ardea poiciloptera.

I did not obtain a specimen of this bird, which has become very rare on the Islands, but I was informed by persons who had seen it, and who knew the New Zealand bird, that it was precisely similar.

76. Limosa uropygialis.

I did not obtain a specimen of this bird, but was informed that it visited the islands in spring, leaving them in the autumn.

83. Gallinago pusilla.

I only found this bird on Mangare, where it is not common. I never saw it on the wing except when disturbed, and, being very tame, it then only flies a short distance. It lives in holes in the rocks, coming out towards evening to feed. Its chief food is worms and grubs, for which it scratches the ground much in the manner of a fowl; from this habit the settlers have given it the name of the “chicken-bird.” Its cry is peculiar, something like the note which is produced by blowing into a hollow reed at one end of which a finger is placed and frequently and suddenly removed. This note is repeated rapidly six or seven times. The holes it inhabits are about eighteen inches deep, and evidently artificial. In the two instances in which I obtained young birds in the nests there was only one bird in each case. I could not detect any difference in plumage between the sexes.

—. Rallus modestus, sp. n. Hutton.

Matirakahu of the Morioris. Of this bird, which I only found on Mangare, I obtained two specimens, one a full grown female, and the other young one. It is not known on any of the other islands, and although I was on Mangare for twelve days these were the only specimens I saw. The birds in question were found in a very rocky place, and when disturbed sought to hide themselves amongst the stones. I had no opportunity of studying its habits, and having unfortunately failed in obtaining the male parent bird, I am unable to say whether its plumage is different from that of the female. It appears to be a nocturnal bird, as those I obtained came out of the rocks at dusk, evidently to feed. Both the parent birds had escaped in the first

instance, but the female was attracted by the plaintive cry of the young one which I had caught. I caught sight of the male bird also, but it was too dark to pursue it amongst the scrub.

90. Ortygometra affinis.

I obtained this bird on Chatham Island. It inhabits wet swamps, and is very rare and difficult to obtain. When hunted with dogs it takes wing, but only for a short distance, and, after dropping, it runs with great rapidity through the long sedges and swamp grasses. Many of the oldest white inhabitants had never seen it, and the Maoris but seldom. In the only specimen I obtained was an egg, which was unfortunately broken during the dissection of the bird for ascertaining the sex. The egg was about the size of an ordinary walnut, of a brownish-olive colour, spotted with darker brown.

92. Ortygometra tabuensis.

This bird is extremely rare, and occupies grassy spots in swampy places. I only obtained one young specimen.

94. Porphyrio melanotus.

Common on the banks of the lagoon on Chatham Island, but rare on Pitt Island, and not found on the smaller ones.

99. Anas superciliosa.

Common throughout the islands.

100.Rhynchaspis variegata.

Not common, and chiefly found in small lagoons.

106. Lestris catarractes.

The common name of this bird amongst sailors is the “sea-hen.” I only found it in certain places on Pitt Island, and on a small islet about two miles from that island. It commences breeding in the beginning of December. The eggs, two in number, are laid on a nest roughly made of grass, and placed on rocky spots near the shore. The egg and nest are scarcely distinguishable from those of Larus dominicanus, except that the former are a little larger. One egg only is usually hatched. Whilst attempting to take the eggs of these birds both parents attacked me most savagely, and I had some trouble in obtaining them. Both parents take part in the work of incubation. Round the nests I found remains of several small sea birds, chiefly Prion turtur. During the day time I saw this bird usually sitting in sunny places on the higher cliffs, only now and then taking short flights. I never saw it hunting for food during the day time, but whilst I was on Mangare I heard it constantly during the night, swooping at the small birds which come on shore to roost. I examined the stomachs of a good many, always finding the

contents to be Prion turtur, usually swallowed whole. This bird also attacks the young of the domestic fowl, frequently clearing off whole broods, where they breed in the bush. It attacks the albatros very savagely, and generally succeeds in driving it from its prey. Its flight is somewhat the same as that of Larus dominicanus, but it flaps the wing more rapidly than that bird. There is very little distinction in plumage between the male and female.

108. Larus dominicanus.

109. Larus scopulinus.

Both these birds are common, the former breeding on the banks of the big lagoon, and the latter in the same locality, and on the banks of smaller lakes.

113. Sterna frontalis.

A spring and summer visitor to the islands, where it first appears in August, but I am unable to say at what time it leaves. It breeds in October on the banks of the small lakes, and on rocky places near the coast.

119. Diomedea melanophrys.

Found on Pitt Island, where it probably breeds.

