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Volume 34, 1901

Transactions of the New Zealand Institute, 1901.


Art. I.—Presidential Address.

[Read before the Auckland Institute, 3rd June, 1901.]

We this night commence the thirty-fourth session, of our Institute, a fact which carries our existence practically over one-third of a century; and, although it might be excusable to utilise this landmark as a peg on which to hang a retrospect of the past and anticipations more or less prophetic or imaginative in respect to the future, I prefer to touch lightly on this scope, and leave it to the occupier of this chair sixteen years hence, when the jubilee of the Institute will be celebrated in, there is no room for doubt, a manner befitting the occasion, and with the participation of, I hope, all of those whom I now see before me. Nevertheless, I am deeply sensible of the privilege I now enjoy of opening our first session in the new century, and it is pleasing to be able on such an occasion to congratulate the Institute on its solid and prosperous condition. We are able to keep up a steady, if not large, increase in all sections of the Museum, and in the ethnological section especially we may claim to lead the colony. Our roll of membership has taken a turn upwards, with every prospect of a yearly balance on the right side, the result in no small degree of the lectures, scientific and popular, which for many years past have been given, often at no small

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trouble and some expense, by those who have thus evinced in such a practical manner their interest in the work.

When I addressed you on a similar occasion to the present eleven years ago some of the present applications of science were in comparative infancy, and the advance that has been made since then offers a tempting opening to enlarge on what may be achieved in the future. But I have no intention of inflicting on you a tirade in the gushing style of which we have had a good deal of experience since the commencement of the century. Some of the conclusions reached in these predictions might eventuate if the law of gravitation could be repealed. But just as we have experienced the possible, so also we have a clearer conception of what is impossible; just as we have learned the possibilities of electric transmission of heat, light, and force, so have we learned the laws by which these things are governed, and which are as immutable as those pertaining to the older science of hydraulics. When one takes up a specimen of these florid predictions. such as I have now before me in a cutting from an American newspaper, and eliminates therefrom all that is equivalent to perpetual motion—and, singular to say, many things that are already in use; others, again, long known but not in use—it is wonderful how little remains of what is possible and at the same time new.

There are, however, among those who have been forecasting future possibilities the names of some who have scored their mark indelibly in the annals of time. And if, as is asserted, Nikola Tesla predicts that electric messages and power will be sent from England to Australia without wires, we have no scientific warrant for disbelief, although we have not the smallest foundation in our present experience for hoping that such a thing may be possible.

But to enter into a train of speculative thought on these and kindred subjects on this occasion would be somewhat out of place, and I shall therefore endeavour to enlist your attention in matters having a more or less practical bearing and influence on every-day life. This opens out a very extensive field of vision, far too much for either your time or patience, and I will endeavour to exhaust neither.

The advance of engineering during the last fifty years has been suggested as a theme of general interest, and it is to me in many points attractive, for it is just fifty years ago last New Year since I entered to serve my time to the work of my life, a raw youth of eighteen fresh from Ian Maclaren's Scots Grammar School. I will therefore glance at a few of the changes which have taken place in the practice of what has been happily defined as the “art of directing the great sources of power in nature for the use and convenience of man.”

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Sixty years ago the design of bridges adhered, with few exceptions, to the arch or suspension type. But stone or “brick arches were going out, and designs in cast or wrought iron were coming in. The suspension type had been tried for railway-work and found unsuitable without such application of stiffening, as led it practically to partake quite as much of the girder type as of suspension. The disastrous breakdown of the Dee Bridge, near Chester, in which a deep cast-iron girder was reinforced in a rather unscientific manner by malleable-iron ties, led to the abandonment of cast-iron for all but very small spans, and even for such it has long disappeared. With the last of the “forties” came the tubular bridges of Conway and Britannia; but with the succeeding great Victoria Bridge over the St. Lawrence at Montreal this design may be said to have been abandoned. The design is not economical, really very much the reverse, but the mathematical investigations necessary to its evolution bore immediate fruit in the inception and development of the open-girder pattern, which in some of its many modifications has become the standard of all long and short span bridges the design of which is not governed by aesthetic traditions. It will be readily granted that it is the size of the span, and not the mere length of the structure, that stamps the importance of a bridge, and the advance of engineering in this particular in fifty years cannot be more forcibly illustrated than by the comparison put forth by Sir Benjamin Baker—that is to say, the span of the Britannia Bridge, 460ft., is to that of the Forth Bridge, 1,710ft., as a newly born babe is to a lifeguardsman. The bridge now in progress over the St. Lawrence at Quebec is to have a span 90 ft. longer than that of the Forth, and the designs of the proposed great suspension-bridge over the Hudson, between New York and Hoboken, show a span of 2,700 ft., or 60 ft. more than half a mile.

In direct contrast to bridges are tunnels, and in this line an enormous advance has been made, not only in the magnitude of the works, but in the facility and certainty with which operations can be carried out under all circumstances, even to driving under the Thames at Blackwall with only a few feet of mud between the water and the lining of the tunnel Driving railway-tunnels for miles under cities like London or Glasgow is now such an every-day occurrence as to call for no remark. During the last half-century the Mont Cenis Tunnel, seven miles and a third, and that of the St. Gothard, nine miles and a quarter, have been constructed, and at the present time the Simplon is being pierced by twin tunnels of twelve miles and a half in length.

Turning to railways, the principal departure seems to be in the direction of application to steep and mountainous

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countries formerly considered to be inaccessible to the locomotive. It is true that more than sixty years ago a gradient of 1 in 37½ was worked by ordinary locomotives on the Bromsgrove—Lickey Incline, between Birmingham and Oxford, but that was exceptional. Soon, however, in the period under review, it was recognised that railways must be adapted to circumstances, and not limited to conventional gradients or curves. Main lines in North and South America have now many hundreds of miles of gradients of 1 in 25 and 1 in 20. What this means may be imagined when it is considered that it is not far from double the rate of ascent of the heaviest of our New Zealand lines as worked with ordinary locomotives. It is worthy of remark that we have, in some of its phases, a renewal of the “battle of the gauges,” which in the early “forties” was being fought through many parliamentary campaigns. And it is somewhat disquieting to find that there are some among us who, ignoring the lessons of the past, would calmly condemn a future generation to the trouble and expense which, a break of gauge forced on Britain and America, a trouble which will loom more and more into view as a disturbing factor in the railway policy of the Australian Commonwealth. Locomotives have been practically trebled in weight and power during the last fifty years. The express speeds are somewhat, but not very much, higher—that is, on the average. But we are promised within the next two years or so the startling development of railway speed up to 120 miles per hour. Some anticipate much more. This is by the monorail system, which Mr. Behr has pushed into prominence, and which is likely to be exploited on the historic field, in railway history, of Liverpool and Manchester. Such speeds can only be attained by carriages not liable to derailment, and propelled by other than reciprocating machinery. It is possible that, for express passenger traffic and under exceptional conditions, this system may come into use. But I fear that several defects, such as shunting difficulties and others, inherent in its design will prevent its adoption otherwise.

In marine engineering we see a most marvellous advance, and it would take all the time at our disposal this night to follow up, step by step, the steady march in the direction of speed and reduction of fuel per unit of power. The double, treble, and quadruple phases of compound engines, with proportionately high initial steam-pressure and high piston-speed, have worked results which in the early “fifties” would have been declared impossible by nearly all the marine engineers in Great Britain. I say nearly all. I might extend it to all but one. In 1852 John Elder, the descendant of a race of grand old Fifeshire mechanics, and the possessor of all that

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can be conferred by heredity in such a case, entered into business on the Clyde. Although the compound engine had been invented and in mining use in Cornwall at the close of the eighteenth century, it was left for John Elder to see the vast possibilities of the application of the principle to marine work. Previous to his time the steam pressure used in marine boilers was about 7 Ib. per square inch, and the difficulty in introducing the compound design lay principally in the deeply rooted prejudice existing against high pressures at sea. In 1853, however, Messrs. Randolph, Elder, and Co commenced the innovation entailing the most radical departure from former practice. I well remember the opposition set up, alike by owners and the engine-room staff, and I watched with much interest the steady, if not rapid, triumph of high initial pressure and expansion to extreme limits in separate cylinders. John Elder died in 1869, at the early age of forty-three. Had he survived to the present day, what would he have seen as the result of his sound judgment of fifty years ago? He would have seen marine boilers carrying steam at 280Ib. to the inch, and expanding in three or four stages through five cylinders, with piston-speeds of 900ft. per minute. He would have seen the consumption of fuel at sea reduced from more than 6 Ib. per horse-power per hour to less than 1 Ib. And, solely as the outcome of these results, he would have seen the Atlantic Ocean virtually a ferry, crossed by more than half a million of passengers last year, and our own colony, for the Panama service of which he built the “Rakaia,” served with steam-liners not one of which would have been possible under the old system. And, lastly, he would have seen the cargo-steamer “Inchmarlow” carrying 1 ton one sea mile by the combustion of one-third of an ounce of coal, which, taking the price' at 15s. per ton, is equivalent to carrying 1 ton 550 miles for 1d. But the most startling innovation in the marine engine is undoubtedly the steamturbine of the Hon. Mr. Parsons. By this means velocities have been reached of forty-three statute miles per hour, with an utter absence of that vibration which, at high speeds, is at once so distressing and destructive. Whether the steamturbine can be applied to an Atlantic liner remains to be seen. There are several drawbacks inherent to the design, the principal of which is the impossibility of reversing the turbine, so that separate machinery has to be provided for going astern, and which is allowed to run loose when the vessel is going ahead. It is certainly not in its favour that, even in the small vessels in which this turbine has been tried, the power has to be applied through three propeller-shafts, each with three screws, the whole revolving at the enormous velocity of two to three thousand revolutions per minute.

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Full efficiency also can only be obtained when full power is being exerted. At half and quarter speeds the loss of efficiency is very great, and as yet the efficiency is at best very considerably below that of the average ordinary marine engine of the day. But in this turbine the long-sought realisation of a successful rotary engine has been attained.

In electrical engineering we have the third great branch of the profession; and it is one which, in its far-reaching ramifications, already exceeds the most diversified practice of the conventional civil engineer or his brother of the marine. To draw a contrast between electrical engineering fifty years ago and to-day would indeed be comparing small things with great. The electrical engineer as known to us now had no existence in those days. Electricity was employed, we may say, in only two works of commercial importance—those of electroplating and telegraphy. The original patents for both of these applications were overridden by what was called “magnetic plating” and the “magnetic telegraph.” Permanent magnets were used in both cases, and it was not until it was found that electro-magnets could be substituted that the phenomenal advance in the science and practice of electricity took place. To speak in detail of the evolution of the electrical engineer is not my purpose. My endeavour is to interest you, not to weary you if I can avoid it; but I may mention one circumstance which stands out boldly in my memory in the light of present experience. My worthy old friend the rector of the Scots Grammar School aforesaid, in his lectures on electricity, held it to be impossible that the electric light should be commercially successful. His reasoning was based on the difference between the atomic weights of carbon and zinc. At that time this was given as 6 to 32, now more accurately stated as 11.97 to 64.9, but the ratios are very nearly the same. Had the electric light been possible of production only by the primary battery, in which zinc is the fuel, the old gentleman would have been right, for 1 ton of coal, or rather of carbon, would go as far in chemical combination as more than 5 tons of zinc. But the invention of the dynamo gave coal its opportunity; and yet it is at a heavy disadvantage, in so far as it cannot be applied directly in a primary battery like zinc, but must be used through the intervention of the steam or gas engine. Now, the steam-engine is the most wasteful of prime movers, so far as the conversion of the thermodynamic value of fuel into work is concerned. It has an efficiency of only from 10 to 12 per cent., and very seldom reaches 15 per cent., while the efficiency of the primary battery may be averaged at 90 per cent, or more. If, therefore, carbon could be used

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directly in a primary battery as zinc is, a saving of fuel of about. 75 per cent would result. With a prize like this in prospect we cannot wonder that for many years a primary carbon battery has been the dream of electrical inventors. But, although thermo cells of several kinds are known, we are practically no nearer the realisation, and I very much fear that we shall never see the boilers of an Atlantic liner replaced by electric batteries, into which a few stokers working in a cool and pleasant atmosphere will shovel one-seventh of the coal now required by steam. The difficulties attending the practical application of such batteries would be enormous, and may be clearly conceived by supposing zinc to be as plentiful and cheap as coal, and to form the fuel, in fact, as we would like to see carbon. We have only to imagine the number, dimensions, and arrangement of cells, each of a pressure of about one volt, which would have to be grouped and arranged in serried masses to give out from 15,000 to 30,000 horse power. No; I am more than doubtful of the utility, for marine purposes at all events, of the primary carbon battery, even if it does become a fact.

In electric traction the last decade of the century has furnished probably the greatest revolution ever witnessed in the realm of applied science, although so far as Great Britain and the Continent of Europe are concerned it has only just commenced. There are many reasons for this great success, but I have no intention of entering into them in detail at this time. I hope that before our meeting next year on a similar occasion to the present we shall have a practical illustration of electric traction in our midst. The scale on which it is being installed in America is immense. The New York elevated street railway is now being transformed from a locomotive to an electric system, and the traffic with which it has to cope may be imagined when the record of two consecutive days' work is looked at. On these days 1,700,000 passengers were carried. During the heaviest rush of traffic 280 trains, or 1,280 cars, were run per hour, and during twenty-four hours 4,820 trains were despatched on the various sections. The electric power on this system, when the installation at present in progress is complete, is stated to be eight units of 8,000-horse power, or a total of 64,000-horse power. In London the work of transformation of the metropolitan and metropolitan district railways is in progress, and it will be a welcome change from the smoky dungeonlooking holes they are now to the white walls and clear air they will in a short time present to a vastly increased traffic. While on the question of electric traction it may be mentioned that a discussion has arisen in all sincerity respecting the possibility of replacing locomotive traction on railways in

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general by electric power. It is held by some that powerstations located at regular distances along the lines could, by the three-phase system, transmit energy at a more economical rate than is obtained with locomotives. The question is indeed a large one, but is bound to be threshed out to a finality. It is like the question of change of gauge. The enormous sacrifice of plant involved delayed that for many years, but it had to be faced in the end, and so it may in this instance also.

During the last fifty years, but at somewhat long intervals, the subject of wireless telegraphy has come before the public. The first exponent of this, so far as I know, was a native of Forfarshire, Mr. J. Bowman Lindsay. 1 well remember his experiments in transmitting signals across the River Tay, near Perth, during the year I left Home, now just forty-two-years ago. Later Mr. Lindsay essayed to transmit signals between Dundee and the southern shore near Newport. His method was by conduction, making the earth or water, in fact, act as conductors between pairs of earth-plates on either side of the space over which he wished to communicate. The possibilities of wireless telegraphy under this system are extremely limited and of no practical value, and it is not hard to understand why the labours of Lindsay—one of the most earnest and self-sacrificing workers in practical science the country has ever known—were not taken up for actual use.

Towards the end of the century the experiments of the late lamented Hertz demonstrated the existence of a medium which, ever since the days of Newton, was suspected as the agent by which the laws of gravitation and light act in force throughout all space. This medium has usually been designated the “ether,” and now the tendency of thought is towards identifying it with electricity itself. Whether this is so or not, it is certain that, in accordance with the number of billions of vibrations or etheric waves per second, there appear to our senses the component parts of light as separated by a refracting prism. Beyond the range of vibrations which give out the spectrum are the Rontgen or x rays, which have the power of penetrating many otherwise opaque substances, as the solar rays do glass. And, curiously enough, the Hertzian waves are in frequency placed far below those of the dullest red, the lowest of the spectrum, and yet they have the power of vibrating through solids, or what we have hitherto been calling solids. Had Hertz survived he most certainly would have followed up his discoveries to the point of controlling the despatch and receipt of the etheric waves, and by reinforcing them by an ordinary relay effect what is now known as wireless telegraphy. This work has been taken up by Marconi, Dr. Lodge, F.R.S., and others; but to Marconi seems to be

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due the form of coherer which appears to be the most sensitive and practical method of catching vibrations in the ether set in motion by powerful sparks discharged it may be a hundred miles distant.

The question now arises, To what extent, from a commercial point of view, is wireless telegraphy likely to come into use? Gushing writers, in crowding together the coming achievements of the century, take for granted that all wires, alike for telegraph and telephone, will be abolished. Granted that perfection is reached in practice, and that it is possible to dispense with telephone-wires between any two instruments, it will be readily admitted that a system by which a receiver could respond to and translate into speech all or any of the etheric vibrations set up by thousands of instruments would be of no value, to say the least of it. Hence Marconi endeavoured to devise means by which the vibrations could be reflected, or, at all events, very much strengthened, in a given direction. But it is hard to conceive Hertzian waves, which are supposed to be able to pass through stone walls, being reflected by anything. This reflection idea therefore, has not been much in evidence of late. But it is asserted that a receiver may be tuned so as to syntonize with a particular transmitter, and that signals would be intelligible only between these two. Granted again, what follows in practice? Each subscriber must be supplied with instruments tuned to those of every other member of the Exchange. This, of course, is unthinkable, and therefore for telephony wires cannot be superseded. For telegraphy it might be possible to use a cryptograph, by which messages might be deciphered only by those holding the key. It may be objected that all ciphers are solvable by scientific methods, but there is one very simple instrument, known as the Wheat stone Cryptograph, which is absolutely unsolvable without the key, and that key may be varied through millions of commutations.

It is thus more than doubtful if wireless telegraphy may become commercially useful. But there is a large and very important field of usefulness otherwise open. At sea especially, both in peace and war, it must become of immense importance. We all remember the long search that took place some time ago after two disabled steamers. Had they, and also those engaged in the search, been supplied with Marconi's instruments, the work world have extended to days instead of weeks or months, and been one of system instead of chance. So, also, for enabling an admiral to communicate with his fleet during foggy weather, or with detached ships or squadrons, and for lighthouses and lightships communicating with shore stations, the invention appears to be perfect. It

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is stated that, owing to some atmospheric conditions, this system has not been a conspicuous success in South Africa. If so, it would seem that there is some subtle connection between the ether and the atmosphere that is rather disturbing to the ideas we have been forming on the subject. But wireless telegraphy as yet is only effected by bold and explosive discharges which generate the waves, and who can say that the new century may not see the same effect produced by vibrations as mild as those set up between the transmitter and receiver of an ordinary telephone circuit? Those vibrations represent an electric current so feeble that no known galvanometer can even detect their presence, and yet they effect the most delicate reproductions of the human voice. Nothing is known of the still more feeble currents circulating in the human brain; but that in the cells of that organism currents are transmitted through the nerves, and having performed the behests of the will are returned, much in the same manner as in ordinary electrical work, can hardly be doubted. And, further, it only requires the supposition that among the millions of human-brain batteries two may be now and then found so accurately syntonized as to respond without the conducting nerves being physically joined, and that Hertzian waves may in this manner be the foundation of thought-reading, of the possibility of which many very startling demonstrations have been given. It is also possible that by much training and practice certain individuals may acquire the power of syntonizing the transmitting cells of their brains with the receptive cells of others, who may be already nearly in syntony with them, and thus the phenomena of hypnotism may yet be elucidated.

I have, I fear, allowed this rather jerky and disjointed disquisition, if I may presume to use the term, to extend to undue length, and I will endeavour to utilise the remaining time at my disposal by touching on one or two subjects having general interest, and which are calculated to affect the well being of our colony. Foremost among these stands technical education. I observe with pleasure that this subject has been engaging the attention of the Chief Justice, Sir Robert Stout, and, after his master-mind and perspicuity of diction, I might well let the matter rest. But if only to add my testimony to the truth of his line of argument, and recall a few illustrations within my experience, I have the temerity to follow on. The first thing that strikes me is what is commonly understood by the term “technical education.” We have had a technical school in our midst for some years, and towards gaining an insight as to what the term is understood locally to mean I very gladly availed myself of an opportunity of visiting it and seeing for myself. Well, I saw a school in which

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various handicrafts were practised and taught, together with the elements of machine-drawing. The workmanship was in most cases very good, in some cases perfect. A great deal of attention was devoted to carving in wood, and many very creditable productions were to be seen finished or in progress. The whole reflected much credit on the promoters of the institution so far as the scope of teaching went. But that does not represent what technical education in its true sense means, which, as it happens, has been defined by Act of Parliament. I have had many opportunities of observation, and have come to two conclusions bearing on technical teaching. The first is: A youth cannot be taught a given trade at any such school in a manner to enable him to take his place among those who have served a regular apprenticeship to that trade. Nothing can take the place of, or effect the same results as, an apprenticeship, regular or not, but in any case comprising, say, four or five years of actual work and earnest application. of course, there are exceptions, as now and then there may arise a Nasmyth, who was self-taught and served no apprenticeship and yet was perfect in his workmanship. The second point I note is that, of all things a youth can try, the use of his hands in mechanical handicraft is the easiest to acquire, notwithstanding the length of time it takes to perfect his workmanship. This must be understood as in comparison with anything requiring the use of his brains. I cannot too strongly emphasize the difference that exists between a mechanic and a mechanical workman. Hugh Miller's friend, David Fraser, who was so expert a stone-cutter that he could easily do, and regularly did, as much work as three ordinary men, was a mechanical workman of the first order, but nothing more—a human machine, in fact. On the other hand, the late Lord Armstrong, who began life as a solicitor, was no workman, and never even acquired the art of the draughtsman, but he was by nature a mechanic, and became one of the foremost mechanicians of the age.

There are, of course, some handicrafts ever so much more difficult to acquire than others; but I am safe in estimating, as the result of a lengthened and close observation of a good few representative trades, that not more than one in five hundred of good workmen gets further than that stage by the exercise of mental capacity. I have, to be on the safe side, taken the above proportion; but I fear that were a close investigation possible the result would be much more unfavourable. This is under the system of no higher education than that to be obtained at the bench; and the work of joinery plumbing, &c., which I saw at the technical school goes very little further. I need not say that such is not the system of technical training which has worked so great a change in

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Germany and elsewhere. There the great aim is to prepare the intellect to receive and master the scientific basis of all construction or other process of manufacture. Under such a course a very large proportion of the students, who depend on the workshops for their skill and expertness with their hands, rapidly learn to become more than mere human automata. I know that I am treading on much-debated ground, but I feel sure that a little observation of the results of this dual training will support my conclusions, which are in accordance with those of the Chief Justice and a host of eminent men who are devoting much time to the study of ways and means towards the elevation of the masses.

The late Sir Joseph Whitworth left a very large endowment for the establishment of technical scholarships. The conditions of entry therein were very clearly outlined by him and formulated by the trustees, and are in principle very simple. An intending student who has acquired an elementary knowledge of any of the sciences—say, of chemistry, geometry, or other branches of mathematics—may be a workman in any of the trades allied to engineering; or he may be a scientific or mathematical student who has acquired a certain well-defined but not severe degree of expertness in the use of hand-tools. I am speaking from memory of the first regulations for the scholarships. There may be alterations in some respects since, but in any case the degree of Wh.Sc carries great weight in the scientific and technical world. I have mentioned this foundation particularly because it was the creation of one of the small minority I speak of—one who, not content with being unsurpassed as a workman, used his great abilities towards the perfection of tool and machine design and manufacture, having a clear intuition of the possibilities of the advancement of the British workman with the necessary educational facilities at his command. But in addition to the Whitworth endowment and schools—such as the Owens College, at Manchester—there is in Great Britain the Department of Science and Art, under the Board of Education, with a disbursement of nearly £600,000 per annum. The scope of this department is very large, and embraces schools of science and art, museums, training and technical schools scattered throughout the three kingdoms, with examining functions in thousands of provincial and colonial places, including New Zealand.

I have alluded to the parliamentary definition of technical education. It is defined by “The Technical Instruction Act, 1889,” to mean the principles of science and art applicable to industries; the application of special branches of science to specific industries; and a further and rather elastic definition embracing any other forms of instruction, including modern

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languages, commercial and agricultural subjects, which may in the opinion of the local authority be required by local circumstances. During about ten years County Councils and other local authorities have administered this Act. A special tax on beer and spirits provides the funds, supplemented in some cases by local grants. In this way two years ago very nearly a million pounds was disbursed. It will be admitted that this is not a large expenditure in a population of forty millions—about 6d. per head, in fact. Probably the whole of the technical education in the United Kingdom does not exceed 1s. per annum per head of population. It must be admitted that this is not likely to effect the desired end if we are to keep—or shall we say regain—our commercial and manufacturing supremacy.

Great and manifold, from a social and literary point of view, are the advantages of a classical education, but by itself it is not on the lines required for the subject in hand. There is an amusing preface by an engineer, the author of a work on bridges which has become a standard. He details his classical education, and the time, trouble, and expense he spent in acquiring a proficiency in the Latin language. And in all his after-experience in his profession he pathetically relates that he found not one instance in which his accomplishment served him for good. But that it should not be always so he entitled his book “De Pontibus,” and proudly points to this as one instance in which he has been able to air his Latin in his profession.

I came across some time ago a simile intended to indicate a degree of condescending patronage, a certain supercilious bearing not unwilingled with a shade of contempt. It was likened to the bearing of an Oxford don towards an engineering professor in a northern university. This sort of thing, no doubt, has some foundation in fact, and has to be reckoned with. It is hard to get out of a deeply scored groove in conventionalism. I recall an incident in my own experience. I was at one time in the course of my public duties much interested in the subjects prescribed for the Senior Civil Service examinations, in so far as they concerned the admission of cadets into the Public Works Department. I found that Latin was compulsory, while trigonometry or statics was not. Now, Latin was of no manner of use in the Public Works Department, while trigonometry was indispensable. In response to a vigorous protest on my part the subjects were altered to this extent: It was made optional for a candidate to substitute trigonometry for Latin. This practically met the case in point, but it would still allow of a young man permeated with classical lore, but with only the most hazy idea of trigonometry or mechanics, entering a profession where it

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is essential that a knowledge of these things should be like a second nature.

Another conventionalism to be reckoned with is the depreciation implied in the comparison of theory and practice. An ounce of practice is said to be equal to a ton, I think it is, of theory. If there is any foundation for this at all it must be infinitesimal. Theory which is held so cheap cannot be theory in fact. By theory I mean scientific deduction, and not hypothesis merely. The three angles of any triangle are in theory equal to 180°, but if in actual measurement they amount to more or less, then practice is wrong. If, however, it is held to be theoretically possible that the angles may be so carefully measured with an instrument so absolutely perfect that they may sum up exactly to the known figure, then practice will show that this theoretical supposition is wrong, and that only by accident can such absolute perfection be attained. An incident in point came under my observation in the Old Country very many years ago. One of the best workmen I ever knew—a foreman fitter—was marking off on a circle the centres of six bolt-holes. As usually happens, the dividers, opened to the radius of the circle, did not, on stepping round, exactly close on the commencing-point. My friend remarked that it never did—that the radius of a circle did not divide the circumference exactly into six, but only very near it. of course, I said that it was a geometrical fact that such a division was exact, but was met with the remark that it might be so in theory, but practice showed the contrary.

A good many years ago the Messrs. Denny, of Dumbarton, recognised that among the thousands of their workmen there ought to be much latent talent for the invention of improvement in tools and methods of application, only requiring some incentive to bring it into action. The firm accordingly instituted a scheme by which rewards were to be given in proportion to merit for any improvement by which time could be saved or better work performed than was possible with previous appliances. This scheme has proved very successful, and for many years numbers of important improvements of all kinds, large and small, were the result of an incentive to the use of their heads as well as their hands by men who had nothing to learn in mere workmanship.

Among those misguided searchers after perpetual motion, of which we have evidence even to this day, there is not one true mechanic. Either they are workmen more or less expert or mere mathematicians, in neither case with any knowledge of or capacity to acquire true mechanics. I have met several of both classes, and found in all cases their craze incurable. I noticed very lately that a gentle-

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man informs the Winton Record that after forty years' experimenting he has succeeded in attaining perpetual motion, and protected the invention over the world. It is hard to conceive what sort of intellect could labour for forty years at a mechanical impossibility without discovering it to be so.

But even the primary-school master must be abroad now and then, and I am tempted to give one or two instances of a rather comical nature. I dare say many here present have observed that the terms “square feet” and “feet square” are often used indiscriminately, evidently under the impression that they are synonymous. In a description which appeared lately in a local newspaper of the Duke of Cornwall's apartments on board the “Ophir” the drawing-room was stated to be 1,200ft. square! Even in these days of big ships this is rather startling, for it means that that room has an area of more than 33 acres; 1,200 square feet, which, of course, was meant, would still indicate a good-sized room at sea, and might mean 40ft. by 30ft. Another local paper told us that it is interesting to know that the late Queen's walking-stick was one that had belonged to her “ancestor,” King Charles II.

I have taken up more space than I intended when I touched on technical education, but I cannot conclude without mentioning, if I do little more, two or three subjects of economic importance to our community. The first is the drainage of towns and cities, which has always been a subject of first importance; but the recent plague scare brought it more to the front, and showed us unmistakably what a genuine visitation may mean. It is possible that very few could be found who would own to a belief that plague ever entered Auckland, and it is certain that not one would care to deny the importance of being prepared for combat with the pestilence. What such a visitation would mean to Auckland some may know, but not many actually realise. But with our commerce destroyed, and the influx of all visitors—and their money—stopped, together with the stampede of that large section of our residents who are here for the sake of health, all would soon become alive to the reality. And is anything being done to meet such a contingency? Practically nothing, so far as the first requirement—complete and thorough drainage—is concerned. Without that no amount of cleaning of back yards and slums will be of any use. Such measures without perfect drainage only serve to distribute filth over a wider area than it before occupied.

But measures that are sufficient in one town may not be applicable to another. Sydney carries the sewage out to the rock-bound coast of the Tasman Sea. London, after allowing the sewage to settle in tanks, runs the effluent, more or less

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clear, into the Thames, and employs a fleet of steamers to carry the sludge practically out to sea. In both cases nature is left to finish the work. It is an axiom in engineering, as it should be in every calling, not to fly in the face of the working of nature, but to assist nature and nature will assist you. So, as there are means provided by which the refuse of the world is turned to good account, we have only to make use of them and the mysterious operations of nature will do the work. The septic treatment of sewage therefore seems to offer to us more prospect of dealing with the drainage of towns which have not the advantage of being able to discharge it into the open sea. Much has been already achieved in this direction, but much remains to be added by experience. Nevertheless, I anticipate that within a very few years the treatment of sewage will be as certain and successful as that of any other process or manufacture.

The utilisation of natural sources of power must always be of importance, and the question seems to be now occupying a good share of attention. Water-power from rivers is usually the first in such schemes, and, in conjunction with longdistance transmission of energy by electrical means, offers a good field; but the scope and results are more restricted than are usually believed. It is very seldom that river rapids or falls can be harnessed into work except at a very large cost, and even where in more favourable cases power can be got in hand cheaply the distance over which it must be conveyed rapidly absorbs the efficiency, and it is wonderful how soon the economy of water-power is overtaken and surpassed by steam-power with all its low efficiency.

The harnessing of the tides is another scheme oftener talked about than practised. There is probably no power in nature at once so vast, so visible, and so difficult to utilise as that of the tides. There are exceptional cases where tidal power has been economically used, but as yet they are very few. It seems to me, however, that much more might be done in this direction, and that there are places where a very considerable amount of energy might be made available by a judicious arrangement of floating wheels, dynamos, and secondary batteries, all under automatic control. The harnessing of wave-power on the sea-coast has been less often proposed, and, with the exception of bell-buoys, still more seldom put in practice. It may be found, however, that there are by this means greater facilities for gathering up and storing energy than by the tides. There appear to be situations peculiarly adapted for such an installation, such as at some breakwaters which have been designed by flying a good deal in the face of nature. At these places I believe the wavepower might be so used that it would effectually keep down

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the accumulation of shingle by conveying it beyond the harbour and leaving it free to resume its travel along the coast.

I think it unquestionable that before very long a large amount of power will be generated at our coalfields by the use of slack coal, nearly all of which goes now to waste. Either by the use of steam, or by producer gas, electrical energy could be generated and sent with economy certainly to a distance of about a hundred miles.

Our thermal springs form, I believe, an asset in the capital account of the Auckland Provincial District the value of which it is difficult to estimate, and I am sure this is even now not sufficiently recognised. Looked at from the lowest point of view, the amount of hard cash brought into the country year by year by foreign tourists must amount to a very large sum, so large that it would take an immense area of the finest agricultural lands to produce profits equal to it. I speak in general terms, because I have no data on which to found estimates of tourist expenditure. But, taken on a social and humane basis, the value of the several thermal centres, although more generally recognised, can never be stated in money. It is very satisfactory to observe that the Government seems at last to be fully alive to the importance of fostering the traffic; but very much yet remains to be done in this direction. One essential line of action has never been attempted—I allude to the compilation of an authoritative list of all that can be procured of the very remarkable cures effected during, say, the last twenty years. There is yet time for this; and, now that the tourist traffic has become a branch of a special department of administration, we may hope that it will not be lost sight of. It is now over twenty-three years since I first knew Rotorua, and ever since I have had exceptional opportunities of observation, and have known of many cures of a most startling character. Many of these, no doubt, are on record at the Sanatorium, but numbers of others—indeed, the great majority—were never treated there. The principal cases are, no doubt, well remembered by residents and business people, and a systematic inquiry might easily furnish authentic material, which, compiled and issued under official authority, would carry weight wherever published, which should be the world over.

I have thus endeavoured to enlist your interest in a few subjects of economic importance, and if I have been successful in respect to even one of them in any degree I shall feel more than repaid for the effort.

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Art. II.—On the Senses of Insects.

[Presidential Address to the Wellington Philosophical Society, delivered 25th June, 1901.]

The few remarks I propose to offer to-night contain but little original matter, and probably many members will find that they are quite familiar with most of the facts about to be related. My primary object in recounting these observations is, however, to show the large amount of valuable work which may be done by any one who is endowed with a fair amount of leisure, and has a taste for observing natural-history objects. Unlike other branches of entomological field-work, the study of the senses and intelligence of insects can be pursued without the observer leaving his own home, and this, no doubt, will be a recommendation to many whose health, and other considerations perhaps, do not permit of prolonged visits into the wilds of New Zealand.

Observations on senses and habits, &c., do not require that minute and technical knowledge of species and genera the acquisition of which is often regarded as dry and laborious. A few of the commonest and most easily recognised insects will suffice for this class of work, and it is only necessary for the student to know the names of these in order that he may place his observations on record.

I should state that most of the observations here given are taken from the works of Sir John Lubbock (now Lord Avebury), who has done so much to encourage the investigation of living insects, and has so clearly shown that the systematic collection and classification of dead insects is not the whole science of entomology, as some entomologists appear to imagine.

Regarding the senses of insects, there seems to be little doubt that they have in some degree all the senses possessed by man; but in certain cases these senses are considerably modified. There are also some reasons for supposing that insects may be endowed with other senses which we do not possess, and of which we can consequently have no conception The most primitive of the senses, that of touch, is undoubtedly possessed by insects in a very marked degree. It was formerly supposed to reside chiefly in the antennæ and in the palpi, but more modern investigations tend to show that the sense of touch in insects is chiefly situated in certain special hairs which occur on various parts of the body and appendages. The bases of these hairs penetrate the horny integument of

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the insect, and are connected with special nerve-fibres. They are much more numerous on some points of the creature than on others. They occur in very large numbers, for instance, on the proboscis of the common house-fly. The skin of insects is so much harder and more insensible to outside impressions than the covering of most other animals that special tactile organs are necessary, and it appears that these hairs perform the needed function.

The possession of the sense of taste in insects cannot be questioned. No one who has ever watched a bee or a wasp can entertain the slightest doubt on the subject. It is, again, probably by taste that caterpillars recognise their food-plant. Moreover, this is partly the effect of individual experience, for when first hatched caterpillars will often eat leaves which they would not fouch when they are older and have become accustomed to a particular kind of food. Special experiments have, moreover, been made by various entomologists, particularly by Forel and Will. Forel mixed morphine and strychnine with some honey which he offered to his ants. Their antennæ gave them no warning. The smell of the honey attracted them and they began to feed; but the moment the honey touched their lips they perceived the fraud. Will tried wasps with alum, placing it where they had been accustomed to be fed with sugar. They fell into the trap and ate some, but soon found out their error, and began assiduously rubbing. their mouth-parts to take away the taste.

Will found that glycerine, even if mixed with a large proportion of honey, was avoided, and to quinine they had a great objection. If the distasteful substance is inodorous and mixed in honey the ant or bee commences to feed unsuspiciously, and finds out the trick played on her more or less quickly according to the proportion of the substance and the bitterness or strength of its taste. The delicacy of taste is doubtless greater in bees and ants than in omnivorous flies or in carnivorous insects. At the same time the sense of taste in ants is far from perfect, and they cannot always distinguish injurious substances. Forel found that if he mixed phosphorus in their honey they swallowed it unsuspectingly and were made very unwell. It cannot, then, be doubted that insects possess a sense of taste. The seat of it can hardly be elsewhere than in the mouth or its immediate neighbourhood; and in all the orders of insects there are found on the tongue, the maxillæ, and in the mouth certain minute pits, which are probably the organs of taste. In each pit is a minute hair, or rod, which is probably perforated at the end.

Passing to the sense of smell, we find that there are good reasons for supposing that most insects are well endowed in this respect. The seat of the sense is supposed to be situated

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in a number of minute cylinders and pits which are placed on the antennæ and on the palpi. The evidence obtained from experiments is somewhat conflicting as between the antennæ and the palpi; but, if the sense of smell is supposed to reside partly in each of these appendages, the results of the various observations are brought into accord. In connection with this subject the following observation, which I made on the 4th September, 1882, on a specimen of one of our common butterflies (Vanessa gonerilla), may be of some interest: At 9 a.m. I placed some moistened sugar in a small china colour-pan about¼ in. square. The butterfly was rather torpid owing to the low temperature, and I therefore removed it from the cage and placed it on the edge of the vessel containing the sugar. Almost at once it began to uncoil its proboscis, and whilst doing so it steadily elevated and depressed its antennæ, the tips of which frequently touched the sides of the vessel. Sometimes each antenna was elevated and depressed singly; at other times both organs were moved together. These remarkable movements of the antennæ were, I think, merely indicative of the insect's pleasure, and this explanation is supported by the observations of Sir John Lubbock respecting the movements of the antennæ in ants. When the butterfly bad completely uncoiled its proboscis it felt all round the vessel with the sensitive extremity of that organ, which certainly appeared to be endowed with the sense of smell. Soon it found the liquid sugar, which it eagerly sucked for about three minutes; and during the whole of this time the butterfly continued to move the antennæ in the manner above described. As soon as the insect ceased feeding, however, the antennæ were restored to their normal position—i.e., almost perpendicular to the main axis of the insect's body. After this I made several very sharp noises—whistling, and ringing on a tumbler—but the butterfly did not appear to hear them, and the antennæ were held perfectly motionless throughout. This experiment appears to indicate, I think, that in butterflies the sense of smell is situated in or near the extremity of the proboscis, and that the sense of hearing is absent or but little developed. I have often tried to frighten butterflies in the field by shouting at them, but have never succeeded in making one of these insects rise from its perch in this way, although the slightest movement on the part of the observer would at once have caused the insect to take flight.

The following are some of the experiments related by Lord Avebury in connection with testing the organs of smelling in insects. He says, “I myself took a large ant (Formica ligniperda) and tethered her on a board by a thread. When she was quite quiet I tried her with tuning-

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forks, but they did not disturb her in the least. I then approached the feather of a pen very quietly so as almost to touch first one and then the other of the antennæ of, which, however, did not move. I then dipped the pen in essence of musk and did the same; the antenna was slowly retracted and drawn quite back. I then repeated the same with the other antenna. I was, of course, careful not to touch the antennæ. I have repeated this experiment with other substances with several ants, and with the same results. Perris also made the same experiments with the palpi, and with the same result; but if the palpi were removed the rest of the mouth gave no indications of perceiving odours.”

Graber also made a number of experiments, and found that in some cases (though by no means in all) insects which had been deprived of their antennæ still appeared to possess the sense of smell. But if, as we have, I think, good reason to suppose, the power of smell resides partly in the palpi, this would naturally be the case. He also tested a beetle (Silpha thoracica) with oil of rosemary and assafætida. It showed its perception by a movement in half a second to a second in the case of the oil of rosemary, and rather longer—one second to two seconds - in the case of the assafœtida. He then deprived it of its antennæ, after which it showed its perception of the oil of rosemary in three seconds, on an average of eleven trials; while in no case did it show any indication of perceiving the assafœtida, even in sixty seconds.

This would seem to indicate a further complication—not only that both the antennæ and the palpi may possess the sense of smell, but also that certain odours may be perceived by the former, and others by the latter. As regards flies (Musca), Forel removed the wings from some bluebottle flies and placed them near a decaying mole. They immediately walked to it, and began licking it and laying eggs. He then took them away and removed the antennæ, after which, even when placed close to the mole, they did not appear to perceive it.

Plateau also put some food of which cockroaches are fond on a table, and surrounded it with a low circular wall of cardboard. He then put some cockroaches on the table. They evidently scented the food, and made straight for it. He then removed their antennæ, after which as long as they could not see the food they failed to find it, even though they wandered about quite close to it.

On the whole, then, the experiments which have been made seem clearly to prove that in insects the sense of smell resides partly in the antennæ and partly in the palpi. This distribution would be manifestly advantageous. The palpi are more suited for the examination of food, while the an-

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tennæ are more conveniently situated for the perception of more distant objects. The remarkable power possessed by the males of many species of moths which enables them to discover anewly emerged female of the same species, even when enclosed in a box situated perhaps a considerable distance from the insect's natural haunts, is well known to collectors; and its truth is sufficiently proved by the very much higher prices charged by dealers in entomological specimens for the female specimens of all such species. This faculty of finding the female at a distance is in all probability resident in the antennæ of the male, which are always very amply pectinated in all those species possessing abilities of the kind. It is not, however, by any means certain that the sense involved is that of scent only. In the mosquitoes, at any rate, it has been practically proved that the ability to discover the location of the female is due to a sense nearly akin to that of hearing, and that this sense is situated in the extensive pectinations of the antennæ possessed by the male of that insect.

In connection with this subject the following ingenious experiment made by Mayer is of interest: He fastened a male mosquito down on a glass slide, and then sounded a series of tuning-forks. With an Ut4 fork of 512 vibrations per second he found that some of the hairs were thrown into vigorous movement, while others remained nearly stationary. The lower (Ut3) and higher (Ut5) harmonics of Ut4 also caused more vibration than any intermediate notes. These hairs, then, are specially tuned so as to respond to vibrations numbering 512 per second. Other hairs vibrated to other notes, extending through the middle and next higher octave of the piano. Mayer then made large wooden models of these hairs, and, on counting the number of vibrations they made when they were clamped at one end and then drawn on one side, he found that it “coincided with the ratio existing between the numbers of vibrations of the forks to which co-vibrated the fibrils.” It is interesting that the hum of the female gnat corresponds nearly to this note, and would consequently set the hairs in vibration. Moreover, those auditory hairs are most affected which are at right angles to the direction from which the sound comes. Hence, from the position of the antennæ and the hairs, a sound will act most intensely if it is directly in front of the head. Suppose, then, a male gnat hears the hum of a female at some little distance. Perhaps the sound affects one antenna more than the other. He turns his head until the two antennæ are equally affected, and is thus able to direct his flight straight towards the female.

The auditory organs of insects, then, are situated, in different insects, in different parts of the body; and there is

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strong reason to believe that, even in the same animal, this is not necessarily confined to one sensitiveness to sounds is not necessarily confined to one part.

From the above it will be seen that there are good reasons for supposing that the organs of hearing are situated in the antennæ of insects, and there is much to support this view, though modern investigation has revealed the existence of well-developed organs of hearing on other parts of the body. Before relating a few of the experiments which have been made in connection with the power of hearing in insects it will, perhaps, be well to very briefly describe the curious ears which have been discovered on the tibiæ of the anterior legs in many grasshoppers, and which are very well developed and easily seen in the specimens of one of our native wetas, which I have pleasure in exhibiting this evening. The researches of Muller, Siebold, Leydig, Hensen, Graber, and Schmidt conclusively prove that these drum-like organs are veritable ears. In grasshoppers and crickets the auditory organ lies in the tibia of the anterior leg, on both sides of which there is a disc generally more or less oval in form, and differing from the rest of the surface in consisting of a thin, tense, shining membrane, surrounded wholly or partially by a sort of hame or ridge.

If now we examine the interior of the leg, the trachea, or air-tube, will be found to be remarkably modified. Upon entering the tibia it immediately enlarges and divides into two branches, which reunite lower down. To supply air to this wide trachea the corresponding spiracle, or breathinghole, is considerably enlarged, while in the dumb species it is only of the usual size. The enlarged trachea occupies a considerable part of the tibia, and its wall is closely applied to the tympanum, which thus has air on both sides of it, the open air on the outer the air of the trachea on its inner surface. In fact, the trachea acts like the Eustachian tube in our own ear: it maintains an equilibrium of pressure on each side of the tympanum, and enables it freely to transmit the atmospheric vibrations.

On the 17th January, 1890, I made the following experiment on a female specimen of weta (Deinacrida megacephala), an insect possessing well-developed ears on the tibiæ of its anterior legs. 11.20 a.m.: I placed the insect on a board suspended from the ceiling, where no vibrations except those of sound could reach it. First I tried a piano, but insect did not appear to hear either treble or bass notes. Then tried beating a kerosene-tin with an iron rod, but apparently insect could not hear noise except when the sounds were very rapidly made and of loud pitch. At this stage the insect seemed to wake up and put out its antennæ and palpi.

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When I ceased making the noises the insect again reposed, but on my resuming it jumped off the board and ran away. The creature appeared alarmed at the sounds. The palpi were spread out whilst it was listening, and the antennæ moved up and down. 11.40 a.m.: Placed insect in a cage also suspended, and allowed her to settle down. Repeated the loud jarring sounds. The insect started, and then squeezed itself into a corner of the cage as though in great fear. After this it took no further notice although sounds were continued for about half a minute. Five minutes later I repeated the sounds, but no notice was taken of them, and I think that the insect was asleep, as in the first instance. 11.50: Again repeated sounds, very loudly this time. The insect trembled and moved its antennæ, but five flies perched on the string supporting the cage took no notice. The female D. megacephala appears to only regard the very discordant sounds made with the kerosene-tin and poker. It does not appear to hear the piano at all. 12 noon: Repeated, with same result; insect started, put out palpi, and moved antennæ. Feel sure that when she does not hear she is asleep.

The following experiments are related by Lord Avebury: “Kirby states that ‘once a little moth was reposing upon my window. I made a quiet, not loud but distinct, noise. The antenna nearest to me immediately moved towards me. I repeated the noise at least a dozen times, and it was followed every time by the same motion of that organ, till at length the insect, being alarmed, became more agitated and violent in its motions.’ And again, ‘I was once observing the motions of an Apion (a small weevil) under a pocket microscope. On seeing me it receded. Upon my making a slight but distinct noise its antennæ started. I repeated the noise several times, and invariably with the same effect.’”

Will has made some interesting observations on some of the Longicorn beetles which appear to confirm the view that the antennæ are the organs of hearing. These insects produce a low shrill sound by rubbing together the prothorax and the mesothorax. The posterior edge of the prothorax bears a toothed ridge and the anterior end of the mesothorax a roughened surface, and when these are rubbed together a sound is produced something like that made by rubbing a quill on a fine file. Will took a pair of Cerambyx (beetles), and put the female in a box and the male on a table at a distance of about 4 in. They were at first a little restless, but are naturally calm insects, and soon became quiet, resting as usual with the antennæ half extended. The male evidently was not conscious of the presence of the female. Will then touched the female with a long needle and she began to

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stridulate. At the first sound the male became restless, extended his antennæ, moving them round and round as if to determine from which direction the sound came, and then marched straight towards the female. Will repeated this experiment many times, and with different individuals, but always with the same result. As the male took no notice of the female until she began to stridulate, it is evident that he was not guided by smell. From the manner in which this Cerambyx was obviously made aware of the presence of the female by the sound, Will considered it clearly proved that in this case he was guided by the sense of hearing. Will has also repeated with these insects the experiments Lord Avebury made with ants, bees, and wasps, and found that they took no notice whatever of ordinary noises; but when he imitated their own sounds with a quill and a fine file their attention was excited—they extended their antennæ as before, but evidently perceived the difference, for they appeared alarmed, and endeavoured to escape.

Hicks, in 1859, justly observed that “whoever has observed a tranquilly proceeding Capricorn beetle which is suddenly surprised by a loud sound will have seen how immovably outward it spreads its antennæ, and holds them porrect, as it were, with great attention as long as it listens, and how carefully the insect proceeds in its course when it conceives that no danger threatens it from the unusual noise.”

Passing now to the organs of vision in insects, we find no difficulty in exactly locating their position. The eyes of these animals, as is well known, are of two distinct kinds—Firstly, the compound eyes, which are made up of an immense assemblage of minute hexagonal eyes usually collected into two large hemispheres situated on each side of the insect's head; secondly, simple eyes, or ocelli, of which there are a variable number usually situated on the top of the head. The compound eyes are present in almost all fully developed insects, but the ocelli are very frequently absent. In insect larvæ and in spiders ocelli are the only organs of sight.

With regard to the actual power of vision possessed by insects little is known with certainty at present. There is no doubt that some species see much better than others. I remember specially noticing this when the European blowfly (Calliphora erythrocephala) first appeared in New Zealand during 1888. At that time both the native and introduced species were to be seen resting on fences in the Wellington Botanical Gardens. I experienced considerable difficulty in capturing the European species, owing to its great agility, but could capture the native insect with comparative ease. This circumstance was undoubtedly due to the superior power

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of vision possessed by the European insect. I afterwards proved this by experiment. When a number of both insects were resting close together I would gradually move my hand towards them, and I noticed that the introduced blowflies invariably saw my hand and took wing before the native species. I verified this by numerous experiments and always obtained the same results.

Ordinary observation in the field proves that some insects undoubtedly have very keen sight, and almost every one must have noticed that dragon-flies and butterflies are especially well endowed in this respect.

Another interesting question in connection with the vision of insects is the relative functions of the simple and compound eyes. A large number of experiments have been made, and it appears probable that the ocelli are useful in dark places and for near vision. Lord Avebury adds: “Whatever the special function of the ocelli may be, it seems clear that they must see in the same manner as our eyes do—that is to say, the image must be reversed. On the other hand, in the case of the compound eyes it seems probable that the vision is direct, and the difficulty of accounting for the existence in the same animal of two such different kinds of eyes is certainly enhanced by the fact that, as it would seem, the image given by the medial eyes is reversed, while that of the lateral ones is direct.”

The modern theories of the evolution of flowers through the agency of insect visitors is now very generally accepted amongst naturalists, but it is obvious that these ideas would be effectually disproved if it could be demonstrated that insects were unable to distinguish colours. The following experiments conducted by Lord Avebury prove, I think, that bees, at any rate, possess the faculty of distinguishing colours: “I brought a bee to some honey which I placed on a slip of glass laid on blue paper, and about 3 ft. off I placed a similar drop of honey on orange paper. With a drop of honey before her a bee takes two or three minutes to fill herself, then flies away, stores up the honey, and returns for more. My hives were about 200 yards from the window, and the bees were absent about three minutes, or even less. When working quietly they fly very quickly, and the actual journeys to and fro did not take more than a few seconds. After the bee had returned twice I transposed the papers; but she returned to the honey on the blue paper. I allowed her to continue this for some time, and then again transposed the papers. She returned to the old spot and was just going to alight when she observed the change of colour, pulled herself up, and without a moment's hesitation darted off to the blue. No one who saw her at that moment

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could have the slightest doubt about her perceiving the difference between the two colours. I also made a number of similar observations with red, yellow, green, and white.”

The remarkable power which many animals have of finding their way back after having been carried a long distance from home has been explained by some persons as due to a special faculty which has been termed a “sense of direction.” In connection with this subject M. Fabre made a number of interesting and amusing experiments. “He took ten bees belonging to the genus Chalicodoma, marked them on the back with a spot of white, and put them in a bag. He then carried them half a kilometre in one direction, stopping at a point where an old cross stands by the wayside, and whirled the bag rapidly round his head. While he was doing so a good woman came by, who was not a little surprised to find the professor standing in front of the old cross solemnly whirling a bag round his head, and, M. Fabre fears, strongly suspected him of some satanic practice. However this may be, M. Fabre, having sufficiently whirled his bees, started off back in the opposite direction, and carried his prisoners to a distance from their home of three kilometres. Here he again whirled them round and let them go one by one. They made one or two turns round him, and then flew off in the direction of home. In the meanwhile his daughter Antonia was on the watch. The first bee did the mile and three-quarters in a quarter of an hour. Some hours after two more returned; the other seven did not reappear. The next day he repeated this experiment with ten other bees; the first returned in five minutes, and two more in about an hour. In this case again seven out of ten failed to find their way home. In another experiment he took forty-nine bees. When let out a few started wrong, but he says that, ‘while the rapidity of the flight allows me to recognise the direction followed,’ the great majority flew homewards. The first arrived in fifteen minutes. In an hour and a half eleven had returned, in five hours six more, making seventeen out of forty-nine. Again, he experimented with twenty, of which seven found their way home. In the next experiment he took the bees rather further—to a distance of about two miles and a quarter. In an hour and a half two had returned, in three hours and a half seven more; total, nine out of forty. Lastly, he took thirty bees. Fifteen, marked rose, he took by a roundabout route of over five miles; the other fifteen, marked blue, he sent straight to the rendezvous, about a mile and a half from home. All the thirty were let out at noon, by 5 in the evening seven ‘rose’ bees and six ‘blue’ bees had returned, so that the long detour had made no appreciable difference. These experiments seem to M. Fabre conclusive. The

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demonstration is sufficient. Neither the bewildering movements of a rotation like I have described; neither the obstacle of hillocks to pass over and of woods to cross; neither the snares of a track which starts, goes back, and comes again by a very circuitous way can confuse the Chalicodomas on their homeward way and hinder them from coming back to the nest.” When these experiments are summarised, however, it appears that only forty-seven bees out of 144 actually found their way home, which is a very small proportion when the question of a special unerring instinct is involved.

The following experiment, conducted by the late Mr. Romanes, conclusively proves that it is by sight, and sight alone, that bees find their way home: “In connection,” he says, “with Sir John Lubbock's paper at the British Association, in which this subject is treated, it is perhaps worth while to describe some experiments which I made last year. The question to be answered is whether bees find their way home merely by their knowledge of land - marks, or by means of some mysterious faculty usually termed a ‘sense of direction.’ The ordinary impression appears to have been that they do so in virtue of some such sense, and are therefore independent of any special knowledge of the district in which they may be suddenly liberated; and, as Sir John observes, this impression was corroborated by the experiments of M. Fabre. The conclusions drawn from these experiments, however, appeared to me, as they appeared to Sir John, unwarranted by the facts, and therefore, like him, I repeated them, with certain variations. In the result I satisfied myself that the bees depend entirely upon their special knowledge of the district or land-marks, and it is because my experiments thus fully corroborate those which were made by Sir John that it now occurs to me to publish them. The house where I conducted the observations is situated several hundred yards from the coast, with flower-gardens on each side and lawns between the house and the sea. Therefore bees starting from the house would find their honey on either side of it, while the lawns in front would be rarely or never visited, being themselves barren of honey and leading only to the sea. Such being the geographical conditions, I placed a hive of bees in one of the front rooms on the basement of the house. When the bees became thoroughly well acquainted with their new quarters by flying in and out of the open window for a fortnight I began the experiments. The modus operandi consisted in closing the window after dark when all the bees were in their hive, and also slipping a glass shutter in front of the hive-door, so that all the bees were doubly imprisoned. Next morning I slightly raised the glass shutter, thus enabling

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any desired number of bees to escape. When the desired number had escaped the glass shutter was again closed, and all the liberated bees were caught as they buzzed about the inside of the shut window. These bees were then counted into a box, the window of the room opened, and a card well smeared over with birdlime placed upon the threshold of the beehive, or just in front of the closed glass shutter. The object of all these arrangements was to obviate the necessity of marking the bees, and so to enable me not merely to experiment with ease upon any number of individuals that I might desire, but also to feel confident that no one individual could return to the hive unnoticed; for whenever a bee returned it was certain to become entangled in the birdlime, and whenever I found a bee so entangled I was certain it was one I had taken from the hive, as there were no other hives in the neighbourhood. Such being the method, I began by taking a score of bees in the box out to sea, where there could be no land-marks to guide the insects home. Had any of these insects returned, I should next have taken another score out to sea (after an interval of several days so as to be sure that the first lot had become permanently lost), and then before liberating them have rotated the box in a sling for a considerable time, in order to see whether this would have confused their sense of direction. But as none of the bees returned after the first experiment it was clearly needless to proceed to the second. Accordingly I liberated the next lot of bees on the sea-shore; and as none of these returned I liberated another lot on the lawn between the shore and the house. I was somewhat surprised to find that neither did any of these return, although the distance from the lawn to the hive was not above 200 yards. Lastly, I liberated bees in different parts of the flower-garden, and these I always found stuck upon the birdlime within a few minutes of their liberation; indeed, they often arrived before I had had time to run from the place where I had liberated them to the hive. Now, as the garden was a large one, many of these bees had to fly a greater distance in order to reach the hive than was the case with their lost sisters upon the lawn, and therefore I could have no doubt that their uniform success in finding their way home so immediately was due to their special knowledge of the flower-garden, and not to any general sense of direction. I may add that, while in Germany a few weeks ago, I tried on several species of ant the same experiments as Sir John Lubbock describes in his paper as having been tried by him upon English species, and here also I obtained identical results—in all cases the ants were hopelessly lost if liberated more than a moderate distance from their nest.” Mr. Romanes's experiments, therefore, as he

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himself says, entirely confirm the opinion Lord Avebury expressed—that there is not sufficient evidence among insects of anything which can justly be called a “sense of direction.”

In conclusion, I should like to allude to the very remarkable discovery made by Lord Avebury some years ago in connection with the limits of vision in ants—i.e., the power possessed by those insects of perceiving the ultra-violet rays of the spectrum, which are invisible to human eyes. This fact was elicited by means of a very exhaustive series of experiments, during which the ants were placed under variously coloured glasses, and also under two distinct, though exactly similarly coloured, chemical solutions, one of which intercepted the ultra-violet rays, whilst the other allowed these invisible rays to pass through it The results of these numerous experiments are very conclusive, and are recounted at length in Lord Avebury's delightful book on “Ants, Bees, and Wasps” I will not now repeat the details of these experiments, but the following general reflections suggested by this discovery are of more than passing interest, and may well conclude this address: “Again, it has been shown that animals hear sounds which are beyond the range of our hearing, and that they can perceive the ultra-violet rays, which are invisible to our eyes. Now, as every ray of homogeneous light, which we can perceive at all, appears to us as a distinct colour, it becomes probable that these ultra-violet rays must make themselves apparent to the ants as a distinct and separate colour (of which we can form no idea), but as different from the rest as red is from yellow or green from violet. The question also arises whether white light to these insects would differ from our white light in containing this additional colour. At any rate, as few of the colours in nature are pure, but almost all arise from the combination of rays of different wavelengths, and as in such cases the visible resultant would be composed not only of the rays we see, but of these and the ultra-violet, it would appear that the colours of objects and the general aspect of nature must present to animals a very different appearance from what it does to us.

“These considerations cannot but raise the reflection how different the world may—I was going to say must—appear to other animals from what it does to us. Sound is the sensation produced on us when the vibrations of the air strike on the drum of our ear. When they are few the sound is deep; as they increase in number it becomes shriller and shriller; but when they reach forty thousand in a second they cease to be audible. Light is the effect produced on us when waves of light strike on the eye. When four hundred millions of millions of vibrations of ether strike the retina in a second they produce red, and as the number increases the colour

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passes into orange, then yellow, green, blue, and violet. But between forty thousand vibrations in a second and four hundred millions of millions we have no organ of sense capable of receiving the impression. Yet between these limits any number of sensations may exist. We have five senses, and sometimes fancy that no others are possible. But it is obvious that we cannot measure the infinite by our own narrow limitations.

“Moreover, looking at the question from the other side, we find in animals complex organs of sense richly supplied with nerves, but the function of which we are as yet powerless to explain. There may be fifty other senses as different from ours as sound is from sight; and even within the boundaries of our own senses there may be endless sounds which we cannot hear, and colours, as different as red from green, of which we have no conception. These and a thousand other questions remain for solution. The familiar world which surrounds us may be a totally different place to other animals. To them it may be full of music which we cannot hear, of colour which we cannot see, of sensations which we cannot conceive. To place stuffed birds and beasts in glass cases, to arrange insects in cabinets and dry plants in drawers, is merely the drudgery and preliminary of study; to watch their habits, to understand their relations to one another, to study their instincts and intelligence, to ascertain their adaptations and their relations to the forces of nature, to realise what the world appears to them—these constitute, as it seems to me at least, the true interest of natural history, and may even give us the clue to senses and perceptions of which at present we have no conception.”

Art. III.—Notes on the Comet of April, May, and June, 1901..

[Read before the Wellington Philosophical Society, 25th June, 1901.]

Plate I.

My wife and I simultaneously saw this comet from Karori on the morning of the 25th April, at 5.25 a.m. It was then rising behind the eastern ranges, and was sufficiently bright to be conspicuous as a distinct streak of light through some light cirrus cloud in the sky at the time. At about 5.40 it rose clear of the cirrus, and its brightness was so great that I was much surprised that it had not been reported as previously observed. A cablegram announcing that it had been seen in

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New South Wales the same morning—though, of course, some two hours later—was, however, received during the day.

Bad weather prevented further observations until Sunday morning, the 28th April, when the comet was visible for a few minutes only, owing to its close proximity to the sun. It rose about 5.53 a.m., and was overpowered by the daylight at 6.10 a.m. Unfortunately, my observatory is so situated that I could not reach it so low in the heavens, and, although I carefully swept for it between 7 and 8 a.m., I did not succeed in finding it. Judging from the view I had of the planet Mercury, I am disposed to think that the comet might have been seen with my 3¼ in. telescope at that hour, as the morning was extremely clear and bright. I next saw the comet on Tuesday, the 30th April, at 5.40 p.m. My point of observation was the main road across the Kelburne Estate. At this time the comet appeared about as bright as Mercury; the tail was indistinct, owing to the strong daylight. As it set ten minutes after I first saw it, I was unable to get home to my telescope.

The next evening—Wednesday, the 1st May—I had the first satisfactory view of the comet through the telescope. The nucleus was very bright, comparatively distinct, and somewhat bean-shaped. The coma was some distance in front of it, and swept round on either side, flowing away behind the nucleus and forming two very distinct tails. There was little change on Thursday, the 2nd May. On Friday, the 3rd May, some traces of the long, faint southern tail, which afterwards became such a remarkable feature of this comet, were first seen, but not clearly until Sunday. Whilst the tails were increasing in length and brightness the nucleus declined in size, brilliancy, and distinctness. The coma appeared to be gradually swept back, until on Tuesday, the 7th, the nucleus was entirely in front of it. By this time I think the comet was beginning to decrease in brilliancy, though the disappearance of the moon during the early evening of Monday, the 6th, rendered it difficult to make any reliable comparisons with previous observations. I was, however, in the habit of noticing what stars could be seen when the comet first became visible in the evening twilight, and, from these comparative observations, I am confident that the nucleus, at any rate, considerably decreased in brilliancy before the 6th May. This, I may mention, was the first evening without the moon, and it is therefore probable that the comet would have been seen to much greater advantage had the evenings been dark during the first week of its appearance in the evening sky. The two sketches (Plate I.) which accompany these notes were made on the evening of the 6th May. One is a telescopic view of the head, and the other an attempt to show the comet as it appeared to the naked eye.

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The 9th, 10th, and 11th May were cloudy, and on the 12th, when the comet was again seen, with its tail straight along the belt of Orion, a very great decrease in brilliancy had taken place. Beyond a further steady decrease I did not observe any noteworthy features during the succeeding week; but several other observers remarked to me that the space between the long, faint southern tail and the two brilliant northern tails appeared to be filled in with cometary matter of extreme tenuity.

From this period to the final disappearance of the comet in my telescope on the 15th June there is nothing special to note, except, perhaps, that after about the 20th May the nucleus became slightly brighter in relation to the tail, though, of course, the entire object was continually becoming fainter.

The following rough positions of the comet, taken on the dates stated, will enable amateur astronomers, who are interested, to mark out the track it followed through the constellations during the period I observed it. They were taken with an equatorial telescope of only 3¼ in. aperture, and are merely rough approximations. The right ascensions are probably correct within about one minute of time, and the declinations within ten minutes of arc. I have inserted them as they may be of some interest to other amateur observers, and it is also, perhaps, possible they may be of some little use to professional astronomers in estimating the probable orbit of the comet:—

[The section below cannot be correctly rendered as it contains complex formatting. See the image of the page for a more accurate rendering.]

H m °
April 25 1 22 4 0 N.
May 1 3 07 0 30 S.
" 2 3 22 0 45 S.
" 3 3 38 0 30 S.
" 4 3 50 0 20 S.
" 5 4 0 0 05 S.
" 6 4 14 0 10 N.
" 7 4 25 0 35 N.
" 8 4 38 1 0 N.
" 12 5 11 2 30 N.
" 13 5 20 2 55 N.
" 14 5 28 3 15 N.

[The section below cannot be correctly rendered as it contains complex formatting. See the image of the page for a more accurate rendering.]

Right Ascension. Declination.
H. m. ° '
May 15 5 33 3 35 N.
" 16 5 40 4 0 N.
" 17 5 45 4 20 N.
" 19 5 57 4 55 N.
" 20 5 59 5 15 N.
" 22 6 8 5 45 N.
" 23 6 13 6 10 N.
" 24 6 18 6 20 N.
" 25 6 23 6 30 N.
June 9 7 03 9 0 N.
" 10 7 06 9 15 N.
" 15 7 12 9 40 N.
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Art. IV.—The Diversions of the Whare Tapere: Some Account of the various Games, Amusements, and Trials of Skill practised by the Maori in Former Times..

[Read before the Auckland Institute, 7th October, 1901.]

“Ka kawea tatou e te rehia” (We are allured by the arts of pleasure).

Among races not possessing a written language and literature it is not surprising to find that great prominence is given to games and amusements of various kinds, more especially to those which would serve to while away the hours of darkness.

The Maori people of this land, although possessing no graphic system prior to the arrival of Europeans, had, nevertheless, a most extensive collection of ancient sagas, songs, history, folk and other lore retained by their wondrous memories, and thus handed down orally from one generation to another. Such knowledge was most extensively drawn upon during winter evenings or inclement weather for the amusement of the people. They possessed, moreover, a great liking for amusements in the form of games, dancing, toys, and, as we have said, story-telling. As little has been placed on record anent such matters, I propose to bring together in this article such notes under the above heading as have been collected from the Tuhoe Tribe of natives. It is therefore safe to say that this article will be by no means an exhaustive one, and will but serve to give an idea of what forms of games, &c., were indulged in by the denizens of Tuhoeland in pre-pakeha days. Such amusements would be described by the modern Maori as “ahuareka,” but in the days of yore they were described by the term “rehia,” and “Nga mahi a te rehia” meant “the art of pleasure.”

The Whare Tapere.

The whare tapere was a house where the young people of a fort or village would gather at night in order to amuse themselves in various ways—i.e., with singing, dancing, playing of games, &c. It was the play-house of the neolithic Maori, and doubtless the prototype of the modern theatre of the intrusive pakeha (Europeans). It was not necessary that a village should have a house set aside or used specially for amusement. Such terms as “whare tapere,” “whare potae,” “whare pora,” &c., are to a great extent mere figures of speech. Still all amusements are spoken of as the arts of the whare tapere—i.e., the art of pleasure.