123. Ossifraga gigantea.

Stink-pot of the American whalers. This bird is difficult to obtain, except where the carcase of a whale or seal is cast ashore. It usually flies at a great height, but when a whale carcase is afloat they settle on it in thousands. Their flight is generally like that of the albatros, but they flap the wings oftener than that bird. Their power of scent appears to be wonderful. By good fortune I obtained the carcase of a large seal, and after taking off the skin I placed it in a quiet pool amongst the rocks. It had not been there more than an hour when at least forty of these birds attacked it, although I only observed one within sight before the carcase was placed in the pool. They are very wary, and do not settle until they have carefully examined their prey, and then only settle in the water swimming up to the food. They gorge themselves to such an extent as to become incapable of flight. On first landing on Mangare I found a number of these birds, which had gorged themselves on a shoal of fish which had been driven ashore, and several that I picked up and threw into the air fell again like stones. In several that I opened I found remains of fish and of Prion turtur. They breed in November, laying only one egg at a time. Like the albatros they only breed on rocky islets destitute of vegetation, the nests being placed on the edges of the cliffs.

124. Halodroma urinatrix.

Common on Pitt Island, and occasionally found on Mangare.

127. Puffinus tristis.

Common all round the coasts of the Chatham group. It burrows a horizontal hole, from three to four feet deep, and turning slightly to the right or left, in peaty ground. At the extremity of this hole it forms a rude nest composed of twigs and dead leaves. Only one egg is laid, and the male bird assists in the work of incubation. They are very savage whilst on the nest, biting and scratching those who molest them. The young bird is singularly fat, and when taken from the hole disgorges a quantity of oily matter of most offensive smell. This, however, is esteemed a delicacy by the Morioris, who hold the young birds over their mouths allowing the substance to drain into them. The old birds roost on shore, the noise they make during the whole night being absolutely frightful, resembling an exaggerated chorus of squalling children and love-making cats, in which the performers were numbered by thousands. From the manner in which this noise was intensified on each fresh arrival I could only conclude that the whole lot were squalling out their adventures during the day. When taken out of their holes they flutter about on the ground for some time, tumbling over stumps in a confused manner, but ultimately make for the sea.

139. Prion turtur.

Right-whale bird of the whalers. This bird occurs in immense numbers on the islands. It breeds in holes in the ground, laying a single egg in a nest composed of a few dead leaves. Both parents assist in the incubation. When the bird is taken from the hole it disgorges a quantity of greenish oily matter, which appears to be used as food for the young birds. Whilst on Mangare I often found these birds caught in the branches of scrubby trees, and could only account for this by supposing that they got caught whilst attempting to escape from Lestris catarractes. Egg pure white; length 1 in., diameter, 1 in.

141. Prion vittatus.

Blue Billy of the settlers. Breeds in cavities of cliffs on the sea shore, or in holes burrowed in the soft peaty soil which covers the tops of most of the small islets. The hole dips slightly, is from eighteen to twenty-four inches deep, and quite straight. It breeds in September, and only one egg is laid. Where the egg is laid in holes in rocks it is placed on the bare rock, but in the peaty holes a few leaves are found, but whether placed there by this bird or by smaller sea birds which use the same holes for breeding I cannot say. Both birds take part in incubation. They are not easily disturbed when sitting, pecking at the hand whilst the egg is being taken, but remaining on the nest after its removal. When taken from the holes they fly away with a wavy uncertain flight as if blinded by the sudden light. One mode of getting this and other sea birds is by lighting a large fire at night at the foot of a high

cliff, against which they dash themselves or, becoming stupified, are easily knocked down. In a cave on Pitt Island, which I reached by the aid of a rope, I found a cat which had eaten the heads off nearly a hundred young birds without the bodies being touched. Many old birds had also been killed by this cat. How it got there I cannot imagine. The egg is pure white; length 1.95 in., diameter 1.47 in.

142. Thalassidroma marina.

Common all round the islands. They are attracted by a fire at night, numbers throwing themselves into it. I have often felt them strike my tent, attracted by the light of the lamp. This bird walks with great difficulty owing to the length of the tarsus. I was informed that it breeds in the end of January.

147. Graculus carbo.

Not uncommon on the lagoons, but very shy.

148. Graculus carunculatus.

Not common. It breeds on a small islet near Pitt Island in November, but as I was then absent from Pitt Island I did not get the egg. It only comes on shore to roost on trees, generally fishing all day at some distance from the land.

—. Graculus africanus?

Like G. carunculatus this bird is only found in certain parts of Pitt Island. It breeds in November on the most inaccessible cliffs. I had much difficulty in obtaining specimens.

158. Eudyptes pachyrhynchus.

I obtained and brought to New Zealand a live specimen of this bird, which had come on shore to moult. I believe it to have been a young bird. It remained for nearly three weeks without food, but on reaching New Zealand it was fed partly on fish and partly on raw meat. It became very tame, following like a dog any one who fed it. It was unable to take its own food, which had to be placed in the gullet. It became very fat and appeared to thrive, but, unfortunately, I was unable to get fish for several days, owing to stormy weather, during which it was fed on meat. It died somewhat suddenly, which I attribute to the nature of the food, as, on being opened, it presented no appearance of disease. It used its flippers in climbing, and by their aid was able to travel up very steep places if at all rough. Nothing could be more quaint than the habits and appearance of this bird as it wandered about the garden, or followed those it knew. Though generally considered stupid, no doubt from its appearance, it was extremely cunning. When placed at night in an inclosure with some poultry it became master of

Two species of seal frequent our shores; the sea leopard (Stenorhynchus leptonyx) which is also found on ice floes in the Antarctic seas, and occasionally extends to Australia, and the fur seal (Arctocephalus cinereus), which is supposed to occur also on the southern coasts of Australia, and is closely related to, if not identical with, a species found at the Falkland Islands, Cape Horn, South Shetland, and South Georgia. In the Otago Museum there is also a skull that appears to belong to the sea elephant (Morunga proboscidea). Mr. Purdie informed me that it was picked up a long way inland.

Of the Cetacea some twelve or thirteen species are known, belonging to the six different families into which the marine members of this order have been divided, and it is remarkable that two thirds of them are endemic, that is not found anywhere else. Our two or three species of whale-bone whale have, up to the present, been found nowhere else. The sperm whale of our northern coasts is probably the same species as that found in Australia and the South Pacific (Catodon australis). It is certainly distinct from the northern sperm whale (C. macrocephalus) as the lower jaw is much narrower.^*

Our ziphoid whales, of which we have three or four species, are all endemic, and two of them (Berardius arnuxii and Mesoplodon hectori) belong to genera not found elsewhere. None, however, of our Delphiniidœ are confined to New Zealand. Delphinus novœ-zealandiœ inhabits the antarctic seas, and perhaps Tasmania; Lagenorhynchus clanculus is found throughout the Pacific Ocean, but not in Australia, and Orca capensis, a lower jaw of which is in the Auckland Museum, ranges from the Cape of Good Hope through the Southern Ocean to Chili, and is also found in the North Pacific and Tasmania. The black-fish (Globiocephalus macrorhynchus) is found in the South Pacific and Japan, but not in Australia. Our Cetacea therefore, contrary to what might have been expected, show a nearer relation to the Pacific and Antarctic Oceans than they do to Australia, and it is remarkable that no species of porpoise has as yet been described as found in New Zealand, although two inhabit Tasmania.

The absence of terrestrial Mammalia is one of the chief points of interest in New Zealand zoology, as it proves that there has been no land communication between this country and Australia since the latter was inhabited by Marsupials, for I consider that the so-called Maori rat and native dog were both introduced by human agency.^†

Sir George Grey informs me that he sent to the British Museum some grey “Maori rats” which had been caught in the interior of the South Island in 1847 by Mr. Torlesse, and that Dr. Gray had said that they were identical with a rat found in Polynesia, by which he must have meant the black rat (Mus rattus) for none of the islands in the Pacific possess an indigenous rat. Dr. Buller also collected a considerable amount of evidence to show that the “kiore-maori” was identical with a rat—now in the Colonial Museum—which he described (Trans. N.Z. Inst., III., p. 1) under the name of Mus novœ-zealandiœ, but which is certainly Mus rattus. Mr. Colenso says (“Proc. R. Soc. of Van Diemen's Land,” 1851, p. 301), in a letter to R. Gunn, Esql., dated 4th Sept., 1850, that after considerable trouble he had procured two specimens of the native rat, which he describes as “smaller than our English black rat (M. rattus) and not unlike it.” Against this we have the statement of Dr. Dieffenbach, who says (“New Zealand,” II., p. 185) that it was the English and not the Norway rat that killed off the “kiore-maori.” This, I think, must be a mistake, as all the Maoris attribute the destruction of the edible rat to the brown rat, and it could only have been from Maoris that Dr. Dieffenbach got his information. Mr. Murray also states (“Distr. of Mammals,” p. 277) that the Norway rat (M. decumanus) was not introduced into New Zealand in 1843, but he gives no evidence of the truth of this statement, and it is unquestionably erroneous.^* The whole of the reliable evidence that we have, therefore, goes to prove that the Maori rat was no other than M. rattus.

The so-called “native dog” has been determined by Dr. Gray to be Canis familiaris (“Pro. Zool. Soc.,” 1868, p. 508), and not the Australian species, or variety, called Canis dingo, which is the strongest possible evidence of its being merely an escaped domestic breed; indeed, I am not aware that any naturalist believes in an indigenous native dog except Dr. Haast, who has argued (Trans. N.Z. Inst., IV., p. 88) that a wild dog existed in New Zealand before the domesticated one, because in certain old Maori cooking places he has found remains of the dog but no gnawed bones, while in others, which he considers as of later date, he finds gnawed bones.^† But I am not aware that

short legs, and the presence of a hind toe elevated above the level of the others, shows an approach to the Gallinaceous order, while their long bill, with its slightly swollen tip, resembles in some measure that of the Scolopacidœ, which have also the same habit as the kiwi of feeling about on the ground with their bill. Gallinago pusilla moreover lives in holes, and only comes out at night (Travers, see Art. xxii).