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In this article I propose to deal not only with such forms of amusement as pertained to the whare tapere, but also to pass out from that edifice in order to mention certain outdoor games of past generations; for of all the ancient games of Maoriland but few have survived, and those few are not as the men of old knew them: the trail of the pakeha is over them all.

The Personification of Pleasure.

Kant speaks of the category of causality as being a necessary form of pure reason. It is highly improbable that the ancient Maori had perused the works of the latter-day Teutonic philosopher. There are a few chronological and other reasons against such an assumption. And although his primitive intellect has ever felt that causality exists, yet he would but know it in an abstract form—that is to say, as a law of thought. That half-knowledge, however, prompted his crude mental powers to seek not the true cause of things, but the agency by which they were presented to his sight, hearing, or understanding. Thus the ancient Maori had, after how many centuries of groping through the gloom, personified almost everything that came under his notice. His limited mentality sought an agent for all things, and that agent was invariably presented to his vision in human form. Thus in the extensive and wondrous Maori mythology we find personifications—i.e., anthropomorphous agents—which represent war, peace, disease, the sky, the earth, the sun, moon, and stars, meteors, rainbows, fire, water, fish, birds, trees, heat, the seasons, death, &c.

In like manner are the arts of carving, weaving, &c., supplied with such personifications, and a myth of a similar nature is attached to the art of pleasure. Games and amusements have their mythic agent or tutelary deity, to whom is attributed their invention. Among the majority of Maori tribes this personification or agent is Rau-kata-uri, a name often coupled with that of Rau-kata-mea. To these are attributed flute-playing and games of amusement. Among the Tuhoe Tribe, however, the places of the above are taken by Marere-o-tonga and Takataka-putea. These two mythical beings were, to the Child of Tamatea,* the origin and personification of nga mahi a te rehia—the art of pleasure. The names of many such personifications, &c., differ among the Tuhoe Tribe, which may be explained by the fact that among these people are preserved the purest versions of the myths, rites, and legends of the original migration of Polynesians to this land, a migration that probably emanated from the

[Footnote] * The Child of Tamatea: A term applied to the Tuhoe Tribe.

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western Pacific, whereas the latter migration came from the far east.

It should be here remarked that these personifications or tutelary genii are not termed “gods” (atua) by the Maori, but merely “parents” or “origins.” In like manner the rendering of the word “atua” by the term “god” is objectionable; “demon” is more acceptable.

The following is a genealogy of Takataka-putea and Marere-o-tonga, although certain traditions place them much further back. It is well to note here that the Maori looks upon most of the singular personifications of Polynesian mythology as ancestors of man, and traces his descent from many of them, as, indeed, he does from the sky, the earth, the heavenly bodies, &c.:—

In White's “Ancient History of the Maori,” vol. iii, page 23, is the following sentence: “Nukutere was the vessel of Whiro-nui, ancestor of Porou-rangi, and of his wife Arai-

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ara The wise men (tohunga) of that vessel were Takatakaputea and Marere-o-tonga.” Again, at page 7 is the following: “Uenuku asked, ‘O, Whena! Where are our children?’ And Whena replied, ‘They are allured by pleasure (rehia). They are enjoying the arts of their ancestors, of Takataka-putea and Marere-o-tonga.’ In Shortland's “Maori Religion,” page 17, these two are said to be twins, and the offspring of Papa-tuanuku, or Mother Earth.

Takataka-putea is the name of one of the nights of the moon, either the last or one of the last. When the moon dies then the wise men say, “Takataka-putea is in the hole (abyss or space) rolling about.”

The following fragment of mythological lore, preserved by Ngati-awa, places this pair far back in the night of time: “When Rongo was defeated by Tu-mata-uenga he went to the whare patahi, to Marere-o-tonga and Timu-whakairia, to fetch the wananga to seek for peace. The wananga brought to this land (New Zealand) was the wananga of witchcraft. It was brought on Takitumu.” The whare patahi appears to have been some sacred place or receptacle for sacred things. “Wananga” is a difficult word to define the meaning of. Meanings thereof given to me are—(1) A priest or seer; (2) a receptacle for sacred things; (3) a medium, as of a god; (4) (as a verb) to recite, as a genealogy, or declaim, as in reviling a person. In Paumotuan “vananga” means “to warn by advice, counsel; to discourse.” Hawaiian wanana, “to prophesy.” In Mangarevan vananga is “a herald, an orator, a prayer”; as a verb, “to name again and again,” &c.; while etua-vananga means “a war-chief.” Wanawana in Maori (New Zealand) means “spines, bristles, rays,” &c.

The whare patahi was probably some form of primitive temple or repository, material or imaginary. Possibly it may have been the ancient prototype of the whata puaroa. The following fragment seems to denote that it was a sort of temple of peace, or talisman:—

Te whare patahi
E hui te rongo,
E hui te rongo,
E puta mai ki waho.

The following song was sung when peace was desired or about to be cemented. Tuhoe say that it was composed by Te Turuki (Te Kooti of infamous memory), but it bears an ancient impress:—

E mahi ana ano a Tu raua ko Rongo
I ta raua mā;ra, koia Pohutukawa
Ka patua tenei, koia moenga kura
Ka patua tetahi, koia moenga toto
Na raua ano ka he 1 te rir

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Ka tikina ki raro ra
Kia Marere o-tonga, kia Timu-whakairia
E ora ana te wananga—e
Mauria mai nei ko te rongo-a-whare
Ko te rongo-taketake
Ki mua ki te atua
Ka whakaoti te riri—e.

The following song is very old, and refers to the period of the Maori sojourn in Rarotonga, about five hundred years ago. It contains references to a well-known incident in Maori history, and also mentions the name of Marere-o-tonga:—

Noho noa whati tata, haereere noa ra te takutai
Kua pono ano ki te iwi no paraoa
Mauria mai nei hai heru ‘tahi taha
Hai patu ‘tahi taha
Manaakitia mai nei e Uenuku
Tae noa mai nei kua he te iringa o te heru
Me ui ra ki te poupou o te whare,
Kaore te ki mai te waha
Me ui ra ki te tuarongo o te whare,
Kaore te ki mai te waha
Me ui ra ki te tiki nei, kia Kahutia-te-rangi
Kai hea taku heru?
Tena ka riro i te tahae poriro tiraumoko nei
Moenga-hau nei, moenga raukawakawa nei.
Ka mate tera i te whakama
Ka hiko ki tona waka
Kia Tu-te-pewa-a-rangi nei
Ka hoe ki waho ki te moana
Ka unuhia te koremu
Ka mate i reira Epipi, ka mate i reira Tahau
Ka mate i reira te ara o Tu-mahina nei
Matariki ka* kau i te ata nei—e
Tena a Ruatapu kai te whakakau
I te moana e takoto nei—e
Te hinga nei—e. Te wharenga nei—e
Te marara nei—e
Pokia iho ra te Puke ki Hikurangi
Tutu noa ana Marere-o-tonga kia mau.

Hamiora Pio, of the Children of Awa, says, “Rongo visited Marere-o-tonga and Timu-whakairia. When Rongo returned from his visit to the heavens he saw Marere-o-tonga blocking up a cave to enclose him in. Then Rongo slew Marere-o-tonga, who may be seen by looking up into space—he is suspended from the heavens.”

But the door of the whare tapere is open. The young people of the year 400 Anno Toi are collected therein, and the games and amusements of old are in full swing. We will enter and seat ourselves on the right-hand side, against the wall. We are looking upon the young people of that date, clothed simply in kilt or girdle, and collected in picturesque

[Footnote] * Or kakau, a star.

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groups. We stay time and roll back the years that you may see the amusements of the Children of Toi, the arts of the where tapere—nga mahi a te rehia, a te harakoa—the arts of pleasure and of joy. We produce the modern notebook.Ka kawea tatou e te rehia:

Haka: Posture Dances.

The haka was the most general and popular form of amusement in the whare tapere of old, and it is one of the few that have survived the advent of the white man. There were, and still are, many different forms of haka, some of which, as the haka koiri, are now obsolete, and many show traces of European influence. They are interesting to onlookers inasmuch as the performers keep such remarkably good time in the various movements. And such movements are many; the limbs, head, hips, and body are all subjected to various flourishing, swaying, or quivering motions, many of a dædalian nature and none awkward or uncouth, but graceful and pleasing to the eye.

Haka are composed in honour of a distinguished guest or important personage, to satirise or show approval of some individual or tribal act, or to deride and belittle an enemy. The latter, however, is probably more properly termed a “ngeri.”

New haka are often composed, even in these degenerate times, on the lines given above.

The following fragment will explain the way of rendering a haka:

The fugleman (solus): “A-a-a-a-a-a! He ringa pakia.”

[Here all players begin to strike their hands on their thighs, in time.]

Fugleman: “I ki mai nga iwi o te motu nei ma te rohe potae au ka mate.”

Chorus: “Kaore!”

Fugleman: “I ki mai nga iwi o te motu nei ma te rohe potae au au ka mate.”

Chorus: “Kaore! Kaore!”

All continue: “Ma (mea tangata), he aha! Ma (mea tangata), he aha! Ma Timi Kara e whakawhaiti,” &c.

The origin of the haka is, so say the Maori, the haka a Raumati (the dancing of Raumati, the personification of summer). This term is applied to the quivering appearance of heated air as seen on a hot day. Another name for it is te haka a Tane-rore, the latter being the offspring of summer. In the ancient Maori mythology Te Ra (the sun) married Raumati (summer), their offspring being Tane-rore, the quivering heat. When Ruaumoko (god or demon of the underworld and originator of earthquakes) pulls the cords that move the

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earth, then the haka a Tane-rore is seen. The following is the haka of Raumati:—

E whiti te ra, paroro ki te kiri
Ka haramai koe, ka ruru i aku iwi
I te hinapouri kerekere
I taia iho nei ki raro ra i au e
Pai aha ha!

The following is the original haka, the first one known in the world:—

Aue! Te ra, te whetu, ka rere mai i te pae
Ko Kopu koia kapokapo mai e i te tautara
Kia auroroa i au e.

If in summer-time you look upwards you will see the haka of Raumati flashing and twinkling in space. That is the origin of the haka of the world.

The following is an old-time haka:

Ka tito au, ka tito au, ka tito au, kia Kupe
Te tangata nana i hoehoe te moana
Tu ke a Kapiti, tu ke Māna, tu ke Aropawa
Ko nga tohu tena a taku tupuna a Kupe
Nana i whakatomene Titapua
Ka toreke ia te whenua—e.

When performing haka the performers always vie with each other as to who shall give the best rendering, and many traditions are extant as to young women being captivated by the grace of movement displayed by men in these dances. For the whare tapere was the place where the young people met together in former times to pass the evening in various amusements, after the labours of the day were over. Elderly people would also be present, and some of them would take part in games or haka. I have seen an old native of seventy unable to resist the fascinations of a haka, and throw off his blanket and join in.

The words of a haka are either sung by all the performers, or, in some cases, the fugleman leads off for a line or two and the others join in as a kind of chorus, as we have shown. The term “haka,” is applied to both the dance and the song which accompanies it. The time for the various motions appears to be taken from the song.

The following haka is one of a type known as a manawa wera, which were sung and danced on the return of an unsuccessful war-party. As the defeated warriors marched into the village home they were met by a band of people, principally women, dressed in old disreputable garments (the sackcloth and ashes of the Maori), who pranced before them and indulged in those violent energetic movements termed “whākapi” or “pikari,” the emitting of most distressing grunts, and the exhibiting of the whites of the eyes. They would

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perform and sing the haka, which, with the above performances, denoted grief for those slain and anger against the hapless who had lost the day and returned alive. Such is the manawa wera, or seared heart.

Te kotiritiri, te kotaratara, o tai, o huki, o hope—e
Whakatitaha rawa te waha o te kupenga ki uta
Kia tairi—a-ha-ha!
Hoki mai, hoki mai—e
Kia kawea koe ki tera whenua
Ki era tangata,
Nana i ki mai
Uhi! Uhi!—e-e

Another class of haka are those repeated while playing certain games, as we shall see anon. Others, again, are juvenile jingles repeated by children for their own amusement. The following are samples of such:—


No wai te waka e rere i waho i te moana
No Kari-momona te wawata tiko tata.


Tikina kotatia te waka o nga tamariki
Kai te hoko titi, kai te hoko tata
E ka poroporo mai hoki
Te poro ki to tehe.


Po kaka, tahuna mai he rama
Kia marama a Pipora tatutatu na
Tĕkĕrĕ! Takere! Takere!

The following are specimens of modern haka. They were composed and sung, with the usual wild gestures, by the Tuhoe Tribe when the Land Commission first sat at Te Whaiti and the long battle commenced for the possession of that land:—

Te tangi mai a te ika nei, a te poraka
Ku-keke-keke a Tuboe ki Te Whaiti!
Kai a Raharuhi te paenga mai o te ure putete
Te huruhuru a e apu ra i te kirikiri tai—e-ha!
Titiro ki runga! titiro ki raro!
Titiro ki te mana motuhake e rere mai nei—e!
Hihi ana mai te pene a te Komihana!
A hihi ana mai! Aue!

In the above Tuhoe compare their descent on Te Whaiti, in order to establish claims by conquest and mana, with the appearance and rapid increase of the frog, which has only of late reached these parts. In the sixth and seventh lines they call upon their old-time serfs to look up and gaze upon the flag of Tuhoeland, across which runs the legend: “Te mana motuhake mo Tuhoe” (The special mana for the Tuhoe Tribe).

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Homai aku kura
Naku ano aku Komihana i tiki
Ki te puna o Poneke heri mai ai
Titiro ki raro! titiro ki runga!
Titiro kia Matariki!
Titiro! Titiro! Titiro!

The Poi.

The poi may be said to be allied to the haka, and is so styled by the natives. The poi dance (so termed) is performed by females. Each performer has a small, light ball made of leaves of the raupo tightly rolled, and having a string attached to it. In times past these poi balls were ornamented by attaching the long hair from the tail of the Maori dog, now extinct. The players hold the string, and, timing each movement to the poi song (rangi poi), twirl the light balls in many directions—now in front of the body, now over the right shoulder, then the left, &c. The players stand in ranks while performing. One of these time songs commences thus:—

Kia rite! kia rite! kia rite!
Kokiri kai waho, &c.

Here the words “kia rite” mean “keep time,” and the players take their time from the words, the movement of the ball changing at the second line. This game has been revived of late years, and was one of the attractions of the Maori meeting at Rotorua at the time of the visit of our Royal guests in June, 1901. We give below some of the old poi time songs as sung or chaunted during the game.

The following was used both as a rangi poi and as an oriori, or lullaby. It was composed by one Hine-i-turama to sing to her child, which same child was in the form of a stone, and which that estimable woman used to nurse and sing to—a by no means uncommon thing among childless native women. It reminds one of the Dutch sooterkin:—

E noho ana ano i tona taumata i Tihei
E papaki kau ana te paihau o te manu
Kei tata mai ki taku taha
E poi ana te tara i raro
Kia riro mai taku ipu kai ra
Ko Te Heuheu, i whakatapua ki te aha te hau tapa
Tikapo au anake e kai nei i te roro o Takeke
Kai atu, whakairihia ki te patanga (pataka)
Kai atu patanga, ko te kai ra i korongatia
Te ngakau ko Tukino
Kia utaina ki te tiwai, e hoe au ki tawhiti
Ki au, i tauhou au ko Whakaari
Ki te puke tapuku Paepae-o-Aotea
Kia takahia atu te moana o Kupe
Ki Whanga-ra ko Matioro
Ka toi au ki Hawaiki, ki te kai ra i rauri (rari) noa mai
Te raweketia e te ringaringa
Me whakatangi te korowhiti ki Tauri-toatoa,

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Kia Te Ngahue, ki Matakawa, kia Te Pori-o-te-rangi
Ko te au ra i nohoia e te takupu o te Whai-a-Paoa
Kia ope noa te kutikuti, kia ope noa te whakairoiro
Hai maru haerenga mo maua ko taku tamaiti poriro.
Mo Tu-wairua, mo paki kau noa mai
E te ngutu o te tangata.
Nau mai hoki ra, e te iwi!
Kia kite koe i te whare whanaunga tamariki
Ka whakaaro-rangi tenei ki Tikirau, kia Te Puta-hou
Kia tawaria taku tua ki te kope rawhiti ki tae iho
Me kore te matarae i Whanga-paraoa
Ko te Wewehi-o-te-rangi
E aki kau ana te tai ki Ahuriri
Ka tika tutuki te koronga ki te Kaha-makau-rau
Kia te hoa a Tiki ko te rawa hoki e Whata
I whakairia ai toku teke mai tutakina na mata kia karapipiti
Ako rawa ake ki te ai a te tui ko te ngutu koikoia
Na kete tahora mo kai toku whaea i riro atu na
I waiho ai hai hikihiki taua ki te ihu o Pauanui
Ko te hapu pararaki to Peha taua te kiri wharauna
Ki te whare ka to poriro au na
I moe atu aku kanohi kia Tukorehu
Ki te hunga nana i takitaki taku mate
Ka ea Waipohue
Kati ra te whakakeke na i te patanga
Huatakitini te hapai o taitaia Maui
Kia tihao atu te tihi ki Tongariro
Kia matotoru, e rua aku ringa
Ki te haramai ki te aitanga a Tuwharetoa
Hai kai—e.

A Rangi Poi.

Poi maru nui, maru roa, whiu noa, ta noa,
Ki te hika tamariki, ki te hika ropa
Te tauwheke kui, te tauwheke koro ki te hika
Ka haruharuatia, ka ewe kuritia
Ka hanga ta te pakeke pirori haere ai
Te mahi a te pakeke ka motu kai te wha
Kai te whakapohanehane tara kai raro
Matoetoe ano te waruhanga e tu nei
Te whakatau iho, te whakatau ake
Kai hea he ara rerenga mai e te poi
Kei Kawhia, kei Marokopa, kei te akau
Kei te tipuranga mai o te poi—e ha!
I kinitia i te tou o te tamariki
Whainga whekiki ki au—e poi e.

A Rangi Poi.

Tenei te poi, tenei te poi
Horohoronga e to ringaringa
Hokohokona ki te tamaiti
Tamaiti rurenga rau, e ha!
Hurua ki raro ki te kăkă
Ka kotamu toku, ka kotamu to Ngaroria
Ka kotamu ki taua tangata
Tahi ano ko te pakuru anake
E hia po e whai atu ai, ka tahuri mai tu Hakaraia
Haere, whakataha te haere
A kura-winiwini tara koa

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Kai hea he ara rerenga mai mou, e te poi
Kai Kawhia, kai Marokopa, kai te akau
Kai te tipuranga mai o te poi—e ha!
Kinitia i te tou o te tamariki
Whainga whekiki ki au
E poi—e!

A Rangi Poi.

Poi marungarunga iho, mararoraro ake
Tupotupou ana ka eke kaipuke hamua
Kei whea he ara rerenga mai mou, e te poi,” &c. (see ante).

A Rangi Poi (composed by Ruinga-rangi).

Poia atu taku poi, wania atu taku poi
Nga pikitanga ki Otairi
Papatairite mai ki Patea
Ka tirotiro ki te One-tapu, taiawhio tonu ki Taupo
Ko Te Rohu, ko Te Rerehau
E whae ma! Kia tika mai te whakaaro ki konei
Mo aku haere ruahine ki kona
He nui tonu mai, he iti taku iti
Ehara i muri nei no tua whakarere
No aku kaumatua i whaia ki Heretaunga
Ko Puoro-rangi, ko Tarapuhi ki rawe ra
Maua taku tara ki te hapai awe
Ki nga whenua tapapa ana i te hiwi ki Horohoro
Ka matau tonu au ki Tarawera, ko Te Hemahema
Ka rere titaha te rere a taku poi
E oma ana i te tai pouri ki Rotorua
Ko Pare-hokotoru, ko Te Apoapo, ko Ngatoro
Kai hea te rae ka hapainga mai,
Kai Tauranga (a) Tupaea
Ko te mea ra e wawatatia e maua ko taku poi
Tiherutia i te wai ki Hauraki, ko Hapai, ko Taraia
Tu tonu mai taua-iti kai Mahurangi
Ko Te Ao-hau, ko Tiaho
Ka taupatupatu te rere a taku poi
Nga ia tuku ki Wai-kato
Ko Potatau, ko Te Paea, ko Matutaera
E taoro nei i te nuku o te whenua
Hai mana mo Aotea-roa, potaea.


Here is another game of the whare tapere of old. The titi-touretua is played by six or more persons, who sit in a circle a little distance apart from each other. Four sticks, some 2 ft. or 2½ ft. in length, are used. These are sometimes quaintly carved. Four of the players have each a stick, held vertically before him in the right hand. In time to the accompanying song they swing these sticks up and down, and, at a certain word in the song, the sticks are thrown to others across the circle and dexterously caught. The sticks are thrown simultaneously, and must not be allowed to strike each other in their flight. Every movement is performed at the proper time, which is given by the song sung by the

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players. One movement is to throw the sticks round the circle of players. At other times, instead of swinging or throwing them, they must be lowered until the lower end rests upon the floor, the song giving the cue for all these different motions. At other times the sticks are thrown across the circle, but always they must be caught by the proper person. It is quite interesting to watch. The players sometimes kneel instead of sitting at this game, and the former is probably the correct attitude.

The following is a ngari titi-touretua, or time-giving song or chaunt, sung by the players of the above game:—

Titi torea
Whakanoho ke te kupu o te karakia
Ko ana titapu hoki te kapu
Ko te ra to hoki ka riakina ki runga
Ka hakahaka ki raro, aue
Ara ra mai tahi, mai rua, mai toru
Mai wha, mai rima, mai ono
Mai whitu, mai waru, mai iwa
Mai ma ngahuru
E ka whakakopa ona perehina
Ki te huruhuru tipua—e
Koi heri, koi hera, maka titi, maka tata
He maka titi he mea
A ka turia te tara o Moetara
Te tara titi touretua.


This game is played with the hands alone. Either two or more persons play at it, the players sitting opposite to each other, and playing the game in pairs. A long series of words or short abrupt sentences is repeated by the players very quickly, and this alone is quite difficult in order to avoid making an error. At each signal-word or remark the hands are quickly moved, each time in a different manner. We give an example of this game below:—

First cry: “Matimati.” (The players here strike the closed hands together.)

Second cry: “Tahi matimati.” (The same action.)

Third cry: “Rua matimati.” (The hands opened, fingers apart, right thumb struck across left.)

Fourth cry: “Toru matimati.” (The right hand clenched and struck on open palm of left hand.)

Fifth cry: “Wha matimati.” The two hands open, brought together and fingers interlocked.)

Sixth cry: “Rima matimati.” (Thumb of right hand struck between first and second fingers of left hand.)

Seventh cry: “Ono matimati.” (Same as first movement.)

Eighth cry: “Whitu matimati.” (Same as No. 3.)

Ninth cry: “Waru matimati.” (Heel of hands struck together.)

Tenth cry: “Iwa matimati.” (Same as No. 1.)

Eleventh cry: “Piro matimati.” (The open right hand struck on back and front of open left hand.)

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The word “piro,” as used in games, means much the same as our word “out” as applied to game-players—Cf. “piroku,” v.i., go out; be extinguished.

The game of ti ringaringa is similar to the above, and is most amusing to watch.

Pakuru, or Pakakau.

This is merely a piece of wood, one end of which is placed between the teeth of the operator; the other is held in the left hand, while in the right is held a smaller stick, which is struck upon the other, and thus time is kept to the special songs sung. The pakuru is made of matai, mapara, or kai-whiria wood. It is about 15 in. in length, about 1½ in. wide at one end, and ¾ in. at the other. It is flat on one side and convex on the other. These were sometimes carved and sometimes plain, or with serrated edges. In former times many persons used to take part in this amusement. We give below two specimens of the rangi pakuru, or songs sung:—

Kiri pakapaka, kiri pakapaka
Kiko kore, kiko kore, kiki
Tau ka riri, ka riri
Tau ka rara, ka rara
Kai patuki, patu kahakaha
Hai kona turei ai tana niho, tana niho
Pakakau, pakakau, tu tahi, tu rua, tu toru,
Tu wha mai na ki to mate o te aitu
Tōtō poro kuri, poro kuri, poro tangata
Poro tokorua nga whakahaukanga
Kiki poro, ki poro, ki poro, ki poro kuri
Toro rororo, turi raukaha, kiki to.

A Rangi Pakuru.

Hara mai ana te riri i raro
I a Muri-whenua, i a Te Mahaia ra
Ehara ra teke pakupaku e ko
Kai te uru, kai te tonga
Kai te rakau pakeke—khi—aue!
Takoru te raho o Te Kete
I te ngaunga iho a ta Taiarorangi—ha!
Kai riri koe ki te waihotanga iho
O te parekura
Ko Maunga-tautari
Te tangata tirotiro mo te aha ra
Mo te hanga ra
E tatari tonu mai te hanga kiki to
Toro rororo, turi raukaha, kiki to.


The karetao, or keretao, known among Nga-puhi Tribe as “toko-raurape,” is a wooden figure in human form, often ornamented with carving, and the face thereof tattooed in the orthodox lines, the lines being blackened by the use of soot of

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the mapara wood, as in the tattooing of the human body. This figure is usually about 18 in. in length; a portion of the timber projects below the legs, in order to serve as a hand-hold. The arms are loose, being merely semi-attached to the figure by means of strings which pass through holes in the shoulders of the figure and are secured to the upper parts of the loose arms. The two strings are fastened together behind the figure. The operator held the figure in one hand by grasping the hand-hold base or projection. In the other he held the cord, which, being pulled taut, caused the arms of the figure to be gripped firmly to the shoulders, and were thus made to assume different positions, both in front or both extended backwards, or one extended in front and one behind. At the same time the arms were made to quiver as in a real haka à la Maori, the movement being imparted thereto by the hand of the operator. A specimen may be seen in the Auckland Museum. We give two oriori karetao, songs chaunted while putting the figure through its paces:—

Kohine, kohine
Tutara koikoi tara ra
Wheterotero koi arai ake
To marutuna, to maru wehi.

The following is an oriori karetao composed by Hokina for a karetao known as “Tukemata-o-rangi”:—

E rua aku mate, he kauwhau pakihore
Whakatau rawa atu te aro mai ki ahau
Pau te whakatau, he tangata rakau mai
Me whakahinga te whare a Pohe, a Uhia
Koinei kahu tai moana
Whakaeke i waho ra, he kahuhu waiarangi
Tapoto ki to ringa, me ko tahuna—e
Hei rakau a tungatunga turanga riri
A te koroua i te ao o te tonga
Hoki mai ki muri ra
Kia hoaia atu te maro o Tawhaki
…. i runga o Te Inaki
Tapuitia mai na taumata—e
…. ka pae roto Te Papuni
Ki te iwi ka ngaro
Na to tupuna ra, nana i oro i te whenua
E tama—e! Tenei ou tupuna kai te morehu noa
A mana e ui mai—e ahu ana ki hea?
Horo te ki atu—he mate ka tuatini no to papa
E moe tonu mai rara roto Waihau
Ma wai e whakaara te mea ka oti atu
E tama—e!

Tokere, or Bones.

These were made of matai or mapara wood, and were used in the same manner as with us, a pair in each hand. The same songs were used for the tokere as for the pakuru.

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Riddles; Guessing Games; Kai, or Panga.

These are simple. A person will take some small object and show it to his companions. He then brings his two hands together and draws both across his mouth. One is then allowed to guess where the object is. It may be in either hand or in the mouth. When one guesses aright he then becomes leader. Or the small object may be between two of his finger-tips, all being pressed together.

Kororohu, or Purorohu, or Porotiti.

This is a small, flat, and thin piece of wood, matai or mapara, about 3 in. long. Some are rounded at the ends, and some left square or brought to a point like a tipcat. Two holes are made near each other in the centre, and an endless string passes through same. By pulling the string in opposite directions the stick is twirled rapidly round in alternate directions, making at the same time a whizzing noise. The bights of the cord are placed over the thumbs of the operator. The following was sung while operating the kororohū:

A Ngari Porotiti (Kororohū).

Ka kukume, ka kukume au
I te tau o taku porotiti
Ki whakaawe ki Rangi-taiki
Ko Te Koha, ko Muru-takaka, ko Te Ahi-kai-ata
Ko te Koroki, ko Poututu, ko Te Au-tahae
Ka hoki mai te tau o taku porotiti
Hu-hu, wheo-wheo!

Purerehua, or Bull-roarer.

A thin, flat piece of matai wood, an elongated oval, 18 in. or more in length. A cord about 4 ft. long is attached to one end, the other end of the cord being fastened to a stick 3 ft. in length, which serves as a handle by which the operator swings the “roarer” round, causing it to make a loud whirring, booming sound. This noise is said to be made by the wairua (spirit) of the operator. A similar belief obtains among certain Australian tribes, who use these bull-roarers at certain rites and initiation ceremonies.


This has also been described to me as the name of a teetotum made from a piece of gourd-rind pared down and having a small sliver of wood stuck in the centre. It was twirled by this stem between the thumb and forefinger.

Whai, or Cat's Cradle.

The principal string game of the whare tapere of yore was the above, known in full as the “whai wawewawe a Maui.” It was a favourite amusement of young people, and the elders

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often took part in it. A great many different patterns obtained, some of them being most intricate and difficult to acquire. One pattern is known as “te waka-o-Tama-rereti,” and when made the following lines were repeated:—

Hoea te waka o Tama-rereti
Ki te take harakeke

Another pattern was termed the “Tiremiremi,” and when formed the parts were worked to and fro (me he tangata e ai ana) to the following words:—

E ai ana hoki, e pare he ana
Te waha o to kotore ki rau o te whenua
Ira to puta, te kainga o te ariki
Aua nene, aua rekareka.

Te whare-o-Takoreke, another design, is supposed to represent a house decorated with carvings, while te whare-totokau represents a plain house. Takoreke, above mentioned, was an ancestor of very remote times. He was the husband of Hine-te-iwaiwa, of immortal fame, she who invented the art of weaving, and who is looked upon as the mother and patroness of the ancient whare pora, or school of weaving.

Other designs in whai are: Te ahi i tunua ai te manawa o Nuku-tau-paroro, te ana o Karanga-hape or te ana i Taupo, te whakahua horopito, pae kohu, te tutira o Maui, te rara matai (represents a tree with branches), tu-nui-a-te-ika, te whare pora, komore, tama-a-roa, tamāhine, mouti, wiwirau, whare-puni, tonga-nui.

This game of whai is said to have been invented by Maui-pae, as well as the string game termed “pa-tokotoko.” The originator of tops is said to have been Maui-mua, while the tekateka is ascribed to Maui-tikitiki. Hence it would appear that the Maui family are well represented in the whare tapere.

Pa Tokotoko.

This is another string game. It is played by two persons. Each is provided with a piece of string with a loop at one end—a running noose. It is held between the thumb and forefinger of the right hand. The players make passes at each other's hands, each endeavouring to snare or catch the extended forefinger of his adversary in the loop of the string. Each player has seated beside him, or her, a female companion, termed the “ruahine.” When a player succeeds in snaring the finger of his opponent he quickly touches the hand of the latter with his own, and then turns and touches the hand of his own ruahine. This act transfers the ha (strength or dexterity) of his opponent to his ruahine, who really holds the skill or cleverness which he may display in

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the game. In regard to the term and office of the ruahine, this is an aping of more serious matters. In olden times a woman was usually employed, under priestly direction, in taking the tapu off a person or house, &c. This woman was termed a “ruahine.”

The taking or abstraction of the dexterity of one's opponent, as above described, is on the same lines of belief as the taking of the hau, or vital life principle of the human body, and thus causing the death of the individual. The ruahine could cure a person suffering from the evil effects of transgression of the laws of tapu, and was an extremely useful sort of person to have in camp.

Musical Instruments.

Several forms of nose and mouth flutes were manufactured in olden times from wood and bone. The former were termed “koauau” and the latter “pu-torino.” Young men or chiefs would amuse themselves of a summer evening by playing on these instruments as the people were assembled in the marae, or plaza, of the village. Chiefs at such a time would probably be seated on the tapurangi, a stage or platform erected in front of the house occupied by a chief. Songs were sung to the sound of these flutes. One such, a rangi pu-torino, is given in “Nga Moteatea,” at page 175.

Other instruments used were the bones and pakuru, already described. The pu-tatara are a sort of trumpet made from a sea-shell. They were sometimes carried by chiefs in olden times, who would use them to summon his people or to announce his approach to a village. The pu-kaea was a long wooden trumpet, about 6 ft. in length; it was used in war to assemble the fighting-men, or to give warning of an enemy's approach. A sort of imitation pu-kaea was made by children from leaves of the native flax wound in a spiral manner.

The pahu, or war-gong, was made by hollowing out a piece of matai wood. The ends, by which it was slung between two uprights on the watch-platform of a fort, were sometimes ornamented with carving. It was struck with a wooden mallet.

Korero Tara.

A favourite amusement during long winter evenings was the repeating of fables, folk-lore, and weird legends, the whole being included under the term of “korero tara,” or “pakiwaitara.” Some of these would be fables of olden times, handed down for centuries by succeeding generations. Such are the fables of the ant and the cicada, that of the lizard and the gurnard, and that concerning the Wai-kato and Rangi-taiki Rivers in their race for the sea; as also the wild legend

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anent the forming of the Whakatane and Wai-mana Valleys, and that describing the weird journey of Maunga-pohatu, Putauaki, and Kakara-mea Mountains from the south. We give a specimen of these fables:—

The Popokorua and the Kihikihi (the Ant and the Cicada).

The ant said to the locust, “Let us be diligent and collect much food during the summer-time, that we may retain life when the cold season comes.” “Not so,” said the locust; “rather let us ascend the trees and bask in the sun, on the warm bark thereof.” So the ant remained on the ground and worked exceeding hard, collecting and storing food for the winter. But the locust said, “This is a fine thing, to bask in the warm sun and enjoy life. How foolish is the ant that toils below.” But when winter arrived and the warmth went out of the sun, then the locust perished of cold and hunger. But the ant, how snug is he in his warm home underground, supplied with an abundance of food.

The Song of the Locust.

He pai aha koia taku pai
He noho noa, piri ake ki te peka o te rakau—e
E inaina noa ake ki te ra e whiti nei
Me te whakatangi kau i aku paihau—e
Hohoro mai, e te hoa,
Kauaka e whakaroa ara ra
Ka turua ta te popokorua
Rawe noa ta nga taki whakahau
Hau mai ki te keri i te rua
Mo te ua o te rangi me te makariri
Wero iho i te po nei—e
Me te kohi mai ano i te kakano—e
Hai o mo tamaroto
Kia ora ai—e.

often stories were improvised at these nightly meetings—simple, old-world tales of a primitive people, tales modelled on ancient prototypes of the past, tales of strange beings in human form who dwelt in lone forest depths and occasionally carried off women from the villages of man, and tales of daring voyagers of old who went down to unknown seas in their frail craft, and saw strange sights and strange people in far-off lands. I have often listened to such stories in the murky sleeping-houses of Tuhoeland.

Children's Games.

Upoko Titi.

This game is played by three or more children. Each player crooks the little finger over the next, that again over the next, and that over the forefinger. Both hands are

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served alike. One player then holds his right hand out with the forefinger pointing downwards. Another player places his right hand in a similar position, the end of the forefinger resting lightly on the back of the other player's hand, and so on, each player so placing his right hand. The first then places his left hand in like manner on the top hand, and so on until each player has both hands in the pile. The child whose hand is uppermost then repeats:—

Te upoko titi, te upoko tata
Ki te wai nui, ki te wai roa.
Whakatangihia te pupu
Haere ki to kainga!

As the reciter repeats the last word he lifts the topmost hand and thrusts it away. The owner of the said hand then holds it with the forefinger against his, or her, breast, and so on until all the players are standing with their hands pointing so to their breasts, the forefinger just touching same. The leader then asks, “Ma wai taku ihu e kai” (Who will eat my nose)? Another will reply, “Ma te atua” (The demon will). The leader repeats, “Waewae nunui, waewae roroa, pokia ki te ahi!” At the last word all the players cast down their hands with a motion as if throwing something down. The leader then asks, “Ma wai taku kanohi e kai?” and receives the same reply, all hands being again thrust downwards. And so on, naming each time some portion of the body, the final question being, “Ma wai taku tinana katoa e kai” (Who will eat my whole body)?


In this game each child closes the thumb and three fingers on the palm of the hand, leaving the forefinger projecting. All hands are then piled on each other as in the upoko titi, except that the forefinger points upwards. Then all the players repeat the following:—

Ka haere, ka haere a Para
Ki te wero kuku, ki te wero kaka
Ka tangi te tara koekoea.

At the last word of the jingle the players all snatch their hands away and place them behind their backs, but as they do so they endeavour to strike or touch the hand of another player. Any player so touched is out of the game.

Hapi Tawa.

Two or more play at this. Child No. 1 places his, or her, open hands together, with the palms pressed against each other and held out in front of the body. Child No. 2 draws

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his hands over those of No. 1—i.e., stroking the back of them towards himself, and repeating this:—

Hukea, hukea,
Te hapi papaku
Ma to kuia
Ma Whare-rau-roa.
Kia hoki mai
I te kohi tawa
Kinikini raupaka
Te hoia to taringa
He hapi kumara
He hapi taro
He hapi kereru
He hapi Koko
He hapi kaka.

Child No. 1 asks, “Na wai koe i tono mai?

Child No. 2 replies, “Na Pitau.”

Child No. 1 asks, “Pitau whea?

Child No. 2 replies, “Pitau toro.”

Child No. 1 asks, “Toro hea?

Child No. 2 replies, “Toro tai.”

Child No. 1 asks, “Tai whea?

Child No. 2 replies, “Tai matua.”

Child No. 1 asks, “Matua wera?

Child No. 2 replies, “I te ahi.”

Child No. 1 asks, “Pi koko?

Child No. 2 asks, “Me aha koia?

Child No. 1 replies either “Me whakaora” or “Me patu.”

Should the first of these replies, meaning “Spare him,” be given by No. 1, he will receive a light box on the ear. Should the second answer, meaning “Strike him,” be given, he will then be spared the blow.

Child No. 2 then takes the hands of No. 1, which are still pressed together, and bends the two thumbs away from the fingers, saying, “He hapi kumara.” He then pushes the two forefingers over against the thumbs, saying, “He hapi taro.” And so on until all the pairs of fingers are pushed over and are thus close together again. No. 1 then opens his hands in cup form, into which No. 2 darts an extended thumb and forefinger, as if hastily picking something out of the hollowed hands. Meanwhile No. 1 tries to catch the hand of No. 2 as it is thus darted. When so caught the game is ended.


In this game a string is used, one end of which is held in the mouth of one of the players, who are seated in double lines facing each other. The string passes down between the two lines, and each player on either side grasps it with both hands, thus the string is hidden from sight. The game lies in guessing where the free end of the string is, and in carefully

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concealing the same. Sometimes the player who holds the end in his mouth will draw in the string until he has it all concealed in his mouth, but the hands of the others are kept in position as though still grasping it. This is baffling to the guesser. The following ngeri, or chaunt, is recited during the game:—

Kura, kura
Kura winiwini, kura wanawana
Te whaia taku kai nei
Ki te kai patiti, ki te kai patata.
Ka rawe taua ki hea?
Ka rawe taua ki pahu nui, ki pahu roa
Hai tako titi, hai tako tata
Haere pakiaka
To reti kai whea.

Tatau Tangata.

The children form in a circle and one repeats the following doggerel. It is repeated in a jerky manner, as shown by the placing of the commas, and at each of the latter the reciter points his forefinger at one of the ring of children, and keeps on thus round the circle. The player at whom he points at the final word falls out, and so on until only one remains, who is said to have won:—

Tokotahi, tokorua, e ka, kurupatu,
Te oia, te kotiti, te kowhewhe, i waiho, i reira,
E whewhe, tikina, toetoea, he karaka,
Hai wero, mo to, iwi, tuarua, taro, pahaha,
Ki runga, i te karaka, toro, pahaha,
Te mea ao, to whaea, koro houa.

Tatai Whetu, or Tatau Manawa.

The following doggerel was repeated by children, the object being to see who could go through it in one breath. But it was also used as a tatai whetu. The latter was a singular act performed in former times in order to kill a frost—i.e., to stop a frost and cause the night to become warm, thus saving the crops. A person would take a firebrand and proceed to the urinal of the settlement, where he would walk round, waving the firebrand so as to light up the ground. Then, throwing the firestick away, he would face to the east and repeat the following two effusions, holding his right arm up, and with index-finger point from one star to another as he kept repeating his jerky lines, as a person does when counting a number of objects:—

Katahi, ka ri, ka wara, ka tikoki,
Manu ki, manu ka toro, kai o, tungongo,
Kai te, koata, raua riki, tara-kaina, e hi,
Tarera, e tika, ra waho, tikina,
Kapohia, te arero, o te rangi,
Wiwi, wawa, heke, heke,
Te manu ki, ki taikeha.

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A Tatai Whetu.

Katahi ti, ka rua ti, ka hara mai, te pati tore,
Ka rauna, ka rauna, ka noho, te kiwikiwi
He po, he wai takitaki, no pi, no pa,
Ka huia, mai, kai ana, te whetu,
Kai ana, te marama,
Ko te tio, e rere, ra runga, ra te pekapeka, kotore,
Wiwi, wawa, heke, heke,
Te manu, ki o, tau, tihe.

Outdoor Games.

Not but what the foregoing games, &c., were not played out-of-doors, but what we propose to deal with now are the special outdoor games, &c.


This is similar to one of our own boys' games. A circle, known as the “wi,” is formed on the ground, and the players stand round it. The base or wi keeper then recites the following tatau tangata in the jerky manner and with the same actions as described above:—

Pika, pika, pere rika,
Papa rangi,
He, hi, rate, mai,
Hau, haunga, te, hati, mai, putu,
Piki, piki.

On repeating the last word of the above the child at whom the reciter's finger then points drops out, and so on until but one is left, who then becomes base-keeper. The children then endeavour to enter the wi, or base, without being touched by the base-keeper, whose business it is to defend it. Should any be touched before entering the wi they must then assist the base-keeper in defending it. Those who succeed in entering the circle without being touched are said to have won. A base-keeper will sometimes pursue players in order to tag them. The term “piro” is applied to those who enter the base untouched (kua piro a mea).


The ancient Maori tops were of two kinds—the potaka ta, or whip-top, and the potaka takiri, or humming-top. As already stated, the top is said to have been invented by Maui.

The whip-top was similar to that used by us in the days of our youth, and was whipped in the same manner, the whip being made from the fibre of the native flax. These tops had sometimes small pieces of sea-shell* inserted, countersunk in the wood, which shells would, of course, form apparent circles

[Footnote] * Either a white shell or the shell of the pāuă (Haliotis, mother of pearl, the abalone of the Californian coast) was used. The whip was termed a “kare.”

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as the top whirled round. Small hurdles were sometimes erected, over which the tops were whipped. The potaka whero rua was a double-ended whip-top, pointed at both ends, and was made to turn ends by means of the whip. Tops were made of matai, mapara, or totara wood. “Kaihōtăa” is given in Williams's dictionary as meaning “a whipping-top,” but that term is not used among Tuhoe.

Some of the humming-tops were made of wood, and were solid like the whip-top.* Both were of the same form, save that the whip-top was flat on the top, while the humming-top had a piece of wood projecting from the top vertically, in order to receive the string. This upright piece would be part of the original piece of timber from which the top was made, and was not an inserted piece. The body of the humming-top was also larger and longer than that of the whip-top, and was a solid piece of wood.

The word “potaka” means a top. “Ta” is to beat, hence the name applied to a whip-top. “Takiri” means “to loosen; to draw away suddenly; to start or fly back, as a spring,” &c. As applied to the humming-top, the word refers to the mode in which the top is set up by the operator.

The string used for the humming-top was a thin, strong cord made from fibre of the native flax, the kind of cord known as “karure,” which is made by twisting together two miro, or twisted threads of fibre. This string is wound round the piece of wood projecting from the head of the top. The handle or hand-hold by which a purchase is gained is a small, flat piece of wood, and is known as the “papa takiri.” It is not slipped over the upright projection of the top as with us, but is held against the side thereof. This papa is about 6 in. in length and ½ in. in width.

In former times children liked to see their tops “asleep” when spun. To describe this state the term “newha,” or “anewhanewha,” or “tunewha” is used. In the following effusion, which is a kai-oraora, composed by one Te Horo in revenge for the death of his son Pohokorua, these terms are evidently used as meaning “dazed by grief.”

A Tangi Kai-oraora.

Pinohia ki te kowhatu
Ka korowhiwhitia ake tona roro
Ote tohunga nana nei au
Koi huna ki te po
Ui mai koia—he aha te rawa?
He manawa whiti, he manawa rere,
He manawa kapakapa
Ka noho kai a te ihu.

[Footnote] * Not that the solid tops hummed much, but I have no other name for them. They were spun as we spin humming-tops. The gourd tops made a loud humming noise.

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Whiti Tuarua.

E kui ma! Kia ata tono mai ki ahau
Kaore raia he iwi tu atu ki runga ra
E taia ana au e te mate
Kai te potaka tu-newhanewha,
Ka taia, ka haere, ka anewhanewha.

Humming-tops were also made of a small hue, or gourd, through which a stick was thrust and both ends thereof left projecting, the lower one to serve as a spinning-point and the upper one to wind the string on. A hole was made at one side of the gourd, which caused a humming, wailing sound when the top was spinning. This was the true humming-top; the name was used by myself to denote the wooden potaka takiri for want of a better term.

These gourd humming-tops entered into a very singular custom among the denizens of Tuhoeland and adjacent peoples. They were used in order to avenge death, in the same manner that the wailing of a lament or dirge, with weeping, was said to avenge the stroke of death. This is a world-old idea, a relic of universal personification of all natural events, &c. As the men of old said, “Ko roimata, ko hupe, anake nga kai utu i nga patu a aitua” (By tears and grief only may the strokes of misfortune be avenged).

Humming-tops were spun that the wailing sound thereof might accompany the lament for the dead chaunted by the people after a defeat in battle. The humming of the tops, of which many were used, resembled and represented the murmuring wail of the mourning widows. Appropriate songs or chaunts, termed “whakaoriori potaka,” were composed for such occasions, and were chaunted as the tops were spinning.

When after they had been defeated in battle a party of people came to condole with them, they all assembled in the plaza of the village to receive them, and there was chaunted the lament for the dead. And as the lament was sung the wailing tops were spun—hai ranaki i te mate—as an avenging of the defeat. The tops were spun at a given word at the conclusion of each whiti, or verse, of the song. After this performance was over the tops, together with presents of clothing, &c., would be handed over to the visitors.

Many of the people would be provided with tops for this performance. This custom was revived after the defeat at Orakau. The following whakaoriori potaka was thus sung in many a native village after the defeat of Ngati-porou and Te Whakatohea on the field of Maketu:—

Kumea! Toi te roroa o te tangata—e
Ina noa te poto ki te oma i Hunuhunu—e
Hai! Tukua!

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Na (nga) morehu, ma te kai e patu—e
Ko te paku kai ra mau, E Te Arawa—E!
Hai! Tukua!
E ki atu ana Karanama, e noho ki tamaiti nei—e
Takiri ana mai te upoko o te toa—e
Hai! Tukua!
Koro Mokena, huri mai ki te Kuini—e
Koi rawerawe ana ou mea kanu kaka—e
Hai! Tukua!
Na Tamehana ano tona whenua i utu
Ki te maramara taro—e
Waiho te raru ki to wahine—e
Hai! Tukua!

At the word “Tukua” all the tops are set spinning. When the tops fall then another verse is commenced, and the tops are wound up again ready for the next signal-word.


Kite-flying was a favourite amusement in the days of old, but, like most other old-time amusements of the Maori, has long been abandoned. Kites were termed “manu,” the same word meaning “bird,” and were made to resemble a bird in form, with long outstretched wings. The best kites were made of the bark of the aute shrub, or paper-mulberry. Inferior ones were made of upoko-tangata, a coarse sedge or swamp-grass, or of the leaves of the raupo, a bulrush. These kites were very neatly made, the material being fastened to a light frame. Long tails or streamers, termed “puhihi,” were suspended from the wings (paihau) and tail (waero) of the kite. Kites made of raupo do not rise well, but sag from side to side. Sometimes shells were attached to the kites, and when flying, should the cord be held, the oscillation would cause the shells to rattle in a manner presumably pleasant to the Maori ear. Shells of the kakahi, or fresh-water mussel, were used for this purpose, evidently on account of their lightness. Adults used to indulge in kite-flying. The kites of children were generally the inferior ones made of raupo.

“In the days of old our people would weave kites, and the wings and body thereof would be covered with aute, hence the name ‘manu aute.’ Horns or points would be fastened to the head of the kite. The cord would be secured by which the kite is let out. When the wind rose the people would go a kite-flying (whakaangi manu), and many would gather to look on. An expert person would be selected to cast off the kite that it might rise, and, if a large kite, he would have to be careful lest the thing swoop down and he be struck by the points thereof. When the kite rose it would soar away like a bird, and the cord would be paid out as it ascended. Then the karakia would be repeated.

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“A Kaiakia Whakaangi Manu (a Kite-flying Charm).

Piki mai, piki mai,
Te mata tihi o te rangi
To mata taha o te rangi
Ko koe, kai whaunumia e koe
Ki te kawe tuawhitu, ki te kawe tuawaru
Tahi to nuku, tahi te rangi
Ko te kawa i hea?
Ko te kawa i Taumata-ruhiruhi
Te takina mai taku manu nei
Ka piki.

“Then a round object, a disc, would be sent up the cord, along which it would travel. It was to take water to the kite, and show that the kite had reached the heavens. And it would reach the kite, although the latter might be so distant as to be out of sight. Then the cord would be drawn in, and finally the kite be recovered. And on being looked at it would be found quite wet. A peculiar wetness this which clings to the kite. It is not like the water which flows here below; it is like dew, or the misty wet which settles upon the high ranges.” A reference to the above messenger sent up the cord of a kite may be noted in Mr. White's Lectures, page 176.

Teka, or Neti.

This was a favourite pastime of olden times, and quite a game of skill. It was Maui-tikitiki who invented the game of teka. He expectorated upon his dart and repeated this charm:—

Taku teka, tau e kai ai he tangata
Haere i tua o nga maunga
Me kai koe ki te tangata
Whiwhia, rawea.

Then Maui threw his dart, which flew apace and stuck in the jaw of an old man who was sitting in the entrance of the house known as Tane-kapua. The old man's jaw dropped off. Maui arriving, said, “Old man, your jaw has dropped off.” The old man nodded. Maui said, “I will take your jawbone with me.” That old man was Muri-ranga-whenua, the grandfather of Maui. That jawbone was the hook by which this land was caught and dragged from the ocean depths. The fish caught with that hook was Papa-tuanuku (Mother Earth) herself. The hook may still be seen at Heretaunga.

But about the teka. It is a dart, usually made of a stalk of the fern rarauhe, about 3 ft. in length, the after-end bound round with a piece of flax. This dart is thrown so as to glance off the surface of a small mound of earth, which is cleared of weeds and made smooth. The thrower stands a little way behind the mound and holds the dart (teka) by the rear end, between thumb and second finger; the forefinger is on the end of the dart, to propel it. The dart was thrown

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underhand, so as to glance off (pahu) the smooth top of the mound. Each player casts his dart in turn, and he whose dart is cast the greatest distance wins the round. When a player wins his first round he cries, “Katahi ki rua.” On gaining his second round he says, “Ka rua ki toru.” At the third, “Ka toru ki wha,” and so on; thus each player keeps his own tally. The first to win ten rounds wins the game. The cry of a player for the ninth round won is, “Ka iwa ki ngahere,” the expression “ngahere” being here used for “ngahuru” (ten). The cry at the tenth round won is “Kapiro.”

Each player, as he proceeds to cast his teka, would repeat the following charm to render his cast effective:—

Patu atu taku pehu ki mua
Me he matakokiri anewa i te rangi
Te rokohina ko te teka na Tuhuruhuru
Kia tika tonu te haere
Mau e piki atu, mau e heke atu
I tua o nga pae maunga
Toroi e taku pehu
Ko te pehu, ko te koke
Marie kia tika.

The Topa, or Koke.

The topa is an amusement of children. A broad, sound leaf of the wharangi shrub is plucked, and into the stem of the midrib (tuaka) thereof is inserted the thick end of a culm of karetu grass. The caster, standing on an eminence, holds the top of the leaf between thumb and two fingers, and on casting the leaf forth horizontally it will sail on for some distance, and even ascend, before descending to the ground. The descent of the leaf is very gradual, it being balanced by the grass culm. A child would repeat the following charm to cause the leaf to make a long flight:—

Topaina atu ra taku topa nei
Ki tai nui, ki tai roa
Koki, kokere, whai
Tohia nuku, tohia rangi
To kai, topa rere
Ki o rua whangai.

These leaves are sometimes thus cast across a river of considerable width.

Pirori (Hoops).

The hoop is an old-time Maori toy. They were made of a tough forest creeper known as aka tea, the join being neatly bound with a lashing of flax-fibre. They were 18 in. or 2 ft. in diameter. Players stood opposite each other on either side of the marae, or plaza, and each held a short stick in his hand. The hoop was not trundled as with us, but was thrown so as

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to roll across to the opposite player, who would strike it with his stick in order to drive it back to No. 1; but he would not follow it up. Should the hoop not run true, but wobble in its passage, that is termed a “tiko-rohe-tu.”

At page 58, vol. v., of White's “Ancient History of the Maori” is an account of how a certain old-time gentleman, having slain a much-hated enemy, did thereupon flay the same and proceed to stretch his skin upon a hoop, with which he, together with other chivalrous warriors of that ilk, amused themselves, after the manner of their kind, by trundling the aforesaid hoop and belabouring it unmercifully with cudgels.

Hoops were sometimes thrown so as to rebound from the earth and jump over high hurdles.


This was a kind of toboggan, and was used on a steep bank or hillside, on which a slide would be prepared and made slippery by pouring water upon it. The reti, or toboggan, was a flat piece of wood about 2½ ft. in length and 4 in. or 5 in. in width, square at the rear end and pointed in front, the nose being also “sniped,” so as not to catch in the ground, and thus leave the “riding side” of the reti free. Two projections were left on the top side for the rider's feet to press against, one foot being placed behind the other. Such was the toboggan, or papa reti. The slide was known as retireti. “Papa reti” is a term applied to an epidemic of sickness wherefrom many die.

Pou-toti, or Stilts.

Stilt-walking was a pastime of the young people. The stilts were often made with foot-rests 3 ft. from the ground. Mimic battles were waged by stilt-walkers, who tried to overthrow each other, the result being numerous and sometimes severe falls.


Another amusement over which Takataka-putea presides is the moari, or morere, a peculiar swing. The Maori had no swing with a seat such as we use. The moari was, if possible, erected over a deep pool in a stream or river, or on the shore of a lake. A tall sapling was set up inclining somewhat over the water. On the top of the pole a loose cap of timber was fitted, to which the ends of long cords or ropes were fastened, the ropes trailing down for the players to swing by. As the players hung on to the ropes and swung round the pole the wooden cap thereon revolved, so that the ropes did not twist round the pole. In the case of those set up over water, the swingers would grasp the ropes with both hands

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and gain momentum by running round the pole on the land side, and then swing off the edge of the bank out over the water, where they would release their hold of the rope and drop feet first into the water below, which same is the Maori form of diving (ruku). This form of diving is done from a height of 40 ft. or 50 ft. sometimes. At some places a running jump is taken from a steep bank into a river or lake, or a pole is secured in a horizontal position over the water, from which the jump is taken. At others, again, a tree growing on a cliff and leaning out over the water is used in a like manner. Such an one is a rata-tree just above the Pari-kino Settlement, on the Whanga-nui River, and from which the jump is some 30 ft. or 40 ft. Some time back a woman was there killed by falling flat on the water, instead of entering the same feet first in the proper manner. It is surprising to see what heights very small children will jump from.

At settlements where water was not available for jumping into, the moari was erected at any suitable place near by, where it was used as a sort of revolving swing. One such formerly stood at the Ngati-tawhaki village of Kiritahi, at Rua-tahuna, and was known as Tama-tē-ngaro. Another stood near Māna-tē-pa, a fortified village on the Mana-o-rongo Creek, near Tatahoata. The latter one was named Tara-kai-korukoru. Each of these swings had eight cords. A singular story is attached to these two swings. When my informant had told me of them, he added, “They were erected in order to avenge those of Ngati-tawhaki who were slain at Mānă-tē-pa.” This caused me to make inquiries, believing that I was about to lift the trail of some quaint, barbarous custom. I had heard of the inter-hapu unpleasantness at that fort, where Te Ure-wera clan had slain three of Ngati-tawhaki, but the swings were new.

“Ngati-tawhaki had fallen before the volley of Te Urewera. Then our assailants migrated to Rua-toki, lest evil befall them. Our people were much troubled over the matter. Then the thought grew: We would avenge that disaster. Tu-kai-rangi, of Tawhaki, rose and caused to be erected those two moari. Tama-tē-ngaro was erected just by the cherry grove yonder, and Tara-kai-korukoru was set up by yon kahika-trees on the terrace. Then a song was composed, to be sung by the performers when swinging. And this should be our revenge for the death of our men at Māna-tā-pa. No! of course, it was not an actual revenge or equivalent for our loss, but it was to dispel the grief and fretting over the death of our friends; hence it was termed an avenging of their deaths—“Hai whakangaro i te rawakiwaki mo nga mea i mate, koia i kiia ai he takitaki mate.” Here is the song. The eight ropes of the moari would be

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manned, and all the performers and onlookers would sing the first verse (whiti). At the last word thereof they would swing off and fly round the pole. When they stopped the second verse would be sung, and the performers swing off again.”

Whiti 1.

Hangaa he moari
Kia rere au i te taura whakawaho*
Kai te pehi hiri whakamau
Na wai takahia.

Whiti 2.

Taku aroha kia Te Haraki—e
Nga whaiaipo a te hiri whakamau
Na wai takahia.

Whiti 3.

He taura ti—e. He taura harakeke
Nga taura o te hiri whakamau
Na wai takahia.

A famous moari used to stand at Kirikiri, on the shore of Waikare-moana.

Pendent aka, or forest creepers, were often used as swings, and from the swing of them the players would gain impetus for a flying trip through the air to Mother Earth. These were termed “tarere,” or “himorimori.” A cross-piece of wood was sometimes lashed on to the aka to serve as a seat.

The kai-rerere, or long jump, was another form of amusement. Te Kai-rerenga-a-te-Rangi-houhiri is the name of a crossing-place of the Whakatane River where, in former times, travellers used to cross by jumping from one stone to another, a feat at which Mr. Rangi-houhiri excelled all others, hence the name.

Piu (Skipping).

A long cord was used, a child being stationed at either end to swing same. Several players would skip at the same time. As the game commenced the cord-swingers would chaunt. “E piu—e! Ka taha te ra ki te rua.”


The term “pioi” was applied to the seesaw, a pole balanced across a log, as our own children play; and also the name was applied to a limber branch, usually of a fallen tree, and which players would bestride and cause to swing up and down.

Concerning the pioi, let me tell you an anecdote. In the days when Ngati-mahanga, of Te Whaiti, they who slew the Drooping Plume and erstwhile went down to Hades before

[Footnote] * The outer cord is the most difficult to manipulate.

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the stabbing spears of Tuhoe—when the Children of Mahanga, I say, were sore beset by the Hine-uru clan of Tarawera they bethought them of applying to their overlord for armed assistance. A band of Tuhoean mountaineers therefore marched to the Wairoa Fort, on the Upper Whirinaki. On their arrival, however, instead of having food presented to them, as is usual in such cases, a great nothingness prevailed, and no refreshments were forthcoming. Then the heart of the Child of Tamatea became sad within him, for Tuhoe, albeit famous warriors—as we ourselves discovered in later times at Orakau and elsewhere—are a most touchy people, and passing rich in dignity and sense of affront. They therefore, with intent and malice aforethought, and doubtless being possessed of the divine afflatus, did proceed to compose a most virulent ngeri, or jeering-song, as a scathing rebuke to their churlish hosts. Hard by the fort of Te Wairoa was a famous pioi, a swinging tree-branch of great length and elasticity. On this branch the Children of the Mist ranged themselves, and, swinging high to the spring of the weighted branch, roared forth their incisive song of derision. After which, their anger and hunger being still unappeased, and possibly annoyed at the “innocuous desuetude” of the Sons of Mahanga, they fell upon them, smiting them hip and thigh, with the result that several of them were soon killed, cooked, and eaten.

The above is not necessarily a form of amusement or pertaining to the whare tapere, nor do I know that Takatakaputea and Co. would countenance such acts. It is merely inserted here as a quiet hint to any luckless wights who may find themselves neglected by their hosts.


Foot-races over long distances were sometimes arranged. A certain place would be agreed upon, where, as soon as one of the runners arrived, he would leave or make some mark, on a tree or elsewhere; and this mark would be pointed out with pride by his descendants. A foot-race of this kind took place from Te Whaiti to Te Teko, a distance of nearly fifty miles.

Sling (Kotaha).

I am informed that slings made of flax-fibre, used for slinging stones in play, were formerly used, and were termed kotaha. I am not clear that they were used prior to the advent of Europeans. The term “kotaha” was also applied to the whip used in casting the spear known as a “tarerarera,” which was so cast into besieged places.

The kakere was an amusement of children, sticking some

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object on a stick and “flirting” it off, to see how far it could thus be cast.

Ripi (Ducks and Drake).

Same as with us, the skimming of flat stones along the surface of water. The name is also applied to the throwing of flat, rounded pieces of bark upwards. This would be done near a tree, to enable the children to see which player flung the highest.

Bow and Arrow.

The Maori of New Zealand are true Polynesians in their non-use of the bow and arrow. It was never used by the Maori in war. Some natives here assert that the bow and arrow were used as toys in olden days, but I have met with nothing in tradition or song to support the assertion. The word given me for “arrow” is “kopere,” a term applied to the sling or whip by which spears are thrown.* The term given me for “bow” is “whana,” which would be applied to anything curved or bow-shaped. I am told that a bow of supplejack was used by children, with an arrow made of a fernstalk, the rear end of which was bound with string, and the head was furnished with a point of katote, the hard black fibres of the kaponga, or fern-tree. It is said to have been used for killing birds. Personally I have no faith in the bow and arrow being used in pre-pakeha days.

In the first place, the games and toys, implements, weapons, &c., that were used in ancient times are mentioned in many historical traditions, legends, stories, songs, &c. In none of these have I ever noted any allusion to the bow and arrow. Certainly the term “pere,” meaning “a dart,” is met with, but it refers to the spear thrown with a whip. Other tribes may have had some knowledge of the implement in former times, but I do not believe that Tuhoe had. In the second place, many European words, implements, foods, and arts reached the remote inland tribes long before such peoples were brought into contact with white men. Hence they often assert that some art, or vegetable, or English expression was known before the arrival of Europeans, whereas it was not, but filtered through other tribes before Europeans were known in the interior.

Taupunipuni was a game like our “hide and seek,” played by children.

Poro-teteke was a boy's amusement of walking on the hands with feet in the air.

It is most amusing to note small children playing—the peculiar things they do and say. You may see two mites

[Footnote] * Probably also to the spear so thrown.

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sitting gravely opposite each other, each one trying to make the other laugh. One will take the other by the hand and then draw its other hand down the arm, repeating, “Pakipaki te whatitiri, No—e ! No—e !” until one of them is fain to laugh.

I have heard children repeating the genealogies of the village dogs in true orthodox style, learned while listening to the recital of tribal genealogies in the sleeping-houses.

Small girls will play at imitating the labours of their mothers, and will make little steam-ovens and collect and earth over potatoes in true koputu style, or carry appalling swags of firewood weighing several pounds.


The para-whakawai may be termed a “school of arms.” It is applied to meetings of young men on the plaza of the village for the purpose of acquiring and practising the use of weapons, such practising being known as whakahorohoro rakau.” Such practice, or trial of arms, is carried on under the eyes of veteran warriors, who are known as “Ika-a-whiro.” Here the young Maori learned to use the arms of old—to guard, parry, thrust, and strike. Wrestling was also indulged in, and women used sometimes to join in this—probably two women opposed to one man. Some of the women were famous wrestlers.

Whatoto (Wrestling).

This was a common amusement among young men, and much interest was displayed when two noted wrestlers were pitted against each other. My notes under this head are, however, meagre in the extreme. The various holds or grips were termed “awhiawhi,” “uru-tomo,” “tăhă,” “whiri,” and “whiu.” The rou was the thrusting of the leg between those of the opponent in order to throw him.

When a man was about to engage in a wrestling bout he would expectorate into his hand, which he would then close and repeat the following charm (karakia) to strengthen him:—

Taku uaua ko te rangi e tu nei
Taku uaua ko papa e takoto nei
Whiri kaha, toro kaha te uaua.

Then, opening his hand, he repeats a second charm to weaken his enemy and render him powerless:—

Te umu a te ruhi, a te ngenge
A te paro (?) a tineia kia mate
Te umu tuku tonu te ika ki te Po
Te umu tuku tonu, heke tonu te ika ki te Reinga
Ka mui te rango, totoro te iro
Kaki whatiia.

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This latter charm or spell is known as “tuaumu,” and belongs to the art of makutu, or witchcraft.

The Game of Ruru.

In this game five stones are used. They are round (potakataka) and symmetrical; often they were chipped into the desired form by means of striking them with a piece of quartz, as flakes are struck off a flint core. Old men often amused themselves by making them, as well as other toys, &c., as playthings for children, and even for elders, inasmuch as the elderly people often entered into this and other games. of these stones one was marked and styled the “hai”; it was the principal one used for throwing, and was looked upon as the leader of the game. The other four stones were termed the “kai-mahi,” or common ones.

As many as ten players would sometimes take part in this game. First the operator would take the five stones in his right hand and throw them up; then quickly reversing his hand he would catch on the back of it as many as possible of the descending stones. Some will thus be caught and some will tall on the ground, where they are allowed to lie for the present. The hai is then taken in the right hand and thrown up. While it is in the air the player snatches up one of the fallen stones with the right hand and, holding it, catches the descending hai with the same hand. This is continued until all the fallen stones are picked up. This is termed “takitahi.”

In the takirua the same process is gone through, save that two of the stones are snatched up at once.

In the taktoru, or third stage, it is the same process again, but three stones must be snatched up before catching the hai.

And in the takiwha four stones must be so snatched up. The next stage in the game is termed “poipoi.” In this a mark is made on the ground—a straight line—on either side of which one stone is laid, these two and the hai being the only ones used. The hai is taken in the right hand and thrown up; then with the same hand one of the stones by the mark—the one on the right side—is taken and thrown up; then the descending hai is caught and thrown up again with the right hand; then the other descending stone is caught with the left hand and thrown up again. The remaining stone on the ground is thrown up by the left hand and caught with the right, and so on.

The next act is termed “kŏrŏpu.” A small circle is marked on the ground, around the outside of which are ranged the hai and three of the other stones. The hai is taken in the right hand and thrown up, and before it descends the same hand must move the other three stones into the centre

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of the circle, where they must be arranged so as to touch each other; the right hand then darts back to catch the descending hai, which it again throws up, and the right hand snatches up the three stones on the ground and then catches among them the descending hai, thus the right hand now holds all four stones. All motions of the koropu are performed by the right hand.

The final performance is the ruru. Three stones are laid on the ground; the hai is thrown up, then another stone is snatched and thrown up, then the descending hai is caught and thrown up again, then another stone is clutched from the ground and cast up, then the second stone is caught and thrown up again, then the hai, and so on until all the four are in use. But the hai must always be caught in the right hand and the other stones in the left.