Thus the Apterygidœ have a more generalised structure than the other Struthious birds; they therefore belong to an older type, and cannot with any degree of correctness be said to represent the extinct race of moas. The relations between the second family, or the Struthiones proper, are very complicated, but Dinornis, which alone concerns us here, appears to be intermediate between the rheas of South America, and the emus and cassowaries of Australia and the adjacent islands. It approaches the rhea in the structure of its egg-shell and in having only three pairs of sternal ribs, while the emu, the cassowary, and also the kiwi, have four, and the ostrich five pairs. In the structure of its feathers, and in the shape of its pelvis and skull the moa approaches the emu. The Struthious birds exhibit a type of structure intermediate in many respects between the Carinate birds and the extinct Dinosaurians, and this leads naturalists to suppose that they are but the remnant of a race that once spread over the whole earth. About twelve species are known outside New Zealand; while here, besides our four species of Apteryx, Professor Owen has determined fourteen species of Dinornis, three of Aptornis, and one of Cnemiornis, thus making a total of twenty-two species of Struthious birds, belonging to four different genera, living in New Zealand only a few hundred years ago, that is to say, nearly twice as many as are found in all other parts of the world put together.

Probably, however, some of Professor Owen's species of Dinornis are but the young of others, and it seems to me very doubtful whether Aptornis and Cnemiornis should be regarded as Struthious birds at all. It is evident that these two genera are closely related, and if the wing bones placed upon Cnemiornis calcitrans really belong to the legs of the same bird we must suppose that the sternum had a keel sufficiently developed to support muscles of a size proportionate to the wings; for although we can understand how the kakapo (Stringops), belonging to an order of deeply keeled birds, may have lost, by disuse of the pectoral muscles, the keel on its sternum, we cannot possibly explain how a Struthious bird could have had large wing bones developed unless it had also sufficiently powerful muscles to use them. I also observe that Aptornis defossor now wears a skull similar to that of the late Dinornis casuarinus, which skull Mr. W. K. Parker says undoubtedly belonged originally to a Notornis. But omitting these two genera, and making a due allowance for doubtful species of Dinornis, the great number of

species living on so small an island is very remarkable when contrasted with other parts of the world. The continent of Africa, including Arabia, contains but one, or according to some naturalists two, species of ostrich. South America, from Patagonia to Peru, has but three species of rhea, each inhabiting a separate district. Australia possesses two species of emu, one on the eastern and the other on the western side, and one species of cassowary on the northern, while five other species of cassowary inhabit other detached islands, from New Britain and New Guinea to the Molucca Islands. I believe that outside of New Zealand no two species of Struthious bird are found living in the same district, while here we have now four species of kiwi and not long ago had at least half-a-dozen species of moa as well. How can this be accounted for? The solution is readily found by examining the distribution of the cassowaries. Here we have six species inhabiting six isolated localities. If now this region of the earth were to be elevated these six species might mingle, and if it were subsequently to sink again, all six species would undoubtedly be driven to the higher lands, and we should have in this supposed island a representation of New Zealand inhabited by six species of Struthious bird.

In order, therefore, to account for the numerous species of Dinornis we must suppose an ancient continent, inhabited by one or two species, to sink, and the birds to take refuge on the different mountain ranges left as islands above the water. We must suppose that they remained thus isolated from one another for a sufficiently long period to allow of specific changes being brought about; that then, by an elevation of the land they once more mingled together, and that, on subsidence again taking place, New Zealand as the central mountain chain formed a harbour of refuge for them all.

Whether this isolation of species points to some cause as yet unrecognized, by which in the struggle for life no two species of Struthious bird can live in close proximity I will not venture to give an opinion, but it is a fair subject for inquiry, and one on which the careful study of the relative ages of moa bones might throw considerable light, and enable us perhaps to understand the great mortality that must have taken place amongst the moas when confined to these small islands long before man set his foot here.

The distribution, therefore, of the Struthious birds in the Southern Hemisphere points to a large Antarctic Continent stretching from Australia through New Zealand to South America, and perhaps on to South Africa. This continent must have sunk, and Australia, New Zealand, South America and South Africa must have remained isolated from one another long enough to allow of the great differences observable between the birds of each country being brought about. Subsequently New Zealand must have formed part of a smaller continent, not connected either with Australia or South America,

over which the moa roamed. This must have been followed by a long insular period, ending in another continent still disconnected from Australia and South America, which continent again sank and New Zealand assumed somewhat of its present form.

Passing now to the Carinate division of birds the first thing that strikes us is the fragmentary nature of this part of our avi-fauna (if we exclude the Grallæ and Web-footed birds), thus strongly contrasting with the Struthious division.

Of the first six orders we possess, excluding the Chatham and Auckland Islands, forty-five species, thirty of which are endemic. These have been referred to thirty-one genera, ten of which are found nowhere else, and these thirty-one genera belong to twenty families, one of which (Stringopidœ) is peculiar to New Zealand. Two families only, the honey-eaters (Meliphagidœ) and the starlings (Sturnidœ) contain more than two genera. The first shows affinity to Australia, but it must be remarked that out of the four species of this family, belonging to four different genera, one genus only (Zosterops) is found in Australia, and the little bird (the “white-eye”) that belongs to this genus is known to be quite a recent arrival in this country. The Sturnidœ on the other hand show an affinity with Polynesia, for one species only (Calornis metallicus) of this family is found in the north of Australia and New Guinea. It should, however, be noticed that three other species are found in the latter island. In this family also our three species belong to three different genera, two of which (Creadion and Heteralocha) are found nowhere else, while the other (Aplonis) is very characteristic of Polynesia, and Aplonis caledonicus, which is said to have been found in New Zealand, occurs also in Norfolk Island and New Caledonia.

It is remarkable that our two owls should both be peculiar to New Zealand, and that one of them (Sceloglaux albifacies) should belong to a genus not found elsewhere, for the owls are usually widely spread birds, more so indeed than the hawks. It is also worthy of notice that Strix delicatula, which extends its range over most of the Pacific Islands and Australia, should be absent from New Zealand.

Our parrots present several points of interest. The kakapo (Stringops habroptilus) is found nowhere else, the genus Nestor extends only to Norfolk Island, while our paroquets, although belonging to a genus (Platycercus) equally plentiful both in Australia and Polynesia, show a greater affinity to the latter, one species (P. novœ-zealandiœ) ranging not only to Norfolk Island but also to New Caledonia. It is remarkable that we have no representatives of the cockatoos and grass-paroquets so common in Australia and Tasmania, for our own climate is quite suitable for them. The absence of Polynesian forms is not so remarkable as they belong chiefly to more tropical

genera, and the members of the genus Coriphilus are said to live only on bananas.

That we should have two cuckoos which migrate regularly to other countries, each more than a thousand miles distant, is a fact that deserves special attention, for I know of no parallel case in any other part of the world, the distance across the Mediterranean being less than half that travelled over by our summer visitants. The phenomenon of a bird at a certain season of the year flying out to sea to an island more than a thousand miles distant is remarkable enough, but is rendered still more so in the case of the little shining cuckoo (Chrysococcyx lucidus), which is supposed to come from Australia, by there being no apparent necessity for it. For this bird migrates east and west, and not from a warmer to a colder climate, and two other closely allied species which inhabit Australia never leave the country at all. Even in the case of the long-tailed cuckoo (Eudynamis taitiensis) which comes to us from the equable climate of the South Sea Islands, we cannot suppose that its migrations are caused either by alteration of temperature or by want of food, and the question forces itself upon us—How could this habit have arisen? The only reasonable hypothesis is, I think, that at one time the different lands to and from which these birds fly were connected, or nearly so; that the distance between them gradually increased, and that the habit, so common amongst birds, of resorting each year to the same place to breed, was not lost but gradually merged into a regular migration. From this point of view the arrival of the shining cuckoo indicates a connection with Australia or perhaps New Guinea, while that of the long-tailed cuckoo indicates one with Polynesia, and it must be noticed that while the latter bird is identical with specimens from Polynesia, the former shows such differences in the colouring of the tail feathers from the birds inhabiting Australia that it is considered by many naturalists to be a distinct species. Another remarkable fact, that has been quite lately brought to light, is that the shining cuckoo of the Chatham Islands is not the same variety as that visiting New Zealand, but is almost, if not quite, identical with an Australian species (C. plagosus). This curious fact proves how strong must be the force of habit, for these birds in their migration to and from the Chatham Islands must pass over, or at least in sight of New Zealand, but instead of stopping, after a journey of 1,400 miles, they continue on for 450 miles more, until they reach the little island that they have selected as their home.

A more difficult fact to account for is the presence of different species of grass-bird (Sphenœacus) in both Australia and New Zealand, for this bird has such feeble powers of flight that it could not cross a river, and must almost of necessity have travelled by land. It must, however, be noticed that this

genus extends through the Indian Archipelago into India, and I have not been able yet to compare our grass-birds with those of Australia and the Archipelago so that I am not able to say what amount of difference there is between them. The genus Keropia has most affinity with South American birds, while Graucalus melanops, which is closely related to our G. concinnus, is said to extend from Australia into New Guinea.