When the common stones are lying on the ground together they touch each other, and the operator must be very careful in taking one away to throw up, for if he causes the other stone or stones to move in so doing, then he falls out of the game and another operator takes his place. It is quite a trial for the eye and hand to watch the descending stones so as not to miss catching same, and at the same time to take up one of the stones on the ground without causing any of the others which are in contact with it to move.

“When other villages hear that we are adepts at this game they will send a party over to challenge us to a game, and then interest runs high. Young men would always be eager to excel in games of all kinds, because they would then be admired by the girls.”

The term “rehia,” mentioned above, is now practically obsolete, and must be sought for in song and tradition. It is met with in Mr. White's volumes, and also occurs in the following:—

A Lament composed by Te Hou (Part only).

Ka riro i aku tamariki
Kai te rehia, kai te harakoa kari hika
Ko au anake i mahue uei
Hai tiaki pa ki Hiwarau ra
He kebo koia e te ngutu poto
E whakaheke ra e te oi kau
Kei parea ki O-tarana
Kei mapu noa mai e tohe.

The seeker after the lore of the whare tapere will find some notes on the subject in the Rev. R. Taylor's “Te Ika a Maui.”

Kati.—We will now cease, inasmuch as we have exhausted our stock of notes anent the diversions of the whare tapere, as obtained from the denizens of Tuhoeland. It remains for the compilers of the future to pick up the broken threads and

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evolve a more complete description of the games and amusements of old.
* * * * *

The gleaming row of fires within the whare tapere have burned low down, the Children of Toi have dispersed, as we pass out again into the morn of the twentieth century, while the sliding-door closes behind us on the whare tapere for ever.

Art. V.—Maori Magic: Notes upon Witchcraft, Magic Rites, and various Superstitions as practised or believed in by the Old-time Maori.

[Read before the Auckland Institute, 7th October, 1901.]

To the Maori of past days there were practically but three causes of death, as follows: (1) Mate taua, or death on the battlefield; (2) mate aitu, or mate tara whare, death from sickness—i.e., a natural death; (3) mate whaiwhaiā, or death caused by witchcraft.

Deaths from makutu, or witchcraft, were, according to Maori ideas, exceedingly numerous in the days of yore, and still occur even in these times of the pakeha. Such deaths need not be the result of an active force, as in themātāai, the rua-iti, &c., to be hereinafter described, but may also be brought about by what might be termed a semi-passive or a semi-active medium, which is not dangerous to life until it be interfered with. of such a nature are the waro rahui, rongotakawhiu, pa, and trees or places endowed with tapu in order to prevent persons interfering with them, &c.

There is also a third class or kind of makutu, or witchcraft, which is non-aggressive, and which is merely intended to ward off the magic spells of others, and protect the life, spirit, and physical and intellectual vigour of the performer. of such a nature are the rites of the mātāpuru, ahurewa, ngau-pae-pae, &c

Yet another variety is that which not only wards off and nullifies the effect of the magic spells of one's enemy, but also causes such spells to recoil on the performer thereof, and so destroy him or them. Such are the kai-ure and ahi-whakaene rites. These two latter varieties of magic are known by the generic terms of “ripa,” “parepare,” “momono,” “whiti,” and “whakataha.”

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After the above preamble I would wish to explain that the following notes on Maori magic comprise but a very small portion of the items of that extensive, far-reaching pseudoscience. For two reasons—first, such items, invading as they do all departments of Maori life, necessarily come under many headings, as “War,” “Birth,” “Marriage,” “Death,” “Woodcraft,” “Social Life,” “Sickness,” &c. Hence to give a description of all branches of magic would be to compile a practically complete account of Maori life, and would result in an article of such appalling length that it would probably be returned to me with or without thanks. (See Skeat's “Malay Magic” as an illustration, and the review thereof which appeared in the London Times.) The other reason is that I have already described many of the items in papers prepared on different subjects, that on “War” alone running to some 250 pages of foolscap. Again, practically the whole of these notes have been obtained from the Tuhoe or Urewera Tribe alone, and hence the article makes no pretence of being a compendium of the magic rites of the Maori of New Zealand as a whole. Rites, customs, and superstitions differ to a certain extent among the various tribes.

It was Bastian who defined magic as “the physics of mankind in a state of nature.” Moreover, it is quite clear to those who study the origin of religions, and also primitive cults, that the realm of magic must be invaded in either case in order to fully understand such cults and origins. Magic has ever been closely associated with religion. The Ark of the Covenant was the mauri of the Polynesian. The hirihiri of the Maori finds its counterpart in the bones or toe-nails of the mediæval gentlemen who struck work and declined to wash themselves. The tawhito and kai-ùre beliefs yet linger in European lands. Do not laugh at the magic of the Maori; our houses are yet partially of glass.

Belief in magic was formerly universal with the Maori, and is yet believed in to a very great extent. Tapu and makatu were practically the laws of Maoridom. Property, crops, fish, birds, &c., were protected by them. The old-time Maori had to carefully guard himself against magic rites, against infringing the laws of tapu, for a hair of his head, a shred of his clothing, a portion of the earth whereon he had left his footprint would, in the hands of an enemy, be sufficient to bring about his death. In every walk of life, during every action, whether eating, drinking, sleeping, or taking his walks abroad, whether among friends or foes, if no enemy were within a hundred miles, yet death ever attended the Maori and walked side by side with him, awaiting the opportunity to strike him down and despatch his spirit to the gloomy underworld—the Po, or realm of darkness, of oblivion.

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The ancient inhabitants of New Zealand are credited with having possessed the power of magic, as the story of Tama-o-hoi will show. This gentleman is also known as Te Mahoi-hoi, and is said to have been a past-master in magic—those forms of magic dangerous to life.

That strange person Tama-o-hoi was of the ancient people of this land. He was a descendant of Maui. His descendants are among the Maori people, and also the fairies who dwell upon the great ranges. Tama-o-hoi lived at Te Roto-iti, but his dwelling-place was underground.

There are three legends anent the feats of Tama-o-hoi or Te Mahoihoi: One occurred in the far-back period when mountains were gifted with the faculties of speech, locomotion, &c.; another just after the arrival of the canoe “Te Paepae-o-Rarotonga” from Hawaiki; and the third when “Te Arawa” canoe arrived.

In regard to the two names applied to our wizard, it is probable that Te Mahoihoi is the more correct, for this reason: This ancient personage is spoken of as an atua, or demon—a being possessed of supernatural powers. Now, in the Paumotu dialect “mahoi” means “a spirit”; in Tahitian “mahoi” means “the essence or soul of a god.” Among the New Zealand branch of the Polynesian race Te Tini-o-te-mahoihoi is a name applied to an apparently mythical people—spirits, elves, or fairies similar to Te Tini-o-te-hakuturi and Te Heketoro. Therefore Te Mahoihoi is probably correct.

In the days of yore the mountains grouped around Taupo Lake were very numerous. They lived together amicably for some time, but when Tongariro took unto himself two wives—Pihanga and Ngauruhoe (two mountains)—then dissensions arose, and the mountain family broke up, many leaving the district. Taranaki went to the west, and some went east, including Whakaari (White Island), Paepae-aotea (an islet off White Island), Mou-tohara (off Whakatane), Putauaki (Mount Edgecumbe), and Kakara-mea (Rainbow Hill, at Wai-o-tapu). Putauaki had two wives, Whatiura and Pohatu-roa (latter at Atiamuri).

Now, Rua-wahia (mountain) was coming along all the time. And there was a certain demon coming from the east. That demon was Te Mahoihoi. He was the person who had great knowledge of magic. The two met and quarrelled. Rua-wahia struck at Te Mahoihoi, who warded off the blow and struck back so stoutly that Rua-wahia was cleft in twain, as may be seen to this day. Look at Tarawera. Look at Ruawahia.

Such is the earliest feat of Te Mahoihoi on record. The name Tama-o-hoi we will drop. It appears to be used by the

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modern migration of the Maori, those whose ancestors came in “Te Arawa,” “Mātātua,” and other vessels. The former and correct term is used by the descendants of the ancient people of New Zealand—i.e., of the Bay of Plenty tribes, the descendants of the old-time peoples known as Te Hapu-one-one, Te Tini-o-toi, Te Kotore-o-hua, Nga-potiki, &c. These latter are the people who have preserved many ancient Polynesian words not found in our Maori dictionaries, but many of which may be found in the dialects of Paumotu, Tonga, Mangareva, Rarotonga, Nukuoro, &c.—more especially such sacerdotal terms as “mahoi,” “puri,” “tŭrŭma,” &c.

We give a genealogy from Tangotango to Te Mahoihoi, but have not secured the generations from the latter to the present time:—

We commence again. Rua-wahia is the mountain that was interfered with by Te Mahoihoi. That was before the vessels arrived (i.e., “Te Arawa,” “Mātātua,” &c., the modern fleet of the fourteenth century). Waitaha-ariki-kore had arrived. His vessel was “Te Paepae-ki-Rarotonga.” It came to land at Tara-o-muturangi, near Mătătā. Waitaha went to Rua-wahia, where he met Te Mahoihoi. The latter looked at Waitaha and saw that he was a stranger, whereupon he commenced his magic spells, in order to slay him. But Waitaha proceeded to avert the evil spell; he raised his incantation, it was the tawhito, the whakakuruki:

Whakataha ra koe
E te anewa o te rangi e tu nei
He tupua, he tawhito to makutu
Kei taku ure e patu nei
Na te tapu ihi, na te tapu mana
Takoto ki rato ki to kauwhau ariki
Kuruki whakatah
Tau e patu ai ko koe ano
Haere ki te Po uriuri
Mau ka oti atu, oti atu.

Then the eyes of Te Mahoihoi weakened (momohe), and he

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fled to Taupo, to Taranaki; hence the people of those parts are versed in the arts of magic.

In the above account are used some most singular expressions, which, when inquired into, lead us into various interesting channels of research. My aged informant said, “Te Mahoi-o-te-rangi, te tangata tena nana te makutu. He tama-tane tena mahi a te iwi Maori, e kore ia e kaha i te tama-wahine” (Te Mahoi-o-te-rangi was he who practised magic. That practice of the Maori people was a tama-tane—male child, or son; but it cannot contend against the tama-wahine—female child, or daughter). Here “tama-tane” seems to be a term applied to witchcraft, active magic, while the expression “tama-wahine” denotes defensive magic. I have nearly one hundred notes collected on these two expressions, and they appear to be applied to everything in the heavens, on earth, and the waters under the earth. It would take up too much space to go fully into the matter here. Tama-wahine is applied to the west, sometimes to the north, and to the ruahine who performs the closing act of all sacred rites—that is to say, the lifting of the tapu or sacredness—also to descent from Papa, the Earth Mother (the female line of descent), and to numberless other things

Here is another remark of my venerable authority. In speaking of Te Mahoihoi's encounter with Waitaha he continues: “Ko taua waha a Te Mahothoi, he waha rawhiti. Ma te tawhito anake a Waitaha e kore ia e ora, ahakoa waha rawhiti, waha hauraro, tama-wahine. Ka hu i te tama-tane, ka ora te rangi, ka ora te iwi” (That voice of Te Mahoihoi was an eastern one. The tawhito alone could not have saved Waitaha, albeit an eastern or northern voice, or the tama-wahine—(?)west. When the thunder resounds in the tama-tane—east—then the sky clears and man is safe). Here are more side issues. The latter part of the remark refers to oho rangi, a rite performed by the priests (tohunga Maori) in reference to certain sacred matters, in order to cause thunder to resound. The term “tawhito” is practically the same as “ure” (membrum virile). The latter is the ordinary term, while the former is the sacred or sacerdotal term, and which may be translated as the “Ancient One.” It was used when referring to the organ as being used in various rites, as to ward off evil, especially magic spells. “The tawhito,” said one of my aged teachers, “is the salvation of man.” But more of this anon.

After a perusal of countless notes I have evolved the following. I fear it is not a clear formula, but appears mixed and vague; but there is something of great interest behind these ancient, dim, and metaphysical abstractions:—

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1. Tama-tane = waha rawhiti = east = male descent, and tawhito active, and active magic.

2. Tama-wahine = waha hau-raro = west = female descent, and tawhito passive, and passive magic.

3. In magic the latter prevails or is the most important, if backed by sufficient mana (power, prestige, intellectual, natural, and supernatural), mana, according to the Maori, being derived from ancestors.

4. Tawhito = ure = procreative organs.


5. Tama-tane = male = active force.

6. Tama-wahine = female = passive force.

7. Waitaha could not be saved by the male tawhito alone. It needed a blending of the tama-tane and tama-wahine (male and female forces) in order to preserve life. In like manner, when both the tama-wahine and tama-tane thunders have resounded, then the sky clears.

The whole being the results of the attempt of a primitive people to explain the male and female forces, and to apply such to all departments of nature. And probably these items are the remains of, and point to, a system of phallic worship, as practised by the ancestors of the Polynesian race in times long passed away.

Kai Ure.

The rite known by the above term is performed in order to save the life of a person who has been subjected to the magic spells of an enemy, and to cause such magic to recoil upon the author thereof. Ka rere te ringa ki te ure, ka titoiria, katahi ka hapainga te karakia:—

Kai ure nga atua,
Kai ure nga tapu,
Kai ure ou makutu, &c.

And, again, in the whakau rite the following is repeated:—

To kai ihi, to kai ihi
To kai Rangi, to kai Papa
To kai awe, to kai karu
To kai ure pahore, &c.

In speaking of the above rites an old Maori said to me “The ure is the important mana (power, prestige, &c.) of the tapu.” An interesting kai ure invocation may be found in “Nga Moteatea,” page 305.

An aged native wrote me, saying, “Friend! I am sending the means by which you may ward off the shafts of magic and confound your enemies. Behold this invocation, the tawhito, the kai-ure, which saves man. When a person attempts to interfere with you in any way do as I tell you and you shall retain life; but your enemy, he shall descend to Hades for all time.” He then proceeded to explain how I

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was to act, and also wrote out the magic spell. I have not yet tried it on any of my enemies, but hope to be able to do so in the future. This subject is an extremely interesting one, but my notes thereon have really become so numerous that they must be reserved for a separate paper.

It is said that the Takitumu migrants brought a great knowledge of magic with them to New Zealand.

One of the most common forms of makutu, or witchcraft, is that in which a medium is used in order to connect the spells of the wizard with the object to be acted upon by them. This medium, termed “ohonga” and “hohonga,” when man is the object, is usually a fragment of his clothing, a lock of his hair, a portion of his spittle, or a portion of earth on which he has left his footprint. By obtaining such a medium the wizard will be able to bewitch the owner thereof by uttering his spells and performing certain rites. This is sympathetic magic. It may work all right, but if the object becomes aware that arts of magic are being practised against him he can divert (whiti, or whakataha, or ripa) such by counter-spells and rites, as the kai-ure, the parepare, the momono, and many others. It will then be resolved by the fact as to which possesses the greatest mana or power (intellectual and supernatural).

The above is generally termed “taking the hau” of a person. The hau of man means his intellectual and spiritual and supernatural power (mana). The hau is the immaterial essence or representation of such powers, while the ohonga is the material representation of the hau, and through such medium the hau of the subject is affected. When a person's hau is affected by magic his body perishes, it can no longer exist; his intellectual and spiritual force has departed.

If you meet a wizard, a person famed for his magic spells, and you happen to be carrying some food, do not give him any of it or he will use it as a medium and bewitch you. But when he has passed you do you stop and wave that food across the track, and repeat an incantation to nullify the effects of his spells. The action of waving the article of food across the trail traversed by the magician will carry with it the “warding-off” power of the karakia or charm.

When the ohonga is taken it is fastened to a branchlet of the karamuramu shrub and taken to the tuāhu, or sacred place of the village, and there the necessary spells are repeated over it in order to cause the death of the subject, who will be afflicted by wasting sickness.

If you are talking to me and I wish to lay a spell upon you, I can take the hau of your voice by uttering certain incantations. Such spells as this and others practised in the presence of the subject are not repeated aloud.

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The earliest case of slaying a person by magic contained in my notes is the destruction of Maui by Hine-nui-te-po, Goddess of Hades (the Po) and personification of death. The origin of the quarrel was the slaying of the children of Mahuika (origin and personification of fire) by Maui. After that Maui and Hine differed as to whether or not man should grasp eternal life. The ohonga, or medium, obtained by Hine was a drop of Maui's blood, which Namu, the silent sandfly, procured for her. The mosquito was sent first, but proved to be too noisy a messenger, and was heard and killed by Maui. Verily it was well to be wary in the days of old, for death was ever near.

There were many ways by which personal hau might be protected from magic, so long as the enemy's magic was not the more powerful. For instance, the ahua or semblance of the hau of man could be taken and protected by means of magic. The material token of such semblance would probably be a lock of the person's hair. This would be taken to the tuāhu, or sacred place of the village, and buried at the base of the Ahurewa, which is one of the forms of tuāhu, and is represented to the eye by a carved stick stuck in the ground. The depositing of this talisman was accompanied by the repetition of appropriate incantations or spells to render it effective.

A similar thing was the ika purapura, or taitai. This was a bird into which the semblance of the health, vitality, vigour, productiveness, &c., of the people and tribal lands had been instilled. After being hung up for a time, this talisman or semblance of the hau of man and land was buried, as an ika purapura. It would retain the essence of the desirable qualities of man and land, and guard them against magic arts. For reasoning in a metaphysical and anagogic sense the Maori has probably no superior, so far as his understanding went.

The hau of land, or of a forest, or of a productive tree, can be protected in the same way as personal hau, and in much the same way, by the concealing (with proper charms or invocations) of a material semblance of such land, forest, or tree. Take, for instance, a tree which is much frequented by birds, and hence a desirable one on which to set bird-snares. It is deemed advisable to protect the tree from being killed or blasted by an enemy's magic, or the birds driven therefrom by the same means, or from being poached by other persons. Therefore the tree is made tapu by the priest; after which, should any one interfere with it, such person will be afflicted by the atua or familiar demon of the priest. If that person, so afflicted, wishes to save himself he must go to the priest or wise man who rendered the tree tapu and place himself in

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his hands for treatment. Nor is it wise to delay the matter; the gods who live for ever are not to be trifled with.

In the above rite the priest takes the hau of the tree, or the semblance thereof. The usual plan is to take the first bird snared upon the tree—or the long wing-feathers (kira)—which is taken away and hidden in the forest somewhere, and incantations said over it to render the tree tapu and so protect it. It cannot now be injured by the magic spells of enemies.

Should a person sell or barter the property of another, that is termed a “hau whitia,” or “averted hau.” The person who so received the article will surely die; he will not survive.

Theft was often punished by the dread arts of magic in this wise: When a person lost an article by theft he would take the ahua (semblance of personality) of such article to the priest, the material token of which ahua would be something that had been in contact with the stolen article. Two cases came under my notice. In one some eels were taken from a man's eel-pot. In the other case money was stolen from a box. In the first case a fragment of the eel-pot was used as a material token of the personality of the eels. In the other a coin which had been overlooked by the thief was used. This medium would be taken to the priest and laid before him, with the explanation that it was the ahua of an article which had been stolen. The priest would look at the material medium and say to the applicant for justice, “I see the wairua (spirit) of the thief standing by your side.” He would then describe the appearance of the thief whose spirit he saw. Such spirits are always anthropomorphous with the Maori, and probably to all other primitive races. The plaintiff in the above case would, when he recognised the thief from the priest's description, sometimes go and demand his property so as to give him a chance of escaping the awful effects of the priest's spells of witchcraft. When the thief refused to return the article stolen it was time enough to put the law of makutu in force. Sometimes, however, the sufferer of the theft would say at once, “Patua atu” (Destroy him). The priest would then perform his magic rites over the medium which had been brought to him. And it was not well for that thief; death or insanity lay before him. The priest who performed the above rite would be one of the class of tohunga (priests) known as a “tohunga ruanuku.” Other classes of priesthood are tohunga taua, or war-priests; tohunga pukenga, or teachers; and tohunga puri, who are also magicians. The above priest would also be a matatuhi (matakite), or seer. The material medium mentioned above is sometimes termed “hau” or “maawe.”

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When it comes to the knowledge of a person that he is under the influence of magic directed by some enemy, or when he is taken ill, he at once hies him to the priest, who will tell him to return to him in the evening. When the sun sets they go together to the wai tapu, or sacred water of the village. This is a pond, spring, or stream set apart for sacred purposes, and no one may interfere with such water or make use of it. To take a drink of it is about equal to taking a dose of poison; it is even dangerous for an individual unaccompanied by a priest to approach it. On arriving at the water the priest looks at the patient and says, “You have been bewitched. I see the wizard standing by your side. What shall I do with him?” The answer will probably be, “Slay him.” The priest then repeats the spell to destroy the wizard, after which he taps the patient with his sacred wand and recites:—

To ara
Haere i tua, haere i waho
Haere te maramatanga
Haere i nga kapua o te rangi
Haere mahihi ora
Haere i nga kapua o te rangi
Haere ma hihi ora
Ki te whai ao, ki te ao marama
Ko rou ora
Haere i a moana nui
Haere i a moana roa
Haere i a moana te takiritia
Ki te whai ao, ki te ao marama
Ko rou ora.

With his wand the priest sprinkles water over the body of the patient. At dawn next morning the sacred umu, or steam-oven, is kindled, and food cooked therein. Among the food is a special piece placed. When the oven is uncovered if that special article of food is thoroughly cooked, then it is known that the wizard has perished or is nigh unto death. Then the patient recovers. It would appear that the above may be a form of crystallomancy, and that the priest, by intense will-power or other means, sees reflected in the water the form of the magician—i.e., if the acting-priest's mana is strong enough to overcome that of the offending wizard. Such rites as the above are always performed in the evening or early morn, for the simple reason that the wairua, or spirit of man, does not wander forth or roam about in the broad light of day, and hence is not available to be influenced by the magic spells of the priest. In like manner, when such a rite is being performed the people of the village or fort will remain in their houses, lest their spirits roam forth and approach the spot where the magic rites of the priest are being performed, which would probably destroy such wander-

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ing spirits, when, of course, the physical bases of such would infallibly perish.

Those who have been simply rendered insane or mentally deranged (keka) by magic for such a crime as theft would spend the balance of their days wandering aimlessly about, clutching at the air, and repeating meaningless words and phrases.


The whakamatiti is a spell of magic, or magic rite, which is employed by a priest in order to punish a thief without killing him. This causes him to become mentally deranged, as described above, and also contracts his fingers and weakens his hands, so that he can take or hold nothing with them. This rite is sometimes termed “ahi matiti.” It is mentioned in an oriori, or lullaby, of olden times:—

Waiho te whare, E hine!
I to tipuna i a Paia
Hua rawa atu nei ka matau rawa i a ia
Te whata a to tipuna, a Raumati-ninibanga
Para whetau—e
Na Turuwhatu te whata a Pouroa
I Tabuna-a-tapu.
Mou ra, E hine!
Koi hikaia koe ki te ahi o te ruhi,
Ki te abi o te ngenge,
Ki te abi o te whakamatiti
Mo te kore rawa, E hine!

There were in former times a great number of charms or spells of an inferior kind, which had no power to destroy life, but simply unnerved or weakened the subject. They were often put in the form of a song or chaunt (waiata). The following is a specimen thereof. It is one of the class of songs known as a “makamaka kaihaukai,” which are chaunted by the people who present food to guests at a feast. The following was composed by one Ruru, of Tuhoe, in order to unnerve a rival and render him incapable of performing with good effect before the visitors at a feast:—

He Waiata Makamaka Kaihaukai. Na Ruru: He Karakia kia kore e kaha tana hoa Makamaka Kaihaukai, kia hinga i a ia.

Korokoro whiti, korokoro whiti
Tu ana te manu i runga i nga puke ra
Tenei hoki te kame ka whakairi
Te kame ka whakarere
Te kame i pokaia noatia
I runga i a Tu-ka-riri
I a Tu-ka-niwha, i a Tu-ka-ritarita
E baere ana Rita, he tangata kamenga kore
Ka pau te ki hanga maka
He nui kame maoa e tu ana i ou atua roa
He tini te kame, he mano te kame, he tutae taua
Ka kame tiko iho ki waenga

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He aha aku kai tē pau noa ai
Naku te tohenga ki te whitu, ki te waru
Ki te roa o te tau
Waiho nei matau hai timokomoko kai
Ma te ngaburu (? Ngahuru)
Tangi ana te whakatopatopa o kame
O kame maunu, he toroa, he taiko—e, &c.

The following is also a charm to weaken a person and prevent him from finishing the building of his house. It might be used out of ill-will, or to punish the builder for having made an error in the plan of the house or in the measuring (tieke) thereof:—

He tai panuku, he tai wheranu
E Nuku! E moe nei, ka riri koe e koe
E Papa e moe nei
Tauia mai ra te papa o toku whare
Ko Hauhau-tu-ki-te-rangi
He ra ka hinga, he ra ka newha
Ka tupeke hinga ki tai o Motutapu (or Ka tupe, ka hinga?)
Uahatia taku manu i te rangi
He toroa, he karae, he taiko
Ko te manu tangi reo
Ki te muriwai o Wai-rarawa
Turakina, ka hinga ki te Po whekerekere
Ka takoto i Muriwai whenua
Ka eke i ona irohia.

There are two varieties of charms or magic spells known as “rotu.” One is termed a “rotu moana”; it is used in order to calm the ocean—to put it to sleep, in fact. “Rotu” means “heavy-eyed,” as for want of sleep. “Rorotu” means “to oppress with sleep.” The other rotu is used in order to make a person sleep. The following is such an one:—

E moe! E moe!
Ko te po nui, ko te po roa
Ko te po i whaka-aua ai to moe
E moe!

Tamoe, or Umu Tamoe

Tamoe” means to suppress the evil designs and enmity of people by means of a magic rite—the umu tamoe. When the Matatua immigrants were coasting along the shores of the Bay of Plenty they performed this rite before landing, in order to calm the enmity of the people of the ancient tribes of that part. After a battle has been fought the victors perform the umu tamoe in order to prevent the enemy being able to avenge their defeat. The umu horokaka is a rite performed before attacking an enemy. A fire is kindled by the priest, whose magic spells are to cause the wairua, or spirits, of the enemy to be drawn into the magic fire and therein be consumed (ka rotua nga wairua o nga hoariri ki roto).

The umu hiki is a rite performed in order to cause a people

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to forsake their lands and migrate to pastures new. It is an easy way of disposing of objectionable people.

The ka-mahunu is a rite performed in order to render an evil person ashamed of his ways—to cause his conscience to prick him, in fact. This is probably one of the highest points to which Maori ethics reached.

The wero ngerengere is an incantation to cause a person to be attacked by leprosy. It is a Taupo product, and used to be practised there.

Tu-matapongia, is a spell to cause a person to become invisible to others. It is useful when being pursued by an enemy.

The papaki is a spell to destroy or render demented a woman who will not consent to marry a man who desires her. There are many charms and magic rites in connection with birth, love, marriage, conception, divorce, &c., which would occupy too much space here.

The hau-o-puanui is a wind raised by magic in order to accelerate a person's speed in travelling, or the return of a truant wife, &c.

The whakamania is to pass disparaging remarks about a person to his face, not behind his back, to which latter the terms “kohimu,” “ngau tuara,” “rae oneone,” &c., are applied. The term “whakamanior” is similar in meaning to “whakamania.” These disparaging remarks, when uttered by a person of importance, are looked upon as being ominous of evil. When the sons of Tuwharetoa, of Kawerau, wished to go a slaying their aboriginal neighbours their father objected, and told them to wait until the tapu was lifted from his crops. However, the sons persisted, which angered the old gentleman. He said to them, “Haere i a tuku noa, i a heke noa, e popo, e anea, mau ka oti atu, oti atu,” which was equivalent to telling them that they could go to the deuce and end in Hades. So fell they in the fight of Kaka-tarae.

The umu-pururangi is a rite and incantation used to destroy life. When the two wives of Uenuku-koihu quarrelled one slew the other by means of this magic rite, which I refrain from publishing, for obvious reasons.

The puru-rangi is an incantation used to block up the flood-gates of the heavens, in order to make the rain and wind cease and bring fine weather. It is an extremely useful charm to have in camp. When winds become too boisterous to be pleasant the first invocation or spell repeated was the tokotoko, which was to cause the wind to betake itself to other parts. After that the puru-rangi was recited:—

Tokona nga hau
Tokona ki waho
Tokona nga hau
Tokona ki uta
He rangi kia purupurua, &c.

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The wind known as “tutakanga-hau” is laid by means of cursing it vigorously, as follows:—

Riri—e! Riri—e!
Riri te rangi i runga nei
Riri nga hau.

The umu-pongipongi is also a rite of magic used in order to take human life (he umu kai whanaunga). Compare fakabogi = murder, in Tongan, as also fakabogibogi.

A strange legend of Te Roto-iti mentions a horde of demons or uncanny objects which were despatched by Te Rongo-pu-iti against the Moturoa Fort at that lake. These taniwha, or goblins, appeared in most extraordinary forms, such as he uma kau (a being all chest), he upoko anake (a head only), he tapahu (war-cloak), &c. I much fear that the seer who saw these wondrous beings must have been unwell at the time. However, the Maori priests and mediums had some very extraordinary hallucinations.

Ahi Whakaene.

This was a rite by which many different spells of magic were performed in the good old days. It is said to have been a sacred fire kindled by a priest, and over which the ka-mahunu and other rites were performed.

A rite is performed at the ahi whakaene whereby the personality (ahua) or the hau (intellectual and spiritual force) of man is destroyed, when the body of such man must perish. When the priest kindles the sacred fire he repeats the following charm, known as hika ahi (fire-generating):—

Hika atu ra taku ahi, Tu ma tere
Tonga tere ki te umu toko i-a-i—e
Tere tonu nga rakau
Tere tonu ki te umu—e.

Another rite performed at the ahi whakaene is that known as whakautuutu. To encounter the moko kakariki, or green lizard, or the moko tapiri was an evil omen. The person seeing one in his path would at once know that it had been sent by an enemy to destroy him and possibly his clan also. Such an occurrence is termed a “kotipu.” The first thing to do in such a case is to kill the reptile and get a woman to step over it, in order to avert the omen. This is called a “ripa” or “‘whiti.” The people then collect to perform the whakautuutu rite. The priest kindles the ahi whakaene, and the reptile is cut into pieces, which are thrown into the fire. As each piece is thrown in the name of a tribe, or sub-tribe, or noted magician is mentioned: “So-and-so shall eat you”—mentioning all people whom it is thought likely

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might have sent the ill-omened reptile. Also a charm known as “hirihiri” is repeated, in order to banish the threatened disaster to other parts. Then the people will pull out some of the hair of their heads and cast it into the fire, and all expectorate upon the dead lizard. Thus will the evil omen recoil upon he or they who sent it. Kaitoa!

I tahuna mai ahau ki te ahi whakaene
Ki mate te wairua.—Old Song.

The hirihiri is repeated by a person when he believes that some one is directing, or may shortly direct, spells of magic against him. Also, a priest will recite a hirihiri over a sick person, in order to discover who is “meddling” with him—that is to say, what magician is bewitching him. The following is an example:—

Kotahi koe ki reira
Kotahi kia Te Reretautau (name of a priest or magician)
Kotahi koe ki reira, kotahi ki nga ariki
Kotahi koe ki reira, kotahi ki nga mātāmua
Kotahi koe ki reira, kotahi ki nga wananga
Kotahi koe ki reira, kotahi ki nga tapu
Kotahi koe ki reira, kotahi kia Te Haraki.

In the particular case from which I take the above, when the patient heard the name of Te Haraki (a wizard) pronounced his life departed in a last sigh (puhanga manawa = the last expelling of breath by a dying person). Thus it was known that the worker of magic, Te Haraki, had been the cause of his death. Had the illness of the sick person been caused by that violation of tapu known as “Kai-ra-mua” (the eating of food set apart for the first-born, matamua, of a high-born family, a most intensely tapu individual), then he would have expired (ka puha ake te manawa) at the word mātāmua; and so on with the other terms.

Be clear, the offender would be afflicted in this manner during times of peace. But if he ate of the food of a mātāmua in time of war, then he would be afflicted by Tu-mata-rehurehu of dread memory; of a verity the afflictions of the pahunu, hinapo, and parahuhu would descend upon him. His strength would wane, his sight wax dim, no enemy would he slay or catch, the fear which springs from sin committed would be upon him. All of which troubles are inflicted by the gods.

Ngau Paepae.

A person falls ill. The priest is sent for. He finds that the illness has been caused by some infringement of tapu. The priest will then proceed to cure the patient by means of the rite known as “Ngau paepae.” He conducts him to

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the village latrine, and says to him, “Bite the paepae” (wooden bar), which the patient does, the priest reciting:—

Ngaua i te pae, ngaua i te wehi
Ngaua i te upoko o te atua
Ngaua i a Rangi e tu nei
Ngaua i a Papa e takoto nei
Whakapa koe ki te ruahine
Kia whakaorangia koe
E tahito nuku, e tahito rangi
E tahito pamamao
Ki Tawhiti i Hawaiki.

The following is another such karakia (charm, spell, incantation, invocation):—

Ka kai koe ki tua
Ka kai koe ki te paepae
E takoto nei
Koia nga tapu, koia nga popoa
Koia nga whare, koia nga urunga
Koia nga tapu nei
He atua kahu koe
Haere i tua, haere i waho
Haere i te rangi nui e tu nei
Mahihi ora
Ki te whaio ao, ki te ao marama
Ko rou ora.

After this rite the patient is noa, or free of the dread tapu, and so recovers.


The mātākai is a spell recited in order to bewitch a person while he is in the act of eating, that the food and power of the spell may pass together into his stomach. In two days he will be assailed by illness. (See an account of the same sort of magic in Welby's travels in Abyssinia.) It is said by some that this spell causes a person to choke; he cannot swallow his food, it sticks in his throat.

Tangi Tawhiti.

This was a spell of magic in the form of a chaunt or dirge. It was used in order to slay a person or persons sometimes living far away. The following is a tangi tawhiti composed and chaunted by the Tuhoe people in order to avenge the death of Te Umu-ariki, one of their chiefs who had been slain at Whangara:—

Taugi taukuri ai, e te mamae ra
Takaro ra mota ki whakaaro iho
Koia te tangata ringa taupoki patu kohuru

Ko tama e tu, ko Rehua tu roa Rite rawa lara te toa taurekareka
Whakaorahanga ki te ra, ki te marama
Nou te kaha ki te ika tere
Ka pae kai a Matioro

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Turanga o te tipua o Paoa, o Takitumu
O Ruawharo, o Timu-whakairia, o Rongokako
Ka mene kai roto o te puku nui o Tahaia
Aurara ou ringaringa, kai te rokiroki
Kai te penapena, kai te rakai whenua
Tetea nga niho o Tara-mai-nuku
Te niho o Tipoki ka whakatara ki te whetu
Te niho o Tipoki ka whakatara ki te marama
Ona niho kai tangata
Ka ngau ki te mata o Hoturoa
Ripia mai nei e te paea
Te taha maui ki tana (ripi)
Te Tipi a Houmea ki te one poutama
Tena te tohu na te tipua
Ka mau kai te kiri o te toa horopu
He ringa kia tu
Ka maha noa atu e roto—i.

The tipi a houmea mentioned above is identical with the papahāro, a most grievous affliction. It is a rite of magic which is used to blast the fertility of lands and render them sterile, or to destroy shellfish, &c., on a beach. The performing priest smooths a little sand or earth, which represents the lands whose fertility is to be destroyed. He then scores it across with a wand, repeating at the same time his spell of magic to blast the fertility of that land. Or he will take a stone and recite over it his spell, and then throw the stone across the land or water to be sterilised. It is the mănă of his ancestors, whom the priest invokes, that is the destructive power. The incantation to restore the good products of such lands to their original state of vitality is known as “pare-hao-kai.”

The following is an interesting tangi tawhiti: A female relative of Piki, of Tuhoe, was bewitched by Taratoa. Piki, who was at Whakatane, chaunted this tangi tawiti in order to slay Taratoa, who, with all his people, was living inland. Taratoa saved himself and two relatives by means of counter-charms, but the rest of his relatives died:—

E hine, Marunui i te tapui
Ka taka i ou tuakana
Tu ake hoki, e hine! ki te tu wharariki
Hai whakakakara mo hine ki te moenga
Te moenga tē whita, te moenga tē au
Oti tonu atu koe ki raro—e—e
Taupae atu ra i tua o Te Wharau—e hine!
Ka wehe ko te po, ka wehe ko te ao i a koe
Tokona atu ra ki tawhiti
He tokouri, he tokotea, he mapuna, he kai ure
Kai ure noa ana, e hine!
Nga tohunga i nga atua kia mate
Koi tonu nga niho ki te ngau.
Na Maui i hangarau, e hine!
Tana ika tapu, ko te whenua nui
E noho nei taua

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I tikina ki raro wheuriuri, kia Hine-nui-te-Po
Hai ngaki i te mate
I tukua mai neiki āna karere,
Ki te waeroa, ki te nainu poto
Hai kakati i te rae.
I te mata o te hurupiki—e hine!
Ko ta paua (?) ka ea te maie
O te hiku rekareka nei, o te tuna—e-i
Takoto mai ra, e hine!
I roto i te whare papa
Ko te whare ra tena o to tipuna, o Tama-a-mutu,
I tuhia ai—e-ki tuhi marei kura
Koia a Ngai-Tama-tuhi-rae
I whakairi ai—e-ki runga ki te rakau
Koia te kauhau i to papa, i a Maui, e hine!
Tera ia te rua o tini raua ko mano
I karia ki te oneone ika nui—e hine!
Hurihuritia iho ra, e hoa ma—e!
Ta tatau mahuri totara
No te wao tapu nui a Tane
No te awa-e-i Oatua.
No runga-e-i Okarakia
No nga pinga-e-i roto i te Kopua
Taku totara haemata,
Te rite ai, e hine!
Ki a koe—i—a.

Oatua is a stream and Okarakia a settlement at Ruatahuna. The tuna mentioned is Puhi, the eel-god, who was slain by Maui for interfering with Hine-nui-te-Po, Goddess of Hades.

The Maori possessed spells of potent magic to contract the land, and others to stay the sun in its course. These were used by travellers. Others were used by persons engaged in searching for anything. If a person were supposed to have been slain or perished from hunger or in a snowstorm while travelling, a priest (tohunga ruanuku, or magician) would perform a certain rite in order to “awaken” the bones of the dead—a ka hu mai aua wheua, and the bones would resound to show their whereabouts.

The punga was a spell to lessen the speed of a person pursuing one, or of a person one is pursuing.

The hearts of slain enemies were cooked at a fire termed “ti-rehurehu,” and spells were repeated over them to sap the bravery of the enemy and render them faint-hearted.

The whakaumuumu is a magic spell used to destroy human life. To ward off a threat of magic the following brief phrase is used: “Kuru ki whakataha.

If a person is put to shame before people he may wish to be transported elsewhere. He will therefore call upon his familiar taniwha, or monsters—probably ancestors of his, who assumed that form at death—to bear him hence. He will summon them by repeating the following:—

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Tangi atu au ki te ninihi nui o te moana
Ki te parata nui o te moana
Ki te taniwha nui o te moana
Ki te paikea nui o te moana
Kia hara mai, kia horomia hine
Ko Hine whakaruru taua
Kei a rawea e koe
Tutakina ki te rangi taua.

The toko-uri and toko-tea are said to be two posts or sticks which are erected at the sacred place of a village. One is the emblem of misfortune, sickness, and death; the other is the emblem of health, vigour, and life. The one is subjected to magic rites that misfortunes may not assail the tribe—to expel sickness, death, &c. The other is similarly treated to cause it to retain the health, vigour, &c., of the tribe.

It is excessively bad form to be inhospitable to a visitor. Should he arrive while you are eating, ask him at once to join you. Should you neglect so to do, thinking, perhaps, that he is a person of low birth and an ignorant, yet he may possess powers of magic and destroy you for slighting him. Hence the old saying, “Kai ana mai koe he atua, noho ana ahau he tangata” (You are eating there as a god; I am sitting here as a man).

When red war has siezed upon the land it is quite probable that you will find yourself, spear in hand and patu in belt, about to measure strength with an enemy; or trouble may arise in other ways, and it is decided that you settle the matter by single combat. You first carefully perform the rite of tuaimu, and repeat the spell or incantation known as a “mata-rakau” or “hoa rakau.” This has the effect of rendering a thrust or stroke of your weapon most effective. Before you commence to repeat the charm you must spit upon your weapon. If you wish to kill your adversary you add the words “Mau ka oti atu ki te Po, oti atu” (Away to the shades for ever) to your tuaimu spell which is meant to weaken your enemy. But, if your adversary is a relative, you probably do not wish to slay, but merely to wound him. Therefore the above words are omitted, and when you have struck down your foe you stand over him, and, expectorating upon your fingers, rub them over the face of the fallen man, at the same time repeating: “Mau ka hoki mai ki te ao nei”. (Return you to the world of life). Understand, you yourself are under tapu at this time, and therefore your spittle even is, as it were, impregnated with that tapu. Therefore the action just described has the effect of imparting mana, or power, to your magic.

Rua-iti, or Rua-torino.

This is another method of destroying life by magic spells acting upon the human hau. Ngati-awa Tribe describe the

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rua-torino as being a mound of earth formed in human shape by the priest. In this supposed human body he makes a hole, and then recites his spells of magic, in order to cause the spirit of the subject to descend into that hole, where it is affected or destroyed by the spells of the priest.

Tuhoe describe the rua-iti as follows: The priest makes a hole in the ground. This is the rua-iti. He has already obtained a piece of cord, the property of the subject, obtained by theft. He holds one end of the cord in his hand and allows the other end to trail down into the hole. He then repeats a spell to cause the wairua, or spirit, of the subject to descend the cord into the rua, or hole, where it is confined and destroyed by an incantation known as “kopani-harua.”

If a man finds out that some one is trying to destroy him by means of magic, his atua, or familiar demon (probably the spirit of his father or of an ancestor) will warn him, or his own wairua (spirit) will discover the fact that a magician is “meddling” with its physical basis and so return and warn the same (this refers to dreams: a person dreams that he is being so treated; to the Maori it is his spirit which has seen it); and he, the subject, will despatch a person to obtain a piece of any kind of cord belonging to the wizard. This cord is the medium between the subject (who now becomes an active agent) and the magician. The person makes an incision on his shoulder and smears the blood therefrom on the cord, which he then burns. I have not the special incantation here used. This rite is to ward off the spells of the magician who has bewitched him, and if it has sufficient mana it will destroy him. The performer must then whakanoa or lift the tapu from himself. To effect this he will obtain the services of a ruahine, a woman who is employed to make common people, houses, &c., under the influence of tapu. He cooks a single kumara and hands it to the woman, who eats it, while more invocations are repeated. Another way is to place the kumara under the threshold of his house, which the ruahine then steps over.

In war, when flying from an enemy, the pursued would turn and score a line across the earth or water behind him, at the same time repeating a karakia, which is said to destroy the pursuer so soon as he crosses the aforesaid line. When it was known or suspected that a war-party was approaching in order to attack a fort or village, the priest of the latter would go forth and bury a kumara (sweet potato) under the trail by which the enemy was supposed to approach. When such enemy crossed that spot they would be assailed by the pahunu or mahunu, a loss of nerve, an indefinable fear, produced by the spells of the priest recited when burying the kumara. Sometimes a spear would be laid across the track

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with the same object in view. of course, the hoa rakau charm was repeated over the weapon thus deposited.

In the far-back misty past, when gods and men mingled and deeds of passing strangeness occurred, it was Maahu who strove with Haere-atautu, their weapons being the magic of old. This was probably after the separation of Maru, Haere, and Kahukura. Both those beings were destroyed, each by the other. Haere (a rainbow god) was lured by Maahu to the paepae, where he was entered by Noke, the earthworm, and so destroyed; while Maahu of old was lured by Haere into the calabash known as Tipoki-o-rangi and therein destroyed.

When travelling through an enemy's country always walk in the water as much as possible, so as to avoid leaving your footprints on earth or sand, the hau (personality) of which might be taken by an enemy and used as an ohonga, or medium, through which to destroy you by his dark spells. Also be careful not to expectorate as you traverse a trail or cast away any article you have touched, for any of these articles may serve as a medium for the rites of magic. Again, when in mixed company, of whom you are not sure that a member thereof may not bear you ill-will, never rise from a seat without putting down your hand and “scooping up” therewith any fragments of your hau, or personality, which may have adhered to the seat. It is not well to neglect these precautions.

A priest or magician of sufficient mana, or power, can cause a flood by means of an invocation known as tukurangi, addressed to Para-whenua-mea, the origin and personification of floods or flood-waters. He can also cause a flooded river to subside. To do this he would take in his hand a stone, over which he would repeat his karakia (charm, &c.). He would then cast the stone across the flooded river. The tohunga rua-nuku had also incantations in his budget wherewith to blast trees, to shatter rocks, and many other marvellous things.

When invited to a feast it behoves one to be cautious when the presents of food are placed before you, for maybe that food has been bewitched by some evilly disposed person, and it is well to avert (whiti) the misfortune. You know, of course, that when the long heap of food is placed before guests the right-hand end as you face it is the kauru (head) and the other end the take (base). Before commencing to eat, your priest or man of knowledge will rise and, taking the basket of food from the extreme right, or kauru, he will place it on the extreme left, and shift the one on the left to the extreme right. This is a whiti ora, an averting of misfortune.

If you should happen to wound yourself—say, a cut by an

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axe—you should instantly rub the axe on the wound and repeat the charm known as “whai motu.” If in walking you trip and hurt your foot, repeat the words “Tina ora.”

Mawake, of Kawerau, waxed old and died. He was buried at Waitaha-nui. After some time one Manaia was strolling past that spot and possessed himself of Mawake's jaw-bone, out of which he fashioned himself a fish-hook. One day Manaia and his people went out to sea to fish. As they lay fishing on the banks a fish leaped from the sea and dropped into the canoe of Manaia That fish was an aho. Then the demons of the sea rose and utterly destroyed that people. Behold the power of the gods!

The custom of protecting crops or fish or forest products, or flax or ochre springs, &c., by means of a rahui was widespread in Maoriland—in fact, a universal custom. A post, termed pou rahui, would be set up and a bunch of fern or weeds tied thereto as a token of the rahui. Sometimes the head of a slain enemy was so used. When Tuhoe slaughtered Ngatirangitihi at Rere-whakaitu they brought back to Rua-tahuna the heads of many chiefs. That of Tionga was taken to Tarapounamu and there used to guard a famous bird-snaring tree.

The above post had no power in itself to punish poachers, but an object, such as a stone or branch, &c., was used as a whatu (kernel, an object to absorb the magic power), and was termed a “kapu.” Over this the incantations were repeated which had the power of destroying any person who interfered with the things protected by the rahui. The kapu, or whatu, was concealed near the pou rahui.

Waro rahui is another term used. “Waro” means a pit or chasm. A Maori would say, “A waro was dug that those who went to steal might descend thereby to death.” It by no means follows that any pit was dug. The pit was the power of the spells of magic by which poachers and thieves were slain; that was the real pitfall. Such is one of the beauties of the Maori tongue. A person often means something totally different from what he says.

But, apart from the rahui, if it was found that poachers were snaring birds in a forest where they had no right, an offence known as “kai haumi,” search would be made for some of the feathers that may have fallen from the birds taken. These would be taken to the priest of magic, to act as an ohonga, or medium, between the incantations of the priest and the subjects; and trouble lay before the kai-haumi gentry.

The causes of magic spells being employed were innumerable. Among others were quarrels concerning women, contentions between men as to items of ancient history, &c. jealousy, envy, and other causes too numerous to mention.

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One of the earliest acts of magic (makutu) on record is the act of Maui when he caused Irawaru to assume the form of a dog. The cause of this act was that Whatu-nui, wife of Maui, had received attentions from Maui's elder brother, Maui-mua.

Kākā, a chief of Kahungunu Tribe, derived his name from the following circumstance: A leading chief of the tribe had been slain by a priestly magician named Moeroa, who, in conjunction with one Meke, of Te Wairoa, obtained some kākā birds and performed over them their magic rites, and then sent them to the above chief, who, eating of them, died the death. It was then that Kawatiri took the name of Kākā, in order to keep green the memory of that killing.

Another good way in which to dispose of enemies is to obtain one of the (cooking) stones from their ovens. You then have certain spells recited over this by a magician and return the stone to the oven. When next those people eat food that has been cooked in that oven—he parekura! there will be trouble.

Sometimes bitter wars arose in consequence of acts of makutu, or witchcraft. When Ngati-maru, of Hauraki, raided the eastern shores of the Bay of Plenty they took back home with them numbers of Ngai-tai and Ngati-ira. Some time after this Te Whata, son of Tu-te-rangi-anini, of Ngati-maru, died, and Ngai-tai were accused of having bewitched him and so caused his death. Ngai-tai denied the truth of this, but said that Te Aitanga-a-mahaki had done so. Whereupon an expedition of Ngati-maru sailed from Hauraki, under the chiefs Tu-te-rangi-anini, Te Popo, and Te Rohu, to square matters up. After their departure Ngati-ira and Ngai-tai evolved the idea that Hauraki was a good place to migrate from. They therefore left, and returned home by an inland route through Tuhoeland, eventually reaching Torere. The Ngati-maru party attacked and defeated Ngai-tai at Parepaopao. One account says that they went on and attacked Te Aitanga-a-mahaki, a Turanga tribe. Before returning home Ngati-maru also defeated Te Whaka-tohea, the fight being known as “Paenga-toitoi.”

We have seen that when a person is taken sick he is taken to the waterside in order that the warlock may discover, by magic arts, the cause of the illness. Possibly you would like to know why a sick person is taken to the water. The reason is this: Wainui (the personification and origin of waters) is an ancestress of man, hence man is taken to her to be saved. And whether is his ailment a house, or a bed, or a sacred place, or a cacodemon, or a burial cave, there shall it be made clear—i.e., violation of tapu places.

There is another way in which the arts of makutu, or

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black magic, are used. When a man has served his time as a learner of the sacred history, religious rites (including magic), genealogies, mythology, &c., of his tribe, the time then comes when he must make some sacrifice in order to give power, force, mana, to the magic rites which he has learned during his novitiate, taught to him by the learned priests of the tribe. The teacher is not paid for his services by the pupil (tauira); the only payment made by the latter is the sacrifice above mentioned. The priest who taught him will tell the pupil that he must now, by his newly acquired magic powers, destroy one of his relatives—his wife, or father. or brother, &c. This is done, and the rites of the pupil will thus have due effect afterwards. Sometimes the pupil would first be given a stone, over which he would recite one of the numerous incantations which come under the generic term of “hoa.” He would then cast the stone down on the ground, where it would be shattered. Should it not break, however, then his learning has been in vain, his karakia, or charms, will not be effective.

To prevent an enemy from passing up a river in canoes a pole is stuck in the river-bed, and a bunch of fern, &c., tied on to the part of the pole above water. After certain magic spells are recited over it any enemy passing up the river above the pole will be afflicted by divers disorders. Also, when a tribe wishes to prevent eels from going up a river beyond the limit of the tribal lands they set up a similar pole. A totara log in the river Rangi-taiki, at Nga-huinga, held this magic power until it was interfered with by the godless soldiers of Fort Galatea.

The evil eye (titiro makutu) is believed in by the Maori. When bathing one day at Rua-tahuna I was amused when a small child said to me, “I titiro makutu a poti ki a koe, i a koe e kaukau ana” (The cat was looking upon you with an evil eye whilst you were bathing). Fortunately I felt no evil effects from the evident hostility of her cat; possibly my immunity from trouble lay in my knowledge of the art of mātāpuru.


You have heard of fire-walking as practised by the Tahitians and Fijians, as also by Oriental peoples. Maori traditions assert that this rite was formerly practised by their priests in order to give force, power, to their incantations. The following is the only clear account of the rite that I have succeeded in collecting:—

“Te Rangi-kaku, of Nga-maihi, was in a bad way. Evidently the gods had deserted him, or he had not sufficient mana to call the demons of the deep to his rescue. It was in

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this wise: Bangi had paddled merrily forth from Te Awa-a-teatua to take the offspring of Tangaroa, who swarm in the Sea of Toi. A storm arose, the canoe was swamped, and Rangi, the fisherman, perished. His body drifted ashore at Wairakei, where it was found by the Tauranga people, who promptly cooked and ate it. Te Hahae, a noted warlock of Ngati-awa, heard of this occurrence, and inquired concerning the appearance of the drowned person. The answer was, ‘He was a light-haired man, and had the puhoro pattern of tattooing on his left arm.’ Te Hahae cried, ‘Alas! He was my grandson, Te Rangi-kaku.’ He at once despatched his daughter, Te Rere-wairua, to Puketapu (at Te Teko), to her brothers, Ouenuku, Rehe, and Tikitu, saying, ‘Should your brothers consent to my proposition, let there be seventy separate whawharua (holes in which taro are planted), and only one taro in each, which must be cultivated so as to grow to a large size.’ So she went, and arrived, and said, ‘Te Rangi-kaku is dead and has been eaten. Te Hahae spoke in this manner: That taro be cultivated, that eels be caught (and cured).’ These labours were commenced. The woman returned. Te Hahae asked of his daughter, ‘How did your brothers receive the message which you took?’ She replied, ‘The taro are being cultivated.’ Autumn arrived. The Tauranga people came to get the taro and eels. The dawn of the morrow came. The old warlock cried to Nga-maihi, ‘Arise! Collect fuel and stones and covering (for the steam-ovens).’ These things were collected. The old man said, ‘The sacred oven, I will attend to that.’ The people cooked their food, and Te Hahae prepared his sacred umu (oven). As he dug the hole he repeated a charm. As he placed the fuel therein he repeated a charm. As he placed the stones on the fuel he repeated a charm. When the stones were red with heat Te Hahae, clad merely in a girdle of green twigs and leaves, entered the oven and stood upon the red-hot stones thereof. There he stood and repeated his magic spells, yet was he not injured by heat, nor was his girdle affected in any way by flame or heat. Then he stepped out and proceeded to put the taro in the oven. Then he covered the taro with green branches and fern-fronds, and covered the oven with earth, repeating a charm as he performed each act. When the food was cooked he uncovered the oven and put the food in baskets, and placed these in a row, and presented the food to the people of Ngati-pukenga and Ngai-te-rangi. And each of these acts was accompanied by further spells of magic. Then those people thought as to what return they could make for this present of food. And it was said, ‘We will go to the fishing-grounds.’ Then those people paddled out upon the ocean. Te Hahae said to Nga-

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maihi ‘Arise!’ And Nga-maihi returned to their homes. They left the old man behind. He entered the water and by his magic power raised the wind (uru-karaerae) in furious violence. Thus appeared the wind, the lightning, the thunder, the hail. The sea was torn up. That storm caught the fishing-fleet anchored on the hapuku-grounds, and utterly destroyed it and the people thereof. So fell Tauranga; and the eating of the body of Te Rangi-kaku was avenged. Wrought by Te Hahae, the works of the wizards of old. Friend! This is the end.”

Certain tribes are famed for their knowledge of witchcraft. Among these are the two divisions of Ngati-awa, and also the section of Ngati-kahungunu which lives in Te Wairoa district, on the East Coast. “Wairoatapoko rau” is a saying applied to that district. It is equivalent to “Wairoa, the engulfer of myriads,” so many have been slain by the dark arts of those people. A sub-tribe of the Wairoa people, Ngati-hika by name, who lived at Te Mahia, are said to have made themselves so objectionable to their neighbours by means of their magic powers that the latter rose up and expelled them. They, or a portion of them, came to Tuhoeland, where they were given wives and settled down, thus becoming merged in the Tuhoe Tribe.

Only this morning I had a visit from three old women of Tuhoe. Passing by my camp, they called in to exchange greetings, and to weep over a photograph of one of their number who but recently drank of the waters of Tane-pi and lifted the world-old trail for Te Reinga. Anyhow, we got talking, and some questions of mine led to the following narrative from one of my visitors: When she was a young girl, eight years or so of age, she was whakapakuwhatia, or betrothed, by her tribe to a man of the Ngati-awa Tribe. Her aunt took her to that tribe, where they remained some time, but she, not liking the man, returned with her aunt to their own tribe. Some time after a party of Ngati-awa visited Ruatahuna, and one of their number abstracted a few threads of her clothing, which fragment was taken away to serve as an ohonga, or medium. Thus she and several of her relatives and friends were bewitched by Ngati-awa. The case called for instant action. One of the tribal tohunga, or wise men, who was kauwaka, or medium, of the atua (god, demon) known as Taimana, took all the patients to Matuahu pa, or fort, on the shores of Waikare-moana (where he made them live for several seasons). He said, “Let a cord and a mussel-shell be sought.” These were found, and he proceeded to avert the magic of Ngati-awa and destroy the wizard. He bled each of the patients on the right shoulder and smeared the blood on the cord, which, together with the shell, he carried off to work

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the spells of old therewith. The old lady did not know what the rest of the rite was. A shell was sometimes used by the wizard in such rites as the rua-iti, in order to “scoop” the spirits of the subject into the pit of death. The above people left Matuahu just before Witty's expedition against that pa in 1869.

There would appear to be a great similarity between different races in regard to their superstitions and magic rites. The finding of the mātākai in Abyssinia is interesting, but primitive races appear to evolve similar ideas all the world over. In this connection an article on “Chinese Magic” which lately appeared in the Nouvelle Revue is interesting.

Do not imagine that makutu is a thing of the past. Not so. It still obtains and is still dreaded. I heard but yesterday of a case wherein a half-breed of the descendants of Tionga is said to have been bewitched by Tuhoe, on account of his claiming their lands at Te Whaiti.

Tama-rae, of Ngati-awa, is said to have slain Tikitu by means of magic. So Tikitu's son promptly shot the wizard, and, being pursued by the Armed Constabulary, fled to Ruatahuna.

I am informed that native magicians have tried to destroy white men by means of magic, but somehow it does not succeed.

In the above pages are given but a portion of the numberless ways in which people were slain or affected by means of the black art. We will now give a few more items by means of which the spells of magic are averted and life saved. You are now aware of some of the innumerable dangers to which human life is exposed. Be equally diligent in learning how to save life.


I had been getting some information regarding Maori religious rites from an old man of Tuhoe. When the interview was over he said, “I must mātāpuru, that the information I have given you may not return (recoil) and kill me.”

In the days of yore and the mana Maori, when the dread atua (demon) Tu-nui-a-te-ika (a meteor) was seen, the priests would at once proceed to mātāpuru—i.e., to perform certain rites and recite divers incantations or invocations in order to ward off the aitua, or evil omen. The mātāpuru is an excellent plan by which to avert the effects of magic. Should I hear that a wizard is in the vicinity I would at once proceed to mātāpuru. I tie a number of pieces of green flax round my body, arms, and legs—say, three or four on each. This is termed a “ruruku,” or binding-together of the body. I then

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recite the mātāpuru incantation. The following is a specimen one; it is termed a “momono”:—

Monokia te waha o te tipua
Monokia te waha o te tahito
Me puru to waha ki pari a nuku
Me puru to waha ki pari a rangi
E ki mai na koe, he tahito koe
He koeke, he kai-ure.

This mātāpuru is performed by travellers before entering a village where they imagine they may possibly be in danger of being bewitched.

The karakia known as “titikara” possesses great powers of healing, and is most useful in restoring to life those apparently dead.

Another good item is the whakaeo. This word means “to deprive of power.” If you are attacked by a taniwha, or demon, you should at once pull a hair from your head and cast that hair towards your assailant, at the same time repeating the appropriate incantation, which is a variety of the tuaimu.

Here is another spell by which you may avert the evil omen of meeting or seeing the little green lizard:—

E tama!
E patu koe ki tua
E patu koe ki waho
E patu koe ki te hau e pa nei
E patu koe ki te papa e takoto nei
E patu koe ki te rangi nui e tu nei
Tau e riri ai, ko uta, ko tai
Ko tou ora
Ki te whai ao
Ki te ao marama.

The above is a whakaeo; it deprives the evil omen of power.

The following is said to be effective when you are in trouble with a taniwha, or water demon:—

Haere i tua, haere i waho
Haere i a moana nui, haere i a moana roa
I a moana te takiritia
Ki te whai ao, ki te ao marama.

But do not forget the hair.

The expression “whakaeo” is also applied to man; certain spells are recited or actions performed in order to deprive enemies of strength, vigour, energy, &c. Sometimes the medium of the tribal war-god will explain to the warrio is that a certain act must be performed in order to whakaeo the enemy.

A man dies and is buried. Something causes his friends to think that he has been bewitched. The priestly worker of mysteries takes the matter in hand. He proceeds to the grave, carrying with him a stalk of the rarauhe fern. Over

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this he repeats one of the innumerable spells which come under the generic term of “hoa.” The stick is left there. If it sinks and disappears in the earth it is known that the person died through the power of magic, and also that all persons implicated in that dark work will perish before long. If the stick does not so disappear, then the person was not bewitched.

The sterility of the women of Ngati-whare, of Te Whaiti, is said to be the result of magic spells of Ngati-awa Tribe.

The following is a karakia repeated in order to avert any misfortune, sickness, trouble, &c., which may be lurking about—i.e., to preserve the people from all harm:—

Tua mai te whiwhia, tua mai te rawea—oi
Hao ki uta, hao ki te rangi nui e tu nei—oi
Haere ki waenga tapu
Tapu ihi, tapu rangi, toro i rangi
Tonoa mai te Pu, tonoa mai te More
More ki tua, More ki waho ra
Hukia mai te thi
Hukia mai te hata papatea
Korihi te manu, korihi te po, te ata haea.
Huna mai te ruruku, kohera mai te ruruku
Uru ki tua, uru ki waho
Kei te awhenga, kei a tutakarewa.

I can accomplish the slaying of a person by going to the tuahu, or sacred place, and taking therefrom food which has been placed there for the gods, or some of the remains of meals partaken of by a first-born child, which remnants are also there deposited. I bring the same away and put it among the person's food that he may eat thereof. will perish.

When travelling it is always desirable to protect yourself against magic, and you can do this by means of the whakau rite. The people of the land may bewitch your food, or work some other evil art. You take a small portion of cooked food and repeat over it:—

To kai ihi, to kai ihi
To kai Rangi, to kai Papa
To kai awe, to kai karu
To kai ure pahore
Tiritiria makamaka
Kia kai mai te ati tipua
Kia kai mai te ati tawhito
E kai, e horo o tatau kaki
Kia kai nuku tatau
Kia kai rangi tatau
Kia kai mātāmua tatau.

Enough said. If any one has been bewitching you his magic spells will recoil upon his own head and slay him.

When in your sleep your waiua (spirit) goes forth from your body and wanders about, it is ever seeking to discover

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any danger that may be threatening you, its physical basis. Should it discover that some person is bewitching you, it will at once return and you become aware of the fact. So soon as you awake go at once to the tuahu, or sacred place of the village, and stand there; but you must face in the direction of the place where the wizard lives, and then, stretching forth your hand, you repeat the charm beginning “Whakataha ra koe e te anewa o te rangi e tu nei” (Pass by thou whirlwind of the heavens, &c.). Having finished that, you then repeat the tuaimu charm, which has a most enervating and dangerous effect upon your enemy:—

Te imu kei te ruhi
Te imu kei te ta, kei te anewa
To ringa i tu, to ringa i pe
Pepehi nuku, pepehi rangi
Rere taka o rangi ki waho
Kaki whatiia
Tuku tonu, heke tonu
Te ika ki te Po
He ika ka ripiripia
He ika ka toetoea
He ika ka haparangitia
Muimui te ngaro, totoro te iro
Mau ka oti atu ki te Po
Oti atu ki te Po wherikoriko.

The wind known as “Te Aputahi-a-pawa” is most boisterous. It begins with a gentle wind, known as “hau mātāriki,” but after continuing for some time it becomes most fierce and is dangerous. Hasten at once to the water, to your mother Wai-nui, and stand therein. You have brought with you a piece of dead ember. You take this in your left hand and pass that hand under your thigh. Enough, the fierceness of that wind will at once abate.

Heoi! You have now seen how beset by dangers is man's path through life. You have also learned how to avoid such dangers. But the way is thick with snares and pitfalls; relax your vigilance for a few brief moments and the workers of evil shall fasten upon you. Above all, revere the laws of tapu. Keep green the memory of your ancestors, for of such are the gods of the Maori. They can save you from danger or send you down to Hades.

The long, weary fight against superstition which you have waged for many centuries, through sorrow and darkness and much suffering, it has just commenced here. Old Waihui, a frail survivor from the days of the levelled spear, when she heard of the marvels of the white man's hospital, said to me, “Oh! and if we had taken my son there he might still be with me.”

And so the struggle goes on.

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Art. VI.—The Beginnings of Literature in New Zealand: Part II., the English Section—Newspapers.

[Read before the Otago Institute, 9th July, 1902.]

Last year I had the pleasure of placing before this Institute a sketch of the first, or Maori, section of New Zealand literature.* This had the interesting feature of being one introduced by ourselves and presented in their own language to a race whom we, as the superior intrusive people, are destined to supersede. On this occasion I propose to give some account of the purely English section of the subject as it struggled into life during the early period of this colony's existence.

The definitions of literature have been very various. Some would include under the term only the worthiest utterances or creations of the human mind made known to mankind through the art of writing. But for our purpose we must have something much more comprehensive, and must consider literature to mean the collective term for all writings. When our predecessors, the heroic colonisers, first came to these shores, and for many years after, life was beset with daily difficulty and danger, a condition which left little opportunity for cultivating the Muses; yet they brought with them provision for the production of a newspaper—that inseparable requirement of an Englishman—and it is in this adjunct that almost the first germs of New Zealand literature are contained. It cannot be pretended that much literary excellence is to be found in these early newspapers, but some account of them and of their writers—for editors in the present meaning of the word did not exist—must be interesting, and has an historical value.

On the 18th April, 1840, the first New Zealand paper saw the light. It was issued by Mr. Samuel Revans, who was thus the father of the Press in this colony. Its birthplace was in a raupo whare on the banks of the River Hutt, which falls into Port Nicholson. It was in this vicinity that the chief surveyor of the New Zealand Company was engaged in planting its earliest township, which was first called “Britannia,” but afterwards by its present name of Wellington. Mr. Revans's previous history was sufficiently stirring, and marked him as one well suited to participate in the foundation of the young settlement. Born in 1808, and connected with the printing business, he emigrated to Canada in 1833, where he joined his friend Mr. H. S. Chapman, so well known to us as Mr. Jus-

[Footnote] * Trans. N.Z. Inst., xxxiii., p. 472.

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tice Chapman. The two engaged in newspaper ventures, and brought out the first daily journal published in British North America—the Montreal Dialy Advertiser. This was at a time when the country was seething in that prolonged political discontent which finally developed into insurrection, and even into rebellion—the so-called Canadian rebellion. Heart and soul the partners entered into the conflict, espousing, as we should say now, the side of right against might and oppression. Mr. Revans was denounced as a rebel, and a price was put upon his head; but he escaped pursuit, and then, meeting Edward Gibbon Wakefield and others interested in New Zealand colonisation, cast in his lot with them and their scheme. These gentlemen purchased a press and type for the benefit of the settlers who were about to sail, and intrusted the management and control to Mr. Revans. The first number of the paper was published in London just prior to the departure of these first settlers. There were two editions of it, one dated the 21st August and the other the 6th September, 1839. These were devoted to a history of the movement, and gave information to intending emigrants. A fortnight afterwards the first three vessels sailed—the “Aurora,” “Oriental,” and “Adelaide,” in the latter of which was Mr. Revans and his freight. She took six months for her voyage; but there was no delay in the appearance of the second number, which, as I have said, was on the 18th April. It was of four pages, demy folio—that is, the size of the present Otago Witness or Christchurch Press, and also the size of all the earliest newspapers of the colony. Its original name was the “New Zealand Gazette.” To this was appended in the twentieth number the further title of “and Britannia Spectator,” after the name given to the first town of the settlement. In November the name of the infant settlement of Britannia was altered to the more euphonious one of Wellington, and the paper assumed its final title of “New Zealand Gazette and Wellington Spectator.” It was issued weekly at a price of £2 per annum, or 1s. for single numbers. As a comparison the Otago Daily Times costs £1 6s. a year, for which we get a paper six times a week and at least five times larger. After eighteen months had elapsed—that is, in October, 1841—the Gazette was issued twice weekly, and so continued until a few months before its decease, when it reverted to the original weekly period. As we should expect from a knowledge of Mr. Revans's former experience, he conducted the paper with considerable business ability, if with little or no literary pretension. His politics were decidedly against the Government, not only, perhaps, because of old proclivities, but because of the constant antagonism between Auckland and Wellington. One was the seat of the Governor and British Government, the other was founded

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by the New Zealand Company; their interests clashed, and bitter feeling and jealousy resulted. In its columns the company was warmly defended against its enemies, and the Wakefield system of colonisation had no more constant and able exponent. In these two features of its policy rested the germs of the paper's final decay and death. Its pages contain quite a mine of historical incident, gathered chiefly by scissors and paste from all parts of the young colony, and give another instance, if that were needed, of the necessity of preserving newspaper records containing, as they do, so many side lights of history and glimpses of a life so different from that of the present. From time to time the journals of exploration into the unknown country around are given at length, and occasionally there are articles on the natural history and productions of New Zealand, for amongst the early settlers were a few men of scientific mark. Dr. Frederick Knox, the well-known brother of the eminent Edinburgh anatomist, and Mr. Swainson, F.R S., so celebrated as a naturalist, are examples.

Then came a time when the community ceased to thrive, misfortunes befell it, and discontent prevailed. From causes partly beyond its control the New Zealand Company showed diminished interest in its emigrants, and especially failed to place them in possession of the lands they supposed themselves to have purchased prior to leaving the Home-country, and it was then contended that the Gazette neither expressed the sentiments nor advocated the interests of the community. Such loss of confidence meant failure and invitation for a rival, and so on the 25th September, 1844, in its 363rd number, this interesting pioneer of New Zealand journalism closed its existence. I am inclined to think that Mr. Revans himself was not an inconsolable mourner. Long he had fought an uphill game, and frequently had deplored his diminished advertisements and his forgetful subscribers. After this he commenced sheep-farming in the Wairarapa in conjuction with his old friend Captain Smith, formerly the company's chief surveyor. But his life was destined yet to continue one of change and vicissitude. In 1851 he left for California, when the “diggings” were at their height, taking with him merchandise of timber and potatoes; but, like so many who abandon dissatisfied these happy shores, he speedily returned, never again to leave them. For a time he represented his district in the old Provincial Council of Wellington, but gradually he withdrew from public life, confining himself to farming pursuits, and died at Grey-town on the 14th July, 1888, at the age of eighty years, unmarried. I can recall him as one of my first acquaintances in this country. Impelled by that special curiosity which

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was so frequent amongst the earliest colonists, he came down to Dunedin to view the stirring life and change that had so suddenly transformed the quiet of this plodding settlement, and an attack of illness brought us into contact. He was of rough exterior, careless in dress, and wore a conspicuously large Panama hat. His eyes were dark, penetrating, and deeply set, surmounted by thick, bushy eyebrows. His manner was restless, and his speech, though intelligent, often coarse. Some of those adjectives will apply as qualities of his leaders.

The old press had its vicissitudes too. It was of the simple old type known amongst printers as the “Columbia,” capable of printing two or three hundred copies per hour. From the Gazette office it passed into the service of one if not two subsequent newspaper offices in Wellington, and then, finding its way to Masterton, there printed the local journal until it and the whole plant were destroyed by a fire. An old pressman who had worked on it from the first then secured its remains, and these were exhibited as an interesting curiosity in the New Zealand Exhibition of 1889–90. I traced these six years ago, lying rusty and uncared-for on a small farm in the neighbourhood of Masterton, but failed in my efforts to secure them.

I have thus given at considerable, and perhaps tiresome, length an account of New Zealand's first newspaper, and specimens of it are here exhibited, as well as of those to which I shall later refer. The curious interest connected with it may be an excuse. Unfortunately, it is not possible within this evening's limit to treat the rest of my subject at similar length. The best mode of pursuing it will be to describe our newspaper literature rather according to locality than the sequence of date.

Continuing, then, with Wellington, the paper above referred to as a rival of the Gazette—though an unsuccessful one—was the New Zealand Colonist and Port Nicholson Advertiser, published twice weekly, at 6d. per copy, or 10s. quarterly, and at a charge of 3s. for an advertisement of six lines and under. Fifty of the aforesaid dissatisfied persons subscribed to its establishment, and Mr. (afterwards Sir) Richard Davies Hanson was its editor. This gentleman was one of the earliest Wellington settlers, and as a solicitor was there appointed Crown Prosecutor. In 1846 he left for Adelaide, and there became Chief Justice of South Australia, and also the first Chancellor of the University. He died in 1876. The first number of the paper appeared on the 2nd August, 1842, and the 105th and last precisely a year later. The increasing depression, together with the calamitous fire of November, 1842, which destroyed fifty-seven

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houses on Lambton Quay, contributed to its early death. Its leaders were well written and free from the rough language so often a feature of the Gazette.

The existence of this paper is barely known; but the direct successor of the Gazette was the New Zealand Spectator and Cook's Straits Guardian, which was the outcome, as above indicated, of a sentiment that the pioneer had forfeited confidence and was no longer a representative mouthpiece. It was conducted by a committee of half a dozen of the principal gentlemen in the settlement, amongst whom were the well-known names of the Hon. Henry Petre, Mr. Clifford, and Mr. Lyon. Mr. Robert Stokes, formerly on the survey staff, was chosen editor; the issue was weekly, and the price, as with the Gazette, 1s. a copy and £2 per annum. The charge for advertisements was, however, soon reduced to 3d. a line. An active canvass resulted in 130 annual subscribers, and with the scanty income so derived, and further supplemented by advertisements, the Spectator commenced on the 12th October, 1844, what proved to be a difficult career. Barely had six months elapsed before a very scandalous advertisement appeared in its columns, followed in the ensuing week by an equally scandalous rejoinder. These were inserted by the printers without the knowledge of the committee, who, ashamed and indignant, removed at once their printing elsewhere. The offending printers were five in number, one of whom (Mr. Thomas Mackenzie) still survives, a very old and well-known citizen of Wellington, and all had been employed on the old Gazette. Without delay they issued a prospectus detailing and justifying the circumstances from their point of view, and accusing the committee of seeking to deprive them of their daily bread. And they did more than this, for on the 2nd April, 1845, they issued the first number of the Wellington Independent, for which they charged but 6d. a copy, considerably reduced the price of advertisements, and published twice a week.

This was carrying reprisals into the enemy's camp with a vengeance; and they were, moreover, well supported by a section of settlers of as good social standing as that of the committee, for, small though the community was, it yet possessed cliques. Mr. Mantell, for instance, son of the eminent geologist, lent his aid by carving several blocks to serve as divisional headings or woodcuts for the paper, which gave it a decidedly quaint and unusual aspect. These he carved from the native wood maire (Olea), which he found to be superior for the purpose to the usual boxwood. It must be confessed that the quantity of printing-ink requisite for these primitive illustrations too often communicated a smudgy appearance to the paper. Though the lofty Spec-

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tator preserved a disdainful silence towards its humble rival, whose existence it deigned not to notice, it was preparing a most effectual means of extinguishing it. This was by purchasing the whole of the Independent's plant over the heads of the unsuspecting printers, who rented it and enjoyed a feeling of security in its unmarketable nature. But suddenly and secretly purchased it was, and on the 9th August, four months after starting their venture, the unlucky printers found themselves again adrift. They told the story to their subscribers in piteous terms whilst taking leave of them in the final issue. But their friends rallied round again and stoutly supported them. Fresh material was procured from Sydney, and in less than four months they jubilantly started anew. From this time onwards the two papers ran side by side as steady rivals for more than twenty years, until by the curious irony of fate the formerly poor persecuted Independent swallowed up or incorporated its more aristocratic opponent, which published its last number—the 2,088th—on the 5th August, 1865. Thus left the master of the situation, for a time at least, the Independent flourished nine years longer, issuing tri-weekly a six-page paper of large size at 3d. per copy, and then, on the 30th April, 1874, it in turn was incorporated with the New Zealand Times, which put forth its first number on the following day and has continued to the present time.

The pages of the two papers formed the arena of many a hard-fought battle in days when fighting was incessant and apparently an enjoyment, and when champions were doughty. In its earliest days the Independent boldly opposed the New Zealand Company and its land-purchasers; later it was a bitter opponent of Governor Grey and his methods, as well as an ardent supporter of Dr. Featherston and Mr. Fox, who were principal contributors to its columns.

An example of one of the many difficulties papers suffered under in those days—shortness of paper—is here exhibited. For many weeks the Spectator was obliged to appear on red blotting-paper, and uncommonly well that porous material appears to have taken the type. Sometimes they were compelled to print on paper of variable size, material, and colour, and specimens are extant printed in green and blue, such as might be used nowadays for handbills. In an early number of the Nelson Examiner the printer makes an earnest appeal to its readers for treacle. He says, “We beg to inform our readers that there is great probability of our press being rendered utterly useless for want of rollers. These are used for inking the formes, and an essential ingredient is treacle, and treacle we have been unable to procure for money. If any of our readers have any of this important article, and will spare

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us some of it for love and money united, we shall be infinitely obliged. We are not very particular as to the price, but treacle we must have, or not only the Examiner, but bills, cheques, and the laws of the benefit society must remain for ever unbedevilled.” It is satisfactory to know that a supply was forthcoming, inasmuch as the following number of the paper appeared on its due date. The old Otago Witness appealed at least once to its readers for paper of any kind, otherwise it would cease to appear; and cease to appear it did. This must surely have been at the time when the grocers requested their customers who required tea and sugar and suchlike incoherent articles to bring their own paper with them.

The Bay of Islands and the earliest Auckland newspapers come next in order, and they present quite a family resemblance in their poorness of paper and printing and meagre contents. The earliest of them—the New Zealand Advertiser and Bay of Islands Gazette—first appeared on the 15th June, 1840, just six months after the institution of British government in these islands, and two months after the birth of its contemporary, the New Zealand Gazette, at Wellington. It has thus the distinction of being the second paper issued in New Zealand. It was published at Kororareka, which adjoined the infant Township of Russell, where Governor Hobson had selected his seat, and it thus became the organ in which were published the first official notices and Proclamations. The Rev. B. Quaife was editor—a Congregational minister, and a gentleman who, in addition to his editorial functions, combined those of preacher and instructor of the young. Whilst the contents of his paper were, as might be expected, eminently respectable, they were undoubtedly poor. The burning question of the hour was the land-claims, which bore a somewhat different aspect from the same question amongst the settlers at Wellington. But in both instances the common ground of complaint was that the Government refused to recognise the validity of any purchase of land from the natives until official inquiry had been made and a Government grant issued—a tedious and expensive process indeed. Whilst this grievance was attacked in the distant south with the utmost vigour and acerbity, in the north it was approached with great circumspection, for there the Government was close by, and its iron hand was felt at once. The two classes of settlers represented, moreover, different types—one whose leaders were of a superior class, accustomed to all the advantages of responsible government and free institutions, which they had but just left, and who in emigrating recognised the true heroism of colonisation; the other who flocked down in numbers from New South Wales, ready to seize any

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advantage in England's newly acquired territory, and glad, no doubt, to escape from the despotism of that Crown colony. It was thus that the land question proved the absorbing theme, to which all others were subsidiary, and that it, and the native connection with it, formed the almost sole politics of daily discussion. Not for long did, or could, Mr. Quaife avoid it, especially as other matters of perhaps more domestic concern, such as police, post-office, &c., were shamefully mismanaged. So, like the proverbial moth, he circled nearer and nearer to his doom, and after the issue of his twenty-seventh number, on the 10th December, which contained various moderate suggestions for reform, he was peremptorily directed to appear before Mr. Shortland, the Colonial Secretary, and threatened with all the pains and penalties of an old New South Wales Act regarding the printing and publishing of seditious newspapers. This meant, and proved to be, the extinction of his paper. To-day we might well ask, How could such things be? A meeting of the inhabitants was called, whereat there was much plain speaking, and it was resolved that a deputation should interview Governor Hobson on the matter and report The late Sir F. Whitaker, then a young and inexperienced man, was one of the number. What the result was I could never learn, but unfavourable, no doubt, for the paper never reappeared

Then followed, in foolscap folio, a rag indeed, called the “New Zealand Government Gazette,” for it was necessary that the Government should have an organ for its notifications. From internal evidence I am inclined to think that the printer of the crushed Advertiser was employed, and that he was permitted to make the best private use of the paper after satisfying official requirements. Comical juxtapositions thus happened—private advertisements for lodgings, salt beef, and other merchandise displayed on the same page as those signed by His Excellency's command; and, in addition, there were a few items of news. It was published gratis, which, remembering the mode in which it rose from the ashes of its predecessor, seems enough. With the exception of the “Gazette Extraordinary” of the 30th December, 1840, which was really the first number, and printed at Paihia on the Church Mission press, it was issued at Kororareka from the 19th February, 1841, until the 15th July, nineteen numbers in all, and then it was superseded, at Auckland, on the 7th July, by the publication which has descended to us from that date, and is known to us all as the “New Zealand Government Gazette.”

It would appear that, though scotched, the Rev. B. Quaife was not killed, and had not forgiven the infliction of his old injuries. A company was soon projected, himself amongst the number, to protect the interests of the public from, as they

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phrased it, the “continuous misrule and indifference of the Government,” and their mouthpiece, the Bay of Islands Observer, accordingly made its first appearance on the 24th February, 1842—price 1s, a number, or 10s. quarterly, and 3s. 6d. for twelve lines of advertisement. Mr. Quaife, who was again editor, no longer approached abuses in a gentle, indirect manner, but handled them with so much candour and bluntness as to find himself and his company in danger of an action for libel, which was only averted by humble confession and apology. A little later—in October—and in its 39th number, it ceased to exist, deploring the little aid it had received from subscribers and the public.

More than a year now elapsed before the Bay of Islands Advocate published its first number, on the 4th November, 1843. Little need be said of it. It indulged in personalities, and was mourned by no one when it closed its short existence of three months in February, 1844. With it ends the list of Bay of Islands newspapers—four of them, with an average life of ten months each, surely an unusual record.

The Bay of Islands had always been the notable point of New Zealand. Its praises as a harbour and its beauty had been sung by Captain Cook, and after him it formed the rendezvous for whalers and the numerous shipping from Sydney, with which it was the proximate point. It was also the headquarters of the Church Mission, and thus it came to be selected as the seat of Government. But for this it was entirely unsuited, and after considerable search for a better site the British flag was finally unfurled on the banks of the Waitemata on the 19th September, 1840, at future Auckland. Then the glory of Kororareka began to depart, despite the hopes and efforts made to retain it, and the flocks that came down with Governor Hobson from New South Wales now took fresh wing to the newly selected capital, where the Governor began his permanent residence not earlier than March of 1841.

On the 10th July in the same year, at the usual old price of 1s. per copy, the first of Auckland's numerous newspapers appeared, the New Zealand Herald and Auckland Gazette, which has the distinction of being the third in order of New Zealand journals. Like its fellows in the farther north, its career was short and stormy, though at first seeming to possess the requisites of longer life and prosperity, and its promoters ought surely to have gained experience enough to avoid the rocks which had already caused so much disaster. Quite an extensive plant of printing material was brought down from Sydney, as well as a staff of pressmen for working it, amongst whom are names well known in early history—Mr. John Williamson, for instance, the first Superintendent of Auck-

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land and editor of the New-Zealander, Mr. Wilson, of the New Zealand Herald, and others. The whole was the property of a company called the “Auckland Printing Company,” under the management of another well-known name, J. C. Moore. The newspaper, however, with which we are concerned was a branch or part of the business, and its affairs were intrusted to four gentlemen, also well known—Major Richmond, Dr. Johnson, Mr. Moutefiore, and Mr. William Mason, the latter of whom is well known to us as the first Mayor of Dunedin and member of the firm of Mason and Wales, architects. These gentlemen assisted the editor, Mr. Corbett, Mr. Montefiore, however, doing by far the most of the writing; but they knew nothing of newspapers, and failed to recognise how largely their success depended on advertisements. Moreover, the paper rather represented the views and desires of a Government chique than the needs of the public, and thus, receiving no sympathy, it soon showed signs of failure.

They then procured from Sydney the services of Dr. Martin, a medical man of considerable literary ability, forcible utterance, and powerful frame. Prior to colonisation he had been in New Zealand on a land-hunting quest, but, like so many others, had returned to New South Wales in high disgust when it became evident that the Government treated all so-called land-claims with a high hand and no favour. It will thus be conceived that, though the paper increased in literary ability, the chances of its survival were diminished. And so it speedily proved. Dr. Martin wrote with an iron pen, and laid about him with such flail-like agility that before two months had elapsed he was threatened with two or three actions for libel. Matters culminated when one day Mr. Fitzgerald, a Government official, Registrar of Lands and the Supreme Court, entered the office and seized from the printer, under threat of pains and penalties, some of the editors' manuscripts. Dr. Martin was furious, and, failing to secure the return of his property, challenged Mr. Fitzgerald to fight a duel. This the latter refused, and Dr. Martin thereupon posted him in various parts of the town as a blackguard and coward. The further details of this sanguinary business I do not here pursue, but before its termination it became a very pretty quarrel indeed, involving not only the officers of the garrison, but also such peaceable citizens as the late Dr. Shortland, so well known as the author of various works connected with old New Zealand history, and the present Dr. John Logan Campbell, now Mayor of Auckland.

The trustees of the paper grew penitent, finding too late that they had indeed replaced King Log by King Stork. Whilst they insisted that the paper should in the meantime be reduced to a mere advertisement sheet, supplemented with

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newspaper clippings, their fighting editor insisted that the appearance of his articles was more than ever desirable. And so amidst this wild tumult Auckland's first paper ended in April, 1842, after ten months' existence. The whole printing plant of the company and the copyright of its defunct paper—quoad valeat—were sold by auction to the Government for £1,700, and remained under the management of the same printer, J. C. Moore.

Upon its ruins, and in a week's time, was erected the Auckland Standard, the second paper, and issued presumably in the interests of the Government, as might be expected. Yet, curious to say, it was not wholly so, for government in those days was not of the responsible type, and many of its supporters were half-hearted, swaying the balance according to personal interest. Besides, Governor Hobson was not entirely popular. Though strictly honourable and of high integrity, his manner was often overbearing and passionate, and had much of the quarter-deck character. The same may be said of his chief officials, Lieutenant Shortland and Mr. Coates.

The Standard was edited by Mr. William Swainson, who had recently arrived at Auckland under appointment as Attorney-General by the British Government. The prevailing fatality of early extinction befell it also, and on the 28th August, 1842, after but four months' struggle, the Standard also departed, mournfully deploring its own exit and the gloom which seemed gathering over the whole community.

Now appeared, on the 5th September, 1842, what surely was—or after the publication of its first few numbers was—the most extraordinary-looking paper ever printed. This was the Auckland Times, owned and edited by Mr. Henry Falwasser, formerly a storekeeper or merchant in Sydney, whose sister married the Rev. J. F. Churton, the first Auckland clergyman. At first it was printed by the accommodating Mr. John Moore on the type the Government had so recently purchased; but, whether any suspicion arose as to Mr. Falwasser's ability to pay for the printing or as to the doubtful odour of his articles, it is certain that Lieutenant Willoughby Shortland, then the Acting-Governor, speedily stepped in and stopped the paper somewhere about the tenth number. But Mr. Falwasser was a man of ingenuity and resource. From any quarter he gathered a miscellaneous assortment of old type, such as is mostly used for printing bill-heads and rough jobs, and, with the aid of a mangle and coarse paper, triumphantly produced these weekly specimens now regarded as such a curiosity. His original motto had been “Veluti in speculum”; now he changed it to “Tempora mutantur—nos non mutamur in illis.” His imprint was: “Auckland: Printed

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(in a mangle) and published by Henry Falwasser, sole Editor and Proprietor.” It is plain from the specimens here shown that the compression of the mangle varied much: sometimes it was so violent as to drive the ink through the paper, so that the letterpress can there be read by reversal, and sometimes it is so faint as to be barely legible. Words were printed with letters of various type, so that small capitals, italics, and old English met together in the same word, producing a most comical and mystifying result. If not a confusion of tongues, it was certainly a confusion of letters. of course, the paper afforded great amusement, and doubtless had a good circulation, especially as it lashed out to the complete satisfaction of the public. Its comical characteristics and scanty pages no doubt protected it from the fiery persecution of those days, especially as the numbers were issued gratis until, as the editor assured his readers, proper type and paper could be procured from Sydney. But gradually its strange appearance improved with the occasional addition of a little new-found type, better paper, and better handling of the mangle, until, in its forty-second number, on the 13th April, 1843, it said farewell in quite a presentable form. On the 7th November it reappeared in legitimate form and in its new Sydney dress, once a week, and continued in its former hearty and independent style until the 17th January, 1846, when its 159th number was issued. A week later Henry Falwasser died, and with him ceased his journal, which, with all its vicissitudes, almost equalled in duration the united age of its predecessors.

The last of this class of old Auckland newspapers was the Auckland Chronicle and New Zealand Colonist, which put forth its first number on the 8th November, 1841, and shortly afterwards ceased, but when I have not been able to discover. Its second appearance, however, was on the 12th November, 1842, and in September, 1843, it commenced its second volume. It was printed by the usual John Moore in the interests of the Government, and was thus doubly obnoxious to the “mangle,” which sneeringly spoke of it as “that administerial thing called ‘the Chronicle'—bah!” In return the Chronicle dubbed its rival “The Old Lady of the Mangle,” and advertised: “For sale, a mangle; apply to the proprietor of the Auckland Times.” These little endearments were continuous, and it must be allowed that the “mangle” won the honours. Mr. John Kitchen—“which was where he came from,” as Mr. Falwasser said—was editor of the Chronicle, and had previously been on the United Service Gazette. After leaving New Zealand he went to Hobart and Melbourne as a shorthand reporter. The final fate of this paper I have not been able to learn, but conclude that it must have closed its career early

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in 1845. The Southern Cross in its first number was very bitter with it, and indulged on the occasion in one of those newspaper amenities which were then so common. One of its bitter references was: “For sale or hire, in about a fortnight, a defunct Government engine used for stifling the fire of the people; rather shaky, having lately stuck fast in the swamp of Queen Street.… Has been well greased lately, its head turning with marvellous facility in any direction. Apply at the Chronicle office.”

I have now to say a few words regarding the Southern Cross and the New-Zealander, and with them can close the reference to the early Auckland papers. Both were of, or soon assumed, a very different and superior character from their predecessors, of whom so little can be said beyond a mere cataloguing, and both form a link connecting the old with the modern newspaper literature.

Dr. Martin, it will be remembered, terminated the existence of the old Herald, much against his will, in April, 1842, when the plant was sold to the Government. He was, as we have seen, highly indignant with the weak-kneed proprietors of that journal, and his first act was to bring an action against them for breach of his engagement as their editor. This he won, and £640 was awarded him. He further relieved his wounded feelings by writing a little pamphlet or letter, now extremely rare, addressed to Lord Stanley, then the Principal Secretary of State for the Colonies, entitled “New Zealand in 1842; or the Effects of a Bad Government on a Good Country.” This pamphlet of thirty-two pages, 8vo, may, I think, be considered the first pamphlet printed in New Zealand. No longer restrained by interference with the freedom of the Press, or Newspaper Acts, or charge of libel, he here writes to his heart's content and in his most vigorous style. His next step was to receive type and press, and on the 22nd April, 1843, appeared the Southern Cross, New Zealand Guardian, and Auckland, Thames, and Bay of Islands Advertiser. The motto chosen was “Luceo non Uro”; but, as we can well fancy, it would have been better “Luceo non Uro.” The proprietor was Mr. William Brown, of the well-known firm of Brown and Campbell, a gentleman of wealth, attainments, and true citizenship. The old shanty in which it was printed was in Shortland Crescent, where I saw it about twelve years ago on the point of removal. Dr. Campbell gave me at the time much information regarding the history of the paper.

In 1844 Dr. Martin and Mr. Brown visited the Home-country—the former never to return—leaving the charge of the paper in Dr. Campbell's hands, Mr. Terry editing it, at a considerable loss, however. Dr. Campbell accordingly de-

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cided to stop publication in April, 1845, and it was not resumed until July, 1847, upon Mr. Brown's return. In May, 1862, it became a daily paper, and shortly afterwards was sold by Mr. Brown to Mr. (afterwards Sir) Julius Vogel and his company, and was again sold in 1876 to Mr. Horton, and was soon afterwards amalgamated with the New Zealand Herald, belonging to Messrs. Wilson and Horton, who still own and conduct it, one of the leading and best journals in the colony.

During Mr. Brown's proprietorship the paper never paid. From first to last he lost £10,000 in it, and it was always making enemies; “nor was it conducted,” says Dr. Campbell, “on commercial principles”

A final word may be said of Dr. Martin. He went Home a disappointed man, and there remained until he received the appointment of Stipendiary Magistrate in British Guiana. He died near Berbice on the 10th September, 1848.

The New-Zealander was fortunate in starting just after the temporary cessation of the Southern Cross, and on the 7th June, 1845. It belonged to Mr. Williamson, so well known in early New Zealand politics. He was soon joined in partnership by Mr. W. C. Wilson, and the two composed a firm long and well known as the printers of nearly every publication that issued from the Auckland Press. Amongst its editors and contributors were many men of note in New Zealand, such as Dr. Bennett, afterwards Registrar-General; Rev. T. S. For-saith, of “white-shirt Ministry” fame; Dr. Giles, afterwards editor of the Southern Monthly Magazine; Mr. (now Sir John) Gorst, and many others.

Mr. Elliott tells me that Dr. Bennett, whilst of peculiar appearance, was of remarkable eloquence. He came down to Wellington, where he was almost unknown, about the time when the Duke of Edinburgh so narrowly escaped from the hands of the Sydney assassin, O'Farrell. A meeting of congratulation and sympathy was held on the occasion, at which the late Mr. FitzGerald made so eloquent a speech that other speakers were afraid to follow. In this difficulty one or two recognised the stranger's presence, and in a moment there was a cry of “Bennett! Bennett!” Dr. Bennett rose and delivered so brilliant a speech as quite to pale the fires of his predecessor. Such was his introduction to his new duties in Wellington.

The New-Zealander had the distinction of starting as the first morning penny paper on the 3rd April, 1865. A year later—in 1866—it closed publication

An incident in the early life of the New-Zealander must not here be omitted. An article on Heke's war gave great offence to the naval men, who considered their honour con-

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siderably tarnished thereby. Accordingly, armed with a hawser, a large number of sailors belonging to the warships in Auckland Harbour unexpectedly appeared at the door of the New-Zealander office in Shortland Crescent, through which they passed their rope to the back and then over the roof. A full retractation was demanded, failing which the building would be overturned. The beleaguered inmates, Messrs. Williamson and Wilson, yielded the point. But how, again the question may be asked, could such things be? What a liberty, or license, has been granted the Press during the last sixty years!

These two papers, comprising as they do more than a period of twenty years each, and dealing with the great transition period of New Zealand history, are laden with interest. Time forbids me just now to prolong this sketch of Auckland papers, and of even referring by name to several others which, though of less note, are yet old.

The next section in point of order is that of Nelson, like Wellington, a settlement of the New Zealand Company; like it, too, in that the first settlers came well provided with type and press, and, still further, with men of great literary ability. Hence it is that the Nelson Examiner and New Zealand Chronicle must be considered as by far the best and most literary of all the early journals, at least in its early existence. It was the property of Messrs. Charles and James Elliott, who had been previously engaged on the Morning Chronicle. The first editor was Mr. George Rycroft Richardson, a lawyer, who was afterwards killed at the Wairau massacre in June, 1843. The first number of the paper appeared on the 12th March, 1842, at the usual price of 1s., or £2 per annum.

Mr. Alfred Domett, that eminent New Zealand settler, succeeded to the editorship, and it is needless to say that in his hands the paper assumed a still higher character. The leaders can be read to-day with pleasure and profit. One is tempted to introduce extracts from some of them, but this is not the time or place to do so. Suffice it to say that they aimed higher than merely discussing the position and requirements of the settlers. Such important matters were never neglected, but they were discussed with a freedom from dogmatism and a respect for the opinions of others which conferred on them a power and force of conviction which belonged to no other paper in the colony. Always the readers were kept in touch with the important questions of politics and progress in the home which they had left. This was only what might be expected from one of Mr. Domett's ability. As we know, he was the friend of Browning, and the “Waring” of his well-known poem. Perhaps we know him better as the author of that New Zealand day-dream

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“Ranolf and Amohia,” and as one of our foremost early legislators and eminent colonists.

But Domett was not the only one whose name is inscribed on the roll of New Zealand history, and who contributed to make the Examiner what it was. The names of Dr. David Monro, William Fox, Dillon Bell, Richmond, Dr. Greenwood, and others must be added. And when these able men, as they were sure to do, went to other parts of the colony to discharge the high duties required from them by the advancement of New Zealand, then the paper gradually became an echo of its former self, and it expired in, I think, 1873.

I have by no means exhausted my subject, and must return to it. It was only when beginning to treat this second part that I realised its extent, and that it must be treated separately and alone from that higher class of literature which only developed later, and to which I hope yet to devote attention.

I will close my lecture with a few words of reference to New Plymouth, which, unlike its sister-settlements of Wellington and Nelson, brought with it no press provision. This was because its early settlers were not of the same superior and cultivated class. The bulk of them were small farmers and labourers from Devon and Cornwall, sober, industrious, and persevering men, than whom no part of New Zealand had better. of course, such men as Thomas King, Charles Brown, and the Richmonds stood out in bright relief as men of culture, but they were few. Then came the Constitution in 1852; this made a newspaper necessary, and the requirement was satisfied by the Taranaki Herald, which first appeared on the 4th August, 1852, under the editorship of Mr. Wicksteed and Mr. Crompton for a short time, and then of Mr. Richard Pheney, a very clever and gifted man. Prior to its publication a board placed in a conspicuous position, and with any notices or notifications affixed in writing, did the duty of a newspaper. The Herald was until recently under the journalistic control of Mr. W. H. J. Seffern, who died last year.

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Art. VII.—On the Recent Statistics of Insanity, Cancer, and Phthisis in New Zealand..

Plates II.-IV.

[Read before the Auckland Institute, 2nd September, 1901.]

I Have previously pointed out the rapid way in which the age-distribution of the population of New Zealand is changing.* Because of this rapidity of change in the population, numbers giving the proportion which those subject to any disease or infirmity bear to the whole population at different times are of little or no service for purposes of comparison unless the people of all ages are about equally subject to the complaint. If people of certain ages have more than the average liability to the disease, an increase in the proportion which the number of people of those ages bears to the whole population must tend to increase the proportion of the population subject to that particular affliction.

It follows that, for the proper investigation of the progress of any affection during any period, we must consider the extent to which each section of the people of about the same age has been affected by it during the period. This work I have carried out for insanity, cancer, and phthisis, three affections which, as they afflict severally a greater number of the human race than almost any other single disease, are likewise more the objects of popular interest than any others. With respect to each of them I have taken, for each sex and for various age-periods, the statistics for each year from 1879 to 1898, and have grouped them in five-year periods, each having a census year as the central year. I have then taken the averages for each period of five years and compared them with the populations of the same sex included in the various age-periods at the corresponding censuses. The results are, I think, of considerable interest, and will be described in the following sections.

There is no attempt made to institute comparisons with other countries. Such comparisons are of little value unless the statistics of each country are treated in some such way as that I have used in treating New Zealand; for the same reason that makes this method of treatment necessary in

[Footnote] * “The Population of New Zealand” (Trans. N.Z. Inst., vol. xxxiii., p. 453).

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properly comparing the statistics of the same country for different years—that is, the difference in the age-distribution of the population—makes it necessary also in comparing the statistics of one country with those of another. Unfortunately, the necessary data for dealing in this manner with the statistics of any other country are not available in Auckland, and the work, therefore, cannot be attempted, though the results to which it would lead would be, I believe, of supreme interest.


The New Zealand official Year-book tells us that the proportion which the inmates of the lunatic asylums of the colony, and those out on trial, bear to the whole population changed from 1 in every 383 of population in the year 1884 to 1 in every 288 in 1900, this being equivalent to an increase, relative to the whole population, of about 33 per cent. in sixteen years. The change was regular and continuous from year to year, and was not confined merely to the period just referred to.

On the strength of these and similar figures alarmist articles on the great increase of insanity frequently appear in our newspapers and magazines, and the greater strain of modern competition and the unhealthy conditions of city life are generally assigned as the chief causes. But others doubt the reality of so great an increase in insanity, and these suggest that the large number of good asylums, with the greater use made of those institutions, consequent upon the increased consideration shown for those suspected of insanity, may be responsible for much or all of the apparent increase, whilst the inclusion of a greater number of mental maladies under the head of “insanity” may still further tend to swell the numbers which so affright us. In any case, it appears generally accepted that, without these or similar explanations, the statistics of insanity indicate a continued increase in the modern man of liability to that mental disorder.

Now, I propose to show that the statistics of New Zealand do not indicate any real increase in liability to insanity, even if the numbers returned be taken as the proper measure of the amount of insanity in the colony. For this purpose I shall take the yearly admissions into the various lunatic asylums of the colony. As these will be classified according to age, it is necessary to leave out of consideration the small number of patients of age unknown, but this will not appreciably vitiate the results. The statistics must also be taken as given in the annual volumes of statistics issued by the Government—that is, with the idiotic included amongst the insane. The number

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of the former class, however, bears but a comparatively small ratio to that of the latter.

Table I. represents the results obtained in the manner described in the introduction.

[The section below cannot be correctly rendered as it contains complex formatting. See the image of the page for a more accurate rendering.]

Table I.—Average Yearly Number of Patients Received into the Various Lunatic Asylums in the Colony Per 10,000 of Population of each Sex of Various Age Periods.
Males. Females.
Ages. 1879–83. 1884–88. 1889–93. 1894–98. 1879–83 1884–88. 1889–93. 1894–98.
0–5 0.0 00 0.0 0.0 0.0 0.1 0.0 0.0
5–10 0.5 0.5 0.2 0.3 0.4 0.2 0.4 0.3
10–15 1.3 0.9 0.9 0.7 0.9 0.4 0.7 0.6
15–25 7.1 5.5 4.9 6.3 6.9 5.7 4.1 5.1
25–35 16.8 13.2 13.3 12.9 139 13.2 10.4 10.0
35–45 18.9 17.7 15.2 16.7 18.6 12.6 13.7 157
45–55 17.5 15.0 14.3 15.2 14.4 13.3 15.9 18.2
55–65 17.7 14.8 13.1 16.2 11.7 10.8 9.6 13.6
65 and over 15.7 15.7 18.5 19.5 10.2 10.8 12.0 12.8

The results given in this table for the first and last of the four periods considered are illustrated graphically in Plate II.

Comparing generally the figures given in this table for the two sexes, it appears that there is little difference for the sexes for ages up to 55 years, but after that the tendency to insanity is markedly greater in males than in females.

With respect to the males, it may further be noted that there was actually, during the whole period, a diminution in the number of patients supplied for each 10,000 of population for all ages up to 65; only for ages 65 and over is there an increase, and this is from 15.7 to 19.5. Further, during the years 1879–83 there were 1,207 male patients of known age received into the various asylums, and during the years 1894–98 the number was 1,508; but, if the populations of the various age-periods had supplied patients in the latter period in the same proportion to their numbers as in the former, the number of admissions from 1894 to 1898 would have been as many as 1,771. Thus the statistics, if they fairly correctly represent the amount of insanity, indicate an undoubted substantial diminution in the chance of insanity for the average male.

In the case of females there was, during the period considered, a diminution in the number of fresh cases of insanity relative to the population for all ages up to 45; in the three

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age-periods above this age, however, there was an increase. But the earlier age-periods supply so few patients that it is not apparent from these facts alone whether on the whole there was a true increase or decrease of insanity amongst females. We find, however, that during the years 1879–83 there were 739 female patients of known age received into the various asylums, and during the years 1894–98 the number was 1,095; but, if the populations of the various age-periods had supplied patients in the latter period in the same proportion to their numbers as in the former period, the number of admissions from 1894 to 1898 would have been as many as 1,230. Thus we get with respect to females a result, as far as the figures are concerned, like to that we formerly obtained for males—namely, an undoubted falling-off in liability to insanity. The same result thus follows for the population as a whole.

To what degree of correctness the statistics represent the actual state of things is another question, into which I do not propose to enter; but the concern about the increase of insanity, which inspires so many articles, is founded on the figures as roughly put in statistical works, and I have shown that these figures, properly interpreted, afford no justification whatever for the inference usually deduced from them, but rather indicate a strong tendency in the direction of growing sanity.

If the reasons usually assigned to explain the commonly supposed increase in the tendency to insanity have really any force, if many are now classed as insane that would not have been so classed some years ago, and if many are now placed in institutions for the care of the insane that some time since would not have been so provided for, then there must indeed have been in recent years a very real and very marked diminution in the liability of the New-Zealander to insanity, in spite of modern competition and the disadvantages of city life. In fact, explanations are now wanted to account for statistics indicating a falling-off, and not a growth, in the tendency of the race to insanity.

Thus far we have considered only the yearly contribution of the colony to the total insane population, and it may not be yet quite clear how it is that the total insane population is increasing so much more rapidly than the population as a whole. The explanation lies in the great changes taking place in the age - distribution of the people, which has been fully explained in the paper already referred to.

Table I. shows that there is no great liability to insanity till about the age of 25, whilst after that age there is no very great change in this liability; indeed, the number of insane

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persons under the age of 15 might, for most purposes, be entirely neglected. Now, whereas the total population of the colony increased between 1881 and 1896 by 43.8 per cent., the population in some of the later age-periods considered as much as trebled. Further, the number of people that become insane in any age-period during any year, as represented in Table I., does not represent the number actually insane in that age-period, for that number includes the survivors of all those belonging to that age-period who became insane in previous years and failed to recover. Thus the number of insane in any section of the people is cumulative relatively to the population, and the number of insane per 10,000 of the population must increase rapidly in the age-periods of maturity as we rise from one age-period to a higher one. This is quite distinct from the liability of sane persons at those ages to develope insanity, and, with the rapidly increasing proportion of the whole population included in the later age-periods, completely explains the continually growing proportion of the population that are afflicted with insanity. Considerations brought forward in the paper already referred to, leading us to expect a continued rapid increase for many years to come in the proportion that the old bear to the whole population, also lead us to expect a similar increase with respect to the insane, and this without the aid of any increased liability of the race to insanity, and possibly even in spite of a falling-off in such liability.


The statistics of cancer as commonly presented make it appear that that relentless disease is increasing its ravages at a rate that is somewhat horrifying. In the year 1879 there were 118 deaths from cancer, forming 2.11 of the whole number of deaths, and being at the rate of 2.63 deaths per 10,000 of population, whilst in 1898 the number of deaths from cancer was 471, forming 6.50 of the whole number of deaths, and being at the rate of 6.40 deaths per 10,000 of population. The number of deaths from cancer thus increased some two and a half times relatively to the population during the period of twenty years under consideration. We shall apply, however, the same kind of analysis as that just used for the case of insanity; and the results, though not yielding a conclusion just the reverse of the popular notion, as in the case of insanity, will still be found to considerably modify the estimate generally formed of the progress of this disease.

Table II. presents the results obtained in the manner already described.

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[The section below cannot be correctly rendered as it contains complex formatting. See the image of the page for a more accurate rendering.]

Table II.—Average Yearly Number of Deaths from Cancer Per 10,000 of Population of each Sex of Various Age-Periods.
Males. Females.
Ages. 1879–83. 1884–88. 1889–93. 1894–98. 1879–83. 1884–88. 1889–93. 1894–98.
0.5 0.2 0.2 0.4 02 0.3 0.0 0.2 0.1
5–10 0.0 02 0.1 0.1 01 0.0 0.1 0.2
10–15 0.0 0.1 0.1 0.1 0.1 01 0.1 0.1
15–20 01 0.3 0.3 0.2 00 01 0.0 0.1
20–25 06 0.3 0.6 0.4 0.1 0.1 0.3 0.3
25–30 0.4 0.9 06 03 0.9 0.6 0.5 0.8
30–35 1.1 0.9 07 1.0 2.1 2.6 2.2 2.4
35–40 1.5 1.5 25 2.3 42 4.3 53 45
40–45 4.2 4.9 4.3 5.5 8.9 9.7 10.1 102
45–50 7.2 9.2 8.6 9.9 14.9 15.3 12.5 20.3
50–55 11.9 13.7 16.3 17.4 208 24.3 226 22.0
55–60 17.5 22.3 24.1 29.0 29.7 336 34.1 35.4
60–65 20.1 31.7 39.5 43.4 27.7 34.0 36.7 40.1
65–70 342 42.8 52.8 47.7 458 36.7 60.1 47.1
70–75 23.8 44.5 58.4 64.0 373 517 39.4 535
75–80 48.2 46.8 58.8 77.0 58.4 47–4 55.6 64.8
80 and over 31.1 38.1 44.6 42.8 38.2 51.3 31.8 36.4

The results given in this table for ages 30 and over, and for the first and last of the four periods considered, are illustrated graphically in Plate III. For ages under 30 the numbers of cases are too small to give fair averages.

The figures of this table show that from 30 to 60 years of age females are more subject to the disease than males; indeed, between the ages of 30 and 50 the chance of dying of cancer is about double in the case of the female of what it is in the male, but after the age of 60 there is an opposite tendency, though one not so marked.

In this table, it may be further noted, the results for ages up to 30 years indicate how small is the chance of death from cancer at those ages compared with subsequent ages, but are otherwise of little service, the number of deaths being too small to give a fair average.

From the age of 40 in males and 35 in females the number of deaths from cancer is considerable for each age-period, and is generally the greater the greater the age, with the exception that, after the age 80 years, there appears to be a falling-off in liability to death from this complaint.

Thus cancer is eminently a disease associated with degeneration, and most commonly afflicts the aged. Consequently much of what has been said with respect to insanity will apply to cancer, and we are thus prepared to find that much of the apparent increase in cancer is due really to a relative

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increase in that portion of the population most liable to suffer from its inroads—namely, the aged. But we are not so fortunate in this case as to find the whole increase thus explained, with a credit balance on the other side. There is undeniably an increase in cancer, as represented by statistics. This is generally, however, not nearly so great as would appear at first from the simple statements with the quotation of which this section opened. The increase in cancer, as properly represented by statistics, is thus more capable of being explained away by the reasons that have been given from time to time for its apparent increase in New Zealand and elsewhere. The Registrar-General of England, for instance, expressed the opinion that part of the increase was due to improved diagnosis and more careful statement of cause, in support of which opinion he pointed out the greater proportionate apparent increase in the deaths of males from cancer, a fact plainly apparent for the case of New Zealand in Table II. This disproportionate increase for the two sexes he explained as being due to the fact that “the cancerous affections of males are in much larger proportion internal or inaccessible than those of females, and consequently are more difficult of recognition, so that any improvement in medical diagnosis would add more to the male than to the female figures.” Whether all or how much of the apparent increase in liability to deaths from cancer can be explained by these suggestions of the Registrar-General of England is a matter, however, on which I cannot venture to express an opinion.


Phthisis, commonly known simply as consumption, has of late excited none of that alarmed interest that has centred round insanity and cancer; it has supplied no startling figures appearing to indicate irresistible conquest. At the beginning of the period we are considering, in the year 1879, the number of deaths from phthisis was 399, or 8.90 per 10,000 of population, while in 1898 the number of deaths was 597, but only 8.11 per 10,000 of population. These figures in themselves should not, however, be taken to indicate a real decrease in liability to death from phthisis. As far as these figures go, the relatively smaller number of deaths from phthisis might be due to the section of the population of those ages most liable to death from phthisis forming more recently a smaller proportion of the whole population. To draw proper conclusions we must proceed to a more detailed analysis.

Table III. exhibits the result of applying the same method as that already applied to the other two diseases.

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[The section below cannot be correctly rendered as it contains complex formatting. See the image of the page for a more accurate rendering.]

Table III.—Average-Yearly Number of Deaths From Phthisis Per 10,000 of Population of Each Sex of Various Age-Periods.
Ages. Males Females.
1879—83 1884–88. 1889–93. 1894–98. 1879–83. 1884–88. 1889–93. 1894–98.
0–5 2.0 1.3 0.6 0.8 2.2 1.6 15 0.8
5–10 05 0.5 0.3 0.3 1.2 1.3 0.7 0.3
10–15 0.9 09 1 1 10 2.9 2.6 1.8 18
15–20 7.2 7.0 5.8 46 10.5 9.7 107 11.4
20–25 15.6 173 14.2 150 163 17.0 166 14.5
25–30 166 19.1 18 1 14.3 21.8 15.2 16.0 14.5
30–35 185 16.9 14.0 13.4 18.2 19.1 15.3 13.5
35–40 17.7 156 15.3 14.0 15.6 15.4 15.4 14.3
40–45 14.9 14.4 13.0 11.5 14.4 10.8 101 13.3
45–50 16.2 15.6 14.2 11.6 12.5 101 110 9.4
50–55 13.6 17.2 14.3 133 9.6 9.7 12.3 7.3
55–60 233 159 16.1 13.6 148 9.5 107 88
60–65 14.3 15.8 15.3 17.7 7.1 8.2 8.1 8.3
65–70 16.0 13.8 15.9 17.6 5.9 94 6.2 6.9
70–75 85 7.6 13.6 112 2.2 4.9 3.2 1.8
75–80 10.3 7.0 50 14.1 0.0 3.0 8.5 5.8
80 and over 00 7.6 5.6 8.2 7.6 00 0.0 4.6

The results given in this table for ages up to 65, and for the first and last of the four periods considered, are illustrated graphically in Plate IV. For ages over 65 the numbers of cases are too small to give fair averages.

This table shows that during the ages from 10 to 20 females are much more liable to death from phthisis than males, but from 45 onwards the position is more than reversed.

Phthisis is often regarded as a disease of youth, but this table shows that though this is the case to a considerable extent for females, yet for males from the age of 20 years, when the chance of death from phthisis first becomes considerable, it remains comparatively constant up to the age of 70 years, when a decrease sets in.

Leaving out of further consideration the ages 65 and over, because of the comparatively small number of cases they supply, we see that for other ages the number of deaths per 10,000 of population fell off during the period under consideration for the great majority of age-periods. In fact, in the case of males the only age-period showing an appreciable increase was that of 60—65, and in the case of females the only age-periods showing an increase were those of 15—20 and 60—65, and the increases in both these cases were comparatively slight.

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Thus, on the whole, there was during the period a very gratifying falling-off in the ravages made by this insidious disease.


It is somewhat beyond my province to attempt to comment on the figures I have brought forward from a point of view that should be left to the medical expert. My only object has been to present the statistics of the three diseases in the manner in which I think they should be presented, and one that leads to the possibility of sound and not fallacious inference. My only regret is that I have not been able, from lack of material, to extend the investigation to other populations than that of our own colony. If others with the available material to hand will take up the work, I am convinced they will succeed in obtaining results of supreme interest to all who are interested in statistics so closely concerned with the health and welfare of the race.

Art. VIII.—On some Relics of the Moriori Race..

[Read before the Philosophical Institute of Canterbury, 2nd October, 1901.]

Plates V. and VI.

The Moriori race is already on the verge of extinction, and at the time of my visit to Chatham Island, in January, 1901, there were only about a dozen pure-blooded individuals remaining, some of whom were of great age, while the youngest was a lad of about sixteen. Under these circumstances it must be considered as extremely fortunate that any reliable record of this interesting people has been preserved. That such is the case is due chiefly to the energy and enthusiasm of Mr. Alexander Shand, who for more than thirty years has lived amongst the Morioris, and has made a special study not only of that race, but likewise of their Maori conquerors. Mr. Shand, whose acquaintance I first had the pleasure of making at his home on the island, has published a series of very valuable papers on the subject in the Journal of the Polynesian Society, from which, as well as from my personal intercourse with the author, much of my information has been derived.

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It appears from their language, customs, and traditions, as well as from their physical characteristics, that the Morioris were closely related to the New Zealand Maoris, from whom, indeed, none but an expert could distinguish them, though Mr. Shand considers that they are, if anything, a shade darker and perhaps even more of a Jewish cast. Mr. Travers, in his extremely interesting paper on the “Traditions and Customs of the Morioris,”** gives good reasons for believing that they are of mixed origin.

The discovery of the island, known to the Morioris themselves as RĕOkŏKhu, in 1790 by the brig “Chatham” may be said to have sealed the fate of these unfortunate people, though it is doubtful whether any serious injury ensued until the advent of the whaling and sealing vessels in 1828. These vessels took many undesirable visitors to the island, and probably introduced a disease which soon played havoc with the native race. On board some of these vessels were Maoris from New Zealand, who, on their return, painted such a glowing picture of the land of plenty that a large number of their fellow-countrymen determined to emigrate to Chatham Island—or, as they called it, Wharekauri—en masse. In order to effect this purpose they took possession of the brig “Rodney” at Port Nicholson about the beginning of November, 1835, seizing the crew and by fair means or foul compelling the captain to take them to the island, whither, in two trips, about nine hundred Maoris were transported and let loose upon the unfortunate inhabitants, already decimated by some virulent disease.

Those who are fond of extolling the virtues of the Maori race would do well to study the history of their occupation of Chatham Island. At the time of the invasion the Morioris are said to have numbered some two thousand, and had they attacked the new-comers on their first arrival, when they were too weak from the effects of their voyage to resist, they might have exterminated them with little trouble. Unfortunately for themselves, however, the Morioris had lost the noble art of self-defence; killing was forbidden by their laws, and, like the wingless birds of New Zealand, they fell an easy prey to the first enemy. The invaders proceeded to parcel out the country amongst themselves, claiming not only the land but also the inhabitants thereof, who were speedily reduced to the condition of slaves and put to hard labour for their brutal masters. Mr. Shand tells us how “Te Wharekura, of Te Raki, with his hapu, killed and roasted fifty Morioris in one—it might have been more than one—for no reason what-ever that could be assigned”; while at Waitangi one Tikaokao

[Footnote] ** Trans. N.Z. Inst., vol. ix., p. 15.

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and others massacred men, women, and children of the conquered race, and laid them out on the sandy beach touching one another, some of the women being left to die with stakes thrust into them.

It may be of interest to compare with this account the brief remarks on the Moriori race made by the Bishop of New Zealand, who visited Chatham Island in 1848: “In appearance they are not very different from the New-Zealanders, and their language at the time of the invasion (about ten years ago) was perfectly intelligible to the Ngatiawa Tribe, who usurped their territory. Their name, as spoken by themselves, is ‘tangata Maoriori,’ differing from the name of the New Zealand people only in the reduplication of the last syllables; but the conquerors have given them the title of ‘Paraiwhara,’ the meaning of which I could not ascertain. Their number at the time of my visit, by a careful census which I took of the names of men, women, and children, was 268; but the very small number of children and the unmarried state in which they seemed for the most part to be living would lead me to fear that they were rapidly decreasing. The relation in which they stand to the New-Zealanders is not satisfactory. They have been reduced to the condition of serfs, and are obliged to obey the orders of every little child of the invading race. The common expression of ‘Ngare Paraiwhara’ (Send a Paraiwhara) shows that a ‘fagging’ system has been established, more injurious, perhaps, to the masters than to the servants, as there is no appearance of harshness or severity, but a great decrease of personal activity in the dominant race. A long residence on the island would be necessary to do away entirely with this evil; but I did what I could in a short visit by paying personal attention to the poor Paraiwhara, and explaining how they were descended from the elder branch of the family of Noah, by which they obtained the name of the ‘tuakana o te Pihopa’ (the elder brother of the Bishop). They are a cheerful and willing people, and, like many persons in a subordinate station, more obliging than their masters. Amusing stories are told of the first invasion of the island, at which time the chief food of the Paraiwhara was the supply of eels from the numerous lakes which cover perhaps half the surface. When potatoes were first given to them they impaled them upon skewers, after the manner of cooking eels, and sat watching till the oil should drop from them. Their canoes are ingeniously made of small sticks carefully tied together, as there is no wood on the island suitable for a solid canoe.”*

[Footnote] * “Church in the Colonies (No. xx., New Zealand, part v.): A Journal of the Bishop's Visitation Tour through his Diocese, including a.

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Considering how comparatively soon his visit followed upon the atrocities recorded by Mr. Shand, it is difficult to understand how the good Bishop could have been kept so much in the dark as to the true history of the Maori usurpation as his remarks would lead one to suppose. It is not difficult to believe that whoever invented the title “elder brother of the Bishop” for the unfortunate Moriori was gifted with a certain sense of humour, but the “amusing stories” of the first invasion were probably very carefully selected before they were allowed to come to the ears of the distinguished visitor.

With the advent of European settlers the condition of the Morioris was doubtless greatly improved. As, however, the Maori occupation of the island took place prior to the Treaty of Waitangi, their ownership of the land by right of conquest has been admitted, with the exception of 2,000 acres, which they have been obliged to set apart as a reserve for their former slaves, of whom the remnant appear now to be very well treated, and to live on terms of equality with both Maoris and Europeans. The younger ones, at any rate, dress like Europeans and follow the same occupations—in fact, they are so completely “civilised” as to be no longer of much scientific interest.

The extent of the Moriori population in former years is still attested by the immense quantity of human remains with which the shores of the island are littered, and by the abundant evidence of native handiwork. At intervals along the low sandhills which fringe the greater part of the shore old burying-places and huge shell-mounds or “kitchen-middens” are met with. It was the custom of the race to bury some, at any rate, of their dead in the sand by the sea-shore, in a sitting posture, facing the west, with the elbows down and the knees up. In many places the remains have been exposed by the wind, and the shore is strewn with skulls and bones in various stages of dismemberment. Owing doubtless to the ease with which graves are scooped out in the loose sand, the Maoris chose (at any rate, at first) similar situations on the island for their cemeteries, so that it is now by no means easy to say whether any particular skull or other bone picked up on the shore belonged to one of the conquered or one of the conquering race. The only safe plan for those who wish to obtain specimens for scientific investigation is to dig out the entire skeleton, when the sitting posture may be regarded as sufficient proof of Moriori origin, for the Maoris appear to have buried their dead in a horizontal position.


[Footnote] ** Visit to the Chatham Islands in the Year 1848.” London. Printed for the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, and sold by the Sooiety for Promoting Christian Knowledge. 1851.

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When out riding on the shore close to the chief centre of population (Waitangi) I came upon a place where the sand-cliff was crumbling away, and old coffins were tumbling out in fragments and discharging their contents in ghastly medley—in one lay the remains of a man, with an old toothbrush, numerous buttons, and clay pipes close by; in another the remains of a child with the bones of the feet still in the boots, for the corpses appear to have been buried in their clothes, together with their personal effects. On at least one occasion the Maoris are said to have removed the bones from one of these burial-places to a more suitable locality.

Although human remains are left to be kicked about on the beach by the hoofs of the horses in the most promiscuous manner, yet the Maoris and half-castes have a strong objection to any one interfering with the bones. One of them tried to persuade me that any such interference was punishable by fine, though I believe there is no power on the island authorised to inflict such a penalty. The Maoris, however, still own much of the land, and, with the half-castes, are about equal in number to the Europeans, with whom they are quite on terms of equality. Hence they can make things uncomfortable in many ways if they choose to do so, and it is desirable for the sake of peace to observe their prejudices as far as possible, though it certainly seems a little strange, in view of their treatment of the Morioris, that they should feel so strongly with regard to the removal of the bones of their victims. Possibly there is some superstitious feeling about it, perhaps some lingering idea of tapu, or perhaps they fear lest the remains of their own people might also be disturbed. I had the pleasure of being hospitably entertained by one half-caste who had fenced in an old Moriori burying-place on his own property in order to keep the stock away from it, with the unexpected and very pleasing result that the great forget-me-not (Myosotidium nobile, the so-called “Chatham Island lily,” with its huge rhubarb-like leaves and bunches of blue flowers, elsewhere almost exterminated by the sheep, has begun to spread again vigorously in this locality.

At Wharekauri, Mr. Chudleigh's estate in the northern part of the island, I saw many bones lying beneath the trees in a dense thicket near the shore, and was informed that the Morioris sometimes tied their dead to trees in erect postures with a stick in hand pointing upwards to represent a pigeon-spear, the bodies being tied with the stems of that curious climbing plant, the supplejack of the settlers (Rhipogonum scandens. Mr. Gilbert Mair, in a paper read before the Wellington Philosophical Society in 1870,* also refers to this

[Footnote] * Trans. N.Z. Inst., vol. iii., 1870, p. 311.

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mode of burial. He says, “In some instances the corpses were placed upright between young trees and then firmly bound round with vines, and in course of time they became embedded in the wood itself. Sometimes they were placed in hollow trees. Several skeletons have lately been discovered by Europeans in trees which they were cutting up for firewood, &c. In other cases the corpses were placed on small rafts constructed of the dry flower-stems of the flax. Water, food, fishing-lines, &c., were then placed by them, and they were set adrift and carried out to sea by the land breeze. Not long ago an American whaler discovered one of these rafts with a corpse seated in the stern many miles from land. Not knowing that it had been set adrift purposely, the captain had a rope attached to it and towed it into Whangaroa Harbour, much to the annoyance of the natives.” Mr. Mair makes no mention of burial as a mode of disposing of the dead.

In considering the funeral customs of the Morioris we must certainly take into account the extraordinary tree-carvings so abundant in some parts of the island. It is remarkable how little attention these carvings have hitherto excited. A good painting of some of them, by Miss Stoddart, may, however, be seen in the Canterbury Museum, which has also, since my visit to the island, acquired three actual specimens. Mr. Travers also, in his extremely interesting paper on the “Traditions and Customs of the Morioris,”* gives illustrations of some of these figures, which he explains as follows: “Their quarrels appear to have arisen chiefly out of conflicting claims to the possession of valuable karaka-trees, the fruit of which was a staple and much-liked article of food, and my son informs me that nearly all the older karaka-trees on the island are marked with devices indicating their special ownership—a fact of very great interest. He made drawings of many of these figures, which are very rude, but were evidently sufficient for the purposes of the owners.”

I myself took the opportunity when on the island of making a number of sketches of these tree-carvings, which are reproduced in the accompanying plate (Plate V., figs. 1—4). They are commonly about 3 ft. in total height, and those which I saw, as well as those in the Canterbury Museum, those drawn by Miss Stoddart, and some of those figured by Mr. Travers, are evidently intended to represent the human skeleton in the sitting attitude. The elbows are represented pointing downwards and the knees upwards, and some of them have unmistakable ribs (figs. 3, 4). The head is commonly represented with a curious cleft on top (figs. 1—3),

[Footnote] * Trans. N.Z. Inst., vol. ix., p. 25.

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so that the outline becomes somewhat heart-shaped. In one case (fig. 4) the head was replaced by what appears to be the figure of a hand with an eye on each side of it. This had possibly some symbolical significance. The hands and feet show a varying number of digits up to five, and the backbone is represented by a straight line.

The figures in question appear always to have been carved in the bark of the kopi-tree or karaka (Corynocarpus lavigata,) whose large succulent drupes formed one of the principal articles of food amongst the Moriori, and whose smooth bark is particularly suited for the purpose. The outlines are generally incised, but in two of the specimens in the Canterbury Museum they are left in relief. These figures may, as indicated by Mr. Travers, have been marks of ownership, or they may have been intended to represent tutelary deities. The Maoris on the island appear, from what I learnt from a half-caste, to have a curious idea that the carvings were a sign that the Moriori race was doomed.

For my own part, I am inclined to believe that the human figures on the kopi-trees were connected with there burial customs, for in no other way does it seem possible to explain the peculiar attitude of all and the prominent ribs of some of the figures. “When dead,” says Mr. Travers, “the arms were forced back against the chest and securely bound there with plaited green-flax ropes, the hands were bound together and drawn over the knees, and a stick was then inserted between the arms and knees. This was the orthodox method of trussing a body, and it was sometimes a work of great difficulty, for when the body became rigid the efforts of many men were required to bring it into a proper position. This being done, the dead was enveloped in plaited flax matting and interred as far as the knees, the upper portion of the body being invariably above the soil.”

It seems tolerably certain that another method of disposing of the dead was by placing them in or against trees in the manner described by Mr. Mair. The particular mode of dealing with any dead body was probably determined by the character of the individual to whom it had belonged, and probably great importance was attached to the proper performance of the ceremony. The earlier methods of disposal may very likely have been given up for sanitary reasons on the advent of Europeans, a possibility which had struck me even before I came across the following significant passage from Mr. John Amery's work on the Chatham Islands, quoted by Mr. Travers: “In my rambles through the bush I have frequently observed a time–and weather-bleached skeleton grinning at me from some old tree. Walking one day with an ancient native woman, she suddenly stopped and

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commenced an affectionate and whining korero with a skull suspended from a branch. I said, ‘What old friend is that?’ ‘Oh,’ said she, ‘it is my first husband; he was atame pai (a good husband). My wife and I used both entreaties and arguments to break them from such indecent and unholy customs. One day, during my absence from home, a person was about to be interred in the usual manner. My wife, however, hastened to the spot and insisted upon having a deep grave dug. She was instantly obeyed, upon which she read an appropriate prayer, and the body was interred with decency. From that time the old custom was never revived.”

If for any reason the Morioris really did abandon their ancient custom of tree-burial, it is not difficult to believe that they might, in place of the actual bodies, carve upon the bark of the trees those remarkable figures which are so clearly intended to represent skeletons. Such carvings would serve as a memento mori almost as well as the corpse itself, without the obvious disadvantages of the latter. There are several reasons why the kopi-trees should always have been selected for the carving. It is almost the only tree large enough, and, on account of the smooth nature of the bark, quite the most suitable; while, if there was any right of individual ownership in the trees, it is not unnatural to suppose that the effigy of the departed would be placed on his own property. This view of the case may also in some measure explain the Maori idea that the carvings indicated the doom of the Moriori race, for the abandonment of the ancient burial custom would probably be regarded as a most serious infringement of tapu and as such would be expected to entail disastrous consequences. In this connection it is interesting to note Mr. Shand's statement that “the Morioris began to die very rapidly after the arrival of the Maoris, the cause of which they attribute to the transgression of their own tapu, for the Morioris were an exceedingly tapu race”

There are also rude rock-carvings on the island, but these are of quite a different type from those which I observed on the trees. At the entrance of a shallow cave at Mororoa the soft limestone rock is scored with bird-like figures in endless repetition (Plate V., fig. 5). These may possibly represent shags. Mr. Shand told me that a Moriori showed him two figures on the rock at Moutapu, which they say were the models from which all the bird-figures were taken; but they seem, according to the same authority, to have called the figures on the trees birds, so that there is doubtless some confusion here. I was also told by a lady on the island that she had found the figure of a shag carved on hard wood in a Moriori grave. Possibly the shag was regarded as a sacred bird.

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Whatever they may have intended to represent, the Moriori idea of carving appears to have been extremely crude. The figures certainly were to a large extent conventionalised, but the inferiority to the workmanship of the New Zealand Maori, both in conception and execution, is, considering the undoubtedly close relationship of the two races, very remarkable. Taken in conjunction with their apparently complete ignorance of the art of tattooing, it certainly appears to indicate that the two races must have branched off from one another at a very remote period in their history, although the language appears to have undergone very little alteration.

As manufacturers of stone implements of various kinds the Morioris appear to have more nearly approached, if they did not equal, the Maori standard of excellence. Stone chisels of two very distinct types are met with. I give photographs of two specimens which were given to me on the island. Plate VI., fig. 10, represents a small chisel of yellowish chert, almost cylindrical in form, and with a narrow cutting-edge. This is probably one of those which Mr. Shand says were termed “whao,” and which were used for making holes. Fig. 11 is a broad, flat chisel or adze of a hard grey stone, well polished; one side is quite flat, the other gradually bevelled to the cutting-edge, while the side edges have been ground flat. Rudely flaked chert “blubber-knives,” such as are represented in figs. 8 and 9, are still common on the shore, but I was not fortunate enough to obtain any of the well-known stone clubs described and figured by Sir Julius von Haast.* Bone fish-hooks may be found amongst the sandhills. Figs. 6 and 7 represent a couple which I picked up in the neighbourhood of an old kitchen-midden, or shell-mound, at Maturakau; and sharpened pieces of birds' bones, used, as I was told, for extracting shell-fish from their shells, may be met with in similar situations (fig. 13). Sharks' teeth bored for stringing as ornaments (figs. 14 and 15) are also not uncommon.

One evening, whilst staying with Mr. Chudleigh at Wharekauri, I received an invitation from Mr. Abner Clough, who is employed on the estate, to visit him in his own quarters. Amongst the miscellaneous collection of articles which littered his table a remarkable-looking piece of whalebone at once arrested my attention. I found on inquiry that Mr. Clough had picked this specimen up in an old Moriori burial-ground amongst the sand-

[Footnote] * Haast, “On the Stone Weapons of the Moriori and the Maori” (Trans. N.Z. Inst., vol. xviii., p. 24). For further information concerning Moriori stone implements, see Shand (Journal of the Polynesian Society, vol. iii., p. 84 and Smith (Op. cit., vol. i., p. 80).

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hills on the shore near a place called Okawa, near Kainga-roa. The bone, which is represented in Plate VI., fig. 12, had evidently been carefully shaped and carved, and I had no difficulty in recognising in it a very typical example of that extremely interesting instrument of primitive races known to ethnologists as the “bull-roarer.” Probably this bull-roarer is of ancient date, for the whalebone of which it is made is honeycombed with decay. Moreover, Mr. Shand had never heard of such an instrument existing amongst the Moriori; though this might readily be accounted for if, as in other races, the bull-roarer was a sacred article—probably, indeed, in the case of the Moriori highly tapu, for these people “possessed the tapu in all its forms and terrors” (Shand). The specimen is broad and flat, elliptical in cross-section, and remarkably short, with one end much broader than the other. The side edges are approximately straight, except for the notching to be mentioned directly, the broad end slightly excavated or curved inwards. The narrow end is a good deal worn with age, and has a deep notch in the middle, which may possibly be the remains of a hole through which a string may have been passed. The side edges are also deeply notched near the narrow end, evidently to allow of secure tying. Beyond these “fastening-notches” the edges are beset with smaller notches all along, and this notching is continued along the broad end. The broad, flat surfaces are also grooved. On the best-preserved side there is a pair of longitudinal grooves extending from end to end, one on each side of the middle line. In the region of the fastening-notches, which are a good deal broken away, these longitudinal grooves are crossed at right angles by two others. On the opposite surface, which has apparently been more exposed to the weather, only the two longitudinal grooves can be distinguished. The total length of the specimen is exactly 6in., the breadth at the narrow end about 11/2in., and at the broad end about 25/8in. (6 by 11/2 to 25/8).

Much has been written of late years about the bull-roarer, which, as a toy, is familiar to many an English schoolboy. It is essentially a noise-making instrument. The schoolboy takes a thin wooden lath, notches the edges, ties a string to one end and whirls it round rapidly in the air. A peculiar humming noise is produced which is very suggestive of wind-In a specimen which I made recently I find that when humming, or “buzzing,” the instrument also rotates rapidly about its long axis, and that unless it does so no noise is produced. Whether this rotation about its own axis is necessary in all cases I cannot say.