In the order Grallœ, or Waders, we come to birds more widely spread than any others, some indeed being almost cosmopolitan, but even amongst these the isolated character of our fauna is still marked, for out of twenty-eight species, belonging to seventeen genera, eight species and two genera are found nowhere else. The most noticeable feature in this order is the existence of a curious genus of rails (Ocydromus) quite unable to fly. Of this genus we possess four species, one in the North and three in the South Island, while a fifth species is found in Lord Howe Island, and a sixth in New Caledonia. Notornis, although somewhat like the pukeko (Porphyrio melanotus) in the bill, has the feeble wings, thick legs, and short toes of Tribonyx mortierii of Tasmania and Australia. Of our other rails two (R. pectoralis and O. tabuensis) are spread over Australia and Polynesia, while another (O. affinis) although not found elsewhere is closely related to a species from Australia (O. palustris). In the godwit (Limosa uropygialis) we have another migratory bird that probably comes from Polynesia, but as it is also found in Australia we cannot feel any certainty about it. New Zealand also displays the peculiarity of being the only country in the world inhabited by two species of stilt-plover (Himantopus) one of which (H. novœ-zealandiœ) is found nowhere else. This is probably owing to the length of time that New Zealand has been isolated, and to its having had during the whole of the period a stilt-plover on it, which gradually changed until it attained that remarkable jet black plumage which is so different from any other species, while the later colonist from Australia (H. leucocephalus) displays the colour usual to the genus. This view is rendered the more probable by the fact that the young of the black stilt-plover have the same pied plumage that is exhibited by the adults of those species from one of which I suppose it to have been derived.

In the crook-bill (Anarhynchus frontalis) we have another curious anomaly which as yet has received no explanation; and it must also be noticed that Cape Horn, the Cape of Good Hope, Australia, and New Zealand, each possess a black oyster-catcher (Hœmatopus), which are considered specifically distinct.

Among the herons the only very remarkable fact is the occurrence of the little bittern (Ardea pusilla), a bird found only in Australia and Natal. Our snipe (G. pusilla) very much resembles in plumage G. stricklandi from Tierra del Fuego, but it has a shorter bill.

Among the web-footed birds, the first thing that claims our attention is the oceanic family of the petrels (Procellaridœ), for although by no means peculiar to New Zealand, ^* the great number of species in the southern oceans, in comparison with the small number in the northern, is very noticeable. The northern and tropical species have all closely allied forms in the southern hemisphere, while many of the southern petrels, such as Ossifraga, Halodroma, Majaqueus, Pterodroma, Daption, and Prion have no representatives in the northern seas. This leads to the inference that the northern species have been derived from stray southern birds, and that the southern hemisphere has been the centre from which most oceanic birds have spread, while land birds, on the contrary, have spread chiefly from northern areas, and this leads to the further inference that the southern hemisphere has been for many ages more oceanic in character than the northern. The next most remarkable point is the great development of the cormorants, New Zealand possessing nine species, four of which are found nowhere else. No other country in the world possesses so many, and the phenomenon can only, I think, be accounted for in the same way as the numerous species of moa, that is, by the former existence of several small islands which have since been elevated to form the present New Zealand. The wide dispersion, however, of two of our cormorants is rather against this view, one (G. carunculatus) being found at the Crozet Islands and at Cape Horn, and the other (G. carbo) in Australia, China, and Europe. I must, however, remark that the identity of the first has not yet been perfectly established, and that the second, although very closely resembling specimens from Europe, shows at the same time some difference. It may also be useful to remark here that our gannet (Dysporus serrator), although a far better flying bird than the cormorants, is not found at the Chatham Islands, and Dr. Finsch informs me that it is undoubtedly different from the species (D. capensis) that occurs at the Cape of Good Hope. The occurrence of G. brevirostris and G. melanoleucus in New Zealand presents a parallel case to the two species of stilt-plover, with, however, this difference—that, judging from the colours of the young bird, it is probable that G. melanoleucus has been derived from G. brevirostris, owing to its having been isolated in Australia, and that its descendants have migrated back again to New Zealand.

Of the gulls we possess a species (L. pomare) which is found nowhere else, a peculiarity of which few countries can boast, but which can perhaps be accounted for by the fact that this gull only frequents fresh-water lakes, and seldom comes down to the sea. Our other gulls are widely spread, but it is a most remarkable fact, which at present appears to me to be quite inexplicable, that neither gulls nor cormorants occur in any of the Polynesian Islands.

Of ducks we possess nine species, four, or perhaps five of which are

endemic; one, the blue duck (H. malacorhynchus), belonging to a curious genus found only in New Zealand, but related to a genus (Malacorhynchus) in Australia. The others are all found in Australia, one (P. gibberifrons) ranging through New Caledonia and the Indian Archipelago, and another, the common grey duck (A. superciliosa), spreading over Polynesia, as far north as the Sandwich Islands. The most remarkable circumstance connected with our ducks, is the presence of a species of Fuligula, a genus found neither in Australia nor Africa, but belonging properly to the northern parts of America, Europe, and Asia, although one species is found in South America. The occurrence, however, of a northern species (F. cristata) in the Pelew Islands points out to us perhaps the route along which the ancestors of our species travelled.