In a more or less typical form the bull-roarer is distributed amongst native races over perhaps the greater part of the

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inhabited world. Professor Haddon has written an extremely interesting chapter on the subject in his work on the “Study of Man,” and has there tabulated the uses and distribution of this remarkable instrument. It appears to have been used (1) as a sacred instrument in the mysteries in ancient Greece, on the west coast of Africa, amongst the Kaffirs, in North America, in the Solomon Islands, in Banks Island, in New Guinea, and in Australia; (2) in initiation ceremonies amongst the Kaffirs and in New Guinea and Australia; (3) as a summons to ceremonies amongst the Kaffirs and in North America and Australia; (4) to summon spirits in South America; (5) to frighten away spirits in North America and Banks Island; (6) as a god on the west coast of Africa and in Australia; (7) associated with judiciary powers, &c., on the west coast of Africa and in the Solomon Islands; (8) for producing wind amongst the Kaffirs, in North and South America, and in Torres Strait; (9) for producing rain amongst the Kaffirs and African Bushmans, in North and South America, in Torres Strait, and in Australia; (10) for producing thunder and lightning in North and South America; (11) as a charm in hunting or fishing by the African Bushmans a, in Torres Strait, and in Australia; (12) for driving cattle by the African Bushmans and the Malays; (13) as a toy in the British Isles, Central Europe, amongst the Eskimo, in South America, amongst the Malays, in the Solomon Islands, in Banks Island, and in Torres Strait.

The bull-roarer was tabooed to women by the Kaffirs, the South Americans, the Solomon-Islanders, the Papuans, and the Australians.

In New Zealand it appears to have existed in a modified form, consisting of an oval flattened piece of wood without notches, but the use which the Maoris made of the instrument is not known. Professor Haddon observes, “It is also entirely wanting, so far as we know, from Polynesia, with the exception of New Zealand. It is worth bearing in mind that these islands were almost certainly inhabited by Melanesians before the Maori invasion,* and the bull-roarer may belong to the older population. A highly decorated specimen occurs in the British Museum; it was first figured and noted by Lang. We have no information as to its use.” I may add to this that there is in the Canterbury Museum, at Christchurch, a bull-roarer made to order by a Maori from the Urewera country. This specimen is a flat ovoid piece of wood with smooth surface and smooth edges, quite unornamented, and

[Footnote] * Captain Hutton informs me that there is no sufficient ground for believing in a Melanesian occupation of New Zealand before the advent of the Maoris.—A. D.

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with a hole through the narrower end for the attachment of the string. It is intended to be swung by means of a stick attached to the other end of the string.

It must be observed that the Maori bull-roarer is of a very different form from the Chatham Island specimen, so much so that one would hardly suppose the two to have been made by closely related races.

I also learnt from a European boy on Chatham Island that the bull-roarer is there known to the Maori schoolchildren, presumably as a toy. This being the case, it might be suspected that my specimen is of recent origin, and not of Moriori workmanship; but its evident antiquity, its peculiar form, sculpture, and material, as well as the locality where it was found, afford pretty conclusive evidence that it is not of modern manufacture. The great difference between the Chatham Island and New Zealand bull-roarers perhaps affords another indication that the Maori and Moriori races branched off from one another at a very remote period.

Explanation of Plates V. and VI.

Plate V.

Fig. 1. Human figure cut in the bark of an old kopi-tree at Mororoa, Chatham Island.

Fig. 2. Similar figure at Wharekauri, Chatham Island.

Figs. 3, 4. Figures on two kopi-trees close together at Mairangi, near Wharekauri, Chatham Island.

Fig. 5. Figure of shag (?) carved in soft rock forming the entrance to a shallow cave or rock-shelter at Mororoa, Chatham Island.

(Figs. 1 to 5 from sketches by the author.)

Plate VI.

Figs. 6, 7. Bone fish-books.

Figs. 8, 9. Chert “blubber-knives” or scrapers (?).

Fig. 10. Cylindrical chert chisel.

Fig. 11. Flat chisel or adze of hard grey stone.

Fig. 12. “Bull-roarer” of whalebone.

Fig. 13. Bird's bone sharpened, and probably used for extracting shell-fish.

Figs. 14, 15. Sharks' teeth bored for stringing.

(Figs. 6 to 15 from photographs of specimens brought by the author from Chatham Island.)

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Art. IX.—A Philological Study in Natural History.

[Read before the Hawke's Bay Philosophical Institute, 21st October, 1901.]

Primitive man was a hunter of the beasts and birds. In Europe the climatic conditions were arctic; snow and ice extended from the far north even to the centre of France and Germany. Notwithstanding the rigours of the climate, various animals suitable to these conditions of life inhabited the outer margin of this great snow-cap. Man (as we see in the Esquimaux of the present time) was there also as a hunter of wild beasts, and as time went on he became herdsman and utilised the reindeer, as Lapps do even now. From certain osteological evidence as examined by scientists we know this to have been the case. To myself it seems also proved by philological deductions in the German language.

When the Roman general, Julius Cæsar, led his conquering armies through Gaul—a name which he gives to France and part of Germany—he noticed several strange animals in that country of which he had no previous knowledge, and which he mentions in his history of his battles and conquests. One animal he names reno, or rehno, which I consider to mean the reindeer, from comparing it with French renne and German renn-thier (a reindeer), also with German renn-pferd, a race-horse, renn-hirsch, a reindeer (literally, running- or race-stag, from rennen, to run); and renn-schlitten, a sledge, also abbreviated to schlitten, a sledge, is a suitable name for the vehicle to which the animal renn-thier was harnessed and utilised as a draught animal by his owner. The suffix or additional word thier in renn-thier is equivalent to beast or animal, which makes the whole word mean “run-beast” or “race-beast,” and I see no cause for the special term runner, or racer, otherwise than as referring to the speed of the animal when driven in a sledge. The word thier, an animal, is the Teutonic form of our English word deer, which we use now as a general term for the Cervidœ, or stags, as in fallow deer or red deer. The word fallow is from Anglo-Saxon fealu, fealo, a pale-red colour; therefore we get the “pale-red beast” and the “darker-red beast” as the plain meaning of the two names. As to whether the German rind, cattle, rinder-pest (rin-thier-pest), cattle disease, is connected with rennen, to run, I find no evidence, it being a word coined at a later date.

When the climate of Europe became more ameliorated or

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temperate other species of deer occupied the land, coming possibly from the east and south. Julius Cæsar mentions an animal of Gaul under the name of alces (which is kindred to Russian olene, a stag; German elch, an elk or moose; French elan, an elk), probably a large stag or red deer. The Dutch colonists in South Africa name the largest of the antelopes eland.

Our English word wild—or, rather, its original form - is in German used to denote game (animals or birds which may be hunted), and occasionally is used in place of our word deer, as roth-wild, roth-hirsch, the stag or red deer (roth meaning red), roth-huhn (literally, red hen), the red-legged partridge; schwarzes-wild (black game), the wild boar; wild-kalb (literally, wild calf), a fawn or young deer; wild-huhn, a ptarmigan; wild-sprossen, antlers; wild-stand, a covert or game preserve; wild-hirt, a gamekeeper; wild-bann, right of hunting; wild-e, open moorland or uncultivated land, from which we derive English wild-er-ness. Another connection is reh-wild, a deer; reh-bock, the roebuck; reh-geiss, the doe or female of the roebuck. The terminal word geiss is a female goat, and geiss-bock is a buck goat, also a roebuck. Reh-fleck is a purple spot; reh-fleisch, venison; hirsch-reh, musk deer. In French chevreuil is a roebuck; chevrette, a roe or doe; chevre, a female goat. An assumed likeness in this animal to the goat is evident from its naming. Professor Skeat gives roe as a female deer; mid-English, ro; Anglo-Saxon, ráh; Icelandic, , &c.; derivative, roe-buck. An allied word is English doe, a female deer, and doe-rabbit, or hare. The German dam-wild and dam-thier look rather naughty words, but they are the neuter form for the fallow deer; dam-bock and dam-hirsch are the male, and dam-geiss or dam-kuh the female animals. This seems akin to Latin dam-a, a deer; French daim, a fallow-deer buck, daine, a doe. The English word fallow comes through Anglo-Saxon fealu, fealo, pale-red or yellow in colour. In French fauve is fawn-coloured or tawny: thus, běte-fauve and also fauve is fallow deer, which is equivalent to tawny - coloured beast. The English word deer is connected with Anglo - Saxon deór, a wild animal; Dutch, dier; Danish, dyr; Swedish, djur; Icelandic, dyr; Gothic, dius; German, thier; Latin, fer-a; Greek, ther and pher, a wild beast. German thier will not specially refer to wild animals, but rather to any animal, beast, or brute; in sporting, to doe. The following are examples: Thier-arzt, veterinary surgeon; thier-garten, zoological garden, or a park; thier-kreis, the zodiac (literally, the animal circle); thier-kalb, a fawn; haus-thiere (in the plural), domesticated animals (literally, house-animals, or animals kept in the vicinity of the house); jung-thier, a fawn (literally, young beast).

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The Greek word θνρ (thēr), in an equal manner to the German wild, indicates specially hunting and the killing of feral animals, as thera, hunting, the animal hunted and caught; therao, to hunt; therates, a hunter or pursuer; therion, a wild beast; theriodes, savage, fierce. This word also, with varying suffixes, refers to the gladiatorial encounters with wild beasts within the enclosed area of the amphitheatre. English hind, the female of the stag, I would suppose to refer to the habit of the females composing the harem of the stag in following the lead of their lord and master—that is, in the meaning of hinder ones—Anglo-Saxon, hind; Dutch, hinde.

It is noticeable that to define the sex of many of these wild animals the term buck is used for the males, and kuh, cow, kalb, calf, is used, especially in the German or Teutonic, to define the female and her young; but we do not find any word equivalent to bull (German stier) to mean the male of any of the animals mentioned. At a later date, however, in America the male moose is called the bull and his consort the cow, yet they are of the order Cervidœ, and carry solid branching antlers, which are annually cast. The Germans have renn-thier-kuh, the female reindeer, but the use of kuh, a cow, could hardly originate in connection with a reindeer, for surely it must belong by right to the female of the ox. If so, the special definition of the sexes of the above animals must have remained in abeyance until after the knowledge of or the domestication of the ox. But, if so, why not also the use of an equivalent to bull to denote the males, as in the bull, cow, and calf of the whale and seal? If used to the walrus, we would have whale, horse, bull, &c., from ros, a horse. In place of bull we get buck or boc. Now, this name certainly is an original term for the male goat. In German geiss and zeigel both mean the female goat, to which is added the suffix bock, to mean the male; at the same time German bock is a male goat, and we find its variants is Anglo-Saxon bucca, Dutch bok, Icelandic bukkr, Danish buk, Welsh bwch, Gaelic boc, and even Sanskrit bukkr. And English butcher comes through mid-English bocher, French boucher, originally meaning “one who kills goats,” from old French boc (French, bouc), a he goat. These people, therefore, must have known and held in domestication the goat previous to the use of the word buck to denote the male of different species of Cervidœ, and, in fact, the use or equivalent of the German wild must have been greatly modified since first coined, unless we are to come to the conclusion that those people using it to mean feral animals had already several kinds of domestic or tame animals, and we might also say birds, meaning the specially tame bird Gallus domesticus (the cock and hen of our poultry-yards—hahn and henne of

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the Germans; huhn, a fowl; connected by Skeat with Latin can-ere, to sing, from its noisy habits, or crowing).

To further point this: In English we have such names as moor-hen, water-hen, black-cock and his female the grey-hen; and we have brought this custom to New Zealand in calling Ocydromus the wood-hen. Again, in the name of one of the two ships of Tasman's expedition when he discovered New Zealand we get Zee-hahn, or sea-hen, a name of a kind of sea-bird; we have also named a large petrel cape-hen, mostly seen when a vessel is rounding Cape Horn. You will observe that we speak of a wood-hen or a cape-hen without consideration as to whether it is male or female—the comparison is simply between these birds and the domestic fowl of our childhood's knowledge. Notice, also, our term for the stormy petrel, one of the smallest (perhaps the smallest) of the birds of the ocean—“Mother Carey's chickens.” These little black-and-white birds are most persistent in following in the wake of sailing-vessels.

Here are several other German words, or names of wild fowl, which are compounds of the term huhn, the neuter form, of hahn, the masculine form, and of henne, the feminine form, of Gallus domesticus, our barn-yard fowl, which are extremely suggestive of the question as to whether these people owned the tame form of Gallus bankiva or whether the bird at some later time became known as the cock and hen par excellence, as the king and queen of all birds. German au and auer, a plain or meadow; auer-weit, extended as a plain, weit in composition meaning far or wide; auer-wild., the grouse, and so equal to moorland game; auer-hahn (male) and auer-henne (female) in my dictionary is given as both grouse and woodcock, which must be an error, for wald-schnepfe, or wood-snipe, is evidently the woodcock. A second meaning given is “the grouse,” but a scientific correspondent once wrote me that the capercailzie, or cock of the woods, was ur-hahn, now written auer-hahn, the former name being latinized in its generic title as Uro-gallus, the meaning being “the original cock, or cock of yore,” as if in contradistinction to Gallus domesticus. The German ur in compound words = primitive, primeval, original; ur-ahn, great-grandfather; therefore ur-huhn would be the first or original, or perhaps, rather, the fowl of that country to which the immigrants came. I would rather accept the form auer-hahn, or moorland cock, but was it not a bird of the forests? The name capercailzie is said to come through Gaelic capull-coille, great cock of the woods (literally, horse of the wood, from Gaelic capull, a horse, coille, coill, a wood).

Also in German we have wild-huhn, the ptarmigan, wild or game fowl; reb-huhn, the vine fowl, or partridge; birk-hahn,

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the birch (tree) cock, the black cock; birk-henne, said to be the red-grouse, but must be the grey-hen, the female of the birds we name black-game; kurre, a turkey-hen; kurr-hahn, a turkey-cock. It may be of interest to make a guess how the English came to use the word turkey to designate this bird. I would say that the red head and curiously elongated caruncular tassel, also of scarlet hue, gave the fancied resemblance to a Turk and his scarlet fez, or cap. This bird, originating from North America, has no other connection with the Turk, except as supposing the use of the diminutive form Turk-ie, or little Turk. We also have wasser-huhn, the moor-fowl, and wasser-henne, the water-hen.

Following the word cock into the French language, we have coq, the male Gallus domesticus; coq-d'Inde, cock of India (i.e., American Indians), a turkey-cock; coq-de-bruyère, cock of the heather, the grouse; coq-a-queue-fourchue, the cock with the forked or branching tail, which is very descriptive of the black-cock, whose tail-feathers bend outward to either side somewhat in the form of two J's placed back to back: thus, ᒉᒕ The woodcock is coq-des-bois, or cock of the woods, and coq-de-combat is a game-cock, which in German is kamph-hahn. This latter is also the name of a small bird, the ruff, which is allied to the plover, and is sometimes kept in captivity on account of its great pugnacity towards others of its kind. The female, being without the neck-ruff, we name reeve. Kamph means “combat” or “conflict,” as kamph-hahn, battle-cock.

The French word coquerico means cock-a-doodle-do, and is on the same lines as coquette, a flirt; coqueliner, to crow, to run after the girls. In Sanskrit kukkuta is a cock, probably so called from the call of the bird. As the bird carries his voice to all countries, we may expect to find in most cases it is named therefrom, as, for instance, Malay kukuk, the crowing of cocks; kakak, the cackling of hens. In French the female bird is named poule and poule d'Inde, hen of India (North American Indians), the hen turkey. You will remember that the early voyagers, on reaching the coast of America, supposed they had reached India, hence the name of West Indies. The natives of America were thus misnamed Indians, and the term became so much in use that Captain Cook and others wrote of the aborigines of the islands of the Pacific Ocean as Indians, even the Maori of New Zealand being so named. Poule d'eau is the moor-hen, and is also termed more correctly water-hen. Poule would seem allied to Latin pull-us, young animal or foal; English derivatives, pullet, a young hen; poultry, and others.

Cochon d'Inde, the pig of India, is the guinea-pig, and is a native of South America. The same derivative is disguised in

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French dindon, a turkey-cock; dinde, a turkey-hen; and dindonneau, a young turkey. German meer-schwein-chen (literally, “sea-pig-small”) is a guinea-pig—probably small pig from over the sea. But a guinea-fowl is called perl-huhn, pearl fowl, most likely from the circular white spots on the feathers. Meer-schwein is the porpoise, the English name of which is said to be from Latin porc-us, a pig, and piscis, a fish. Another example of the application of the terms cock and hen is seen in English peacock, peahen, pea-fowl; German, pfau (male), pfau-henne (female: note the suffix henne as approximate to English hen), pfauge-flugel (pea-fowl); French, paon (male), paonne (female), paon-sauvage-des-Pyrénées (the ruff and reeve mentioned above: why called paon I do not understand, perhaps from spreading ruff feathers on the neck of the male bird, but note its fighting qualities in sauvage); Latin pavo; Greek, taos and taon (a peacock). Skeat connects with Tamil tokei togei, a peacock; this might well be called “the bird of India,” but is not so named. Some years ago, when I was called upon to assist in the amusement of some children on a wet day, the entertainment consisted of each person present taking the name or rôle of some animal or bird. One small girl elected to be a peacock, and as the narrator of the story to the play arrived at the word “peacock” the child, in a peculiar tone of voice, cried out pa-oo, making the two syllables in a somewhat different tone. At once I saw the similarity in this perfect imitation to the call of the bird to Latin pavo, and am satisfied that the voice of the bird originates its own name.

French coq, a cock, would seem connected with the Greek kokkvζ, a cuckoo, as seen in kokkvξo, to crow like a cock, to call as the cuckoo. As an ally Skeat has cockatoo, a kind of parrot, from Malay kaka-tua. This latter is evidently seen in the Maori kaka (the Nestor meridionalis, a species of parrot), and in kaka-riki, a parrakeet (literally, a small kaka). From the plumage of this bird comes the standard for the colour green; also kaka-riki, green colour; kaka-po, the night parrot, from po, night. The name for Gallus domesticus among the Polynesians is moa, but when Captain Cook brought the fowl to New Zealand the name moa was then used to denote different varieties of Dinornis; so seemingly the Maori has invented two different original words founded on the call of the bird. The word hen Skeat connects with Latin can-ere, to sing, Anglo-Saxon, hana, a cock (literally, the singer)—as I have already indicated.

Whatever may be the origin of the words cock and hen, it seems to me from the above study that before man took the thought to distinguish between the sexes of birds and animals he had already domesticated the Gallus bankiva, now found

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chiefly in the forests of Hindustan, and also herded or held in captivity the goat and the ox—that is, judging from European languages. The domestic fowl seemingly was by its Latin name gall-us introduced to the south of Europe by way of Gaul, or France. (Note the German word Gallien, Gaul. How do we derive the term Gallic cock in reference to the French?)

In Latin the two words bestia and bellua originally had special reference to wild beasts, but these same words in other languages, and through changes brought about by lapse of time, now have reference to domestic cattle. In Latin bestia is a beast, an irrational creature, in opposition to man, while animal includes man and all living things. Bes iarius is one who fought with wild beasts in the arena or or circus, as a public entertainment. If we follow bestia into Greek we come back to words already referred to—therion and ther (bestialis = theriodes). In French, by elision of letter s and change of pronunciation, we have bête, a beast, which, with the addition of either of the kindred words feroce and sauvage, means a wild animal. Béte, in conjunction with distinguishing terms, has reference to domestic animals, as bêtes-á-laine, sheep (beasts having laine, wool); bête à corues, horned beast; bête de somme, beast of burden; bête de Vierge (of the mother of our Lord), the ladybird (beetle); betail (plural, besti-aux), cattle; gros betail, large cattle; menu betail, small cattle; exposition de betail, cattle show. In Italian bestiame is cattle. Gros-betail is elsewhere said to be neat or black cattle, so I suppose menu-betail to be sheep and goats.

From our other Latin word—bellua, a wild beast—we get; Latin, bell-un, war; English, bell-i-cose, the desire of battle, and bell-ing, the challenge call to fight of stags and their allies during the rutting season; German, bell-en, to bark, to grumble, and brull-en, to bellow. We also get: English, bell, a hollow piece of metal for producing a loud noise or sound, and bull (the beast); mid-English, bellen; Anglo-Saxon, bellan, to make a loud noise; Icelandic, belja, to bellow; German, brull-frosch, a bull-frog, brull-ochs, a bull. English boulder, a large water-worn stone, so named from the noise made by these stones when driven by flood-waters along the bed of a river or stream, is in Sweden buller-steen; Swedish, bullra, to thunder, roar, and steen, a stone; in Danish ld for ll gives buldre, to roar, and bulder, a crash. Bull, as the bellowing beast, is shown in old French bugle, a wild ox; French, beugle-ment, a bellowing; English, bugle, which is short for bugle-horn (compare English cornet, a horn, also a wing of a troop of horse led by a cornet or bugle, also an officer of such troop; Latin c, rnu, a horn); because the horns of oxen were in old times used as loud-sounding

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instruments, we have a hunting-horn or huntsman's horn, which he blew in the chase; a horn of beer could be obtained (or asked for) when I was a small boy; the larger portion of a horn with a wooden bottom let in was the drinking-cup of our ancestors. The word bull is not found in Anglo-Saxon, but its derivative or diminutive is bulluca, a bull-och. I am unable to trace the suffix uca or its later form och, which has certainly no connection with German ochs, an ox. Possibly the same terminal diminutive is shown in Latin bu-cula, a heifer, from bos, an ox, bull, or cow. A kindred word to bucula seemingly by inference is found in the Latin buccina, a trumpet or crooked horn: note German bugle, curve, anything bent, bugle-riemen stirrup-leather; tuba being the name of the straight trumpet. This word is also written bu-cina, which would seem the correct form though seldom used. The confusion is owing to close similarity to buccula, the diminutive of bucca, a cheek or mouth, and bucco, one who has the cheeks distended. Here may even be a connection, for a person occupied in blowing a horn has the cheeks puffed out. In Italian buccina is a trumpet; buccin-are is to proclaim with sound of the trumpet; and buciacchio is a bullock. In French bou-villon is a bullock. The proof of the argument is in Latin bucerus, having horns like an ox; Greek, bou-keros, having bulls' horns (from bous, a bull, and keras, a horn).

But to return to the consideration of Latin bestia, a beast, or wild beast. Through the French besti-aux, cattle, we probably have adopted the use of the term beast and beasts in reference to our domestic oxen—that is, to our horned cattle; for in our form of speech we make no provision in the generic term for the polled races of oxen, such as the Angus and Galloway breeds, originating in Scotland.

As an illustration I will give a clipping from a newspaper report of the annual fair at Ipswich in May, 1891, curiously called “St. George's Fair,”: “Fat beasts not quite so numerous, but buyers attending in strong force: a decided improvement in values was noticed. Fat sheep and lambs in request, and recent prices maintained. Numbers at market: Beasts, 1,359; sheep, 2,815; swine, 759. Messrs. Day and Sons, of Crewe, advertise ‘zomo-sal,’ a saline blood tonic for horses and beasts.” And also the following from the “Live Stock Journal” of the 28th June, 1901, under the heading “Scraps”: “Plough cattle were not expensive in 1310. At Cardiff two beasts bought for a cart cost only 18s.; twenty-three plough-oxen cost 13s. 4d. per head; while a bull and fourteen cows bought to stock a manor cost 10s. per head.” And this from an English newspaper: “Spalding, Tuesday.—A small show of fat beasts and a slow trade, 7s.

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per stone being the top price. Store beasts sold rather better in proportion. Small supply of mutton, and trade hardly so good. From 6d. to 8d. per pound was realised. Good trade for pork, which was in demand at 6s. to 7s. per stone, according to quality.”

In prehistoric times, and even down to the date of Julius Cæsar's conquest of Gaul, there existed in Europe two species or varieties of the ox, living in a wild state in the extensive forests, named Bos primigenus and Bos longifrons, and their fossil remains are even found in Britain. The B. primigenus is considered by most naturalists to be the progenitor of the larger breeds of domestic oxen, and it is generally considered to be the great beast ur, mentioned by Cæsar in the history of his wars. Cæsar thus describes them: “These uri are little inferior to elephants in size, but are bulls in their nature, colour, and figure. Great is their strength and great their swiftness; nor do they spare man or beast when they have caught sight of them. These when trapped in pitfalls the hunters diligently kill. The youths, exercising themselves in this sort of hunting, are hardened by the toil, and those among them who have killed most, bringing with them the horns as testimony, acquire great praise. But these uri cannot be habituated to man or made tractable, not even when young The great size of the horns, as well as the form and quality of them, differs much from the horns of our oxen. These horns, when carefully selected, they ring round the edges with silver, and use them for drinking-cups at their ample feasts.”

In speaking of the untamable disposition of the young of the ur, it seems probable that the character and well-known disposition of another ally of the Bovidœ is confused with it—namely, the European bison, which is known in Germany as the aur-ochs, or auer-ocks, the latter of the two names appearing the more correct form, as meaning “the moorland-ox, the ox of the uninhabited or uncultivated land.” This animal is still preserved by Royal edict in Lithuania, and is also found among the hills and valleys of the Caucasus. It is there called zubr, a name which, curiously enough, contains the letters ur. This name ur is assumed by many to be the German prefix ur, ancient, or original; but if that were so it would seem necessary to use the suffix “ochs,” and so get primeval or ancestral ox. But my German dictionary also gives ur as the ure-ox (masculine) without the suffix ochs. So the Germans seemingly have two separate names for the bison, and that of ur for Bos primigenus. Now, ure is French, and is translated as the ure-ox, the urus (also of male gender). The German ur as a prefix gives us ahn, greatgrandfather; ur-alt, very ancient, primeval; ur-all, the

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universe. Auer-ochs, a bison, is also male, as of a wild beast whose sex is immaterial. Why is this? And note auer-weit, extended as a plain; weit, wide, broad, extended, far off, distant. We have already met the prefix as in auer-hahn, when treating of the wild game, and so may take auer-ochs to be “the ox inhabiting the moorland or open country” (the bison).

We have seen that great use was made of the names of the domestic fowl in naming the sexes or quality of game birds, and the use of boc, a male goat, to indicate sex in certain animals in the German—cow and calf being the opposite terms—but we have in no case met with the use of bull as a sexual denominative, though in English we find bull-moose, bull-whale, and probably bull-wal-rus, which latter word, when analysed, gives bull-whale-horse—German ros, a horse. In English buck is used as the mate of the doe among smaller kinds of deer and the male of the goat. Can it be possible that the great beast ur was the wild bull, which came and served the domestic kuh (cow)? The bull, being of dangerous habits and of a roaming disposition, could not be attached to one place, or be safely held in captivity. He was bellua, the bellower; bestia, the beast; for-us, thier, the wild animal. He was the ur, thur, tur, taur-us—German stier, a bull; stier possibly stood for sta-thier, the beast confined in a sta-ll or sta-ble—Latin sta-bulum, a stable, from stare (for sta-are), to sta-nd, the animal being kept sta-tion-ary or confined, or shut up in a sty, as seen in pig-sty. According to Skeat taur-us is used for sta-ur-us.

In Scotland stirk is a calf not yet a year old, and is probably derived from the animal being shut up in a pen or sty away from the cow, or as a hostage for the return of the cow, or that the owner might secure the first of the milk. The word is possibly connected with Latin stirc-us, dung, owing to being dirty from its enclosure. But in the Caucasian Mountains tur is the ibex (Caper caucasica), and, I understand, is used also for Caper œgagurs, the supposed original wild form of the domestic goat. A similar sound is in thar, a native name for Hemitragus jemlaica, a kind of wild sheep. Note also chimerical, from Greek ximaira, a she goat; also the chimœra, a fabulous monster slain by Bellerophon. In the Doric ximaira denoted a young she goat under a year old. Compare English gimmer, a female or ewe lamb not a year old. Possibly all these words may have meant “the wild animal” originally.

To return to the goat. At the present time it is a surprise to find that our word tragedy is derived from the Greek word trag-os, a he goat, through trag-odia, tragedy (literally, “goatsong,” from Greek ode, a song or ode); trag-ic, from Greek

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trag-ikos, literally goatish. One authority gives the explanation that a he goat was the prize given for the best tragic poem in a competition, “probably,” as Professor Skeat says, “because a goat (as the spoiler of the vines) was sacrificed to the Greek god Dionysus (Latin, Bacchus).” This latter theory, however, will not explain the connection between a goat and the tragic poem.

It is worthy of note that, in the German, zeigel and geiss are used in the feminine only, as denoting the she goat, as though they, being the more numerous members of the flock (fifty to one against the male animal—bock), gave the designation to the species. In olden times the males of the flock were chiefly killed for food, which is well shown in the Bible stories of entertainment of visitors and sacrificial rites. Observe the following: Zeigel-bock and geiss-bock, a male goat; geiss-rebe = goat-vine, the honeysuckle—i.e., the climber: perhaps from this Professor Skeat connects the goat and the vine, as “the spoiler of the vines”: also geiss-blatt (“goat-leaf”), the honeysuckle; geiss-melker, the bird goatsucker or night-jar, in French tette-chèvre, teat goat.

The goat being the earliest of the truly domesticated animals tamed by man, gives us the word butcher, through French bouc; old French boc, a male goat; French, bouch-er; mid-English, bocker, a butcher (literally, “one who kills goats”). The name bukka, a goat, extends even to the Sanskrit; but in German a butcher is fleischer, fleisch-hacker, and fleisch-hauer, derived from fleisch, flesh or meat.

In the word pheasant we are reminded that this game-bird was of comparatively late introduction to the forests of Europe, the name being derived from Phasis, a river in Colchis, to the east of the Euxine or Black Sea.

The domestic fowl is said to have reached Europe 600 B.C., but was domesticated in China 1200 B.C., and it is remarkable that the sexes of other birds should in many European languages be named after those of the domestic fowl. As the goat denoted the sex in certain animals, so the use of cock and hen signified the sexes of birds.


Art. X.—On the New Zealand Lamprey.

[Read before the Philosophical Institute of Canterbury, 6th November, 1901.]

The lamprey has been found in New Zealand in three well-marked stages of growth—the Ammocœtes, the larval form, very similar to the corresponding stage in the European lamprey; the adult Geotria, with a well-developed gular pouch; and the Velasia, a form intermediate between the other two, with no gular pouch. Little is known of its life-history or habits; but in October the Velasia come up some of the rivers in shoals, and are caught by the Maoris for food, and the Maoris say that they come down again in December with gular pouches. Very few specimens of any stage have hitherto been preserved, but recently a large number of Velasia were sent to us alive from the Mataura River, up which they were making their annual migration, and as regards this stage we were able to work from the fresh material.

Both the Velasia stage and the adult Geotria were first described by Gray in 1851, and were classified by him as distinct genera (Geotria and Velasia) of the family Petromy-zonidœ. Gunther, in 1870, ranks the two forms as separate species of the genus Geotria; the pouched form he calls Geotria australis, and the Velasia he calls Geotria chilensis, since Geotria in the Velasia stage was first discovered in Chili. Recently Ogilby, in reclassifying the Australian lampreys, reverts to Gray's system of classification, and places the two forms in different genera.

Before minutely examining the animals themselves it had occurred to us that possibly, since the larval Ammocœtes was formerly regarded as a separate genus, a similar mistake had been made in the case of the Velasia, which might be only an intermediate form (since it was only found in New Zealand, Australia, and Chili, where the Geotria was also found), and that, if Velasia and Geotria actually were distinct species, it

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was impossible to account for some forms which have been found intermediate between the Velasia stage and the adult. Günther himself, in speaking of one such form, suggests that Velasia may possibly develope a gular pouch later in life, in which case the distinction between the two forms would be doubtful. Ogilby, however, as already noted, actually reverts to the idea of a generic difference between the two. The distinctions upon which the old classifications were based are merely external ones—the shape and size of the oral disc, the position of the teeth, the presence or absence of a gular pouch, and the shape and position of the fins.

In the Velasia stage the head is small, the oral disc is round and small, and the teeth are closely packed together in rows, whilst in the adult Geotria the head region is enormously developed, the oral disc being very large and flattened on the lower margin, owing to the growth of the gular pouch below it; and the teeth, which, as we have ascertained by careful examination, correspond in number and position to the teeth of the Velasia form, are some distance apart, owing to the growth of the disc between them. The gular pouch is, of course, only fully developed in the adult Geotria, but intermediate forms have been found possessing a slight gular pouch.

There is no very great difference between the fins of the Velasia and the adult. They are larger and situated relatively farther forward in the Velasia, but they change gradually with the growth of the animal, and we have a series of four specimens which exhibit the different conditions of the fins at different stages in life.

Fourteen specimens of the Velasia which were dissected were found to be sexually immature, males and females, whilst the only two pouched forms which we have dissected are sexually mature, or nearly so. None of the former observers appear to have examined the internal anatomy at all, but have drawn their conclusions from the external differences, probably because of the scarcity of material at their disposal.

In other respects the Velasia closely resembles the adult, but is longer and thinner. We could not compare the living forms, as we have not yet been able to obtain a fully grown Geotria alive, and we find by experiment that spirit-preserved specimens undergo considerable shortening.

As the two generic names Velasia and Geotria have been applied to the same animal, we have had to decide which to retain, and, following Gunther's nomenclature, we propose to call the adult form Geotria australis, and to use the term “Velasia” to distinguish the intermediate form, just as the term “Ammocœtes” is still used to distinguish the larva.

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Thus it appears that, whereas the northern lampreys of the genus Petromyzon undergo only one metamorphosis—namely, from the Ammocœates to the adult—the southern form (Geotria) undergoes two well-marked changes, from the Ammocœtes to the Velasia, and then from the Velasia to the adult, which latter represents a further stage in development never reached by the northern forms.

Art. XI.—Note on an Entire Egg of a Moa, now in the Museum of the University of Otago.

[Read before the Otago Institute, 11th June, 1901.]

Plate VII.

Fragments of moa eggshell and more or less complete eggs have long been known, but the acquisition of an absolutely uninjured egg is of some interest, both on its own account and on account of the manner in which it was obtained. As far as I am aware, no entire egg is on exhibition in any museum. The specimen obtained at Kaikoura was injured by the pick in excavation.

The egg which forms the subject of this note was secured by a dredge-hand on the Earnscleugh gold-dredge, working on the River Molyneux, Otago.

The bank of the river is composed of very fine river-silt, and was formerly cultivated as a farm. It is so fine that when dug and dried it soon becomes reduced to fine powder, and is blown away in impalpable dust. The river, especially when in flood, scours the bank considerably, and it was after such a scouring, and when, fortunately, the dredge was not actually at work, that the egg was set free from the silt, and, floating in the river, drifted into the “well” between the two pontoons of the dredge. Luckily it was observed floating here and secured by one of the men, who also noted the hollow in the bank left by its removal, at about 14 ft. below the surface of the ground.

The egg was acquired for the Otago Museum through the kind services of Mr. Alexander Black, of Dunedin, who obtained it from the dredge-hand for £50, towards which Mr. Black himself and the Otago Institute contributed £5 each, while the balance was paid by the University.

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It is not my intention to enter into a detail account of the structure of the eggshell, but I append references to literature in which these details will be found.

The present egg has the usual pale-buff colour. The surface is more or less worn or dissolved away by the action probably of the water passing through the soil; and, in comparison with various fragments of eggs from elsewhere, the surface is not shiny, though worn smooth, but over two areas at opposite ends of the equator the surface is fairly perfect. It is here marked by numerous small pits and short linear furrows of various lengths and depths (vide Hutton), but averaging 1 mm. in length. They are irregularly arranged, but always disposed lengthwise. There are about twenty such furrows to the square centimeter, and about as many pits; but the relative numbers vary in different parts, for by comparing this complete specimen with other less perfect eggs, in which the surface is not weathered, it appears that the pits are rather more numerous towards the poles and the linear furrows round the equator. In shape this moa's egg is relatively longer and narrower than that of an ostrich, and in this particular specimen one pole is slightly larger than the other; but in this matter there appears to be some variability in moas' eggs. I have seen others in which the two poles are precisely alike. The following measurements were taken: Length between vertical uprights, 195 mm. (7 ¾); breadth between vertical uprights, 135 mm. (5 ¼ in.); greatest circumference, 522 mm. (20 ½ in.); lesser circumference (equatorial), 428 mm. (16 ⅞ in.); weight, 286.5 grammes.

I had an opportunity of examining a second entire egg, which was obtained some months later by the same man about a hundred yards below the spot at which our specimen was taken. The egg had been dipped in shellac (?), and was in a very dirty condition when it was brought to the Museum in order that the taxidermist might clean it before its transmission to London for sale. He refused, however, to undertake the responsibility. I took the following measurements, from which it will appear that this second egg was rather larger than our specimen; the two ends were similar, so that the egg was a perfect ovoid: length, 201 mm.; breadth, 138 mm.; greater circumference, 540 mm.; lesser circumference, 440 mm. I did not weigh it.

Both these eggs, as well as two or three other more or less damaged specimens that have been through my hands, appear to belong to the same species of moa, if we may judge from their agreement in dimensions. As the commonest genus in Otago was Euryapteryx, we may safely regard some species of this genus as the parent. It would be dangerous, however, to attempt to indicate the species, for size of egg is no guide to

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size of bird, as we know from the extraordinary disproportion between the great egg and the small body of the kiwi; but I think we may go so far as to say that this egg was laid by either E. ponderosus or E. elephantopus.


Enys, J. D.: Trans. N.Z. Inst., iv., 1871, p. 403. (Discovery of the Kaikoura egg.)

Hector, Sir J.: Proc. Zool. Soc., 1867, p. 991; Trans. N.Z. Inst., iv., 1871, p. 110, also p. 363, pl. iv. (Egg with remains of embryo.)

Hutton, F. W.: Trans. N.Z. Inst., iv., p. 166. (Microscopical structure.)

Liversidge: Trans. N.Z. Inst., xiii., p. 225. (Analysis.)

Nathusius: Zeit. f. Wiss. Zool., 1871.

Newman: Zoologist, 1886, p. 34. (Account of the Kaikoura egg.)

Owen: Extinct Birds of N.Z., vol. i., p. 317.

Rowley: Ornithol. Miscell., iii., 240.

Explanation of Plate VII.
Photograph of moa's egg (reduced).

Art. XII.—An Account of the External Anatomy of a Baby Rorqual (Balænoptera rostrata).

[Read before the Otago Institute, 11th June, 1901.]

On Monday, 6th August, 1900, I was informed that a “young whale, about 12 ft. long, had been cast ashore on the beach outside the Otago Heads.” It was offered to me for a sum of money, and I arranged to purchase it. It turned out to be a young rorqual, about 10 ft. long overall, in excellent condition, the skin being damaged here and there, partly from being handled no doubt, partly from being cast ashore. On Tuesday I had photographs taken of it in various positions, and, with the help of Mr. Hamilton, made measurements and observations on its outer anatomy. On Wednesday I had a mould taken of it, and was able to commence dissection on

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that afternoon while the cast was being made. The cast is now exhibited in the University Museum.

Colour: In its general colouration it agrees pretty closely with the description given by Von Haast (Trans., xiii.). The upper surface of head and back is dark-grey—practically black, including dorsal fin and dorsal surface of the caudal fluke. The belly is pure snow-white (which after exposure to rain and air during twenty-four hours became a bluish-white). The lower jaw is very dark-grey, fading rapidly to white a few inches below the gape. Behind the angle of the mouth the colour is paler grey. The pectoral limb dorsally is grey, deepening to black along the posterior margin; but the tint gets lighter towards the anterior margin, which is white. The line of junction between grey and white is about on a level with the mouth, the base of the pectoral limb, and the caudal fluke. But the tone of the grey varies: Above the base of the pectoral are wavy lines of dark and light grey, obliquely vertical, with the upper ends directed backwards, one of which is particularly noticeable, starting from the axilla upwards and backwards; a second, more or less parallel to this, lies above the base of the pectoral. About midway along the body the darker tint is more extensive, invading the generally lighter grey, so as to form an irregularly oval darker patch about midway between pectoral and dorsal fins.

Mouth: The roof of the mouth is bright-pink; the baleen, which forms but a narrow band on each side—only about 1 ¾ in. broad at its broadest—is purplish-pink for about half its depth, the free ends—that is, about lower half—being pink. But during the day these colours changed to pink and almost white respectively. The base of the baleen is yellowish.

The tongue is pink; the back of mouth pink, with a few black pigment spots. The tongue itself is margined laterally along the region that is free (which is 8 in. in length) with thin fleshy folds, irregular in shape and size, vertically disposed, overlapping one another; soft, flexible, and no doubt an aid in capturing food.

Hair: There are about fifteen hairs on each side of the face, and evidence, in the presence of follicles, of five or six more. On the chin, or anterior rounded extremity of the lower jaw, are two vertical rows of hair-follicles, from most of which a single short white hair protruded. Each pit is very distinctly marked, owing to the very dark-grey colour round its margin. The two rows, one of which presented seven the other eight follicular pits, are about ¼ in. apart, though the upper pair of pits are distinctly more widely separated. There is a space of about ¼ in. between each pit of a vertical row. The bristles, of which I counted six on the right and four on the left side, issuing from the upper pits of

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each row, are about ⅛ in. long. Along the upper and lower jaws is a horizontal series of similar white hairs of larger size. Along the upper jaw is a row of four bristles, and two or three black hairless follicular pits anteriorly. The first hair is 8 ¾ in. from anterior end of the snout, the last 15 ¾ in., and the series lies about 1 ½ in. above the lower margin of jaw. The hairs on the lower jaw constitute a row of five bristles, the first of which is 10 in. from the anterior end, the last 15 ½ in. The row slopes downward posteriorly, so that, while the first hair is 1 ½ in. below the upper margin, the last is 5 ½ in. below. The hair is ½ in. in length. This line follows, more or less accurately, the line of junction between grey and white. The spaces between bristles, starting from anterior end of series, are: 1 ¾ in., 2 ¾ in., 1 ½ in., 1 ½ in.

The baleen is coloured as above. Each row forms an elegant curve close to the outer margin of the roof of the mouth. The right and left rows nearly meet anteriorly, where each is very narrow and the baleen short. The rows then diverge, following the outline of the jaw, but behind the angle of the gape curve inwards for a short distance. The total length of the row, measured in a straight line, is 1 ft. 9 in. The greatest distance separating the rows is 6 ¼ in. This, then, is maximum width of palate. The greatest length of baleen is 4 ¼ in., and this is not the outermost margins; the breadth is 1 ¾ in., which is retained for greater part of course.

The animal was a young female, and had not long been born, as the navel was a slit-like depression 2 in. long and about ½ in. deep, with vascular walls; it is situated 5 ft. 4 in. from tip of lower jaw. On each side the skin shows a pink patch a short distance above the navel. The navel is situated in an oval or diamond-shaped area with rounded angles, limited by a shallow furrow, and from the posterior angle a distinct furrow passes backwards to the urino-genital depression, or vulva, which lies 1 ft. 5 in. behind it.

This vulva is slit-like, the lips being close together; but this slit, which is 6 ½ in. long, bifurcates posteriorly, leaving a small triangular area, which is the base of a ridge which can be traced forwards into the vestibule. On pressing apart the lips a deep depression is visible, the bottom of which is surrounded by a folded wall. The depression is funnel-shaped, but compressed laterally, and along the anterior and posterior sloping wall a ridge passes downwards towards the bottom. The anterior ridge terminates in a freely projecting subconical clitoris, overhanging the urinary aperture, which is transversely extended and has soft plicated lips.

The clitoris is separated from the ridge by a transverse curved furrow. The posterior ridge is at its base more prominent, but gradually diminishes towards the bottom of

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the pit; it terminates at the hinder margin of an irregularly rounded vaginal aperture, the lateral margins of which are folded in the usual way.

The mammary clefts are situated on either side of the hinder region of the vulva, and about 1 ½ in. from it. Each slit is about 1 in. in length, and is the opening of a pit 1 indeep, from the bottom of which a small rounded nipple rises upwards. Above each mammary cleft, about 1 in. from it, is a shallow furrow parallel with it, marking out with it a slightly rounded area.

The anus, which lies a short distance behind the vulva, is 2 ft. 5 in. from the middle cleft of caudal fin.

The characteristic gular furrows extend from about 4 in from anterior end of jaw for a distance of 4 ft. 8 in., terminating behind the level of the flipper. There are forty-five furrows between the two flippers, while further forward the number is increased, and at the angle of the mouth eight additional short furrows exist, on each side, dorsal of the longer ones. Each ridge which separates two furrows is ½ in. wide. These ridges are not produced by mere folding of the skin, but are delimited by straight grooves, ½ in. deep, into which the epidermis, of course, dips. But in transverse section of the skin it is evident that the blubber does not share in the folding, for its inner surface is plane, and consequently it is of less thickness below the furrows than below the ridges, where it measures 1 ¼ in. The middle series of furrows are rather shorter than the more laterally placed ones, whose length is given above; the ventral rugæ being 4 ft. 2 ½ in., and beginning 8 ½ in. from chin.

Measurements of External Features.
Ft. in.
Total length from tip of snout to end of fluke, measured over back 10 5
Length of body—i.e., to notch in fluke 10 1
" " (in straight line) 9
Length of upper jaw, tip to angle of gape 1 10
" lower jaw 1 11
Tip of snout to anterior base of pectoral limb 3 2
" axilla 3 9
" base of dorsal fin 6 9
Length of base of dorsal fin 0 8
Height (greatest) of dorsal fin 0 4
Distance from posterior margin of dorsal fin to tip of body—i.e., median notch of fluke 2 8
Distance of vulva from anterior end 7 6
Greatest circumference of body, at a distance of 5 ft. 7 in. from snout 5
Circumference at axilla 4 11½
" middle of dorsal fin (but, of course, excluding it) 3 6
" immediately anterior to root of fluke 1

Weight, about 12 owt. (estimated).

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Measurements of Head.
Ft. in.
Gape 1 10
Tip of snout to anterior corner of eye 1 11
  Length 0
  Height 0
  Distance from posterior angle of eye 0 5
  Length of auditory cleft 0 5
Nostrils (blowholes)—
  Tip of snout to anterior end 1 4
  Length of nostril 0
  Distance between anterior ends 0 2 ¾
  " posterior ends 0
Length of median internasal furrow 0
Pectoral fin—
  Distance from snout 3 2
  Breadth of base 0 7
  Length along preaxial margin 1 8
  " postaxial margin 1 8
  Breadth (greatest) 0 5
Caudal fluke—
  Breadth (greatest) at end 2 4
  Length, from root* 1 5
  Length, behind end of body* 0
Breadth of body at base of c.f. 0

[After this article was set up I received from Sir William Turner his account of “The Lesser Rorqual in Scottish Seas,” in Proc. R.S. Edin., 1892, xix., p. 36, in which he gives full details of external anatomy of several specimens. I regret that I cannot make use of the facts for comparison.]

Art. XIII.—Notes on Gogia breviceps, the Lesser Sperm Whale.

[Read before the Otago Institute, 8th October, 1901.]

On the 30th August, 1900, I heard from Mr. Stronach, of Dunedin, that a small whale had been beached at Purakanui, and at once arranged to go down next day with the taxidermist, Mr. E. Jennings, to inspect it. On our arrival we ascertained that the whale had been driven ashore on the preceding Friday—just a week before. We obtained the services of Mr. Ewart, the fisherman living at the entrance of the bay, who rowed us across to the sandy spit that projects

[Footnote] * Measured three days after death. The sides had curved somewhat. The length is too great.

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from the north side of the bay, and showed us the whale. We found the carcase just above high-water mark, nearly imbedded in sand, which had thus preserved the animal from decay, so that it appeared quite fresh. On removing the sand we discovered that the animal had been a good deal cut about—the head had been disarticulated from the vertebral column, and lay near at hand; the lower jaw, however, had been removed, and the top of the head had been injured by the removal of the little spermaceti contained there. The dorsal wall of the body had, likewise, been cut away for the blubber, and with it the dorsal fin. The tail-flukes were also missing, and the abdomen had been opened by a cut through the right sternal ribs, and the viscera lay outside the body.

Owing to the damage done I was unable to trace the true outlines of the body, or to locate the dorsal fin. This is the more to be regretted since specimens of this whale are rare; but fortunately Von Haast was able to give some further details of his specimen. Through the kind offices of Mr. Ewart I was, however, able to obtain the flukes from the Maori who had first discovered the whale, and who had cut away the blubber, &c.; and at a later period I obtained the lower jaw from a fisherman, who had retained and cleaned the bone as a “curio.” Thus I obtained the entire skeleton—not a bone was missing.* The carcase was conveyed to Dunedin, together with some of the viscera—the stomach, larynx, generative organs—an account of which I have forwarded to the Zoological Society of London.

The “short-headed sperm whale” has been described from our seas in the Transactions by Dr. Von Haast under the name of Euphysetes pottsn, but cetaceologists are now agreed that the various whales described as various species—Euphysetes simus, Owen, from India; Euph. grayii, Wall, and Euph. macleayi, Krefft, from the Australian seas; K. floweri, Gill, from the American coast of the North Pacific; and our New Zealand form—are all members of one and the same species—viz., Kogia breviceps, originally described by De Blainville from a specimen from the Cape of Good Hope.

The various differences relied upon by these authors as of specific value are merely such as are due either to differences of sex or of age, or individual variations in the various specimens taken in various localities.

The specimen under consideration was a male, not quite

[Footnote] * With the possible exception of the pelvic bone.

[Footnote] † See my papers—(1) “On the Larynx of certain Whales,” P.Z.S., 1901, vol. i., p. 278; (2) “On the Anatomy of Cogia breviceps,” 1901, vol. ii., p. 107.

[Footnote] ‡ So spelt by Gray; but Flower, in his text-book on mammalia, spells it “Cogia.”

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fully grown, measuring 8 ft. 9 in. from tip of the snout to the bottom of the notch in the fluke; Von Haast's was a young female, the length of which was only 7 ft. 2 in.* I took no measurements of girth, as the animal was too much injured for such measurements to have any value.

The flipper, or pectoral limb, measured 14 in. in a straight line from base to tip, or 15 in. along the slightly curved anterior margin. Its breadth was 5½ in. across the widest part, and 5 in. across the base. The form of the flipper is shown in the figure. The anterior margin has a regular, slightly convex curve; the posterior margin is angulated, the angle being rounded, and enclosed by a shorter proximal limb of 4 in. and a longer distal concave limb of 8 in. in length.

The tail-flukes measured 2 ft. 3 in. across their ends; each fluke is 12 in. across (parallel to the axis of the body) in its widest part; the median notch between the two flukes is 5½ in. deep, measured from a line joining the two tips of the flukes.

The head measured 1 ft. 4 in.—in other words, is rather less than one-sixth the total length of the body, in which it is contained six and a half times.

One of the most interesting of the anatomical features is the asymmetry of the blowhole and of the structures related to “spouting.” The single blowhole, or left nostril, lies on the upper surface of the head; is crescentic, with the convenity forwards and outwards, and therein differing from the usual form in Odontocetes. The distance between the horns of the crescent is 2½ in.; the inner (mesial) horn being rather further forward (1½ in.) than the outer one, and about 12 in. from the tip of the snout (measured after the blubber had been removed). Von Haast states that the “slit was 2 in. long, of which 1½ in. was on the left side and½ in. on the right side.” In my own specimen it appeared to be wholly on the left of the middle line.

Without going into details, which I have published elsewhere, I may briefly describe the apparatus connected with the blowhole. The crescent leads into a wide, shallow pit or vestibule, closed by a fleshy valve, on raising which the two nostrils are seen. The left one is a wide crescentic aperture leading into a wide circular and simple canal, which passes directly downwards through the skull to open into the naso-palatine canal which communicates with the mouth by the posterior nares. The right nostril is, however, very small and slit-like, situated at extreme right corner of the vestibule, and the canal into which it leads passes obliquely forwards and down-

[Footnote] * This is precisely the length given by Mr. Elliott, who supplied Professor Owen with the material on which his paper is founded. (See Trans. Zool. Soc., vi., p. 172.)

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wards to open into a large chamber, 5in. by 3 in. in diameter; thence a short canal passes into a second chamber of less dimensions, the hinder wall of which rests against the roof of the skull. The anterior wall is fleshy, and evidently capable of considerable movement in contraction and expansion. This lower chamber is somewhat pear-shaped, with the narrow end downwards, and thence a very narrow short canal opens into the naso-palatine canal.

[The section below cannot be correctly rendered as it contains complex formatting. See the image of the page for a more accurate rendering.]

Owing to the removal of the lower jaw I am unable to describe the form, size, or position of the mouth, which is described by other zoologists as small, and situated some distance from the tip of the snout. The lower jaw is provided on each side with thirteen conical, pointed, and slightly curved teeth; each tooth fits into a pit in the gum of the upper jaw. In the upper jaw are only two teeth, situated far forward, and carried by the premaxillary bones. On the right side the tooth projected from the gum for 3/16 in., but the left tooth had only just “cut” the gum, so that only the extreme tip projected.

The alimentary canal had been torn out of the body, but the stomach was preserved and the intestines and contents examined. The length of the intestine is about 32 yards, of which the small intestine measured 30 yards; then it dilated to form a great sac a yard or so in length and 10 in. across, filled with dark-brown, almost black, fluid of considerable consistency, which consists of “sepia,” or contents of the ink-sacs of the cuttlefishes upon which the whale had fed. The stomach contained great quantities of squid-beaks, lenses of squids' eyes, and pens of squids. Von Haast's suggestion that the whale feeds on “smaller hydroid zoophytes” is an error, due partly to the absence of beaks in the stomach of his specimen. Van Beneden and Gervais suggest, from the form of the teeth, that Cogia probably feeds on fishes (p. 354) rather than cuttles. I found no trace of fish.

The Skeleton.

As I have above indicated, I was able to obtain a complete skeleton.* There is one bone which, however, may have been present—the pelvic bone. But I carefully examined the region in which it should lie, and, moreover, removed and dissected the penis, of which an illustrated account appears in another journal.

[Footnote] * This skeleton has been purchased by the Cambridge University Zoological Museum; and an illustrated account of certain bones has been laid before the Zoological Society by me, and will be published in a forthcoming volume of the Proceedings of the Society.

[Footnote] † P.Z.S., 1901, vol. ii., p. 107.

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Now, as is known, certain structures—the corpora cavernosa—are attached to the pelvis in mammals, and in some whales the bone is almost imbedded in this structure; but in Cogia I was unable to find it. On the other hand, Wall describes and figures the pelvis as consisting of four bones in a transverse row, an inner and outer, more or less quadrangular plates, on each side. I feel certain that no such bones existed in my specimen, for I looked specially for them. We may, I think, conclude that the pelvis is absent, and in this respect Cogia differs from the sperm whale.

The length of the vertebral column when the cleaned bones were set in position touching one another is 6 ft. 8 in., which, with the skull, measuring 1 ft. 3½ in., gives a total of 7 ft. 11½ in. for the axial skeleton. To this must be added several inches for the intravertebral discs. The epiphyses are separate.

The seven cervicals are in this genus entirely fused; and the usual evidences of the individual vertebræ, such as neural arches, spines, and transverse processes, are almost entirely obliterated. The atlas has its outlines distinct enough, and the neural arch and transverse process of the second vertebra are evident, while the seventh is also well marked out, but the intervening four vertebræ are so fused that it is practically impossible to distinguish their boundaries:—

[The section below cannot be correctly rendered as it contains complex formatting. See the image of the page for a more accurate rendering.]

Cervical Vertebral Mass.
Greatest Length. Greatest Height. Height. Breadth.
Anterior. Posterior. Anterior. Posterior.
45 mm. 107 mm. 30 mm. 38 mm. 126 mm. 57 mm.

In this case the total length is measured along the ventral mid-line; the height, from the ventral mid-line to tip of the neural spine, which projects backwards from the hinder end of the mass, which is, really, the height of the 7th cervical vertebra. The anterior central breadth is across the facets from the occipital condyles.

This cervical mass is followed by forty-six free vertebræ, giving a total of fifty-three vertebræ, of which thirteen are thoracic, bearing ribs,* nine are lumbar, and twenty-three are caudal, of which the first thirteen bear chevrons. Von Haast's

[Footnote] * The 13th thoracic has on left side a small articular surface at the end of the transverse process, but on the right side this is absent.

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specimen contained only fifty vertebræ, which are made up of seven cervical, twelve thoracic, eleven lumbar, and twenty caudal, with only eight chevrons. Wall's Australian specimen contains fifty-one vertebræ—seven cervical, fourteen thoracic, nine lumbar, and twenty-one caudal—with thirteen chevrons; Krefft's, fifty-five vertebræ—seven cervical, thirteen thoracic, nine lumbar, and twenty-six caudal—with ten chevrons. In Wall's specimen the 14th rib is represented in the figure as quite a small nodule, entirely unconnected with the vertebral column, and is only 11½ in. in length, in contrast to the 13th rib, measuring 11½ in. In Krefft's specimen, too, the last (13th) rib is much smaller (4 in.) than the 12th (12 in.) on the left side.

In addition to the twelve pairs of long ribs, the measurements of which are given below, I found amongst the débris of the macerating-pan, which had been carefully preserved by the taxidermist (Mr. Jennings, who took a very great deal of trouble to preserve every piece of bone and cartilage), a small bone, measuring 1½ in. in length (i.e., 35 mm.) by about ⅜ in. (9 mm.) in greatest breadth: this appears to be a 13th rib of the left side. One end of this small bone is broader than the other, and appears to be the lower end. One surface of this bone is flat, the other strongly convex, and the general form agrees precisely with the shape of the 12th rib just below its curved region. Moreover, we found a long piece of cartilage, 4 in. long, broader at one end and pointed at the other, flattened and curved, which I believe to be the unossified distal portion of the rib. The proximal cartilage which may have connected this rib to the 13th thoracic vertebra is, unfortunately, missing; possibly the connection was ligamentous. We found no corresponding bone for the right side, but a short piece of cartilage, about 1 in. in length, corresponding to the upper end of the aforementioned cartilage, indicating the possible existence of a 13th rib on right side. There can be no doubt but that, except in a very carefully macerated skeleton, this last rib would be overlooked, and in skeletons found on shore there is little likelihood of its being preserved.

The figure given by Wall (who only found the ribs of right side and the 1st left rib) is wrong, in that he places this 14th rib in line with the lower end of the preceding one; it should be in line with the upper end, just where the curve commences to descend.

Van Beneden and Gervais, in the brief account (p. 515) given of an incomplete skeleton from Japan, find thirteen thoracic vertebræ, recognisable by articular facets for ribs, but add “there may have been fourteen pairs of ribs, the last being free.”

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Measurement of Vertebræ
Centrum. Hypapophysis.
Vertebra. Length. Height. Breadth. Transverse Diameter. Vertical Diameter.
Anterior Face. Posterior Face. Anterior Face. Posterior Face. Anterior Face. Posterior Face.
Mm. Mm. Mm. Mm. Mm. Mm. Mm. Mm. Mm.
Thoracic 1 25 87 106 43 47 38
" 2 31 123 112 44 44 38
" 3 35 135 111 42 43 39
" 4 40 143 108 40 45 40
" 5 40 149 106 42 44 38
" 6 42 148 100 43 47 38
" 7 44 150 105 43 46 38 41
" 8 47 154 114 45 46 40 43
" 9 50 157 130 47 49 42
" 10 51 161 142 50 51 45
" 11 53 165 157 50 53 44 47
" 12 55 170 164 54 55 47 49
" 13 56 172 182 54 55 48 50 2
Lumbar 1 57 183 181 57 48 52 13
" 2 58 184 184 58 57 57 53 15 12
" 3 59 189 185 59 57 53 19 20
" 4 61 191 185 58 59 53 55 21 20
" 5 60 192 183 59 57 54 56 21 21
" 6 69 189 181 58 58 54 57 22 25
" 7 59 182 177 59 58 55 57 25 25
" 8 59 177 173 58 58 54 57 23 20
" 9 59 163 165 60 60 56 56 20 17
Caudal 1 58 145 154 60 55 58 12
" 2 57 122 145 60 57 58
" 3 55 112 128 58 56 57
" 4 53 102 108 57 9 55
" 5 50 96 92 56 55 54 53
" 6 48 92 80 55 54 52 53
" 7 46 84 70 54 51 52 50
" 8 44 73 58 52 49 50 49
" 9 41 70 54 50 49 49 46
" 10 40 65 50 50 45 49 45
" 11 37 57 42 46 45 45 46
" 12 32 50 38 43 41 43 41
" 13 26 40 41 40 36 35 36
" 14 21 33 36 32 26 30 29
" 15 19 29 34 30 24 26 20
" 16 18 24 32 26 22 23 18
" 17 16 24 31 24 20 20 16
" 18 14 20 27 21 22 18 18
" 19 13 18 25
" 20 13 15 22
" 21 12 11 19
" 22 12 11 15
" 23 10 8 11
– 162 –

The foregoing table gives the principal measurements of the vertebrae: these are in millimeters, and taken with calipers. The length of the vertebra is the length of centrum measured from the centres of the epiphyses. The height is the greatest distance from the ventral surface of the centrum to tip of the neural spine. The breadth is taken from tip to tip of the tranverse processes where they exist, or across the widest part of centrum where the transverse processes are absent. The diameters of the centrum, or body of the vertebrae, are taken at the anterior and posterior extremities of the body itself.

It will be noted that the bodies of the vertebrae increase in size up to the middle of the lumbar series, and then decrease. This increase is quite gradual, but in the case of the decrease in height there is a sudden drop at the end of the lumbar series, owing to the sudden diminution of the neural spine. The bodies of the vertebrae are much larger in the middle of the vertebral column, the greater number of caudals having larger centres than the thoracics, which are relatively slender.

The hinder caudals, as in other whales, are incompletely formed—i.e., the neural arch is imperfectly closed above; the 11th caudal has no neural spine, though the right and left neural laminae meet, but in the 12th they do not meet, and by the 14th they are practically non-existent, so that the 15th et seq. consist of centrum only. The lumbar vertebrae exhibit a peculiarity, which appears to be characteristic, in the presence of the anterior and posterior prominences on the ventral surface of the centra, in the mid-line.

I have not thought it necessary to reproduce my detailed notes as to the form of the individual vertebrae. They are, on the whole, closely similar to those of the sperm whale (Physeter macrocephalus) as described by Flower; while the general appearance of the entire skeleton has been figured—more or less imperfectly, it is true—by Owen, Wall, Van Beneden and Gervais, and Von Haast.

The Chevrons.—The usual form of these bones is Y-shaped—i.e., each consists of a right and left lamina meeting at an acute angle, and the fused plate so formed is produced down-wards to form a keel. But there are variations of this type. The 1st chevron is U-shaped, each lamina having an outer face which is very convex; and, further, they only meet over a comparatively short area, so that there is no keel. The 7th, again, is V-shaped, the keel being practically absent; while the 12th is a short half-cylinder of bone with a shallow groove on its upper surface. It will be noticed that the 3rd chevron is the largest of the series.

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Chevron Bonds.
Vertical Diameter (Height). Antero-posterior Diameter (Length). Transverse Diameter (Breadth).
Mm. Mm. Mm.
1st 39 28 30
2nd 61 26 35
3rd 70 33 36
4th 65 29 35
5th 57 27 37
6th 50 26 34
7th 41 25 32
8th 32 25 29
9th 28 25 28
10th 24 23 26
11th 20 21 24
12th 17 17 22
13th 10 12 20

The Ribs.—of the thirteen ribs four are connected to the sternum by sternal ribs. The first vertebral rib, as in other cases, is much stouter and shorter than the following. It is broad, compressed antero-posteriorly and expanded distally. It has a distinctly marked “angle” near the proximal extremity, below which it curves suddenly downwards and inwards to meet its sternal rib. The proximal extremity bears distinct capitulum and tuberculum, as Von Haast noted, and herein our New Zealand specimens appear to differ from Wall's specimen; while in Physeter, which is its nearest ally, Flower states that these are not separate and distinct.

The two articular facets are nearly of equal size, though the capitulum is slightly the smaller. They are separated by a small “neck” measuring 14 mm. in length. This capitulum articulates with a conspicuous facet at the side of the hinder end of the cervical mass—i.e., of the 7th cervical vertebra. The tuberculum, of course, articulates with the transverse process of the first thoracic.

The 2nd rib is much longer, but less stout; it is flattened and broad, however, like the first.

The capitulum and tuberculum are separated by a distance of 20 mm., the former being rather the larger facet of the two. The angle is well marked, but less acute than in the first rib, and the curvature is more gradual.

In this and the following four ribs the capitulum articulates with the posterior end of the preceding vertebra only, and not with its own vertebra.

The 3rd to 6th ribs are practically similar, but the curvature is different, for in the first place the angle is less

– 164 –

marked in all the ribs following the 2nd, and the curvature is more gentle and regular. The upper region, instead of being horizontal, is inclined downwards, and this general form is retained by the rest; but the convexity of the curve decreases. so that the ribs, as traced backwards, tend to become straighter.

In the 7th and following ribs the capitulum ceases to articulate with any vertebra; it is bluntly pointed, and probably connected by ligament to the column.

The 13th rib has been described.

There is no important difference between the ribs of the right and left sides. I add a table of measurements. The length of the rib is measured in a straight line from the inner margin of its articular extremity to the inner margin of the distal extremity. The “curvature” is really the distance of the most remote point on the inner margin from the line joining the two extremities of the ribs.

Ribs. Length. Curvature.
Mm. Mm.
1st 168 72
2nd 277 100
3rd 330 115
4th 352 115
5th 355 115
6th 353 105
7th 365 93
8th 343 73
9th 312 61
10th 285 55
11th 260 46
12th 215 33
13th 35*

The sternum has not, as far as I am aware, received a detailed description by any previous author, for it was only partially recovered for Wall's specimen, and Von Haast makes no mention of it. In the present specimen it and the sternal ribs are complete. It consists of three sternebrae, the first and second formed of a single bone, the last of a pair of small bones imbedded in cartilage. There are four pairs of sternal ribs, measuring respectively 90 mm., 75 mm., 60 mm., and 30 mm.

The total length of sternum, including the cartilage at each extremity, is 260 mm.; the greatest breadth, measured just behind the articulation of the first sternal rib, is 155 mm.;

[Footnote] * Together with cartilage above and below.

– 165 –

and the least breadth, measured across last sternebra, is 45 mm.

The cartilage of this and other parts of the skeleton has been treated by the glycerine-gelatine method, and retains its true form and relations; but, since the cartilage is not likely to be present in all skeletons, I give the measurements of the bony parts as well:—

First bony sternebra— Mm.
   Length (lower surface) 90
   Breadth (anterior end) 100
   Breadth (posterior end) 60
   Thickness (dorso-ventral) in middle 10
Second bony sternebra—
   Length 76
   Breadth (anterior end) 54
   Breadth (middle) 43
   Breadth (posterior end) 51
   Thickness 12
Third bony sternebra—
   Right ossicle—Length 31
   Breadth 20
   Left ossicle—Length 32
   Breadth 20
   Thickness 13

The anterior end of the sternum is slightly bent upwards, but otherwise the bones are flat, with rounded lateral margins. The 1st sternebra is thinner at anterior than at posterior end. The thickness increases from the anterior end of sternum (where it is 8 mm.) to hinder end (13 mm.). The margin of the last sternebra—or, rather, of each of the two constituent ossicles—is not rounded, but slopes away from the dorsal surface outwards and downwards, so that the lower surface is wider than the upper (43 mm.).

The hyoid bone is very briefly referred to by Wall, and is rather more fully described by Van Beneden and Gervais, who figure it. In the Purakanui specimen it was complete, the bones and cartilages being uninjured.

The basi-hyal is a flat irregularly semicircular bone, at the anterior margin of which is a pair of cartilages, which evidently correspond to the bony apex of the basi-hyal of Physeter, but which in Cogia do not appear to ossify. The thyro-hyal bones are circular discs imbedded in a large cartilaginous plate.

The anterior cornu consists of two segments, a proximal short, curved, subcylindrical cartilage (cerato-hyal) and a longer distal region, in the middle of which is a cylindrical bone (the stylo-hyal).

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The two anterior cornua arise close to one another from the cartilages referred to as joining the anterior end of the basi-hyal.

Basi-hyal: Greatest breadth, 84 mm.;. greatest length, 66 mm.; thickness, 5 mm.; length of cartilaginous cap, 18 mm.; breadth, 20 mm.; length of ossification in thyro-hyal, 55 mm.; breadth, 46 mm.; length of each half of basi- and thyro-hyal from anterior end of cap to posterior end of cornu, 156 mm.; greatest width across external margins of posterior cornua, 188 mm.

Anterior cornu: Total length, 220mm.; cerato-hyal cartilage (along middle line), 37 mm.; stylo-hyal, 175 mm.; length of bone (along middle line), 65 mm.; thickness, 15 mm.; greatest length along hinder margin, 75 mm.

Skeleton of Fore Limb.—This has been but indistinctly figured by Von Haast, whose specimen was imperfect, and by Wall, but more accurately by Krefft. The scapula is a nearly equilateral triangle, the upper border being curved. The greater part of the outer surface (post-axial fossa) is feebly concave. The inner surface is nearly flat, but as the anterior border is slightly everted so as to form a low rounded but depressed ridge, extending nearly across the bone, and as the superior border is also somewhat everted, the inner face is slightly convex.

The spine is but feebly developed, but the acromion is a large compressed squarish process, obliquely truncated distally. It bears on its upper margin a shorter process.

The coracoid process is large and well marked, nearly as long as the acromion, but narrower. The glenoid cup is oval.

Measurements of Scapula, in Millimetres.
Greatest height (measured from highest point of superior border to anterior margin of glenoid facet) 164
Length of posterior border 107
Length of anterior border 159
From antero-posterior angle to origin of acromion 76
Breadth, greatest (from anterior to posterior angle of superior border) 184
Breadth immediately above acromion 83
Breadth from posterior margin of glenoid to tip of acromion 101
Acromion: Length 48
Acromion: Vertical height, near root 35
From posterior margin of glenoid to end of coracoid 84
From anterior margin of glenoid to end of coracoid 47
Coracoid: Height at root 22
Glenoid facet: Length 46
Glenoid facet: Width 31
– 167 –

The humerus is provided with a small deltoid crest 15 mm. long and 5 mm. in height. The head and tubercle are firmly united to the end of the shaft, as is also the distal epiphysis; but the epiphyses of the radius and ulna are not as yet united to these bones. Each of these epiphyses is still imbedded in a great mass of cartilage and is invisible in the preserved specimen; the bone can, however, be felt by probing the cartilage with a needle. The proximal epiphysial cartilage of the ulna is prolonged downwards to form a spur on the post-axial side of the limb, which in Physeter is represented by a bony olecranon. Possibly this becomes ossified in a fully matured animal, though it is not shown in Von Haast's drawings; but the photograph accompanying the second edition of Wall's paper and the woodcut in Krefft's just indicate a small process here.

The carpal bones are five in number, three in the proximal row and two in the distal. Each is an irregular circular disc of bone imbedded in cartilage, with vertical sides. The pisiform is cartilaginous. There is, too, a curious prolongation of the distal epiphysial cartilage of the radius, which extends outside the pre-axial carpal and touches the 1st meta-carpal.

In the fingers each phalanx is provided with its own epiphysial cartilage, but with no bony epiphysis, and the neighbouring cartilages are distinct, not fused as in Mystacocetes. The metacarpals are short, not much longer than the phalanges.

The 1st digit consists of a rounded metacarpal resembling a carpal. This is followed by a long phalanx and a shorter one. In the 2nd the metacarpal is broader than that of the other digits, but not so long as in the 3rd. This is followed by ten phalanges, of which the terminal is very small, and the three sub-terminals are circular. The 3rd has seven phalanges, the 4th six phalanges, and the 5th three phalanges, which are all nearly circular, as are the terminals of the other digits. On the left hand the 1st has two phalanges, rather larger than in the right; the 2nd has nine, the 3rd seven, the 4th six, and the 5th two only.

The lengths of the digits in ascending order are—I. shortest, V., IV., III., II. The following are the lengths of the digits: Right hand—The 1st measures 55 mm. along pre-axial border, and including cartilage; 2nd, 183 mm.; 3rd, 148 mm.; 4th, 102 mm.; 5th, 68 mm. The terminal cartilages are missing in the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th digits. Left hand—The 1st measures 52 mm.; 2nd, 185 mm.; 3rd, 158 mm.; 4th, 114 mm.; 5th, 52 mm.

The total length of limb from head of humerus-to tip of 2nd digit is 372 mm.

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Humerus: Length (including cartilage), 95 mm.; bone only, 65 mm. Transverse diameter of bone—Upper end, 45 mm.; lower end, 50 mm. Thickness, 24 mm.

Radius: Length along pre-axial side, 75 mm.; post-axial, 60 mm. Length of bone only (along its middle), 60 mm. Least breadth (along its middle), 30 mm. Thickness, 12 mm.

Ulna: Total length along post-axial, 63 mm.; pre-axial, 60 mm. Total length bone (in middle), 55 mm. Least breadth, 26 mm. Thickness, 10 mm. Olecranon, 25 mm.

Total breadth at distal end of R.U. (including cartilage), 80 mm.

In the 2nd edition of Wall's paper a photograph of the right limb is given, which appears to agree well with the limb of the present specimen, although the bones of the former had to be pieced together, and were not found in situ, so that the cartilaginous parts do not exhibit that characteristic feature above referred to. Wall describes “seven” carpal bones, but it is pretty evident that the “two linear transverse bones” are the distal epiphyses of the radius and ulna, at the ends of which he locates them. The remaining five are accurately shown in the photograph and described in the text. It is a more accurate representation of affairs than the woodcut illustrating Krefft's paper. The figure also seems to show the peculiar prolongation of the cartilage from the radial epiphysis towards the metacarpal of the first digit. The pisiform, however, is not shown.


1. Van Beneden and Gervais. “Ostéographie des Cétacés,’ 1880, pp. 349 and 515, pls. 20 and 61.

2. Gray. Zoology of “Erebus” and “Terror,” 1846.

3. Von Haast. Trans. N.Z. Inst., vi., 1873, p. 97.

4. Krefft. P.Z.S., 1865, p. 708.

5. Owen. Trans. Zool. Soc., vi., 1865, pp. 30 and 171.

6. Wall. “Skeleton of New Sperm Whale (Euph. grayi).” Australian Museum, 1887 (2nd ed.).

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Art. XIV.—On a Small Collection of Diptera from the Southern Islands of New Zealand.

[Read before the Philosophical Institute of Canterbury, 3rd July, 1901.]

This collection was made by myself last January, when, at the invitation of His Excellency the Earl of Ranfurly, I visited the islands in the Government steamer “Hinemoa.” The time for collecting was short. I landed once on the Snares, five times on Auckland Islands, once on Camp-bell Island, and once on Antipodes Island. From what I saw I am convinced that there are many more species to be obtained. I saw spiders on all the islands, and a millepede on Auckland Islands; but, unfortunately, my foot slipped just as I was going to put it in a bottle and I could not find it again. The common house-fly (Musca domestica) was common on the steamer, but I did not find it on any of the islands. This may be due to the fact of there being no horses on the islands. Also, Calliphora quadrimaculata came freely on board while we were lying at the Auckland Islands, but all left before we got to Camp-bell Island, only a few hours' steaming, and I did not find the species there at all. These facts show that flies are not so easily spread by steamers as is commonly supposed.

Simulium vexans.

S. vexans, Mik, Verh. d. zool.-bot. Gesell. in Wien, vol. xxxi., p. 201 (1881).

“Fern.—Nigro-fuscum, polline cinerascenti obtectum, fronte thoracisque dorso orichalceo-pilosulis; halteribus pallidis, pedibus fuscis, geniculis metatarsique posticis pallidis. Alarum venis posterioribus sat crassis. Long. corp. 3 mm., long. alar. 3.3 mm.” (Mik).

Hab. Auckland Islands. Not very abundant.

This species differs from S. australiense in being larger, in the absence of yellow spots from the shoulders, and in the femora and tibiæ being dark; also, the fifth and sixth longitudinal veins are stronger.

There are ten joints in the antennæ.

Beris micans.

B. micans, Hutton, Trans. N.Z. Inst., vol. xxxiii., p. 6 (1901). Hab. The Snares.

A single specimen. The antennæ are very dark-brown.

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Empis, sp. ind.

There is in the collection a specimen from the Auckland Islands belonging to this genus, but it is not in a sufficiently good state to allow of description.

Helophilus campbellicus, sp. nov.

Female.—Vertex blackish olivaceous, with black hairs; face, including a band above the antennæ, fulvous, shining. Antennæ black, the third joint fulvous margined with black. Proboscis black; a few white hairs on the cheeks. Thorax blackish olivaceous, with four broad grey bands and a median narrow grey line. Scutellum tawny, pale at the tip. Abdomen metallic bronzy-green, with a few scattered white hairs, especially at the sides and below. Legs fuscous; the tibiæ inside and the tarsi fulvous. Halteres fuscous, tipped with red. Alulæ white. Wings tinged with brown, the veins black, passing into brown at their insertions. Length, 11 mm.; wing, 10½ mm.

Hab. Campbell Island. A single specimen.

This species differs from H. chathamensis and from H. latifrons in the colour of the abdomen and in the white hairs with which it is partially clothed. In general appearance it closely resembles Calliphora eudypti, but I do not suppose that this is caused by mimicry.

Calliphora quadrimaculata.

Length, 10–11 mm.; wing, 9 mm.

Hab. Auckland Islands. Very common.

Calliphora icela.

Length, 8 mm.; wing, 7½ mm.

Hab. Auckland Islands. A single specimen.

Calliphora eudypti, sp. nov.

Frontal band of the head blackish-brown, the sides and cheeks brownish-yellow in some lights, brown in others, some-times yellow, with a brown transverse band. Eyes bare. Antennæ with the first and second joints brown, the third black, sometimes rufous at the base. Proboscis black. Palpi orange or tawny. Thorax bluish-black, with hoary pollen, and three longitudinal black stripes. An oval orange spot on each side of the prothorax, and another on each side of the metathorax. Scutellum bluish-black. Abdomen metallic bronzy-green, with scattered black hairs. Legs tawny or rufous; the fore femora for nearly the whole length, the middle and hind tibiæ on the basal half, black. Halteres rufous-orange. Alulæ brownish, margined with fulvous. Wings colourless; the first posterior cell open, the apical transverse

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vein only slightly curved backwards near the bend; posterior transverse vein slightly sinuated. Veins black, becoming bright-rufous at their insertions. Length, 8–10 mm.; wing, 7–8 mm.

Hab. Snares, Auckland Islands, and Campbell Island. Especially abundant at the penguin rookeries on the Snares. The Campbell Island specimens have the legs darker, and more black on the femora.

This and the following species are very different from those of New Zealand in the colour of the abdomen, and approach more to the species from Tasmania. Perhaps C. tibialis is the nearest ally of C. eudypti; but in that species the abdomen is tessellated with yellow on an olive ground, and the antennæ are fulvous.

Calliphora antipodea, sp. nov.

Head black, with a narrow white band on each side of the face below the insertion of the antennæ. Antennæ black. Thorax and scutellum blackish-blue. Abdomen metallic bronzy-green, with scattered black hairs. Legs black. Halteres rufous-orange. Wings colourless; like those of C. eudypti, except that the apical transverse vein is nearly straight. Length, 7½ mm.; wing, 7½ mm.

Hab. Antipodes Island.

This species, perhaps, comes nearest to C. clausa, of Australia; but there is no grey on the face, the third joint of the antennæ is black, there are no blue reflections on the abdomen, and the first posterior cell is not closed.

Tricophthicus villosus, sp. nov.

Vertex jet-black, face yellowish-white; antennæ and proboscis black. Third joint of the antennæ about one and a half times the length of the second; arista minutely pubescent. Eyes hairy. Palpi long and narrow. Head hairy. Thorax brownish-grey, with three obscure longitudinal black bands, generally broken; a number of short black hairs among the longer ones. Abdomen grey; the second to fourth segments with a pair of triangular black spots, the fifth segment with a central black line. Legs brown; the tibiæ lighter than the femora, which are almost black. Halteres fulvous. Alulæ brownish-white, margined with brown. Wings slightly tinged with brown; the veins dark-brown, almost black. Auxiliary vein distinct from the first longitudinal; the posterior cross-vein nearly straight. Length, 9 mm.; wing, 8 mm.

Hab. Auckland Islands.

This species differs from T. dolosus in being darker in

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colour and more hairy. The abdomen of the male is especially hairy.

Homalomyia fraxinea, Hutton.

Hab. Auckland Islands and the Antipodes.

Homalomyia fuliginosa, Hutton.

Hab. The Snares.

Limnophora aucklandica, sp. nov.

Eyes wide apart; vertex dark-brown, face yellow. Antennæ dark-brown, the third joint about one and a half times the length of the second; arista pubescent. Eyes naked. Ocellar and vertical cephalic bristles. Thorax reddish-brown, with three obscure black lines. Abdomen brown, with grey spots on each side of the segments. Legs dark-brown; the tibiæ testaceous, the femora with grey pollen. Halteres fulvous. Alulæ white, unequal. Wings without spots; the veins black, passing into fulvous at the insertions. Distance between the cross-veins about one and a half times the length of the posterior cross-vein. The sixth and seventh longitudinals well marked, the seventh rather the longer. Length, 7 mm.; wing, 7 mm.

Hab. Auckland Islands.

Cœlopa littoralis, Hutton.

Legs rather lighter in colour than in New Zealand specimens.

Hab. Auckland Islands and Campbell Island.

In this species and the next there are no oral vibrissæ, and perhaps they would be better placed in Actora. But there are no costal bristles either.

Cœlopa curvipes, sp. nov.

Vertex reddish-brown, the ocellar triangle and sides of the face grey; a spot between the antennæ rufous, dusted with grey. Antennæ piceous, the arista pubescent. Proboscis and palpi piceous. Thorax and abdomen brown, the former dusted with grey, especially on the sides. Legs fulvous; the tibiæ clouded with fuscous, but very variable. Hind legs elongated, the tibiæ much curved inwards. Halteres pale - brown. Wings colourless, unspotted, the veins brown; no bristles on the costa. Chief cross-vein short; the first posterior cell broadest opposite to the posterior cross-vein. Length, ♂ 4½ mm., ♀ 5½—6½ mm.; wing, ♂ 4 mm., ♀ 7 mm.

Hab. Auckland Island. On the sea-shore.

Easily distinguished by its elongated and curved hind legs.

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Cœlopa rufa, sp. nov.

Vertex dark-brown; the face and two first joints of the antennæ fulvous. Proboscis and palpi piceous. Thorax and abdomen brown, dusted with grey. Legs fulvous, the femora fuscous in the middle for the greater part of their length. Wings colourless; the veins brown, passing into fulvous at their insertions. Length, ♀ 5 mm.; wing, 5 mm.

Hab. The Snares.

Heteromyza laquei, sp. nov.

Fulvous, paler below than above; the thorax with several narrow dark lines; abdomen brown above. Front broad. Antennæ testaceous, the third joint nearly round, considerably longer than the second; arista bare. Oral vibrissæ present, but no bristles on the face. Three bristles in the median dorsal row of the mesonotum, not including those of the scutellum. Middle tibiæ with strong spurs, all of them with a subapical bristle. Wings pale-tawny, the costal border without any long bristles. Distance between the cross-veins about one and three-quarter times the length of the posterior cross-vein. Length, 5 mm.; wings, 5 mm.

Hab. The Snares.

This species is in appearance much like the New Zealand species of Leria, but there are no bristles on the costa.

Lauxania carbonaria, sp. nov.

Entirely black except the eyes, which are red; the abdomen with greenish submetallic reflections. Apices of the tibiæ and tarsi pale-brown. Third joint of the antennæ linear, its length about three times its breadth; the arista bare. There are two pairs of fronto-orbital bristles, none on the front; and no oral vibrissæ. Tibiæ with a preapical bristle Wings yellowish, the veins fulvous. Distance between the cross-veins about one a half times the length of the posterior cross-vein, which is three-quarters of its own length from the margin. Length, 3½ mm.; wing, 4 mm.

Hab. Auckland Islands.

Lonchæa aucklandica, sp. nov.

Front broad, blackish-grey, four fronto-orbital bristles in a row. Face with bristles, one pair of which, near the mouth, are longer than the others. Eyes red. Palpi fulvous. Antennæ short; the third joint oval, truncated, its length less than twice its breadth; the arista bare. Thorax and abdomen black. Femora black, the tibiæ and tarsi brown. No preapical bristle. Halteres fulvous. Wings nearly colourless; the veins black, getting brown near the insertion. Distance between the cross-veins one and a half times the length

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[The section below cannot be correctly rendered as it contains complex formatting. See the image of the page for a more accurate rendering.]

of the posterior cross-vein, which is about three-quarters of its own length from the margin. Length, 31/2mm.; wing, 3 mm.

Hab. Auckland Islands.

Milichia littorea, sp. nov.

[The section below cannot be correctly rendered as it contains complex formatting. See the image of the page for a more accurate rendering.]

Brown; sides of the face, ocellar triangle, and four stripes on the thorax darker. Eyes round. Antennæ and palpi piceous; third joint of the antennæ round; the arista bare. Mouth large, oval, the anterior margin thin and sharp, with a pair of small vibrissæ. Legs and lower surface dark-brown, dusted with grey. Abdomen short. Mesonotum with bristles in the middle, four in a row. Halteres fulvous. Wings fuscous, with pale spots, three in the submarginal cell, two in the first posterior cell, one in the second posterior, and one in the discal cell. The costal, exterior part of marginal, and first basal cells are clear. There are three distinct basal cells. Veins very dark-brown. No incision on the costa before the tip of the first longitudinal vein. Posterior cross-vein present, situated nearly in the middle of the wing; not much more than its own length from the margin. The distance between the cross-veins is quite twice the length of the posterior cross-vein. Length, 31/2 mm.; wing, 41/2 mm.

Hab. Antipodes Island. On pools between tide-marks.

Ochthiphila australis, sp. nov.

Black, the eyes reddish. Halteres white. Abdomen narrow. Front with long bristles. No oral vibrissæ, but a row of bristles on each side of the mouth. Mesonotum with two rows of five bristles each in the middle. Wings fuscous; basal cells small but distinct. Distance between the crossveins about twice the length of the posterior cross-vein, which is situated rather more than its own length from the margin. Length, 2 mm.; wing, 3 mm.

Hab. Campbell Island.

Drosophila enderbii, sp. nov.

Blackish-brown, the face with yellowish tomentum. A little grey tomentum on the lower surface and the legs. A row of bristles on each side of the face, but none on the mouth. Arista with a row of six bristles. Wings clear, the veins black. Only one basal cell. Distance between the cross-veins about three times the length of the posterior cross-vein, which is situated at about its own length from the margin. Length, 2 mm.; wing, 2 mm.

Hab. Enderby Island, Auckland group.

Smaller and darker than any of the described New Zealand species.

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Asteia levis, sp. nov.

[The section below cannot be correctly rendered as it contains complex formatting. See the image of the page for a more accurate rendering.]

Head fulvous, the eyes black. Antennæ short, the third joint round; arista slender, bare. Front broad. Thorax and abdomen brown above, pale-fulvous below. Legs pale-fulvous. Wings slightly tinged with yellow, the veins fulvous. No posterior cross-vein. Second longitudinal short, nearly attaining to half the length of the wing. Length, 3 mm.; wing, 31/2 mm.

Hab. Stewart Island.

This species differs from A. amœna in having no hairs on the arista, and in the second longitudinal vein being longer.

Art. XV.—The Beetles of the Auckland Islands.

[Read before the Philosophical Institute of Canterbury, 6th November, 1901.]

Last January, at the invitation of His Excellency the Earl of Ranfurly, I visited the southern islands of New Zealand in the Government s.s. “Hinemoa,” commanded by Captain Bollans. The chief object of our visit, in addition to examining the provision depots, was to make a collection of birds for the British Museum. But, as I had nothing to do with the collection of the specimens, I devoted all the time I could to the Diptera. No systematic attempt was made to collect Coleoptera, and only five specimens were obtained. These were all new to science, and belong to four new species and one new genus. This is a very good proof that a great deal remains to be done in collecting insects in these islands. Indeed, it is remarkable that after the visits of four scientific expeditions to the Auckland group—two French, one English, and one German—so very little should be known about the insects.

Lyperobius læviusculus was captured on the high land of Adam's Island, when the party were going to the albatros nesting-ground. They were feeding, I believe, on Ligusticum antipodum. Inocatoptes incertus was obtained on the high land at the head of Port Ross, but I do not know on what plant it was feeding. Both specimens of Euthenarus were found under stones in Carnley Harbour, near where the “Grafton” was wrecked.

I also saw on the islands, several times, a moth which appeared to be a Crambus, of which I did not take specimens.;

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also a Myriapod, belonging to the Polydesmida, which I failed to secure. On Antipodes Island the magpie moth (Nyctemera annulata) is common. I also saw spiders on all the islands, but as my bottles were full of Diptera I could not collect them.

The following is a list of the beetles at present known from the Auckland Islands:—

Family Carabidæ.

Calathus rubromarginatus, Blanchard.
Euthenarus cilicollis, Broun.
Euthenarus huttoni, Broun.
Heterodactylus nebrioides, Guerin.
Heterodactylus castaneus, Blanchard.
Pristanclus brevis, Blanchard.
Oopterus clivinoides, Guerin.
Oopterus plicaticollis, Blanchard.

Family Tenebrionid.æ.

Adelium tuberculatum, Guerin.

Family Curculionid.æ.

Inocatoptes incertus, Broun.
Lyperobius laviusculus, Broun.

of these all the species and the genera Heterodactylus, Pristanclus, and Inocatoptes are endemic. Oopterus and Lyperobius are confined to New Zealand and the Auckland Islands. Adelium extends to New Zealand, Australia, Tasmania, New Caledonia, and Chili. Calathus is a northern (Holarctic) genus extending as far south as India and Mexico. There is only one species in New Zealand, C. zealandicus, Redtenbacher, having been erroneously referred to this country (see “Zoological Record, 1891,” Insects, p. 89). It is, however, doubtful whether our southern species really belong to Calathus.

Descriptions by Captain T. Broun, F.E.S.
Group Harpalidæ.

Euthenarus (?) cilicollis, sp. nov.

Body fusco-piceous; elytra with a testaceous streak along the outer posterior margin of each; tibiæ and antennæ red, palpi paler. Head rather short, somewhat uneven. Labrum truncate. Eyes prominent. Thorax one-third broader than long, its base truncate and minutely ciliate; the sides rounded, widest just before the middle, much narrowed

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behind; posterior angles rectangular but not projecting, the anterior slightly prominent but obtuse; disc a little convex, the longitudinal dorsal groove feebly impressed, the simple basal fossæ rather shallow and almost united by a curved transversal impression which is enlarged at the middle; there are some slight linear impressions across the surface. Elytra quite oval, slightly convex, not sinuate posteriorly; humeral angles obsolete; with simple regular striæ; interstices impunctate. Anterior tibia slightly thickened and ciliate at the extremity. Tarsi with brush-like soles, joints 2–4, of the front pair only, dilated and cordiform; the basal articulation longer, slender at base but broad at apex; the fourth joint deeply emarginate and with its inner angle some-what prolonged; the posterior tarsi elongate, their fourth joint excavate above and prolonged underneath, without definite angles but longer externally, and ciliate below. Antenna reaching backwards to the shoulders, their seven terminal joints pubescent; the first is as elongate as the fourth but stouter, the second is one-third shorter than the following one. ♂ Length, 5¼ lines; breadth, 2 ⅜ lines.

Auckland Islands. One mutilated individual has been placed at my disposal by Captain Hutton.

Obs. It was at first intended that this and the following species should be placed with Blanchard's Calathus rubromarginatus, but after studying the structure of the tarsi it became apparent that the present species should not be located in the group Anchomenida. Although Blanchard's species is unknown to me except by description, I have little hesitation in uniting it with those now described as exponents of one genus; but I am not prepared to make a new generic name for them until more specimens can be got for dissection. Under these circumstances, they are placed temporarily with Euthenarus in the group Harpalida.

E. huttoni, sp. nov.

Body rufo-piceous, slightly nitid; legs pitchy-red, antennæ and palpi paler. Head finely rugose, not short. Thorax about as long as broad, widest near the middle, only moderately rounded there; anterior angles slightly prominent, the basal rectangular, and, owing to the large and deep fossæ, appearing as if slightly elevated; the median dorsal groove is distinct. Scutellum short. Elytra oblongoval, rather broad, with fine, regular, impunctate striae; interstices simple. ♂ Length, 5 lines; breadth, 2 ⅛ lines.

Auckland Islands. One specimen only, preserved in the Canterbury Museum. This species has been named in honour of its discoverer.

In this species the eyes are less prominent and more dis-

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tant from the thoracic margin than in E. cilicollis. The thorax is rather longer, and differs in form; its sides are quite obviously marginated, and the basal foveæ are large and deeply impressed. The elytra also differ in contour, owing chiefly to being much less narrowed towards the shoulders.

Group Otiorhynchidæ.
Inocatoptes, gen. nov.

Rostrum moderately short and broad. Scrobe well defined near the apex, but becoming shallow behind. Eyes moderately prominent, distinctly facetted, subtruncate in front Prosternum incurved. Mesosternum with a raised lamina between the coxæ. Abdomen finely setose; basal segment medially emarginate, third and fourth short.

This should be located between Inophlœus and Catoptes. From the latter it differs in the shape of the eyes, in the direction of the scrobes, and in the less-developed ocular lobes From the former it may be at once distinguished by the absence of the double series of ciliæ at the extremity of the posterior tibiæ, by the distinct intercoxal process, and by the absence of the usual nodosities and acuminate apices of the elytra.

Inocatoptes incertus, sp. nov.

Subovate, without nodiform elevations, thinly clothed with decumbent yellowish setæ. Rostrum rather flat, with a fine longitudinal carma, terminating in a fovea between, the eyes. Scape clavate at extremity, extending to back part of the eye. Fumculus sparsely setose; basal two joints almost equally elongate, third slightly longer than fourth. Club finely pubescent, elongate-oval, its three joints of nearly equal length. Thorax transverse, base and apex truncate; uneven above, but without distinct sculpture. Scutellum distinct. Elytra oviform, a little broader at the base than the thorax; each elytron with six discoidal series of moderate punctures, the external two coarser; the four nearest the suture form fine striæ. Legs elongate, femora incrassate near the middle; tibiæ setose, the front pair slightly arcuate externally, some-what thickened and produced at the inner apices. Tarst. normal. Length (rost. included), 8 lines; breadth, 3½ lines.

Colouration has not been, alluded to because the only specimen extant is somewhat immature, and, although it is rufo-castaneous, it may become dark or greyish. The deciduous supplementary mandibles are conspicuous.

Described from one example in the Canterbury Museum. It was found on the main island, Auckland group, by the Hon. H. C. Butler. Type in the Canterbury Museum.

– 179 –

Group Molytidæ.

Lyperobius læviusculus, sp. nov.

Pitchy-black, sometimes rufo-piceous; hind-body sparingly clothed with depressed, testaceous, setiform scales. Rostrum nearly plane above, medially narrowed, rather finely punctured. Head broader than the rostrum, with a shallow median groove before the eyes and some transversal linear impressions behind. Eyes more rotundate than those of the typical species. Scrobes deep in front, but quite indefinite behind. Scape thickened apically, attaining the back of the eye. Funiculus sparsely pilose, second joint only slightly shorter than the first; joints 3–7 momliform. Club triarticulate, rather elongate, finely pubescent. Thorax somewhat uneven, without central carina, finely punctate. Elytra oblongoval, humeral angles narrowed and rounded, rather acuminate posteriorly; each elytron indistinctly tricostate, suture slightly elevated, interstices nearly smooth, with only feebly impressed series of punctures. Legs rather elongate; femora clavate; tibiæ flexuous, without the usual inner armature just above the extremity; the anterior pair with pale erect setæ along the inside. Underside nearly smooth, almost nude. Prosternum a little emarginate. Length (rost. included), 10–12 lines; breadth, 3½-5 lines.

Auckland Islands. Captain Bollans, of the Government steamer “Hinemoa,” found two specimens on Adam's Island. The larger one has very indefinite elytral costæ. One specimen retained in Captain Broun's collection, the other placed in the Canterbury Museum.

Art. XVI.—Additions to the Diptera Fauna of New Zealand.

[Read before the Philosophical Institute of Canterbury, 6th November 1901.]

Family Psychodidæ.

Genus Psychodid, Latreille, 1796.

Wings pointed; two simple veins between the forked veins, the second of these two ending at or before the apex. Proboscis compressed, the maxillæ nearly as long.

Psychoda phalænoides, Linnæus.

Dark-brown, with pale-grey hairs on the head and abdomen and brown hairs on the mesonotum. Antennæ

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with black bands. Wings without spots, pellucid, with palegrey hairs on the veins; veins brownish. Halteres white. Legs dark-brown, with pale-grey hairs. Length, 1½ mm.; wing, 2 mm.

Hab. Christchurch (F. W. H.), common; Auckland (Suter).

Introduced from Europe.

Genus Pericoma, Walker, 1856.

Wings pointed or rounded; two simple veins between the forked veins, the second of these two ending distinctly behind the tip of the wing. Proboscis with broad liplets.

Pericoma funebris, sp. nov.

Head and thorax very dark-brown; thorax nearly bare but some white hairs at the root of the wing. Abdomen paler brown, covered with reddish-brown hairs. Legs brown, with some white hairs near the tips of the tibiæ. Wings broad, rounded at the apex, densely covered with dark-brown hairs, passing into reddish-brown a little below the tip. No spots. The fork of the second longitudinal vein lies rather inside that of the fourth longitudinal. The anterior of the two simple veins reaches the margin a little before the apex of the wing, while the second one is distinctly behind it. Length, 3½ mm.; wing, 4 mm.

Hab. Wellington (G. V. Hudson).

Pericoma variegata, sp. nov.

Head and anterior portion of thorax velvety black, the posterior portion foxy-red. Abdomen brown. Legs brown, the tarsi blackish. Wings broad and rounded at the tip. Dark-brown, with spots and streaks of foxy-red and some white hairs sprinkled through the brown ones. Neuration as in the last species. Length, 4 mm.; wing, 5¼ mm.

Hab. Wellington (G. V. Hudson).

Family Chironomidæ.

Key to the Genera.
Only one basal cell.
  Wings bare.
    Front metatarsi longer than the tibiæ Chironomus.
    Front metatarsi shorter than the tibiæ.
      Posterior branch of the fifth longitudinal vein straight Orthocladius.
      Posterior branch of the fifth longitudinal vein sinuous Camptocladius.
  Wings hairy.
    Front metatarsi longer than the tibiæ Tanytarsus.
Two basal cells Tanypus.
– 181 –

Genus Chironomus, Meigen, 1803.

“Antennæ 14-jointed in the male, 7-jointed in the female. Thorax usually with three stripes. Wings naked. Costal vein not extending beyond the tip of the third longitudinal. Fore metatarsus longer than, or occasionally as long as, the tibia. Anal joint of the male abdomen longer than broad, the forceps generally filiform or falcate” Skuse).

Key to the Species.
Thorax pale, with dark stripes.
   Wings without spots.
      Tip of submargimal cell acute C. zealandic
      Tip of submarginal cell rounded C. lentus.
   Wings with two small black spots C. opimus.
Thorax blackish.
   Third longitudinal vein slightly curved near the tip C. pavidus.
   Third longitudinal strongly curved near the tip C. ignavus.

Chironomus zealandicus.

C. zealandicus, Hudson, Man. N. Z. Ent., p. 43, pl. iv., fig. 2 (1892).

First joint of the antennæ pale-yellow, the rest brown, with brown plumes in the male. Clypeus and palpi darkbrown. Thorax pale-yellow, with three longitudinal dark bands, either fuscous or dark-fulvous. The lateral bands start near the middle and gradually narrow to the posterior margin, the central one beginning at the collar and ending near the middle, but continued as a narrow pale-brown median line to the posterior margin. Pleuræ with an oval brown spot under the wing. Scutellum pale-yellow. Matanotum brown. Abdomen brown, with long yellow hairs; each segment bordered posteriorly with pale-yellowish, except the second, which is almost entirely brown. Legs pale-yellow, each joint generally minutely tipped with brown; the last joints of the tarsi slightly fuscous. Fore metatarsus about one and a third times the length of the tibia; intermediate tibia less than twice the length of its metatarsus; each joint of the tarsi shorter than the ones before it. Wings hyaline, glabrous; the costa, cross-vein, and internal portion of the fourth longitudinal brown. Auxiliary vein joining the costa some distance outside of the cross-vein. Second longitudinal indistinct and close to the first. Third longitudinal meeting the costa a little before the apex of the wing; submarginal cell acute at the tip. Fourth longitudinal reaching the margin of the wing a little below the apex. Length, 6–8 mm.; wing, 5½ mm.

Hab. Wellington (Hudson); Christchurch (F. W. H.); Auckland (Suter).

This species is allied to C. nepeanensis, Skuse, but

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differs from it in the colour of the bands on the thorax and in the fore tibiæ not being brown at the base. The Christchurch specimens have the thorax much darker and less distinctly marked than those from Wellington and Auckland, and might, perhaps, be distinguished as a distinct species.

Chironomus leutus, sp. nov.

Female.—Antennæ tawny, palpi dark-brown, clypeus black. Thorax tawny, with three brown longitudinal streaks each bearing a series of tawny hairs; of these the lateral streaks curve downwards on the sides of the thorax. and the central stripe is narrow. Scutellum tawny. Metanotum dark-brown. Abdomen brown, with short yellow hairs. Legs pale-tawny, the joints fuscous. Fore metatarsi about one and a half times the length of the tibiæ. Intermediate tibiæ not much longer than the metatarsi; each joint of the tarsi shorter than the one before it. Halteres pale-tawny Wings hyaline, the veins pale-tawny. No spots. Auxiliary vein joining the costa some distance outside the cross-vein. Second longitudinal indistinct, close to the first. Third longitudinal vein meeting the costa at the apex of the wing; submarginal cell rounded at the tip. Fourth longitudinal reaching the margin considerably below the apex. Fork of the fifth longitudinal a little outside the cross-vein Length, 4 mm.; wing, 3¼ mm.

Hab. Christchurch (F. W. H.).

Chironomus opimus, sp. nov.

Male.—Antennæ pale-brown; clypeus brown. Thorax yellowish-green, with a pair of median dark-brown lines close together, bordered outside with tawny; also on the sides, in front of the wings, a kidney-shaped dark-brown spot bordered above with tawny. Scutellum pale-green. Metanotum tawny, broadly tipped with dark-brown. Abdomen bright-green, with yellow hairs; the sixth and seventh segments slightly fuscous. Legs pale-tawny; the distal end of the fore femora, a band in the middle of the intermediate and hind femora (as well as their apices). a broad band at the proximal ends of the fore tibiæ, and narrow bands in the same place of the intermediate and hind tibiæ, as well as the three last joints of the fore tarsi, brown. The fore metatarsus is nearly one and a half times the length of the tibia. Halteres green. Wings with two small black spots, one on the cross-vein, the other at the apex of the fourth posterior cell. The membrane bare, but short hairs on the fourth longitudinal vein and on the anterior branch of the fifth. Third longitudinal much curved backwards near the tip, reaching the costa at the apex of the wing; the submarginal cell rounded at the tip. Auxiliary vein joining the costa opposite the cross-vein. Fourth longi-

– 183 –

tudinal reaches the margin not far from the tip of the third longitudinal. Fork of the fifth longitudinal considerably outside the cross-vein. Length, 4 mm.; wing, 3 mm.

Female.—Thorax fulvous, with three rows of yellow hairs and a brown patch on the pleura before the wing. Abdomen and halteres pale-brown. The rest as in the male.

Hab. Christchurch (F. W. H.); Auckland (Suter).

Chironomus pavidus, sp. nov.

Male.—Head blackish-brown; the antennæ brown, and with brown plumes. Thorax blackish-brown, with two longitudinal rows of scattered tawny hairs. Abdomen dark-brown, with yellowish hairs. Legs pale-tawny, the last joint of the tarsi fuscous; the coxæ brown; the fore metatarsi about one and a half times the length of the tibiæ. Halteres pale-yellow. Wings and veins bare; veins almost colourless; the membrane with pale iridescent spots or patches. one in front of the cross-vein, two in the first posterior cell, another in the fork of the fifth longitudinal vein, and another in the second posterior cell. These spots are not seen by transmitted light. The third longitudinal vein meets the costa a little before the tip; it is not much curved; submarginal cell acute at the tip. Fourth longitudinal ends below the tip and inside the third. Fork of the fifth a little outside the cross-vein. Length, 4½ mm.; wing, 3 mm.

Female.—Wings iridescent, but without spots.

Hab. Christchurch (F. W. H.).

This species differs from C. nubifer, Skuse, in the proportions of the fore metatarsi and tibiæ, and probably in colours also.

Chironomus ignavus, sp. nov.

Male and Female.—Dark-brown, scutellum paler, abdomen with pale hairs. Legs pale-tawny, the tarsi fuscous. Meso- and meta-thorax with a raised central ridge. Fore metatarsus about one and a quarter times the length of the tibia. Intermediate metatarsus nearly as long as the tibia. Halteres pale-brown, with dark tips. Wings with a slight tawny tinge, unspotted; veins pale-tawny. Third longitudinal vein much curved backward, meeting the costa near the apex of the wing; submarginal cell rounded at the tip. Tip of the fourth longitudinal further from the apex of the wing than the third. Fork of the fifth longitudinal slightly outside the cross-vein. Length, 4-4½ mm.; wing, 3-3½ mm.

Hab. Christchurch (F. W. H.).

Genus Orthocladius, V. d. Wulp, 1874.

“Antennæ 14-jointed in the male, 7-jointed in the female. Thorax with three stripes. Wings naked. Third longi-

– 184 –

tudinal vein straight or slightly curved, going nearly to the apex of the wing. Costal vein sometimes extending a little beyond the tip of the third longitudinal. Posterior branch of the fifth longitudinal straight or a little bent. Legs unicoloured, or only darker at the articulations. Fore metatarsus considerably shorter than the tibia. Forceps of the male slender” (Skuse).

In the New Zealand species, here described, the thorax is not striped.

Orthocladius publicus, sp. nov.

Male.— Uniform dull-brown, the legs rather paler. The fore tibia not much longer than the metatarsus. Abdomen and legs with distant hairs. Halteres brown. Wings pale-brown, unspotted, the veins brown. The third longitudinal vein nearly straight and joining the costa considerably before the tip of the wing, the costa not produced beyond it. Fork of the fifth longitudinal lies outside the cross-vein. The fourth longitudinal ends at the apex of the wing. First longitudinal ends nearer to the cross-vein than to the tip of the third longitudinal. Length, 1¾ mm.; wing, 2 mm.

Female.—The long hairs on the legs are absent.

Hab. Christchurch (F. W. H.).

Orthocladius cingulatus, sp. nov.

Male.—Dark, shining, brown; the sides of the thorax, distal ends of the coxæ, halteres, and anterior portions of the second, as well as of the fourth and fifth abdominal segments, pale-yellow. Legs pale-brown, with short close hairs. Abdomen with a few distant hairs. Fore tibia rather more than one and a half times the length of the metatarsus. Wings hyaline, the veins brown. The first longitudinal vein reaches the costa about halfway between the cross-vein and the tip of the third longitudinal. The third longitudinal reaches the margin a little before the apex of the wing, and the costa is produced slightly beyond it. The fourth longitudinal ends a little below the apex of the wing. The fork of the fifth longitudinal is nearly on a line with the cross-vein. Length, 3 mm.; wing, 2½ mm.

Hab. Christchurch (F. W. H.).

Genus Camptocladius, V. d. Wulp, 1874.

Antennæ 14-jointed in the male, 7-jointed in the female. Wings naked. Third longitudinal vein bent upwards, sometimes short and terminating considerably before the apex of the wing, or running for some distance close along the anterior margin; consequently the first posterior cell is very

– 185 –

broad. Posterior branch of the fifth longitudinal sinuated. Legs unicoloured, usually black. Fore metatarsus considerably shorter than the tibia. Anal joint in the male short and broad; the forceps broad, white, or with white hairs.

Camptocladius vernus, sp. nov.

Blackish-brown, the tibiæ and tarsi brown. Fore tibia about twice the length of the metatarsus. Abdomen and legs hairy. Wings pale-greyish, the veins fulvous, except the costa and the first and third longitudinals, which are blackish. Third longitudinal running near the anterior margin of the wing and ending at a considerable distance before the apex, the costa being produced beyond the tip of the third longitudinal. Fourth longitudinal ending at the apex of the wing, or very slightly below it. The fork of the fifth longitudinal lies outside the cross-vein; the posterior branch is sharply bent backwards to a right angle with the margin of the wing. Length, 2½ mm.; wing, 2 mm.

Hab. Christchurch (F. W. H.).

A common species, and about the first to appear in spring (October).

Genus Tanytarsus, V. d. Wulp, 1874.

“Antennæ 14-jointed in the male and 7-jointed in the female. Wings hairy. Third longitudinal vein straight, or nearly straight, running to the apex of the wing. Posterior branch of the fifth longitudinal straight, or only slightly bent backwards. Fore metatarsus longer than the tibia. Forceps of the male slender” (Skuse).

Tanytarsus vespertinus, sp. nov.

Male.—Head black, antennæ and palpi brown. Thorax tawny, with three dark-brown stripes. Scutellum and metathorax brown. Abdomen greenish-brown. Legs tawny; the fore metatarsus nearly one and a half times the tibia. Halteres yellowish-white. Wings with fine hairs, unspotted. The third longitudinal joins the costa at a very acute angle some distance before the apex of the wing, and the costa is not prolonged beyond it. The fourth longitudinal ends very slightly below the apex of the wing. The fork of the fifth longitudinal lies slightly outside the cross-vein. Length, 4 mm.; wing, 3 mm.

Female.—Yellowish-green, the bands on the thorax brownish-yellow. Legs pale-yellowish. The rest like the male.

Hab. Christchurch (F. W. H.).

– 186 –

Genus Tanypus, Meigen, 1803.

“Antennæ 15-jointed. Wings pubescent. Marginal crossvein and second longitudinal distinct. Fork of the fifth longitudinal situated at the base of the posterior cross-vein” (Skuse).

Key to the Species
Legsunicoloured, except at the articulations.
   Metanotum dark-brown T. languidus.
   Metanotum fulvous T. debilis.
Tibiæ and metatarstsi wi h a dark band in the middle T. malus.

Tanypus languidus, sp. nov.

Male.—Antennæ pale-brown, with brown plumes; eyes and face dark-brown. Thorax pale-yellowish, with a double central brown stripe reaching halfway, and a lateral stripe on each side, commencing a little before the end of the median pair; posterior margin of the mesonotum, and a median line from the posterior margin towards the central stripes dark-brown; scutellum pale-yellow; metanotum dark-brown. Abdomen brown, each segment with a square pale-yellow spot on each side, except on the last two segments. Femora pale-yellow, broadly tipped with brown; tibiæ and tarsi tawny. Fore metatarsus about one-half the length of the tibia. Halteres white. Wings hairy, yellowish, with brown spots on all three cross-veins, at the tips of the longitudinal veins, and two each in the first posterior and anal cells; veins yellow. Auxiliary vein rather indistinct, not reaching the costa. Third longitudinal much curved, meeting the costa at the apex of the wing. Posterior branch of the fifth longitudinal meeting the margin of the wing at right angles. Marginal cross-vein joining the costa. Length, 5 mm.; wing, 4 mm.

Female.—Abdomen brown, the anterior portion of each segment pale. Legs pale yellowish-tawny, the tips of the joints brown. Wings broader than in the male, and the marginal cross-vein joining the tip of the first longitudinal-Length, 4½ mm.; wing, 4 mm.

Hab. Christchurch (F. W. H.).

Tanypus debilis, sp. nov.

Male.— Head and antennæ pale-tawny. Thorax pale greenish-yellow, with a double central brown stripe ending-halfway, and a brown spot on each side opposite the termination of the stripe. Scutellum pale-green; metanotum pale-tawny, with four brown spots. Abdomen green, the anterior half of each segment darker than the posterior half; the hairs white. Legs pale-tawny, the articulations brown. Fore metatarsus about two-thirds the length of the tibia. Wings hairy; the anal angle white, the rest brownish, with bluish iridescent spots (in reflected light) in the first, second,

– 187 –

and third posterior cells and in the anal cell, these spots bein more or less bordered with brown; a dark-brown mark on the cross-veins. Auxiliary vein indistinct. Third longitudinal considerably curved near the tip, meeting the costa a little before the apex of the wing. Marginal cross-vein joining the first longitudinal below its tip. Both branches of the fifth longitudinal strong, the posterior meeting the margin of the wing at right angles. Length, 3 mm.; wing, 4½ mm.

Female.—Abdomen greenish-brown. Wings without iridescent spots. Brown spots on the cross-veins, at the tips of the longitudinals, and near the apices of the first posterior and anal cells.

Hab. Christchurch (F. W. H.).

Tanypus malus, sp. nov.

Male.—Head brown; the antennæ tawny, with pale-brown plumes. Thorax tawny, with two brown median stripes, and a spot on each side, the median bands nearly broken by a tawny curved streak. Scutellum dark-tawny. Metanotum dark-brown. First five segments of the abdomen white, with brown marks on the anterior portion; the rest brown. Legs-almost white, with dark articulations and dark median bands on the tibiæ and metatarsi. Fore metatarsus about two-thirds the length of the tibia. Halteres white. Wings hairy, white, with many small dark spots Third longitudinal not much curved, joining the costa considerably before the apex of the wing. Marginal cross-vein very short, joining the costa, Fourth longitudinal rather weak. Posterior branch of the fifth longitudinal meeting the margin of the wing at right angles. Length, 4 mm.; wing, 3 mm.

Female.—Abdomen brown, banded dark and pale. Length, 3mm.; wing, 4 mm.

Hab. Christchurch (F. W. H.).

Family Tipulidæ (brevipalpi).

Genus Rhypholophus, Kolenati, 1863.

“Two submarginal cells; four posterior cells; discal cell present or absent. Wings pubescent on the whole surface. The second longitudinal vein originates at a more or less acute angle before the middle of the anterior margin; the subcostal cross-vein is at a considerable distance (two or three lengths of the great cross-vein) anterior to the tip of the auxiliary vein. Antennæ 16-jointed. Tibiæ without spurs at the tip; ungues smooth on the under-side; empodia distinct” (Osten-Sacken).

This genus differs from Molophilus and Erioptera in having hairs all over the surface of the wing, instead of on the veins-only.

– 188 –

Rhypholophus insulsus, sp. nov.

Pale-tawny, the joints of the antennæ dark-brown at their bases. Palpi brown. An irregular brown dorsal stripe on the abdomen. The last three or four joints of the tarsi fuscous. Halteres pale-tawny. Wings tinged with tawny, the veins darker; all the cross-veins slightly bordered with brown, and a small brown spot at the origin of the second longitudinal vein. No discal cell. Submarginal cross-vein opposite the tip of the auxiliary vein. Third posterior cell with a short petiole. Seventh longitudinal sinuated. Forceps of the male double; the outer pair tawny; the inner pair slender and dark-brown. Length, ♂ 7 mm., ♀ 5–6 mm.; of antennæ, ♂ 9 mm., ♀ 3½ mm.; wing, ♂ 9 mm., ♀ 8 mm.

Hab. Wellington (G. V. Hudson).

Rhypholophus fatuus, sp. nov.

Female.—Dark-brown, the legs nearly black, with, two pale rings on the femora, one at the tip the other beyond the middle. Wings rather smoky, darker towards the tips; a dark fascia from the tip of the auxiliary vein to the chief cross-vein; a dark spot on the upper margin of the first basal cell and another at the apex of the second basal cell. Neuration as in the last species.

Hab. Wellington (G. V. Hudson).

I have only one specimen, the antennæ of which have sixteen joints, those of the flagellum with whorls of short hairs.

Genus Opifex, gen. nov.

Two submarginal cells, of which the second is nearly twice as long as the first; four posterior cells; no discal cell. Wings hairy along the veins only. Second longitudinal originates at a very acute angle before the middle of the anterior margin. No subcostal nor marginal cross-veins. Anterior branch of the fourth longitudinal forked, the posterior branch simple. Seventh longitudinal short, straight, not reaching the margin. Tibiæ without spurs at their tips; empodia indistinct or absent. Antennæ 16-jointed. Rostrum short. Proboscis elongated, much longer than the head, cylindrical, rather swollen at the apex. Palpi long, but shorter than the proboscis. Legs short.

This genus differs from Erioptera not only in the long proboscis and short legs, but also in the absence of a marginal cross-vein, and in fourth posterior cell being pointed at its base.

Opifex fuscus, sp. nov.

Uniform brown; proboscis, palpi, antennæ, and legs lighter than the body. Wings brown. Second posterior cell

– 189 –

with a long petiole; the posterior cross-vein not in a line with the chief cross-vein. Proboscis about four times the length of the head; palpi about two and a half times its length; the last joint swollen, shorter than the penultimate. Antennæ rather shorter than the proboscis. Length, 5 mm.; wing, 5 mm.

Hab. Wellington (G. V. Hudson).

The short legs, long proboscis, and hairy veins make this species look very like a mosquito.

Genus Trochobola, Osten-Sacken, 1868.
Trochobola dohrni.

T. dohrni, Osten-Sacken, Berlin, ent. Zeitschr., xxxix., p. 264 (1894). T. ampla, Hutton, Trans. N.Z. Inst., vol. xxxii., p. 36 (1900). T. fumipennis, Hudson, Man. N.Z. Ent., p. 48 (1892), no description.

I unfortunately overlooked this species and the next when writing my paper on the Tipulida. The following is Osten-Sacken's description:—

“Head, rostrum, palpi, and antennæ brown, the latter sometimes reddish on the second joint. The proximal part of the flagellum is almost moniliform, the joints 1 to 4 somewhat urn-shaped, with a little brush of microscopic hairs on one side and some scattered longer hairs on the other; the rest of the flagellum has more elongate joints, with scattered short hairs. Thorax brown or reddish-brown, with four dark-brown stripes and a covering of yellowish sericeous pollen. Abdomen reddish-brown, with somewhat darker lateral margins. Legs rather long, yellowish-brown, with a distinct dark-brown space just before the tip of the femora, and a narrower yellow ring immediately proximal of the brown; knees paler. Halteres with a brown knob. Wings nearly the same as in annulata and argus, but the proximal two-thirds of the second basal cell are filled out, or nearly so, with brown. There is a large brown spot in the region of the stigma, between the third vein and the costa; within it there is a small yellowish spot on the costa, a little beyond the tip of the auxiliary vein, and a round hyaline spot in the proximal end of the submarginal cell; along the apex the distal end of the submarginal and first posterior cells has a dark-brown irregular margin. Male forceps (very much shrunken in drying) has apparently the same structure as that of the European T. annulata. Length, from 12 mm. to 16 mm.; length of the wing, from 13 mm. to 23 mm.

“Hab. Five males and one female from Professor Hutton, in Christchurch, and Helms, in Greymouth. The first speci-

– 190 –

men I received was from Dr. C. A. Dohrn, and I believe it came from the North Island.”

Trochobola venusta.

T. venusta, Osten-Sacken, Berlin, ent. Zeitschr., xxxiv., p. 265 (1894).

“Body brownish; the usual thoracic stripes brown, coalescent, leaving only a paler space in the humeral region; antennæ brownish-yellow, scapus brown; halteres with a brown knob. Femora brownish-yellow, with a brown ring before the tip; tibiæ and tarsi yellowish-brown. Wings: The ocellar spots which distinguish the other Trochobolœ exist here too, but are rendered less distinct by the numerous brown irregular spots which fill their intervals. The basal portion of the wing is densely filled with little brown spots, assuming a more or less irregularly ocellar shape, with still smaller brown spots in their centre; the very distinct cross-vein between the sixth and seventh longitudinal veins is clouded with brown; in the middle of the wing a kind of cross-band is formed by larger and darker brown spots, one on the anterior margin, surrounding the origin of the prefurca, the other on the posterior margin, near the end of the sixth vein; the space between the larger spots is filled with irregular smaller ones; upon this dark cross-band follows a subhyaline one, within which the brown spots are more scarce; the distal third of the wing is darker again, containing three large brown spots mottled with paler dots, and leaving an irregular, subtri-angular, subhyaline space between them. Length, 9 mm.; wing, 11 mm.”

Hab. Greymouth (Helms).

“Easily recognisable by the colouration of the wings.” It is evidently related to my T. picta, but I think that it is a distinct species, especially as no mention is made of the irregularly shaped discal cell which distinguishes T. picta. Baron Osten-Sacken speaks of the wings in both these species as being ocellated, while in my paper I say that they are not ocellated. The explanation of the difference is that I confine the term “ocellated” to a distinct dark ring with a spot in the centre, while Osten-Sacken gives it a wider meaning. In the figure of the wing of T. picta* I do not recognise my own drawing.

Limnophila skusei, sp. nov.

Pale yellowish-brown. Proboscis dark-brown; each joint of the antennæ dark-brown near its base. A fuscous stripe on each side of the abdomen. Femora rather darker than the

[Footnote] * Trans. N.Z. Inst., xxxii., pl. iii., fig. 2A.

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tibiæ, with an indistinct paler band beyond the middle. Tibial spurs moderately long. Empodia large. Wings pale-yellowish, with five brown spots along the anterior border. of these the second and third are somewhat horse-shoe-shaped. The fourth is the largest and occupies the stigmatic region. The fifth is close to the tip of the wing. The cross-veins are slightly bordered with brown. The second longitudinal vein is oblique and gently curved at its origin. The subcostal cross-vein is close to the tip of the auxiliary. The first submarginal cell is more than three-fourths of the length of the second. There are five posterior cells. The posterior cross-vein is nearly straight, and arises near the inner edge of the discal cell. Female: Length, 15–16 mm.; wing, 14 mm.

Hab. Wellington (Hudson).

This species comes nearest to L. sinistra, but is easily distinguished by the markings on the wings. I have named it after the late Mr. F. A. Skuse, who did so much good work towards getting the Australian Tipulidœ into order.

Family Rhyphidæ.

Genus Rhyphus, Latreille, 1802.

One marginal and five posterior cells; a discal cell. Antennæ 16-jointed. Legs slender, moderately long; hind tibiæ with small apical spurs. Eyes contiguous in the male, separated in the female.

Rhyphus notatus, sp. nov.

Reddish-tawny, the flagellum of the antennæ dark-brown. Thorax with five brown stripes, the middle one shorter than the lateral pair; scutellum and metanotum brown. Tips of the femora and tibiæ brown. Halteres pale-yellowish. Wings pale brownish; the pterostigma and the tip, from the discal cell outwards, darkish-brown. A distinct round white spot in the submarginal cell, and another, touching it, in the first posterior cell. A brown spot in the anterior basal cell, and another on the chief cross-vein. Posterior cross-vein bordered with brown. Veins brown. Length, 6 mm.; wing, 6 mm.

Hab. Auckland (H. Suter); Wellington (G. V. Hudson): Christchurch (F. W. H.).

Easily distinguished from R. novœ-zealandiœ by the round white spot in the submarginal cell. The thorax and abdomen are lighter in the female than in the male.

Family Mycetophilidæ.
Sub-family Sciarinæ.

Genus Sciara, Meigen, 1803.

Antennæ 16-jointed, longer in the male than in the female; the joints of the scapus cyathiform, almost bare;

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those of the flagellum cylindrical, pubescent, sessile or subsessile; the last joint elliptical or elongate. Legs slender, the coxæ moderately elongated; tibiaE with small spurs. Wings large, microscopically hairy. Chief cross-vein in a line with the second section of the third longitudinal. Eurcations of the fifth and sixth veins near the base of the wing.

Sciara marcilla, sp. nov.

Male.—Antennæ rather longer than the head and thorax; the first and second joints pale, the others brown, the joints sessile; eyes not contiguous; palpi dark-brown. Head and thorax dark-brown, the latter with a few black hairs. Abdomen nearly black, with short black hairs. Middle and hind coxæ yellow, the rest of the legs tawny. Halteres brown, with a yellow stalk. Wings colourless, the veins almost black, and bordered with fuscous. The first longitudinal vein joining the costa inside the base of the fork of the fourth longitudinal. Tips of the third longitudinal and posterior branch of the fourth at nearly equal distances from the apex of the wing. Costa continued some distance beyond the tip of the third longitudinal; origin of the third longitudinal situated very slightly beyond the middle of the first longitudinal. Length, 1¾ mm.; wing, 2½ mm.

Female.—Head, thorax, and abdomen pitchy-black; the legs tawny. Wings colourless; the veins tawny. Length, 3 mm.; wing, 2½ mm. The rest as in the male.

Hab. Christchurch (F. W. H.).

This species belongs to the same section as S. finitima, Skuse, but the eyes are not contiguous above, the abdomen is darker, and the legs are lighter. S. rufescens, Hutton, from Dunedin, belongs to the section in which the first longitudinal vein joins the costa outside the base of the fork of the fourth longitudinal.

Genus Trichosia, Winnertz, 1867.

Characters the same as Sciara, but the surface of the wings distinctly hairy.

Trichosia remota, sp. nov.

Female.—Uniform reddish-brown, the middle and hind coxæ lighter. Joints of the flagellum subsessile, about one and a half times as long as broad. Fore tarsi longer than the tibiæ; hind tibiæ only with short spurs. First longitudinal vein short, joining the costa at less than half the length of the wing, its tip lying inside the fork of the fourth longitudinal. Origin of the third longitudinal oblique; the chief cross-vein about the same length as the first section of the third longitudinal. The anterior branch of the fourth

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longitudinal ends at the apex of the wing; the third longitudinal ends inside the tip of the posterior branch of the fourth. Anterior branch of the fifth is nearly straight; the posterior branch runs near the anterior for some distance and then turns abruptly down to meet the posterior margin. Length, 2 mm.; wing, 2½ mm.

Hab. Christchurch (F. W. H.).

Family Bibionidæ.

Genus Dilophus, Meigen, 1803.

Two basal cells; the third longitudinal vein simple; no discoidal cell. Head almost entirely occupied by the eyes in the male, very small and inclined in the female. Palpi 5-jointed; the third joint dilated. Antennæ cylindrical, inserted beneath the eyes; 11-jointed; the third joint a little larger than the others; the last four hardly distinct from each other. Eyes hairy in the male. Prothorax elevated, with two series of spines. Legs hairy; the fore femora thick and grooved; the tibiæ spined in front and terminated by a coronet of eight spines; tarsi with three pulvilli.

Dilophus nigrostigma.

Bibio nigrostigma, Walker, Cat. Dipt. in Brit. Mus., p. 121 (1848). Dilophus spectabilis, Nowicki, Mem. der Krakauer k.-k. Akad. d. Wissen., band 2, p. 10 (1875).

Male.—Black, shining, thinly clothed with black hairs.

Wings brown, stigma and anterior veins black; the others tawny. Length, 6½—7½ mm.; wing, 6 mm.

Female.—Thorax variegated with red and black; the fore coxæ and all the femora red; the latter with black tips. The rest as in the male. Length, 9 mm.; wing, 9 mm.

Hab. Auckland; Ashburton.

The legs are hairy in both sexes.

Variety zealandicus, Walker, Trans. Ent. Soc. of London, 1858, p. 235 (Bibio), differs only in the abdomen of the female being ferruginous beneath.

Hab. Auckland; Wellington; Chatham Islands.

If it should be proved that the variety zealandicus is of any importance, and not merely individual, we must then consider this species as dimorphic, for it is impossible, I think, to distinguish the males.

Dilophus insolitus, sp. nov.

Male.—Black, the legs brown and the eyes red; wings clear, with a brown stigma. Fore and middle femora inflated; the hind legs elongated, with the femora and tibiæ

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clavate, metatarsus and second joint much swollen, the other joints vasiform. Neuration of the wing the same as in D. nigrostigma. Length, 5mm.; wing, 5 mm.

Female.—Head and antennæ dark-brown, the rostrum brown below. Thorax fulvous. Abdomen brown. Legs fulvous, except the last three joints of the tarsi, which are brown. Wings slightly tinted with yellowish, iridescent, the stigma brown. Legs slender, the joints of the hind tarsi cylindrical. Length, 5 mm.; wing, 5 mm.

Hab. Christchurch (F. W. H.).

This species and the next belong to the same section as D. varipes, Skuse (Pro. Linn. Soc. N.S.W., vol. v., p. 636), but the colours are different.

Dilophus segnis, sp. nov.

Male.—Black, the femora and tibiæ piceous; eyes brown. Hind legs elongated, the femora nearly black; femur and tibia clavate, the metatarsus and second joint swollen. Fore femora slightly inflated; middle femora not inflated. Halteres black, with white stalks. Wings hyaline, the stigma blackish-brown. Length, 5 mm.; wing, 4 mm.

Female.—Head and eyes black; thorax, abdomen, and legs dark-brown. Hind legs rather elongated; the femur and tibia clavate, but the metatarsus not inflated. Wings tinged with brown, iridescent; the stigma blackish-brown. Length, 5 mm.; wing, 5 mm.

Hab. Christchurch (F. W. H.).

The legs in both this species and the last are nearly smooth.

Genus Scatopse, Geoffroy, 1764.

One basal cell; third longitudinal vein simple; three posterior cells, the second of which is petiolated. Antennæ cylindrical, 11-jointed, the last four hardly distinct; palpi concealed, of one distinct joint. Eyes reniform. Hind metatarsi shorter than the remaining joints together.

Scatopse carbonaria, sp. nov.

Entirely black, the veins of the wing fuscous. The first longitudinal vein rather more than half the length of the second. The third longitudinal about two-thirds of the length of the wing. The costa extends round the apex of the wing to the posterior branch of the fourth longitudinal. Fork of the fourth longitudinal situated inside the tip of the third longitudinal. Fifth longitudinal not reaching the border of the wing. The wing-fold, between the fourth, and fifth veins, forked. Length, 2½ mm.; wing, 2 mm.

Hab. Christchurch (F. W. H.).

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Scatopse notata, Linnæus (Tipula).

S. longipennis, Skuse, Pro. Linn. Soc. N.S.W., vol. iii., p. 1383, and vol. v., p. 638.

Black, with a white or yellowish mark on each side of the thorax behind the origin of the wing. First longitudinal less than one-third the length of the wing. The third longitudinal more than two-thirds the length of the wing.

Hab. In a letter to Mr. Skuse Baron Von Osten-Sacken says that he has received numerous specimens from New Zealand. No doubt it has been introduced from Europe.

Family Asilidæ.

Saropogon fascipes, sp. nov.

General colour blackish-brown. Head and face yellow; antennæ brown, proboscis black. Bristles of the epistome yellow. Thorax with golden spots on the shoulders and on the sides of the metanotum. Scutellum golden. Legs dark-brown; the bases of the femora, knee-joints, the whole of the fore and middle tibiæ, and the basal half of the hind tibiæ brownish - yellow. Halteres pale - yellowish. Wings very pale-brownish, the tips clouded with fuscous. Male: Length, 14mm.; wing, 10 mm.

Hab. Wellington (Hudson).

A very distinct species, easily distinguished from S. antipodus by its darker colour and banded legs.

Family Agromyzidæ.

Milichia picata, sp. nov.

Head silvery; the eyes large, black, nearly round. Second joint of the antennæ broadly oval, reddish-brown, broadly margined with white. Arista minutely pubescent. Bristles on the vertex and front as far as the antennæ. Oral vibrissæ present. Thorax black, with some irregular white marks on the sides; the dorsum with four rows of short setæ, two of which are on the pleuræ and two on the sides of the dorsum. Scutellum yellow, with two black setæ at the end. Abdomen velvety black, the fourth and fifth segments margined posteriorly with white, which is interrupted in the middle on the fifth; the sixth with white marks on the sides. Femora black, the knees tawny; the tibiæ yellow, with two black bands; tarsi pale brownish-yellow. The middle and hind tibiæ with a strong subapical bristle. Halteres white, the stalk pale-yellow. Wings pale-yellowish, with numerous dark-brown spots. Five spots in the marginal cell, nine or ten in the submarginal, eight in the first posterior, three in the second posterior, one or two in the discal cell. Posterior

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cross-vein margined. Axillary cell entirely brown. Costa tawny; the veins black, but tawny at their bases. No bristles on the costa. Auxiliary vein completely joined to the first longitudinal; the first basal cell short. Distance between the cross-veins about three times the length of the posterior cross-vein. The posterior cross-vein distant about its own length from the margin. Membrane of the wing pubescent. Length, 2½mm.; wing, 3 mm.

Hab. Christchurch (F. W. H.).

Art. XVII.—On a New Fossil Pecten from the Chatham Islands.

[Read before the Philosophical Institute of Canterbury, 6th November, 1901.]

Plate VIII.

This fine Pecten was brought from the Chatham Islands by Professor A. Dendy, and was given to me to describe.

Pecten dendyi, sp. nov.

Shell equivalve, compressed, inequilateral, the posterior end produced. Ears rather unequal; the anterior larger, with five ribs, the posterior with two ribs. Byssal notch almost obsolete. Valves plicated, eight ridges on the left and nine on the right valve. Ridges narrower than the sinuses on the left valve, broader than the sinuses on the right valve. The whole surface, both ridges and sinuses, covered with fine radiating ribs, crossed by delicate growth-lines, which are almost obsolete on the right valve. Length, 2.6 in.; height, 2.3 in.; greatest thickness, 0.7 in.

Locality.—In a calcareous sandstone, Chatham Island.

This species differs from P. burnetti in being larger, inequilateral, more compressed, and in having more than seven folds. It is probably of Miocene age. The type is in the Canterbury Museum.

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Art. XVIII.—On the Occurrence of Alepisaurus ferox on the Coast of New Zealand.

[Read before the Philosophical Institute of Canterbury, 3rd July, 1901.]

Plate IX.

Last September three specimens of this fish were found on the beach at Riversdale, sixteen miles south of Castle Point, on the east coast of Wellington. Some time later photographs of two of them were sent to me for determination.* One photograph (Plate IX.) was of a dried head, and is sufficient to settle the genus to which the fish belongs. The other photograph is of a whole fish. It is very inferior to the first, but sufficient can be made out to corroborate the conclusion arrived at from the skull.

The skull closely resembles the figure of the Tasmanian specimen, but differs in the numbers of the large lanceolate teeth in the jaws. In the New Zealand specimen there are two anterior and one median large teeth on each side of the upper jaw. The lower jaw has three pairs of large teeth situated in the middle of the jaw, and opposing the two pairs of anterior teeth of the upper jaw. Also, there is a smaller pair of large teeth near the end of the lower jaw.

Judging from the photograph of the whole fish, I should say that the length of the head was about one-fifth of the whole length, without the caudal, and that the length of the gape was about one-eighth of the length. The dorsal fin is much elevated. The pectorals are long, but terminate at a considerable distance from the ventrals. The caudal lobes are, apparently, equal in length.


Alepisaurus ferox, Lowe. Trans. Zool. Soc. London, vol. 1, p. 395, pl. 59 (1835).

Alepisaurus sp., Richardson. Voy. Ereb. and Terr., Fish, p. 34, pl. 22, figs. 1–4 (1844).

Alepidosaurus ferox, Gunther. Cat. Fishes in Brit. Mus., vol. 5, p. 421 (1864).

Plagodus ferox, Gunther. “Study of Fishes,” p. 586, fig. 270 (1880).

Plagodus ferox, Gunther. “Challenger Reports,” vol. 22, p. 203, Deep-sea Fishes (1887).

Alepisaurus ferox, Good and Bean. “Oceanic Ichthyology,” p. 117, pl. 38, fig. 142 (1895).