The Chatham Islands possess thirty-two species of birds, omitting the gulls, penguins, and petrels, of which six are found nowhere else. All the others are found in New Zealand, except the shining cuckoo (C. plagosus), which, as already stated, migrates to and from Australia. No genera, however, are peculiar to these islands, except perhaps a rail (Rallus? modestus) which is evidently incapable of flight, and which will probably have to be placed in a genus by itself. This curious form must not, however, be regarded as a change produced by long isolation, but rather as an old form preserved from destruction by isolation. The most noticeable circumstance in the Chatham Island fauna is the absence of Raptores, with the exception of an occasional visit from the harrier (Circus gouldi), which does not however appear to inhabit the islands, or at any rate is exceedingly rare there.

The Auckland Islands possess twelve birds, three or four of which are endemic, the remainder all belonging to New Zealand. The most remarkable facts are the occurrence of a species of merganser (Mergus australis), a genus found only in high northern latitudes, and of a duck (Nesonetta aucklandica) with very short wings, belonging to a genus found nowhere else.

On Norfolk Island we know of twenty-six birds. Of these two (Aplonis caledonicus and Platycercus novœ-zealandiœ) are found in New Zealand and New Caledonia; five others are common to New Zealand and Australia; a species of Nestor (N. productus) used to inhabit Philip Island close by, and the remainder show an affinity to Australia.

Lord Howe Island possesses only six land birds, two of which (Charadrius bicinctus and Ocydromus sylvestris) show a connection with New Zealand, while the rest show an affinity to Australia.

A review of the facts disclosed by a study of the distribution of the Carinate birds shows that although the affinity is greater with Australia than with any other place, there is yet a decided leaning towards Polynesia, and when we remember that a large portion of Australia lies in the same latitude

Hutton.-—On the Geographical Relations of the N.Z. Fauna. are also four others that are common to both Australia and South America, five common to Australia and South Africa, two common to Australia and the Pacific Islands, and one common to Australia and the Auckland Islands. Thus the total number of our sea fishes found in Australia is fifty, in South America and the Cape of Good Hope nine each, three (Prosopodasys cottoides, Trygon kuhlii, and Ostracion fornasini) are not found nearer than the Indian Archipelago (the identification, however, of the latter is doubtful), and one (Halargyreus johnsoni) has been obtained at Madeira only. The remaining thirteen are widely ranging species. These 134 species have been distributed among 114 different genera, eleven of which are not found elsewhere. The connection with Australia is here, as might be expected, so well marked that I need not dwell upon it, but will proceed to examine the affinities of New Zealand to other countries. Our former connection with South America is indicated by Mendosoma lineata, Notothenia cornucola, Merluccias gayi, and Genypterus blacodes; with South Africa by Trigla kumu, Gonorhynchus greyi, and Bdellostoma cirrhatum, while the occurrence of Gonorhynchus greyi and Congromuræna habentata at St. Paul's shows that that little volcanic island was also probably connected. The occurrence in New Zealand of species belonging to the southern genera Pseudorhombus, Bovichthys, Agriopus, Chilodactylus and Scorpis points to the extension of a former antarctic continent, of which these islands formed a part, while Acanthurus triostegus, Dascyllus aruanus, Chanos salmoneus, Peltorhamphus novæ-zealandiæ, a species of stingaree allied to Trygon thalassia, and species of the genera Labricthys and Trachelochismus, show an affinity for the islands of the Pacific.

I have already remarked that three of our fishes are not found nearer than the Indian Archipelago, and it is probable that our species of Torpedo and Doryichthys came from that direction also. But a still more curious affinity to Japan is shown by the presence of the genera Lotella and Ditrema, and another little fish (Calloptilum punctatum) which is found at the mouth of the river Thames, and which has its nearest allies in the genus Bregmaceros from China and the Philippine Islands. Gonorhynchus greyi and Clupea sagax are also both found in Japan, but they occur in Australia as well. Our species of Ditrema differs from D. læve of Japan in having teeth on its palate, and a band of teeth in each jaw instead of a single row. Platystethus cultratum, from Norfolk Island, is also closely allied. This connection with China and Japan is, I consider, the chief point of interest in the distribution of our marine fish.

In the genus Trypterygium, which is found only in the Mediterranean, we have an anomaly which is parallel to the cases of Fuligula and Mergus among the birds, and as we proceed we shall find many other similar cases cropping up.

The fresh-water fish naturally supply more important evidence as to the former distribution of land than those inhabiting the sea. Of these, New Zealand possesses fifteen species, belonging to seven genera, of which six species, or 40 per cent., and one genus, are found nowhere else. That the percentage of the endemic fresh-water fish should be nearly the same as that of the marine fish is a remarkable and unexpected result, for the number of species of marine fish inhabiting New Zealand and found also in other countries depends partly on permanency of specific characters since New Zealand was isolated, and partly on the power possessed by fishes of migrating to us from other countries, while among the fresh-water fish the proportion depends entirely on permanency of specific characters; consequently, this permanency of specific characters must be greater in fresh-water than in salt-water fish, and this is the more remarkable as-our fresh-water fish are far more variable, especially Galaxias attenuatus and Eleotris gobioides, than the marine, and Galaxias attenuatus being found both in South America and Tasmania must have had a longer specific existence than any of the others. It is therefore evident that a great amount of variability is not inconsistent with great specific longevity under certain conditions. The conditions in this case are, I believe, the absence of any large rapacious fish preying on the smaller variable ones, and thus tending to fix those varieties which are best adapted to elude the observation of the enemy. These conditions will soon no longer exist in our rivers on account of the introduction of the trout, and I should like to draw attention to the fact that descriptions and figures of all the varieties of fish occurring now in one or more of our rivers would be a most valuable contribution to science as material for future naturalists.

Of our fresh-water fish found beyond New Zealand, Retropinna richardsoni is found in the Chatham Islands; Galaxias fasciatus in both the Chatham and Auckland Islands; Galaxias attenatus in the Chatham Islands, Tasmania, Patagonia, and South America; Galaxias olidus in Australia; Anguilla aucklandii in the Auckland Islands; Anguilla australis in the Auckland Islands, Tasmania and Timor; Anguilla latirostris in the Chatham Islands, Europe, Egypt, China, and the West Indies; Geotria australis in Australia; and Geotria chilensis in Western Australia and-Chile. Thus four of our freshwater fish are found in the Chatham Islands, and three in the Auckland Islands, which are all the fresh-water fish known to inhabit those places; three are found in Australia, two in Tasmania, two in South America, one in the Island of Timor, and one is spread from China to Europe and the West Indies. The Australian grayling also (Prototroctes maræna), although a distinct species, much resembles our own (P. oxyrhynchus); and another closely related genus (Haplochiton) is found in South America.

The genus Eleotris is widely spread in tropical countries. Its head quarters

Myodora ovata in the Philippines and Australia, Mytilus smaragdinus and Anomia cytæum in China; while we also have a small Cypræa which appears to me to differ from C. punetata, from the Philippines, only in the absence of red spots. Bankivia varians is found in South Africa and Tasmania. Our common pipi (Chione stutchburyi) is found in Kerguelen Land, while Ranella vexillum, which is also found in Tasmania, is closely allied to R. argus from the Cape of Good Hope, and to R. proditor from St. Paul Island. The genera Phorus, Rotella, and Calyptræa are found in the Philippine Islands and China, but not in Australia. The genus Lyonsia, of which we possess one species, extends from Europe and India to the Philippine Islands and Borneo, and is also found in Peru and the West Indies. A few of our shells are almost cosmopolitan, as Lucina divaricata, Saxicava arctica, Crypta unguiformis, and Lima squamosa; while Nucula margaritacea inhabits Europe. Dosinia subrosea is said to have been found in the Persian Gulf, and the genus Solemya is found only in Australia and the Mediterranean. While, therefore, our marine shells show a decided affinity to Australia, they also show a slight connection with South Africa, Kerguelen Land, St. Paul's, and South America, and point more decidedly to a connection with the Philippine Islands and China.

Of land and fresh-water shells, including the marine air-breathers, we possess 114 species, of which 97 are not found elsewhere. These show many striking and important facts in distribution. Three only, Helix subrugata, H. sydneyensis, and H. rapida are found in Australia, and of these the second is so like H. cellaria, of Europe, that it has only lately been distinguished from it by Dr. Cox, and is also closely allied to H. glaberrima from the Solomon Islands. Helix rapida is also found at Erromanga, one of the New Hebrides. Helix coniformis^* inhabits the Louisade Islands, H. radiaria the Solomon Islands, and H. vitrea the Admiralty Islands. Cassidula mustelina is found at Singapore and Pulo-penang, and Amphibola avellana in New Caledonia. But the distribution of some of the genera is more important even than that of the species. Nanina spreads from India to China, the Philippines, Indian Archipelago, and Polynesia, and is also found in Madagascar and the Mauritius, but not in Australia. Amphibola extends over Australia and Polynesia to Burmah. Lymnæa extends from Europe to India, China and Java, and is also found in North America but not in Australia. Assiminea is found in England, India, Celebes, Molucca Islands, and the Navigator and Friendly Islands, but not in Australia. The family Ancylinæ, or fresh-water limpets, of which we possess two species, is found