[Footnote] * By Mr. R. Barcham, of Masterton.

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Art. XIX.—On a Marine Galaxias from the Auckland Islands.

[Read before the Wellington Philosophical Society, 11th February, 1902.]

This fish was taken out of the mouth of a specimen of Merganser australis during the collecting excursion to the southern islands of New Zealand made in January, 1901, by His Excellency the Earl of Ranfurly. This expedition, which only lasted three weeks, collected twenty-two undescribed species of animals—viz., one bird, one fish, one slug, four beetles (including a new genus), fourteen flies, and one earthworm. In addition, much new information was obtained about the birds and about the development of some of the plants. This shows how much must yet remain to be done.

Galaxias bollansi, sp. nov.

Body elongated, the height being less than one-sixth of the length. Breadth of the head about equal to the height of the body. Length of the head one-fourth that of the body. Diameter of the eye about one-fourth the length of the head, or two-thirds the length of the snout. Lower jaw a little shorter than the upper. Maxillary reaching to the posterior margin of the eye. Length of the pectoral fins two-thirds the distance to the base of the ventral fins. Ventral fins two-thirds of the distance to the anal. The anal fin, when laid back, does not extend to the commencement of the caudal. The least depth of the tail is less than the distance between the end of the dorsal and the end of the tail. Caudal fin rounded. Dark olive-brown, with irregular vertical bands of dark-brown on the tail. A large pale spot on the preoperculum. Fins dark, unspotted.

I have named this fish after Captain John Bollans, of the Government steamer “Hinemoa,” who is an acute observer, and takes a great interest in natural history.

The following are the dimensions of the specimen: Length (without caudal), 3.5 in. Depth of the body, 0.55 in. Least depth of the tail, 0.35 in. Length of the head, 0.88 in.; length of the snout, 0.25 in. Diameter of the eye, 0.18 in. Breadth of the head, 0.6 in. Length of pectoral fin, 0.6 in.; of ventral fin, 0.6 in. Distance from base of pectorals to ventrals, 0.9 in. Distance from base of ventrals to anal, 0.9 in. Distance from dorsal to end of tail, 0.55 in.

This species is most nearly related to G. fasciatus, but differs from that species in its more elongated form, the larger

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maxillary, the short anal fin, and the distance between the dorsal and the caudal, as well as in its markings.

Its eye is, rather larger than usual, but I do not think that it is the young of G. fasciatus, on account of its large maxillary bone and the pale spot on the preoperculum, which is probably very constant in all ages of the fish. Also, G. fasciatus is not known to breed in the sea in New Zealand; the old ones are never caught going down to sea, nor the young ones going up the rivers. The only species of Galaxias in New Zealand which breeds in the sea is G. attenuatus, and the young, known as whitebait, ascend the rivers in spring in a much earlier stage of development than the present fish.

Art. XX.—On Mites attacking Beetles and Moths.

[Read before the Philosophical Institute of Canterbury, 6th November, 1901.]

The late Mr. Maskell was the, first to record* the occurrence in New Zealand of the parasitic mite (Uropoda vegetans, De Geer) attacking the introduced woodlouse (Porcellio scaber, Latr.). and a native beetle. The beetle mentioned by Maskell is a species of Elater, and generally known as “click-beetles,” from the click-like sound they produce when springing off the ground. The larvæ of several species of Elater have destroyed enormous areas of gorse fences in New Zealand during the last ten years by consuming the roots of the gorse-plants. I have now to record the occurrence of Uropoda vegetans parasitic on eight additional species of beetles and on two species of native moths.

On the 8th September last Mr. Edwin Thomas, of Ashburton, sent me a specimen of Tricosternus antarcticus, a large carnivorous ground-beetle, with many thousands of the minute reddish-brown mites adhering thickly to every part of the beetle's body. When the specimen reached me the mites were so numerous that they completely enveloped its body and legs so as almost to conceal it from view. They were, nearly ¼ in. in depth on its back, while on the legs, especially the thighs and underparts, they were so matted together that it was with difficulty the beetle could walk. An examination of the parasite with the microscope showed it to be attached to

[Footnote] * Trans. N.Z. Inst., vol. xxv., p. 199.

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its prey by an infinitesimally fine thread or cord. I have not seen De Geer's description of U. vegetans, but Maskell has defined its structural characters and its method of attachment to its host. Notwithstanding that I have collected several thousand specimens of Coleoptera in Ashburton County during the last fifteen years, I have not previously observed this mite parasitic on any specimens I have preserved. Captain Hutton, however, informs me that when collecting Coleoptera some years ago he noted it parasitic on several species in the neighbourhood of Christchurch.

Mr. J. H. Lewis, of Ophir, who is an enthusiastic collector and student of New Zealand Coleoptera, has also recently informed me that he has observed U. vegetans parasitic on the undermentioned species: Uloma tenebrionides, Lissotes reticulatus, Thoramus wakefieldi, Pterostichus pracox, Æmona hirta, Coptomma variegatum, and Xilotoles griseus. The three first named are wood-eating species, the fourth is a Carabid, and the three last are Longicorns, which shows that many species of beetles of very different habits are liable to be attacked by the mite. Mr. Lewis mentions having also observed it on a fly (unknown) in the Wellington District.

When on a visit to Ashburton lately Mr. G. W. Howes, F.E.S., informed me that he had twice observed U. vegetans parasitic on two species of native moths (Xanthorrhoe beata and X. rosearia) at Invercargill. They were attached to the sides of the thorax and the thighs of the moths. Although the mite would be of great service to man by destroying the destructive Elater and detestable woodlice, it is regrettable to see it attacking beautiful and useful native insects. The predaceous ground - beetles are invariably beneficial on farms, but are becoming rare in settled districts. Mr. Howes, my son William, and I, lately spent half a day collecting on the flax flat below the town of Ashburton and near the Ashburton River. Instead of finding great numbers of ants' nests, as formerly, under the half-embedded stones, we found their old homes tenanted by swarms of woodlice, some of them being abnormally large and robust, and very variable in colour. In several parts of this district the woodlice have almost displaced the native ants. Although we searched very carefully we were unable to detect the presence of the mite on any woodlice, or under the cool slightly damp undersides of the stones, to which they occasionally cling in groups. The year Mr. Maskell recorded the occurrence of U. vegetans in New Zealand I sent him infested woodlice from Ashburton; but I have not detected them in this neighbourhood since then, until the infested Carabid was received lately from Mr. Thomas. The specimen was found

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in a cucumber-frame where woodlice are unpleasantly numerous, but they are apparently free from the mite in the frame.

Some time ago Captain Hutton remarked to me that it would be interesting to know if U. vegetans is indigenous or was introduced with Porcellio. It has only been detected in certain districts within the last few years, which indicates its being an introduced species now rapidly dispersing in New Zealand. The so-called “red-spider” (Tetranychus telarius), so destructive to fruit-trees, is also an introduced mite, common in America, Europe, and Australia.

The habit of some species of beetles and moths of concealing themselves in damp cool places during the day where the mite inhabits would readily enable the latter to attach itself to its host and become parasitic on many species. The milder climate of New Zealand will unquestionably favour its rapid dispersion and increase, as it has done many other both baneful and beneficial species of insects.

Art. XXI.—Notes on Coleoptera.

[Read before the Wellington Philosophical Society, 5th November, 1901.]

With the exception of moths and butterflies, none of the orders of insects occurring in New Zealand can be considered to be catalogued in even a moderately satisfactory manner. The most extensive order, that of Coleoptera, is in almost as bad a state as any, for although much has been done and a long list of species published, yet the number of coleopterous insects occurring here is so great and the students so few that it will be many generations before all the forms are described. Description, though a dry and tedious process, is a needful preliminary to the elucidation of the problems connected with distribution and variation, which are the most attractive portions of the study of natural history.

As in other orders, so among beetles, the male insect is often different in form from the female. Not sufficient cognisance has been taken of this fact, except where the describer of a species has himself been able to study the insects in their homes, or where he has attached some weight to the observations of the field naturalist who has collected for him. Some results of this are evident in Captain Broun's list, and a few are noted below with other synonyms. The frequent description of identical species in New Zealand and England

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will not cause so much trouble, as in most instances the identity is obvious.

It is not for me to attempt to criticize the work of the able naturalist who has for a quarter of a century studied this order, but the reflection suggests itself that the larger genera might very well be tabulated by the only one who is at present in a position to do so. Among the genera most in need of such a tabulation are Bembidium, Cyphon, Acalles, and the Pentarthra. Is it too hazardous to say that when a table cannot be prepared, then the species are not, distinct? I have tabulated some families with much advantage to myself, but I am not anxious to publish my work while Captain Broun is able to do the same thing in a more accurate manner.

Descriptions of three new species are submitted, all from the south.


Mecodema bullatum, n. sp.

Elongate, parallel, coppery-black, shining. Head rugosely sculptured, longitudinally on-clypeus and above eyes, transversely on vertex, which is sometimes almost smooth. Neck closely punctate. Eyes moderately prominent. Thorax quite similar in shape to that of sculpturatum, with strongly crenate margins. The central and basal foveæ are well marked, and the surface has, in addition to moderately distant but conspicuous striæ, a band of punctation along both base and apex. Elytra parallel - sided, rounded behind. Each has eight rows of finely punctured striæ, somewhat obscured by transverse rugosities. The alternate interstices are the widest, and, being interrupted, present each the appearance of being formed of from six to ten oblong flattened tubercles. The lateral sculpture is inconspicuous. The sculpture of the underside is similar to that of sculpturatum, but less pronounced. Length, 25 mm.

Puysegur Point; Mr. F. Sandager.

The species belongs to the sculpturatum group, and is most nearly allied to littoreum, the sculpture of whose wingcases might easily be developed into that of bullatum.

Mecodema infimate, n. sp.

Elongate, parallel, medially narrowed, shining fusconigrous; femora, palpi, and basal joints of the antennæ shining-red. Head with the vertex quite smooth, the occiput punctured, the clypeus and the swollen orbits wrinkled. Thorax elongate, not much narrowed in front but considerably so behind, the situation gentle. Its sculpture consists of the usual basal foveæ and central line. The disc bears wellmarked transverse striæ, and the apical and basal margins

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are strongly striated longitudinally. The basal foveæ are punctured. The elytra have each nine striæ almost without punctures. The alternate interstices are twice the width of the intermediate, and, with the exception of some scattered punctures, are without sculpture. The underside of the head (except the gula), the til flaks of the prothorax, and the mesosternum are rugosely sculptured. The abdomen is sparingly punctured. The intermediate tibiæ are strongly punctate, as are the front on the apical half of their inner face. Length, 16 mm.

West Plains, Invercargill; Mr. A. Philpott.

This species may be readily distinguished from the others of small size by the almost simple striæ of the elytra.


Lissotes acmenus, n. sp.

♂ Head and thorax black, shining; abdomen shining-brown Head finely and obscurely punctured, most densely on the vertex; the hind angles prominent. That portion of the side margin that encroaches on the eye is more prominent than in helmsi. Prothorax transverse, wider than the elytra, finely and distantly punctured; not so broad in proportion to its length as in helmsi; with a fine medial line and three punctiform impressions, one in the middle of the medial line, the other two midway between that point and the side margin. Its shape is similar to that of helmsi, but the base is more markedly sinuate. Elytra short and broad, shining, each with four obscure costæ, which are more finely punctate than the intervals between them. The margins of the thorax and elytra and the four hind tibiæ externally are clothed with short golden setæ, indistinct traces of which are sometimes seen on the elytral costæ. The mandibles are exactly similar to those of smaller specimens of helmsi. Length, including mandibles, 20–25 mm.

The female will probably be very similar to the same sex of helmsi.

This fine beetle is very closely allied to both helmsi and œmulus; indeed, Dr. Sharp considers that it is identical with the former species. It is sufficiently easily distinguished by its bright appearance, narrower form, and the smaller size of fully developed individuals. I am indebted to Mr. G. Howes, Invercargill, for a good series of males.

As a first step towards a revision of the catalogue, I would suggest the following synonyms as extremely probable:—

Cicindela dunedinensis, Castelnau = C. wakefieldi, Bates.

Mecodema crenaticolle, Redtenbacher = M. lineatum, Broun.

Dryocora howittii, Pascoli = Adelostella punctatum, Broun.

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Parabrontes setiger, Broun = P. picturatus; Sharp.

Dasytes stewarti, Broun = D. nigripes, Broun.

Echinopeplus dilatatus, Broun = Heterodiscus horridus, Sh.

Oreocharis picigularis, Broun, ♂ = O. bicristata, Br., ♀.

Acalles maritimus, Broun, ♂ = A. cryptobius, Br., ♀.

Art. XXII.—On the Land Mollusca of Little Barrier Island.

[Read before the Auckland Institute, 7th October, 1901]

In the Christchurch Press of the 21st November, 1892, some notes on Little Barrier Island were published re the visits of Messrs. Henry Wright and Boscawen, of the Lands Department, the notes being probably quoted from the New Zealand Herald. There occurs the following passage: “He (Mr. Boscawen) also found the pupurangi, or New Zealand snail (Helix busbyi), which is about 4 in. or 5 in. long, and lays an egg like that of a bird.” It is curious that Mr. Shakespear, the curator of Little Barrier Island, has never found this large snail, nor has Mr. Cheeseman, on his repeated visits to the island, come across it. Possibly Mr. Boscawen's specimen was “the last of the Mohicans.” Be this as it may, the fact remains that up to the end of the last century nothing else was known about the land molluscan fauna of Little Barrier Island

In January last Mr. J. Adams, of the Thames, was paying a visit to the island, and, knowing him to be a very good collector of land-shells, I asked him to have a good look out for these mostly minute and inconspicuous creatures. On Mr. Adams's return he kindly handed over to me the harvest of his collecting, which enables me now to publish the first list of land-shells from this our native reserve. To Mr. Adams I wish to express my gratitude for the great trouble he has taken to get this nice and interesting collection together. No new species were amongst these shells, which belong to four genera and represent twelve species. There is little doubt but that further collecting will produce many additions to the list.

Fam. Rhytididæ.

(1.)Rhenea coresia, Gray.

Distribution.—North Island only, but more common in the northern part of it. It is not uncommon in the bush near Auckland, and occurs also on Chicken Island.

– 205 –

Fam. Phenacohelicidæ.

(2.) Flammulina (Allodiscus) urquharti, Suter.

Distribution,—This minute brown shell is, no doubt, easily overlooked; and, on the other side, it must be mentioned that all the species of the subgenus Allodiscus are not common shells at all. The type was found on Mount Pirongia, and specimens from the Hunua Range are also in my collection. North Island only.

(3.)Flammulina (Therasia) celinde, Gray.

Distribution.—A fairly common shell in the northern parts of the North Island, but has not been found on it further south than the Urewera country. In the South Island it was found in Happy Valley, Canterbury, where also Phenacharopa novoseelandica, Pfr., occurs.

(4.) Flammulina (Therasia) decidua, Pfeiffer.

Distribution.—Found from Auckland to Otago. This is one of the very few New Zealand snails I have seen leaving its hiding-place after a warm rain and crawling up on shrubs with smooth bark, or devoid of it.

(5.)Flammulina (Suteria) ide, Gray.

Distribution.—Occurs over the entire North Island; in moist situations of the bush, and the northern part of the South Island. Its southernmost limit is, to my knowledge, near Lake Mahinapua, where it was found by Dr. A. Dendy.

(6.) Flammulina (s. str.) pilsbryi, Suter.

Distribution.—Like most minute forms, this species is widely distributed over New Zealand, and is found on both Islands. In the South Island I found it near the Mueller Glacier in some native bush

Fam. Laomidæ.

(7.) Laoma (s. str.) pcecilosticta, Pfeiffer.

Distribution.—This is a North Island shell, not uncommon in the bush near Auckland, but rare in the southern parts. It is one of the few specifically northern species that has reached the South Island as specimens were found in Marlborough.

(8.)Laoma (Phrixgnathus) glabriuscula, Pfeiffer.

Distribution,—Hitherto only known from Auckland Province, Hawke's Bay, and Taranaki, in the North Island, but, like the foregoing species, also from Marlborough.

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(9.)Laoma (Phrixgnathus) phrynia, Hutton.

Distribution.—This rather rare species has been found from Whangarei to the Seventy-mile Bush, in the North Island; Marlborough, Nelson, Canterbury, and Hooker Valley, in the South Island; and a variety on Stewart Island.

(10.)Laoma (Phrixgnathus) allochroida, var.lateum bilicata, Suter.

Distribution.—A very minute form, living in mould in the bush, and hitherto only known from Auckland to the Fortymile Bush, in the North Island; also from Chicken Island.

Fam. Patulidæ.

(11.)Endodonta (Charopa) coma, Gray.

Distribution.—This is the only one of our land-shells that can be called common. It is found almost everywhere in the North Island, also on the Great Barrier Island. In the South Island it is, to my knowledge, not found south of the 44th degree of latitude; in the east, towards Banks Peninsula, it is replaced by Endodonta pseudocoma, Sut.

(12.) Endodonta (Charopa) colensol, Suter.

Distribution.—The type is from the Forty-mile Bush, and it has also been found near Auckland, and in Hawke's Bay, Waipawa, and Manawatu. Unknown from the South Island.

Thus it will be seen that most of the shells brought from Little Barrier Island are rather widely distributed in our colony.

With regard to the distribution of the genera, I may just mention that Rhenea, comprising small carnivorous snails, occurs as far as Queensland, New Caledonia, and one species (R. gradata, Gould) on the Tonga Islands. Flammulina is also found in Tasmania, Australia, Lord Howe Island, Norfolk Island, New Caledonia, and the Carolines; and nearly allied to it are Amphidoxa and Stephanoda, from South America, and Trachycystis, from South Africa. Once the anatomy of these genera is well known, they will most likely prove to form only one genus. Laoma, subgenus Phrixgnathus, is also known from Tasmania and southern Australia, but Laoma (restricted) is only found in New Zealand. To the same family, belongs the genus Puncium, which occurs in North America, Europe, part of Asia, and northern Africa. Endodonta, a Polynesian genus, occurs also in Tasmania, Australia, New Caledonia, the Philippine Islands, and over the Polynesian islands as far as the Hawaiian and Society Islands.

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Art. XXIII.—List of the Species described in F. W. Hutton's Manual of the New Zealand Mollusca, with the Corresponding Names used at the Present Time.

[Read before the Auckland Institute 7th October, 1901.]

Since the publication of the Manual in 1880 considerable changes in nomenclature have taken place, and for many species the New Zealand habitat has proved to be erroneous. The writer has thought that it might be useful to students in conchology to publish the present list. The chief work has been done by Captain Hutton himself in his revisions published in the “Proceedings of the Linnaean Society of New South. Wales,” which, however, are not always available to New Zealand workers in conchology.

In the first column the names are given in order of the Manual:—

  • Page

  • 1. Octopus maorum, Hutt. = O. maorum, Hutt.

  • 2. Pinnoctopus cordiformis, Q. and G. = P. cordiformis, Q. and G.

  • 2. Argonauta tuberculata, Shaw = A. nodosa, Solander.

  • 3. Onychoteuthis bartlingii, Lesueur = O. banksii, Leach

  • 3. Ommastrephes sloanii, Gray = Todarodes sloanii, Gray.

  • 3. Sepioteuthis lessoniana, Fer. = S. lessoniana, Fer.

  • 3. Sepioteuthis bilineata, Q. and G. = S. bilineata, Q. and G.

  • 4. Spirula peronii, Lam. = S. perolii, Lam.

  • 5. Patula chordata, Pfr. = Flammulina (Phenacohelix) chordata, Pfr.

  • 6. Patula iota, Pfr. = Flammulina (Phenacohelix) pilula, Reeve.

  • 6. Patula dimorpha, Pfr. = Flammulina (Allodiscus) dimorpha, Pfr.

  • 6. Patula hypopolia, Pfr. = Flammulina (Phacussa) hypopolia, Pfr.

  • 6. Patula decidua, Pfr. = Flammulina (Therasia) decidua, Pfr.

  • 6. Patula celinde, Gray = Flammulina (Therasia) celinde, Gray.

  • 7. Patula ziczac, Gould = Flammulina (Thalassohelix) ziczac, Gould.

  • 7. Patula kappa, Pfr. = Flammulina (Thalassohelix) ziczac, Gould.

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  • 7. Patula varicosa, Pfr. = Endodonta (Thaumatodon) varicosa, Pfr.

  • 7. Patula tiara, Mighels, not New Zealand (HawaiianIslands).

  • 8. Patula coma, Gray = Endodonta (Charopa) coma, Gray.

  • 8. Patula tau, Pfr. = Endodonta (Thaumatodon) tau, Pfr

  • 8. Patula gamma, Pfr. = Endodonta (Charopa) buccinella, Reeve.

  • 8. Patula egesta, Gray = Endodonta (Charopa) egesta, Gray.

  • 9. Patula obnubila, Reeve = Flammulina (Thalassohelix) igniflua, Reeve, var. obnubila, Reeve.

  • 9. Patula anguiculus, Reeve = Endodonta (Charopa) anguiculus, Reeve.

  • 9. Patula ide, Gray = Flammulina (Suteria) ide, Gray.

  • 9. Patula eta, Pfr. = Endodonta (Charopa) corniculum, Reeve.

  • 9. Patula zeta, Pfr = Endodonta (Charopa) infecta, Reeve.

  • 10. Patula venulata, Pfr = Flammulina (Allodiscus) venu lata, Pfr.

  • 10. Patula portia, Gray = Flammulina (Thalassohelix) ziczac, Gould.

  • 10. Patula omega, Pfr = Flammulina (s. str.) compressi voluta, Reeve.

  • 11. Patula tullia, Gray = Flammulina (Allodiscus) tullia, Gray.

  • 11. Patula lambda, Pfr. = Flammulina (Thalassohelix) igniflua, Reeve.

  • 11. Patula biconcava, Pfr = Endodonta (Charopa) biconcava, Pfr

  • 12. Vitrina dimidiata, Pfr. = Otoconcha dimidiata, Pfr

  • 12. Vitrina zebra, Le Guillou = Flammulina (s. str.) zebra, Le Guill.

  • 12. Daudebardia novoseelandica, Pfr. = Schizoglossa novoseelandica, Pfr.

  • 12. Hyalina corneo-fulva, Pfr = Vitrea cellaria, Muller (introduced).

  • 13. Hyalina novarse, Pfr. = Xesta novarse, Pfr.

  • 13. Succinea tomentosa, Pfr = Limnsea tomentosa, Pfr.

  • 14. Tornatellina novoseelandica, Pfr. = Tornatellina novoseelandica, Pfr

  • 14. Placostylus bovinus, Brug. = Placostylus hongii, Lesson.

  • 14. Placostylus novoseelandicus, Pfr. = Placostylus hongii, var. novoseelandica, Pfr.

  • 15. Placostylus antipodum, Gray = Cochlostyla fulgetrum, Brod. (introduced).

  • 15. Pupa novoseelandica, Pfr. = Endodonta (Phenacharopa) novoseelandica, Pfr.

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  • 16. Helix (Rhagada) reinga, Gray, not New Zealand (Australia).

  • 16. Helix (Rhytida) greenwoodi, Gray = Rhytida green-woodi, Gray.

  • 16. Helix (Rhytida) dunniae, Gray = Rhytida dunniae, Gray.

  • 17. Helix (Thalassia) regularis, Pfr. = Laoma (Phrixgnathus) regularis, Pfr.

  • 17. Helix (Thalassia) heldiana, Pfr. = Laoma (Phrixgnathus) erigone, Gray.

  • 17. Helix (Thalassia) conella, Pfr. = Laoma (Phrixgnathus) conella, Pfr

  • 17. Helix (Thalassia) poecilosticta, Pfr. = Laoma (s. str.) poecilosticta, Pfr

  • 18. Helix (Thalassia) erigone, Gray = Laoma (Phrixgnathus) erigone, Gray

  • 18. Helix (Thalassia) alpha, Pfr. = Endodonta (Eschrodomus) stipulata, Reeve.

  • 18. Helix (Thalassia) beta, Pfr. = Endodonta (Eschrodomus) barbatula,Reeve.

  • 18. Helix (Thalassia) Ophelia, Pfr. = Flammulina (Therasia) ophelia, Pfr.

  • 19. Helix (Thalassia) zealandiae, Gray = Flammulina (Thalassohelix) zelandiae, Gray.

  • 19. Helix (Thalassia) fatua, Pfr. = Laoma (Phrixgnathus) fatua, Pfr.

  • 19. Helix (Thalassia) antipoda, H, and J. = Flammulina (Thalassohelix) zelandiae, Gray, var. antipoda, H. and J.

  • 19. Helix (Thalassia) aucklandica, Le Guill. = Flammulina (? Thalassohelix) aucklandica, Le Guill.

  • 19. Helix (Thalassia) sciadium, Pfr = Laoma (Phrixgnathus) sciadium, Pfr

  • 20. Helix (Thalassia) irradiata, Gould = Flammulina (Carthusa) kivi, Gray.

  • 20. Helix(?) kivi, Gray = Flammulina (Carthaea) kivi, Gray

  • 20. Helix granum, Pfr. = Flammulina (Allodiscus) granum,Pfr.

  • 20. Helix guttula, Pfr., not New Zealand.

  • 21. Laoma leimonias, Gray = Laoma (s. str.) leimonias, Gray

  • 21. Paryphanta busbyi, Gray = Paryphanta busbyi, Gray

  • 22. Paryphanta hochstetteri, Pfr = Paryphanta hochstet teri, Pfr

  • 22. Paryphanta urnula,Pfr = Paryphanta urnula, Pfr

  • 22. Paryphanta phlogophora, Pfr. = Flammulina (s. str.) zebra, Le Guill

  • 23. Paryphanta glabriuscula, Pfr. = Laoma (Phrixgnathus) glabriuscula, Pfr.

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  • 23. Paryphanta epsilon, Pfr. = Endodonta (Charopa) caputspinulse, Reeve.

  • 23. Paryphanta chiron, Gray = Flammulina (s. str.) chiron, Gray.

  • 23. Paryphanta rapida, Pfr., not New Zealand.

  • 24. Paryphanta crebriflammis, Pfr. = Flammulina (s. str.) crebriflammis, Pfr.

  • 24. Paryphanta jeffreysiana, Pfr. = Rhenea jeffreysiana, Pfr.

  • 24. Paryphanta coresia, Gray = Rhenea coresia, Gray.

  • 25. Nanina mariae, Gray = Laoma (Phrixgnathus) mariae, Gray.

  • 25. Limax molestus, Hutt. = Limax agrestis, L (introduced).

  • 26. Milax antipodum, Pfr. = Amalia gagates, Drap. (introduced).

  • 26. Milax emarginatus, Hutt. = Amalia gagates, Drap. (intrduced).

  • 26. Arion incommodus, Hutt. = Arion fuscus, Mull, (introduced).

  • 27.Janella bitentaculata, Q. and G. = Athoracophorus bitentaculatus, Q. and G.

  • 27. Konophora marmorea, Hutt. = Athoracophorus (Konophora) marmorea, Hutt.

  • 28. Onchidella patelloides, Q. and G. = Oncidiella patelloides, Q. and G.

  • 28. Onchidella nigricans, Q. and G. = Oncidiella nigricans, Q. and G.

  • 28. Onchidella irrorata, Gould = Oncidiella irrorata, Gould.

  • 29. Latia neritoides, Gray = Latia neritoides, Gray.

  • 29. Latia lateralis, Gould = Latia neritoides, var. lateralis, Gould.

  • 29. Physa wilsoni, Tryon, not New Zealand.

  • 30. Physa antipodea, Sow. = Isidora antipodea, Sow.

  • 30. Physa gibbosa, Gould, not New Zealand (Australia).

  • 30. Physa guyonensis, T. Woods = Isidora variabilis, Gray.

  • 30. " novse-zealandiae, Sow. = Isidora variabilis, Gray.

  • 30. " tabulata, Gould = Isidora tabulata, Gould.

  • 31. " variabilis, Gray = Isidora variabilis, Gray

  • 31. " moasta, Adams = Isidora tabulata, Gould.

  • 31. " lirata, T. Woods = Isidora tabulata, Gould.

  • 31. " cumingii Ad., not New Zealand (Australia).

  • 32. Planorbis corinna, Gray = Planorbis corinna, Gray.

  • 32. Melampus commodus, Ad., not New Zealand.

  • 32. " zealandicus, Ad., not New Zealand.

  • 33. Tralia costellaris, Ad., not New Zealand.

  • 33. " adamsianus, Pfr., not New Zealand.

  • 34. Ophicardelus australis, Q. and G. = Tralia (Ophicardelus)australis, Q. and G.

  • 34. Marinula filholi, Hutt. = Marinula filholi, Hutt.

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  • 34. Leuconia obsoleta, Hutt. = Leuconopsis obsoleta, Hutt

  • 35. Amphibola avellana, Chemn. = Amphibola crenata, Martyn.

  • 35. Amphibola quoyana, P. and M., not New Zealand (Australia).

  • 36. Siphonaria obliquata, Saw. = Siphonaria obliquata, Sow.

  • 36. Siphonaria sipho, Saw. = Siphonaria zelandica, Q.and G.

  • 36. Siphonaria cancer, Reeve = Siphonaria zelandica, Q. and G.

  • 36. Siphonaria australis, Q. and G. = Siphonaria australis, Q. and G.

  • 36. Siphonaria spinosa, Reeve, not New Zealand (Natal).

  • 36. Siphonaria redimiculum, Reeve = Siphonaria tristensis,Leach.

  • 37. Gadinia nivea, Hutt. = Gadinia nivea, Hutt.

  • 37. Cyclophorus lignarius, Pfr. = Lagochilus lignarius, Pfr.

  • 37. " cytora, Gray = Lagochilus cytora, Gray.

  • 38. Paxillus peregrina, Gould = Paxillus peregrinus Gould.

  • 38. Diplommatina chordata, Pfr. = Palaina chordata, Pfr.

  • 39. Realia hochstetteri, Pfr. = Realia hochstetteri, Pfr.

  • 39. " egea, Gray = Realia egea, Gray.

  • 39. " turriculata, Pfr. = Realia turriculata, Pfr.

  • 39. " carinella, Pfr. = Realia carinella, Pfr.

  • 40. Omphalotropis vestita, Pfr. = Omphalotropis vestita, Pfr.

  • 40. Assiminea purchasi, Pfr. = Hydrocena purchasi, Pfr.

  • 41. Conus zealandicus, Hutt., not New Zealand (Australia) = C. anemone.

  • 42. Acus kirki, Hutt. = Terebra tristis, Desh.

  • 42. Pleurotoma buchanani, Hutt. = Surcula trailli, Hutt.

  • 42. Pleurotoma trailli, Hutt. = Surcula trailli, Hutt.

  • 43. Pleurotoma zealandica, Smith = Surcula cheesemani, Hutt.

  • 43. Pleurotoma antipodum, Smith = Surcula albula, Hutt.

  • 43. Pleurotoma albula, Hutt. = Surcula albula, Hutt.

  • 43. Drillia novae - zealandiae, Reeve = Surcula novae-zea-landiae, Reeve.

  • 44. Drillia laevis, Hutt. = Drillia leavis, Hutt.

  • 44. " maorum, Smith = Surcula trailli, Hutt.

  • 44. " amula, Ang., not New Zealand (Australia).

  • 44. " cheesemani, Hutt. = Surcula cheesemani, Hutt.

  • 45. Lachesis sulcata, Hutt. = Columbella sulcata, Hutt.

  • 45. Defranchia luteo-fasciata. Reeve = Clathurella sinclairi, Smith.

  • 45. Daphnella cancellata, Hutt. = Daphnella lymneiformis, Kiener.

  • 46. Cancellaria trailli, Hutt. = Cancellaria trailli, Hutt.

  • 46. " ampullacera, Less., not New Zealand.

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  • 46. Murex zealandicus, Q. and G. = Murex zelandicus, Q. and G.

  • 47. Murex octogonus, Q. and G. = Murex octogous, Q. and G.

  • 47. Murex angasi, Crose = Murex angasi, Grosse.

  • 47. Murex candida, H. and A. Ad. = Trophon ambiguus, Phil.

  • 47. Typhis cleryi, Petit, not New Zealand (Australia).

  • 48. Trophon ambiguus, H. and J. = Trophon ambiguus, Phil.

  • 48. Trophon stangeri, Gray = Trophon stangeri, Gray.

  • 48. Trophon incisus, Gould, not New Zealand (California).

  • 48. Trophon inferus, Hutt. = Trophon inferus, Hutt.

  • 49. Trophon dubius, Hutt. = Taron dubius, Hutt.

  • 49. Trophon paivse, Crosse = Trophon paivae, Crosse.

  • 49. Trophon duodecimus, Gray = Trophon duodecimus, Gray.

  • 49. Trophon spiratum, H. and A. Ad. = Trophon stangeri, Gray.

  • 49. Trophon coronatum, H. and A. Ad., not New Zealand (Japan).

  • 50. Fusus spiralis, Ad. = Fusus spiralis, Ad.

  • 50. Neptunsea zealandica, Q. and G. = Siphonalia mandarina Duclos.

  • 50. Neptunsea caudata, Q. and G. = Siphonalia mandarina, var. caudata, Q. and G.

  • 50. Neptunsea dilatata, Q. and G. = Siphonalia dilatata, Q and G.

  • 50. Neptunsea nodosa, Mart. = Siphonalia nodosa, Mart.

  • 51. Neptunsea traversi, Hutt. = Euthria lineata, var. traversi, Hutt.

  • 51. Euthria lineata, Chemn. = Euthria lineata, Martyn.

  • 51. Euthria vittata, Q. and G. = Euthria vittata, Q. and G.

  • 52. Euthria bicincta, Hutt. = Euthria vittata, Q. and G.

  • 52. Euthria littorinoides, Reeve = Euthria littorinoides, Reeve.

  • 52. Euthria martensiana, Hutt. = Euthria martensiana, Hutt.

  • 52. Euthria antarctica, Reeve = Euthria antarctica, Reeve.

  • 53. Cominella maculata, Mart. = Cominella maculata, Mart.

  • 53. " testudinea, Chemn. = Cominella testudinea, Chemn

  • 53. " nassoides, Reeve = Cominella nassoides, Reeve.

  • 53. " lineolata, Lam. = Cominella virgata, Adams.

  • 54. " lurida, Phil. = Cominella lurida, Phil.

  • 54. " huttoni, Kob. = Cominella huttoni, Kob.

  • 54. " melo, Less. = Cominella maculata, Mart.

  • 54. " funerea, Gould = Cominella lurida, Phil.

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  • 54. Cominella quoyi, Kiener = Cominella virgata, Ad.

  • 54. " lactea, Reeve = Cominella lineolata, Lam.

  • 55. Nassa rutilans, Reeve, not New Zealand (Australia).

  • 55. Nassa nigella, Reeve, not New Zealand (Australia).

  • 55. Nassa novce-zealandice, Reeve, not New Zealand (Philippines).

  • 55. Nassa corticata, Ad., not New Zealand (Australia).

  • 56. Purpura haustrum, Mart. = Purpura haustrum, Mart.

  • 56. Polytropa textiliosa, Lam. = Purpura succincta, Lam.

  • 56. Polytropa succincta, Lam. = Purpura succincta, Lam.

  • 56. Polytropa striata, Mart. = Purpura striata, Mart.

  • 56. Polytropa squamata, Hutt. = Purpura striata, var. aqua mata Hutt.

  • 57. Polytropa retiaria, Hutt. = Trophon stangeri, Gray.

  • 57. Polytropa quoyi, Reeve = Trophon stangeri, Gray.

  • 57. Polytropa scobina, Q. and G. = Purpura scobina, Q. and G.

  • 57. Polytropa patens, H. and J. = Trophon patens, H. and J.

  • 57. Polytropa biconica, Hutt. = Purpura scobina, var. albomarginata, Desh.

  • 57. Purpura tesselliata, Less., not again recognised.

  • 58. Ricinula iodostoma, Less., not New Zealand (Polynesia).

  • 58. Ancillaria australis, Sow. = Ancilla australis, Sow.

  • 59. Ancillaria pyramidalis, Reeve = Ancilla pyramidalis, Reeve.

  • 59. Coriocella ophione, Gray = Marsenia ophione, Gray.

  • 60. Latirus decoratus, Ad., not New Zealand (Andaman Islands).

  • 60. Mitra obscura Hutt. = Mitra obscura, Hutt.

  • 60. " rubiginosa, Hutt. = Vulpecula rubiginosa, Hutt.

  • 61. Columbella zebra, Gray, not New Zealand (Polynesia &c.)

  • 61. Columbella choava, Reeve = Columbella choava, Reeve

  • 61. Voluta pacifica, Lam. = Scaphella pacifica, Lam

  • 62. Voluta gracilis, Swains. = Scaphella gracilis, Swains.

  • 62. Voluta kirki, Hutt., not New Zealand (Vol. flavicans, Gmel.)

  • 62. Marginella albescens, Hutt. = Marginella infans, Reeve.

  • 63. " vittata, Hutt., not New Zealand.

  • 63. Erato lactea, Hutt. = Marginella muscaria, Lam.

  • 63. Tritonium australis, Lam = Lotorium nodiferum, Lam.

  • 64. Tritonium spengleri, Chemn. = Lotorium spengleri, (Chemn.) Lam.

  • 64. Tritonium olearium, L. = Lotorium olearium, L.

  • 64. Tritomum fusiformis, Kien., not New Zealand.(Australia).

  • 64. Ranella leucostoma, Lam. = Apollo leucostomus, Lam.

  • 65. " vexillum, Sow. = Apollo argus, Gmel.

  • 65. Dolium variegatum, Lam. = Dolium variegatum, Lam.

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  • 66. Cassis pyrum, Lam, = Semicassis achatina, var. pyrum, Lam

  • 66. Cassis achatina, Lam. = Semicassis achatina, Lam.

  • 66. Cyprcea punctata, L., not New Zealand (Philippines).

  • 67. Trivia australis, Lam. = Trivia australis, Lam,

  • 67. " coccinella, Lam. = Trivia europsea, Montagu.

  • 67. Struthiolaria papulosa, Mart. = Struthiolaria papulosa, Mart.

  • 68. Struthiolaria australis, Gmel. = Struthiolaria vermis, Mart.

  • 68. Struthiolaria inermis, Sow. = Struthiolaria vermis, Mart.

  • 68. Struthiolaria tricarinata, Less. = Struthiolaria tricarinata, Less.

  • 69. Trichotropis inornata, Hutt. = Trichotropis inornata, Hutt.

  • 69. Scalaria zelebori, Frfld. = Scalaria zelebori, Frfld.

  • 70. " lyra, Sow. = Scalaria tenella, Hutt.

  • 70. Philippia lutea, Lam. = Solarium luteum, Lam.

  • 71. Janthina communis, Lam. = Janthina fragilis, Lam.

  • 71. " iricolor, Reeve = Janthina globosa, Swains.

  • 71. " exigua, Lam. = Janthina exigua, Lam.

  • 71. Natica zealandica, Q. and G. = Natica zelandica, Q. and G.

  • 72. Lunatia australis, Hutt. = Natica australis, Hutt.

  • 72. " vitrea, Hutt. = Natica vitrea, Hutt.

  • 72. Obeliscus roseus, Hutt. = Pyramidella rosea, Hutt.

  • 72. Chemnitzia zealandica, Hutt. = Turbonilla zealandica, Hutt.

  • 73. Odostomia lactea, Ang. = Odontostomia angasi, Tryon.

  • 73. Eulima chathamensis, Hutt. = Rissoina rugulosa, Hutt.

  • 74. Cerithidea alternata, Hutt. = Potamides alternatus, Hutt.

  • 74. Cerithidea bicarinata, Gray = Potamides bicarinatus, Gray.

  • 74. Cerithidea nigra, H. and J. = Potamides subcarinatus, Sow.

  • 74. Bittium terebelloides, Mts. = Cerithiopsis terebelloides, Mts.

  • 75. Bittium exilis, Hutt. = Bittium exile, Hutt.

  • 75. Triphoris angasi, Crosse = Triforis angasi, Crosse.

  • 75. Triphoris gemmulatus, Ad. and Reeve = Triforis gemmu latus, Ad. and Reeve.

  • 78. Melanopsis trifasciata, Gray = Melanopsis trifasciata, Gray.

  • 78. Melanopsis strangei, Reeve = Melanopsis trifasciata, Gray.

  • 78. Littorina cincta, Q. and G. = Littorina cincta, Q. and G.

  • 79. " coerulescens, Lam = Littorina mauritiana, Lam.

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  • 79. Littorina luctuosa, Reeve = Littorina cincta, Q. and G.

  • 79. " novce-zealandice, Reeve, not New Zealand.

  • 79. Risella melanostoa, Gmel = Risella melanostoma, Gmel.

  • 79. Fossarina varius, Hutt. = Fossarina varia, Hutt.

  • 80. Rissoina plicata Hutt. = Rissoia rugulosa Hutt.

  • 80. " rugulosa, Hutt. = Rissoia rugulosa, Hutt

  • 80. " purpurea, Hutt = Rissoia subfusca, Hutt.

  • 80. " subfusca, Hutt. = Rissoia subfusca, Hutt.

  • 80. " fasciata, Ad. = Rissoina fasciata, A. Ad,

  • 81. Barleeia flamulata, Hutt. = Phasianella huttoni, Pilsbry.

  • 81. " rosea, Hutt. = Barleeia rosea, Hutt.

  • 81. " nana, Hutt. = Rissoia huttoni, Sut.

  • 81. " impolita. Hutt. = Odontostomia impolita, Hutt.

  • 81. Bythinella antipoda, Gray = Potamopyrgus antipodum, Gray.

  • 81. Bythinella zealandiae, Gray = P. antipodum, var. zealandise, Gray

  • 82. Bythinella egena, Gould = P. antipodum, var. egena,Gould.

  • 82. Bythinella spelsea, Frfld = Potamopyrgus spelseus, Frfld.

  • 82. Bythinella fisheri, Dkr. = Potamopyrgus corolla, Gould.

  • 82. Bythinella badia, Gould = Potamopyrgus corolla, Gould.

  • 82. Bythinella reevei, Frfld. = Potamopyrgus corolla, Gould.

  • 83. Potamopyrgus corolla, Gld. = Potamopyrgus corolla, Gould.

  • 83. Turritella rosea, Q. and G. = Turritella rosea, Q. and G.

  • 84. " vittata, Hutt. = Turritella vittata, Hutt.

  • 84. " fulminata, Hutt. = Turritella fulminata, Hutt.

  • 84. " pagoda, Reeve = Turritella pagoda, Reeve.

  • 84. Eglisia symmetrica, Hutt. = Turritella kanieriensis, Harris.

  • 85. Siphonium lamellosum, Hutt. = Vermicularia lamellosa,Hutt

  • 85. Cladopoda zealandica, Q. and G. = Vermicularia zelandica, Q. and G.

  • 85. Stephopoma roseum, Q. and G. = Vermicularia rosea, Q. and G.

  • 86. Siliquaria australis, Q. and G. = Tenagodes australis, Q. and G.

  • 86. Trochita scutum, Less. = Galyptraea scutum; Less

  • 86. Trochita novae-zelandise, Less. = Calyptraea maculata,Q, and G.

  • 87. Crypta costata, Desh. = Crepidula aculeata, Gmel.

  • 87. " monoxyla, Less. = Crepidula monoxyla, Less.

  • 87. " unguiformis, Lam = Crepidula crepidula L.

  • 88. Hipponyx australis, Lam. = Hipponyx sp.

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  • 88. Acmaea pileopsis, Q. and G. = Acmasa pileopsis, Q. and G.

  • 88. " cantharus, Reeve = Acmsea cantharus, Reeve.

  • 88. " fragilis, Chemn. = Acmsea fragilis, Chemn.

  • 89. " corticata, Hutt. = Acmasa corticata, Hutt.

  • 89. Nerita atrata, Lam. = Nerita nigra, Gray.

  • 90. Neritina zealandica, Recl., not New Zealand (Polynesia).

  • 90. Turbo smaragdus, Mart. = Turbo helicinus, Born.

  • 91. Turbo granosus, Mart. = Turbo granosus, Mart.

  • 91. Turbo shandi, Hutt. = Astralium(?) shandi. Hutt.

  • 91. Turbo lajonkairii, Desh., not New Zealand (Indian Archipelago).

  • 91. Turbo undulatus, Chemn., not New Zealand (Australia).

  • 92. Calcar cookii, Lam = Astralium sulcatum, Mart.

  • 92. " davisii, Stowe =A. sulcatum, var. davisii, Stowe.

  • 92. " imperialis, Lam. = Astralium heliotropium, Mart.

  • 92. Rotella zealandica, H. and J. = Ethalia zelandica, H. and J.

  • 93. Anthora tuberculata, Gray. = Trochus viridis, Gmel.

  • 94. Anthora tritonis, A. Ad. = Trochus viridis, Gmel.

  • 94. Anthora viridis, Gmel. = Trochus viridis, Gmel.

  • 94. Anthora chathamensis, Hutt. = Trochus chathamensis, Hutt.

  • 94. Anthora tiarata, Q. and G. = Trochus tiaratus, Q. and G.

  • 95. Clanculus variegatus, Ad., not New Zealand.

  • 95. Euchelus bellus, Hutt. = Euchelus bellus, Hutt.

  • 95. Diloma aethiops, Gmel. = Monodonta aethiops, Gmel.

  • 95. Diloma hectori, Hutt. = Monodonta corrosa, A. Adams.

  • 96. Diloma undulosa, Ad. = M. corrosa, var. undulosa, Ad.

  • 96. Diloma nigerrima, Chemn. = Monodonta coracina, Troschel.

  • 96. Diloma corrosa, Ad. = Monodonta corrosa, A. Adams.

  • 96. Diloma concolor, Ad. = Monodonta aethiops, Gmel.

  • 96. Diloma gaimardi, Phil. = Monodonta lugubris, Gmel.

  • 96. Trochocochlea subrostrata, Gray = Monodonta subrostrata, Gray.

  • 96. Trochocochlea mimetica, Hutt. = Monodonta crinita, Phil.

  • 97. Trochocochlea excavata, Ad. and Ang. = Monodonta excavata, Ad. and Ang.

  • 97. Chlorostoma niger, Chemn., not New Zealand.

  • 97. Thalotia conica, Gray = Cantharidus conicus, Gray.

  • 98. Zizyphinus punctulatus, Mart. = Calliostoma punctulatum, Mart.

  • 98. Zizyphinus granatum, Chemn. = Calliostoma tigris, Mart.

  • 98. Zizyphinus spectabilis, Ad. = Calliostoma spectabilis,Ad.

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  • 98. Zizyphinus scitulus, Ad., not New Zealand (Australia).

  • 98. Zizyphinus selectus, Chemn. = Calliostoma selectum, Chemn.

  • 98. Zizyphinus cunninghami, Gray = Calliostoma selectum, Chemn.

  • 99. Cantharidus iris, Gmel. = Cantharidus iris, Gmel.

  • 99. Cantharidus zealandicus, Ad. = Cantharidus iris, Gmel.

  • 99. Cantharidus purpuratus, Mart. = Cantharidus purpuratus, Mart.

  • 99. Cantharidus texturatus, Gld. = C. purpuratus, var. texturata, Gld

  • 100. Cantharidus jucundus, Gld., not New Zealand.

  • 100. Cantharidus pallidus, H and J. = Cantharidus purpuratus, Mart.

  • 100. Cantharidus episcopus, H. and J. = Cantharidus pruninus, Gould.

  • 100. Cantharidus huttoni, Smith = C. tenebrosus, var. huttoni, Smith.

  • 100. Cantharidus pupillus, Hutt. = Cantharidus pupillus, Hutt.

  • 101. Cantharidus tenebrosus, A. Ad = Cantharidus tenebrosus, A. Ad.

  • 101. Cantharidus rufozona, A. Ad. = Cantharidus rufozona, A. Ad.

  • 101. Elenchus dilatatus, Sow. = Cantharidus dilatatus, Sow.

  • 101. Bankivia varians, Beck. = Cantharidus varians, Beck.

  • 102. Monilea egena, Gould = Monilea egena, Gld.

  • 102. Gibbula sanguinea, Gray = Cantharidus sanguineus, Gray.

  • 102. Gibbula simulata, Hutt. = Cantharidus dilatatus, Sow.

  • 102. Gibbula nitida, Ad. and Ang. = Gibbula nitida, Ad. and Ang.

  • 102. Gibbula inconspicua, Hutt. = Gibbula nitida, Ad. and Ang.

  • 102. Gibbula oppressa, Hutt. = Trochus oppressus, Hutt.

  • 103. Margarita antipoda, H. and J. = Gibbula antipoda, H. and J.

  • 103. Margarita fulminata, Hutt. = Gibbula fulminata, Hutt.

  • 103. " rosea, Hutt. = Gibbula rosea, Hutt.

  • 103. " zealandica, Sow. = Monilea egena, Gould.

  • 103. Scissurella mantelli, Woodw. = Scissurella mantelli Woodw.

  • 104. Haliotis iris, Mart. = Haliotis iris, Mart.

  • 104. Haliotis rugoso-plicata, Chemn. = Haliotis rugoso-plicata, Chemn,

  • 104. Haliotis gibba, Phil. = Haliotis virginea, Chemn.

  • 105. Haliotis zealandica, Reeve, not New Zealand(?).

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  • 105. Haliotis cruenta, Reeve = Haliotis rugoso - plicata, Chemn.

  • 105. Haliotis stomatiæformis, Reeve, not New Zealand (Australia).

  • 105. Fissurella squamosa, Hutt. = Fissurella squamosa, Hutt.

  • 106. Lucapina monilifera, Hutt. = Megatebennus moniliferus, Hutt.

  • 106. Emarginula striatula, Q. and G. = Emarginula striatula, Q. and G.

  • 106. Emarginula australis, Q. and G., not New Zealand (Australia).

  • 106. Tugalia parmophoidea, Q. and G. = Subemarginula parmophoidea, Q. and G.

  • 106. Parmophorus unguis, L. = Scutum ambiguum, Chemn.

  • 107. Patella magellanica, Mart. = Patella strigilis, H. and J.

  • 107. Patella inconspicua, Gray = P. ornata, var. inconspicua, Gray.

  • 107. Patella redimiculum, Reeve = P. strigilis, var. redimiculum, Reeve.

  • 108. Patella reevei, Hutt. = Patella denticulata, Mart.

  • 108. " argyropsis, Less. = Patella radians, Gmel.

  • 108. " affinis, Reeve = P. radians, var. pholidota, Less.

  • 108. " pholidota, Less. = P. radians, var. pholidota, Less.

  • 108. " radians, Gmel. = Patella radians, Gmel.

  • 109. " denticulata, Mart. = Patella denticulata, Mart.

  • 109. " flava, Hutt. = P. radians, var. flava, Hutt.

  • 109. " antipodum, Smith = Patella tramoserica, Mart.

  • 109. " tramoserica, Mart. = Patella tramoserica, Mart.

  • 109. " stellularia, Q. and G. = Patella stellifera, Chemn.

  • 109. " stellifera, Chemn. = Patella stellifera, Chemn.

  • 110. " stella, Less., not New Zealand.

  • 110. " earlii, Reevè = P. radians, var. earlii, Reeve.

  • 110. " flexuosa, Hutt. = P. radians, var. earlii, Reeve.

  • 110. " rubiginosa, Hutt. = Acmæa lacunosa, Reeve.

  • 111. Chiton pellis-serpentis, Q. and G. = Chiton pellis-serpentis, Q. and G.

  • 111. Chiton sinclairi, Grau = Chiton sinclairi, Gray.

  • 111. Chiton stangeri, Reeve = Chiton stangeri, Reeve.

  • 111. Chiton concentricus, Reeve, not New Zealand (= Ch. jugosus, Gld.).

  • 112. Chiton sulcatus, Q. and G. = Chiton limans, Sykes.

  • 112. Chiton insculptus, A. Ad. = Chiton canaliculatus, Q. and G.

  • 112. Chiton glaucus, Gray = Chiton quoyi, Desh.

  • 112. Chiton æreus, Reeve = Chiton æreus, Reeve.

  • 112. Lepidopleurus canaliculatus, Q. and G. = Chiton canaliculatus, Q. and G.

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  • 113. Lepidopleurus contractus, Reeve, not New Zealand.

  • 113. Lepidopleurus longicymbus, Blainv. = Ischnochiton longicymba, Q. and G.

  • 113. Lepidopleurus circumvallatus, Reeve = Ischnochiton parkeri, Sut.

  • 113. Lepidopleurus empleurus, Hutt. = Callochiton empleurus, Hutt.

  • 113. Lepidopleurus rudis, Hutt., not New Zealand.

  • 114. Tonicia undulata, Q. and G. = Onithoehiton undulatus, Q. and G.

  • 114. Tonicia rubiginosa, Hutt. = Acanthochitus rubiginosus, Hutt.

  • 114. Tonicia lineolata, Fremty = Onithochiton undulatus, Q. and G.

  • 114. Tonicia strata, Sow. = Plaxiphora subatrata, Pilsbry.

  • 115. Acanthopleura cælatus, Reeve = Plaxiphora cælata, Reeve.

  • 115. Chætopleura nobilis, Gray = Eudoxochiton nobilis, Gray.

  • 116. Mopalia ciliata, Sow. = Plaxiphora suteri, Pilsbry.

  • 116. Plaxiphora biramosa, Q. and G. = Plaxiphora biramosa, Q. and G.

  • 116. Plaxiphora terminalis, Smith = Plaxiphora cælata, Reeve.

  • 117. Acanthochites zealandicus, Q. and G. = Acanthochites zelandicus, Q. and G.

  • 117. Acanthochites porphyreticus, Reeve = Acanthochites violacens, Q. and G.

  • 117. Acanthochites ovatus, Hutt. = Plaxiphora ovata, Hutt.

  • 118. Acanthochites violacca, Q. and G. = Acanthochites violaceus, Q. and G.

  • 118. Cryptoconchus porosus, Burrow = Acanthochites porosus, Burrow.

  • 119. Carinaria australis, Q. and G. = Carinaria australis, Q. and G.

  • 119. Buccinulus kirki, Hutt. = Aetæon kirki, Hutt.

  • 119. " albus, Hutt. = Solidula alba, Hutt.

  • 120. Bullina lineata, Wood = Bullinula scabra, Gmel.

  • 120. Cylichna striata, Hutt. = Bullinulla striata, Hutt.

  • 121. Bulla oblonga, Ad. = Bulla autralis (Gray), Q. and G.

  • 121. " quoyi, Gray = Bulla quoyi, Gray.

  • 121. Haminea zealandiæ, Gray = Haminea zelandise, Gray.

  • 121. Haminea obesa, Sow. = Haminea zelandiæ, Gray.

  • 122. Haminea acuticulifera, Smith = Haminea cuticulifera, Smith.

  • 122. Akera tumida, Ad. = Akera tumida, Ad.

  • 123. Philine angasi, Crosse = Philine aperta, L.

  • 123. Aplysia brunnea, Hutt. = Tethys brunnea, Hutt.

  • 123. " venosa, Hutt. = Tethys venosa, Hutt.

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  • 123. Aclesia glauca, Cheesem. = Notarchus glaucus, Ch.

  • 124. Pleurobranchus ornatus, Cheesem. = P. ornatus, Ch.

  • 124. Pleurobranchæa novæ-zealandiæ, Cheesem. = P. novæ-zealandiæ, Ch.

  • 125. Doris punctata, Q. and G. = Doris punctata, Q. and G.

  • 125. " tuberculata, Cuv. = Archidoris tuberculata, Cuv.

  • 126. " granulosa, Abrah. = Doris granulosa, Abrah.

  • 126. " longula, Abrah. = Doris longula, Abrah.

  • 126. " muscula, Abrah. = Doris muscula, Abrah.

  • 127. " lanuginata, Abrah. = Doris lanuginata, Abrah.

  • 127. " wellingtonensis, Abrah. = Doris wellingtonensis, Abrah.

  • 128. " carinata, Q. and G. = Atagena carinata, Q. and G.

  • 128. Acanthodoris mollicella, Abrah. = A. mollicella, Abrah.

  • 128: " globosa, Abrah.

  • 129. Phidiana longicauda, Q. and G. = Facelina longicauda, Q. and G.

  • 130. Dentalium zealandicum, Sow. = Dentalium zelandicum, Sow.

  • 130. Dentalium pacificum, Hutt. = Dentalium zelandicum Sow.

  • 131. Hyalea affinis, d'Orb. = Carolinia tridentata, Forskål.

  • 132. Barnea similis, Gray = Barnea simihs, Gray.

  • 133. Pholadidea spathulata, Sow. = Pholadidea tridens, Gray.

  • 133. " tridens, Gray = Pholadidea tridens, Gray.

  • 133. Teredo antarctica, Hutt. = Nausitora antarctica, Hutt.

  • 134. Saxicava austrahs, Lam. = Saxicava arctica, L.

  • 134. Panopæa zealandica, Q. and G. = Panopea zelandica, Q. and G.

  • 134. Panopæa solandri, Gray = Panopea zelandica, Q. and G.

  • 135. Corbula zealandica, Q. and G. = Corbula zelandica, Q. and G.

  • 135. Corbula erythrodon, Lam: = Corbula erythrodon, Lam.

  • 135. " adusta, Hinds, not New Zealand.

  • 135. " haastiana, Hutt. = Corbula haastiana, Hutt.

  • 136. Anatina tasmanica, Reeve = Cochlodesma angasi, Crosse and Fischer.

  • 136. Lyomia vitrea, Hutt. = Thracia vitrea, Hutt.

  • 137. Neeæra trailli, Hutt. = Cuspidaria trailli, Hutt.

  • 137. Myodora striata, Q. and G. = Myodora striata, Q. and G.

  • 137. " plana, Reeve = Myodora brevis, Sow.

  • 137. " ovata, Reeve = Myodora subrostrata, Smith.

  • 137. " rotunda, Sow. = Myodora rotundata, Sow.

  • 138. Chamostræa albida, Lam. = Chamostrea albida, Lam.

  • 138. Mactra discors, Gray = Mactra discors, Gray.

  • 138. " murchisoni, Desh. = Mactra discors, Gray.

  • 138. " scalpellum, Desh. = Mactra scalpellum, Desh.

  • 139. " æquilateralis, Desh. = Mactra æquilateralis, Desh.

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  • 139. Mactra donaciformis, Gray, not New Zealand.

  • 139. Standella ovata. Gray = Standella ovata. Gray.

  • 139. Standella elongata, Q. and G. = Standella elongata, Q. and G.

  • 149. Standella notata, Hutt. = Standella elongata, Q. and G.

  • 140. Zenatia acinaces, Q. and G. = Zenatia acinaces, Q. and G.

  • 140. Zenatia deshayesi, Reeve = Zenatia acinaces, Q. and G.

  • 140. Vanganella taylori, Gray = Resania lanceolata, Gray.

  • 141. Raeta perspicua, Hutt. = Raeta perspicua, Hutt.

  • 141. Cæcella zelandica, Desh., not New Zealand.

  • 141. Psammobia stangeri, Gray = Psammobia stangeri, Gray.

  • 142. Psammobia lineolata, Gray = Psammobia lineolata, Gray.

  • 142. Psammobia zealandica, Desh. = Psammobia zealandica, Desh.

  • 142. Psammobia affinis, Reeve = Psammobia affinis, Reeve.

  • 142. Soletellina nitida, Gray = Solenotellina nitida, Gray.

  • 143. " siliqua, Reeve = Solenotellina siliqua, Reeve.

  • 143. " incerta, Reeve = Solenotellina incerta, Reeve.

  • 143. " nitens, Tryon = Solenotellina incerta, Reeve.

  • 143. Tellina alba, Q. and G. = Tellina alba, Q. and G.

  • 143. " deltoidalis, Lam. = Tellina lactea, Q. and G.

  • 143. " disculus, Desh. = Tellina disculus, Desh.

  • 144. " subovata, Sow. = Tellina strangei, Desh.

  • 144. " ticaonica, Desh. = Tellina ticaonica, Desh.

  • 144. " strangei, Desh. = Tellina strangei, Desh.

  • 144. " glabrella, Desh. = Tellina glabrella, Desh.

  • 145. " radiata, Desh. = Solenotellina radiata, Desh.

  • 145. Mesodesma novæ-zealandiæ, Chemn. = Mesodesma novæ-zealandiæ, Chemn.

  • 145. Mesodesma ovalis, Desh. = Mesodesma novæ-zealandiæ, Chemn.

  • 145. Mesodesma ventricosa, Gray = Mesodesma ventricosa, Gray.

  • 146. Mesodesma lata, Desh. = Mesodesma ventricosa, Gray.

  • 146. Mesodesma spissa, Reeve = Atactodea subtriangulata, Gray.

  • 147. Venus nodosa, Dkr., not New Zealand (West Africa).

  • 147. " oblonga, Hanley = Venus oblonga, Hanley.

  • 147. " crebra, Hutt. = Venus crebra, Hutt.

  • 147. Chione lamellata, Lam. = Venus lamellata, Lam.

  • 148. " yatei, Gray = Venus yatei, Gray.

  • 148. " stutchburyi, Gray = Venus stutchburyi, Gray.

  • 148. " costata, Q. and G. = Venus costata, Q. and G.

  • 148. " lima, Sow., not New Zealand.

  • 148. " mesodesma, Q. and G. = Venus crassa, Q. and G.

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  • 148. Chione gibbosa, Hutt., found fossil only.

  • 149. " paupercula, Chemn., not New Zealand (India).

  • 149. Callista multistriata, Sow. = Meretrix multistriata, Sow.

  • 149. " disrupta, Sow., not New Zealand (Australia).

  • 150. Artemis australis, Gray = Dosinia australis, Gray.

  • 150. " subrosea, Gray = Dosinia subrosea, Gray.

  • 150. " lambata, Gld. = Dosinia lambata, Gld.

  • 150. " carpenteri, Rôm. = Dosinia lambata, Gld.

  • 151. " grayi, Zittel = Dosinia grayi, Zittel.

  • 151. Tapes intermedia, Q. and G. = Tapes intermedia, Q. and G.

  • 151. Tapes fabagella, Desh., not New Zealand.

  • 151. Tapes galactites, Lam., not New Zealand.

  • 152. Venerupis reflexa, Gray = Venerupis reflexa, Gray.

  • 152. " paupercula, Desh. = Venerupis reflexa, Gray.

  • 152. " siliqua, Desh. = Venerupis siliqua, Desh.

  • 152. " elegans, Desh. = Venerupis elegans, Desh.

  • 153. Petricola serrata, Desh., not New Zealand.

  • 153. Cardium striatulum, Sow. = Cardium pulchellum, Gray.

  • 154. Sphærium novæ-zelandiæ, Desh. = Sph. novæ-zelandiæ, Desh.

  • 154. Sphærium lenticula, Dkr. = Sph. novæ-zelandiæ, Desh.

  • 155. Pisidium novæ-zealandiæ, Prime = P. novæ-zealandiæ, Prime.

  • 155. Lucina divaricata, Lam. = Divaricella cumingi, Ad. and Ang.

  • 155. Lucina lactea, A. Ad., not New Zealand (Australia).

  • 156. Diplodonta zealandica, Gray = Diplodonta zealandica, Gray.

  • 156. Diplodonta globularis, Lam. = Diplodonta globularis, Lam.

  • 156. Diplodonta striata, Hutt. = Diplodonta striata, Hutt.

  • 157. Kellia cycladiformis, Desh. = Kellya cycladiformis, Desh.

  • 157. Solemya parkinsoni, Smith = Solenomya parkinsoni, Smith.

  • 158. Crassatella obesa, Ad. = Crassatellites obesa, Ad.

  • 158. " bellula, Ad. = Crassatellites bellula, Ad.

  • 158. Cardita australis, Lam. = Venericardia australis, Lam.

  • 158. Cardita zealandica, P. and M. = Venericardia australis, Lam.

  • 158. Cardita Intea, Hutt. = Venericardia compressa, Reeve.

  • 158. " bimaculata, Desh., not New Zealand (Tasmania).

  • 158. " amabilis, Desh., not New Zealand(?).

  • 159. " difficilis, Desh. = Venericardia difficilis, Desh.

  • 159. " purpurata, Desh. = Venericardia australis, Lam.

  • 160. Mytilicardia excavata, Desh. = Cardita aviculina, Lam.

  • 160. Unio menziesii, Gray = Diplodon menziesii, Gray.

  • 161. " aucklandica, Gray = Diplodon menziesii, Gray.

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  • 161. Unio zelebori, Dkr. = Diplodon zelebori, Dkr.

  • 161. " hochstetteri, Dkr. = D. menziesii, var. hochstetteri, Dkr.

  • 161. " lutulentus, Gld. = Diplodon lutulentus, Gld.

  • 162. Barbatia decussata, Sow. = Area decussata, Sow.

  • 162. " pusilla, Sow. = Area reticulata, Chemn

  • 163. Pectuneulus laticostatus, Q. and G. = Glycymeris laticostata, Q. and G.

  • 163. Pectunculus flammeus, Reeve = Glycymeris laticostata, Q. and G.

  • 163. Pectunculus striatularis, Lam. = Glycymeris striatulare, Lam.

  • 164. Nucula nitidula, A. Ad. = Nucula nitidula, A. Ad.

  • 164. " strangei, A. Ad. = Nucula strangei, A. Ad.

  • 164. " sulcata, A. Ad. = Nucula lacunosa, Hutt.

  • 164. " castanea, A. Ad.., doubtful for New Zealand.

  • 164. " striolata, A. Ad., not New Zealand (China).

  • 165. " grayi, d'Orb., not New Zealand (South America).

  • 165. Leda concinna, A. Ad. = Leda concinna, A. Ad.

  • 165. " fastidiosa, A. Ad., doubtful for New Zealand.

  • 165. " micans A. Ad., doubtful for New Zealand.

  • 166. Solenella australis, Q. and G. = Malletia australis, Q. and G.

  • 166. Mytilus magellanicus, Lam. = Mytilus magellanicus, Lam,

  • 167. Mytilus polyodontes, Q. and G. = Mytilus magellanicus, Lam.

  • 167. Mytilus latus, Chemn. = Mytilus latus, Chemn.

  • 167. " edulis, L. = Mytilus edulis, L.

  • 167. " ater, Frfld. = Volsella ater, Frfld.

  • 168 Crenella impacta, Herm. = Crenella impacta, Herm.

  • 168. Modiola australis, Gray = Volsella australe, Gray.

  • 168. " areolata, Gld. = Volsella australe, Gray.

  • 168. " fluviatilis, Hutt. = Volsella fluviatilis, Hutt.

  • 168. Lithodomus truncatus, Gray = Lithophagus truncatus, Gray.

  • 169. Lithodomus gruneri, Reeve, not New Zealand (West Africa).

  • 169. Pinna zealandiæ, Gray = Pinna zealandiæ, Gray.

  • 169. Avicula glabra, Gld., not New Zealand.

  • 170. " fucata, Gld., not New Zealand.

  • 170. Pecten zealandiæ, Gray = Pecten zelandiæ, Gray.

  • 170. Pecten gemmulatus, Reeve = Pecten zelandiæ, var. gemmulata, Reeve.

  • 171. Pecten multicostatus, Reeve = Pecten zelandiæ, Reeve.

  • 171. " pica, Reeve, not New Zealand.

  • 171. " australis, Sow. = Pecten asperrimus, Lam.

  • 171. " radiatus, Hutt. = Pecten radiatus, Hutt.

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  • Page

  • 171. Pecten vellicatus, Hutt. = Pecten convexus, Q. and G.

  • 172. Vola laticostatus, Gray = Pecten laticostatus, Gray.

  • 172. Lima zealandica, Sow. = Lima zealandica, Sow.

  • 172. " angulata, Sow. = Lima angulata, Sow.

  • 172. " japonica, A. Ad. = Lima bullata, Born.

  • 173. Plicatula novæ-zealandiæ, Sow., not New Zealand.

  • 173. Anomia stowei, Hutt. = Anomia stowei, Hutt.

  • 173. " alectus, Gray = Anomia alectus, Gray.

  • 174. " cytæum, Gray = Anomia cytæum, Gray.

  • 174. Placunanomia zealandica, Gray = Placunanomia zelandica, Gray.

  • 174. Placunanomia ione, Gray = Placunanomia ione, Gray.

  • 175. Ostrea edulis, L. = Ostrea angasi, Sow.

  • 175. " discoidea, Gld., not New Zealand.

  • 175. " glomeraca, Gld. = Ostrea glomerata, Gld.

  • 175. " reniformis, Sow. = Ostrea reniformis, Sow.


  • 176. Waldheimia lenticularis, Desh. = Magellania lenticularis, Desh.

  • 176. Terebratella cruenta, Dillw. = Terebratella cruenta, Dillw.

  • 177. Terebratella rubicunda, Sol. = Terebratella rubicunda, Sol.

  • 177. Magas evansii, Davidson = young of Terebratella cruents.

  • 177. Waltonia valencienni, Davidson = young of Terebratella rubicunda.

  • 178. Bouchardia cumingi, Davidson, not New Zealand.

  • 178. Kraussia tamarckiana, Davidson, not New Zealand.

  • 178. Rhynchonella nigricans, Sow. = Hemithyris nigricans, Sow.

Art. XXIV.—Notice of an Electric Ray new to the Fauna of New Zealand, belonging to the Genus Astrape.

[Read before the Otago Institute, 12th November, 1901.]

Plates X.–XII.

During the cruise of the “Doto” in the southern coastal waters of New Zealand, in the early part of 1900, a specimen was caught in Foveaux Strait, in the seventy-sixth haul, in shallow water, of a cramp-fish or torpedo ray, which appears to be an addition to the list of our New Zealand fishes. I

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received the specimen from Mr. Ayson, who was in charge of the experimental trawling, on his return to Dunedin. The fish had been placed with other specimens in a jar of strong alcohol, and presented a very shrivelled appearance, the skin being very loose and full of creases and folds. The shape of the body, excluding the short tail, was nearly circular, being 8 in. in each diameter (Plate X.). The total length of the body, including the tail portion, was 10 ¾ in.

In November of the same year I obtained a fresh specimen of this curious fish from a fish-shop in Dunedin, which had been caught the previous night by the steam-trawler some distance outside of the Otago Heads. The general shape and appearance of this specimen was so unlike the other that I thought they must be different species, but on examination I find no material points of difference, except in the general outline, as shown in the plate. The outline figures there given are mechanically reduced from outlines made by passing a pencil round the edges of the fish while it rested on a piece of paper. I am therefore compelled to think that the first specimen must have been much altered in shape by the action of the spirit.

The proper shape of this interesting fish appears to be more of a long oval than a circle, the measurements being 7 in. in greatest diameter and 14½ in. in length.

The very minute, almost invisible, eyes, the single dorsal, and the position of the vent, place it in the genus Astrape of Muller and Henle. In the absence of further specimens (both those obtained being males), and not having the necessary literature, I cannot say that it is absolutely the same as Astrape capensis. I have therefore, as already intimated in my report of the 5th July, 1900, called the New Zealand specimens Astrape aysoni, after their first discoverer.

The British Museum catalogue records Astrape capensis from the Cape and from the coast of Madagascar, and an allied species is recorded from Japan, but I cannot get any description for comparison with the New Zealand specimen, nor any illustrations.

Family Narcobatidæ.

Genus Astrape, Mull, and Henle.

Astrape, Mull, and H.

Tail with a fold on each side. Body entirely naked; upper surface reddish-brown, lower surface white and yellowish-white. One dorsal fin only on the tail, without spine. Caudal well developed. Anterior nasal valves confluent into a broad flap overhanging the mouth. Teeth pointed; dental laminæ scarcely extending beyond the other margin

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of the jaws. Spiracles immediately behind the eyes, which are very minute, and hardly traceable under the skin. An electric apparatus between the head and pectoral fins.

Explanation of Plates X.—XII.

Plate X.

Astrape aysoni, n. sp.

Plate XI.

Astrape aysoni, head.

Plate XII.

Astrape aysoni, under-surface: fig. a from live specimen; fig. b from spirit specimen; fig. c, tail.

Art. XXV.—Embryology of New Zealand Lepidoptera: Part II.

[Read before the Philosophical Institute of Canterbury, 11th February, 1902.]

Plate XIII. (See also pl. ix., vol. xxxiii.)

Embryology in interest supersedes the pleasures of collecting and preserving specimens in the imago stage, and enhances the scientific value of the Lepidoptera in entomology. Breeding insects is a means towards an end—good specimens to the collector. On the other hand, the desire of the student is to know what can be learnt of structure, habits, and so forth. I know prominent embryologists in England who, after devoting great attention to breeding and hybridizing species, hand over the resulting imagines to some collector friends.

Probably most collectors would at once kill and set a female specimen of any scarce or rare species, if in perfect condition, but an embryological student would almost certainly try and procure ova. Such a case I well remember. A party of several entomologists were at the New Forest, England, and my friend Mr. Arthur Bacot took a freshly emerged female of a scarce species—Peridea trepida, I think—which he decided to keep until night and try to assemble some males. Any other of the party would have killed it at once, on the principle of “a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.” That evening, before sugar commenced, we hung her ladyship like a songster in a cage, from a branch of

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a tree. Later on she caused an assembly of the opposite sex of her species, and as they hurried up we could see their little eyes glow in the darkness quite a distance away. They would fly straight to the cage and crawl all over the gauze sides, and the light from our lantern did not scare them. As they flew up we netted them, until quite a number of males had been taken; and when the flight was over one was let in do the cage, when it immediately copulated and fertile ova resulted. The captured males were handed over to the other entomologists present.

For the purpose of embryology and of classification it is necessary to describe the pattern of the ovum, the structure of the larva and pupa. Although we may not know the why or the wherefore, there must be some functional, constitutional, or environmental reason for such structures. Without further preface I will now offer for your consideration such observations on some species of New Zealand Lepidoptera as my limited time has permitted.

A Contribution to the Life-history of Metacrias (Meyr.)
strategica (Hdsn.).

For my material I am indebted to Mr. George Howes, who recorded the occurrence of this species at Invercargill.* The apterous female of this and of the two congeneric, species raises the interesting problem of the cause of such a condition. The Arctid genus Ocnogyna, of Europe, has females with rudimentary wings, but I know of no others in the group. Laparidæ, which by derivation must have more or less remote affinities with Arctids, have some completely apterous females, some with rudimentary wings. Other groups of Lepidoptera not associated with these exhibit the same phenomena. Such must be considered specialised, and the apterous condition of the female is intimately associated with reproduction. Lessen productivity and the species is nearer extinction. Whether specialisation of the ovum and its chemical contents is the great factor in reduction of productivity can hardly be proved, but I am inclined to think it is so. The organism, after exclusion from the egg, builds up physiologically from matter assimilated as food; but before exclusion from the egg the organism is formed entirely from matter contained within the egg, derived wholly from the female parent (granted seminal stimulus of the male) by the primary unicellular germ using up surrounding cells in the ovary of the parent until the ovum developed. This, at least, is as I understand the process. The quantity of cellular matter absorbed per ovum would affect the quantity of ova resulting; specialisation

[Footnote] * Trans. N.Z. Inst., vol. xxxiii.

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no doubt would cause greater absorption, and consequent reduction, in number of ova. This might be partially counteracted by conversion of energy towards the formation of cellular matter in the ovary at the expense of imaginal structures, until, as in Metacrias, the female becomes a helpless ova-bag.

In his letters Mr. Howes tells me that a male M. strategica copulated with three separate females in the course of perhaps twenty-four hours. It is interesting to get authentic records of such. Many entomologists believe the males among Lepidoptera only pair once I have no doubt male M. strategica would assemble to a virgin female if exposed at the proper time of flight and in a suitable locality.


Deposited, 4th November, 1900; hatched, 27th November, 1900–23 days. Spherical in shape; pale honey-colour; eggshell apparently exceedingly thin, with irregular hexagons over its surface, more distinct than on Nyctemera annulata. It may here be noted that I have examined batches of N. annulata ova which were quite smooth, others having a faint hexagonal pattern. Mr. Howes mentions that the young newly hatched larvæ eat the eggshell. This is done by N. annulata.*

Larva. (Plate XIII., fig. 8; vol. xxxiii., pl. ix., fig. 18.)

[The section below cannot be correctly rendered as it contains complex formatting. See the image of the page for a more accurate rendering.]

Newly hatched.—Robust; all the segments approximately uniform except head, prothorax, and the two posterior abdominal segments, which are smaller than the others. Tubercles are crowded together and give the larva a rather dark colour, though the skin is yellowish-brown. The head, scutellum, dorsal anal shield, and tubercles are brown; the setæ are black. The setæ are spinulose, and the skin is covered with minute (secondary) hairs. At first the head appears to be larger than prothorax, but, enclosed in its chitinous envelope, it does not grow, and prior to ecdysis the prothorax is larger than the head. The dorsal and lateral multisetiferous tubercles are at first prominent elevations on all the segments, but when the skin is fully distended prior to ecdysis the dorsal tubercles of 9th abdominal segment only appear to be specially prominent. When full fed in first skin the length is 3/16 in., and there is a slight reddish mottling on the skin.

Head: The ocelli are crescentic; the numerous hairs are spinulose.

Prothorax: Dorsal shield has on each side of the median

[Footnote] * Entom., vol. xxxiv., p. 141.

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line three anterior marginal setæ and two posterior setæ. Supraspiracular and prespiracular tubercles each have three setæ. The spiracle is circular in shape, and posterior. A tubercle above the legs has two setæ.

Meso- and post-thoracic segments: Trapezoidal tubercles appear to be coalesced, forming large dorsal tubercles with about six setæ. Supraspiracular has about eight setæ, slightly below which a small posterior (subspiracular) tubercle has a single very fine seta; a larger anterior subspiracular tubercle has a single seta. Tubercles above the legs have two setæ.

The thoracic legs have spinulose hairs, and terminate with a long claw, a rudimentary claw, and a flattened seta, to which Dr. Chapman gives the name “battledore palpus” in describing Arctia caia.*

Abdominal segments (vol. xxxiii., pl. ix., fig. 18): Anterior trapezoidal tubercle has three setæ, posterior, trapezoidal one seta. Supraspiracular tubercle is anterior above the small circular spiracle, and has about seven setæ. One subspiracular tubercle is below the spiracle, but posterior to it, with one seta, and almost beneath this, but a little anterior, is another, with a single seta, and still lower a tubercle-like area without seta. On the base of abdominal feet are one spinulose seta, one smooth seta; on the footless segments 1 and 2 these rise from a subventral tubercle and are both spinulose; the subventral tubercle of segments 7 and 8 have only one seta (spinulose). Segment 9 has a very large dorsal multi-setiferous tubercle, one lateral, one subventral, each with only one seta. Segment 10 has a dorsal multisetiferous tubercle, a lateral spinulose seta, and some setæ on claspers; also on each side of the anal orifice a single smooth seta curved upwards. On all the segments one sefa of each supraspiracular tubercle is about twice the length of any other. Mr. Howes mentions the presence of several long grey hairs from the anal extremity. This is a very striking feature, and persists, I believe, until the larva is full fed. These hairs are actually the post-trapezoidal setæ of abdominal segments 7 and 8, which are about four or five times the normal length, are spinulose throughout, and greyish beyond.

[The section below cannot be correctly rendered as it contains complex formatting. See the image of the page for a more accurate rendering.]

Second Skin.—Length immediately after ecdysis 3/16 in. The tubercles, being more setiferous, are larger, and form very prominent elevations on all segments. The skin is yellowish-brown, the setæ brown and spinulose

Head has spinulose setæ, but not noticeably more numerous than in first stage.

[Footnote] * Ento. Record, vol. 4, p. 267.

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Prothorax: Dorsal tubercle very prominent, having about a dozen anterior and two posterior setæ on each side. Supra-spiracular tubercle about three setæ, prespiracular about ten setæ; spiracle posterior; tubercle above leg has about ten setæ.

Meso- and post-thorax: The dorsal tubercles (medio) appear to be coalesced, and are exceedingly setiferous. A subdorsal and two other tubercles are one below another, with about ten to fourteen setæ each; a smaller tubercle, slightly anterior, above the legs bears three or four setæ. Above the subdorsal tubercle is a small posterior tubercle with one seta.

The thoracic legs terminate as in the preceding stage.

Abdominal segments: Anterior trapezoidal about a quarter the size of posterior, and bears three setæ; post trapezoidal bear ten setæ. Supraspiracular is midlateral, bearing about fourteen setæ. The spiracle is immediately anterior to the uppermost seta of the post subspiracular tubercle, which bears about ten setæ. Immediately below this the other subspiracular hears the same number of setæ, and below this a small tubercle bears three setæ. The abdominal feet bear several single setæ.

The numerous setæ render it extremely difficult to make a description which is absolutely accurate. The larva lived until about three-quarter grown, and I did not observe any further structural difference. The setæ throughout were brown, but the subspiracular setæ were lighter brown than the dorsal setæ. Mr. Howes states that the larva, when full fed, is 1 ¼ length.

Pupa. (Plate XIII., figs. 9, 10.)

The pupa is enclosed in an oval cocoon of coarse silk threads interwoven with larval setæ. The cocoon is rather dark-brown in colour, and the enclosed pupa can be seen through it.

[The section below cannot be correctly rendered as it contains complex formatting. See the image of the page for a more accurate rendering.]

Male pupa: Length, about 5/3 in.; at widest, ¼ in. Colour very dark-brown, with paler incisions. Wing-cases extend to the middle of 4th abdominal segment ventrally. Abdominal segments 5 and 6 are free; 7, 8, 9, 10 are consolidated and lessen rapidly, forming a rounded extremity with a rather sharp terminal process. The anal armature consists of about twelve stout bristles, with innumerable sharp points at their clubbed end (fig. 10). The anal armature of Nyctemera annulata (fig. 11) consists of numerous hooks, not straight bristles, and under a high power these are seen to be ball-tipped, resembling closely the anal armature of some Noctuæ (fig. 7, Melanchra mutans). In the position of larval tubercles numerous rudimentary setæ, pale yellowish-brown in

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colour, resemble the longitudinal yellow spots on the pupa of Nyctemera annulata. On dehiscence the wing-cases separate from the ventral juncture and along the sides of the abdominal segments to the suture with thoracic segments, which separate mid-dorsally, and remain attached to either wing-case. The face, antennæ, and leg-cases remain welded together, but separate from the wing-cases almost to the juncture of the 5th abdominal segment.

[The section below cannot be correctly rendered as it contains complex formatting. See the image of the page for a more accurate rendering.]

Female pupa about the same length as male, but extremely robust in comparison. It tapers sharply from the 3rd abdominal segment to head, dorsally and laterally; 4, 5, 6 appear to be wholly free segments, and are the widest—fully 5/16 in.; 7, 8, 9, 10 are consolidated and form on extremity, with armature similar to the male. Small wing-cases extend to the posterior edge of 3rd abdominal segment, and abdominal rudimentary setæ correspond to the male. The head also is covered with numerous similar setæ.

Duration of pupal existence, about twenty days.

[Since my paper was written I received from Mr. George Howes several larvæ of Metacrias strategica, which, after very little feeding, pupated in the usual cocoons amongst moss or grass, and subsequently produced several male and female imagines. I may say, so far as colouration or size is concerned, there appeared to be no difference between the several larvæ such as might be interpreted as an indication of sex. Owing to the fact that the female did not leave its cocoon, I was unaware of it for at least several days, when it appeared to me to be dead, but had already deposited several ova—pale-yellow colour, with distinct hexagonal sculpture. On emergence the female entirely ruptured the pupa-case at every suture, and only remnants remained intact. The female certainly deposits its ova in a normal and proper manner amongst the wool which lines the cocoon. This wool (hair-like scales) acts as an envelope, possibly incubator, for the ova, in the manner observed amongst Psychidæ.* M. strategical however, has wool all over its body; but at the time of my examination this had been almost entirely rubbed off, except from the two or three posterior segments. Probably when the burden of ova has been disposed of the empty female M. strategica crawls out of the cocoon, as is the case with Psychidæ. In my previous remarks I was under the impression that the female M. strategica was entirely apterous. This is not strictly so, as there are rudiments of both fore and hind wings, though so small as to be entirely functionless. The several organs of the caput are better developed than are those of the female (Oeketicus omnivorus, which latter, has,

[Footnote] * Dr. Chapman, Trans. Ent. Soc., Lond., 1900, 403.

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however, a greater capacity for the production of ova as regards quantity. With regard to assembling males of M. strategica, I have received a note to the effect that Mr. Philpott, of Invercargill, was successful in taking a large number by exhibiting virgin females. No doubt similar results would be obtained with other species of this genus.]

A Contribution to the Life-history of Melanchra (Hb.)
mutans (Walk.).
Ovum. (Plate XIII., figs. 1, 2, 3, 4.)

A batch of ova was found on the 14th April, 1901, which hatched on the 19th April, 1901. The parent female had pushed them between a blade and stem of withered grass, where they were effectually hidden. The ova were laid in two parallel rows of six each, three others separate, and two rows of three each were laid on top of the first; total number, twenty-one.

Ova: Dull to the naked eye, shining under the microscope Colour, pale-whitish, upper half irregularly coloured a dirty brown. Shape, a flattened sphere—i.e., wider at equator than in vertical section. Micropyle at top with irregular hexagons, from which strong corrugations diverge towards the equator, converging below. About one in three of the corrugations coalesce with another at the shoulder of the egg, and there is irregularity in this respect: in more than one instance three corrugations coalesce. About twenty-one corrugations meet the micropylar depression. Between the corrugations equidistant finer lines apparently form four-sided figures, but, examined with a higher power, it is found they are really modified hexagons, with strong longitudinal sides. The evolution of parallel ribs on specialised ova from more primitive hexagonal forms is here clearly evidenced.

The contents of a female abdomen were microscopically examined. Within the abdomen the ova are pale-green in colour, placed end on end, pressed flat against each other, so forming continuous rouleaux of ova, from which each ovum is easily separable. This fact is due to the absence of connecting-tissue such as envelopes the ova of Hepiah within the abdomen.

The exact process is, necessarily, not easy to detect, but I was fully satisfied that the rouleaux of ova are bathed lengthwise by a fluid (fat?). So long as this continues the ova are smooth, but as activity decreases and the quantity of fluid diminishes on exposure to the air sculpturing appears on the eggshell. When quite dry the ova have the orthodox sculpture of deposited ova.

That the sculpture is due to the fluid is nearly certain—

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i.e., in the process of drying it forms into natural crystalline shapes. of course, this crystalline formation would occur so rapidly on deposition of the ova that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to detect. It is probable, however, that the bathing of the ova continues until the ovum is excluded from the oviduct.

At the top of the egg-mass, where the incision would be first made, a few ova remained smooth when dry. This detracts nothing from the foregoing, as I conclude that these, being earliest exposed to air, were insufficiently bathed by the necessary sculpture-producing fluid.

The results of this examination justify the conclusions suggested by the experiments of Messrs. Woodhead and Dawson, to which I refer in Part I. of this paper.

Larva. (Plate XIII., figs. 5, 6.)

The first meal consists of the empty eggshell, and, though frequently disturbed so that the larvæ moved away or dropped by a thread, they invariably returned and recommenced feeding on the eggshells.

Newly hatched.—Robust, slightly tapering towards posterior; head large and long, tubercles prominent, setæ long and widened at tip. The first two pairs of abdominal feet are small, that of segment 3 being little more than large tubercles provided with hooks. Neither pair of segments 3 and 4 seems to be used, so the larva in walking progresses in semi-looper manner (fig. 5). Colour, reddish. Skin smooth.

Head: Setæ pointed, mandibles serrate.

Prothorax: Scutellum bears on each side two separate anterior and two posterior setæ. Supraspiracular tubercle bears two setæ; prespiracular two setæ (?); tubercle above legs two setæ. Meso- and post - thorax, three single-seta tubercles, one below the other; one anterior and one posterior lower each with one seta.

Abdominal segments: All the tubercles bear a single seta. Trapezoidals normal. Supraspiracular beneath the anterior trapezoidal and above the round spiracle, immediately posterior to which is one subspiracular tubercle, and below the spiracle is the other. The abdominal feet bear two single-pointed setæ, which are subventral on segments 1 and 2. On segments 7, 8, and 9 there seems to be only one subventral seta each; segment 10 has all pointed setæ. Two subdorsal posterior, curved downward, two posterior, curved upward, and two on each of the claspers.

On the 1st May some of the larvæ had changed to second and some to third skins.

Second Skin.—Colour, pale-green, head pale - brown;

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tubercles, setæ, and spiracles brown; faint pale spiracular line, the skin above being really darker than below. Anterior segments darker than posterior.

Structure: Prothorax (fig. 6) apparently as in first stage. Meso- and post-thorax have an additional tubercle. Careful comparison of first and second stages induces me to think this is not the one immediately above the leg, but the posterior tubercle above it in position. Abdominal segments also have an additional tubercle above the legs in a posterior position. The posterior subspiracular tubercle appears to be rather lower down in relation to the spiracle than in the first stage. The abdominal feet bear three pointed setæ; the first two pairs are larger than in first stage.

In succeeding changes of skin the abdominal feet gradually become normal. This, I think, takes place not earlier than the fourth skin, but I have no note on this point. Adult markings are also gradually assumed. In that skin preceding the last, two larvæ confined in the same pot of grass assumed entirely different plumage as regards colour, one being wholly green, the other brown (this was probably green, more or less, ventrally, but I omitted to note). This striking difference is not unusual amongst Noctuæ larvæ, and appears to be attributable to environmental causes. One at least frequently rested during the day-time on the reddish earthenware pot. In a state of nature they rest on the earth, or on a stem of food near the earth. The exciting cause of the variation may be considered to depend on whether the larva rests habitually on the earth or on the stem. In the former case we might expect them to assume a brown colouration, in the latter green, each being to respective individuals equally protective during the period of rest from feeding.

Immediately preceding pupation the length is about 1 in.; colour above spiracular line reddish-brown, below pale-green (the larva mentioned above lost its green colour at last ecdysis). A rather indistinct medio-dorsal line is marked more distinctly at the incisions as a brown spot. Thin dark sub-dorsal line is edged with lighter, and very distinct dark spiracular spots on all the segments. In preceding stage these were oblique dashes. The clypeus of head is dark-brown, middle of lobes a dark streak, edges dark-brown. Under the microscope the larva-skin is mottled, and the pattern of markings not apparent. No doubt the larva is more inconspicuous to small foes than to our eyes, which take the whole form and markings at one comprehensive glance. Even so, to us the larva seems wonderfully protected by its colouration when at rest.

I omitted to note the exact duration of larval existence.

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Pupa. (Plate XIII., fig. 7.)

[The section below cannot be correctly rendered as it contains complex formatting. See the image of the page for a more accurate rendering.]

Colour, reddish - brown; length, 9/16 in.; widest at 4th abdominal segment. Wing-cases extend to posterior ridge of 4th abdominal ventrally; hind-wing margins show laterally from post-thorax to anterior edge of 4th abdominal. On dehiscence the headpiece, leg-covers, antennæ, and proboscis-covers remain intact, but separate throughout their length from the wing-cases. Spiracles are transverse and fully developed on 2nd to 8th abdominal segments; on 2nd and 3rd the position is subdorsal, on others normal. Posterior edges of 4th, 5th, and 6th abdominal segments form prominent ridges; the other segments are smooth and taper gradually to the 10th viewed laterally and dorsally, but ventrally the 10th is depressed suddenly from the suture to anal armature.

The anal armature is more especially a dorsal apparatus, though the two strong hooks are terminal processes. On the dorsum there are two pairs of weaker hooks. Somewhere I believe I have seen a statement of Dr. Chapman in which he says that the more he studied the structure of the pupal anal armature the less value it seemed to be. With this species and M. composita (vol. xxxiii., pl. ix., fig. 21) there is decided affinity in the anal armature, which in both consists of six hooks, yet there is abundant specific distinction.

The moths emerged about the 10th September, 1901.

A Contribution to the Life-history of Asaphodes (Meyr.)
megaspilata (Walk.).
Ovum. (Vol. xxxiii, pl. ix., fig. 4.)

Colour, pale-green when laid, partly reddish to the naked eye, but salmon-colour under microscope in two days. Shape is longer then broad, small end rounded, broad end rather fiat, transverse section almost circular. The whole shell is covered with hexagonal cells. The ovum is laid on its side. The larva emerges at the broader end.

Deposited on the 2nd December, 1900; hatched on the 16th December, 1900—fourteen days.

The young larvæ do not eat the empty eggshell.

Larva. (Vol. xxxiii., pl. ix., figs. 5, 6, 7, 8.)

Newly hatched.—Colour, pale yellowish - brown. The thoracic segments have thin red longitudinal lines; the incisions between abdominal segments 1 to 7 are ringed with red all round. The abdominal segments also have yellow spiracular and subspiracular lines running through the red rings.

The larva is robust, with uniform segments, but 7, 8, 9, and 10 are very crowded. The thoracic segments have legs;

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the abdominal feet are midway between the 6th and 7th segments, and 10 has claspers.

The arrangement of the thoracic segments is not quite clear, but appears to agree with the structure in the second skin. The head has pointed hairs.

The abdominal tubercles have single setæ, which are club-tipped. Owing to the robust build of the segments the tubercles are very wide apart. The trapezoidals are normal. Supraspiracular and anterior subspiracular are both anterior to the spiracle and equidistant; post-spiracular moved up close to the spiracle. There are anterior and posterior sub-ventral tubercles. The setæ on the abdominal feet are pointed. The larva-skin appears to be covered with very fine hairs.

Second Skin.—Larva attenuated, tubercles still widely separated. Head yellowish, spotted with red. From prothorax to anal segment yellow and red lines alternate longitudinally.

Head: Anterior hairs are pointed, posterior clubbed.

Prothorax: On each side of the thin median line of scutellum there are two anterior, two posterior, equidistant setæ. The prespiracular tubercle has a single seta. Above the spiracle, close to the scutellum, a very fine seta. The spiracle is posterior. Prespiracular tubercle has a single seta. Tubercle above the legs has two separate setæ.

Meso- and post-thorax: Close to the median line a minute normal tubercle bears a single seta, below this a larger tubercle and another (subdorsal); anterior, and posterior tubercles are equidistant from the subdorsals beneath; the tubercle above legs bears one seta. All the tubercles bear only a single seta.

Abdominal segments have an additional tubercle below the spiracle. The spiracle is level with the posterior subspiracular tubercle. On the abdominal feet there are seven single setæ, and numerous setæ on claspers. Abdominal 9 has all the tubercles on the posterior edge; 10 has, above the anal orifice, two normal setæ, two pointed setæ on each side.

[The section below cannot be correctly rendered as it contains complex formatting. See the image of the page for a more accurate rendering.]

Full fed (30th January, 1901).—Length, 9/16 in., wider at 5th abdominal, from which it tapers to head and to anus.

Colour: Brown, with mediodorsal pale line on the thoracic segments, represented on abdominals 1 to 5 by an inverted V—apex anterior, and line resumed but wider on the posterior subsegments of 6 to 9. The posterior trapezoidal setæ of 6th and 7th abdominals are on elevated humps; segment 8 has pale-coloured humps; 9 also has pale humps, but with a larger hump between them.

Laterally there is no definite marking, the whole skin being finely mottled brown and whitish. The setæ are all very

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dark—black(?). The tubercle arrangement appears to exactly correspond with second skin.

In an earlier stage there is a lateral subspiracular and spiracular line in addition to the dorsal markings. The skin also has numerous white dots.

A slight cocoon is made on the top of earth.

On the 6th February, 1901, all had pupated.

Pupa. (Vol. xxxiii., pl. ix., fig. 22.)

Colour: Reddish; antennæ, leg-covers, &c., pale-brown, eye-covers dark-brown, wing-covers brown.

[The section below cannot be correctly rendered as it contains complex formatting. See the image of the page for a more accurate rendering.]

Length, 5/16 in. From tip of head to tip of wing-cases is fully two-thirds total length of pupa, the posterior third constituting abdominal segments 5 to 10. Pupa is thickest; at 1st, 2nd, and 3rd abdominals, and there is sharp irregular tapering from 7 to 10; 9 appears as a large swollen area overlying 10, which fits into it as if it were a cap, and terminates with two lateral, two central, hooks, with which a very firm hold is taken of the silk in the cocoon.

The eye-covers are large and prominent; antennæ extend to tips of wing-cases, enclosing legs and proboscis, which also extends to the tips of wing-cases.

Only the slightest portion of the base of hind-wing cases can be seen at the juncture with post-thorax. Spiracles on 1, 2, and 3 are subdorsal, 4 to 8 lateral. All the segments except 8 to 10 are deeply pitted.

Imagines emerged as follows: On the 25th February, a male; on the 26th February, a male and a female; on the 28th February, a male; on the 2nd March, a male; and on the 4th March, a female.

It is not my intention to discuss imaginal structures; indeed, this would not be in keeping with the title of my paper. What I have to say is rather in the nature of inquiry.

The larval antenna consists of a base, one or two joints, and appendages of a fleshy nature (Plate XIII., fig. 12). The imaginal antenna consists of scape (base), pedicel (2nd segment), and clavola (segments beyond). The scape is the muscular base and the pedicel is the nervous base, these being more or less simple in external structure (fig. 13). The clavola segments of A. megaspilata, male, have paired appendages attached to the shaft ventrally, and on this surface the segments are devoid of scales; dorsally the shaft is thickly protected with scales (figs. 14 and 15). The pectinations have no scales, but numerous fine hairs. The clavola segments act as sense-conductors.

The functions of the larval and imaginal antennæ are no doubt similar, and the homology of their respective parts should prove an interesting study. That such is possible is

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suggested by the experiments of Dr. Chapman* on regeneration of the thoracic legs of Liparis dispar, which prove the homology of the larval and imaginal legs.

The marginal wing-bristles admit of further study (fig. 16). My note on those of Melanippe fluctuata was, I understand, the first publication in England in reference to these. Dr. Chapman has dealt with the same, but I have not yet seen his paper on the subject. Messrs. Furbush and Fernald had previously published observations on these structures in America. They are to be observed at the termination of the nervures, but are not of the nervures, since they occur at the wing-margin between the nervures. Professor Fernald believes they are found on the wings of all Lepidoptera. The function of the marginal wing-bristle is unknown.

Explanation of Plate XIII.

Fig. 1. Melanchra mutans, micropylar area of ovum; x 200.

Fig. 2. " longitudinal ribs of ovum; x 200.

Fig. 3. " ovum; x 50.

Fig. 4. " ova from female abdomen; x 50.

Fig. 5. " larva, first skin, showing the imperfect development of abdominal feet.

Fig. 6. " larva, second skin, thoracic segments; x 200.

Fig. 7. " pupa, terminal armature; x 50.

Fig. 8. Metacrias strategica, larva, first skin, thoracic segments; x 200.

Fig. 9. " pupa, segments 5 to 10; x 50.

Fig. 10. " pupa, anal bristle; x 200.

Fig. 11. Nyctemera annulata, pupa, anal bristle; x 200.

Fig. 12. Asaphodes megaspilata, antenna of larva.

Fig. 13. " antenna of imago, scape, pedicel, first clavola segments; x 200.

Fig. 14. " antenna of imago, terminal clavola segments; x 200.

Fig. 15. " intermediate clavola segments; x 200.

Fig. 16. " marginal wing-bristles; x 200.

[Footnote] * Entom. Record, vol. xii., 141.

[Footnote] † Entom., vol. xxxiv., 47.

[Footnote] ‡ “Some Wing-structures,” Trans. South London Nat. Hist. Society, 1900.

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Art. XXVI.—Notes on New Zealand Fishes.

[Read before the Wellington Philosophical Society, 11th February, 1902.]

Plates XIV. and XV.

1. Chimæra monstrosa, var. australis.

This remarkable fish is related to the sharks and the rays or skates, but is quite distinct from either of these groups. Only two generic forms are known—(1) Chimæra, which abounds in the Arctic seas; and (2) Callorhynchus, which, so far as known, is confined to the Antarctic seas.

In the northern seas this fish is known as the “king of the herrings,” also as the “rabbit-fish.” Its southern representative is popularly known as the “elephant-fish,” on account of the proboscis-like appendage to its upper jaw. A few specimens of the northern genus Chimæra have been found off the Cape of Good Hope and off the coast of Chile, but so far as I know this is the first New Zealand example of the genus which has been found. It was obtained by the trawl on the Wairau bar, and presented to the Museum by Mr. Fernandos, of this city. The specimen is a female, both oviducts containing eggs in various stages of development. It is somewhat curious that the first specimen obtained in New Zealand should be a female, as the male fish is far more abundantly caught in the Northern Hemisphere than the female. In the case of the southern representative, or the elephant-fish, on the other hand, most of the specimens caught are females, and they are quite common at certain seasons. However, a few days after I obtained the female of the Chimæra a male elephant-fish was brought to the Museum, being the first of the sex I had ever seen. It has wonderful grippers armed with strong teeth on the forehead, and on each side of the body near the ventral fin, and has two extra lateral ventral fins involuted so as to form intromittent organs.

The following are the measurements of the female specimen of Chimæra monstrosa, var. australis:—

Total length 36
Greatest height 4
Snout to eye 2.5
Orbit 1.5
Snout to dorsal spine 6
Height of spine 3
Base of 1st dorsal 3.5
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1st to 2nd dorsal, subcontinuous 3
Base of 2nd dorsal 16
Snout to mouth 2.5
Snout to pectoral 5
Base of pectoral 2
Branchial collar to vent 5.5
Snout to ventral fins 16
Pectoral fin, length 8
" width 4
" width at base of rays 2.5
Ventral fin, length 6
" width at base 2
Caudal fin 5
Filiform appendage 7

There are two genital orifices, one on each side and anterior to the vent, each with a distinct ovarian sac containing twelve to fifteen eggs in various stages of development, varying in size from a small pea to a nut. Each egg is enclosed in an elongated ovid membrane, the largest being on the right side 1.5 in. long.

Colour.—Olive-black above, silvery-white beneath the head, and dark-grey elsewhere. Head with small ocellated spots, and round the base of the dorsal five distinct white spots. As far back as the vent three rows of nine spots in each, and one broad but interrupted line of white. A pseudo-lateral line of forty-three pores marked by golden scales, which latter are also found on other parts. On the tail are thirteen bold white blotches, in continuation of the white lateral line on the body.

2. Auchenopterus aysoni, n. sp.

This elegant little fish is one of the blennies, a family fairly well represented in New Zealand waters, Crysticeps australis and Trypterygium nigripenne being close allies. Only one species of the genus is previously known, from the west coast of South America, but it differs in important respects from the specimen under consideration, which was presented to the Museum by Mr. Ayson, Inspector of Fisheries. Unfortunately, the spirit in which it was sent was too strong, so that the scales and many of the lateral pores were destroyed.

The following is a minute description of the fish:—

Total length, 5 in. 143
Height 30
Length of head 35
Base of 1st dorsal 12
Snout to 1st dorsal 10
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Space of notch in dorsal 8
Continuous dorsal 80
To caudal 15
Extension of caudal rays 21
Snout to pectoral 23
" ventral 21
" vent 48
Length of pectoral 27
" ventral 20
Snout to eye 9
Diameter of eye 4

Fin Formula.—B., 4; D., 3–33; P., 8; V., 3 (but broken and indistinct); A., 10; LL., 22–3–5, interrupted.

Scales very minute.

Body compressed. Height one-quarter of length and one-sixth less than length of head.

Pair of branched tentacles from above the snout, not from the nostril.

Colour uniform light-brown, with four oval translucent spots on the dorsal fin.

Teeth minute on jaws and vorner.

Gill-opening wide.

Tail slightly unsymmetrical, and caudal distinctly separate from both dorsal and anal.

Loc. Bay of Islands; collected by Mr. Stephenson.

Explanation of Plates XIV., XV.

Plate XIV.
  • A. Female of Callorhynchus antarcticus.

  • B. Male of Callorhynchus antarcticus.

  • C. Female of Chimæra colliei.

  • D. Male of Chimæra colliei, L. (after Günther).

Plate XV.
Auchenopterus aysoni.

Art. XXVII.—On a New Polynoid.

[Read before the Otago Institute, 8th October, 1901.]

Polynoe comma, n. sp.

Body slender, long, linear, tapering slightly at the hinder end. Average length 50 mm., and breadth 6 mm. (spirit specimens).

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Segments, 70–90; elytra, 35–45 pairs, borne on segments 2, 4, 5, 7, 9 and all subsequent odd segments.

Anus dorsal.

Prostomium embedded in the peristomium, urn-shaped, broadest between the eyes, slightly longer than broad, produced anteriorly into the bases of the lateral tentacles, between which the base of the median tentacle is wedged.

Eyes, two pairs, quite sessile and quite lateral, situated nearly at the point of greatest diameter. Median tentacle longer than the lateral ones, and longer than the prostomium. Palps about three times as long as the prostomium, stout at the base and tapering continuously to the tips, studded all over with minute spines.

Parapodia stout, conical, almost uniramous; dorsal chætæ few and extremely small, accompanied by a stout aciculum, tapering, serrated on each side, and ending in a fine needle-like tip. Ventral chætæ also few, but longer, fairly stout, and slightly hooked at the tip, which is blunt; provided with two asymmetrical spines on the dorsal surface, followed by two rows of four or five “combs” on each side.

Nephridial papillæ distinct, cylindrical, slightly fluted, beginning at the 10th or 11th segment and continuing to the penultimate segment; rendered conspicuous by segmental pigment patches near their bases.

Elytra subcircular; margin entire; surface smooth, except for a very few small tubercles on the first two or three pairs; pigment in the shape of a broad dark comma on the mediad moiety of the elytron. The first four or five pairs have a patch of russet-brown pigment on the convex shoulder of the comma-shaped mark; the first elytron is colourless but for this russet patch. The elytra of a side do not overlap in the hinder region of the body, but anteriorly they do. Only the first three or four pairs meet across the back. The rest of the back, being uncovered, exhibits dorsal bars of pigment at the back of each segment, which, well marked in front, vanish in the posterior region.

The ventral surface has a median and two lateral bands of dark pigment.

The worm was collected at Moeraki by Dr. Benham, of the Otago Museum, and all the specimens were found to be commensal with a Terebellid.


Art. XXVIII.—A Short Account of the Plant-covering of Chatham Island.

[Read before the Philosophical Institute of Canterbury, 6th November, 1901.]

Plates XVI-XIX.

The group of islands and rocks known collectively as the “Chatham Islands” lies isolated in the South Pacific Ocean, at a distance of about four hundred and fifty miles east-south-east from the nearest point in New Zealand. It lies between the parallels 43° 30′ and 44° 30′ south latitude, and the meridians 175° 40′ and 177° 15′ west longitude. The largest member of the group—Chatham Island—is about thirty miles in length, and contains 222,490 acres. Pitt Island is next in size, with a length of barely eight miles and a half, and an area of about 15,000 acres. The only other islands sufficiently large to contain flowering-plants to any extent are Mangere and South-east Island, each of which is about a mile and a half in length. Pitt Island lies to the south of Chatham Island, from which it is separated by a narrow passage of water, about fourteen miles in width, called Pitt Strait. Mangere lies to the west and South-east Island to the south-east of Pitt Island, from which the former is distant a mile and a half and the latter a mile and a quarter.

The botanical history of the Chathams dates from the year 1840, when Dr. Dieffenbach visited the islands on behalf of the New Zealand Company, and made at the same time a small collection of the plants. These are recorded in the “Flora Novæ-Zelandiæ,” and comprise only some twelve species of phanerogams and vascular cryptogams. For a space of eighteen years after Dr. Dieffenbach's visit nothing more was done botanically, when, a direct trade being established between Melbourne and the islands, a few plants were from time to time brought to Baron F. von Mueller, including the remarkable Myosotidium nobile (45, p. 2); but it was not until the year 1863 that the first real botanical exploration of the

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islands was undertaken, when Mr. W. T. L. Travers, who previously had done so much to advance the knowledge of New Zealand botany, sent his son, Mr. H. H. Travers, to Chatham and Pitt Islands to make as complete a collection of the indigenous plants as possible. The expedition resulted in a very interesting collection of plants, from which Baron F. von Mueller compiled his well-known work “The Vegetation of the Chatham Islands.” This was published in 1864, and contains descriptions or notes of 129 species of phanerogams and twenty-five species of ferns and lycopods, of which seven were species new to science. Had the distinguished author of the work not been a most staunch believer in the fixity of species (45, pp. 7 and 8), the number of species recorded would have been considerably larger, in proof of which statement it is only necessary to note his treatment of Veronica, Calystegia, Epilobium, and certain other genera.

In 1867 a paper appeared (24), written by Mr. Halse, which gives a most excellent idea of the general aspect of certain parts of the main island. Much more important, however, is the account of his journey in 1863 by Mr. H. H. Travers, published in the first volume of the “Transactions of the New Zealand Institute” in 1869 (51). In 1871 Mr. Travers paid a second visit to the islands, and his new collection added very considerably to the known number of their plants. Baron F. von Mueller contributed a short note on this collection to the “Transactions of the New Zealand Institute” (46), giving a list of certain genera* not collected during Mr. Travers's former visit.

In 1874 Mr. John Buchanan published a revised list of the flowering-plants and ferns of the Chatham Islands, based on the two collections of Travers (3), bringing the genera up to 129 and the species to 205, describing three new species and recording the occurrence of that very interesting restiaceous plant Sporadanthus traversii, now referred to the genus Lepyrodia (32, p. 969). Mr. Buchanan's list seemed at the time it was published to quite exhaust the possibilities of the Chathams as a field for new species, and so for many years Chatham Island botany appeared to be at a standstill. But during part of that time a most enthusiastic naturalist, Mr. F. A. D. Cox, who resides in Chatham Island, was collecting and studying its plants during his few intervals of leisure, so when the late Mr. T. Kirk sought aid with regard to Chatham Island plants, during the compilation of the “Students’ Flora of New Zealand,” Mr. Cox was very able and very willing to supply him with material, and, better still, with information

[Footnote] * In this list Myosotis is noted, so I was mistaken in writing of it as an unrecorded genus for the Chathams (11).

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gathered at first hand from the plants themselves. In consequence of this valuable assistance Mr. Kirk treated the flora of the Chathams in a more searching and thorough manner than had been the case previously.

From the foregoing short history of the botany of the Chathams, it may readily be seen that botanists and collectors have been mainly concerned with the classification and finding of plants, and that very little indeed has been published regarding the plant-covering itself, the plant-formations, the conditions under which the members of the formations are living, the plant-forms which these conditions have evoked or preserved, the changes which civilised man has brought about in the vegetation, or many other matters of high œcological interest. It was with the intention of observing and studying such matters, and, above all, in the hope of being able to put on record a fairly accurate picture of a most remarkable vegetation, doomed in its primeval condition to extinction, that I paid a visit to Chatham Island at the beginning of this present year 1901. I stayed on the island during part of January and February, six weeks in all, but did not visit any of the other islands, so the details in this paper refer only to the vegetation of the principal member of the group, as notified in the title. I had not time to visit every part of the island. Details on this head are noted in the part of this paper dealing with the physiography; here it need only be mentioned that I camped for eleven days on the southern tableland, and was thus enabled to examine with some degree of care the vegetation of a portion of the island not previously visited by any botanist. And this was the more important since there alone may be seen tracts of country clothed with unaltered primeval vegetation, but which unique and interesting spots are every day becoming fewer in number and more limited in extent, so that without doubt in a year or two there will be no longer any virgin plant-formations on the island, except those of inaccessible rocks or of the larger pieces of water. As I write, Mr. W. Jacobs sends me word that the previously inaccessible forest lying under the precipitous cliffs of the south coast has been opened up to stock, and in consequence the last remnant of the Chatham Island forest will soon be a thing of the past so far as its primitive physiognomy is concerned.

Although Chatham Island is only small, its very irregular shape, the great lagoon which occupies its centre, and the difficult travelling through a vegetation sometimes extremely dense would require a much longer time than I was able to devote in order to make anything like an exhaustive examination of the plant-covering. This paper must be looked upon, then, as an introductory and most general one, and intended

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merely to pave the way for much more thorough œcological investigations. I have purposely usually only treated with any detail those plants which are endemic, and in this case the sins of omission are many, while a too rapid examination of most of the formations has probably in some cases led to error.

Before concluding this introduction I must express my most hearty thanks to all those residing on Chatham Island with whom I came in contact. All sought to render me every assistance possible, and whatever success may have attended my visit is due principally to their great hospitality and extreme kindness. Also, I must specially express my great obligation to the following: Mr. F. A. D. Cox, Mr. A. Shand, Mr. E. R. Chudleigh, Mr. W. Jacobs, Captain F. W. Hutton, F.R.S., Mr. T. F. Cheeseman, F.L.S., Mr. D. Petrie, M.A., F.L.S., and Mr. H. Carse.


For the sake of convenience Chatham Island may be divided into three portions—a northern, a central, and a southern. The northern portion consists of two peninsulas, the western and the eastern, which are separated from one another by the northern and widest portion of Te Whanga Lagoon, and are connected only by the very narrow strip of land which in the north separates the lagoon from the ocean.

The western peninsula—Whareka on the map (49)—is about 16 ½ miles in length from Te Raki Point to Waipapa on the lagoon, and some seven miles broad at its base from the north of Waitangi Beach to the shore near Wharekauri. In the north two triangular pieces of land jut out northwards, culminating in Capes Young and Pattisson respectively. The eastern peninsula is a narrow triangular piece of land nearly nine miles and a half in length and five miles in width at the base, its widest portion. The northern portion of the great lagoon is eight miles and three-quarters in width, and is separated from the ocean by a narrow strip of land varying from a mile and a quarter in its widest to one-eighth of a mile in its narrowest part. The central portion of the island is occupied for a great part of its area by the southern part of Te Whanga Lagoon. This is separated from Hanson Bay on the east by a very narrow strip of land, varying from a mile and a half to a quarter of a mile in width; but on the west the land bounded by Petre Bay is of greater size and importance, having a width in the south of from two and a half to three miles and in the centre a mile and a half, while in the north a broad triangular piece of land stretches into the lagoon, measuring seven miles and a quarter from Karewa to the Waitangi Beach.

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The south portion of the island forms a compact four-sided block of an almost uniform length of nine miles and a half from Petre Bay to Pitt Strait, and with a breadth of, from east to west, 13¼ miles. The south-east corner beyond Ouenga juts out slightly towards the east.

The greatest length of the island as a whole is thirty miles, measuring from Cape Young to Te Rahui, and its greatest breadth, measuring in the north from Te Whakaru Island to Te Raki, is thirty-five miles. From the above it may be seen that, owing to the peculiar shape of the island, no place in the interior is at any great distance from the sea or the great lagoon: in the north two miles and a half is the extreme limit, in the centre only one and a third miles, and in the more compact south four miles and three-quarters. Hence, no part of the island is beyond the reach and influence of a strong sea-breeze.

Speaking generally, the surface of the land is low, though in most places more or less undulating. The southern portion of Chatham Island is by far the highest above sea-level, and in comparison with the rest of the island looks quite hilly. Its highest portion, however, the Trig. station near Te Awa-tapu, is only 286 m., and Pipitarawai, the highest point of the main ridge and watershed of that part of the island, is about 2 m. lower. From this ridge to the sea stretches a kind of tableland, culminating in some abrupt cliffs, which vary in height from 182 m. to 213 m., and are cut in places into deep gorges by the small streams which drain the tableland. From the other sides of the Pipitarawai Ridge the land slopes gradually downwards to the coast. The flat but usually undulating surface of the northern and central portions of the island is relieved here and there by conical hills, which reach at times a height of 152 m. or 182 m., and of which the most important are the forest-clad Korako, Wharekauri, and Maunganui. The extensive coast-line varies in character from flat ground bordered with sandhills or low rocks to the high cliffs of the south coast. Small streams are abundant all over the island, but only two, the Waitangi and the Awainanga, rise to the dignity of rivers. Most of the streams flow slowly, and the water is always dark-brown, from the large amount of peat which it holds in suspension. The great lagoon, Te Whanga, is nearly fifteen miles in length, and its area is estimated at 46,000 acres (18). In certain places the lagoon is so shallow that it can be forded on horseback; indeed, under certain conditions of the wind the northern ford may be quite dry. Besides Te Whanga there are many other lagoons and lakes; indeed, it is stated that fully one-third of the surface of the island is occupied by water (18). Bogs of considerable size are very frequent, and occur both on the high and low ground.

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Thus both the very low north-west of the island and the highest parts of the tableland of the south consist of quaking bog. Even when the ground is not boggy its water-content is usually very considerable; and, speaking generally for the whole island, excepting in places long cultivated, wet ground is much more common than dry.

The soil in most parts of Chatham Island consists of peat, which must in many places be of a very great depth, Mr. Travers stating that it is often 50 ft. deep (51). If the peat through any reason should become dry it will burn with great readiness, and should it be set on fire it may slowly burn for many years. Such burning—and it is perhaps from this that he gave his estimate of the depth of peat—is thus described by Mr. Travers (51, p. 177): “In several parts of the island this peat has been on fire for years, burning at a considerable depth below the surface, which, when sufficiently undermined, caves in and is consumed. I have seen the loose ashes arising from these fires upwards of 30 ft. deep.” On the peaty plain on the north-west peninsula I saw a hollow caused by the peat having been burned, which even then was smouldering in places. This hollow was about 3 m. in depth—i.e., only one-third of the depth stated by Mr. Travers—and its area about 2 acres. The burning must have taken place many years ago, for the bottom of the hole was a dense mass of vegetation, thus affording a very interesting example of what species of indigenous plants will, under present climatic conditions, people a piece of virgin ground. Very often these burnt-out hollows become filled with water and remain as permanent lakes; indeed, Mr. A. Shand is of opinion that probably all the lakes of the island, including even those of the tableland, have originated recently in this manner. Besides peat, a much richer soil, called locally “red clay” and formed of disintegrated volcanic rock, occurs in some few places—much of the country from the south of Lake Huro to the Whanga Lagoon and for some distance further southeast is of this character; other patches occur from the Ngaio to Waitangi along the coast, and others again in the neighbourhood of some of the old volcanic conical hills.

As pointed out in the introduction, I did not visit quite a number of important localities. of these the chief were the extremity of the north-western peninsula, from Maunganui to Te Raki Point; the south coast of the north-western peninsula; the narrow slip of land along the north coast from Wharekauri to Matarakau; the east coast of the island from the ford over Te Whanga to Ouenga; and the greater part of the coast-line on the east from Waitangi to the Horns.

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Not very much is known about the geology of Chatham Island. Mr. Travers collected rock specimens and a few fossils. From these specimens and from notes supplied by Mr. Travers Sir Julius von Haast published the only paper (a very short one, occupying a page and a half) which, so far as I am aware, has appeared on the geology of the island.* Captain F. W. Hutton, F.R.S., has also examined Mr. Travers's specimens, and he tells me that he agrees with the main conclusions in Haast's paper—namely, that the Chatham Islands first emerged from the ocean during some portion of the Tertiary period.

The following is abstracted from Haast's paper (23): “The principal island is of volcanic origin, and consists chiefly of basaltic and doleritic rocks and tufas.” “Several cones with a crater-like character show in the different centres of eruption, whilst around them and extending from one to the other marine sands have formed barriers enclosing tracts of low land favourable for the formation of peat swamps.” I may here point out that, as probably the islands have extended over a much wider area than is now the case, these sand barriers must be of comparatively recent origin, while also these tracts of low land are in the north and not in the south of the island, which also contains most extensive deposits of peat. “The oldest rocks visible occur near Kaingaroa, and consist of micaceous clay slates, silky and of a pale-grey colour.” These rocks, Captain Hutton tells me, must be a portion of an ancient rocky platform from which the new volcanic islands arose. “Some beds of limestone fringe the south-western shores of that lagoon”—Te Whanga. Haast concludes, “Thus clear evidence is offered to us that in an early part of the Tertiary period volcanic action took place in this part of the Pacific Ocean, and, although we meet on the main island some signs of the existence of old sedimentary rocks, there is no doubt that these, volcanic eruptions gave birth to this archipelago.” Haast also mentions the occurrence of lignite beds overlaid by limestone on Pitt Island, and Mr. Florence (18) calls attention to the occurrence of lignite in the north of Chatham Island.


Meteorological observations have been taken for a number of years by Messrs. Shand and Cox in the neighbourhood of Waitangi, the thermometers being kept in a screen standing on the grassy slope facing south-east in front of Mr. Cox's

[Footnote] * See Trans. N.Z. Inst., vol. 11., art. xliii.: “Notes on the Geology of the Outlying Islands of New Zealand” (including Chatham Islands), p. 183, by J. Hector.—[Ed.]

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residence. This locality is about 30 m. above sea-level. In an area so small as Chatham Island, where every part is within a few miles of the sea, and where the highest land only attains a height of 286 m., it seems unlikely that there should be any marked differences in temperature or rainfall; but Mr. W. Jacobs, who is intimately acquainted with the high southern portion of the island, assures me that there the rainfall is greater and the cold more severe than in the neighbourhood of Waitangi. With regard to differences in temperature, I think he is mistaken; but, as for the rainfall, my own very limited experience goes to confirm his statement. Mr. Cox also writes to me of the greater rainfall in the neighbourhood of Pipitarawai as if it were a well-known fact.

The average rainfall at the meteorological station is 30.4 in. (18). This is by no means high when compared with many places in New Zealand, but the number of rainy days is considerable. For example, 28.32 in. of rain fell on 192 days in 1890; 34.46 in. fell on 187 days in 1899; 24.29 in. on 185 days in 1897; 32.17 in. on 194 days in 1896; 34.48 in. on 194 days in 1895; and 35.01 in. on 190 days in 1894. Thus light showers, very often of short duration, are frequent, while heavy rain is exceptional, although there is usually at least one fall during the year of from 1 in. to 2 in. or even more during the twenty-four hours. The rain usually comes from the north, consequently it is a warm rain; but, as is so often the case in many parts of New Zealand, this is immediately followed by much colder rain from the south-west, which has a direct effect on restraining vegetable growth. The driest month is December, with an average rainfall of 1.67 in., while the wettest is July, with an average of 3.92. Taking the seasons of the year, summer is the driest and winter the wettest, the figures being: Spring (September, October, November), 6.11 in.; summer (December, January, February), 5.97 in.; autumn (March, April, May), 7.76 in.; and winter (June, July, August), 8.83 in. The character of the vegetation of any region depending more upon the number of rainy days than upon the total rainfall, the average number of rainy days for each month of the year is of special interest; these are: January, 11.7; February, 11; March, 12.1; April, 13.7; May, 17.8; June, 19; July, 23.2; August, 18.2; September, 16.8; October, 17.7; November, 14.7; December, 10 9.

Turning now to the temperature, the mean yearly temperature is 51.4° Fahr., and the mean daily range 10.4° Fahr. The extreme maximum and minimum temperatures for each month are respectively: January, 73° Fahr., 35° Fahr.; February, 70° Fahr., 35° Fahr.; March, 69° Fahr., 40° Fahr.; April, 67° Fahr., 37° Fahr.; May, 64° Fahr., 34° Fahr.; June,

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58° Fahr., 32° Fahr.; July, 59° Fahr., 31° Fahr.; August, 58° Fahr., 30° Fahr.; September, 59° Fahr., 31° Fahr.; October, 60° Fahr., 34° Fahr.; November, 67° Fahr., 36° Fahr.; December, 74° Fahr., 38° Fahr. The mean daily maximum temperature for a series of years ranged between 67° Fahr. and 60° Fahr. for January, the hottest month, and between 51.6° Fahr. and 48.8° Fahr. for July, the coldest month; similarly, the mean daily minimum ranged between 56.3° Fahr. and 48.6° Fahr. for January and 42.6° Fahr. and 38.2° Fahr. for July. Such figures as the above are of very little value in estimating the degree of heat to which the plants are subjected, since the readings were taken in the shade. On this point Mr. T. H. Kearney writes, in a recent work on the vegetation of a certain island near the coast of the United States (34, p. 262): “Readings were taken in the shade, consequently they do not represent the temperature to which most of the vegetation is actually exposed, being subject to insolation during the hours of sunshine; they are chiefly valuable for purposes of comparison with other climates.” Although the thermometer very frequently falls below 40° Fahr. in Chatham Island, owing chiefly to the frequency of the cold south-west wind, it rarely reaches the freezing-point. The frost never exceeds 1° or 2°, or perhaps double this amount on the ground; while not unfrequently there is no frost at all during the year. Some years are quite without snow, in others snow has fallen on one or two days; but it usually melts as it falls, and never lies on the ground for more than a few hours. Associated with the frequent showers is a cloudy sky, and mists are not uncommon, especially in the early hours of the morning. The average number of calm days during the year is only seven. This fact speaks volumes as to the importance of the wind factor on the plant-life of Chatham Island. The most important winds are the rain-bringing north-west and southwest winds; if to the former are added those marked “N.” in the statistics and to the latter those marked “S.,” the average number of days on which it blows from north-west to north are 116.3, and on which it blows from south-west to south are 139. Taking the east, south-east, and north-east winds together, these blow on an average on 71.1 days, while the west wind blows on 28 3 days.

Speaking generally regarding the climate of Chatham Island, as shown by the above figures and others in the statistics not quoted here, also from information given to me both by Messrs. Cox and Shand, the climate is exceedingly mild and equable—the summers are never very hot, while in winter there is occasionally a very slight frost. Light showers, lasting only a very short time, are frequent. The

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sky is often cloudy, and mist accompanies the northerly winds, especially in spring. The winter is the wettest season of the year, and in consequence of the wet nature of the ground, even in dry weather, much water lies about in flat places and hollows during that season. The wind is always blowing from some quarter or another, and often with considerable violence. The air, in part owing to the wet nature of the ground, must contain a great deal of moisture. Thunder-storms occur occasionally, after which there is nearly always a week or more of unsettled weather.

A good deal can be learnt about the climate of any district by observing the plants which are cultivated in gardens or fields. In Chatham Island all the ordinary vegetables grow very well indeed; potatoes especially succeed so well that in the early days they were to some extent a source of revenue. The first early potatoes are dug at the end of October or the beginning of November. Cereals are not much cultivated, oats alone being grown to any extent. These are sown in August or September and reaped in February, yielding, when grown on good ground, 40 or 50 bushels to the acre. Wheat is not now grown; neither the climate nor the soil is especially suitable, but probably the chief reason for its exclusion is that flour can be more cheaply imported than produced on the island. Certain plants growing in Mr. Cox's garden testify to the mildness of the climate. Amongst these are greenhouse Pelargoniums forming large bushes, greenhouse Fuchsias of a similar size, Sempervivum arboreum, and an arborescent species of Aloc not hardy in Canterbury gardens. Growing side by side with the above are most of the indigenous Olearias and Veronicas, two or three species of New Zealand subalpine Veronicas, and a most magnificent specimen of Olearia lyallii from the Snares, a plant very difficult to cultivate in many parts of New Zealand. All the ordinary hardy fruit-trees thrive and bear fruit abundantly. At Te Whakaru, only a few metres above high-water mark, is one of the orchards planted more than fifty years ago by the missionaries. The trees at the time of my visit were almost breaking under the weight of fruit. But the most interesting fact about this orchard is that it is quite free from all those kinds of animal and vegetable pests now so common on New Zealand fruit-trees.

History of Man on Chatham Island.

The influence of man through the disturbing factors, which in direct proportion to his degree of civilisation he has introduced into the vegetation of all inhabited lands, is a matter of very great interest and importance. It therefore seems necessary, before discussing the plant-formations in detail, to give

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some account; of man's history on Chatham Island, so that it can be seen what new factors he has added to the surroundings of the vegetation, and for how long a time they have been influential and to what degree of power they have attained. Then, having pictured as accurately as my limited investigations allow the primeval plant-covering in its various phases, an attempt is made to pourtray the changes in that vegetation which man purposely or accidentally, by means of cultivation, animals, exotic plants, and fires, has brought about. All this is the more interesting since it seems to me that but the merest fraction of the vegetation of civilised or semi-civilised portions of the Old World can be in its primeval condition*—that, for example, forests, and even alpine meadows, which appear to all intents and purposes primeval are but artificial productions after all. But the vegetation of Chatham Island has, ever since it first became isolated on that land, been, prior to the advent of man, exposed to no foreign influences, not even to those attacks of wild herbivorous mammals under the modifying influence of which much of the vegetation of the earth has been developed.

The aborigines of Chatham Island are Polynesians, and appear to be merely a branch of the Maori race. According to Mr. A. Shand they, before the arrival of any other people, had lived on Chatham Island for about seven hundred and seventy years. They did not cultivate the ground at all. The only vegetable foods they made use of were the rhizome of Ptei is esculenta and the fruit of Corynocarpus lœvigata. Their settlements were not confined to any one part of the island, but they moved about here and there according to plentifulness of food in certain localities. When the sea-birds came to lay their eggs on the “clears” in the south of the island they would live in that part. So important was this article of food to them that they made a sort of rude calendar based on the period when any particular egg was most abundant. The egg season over, they would move about the rocky portion of the coast for fish, along the lakes and lagoons for eels, or they would visit those places where the holes of the mutton-birds most abounded; even they would visit in their large canoes the neighbouring islands and rocks in search of birds. All the above would have little effect on the vegetation. The dense

[Footnote] * Mr. W. L. Bray writes regarding the vegetation of western Texas (2, 118): “Under what may be called natural conditions to distinguish them from conditions which prevail under the present era of exploitation the grass-formations held their own in the perpetual struggle against woody vegetation. With the advent of the cattle business, however, this advantage was lost, and the present is an era of the rapid encroachment of timber-formations.”

[Footnote] † The name “clears” is given by the white settlers to those places not covered with forest.

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forests and bogs the Morioris would avoid, and foot-tracks would come to be formed over the easiest ground, which are possibly identical with the main tracks through the island at the present day. The only way in which they could do any damage to the plant-covering would be through setting the swamp and dry ridge vegetation on fire, for the forest, happily, will not burn; and probably some of the present lakes originated in that manner, through the peat catching fire during the Moriori period.

In November, 1791, Lieutenant Broughton, Commander of H.M.S. “Chatham” (47), discovered Chatham Island. He sailed along the north coast, landing in the neighbourhood of Kaingaroa. There he hoisted the British flag and took possession of the island in the name of King George III. While on shore he had an encounter with the natives and one was killed.

No more white men visited the island until 1834, when a Sydney whaling-ship arrived, which had on board four young Maori sailors. Probably the captain of this ship, or of some of the other whalers which about this time visited the island, introduced the pig; at any rate, in the early “fifties” these animals were more numerous in a wild state than they are at the present time. The four Maoris brought the tidings to their tribe of the excellence of Chatham Island, and, as it offered a haven of refuge from Te Rauparaha, the whole tribe decided to leave New Zealand and settle on the island. Accordingly, in 1835, they seized a vessel and compelled the captain to take them from Wellington to Chatham Island. Two trips were made to the island, and about nine hundred Maoris were landed on its shores. The Morioris, the number of whom has been estimated at from fifteen hundred to two thousand, being essentially a most peaceful race, and in consequence of their isolated position knowing nothing of the art of war, were quickly subdued and reduced to a state of slavery by the invading Maoris, who, moreover, were armed with firearms. The Morioris rapidly decreased in numbers, some hundreds being soon killed by the Maoris. Famine and disease also decimated them, and so they have decreased year by year until now less than a dozen pure Morioris are in existence. The Maoris brought with them potatoes, taro, and kumaras, but found the climate suitable only for the potato, which they cultivated in sufficient quantities to supply their wants.

In the year 1843 five German missionaries, of whom one, Mr. Engst, is still alive, and resided on the island till quite recently, were sent from Berlin by a German missionary society, and with their advent must date the first beginnings of change in the vegetation, for they made gardens, cultivated wheat to

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some extent, and a little later on planted orchards. With the fruit-trees came over a grass, Mr. Shand informs me. This I have not seen, but it was probably one of the first introduced plants to spread spontaneously on the island. As the fruit-trees would not grow without shelter, the missionaries made use of the indigenous Olearia traversii for this purpose, and it answered admirably.

The most important event for the future of the vegetation was the introduction of sheep, cattle, and horses. In 1841 Mr. Hanson, who had visited Chatham Island on behalf of the New Zealand Company, sent a few cows and a bull to be pastured on the island. At a later date most of these cattle and their offspring were removed to New Zealand, but a few were secured by the missionaries. Shortly afterwards a few merino sheep were brought to the island, but they did not evidently increase to any great extent, for in 1855 there were probably only about two hundred sheep on the island, and these mainly in the neighbourhood of Ouenga. At a little later date than the cattle and sheep, horses were introduced, but for a long time they were scarce, and it was not until the year 1868 that they became wild in the unsettled districts. Cattle must have become wild much earlier, for Mr. Shand tells me that traps were made for them in the early part of the “sixties,” and at the present time they are very numerous indeed on the tableland. It was not until the year 1866 that sheep-stations were organized as at present, at which time there would be perhaps two thousand sheep on the island. Since the above date sheep, horses, and cattle have increased enormously, horses as well as cattle being wild in many places and in considerable numbers, while some sixty thousand sheep roam over the whole of the island.

In addition to the animals many exotic plants have come over in the train of the white man, every one of which, when once established, must play a part in altering the aspect of the different plant-formations of which it is able to become a member.

The direct influence of the white man on the vegetation has not been very great, cultivation not having been undertaken on a very large scale.


In an island so small as Chatham Island, where herbivorous animals have roamed almost everywhere at their own sweet will ever since their first introduction, and where, moreover, much of the vegetation has been burnt again and again, hardly any of the plant-covering can still be in its virgin condition. On this account the plant-formations may be divided into the recent, or modified, and the original, or

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unmodified. From a careful study of the present plant-covering in a large number of places it seems certainly possible in many instances to get a fairly accurate idea of the original formations, especially when aided by the information of those who have resided on the island almost from its first settlement by Europeans. Those small pieces of original vegetation which from their peculiar situation have up to the present been undisturbed also aid most notably in affording a clue to the character of similar formations in other parts of the island; but, of course, the results deduced from such a comparison must be accepted with caution, since a slight difference in edaphic conditions may lead to more or less considerable changes in a formation. In some instances the descriptions of the individual plant-formations which follow are limited to certain stated localities.

Dr. H. C. Cowles very justly observes (142, p. 178) that “plant societies must be grouped according to origins and relationships, and the idea of constant change must be strongly emphasized”; and, further, “The laws that govern changes are mainly physiographic; whether we have broad flood plains, xerophytic hills, or undrained swamps depends on the past and present of the ever-changing topography.” The above ideas I have attempted to in some small degree carry out, and have taken for the most part the plant-formations in what seems to me their order of sequence, and have sought in some instances to point out their relationships. To have attempted, however, a physiographical classification of the formations with any degree of thoroughness was out of the question. Such would require, in the first place, to be based on what does not yet exist—a description of the topographical geology of the island by a competent geologist; and, in the second place, a very much more accurate study of the formations than I was able to make would be essential.

There are on Chatham Island two distinct regions of vegetation, of which the most marked difference is shown by the forests. The one is confined to the tableland, and the other comprises all the remainder of the island. For this latter I suggest the name “lowland region,” a not particularly good name, but sufficiently applicable, since most of its surface is only a few metres above sea-level, while its hills are low isolated volcanic cones. Probably some of the differences between the vegetation of the tableland and lowland regions have been accentuated by fires, &c., while the woods above the north-west and west coast of the southern part of the island seem, so far as a rapid examination showed, to be in some degree a transition between lowland and tableland forest. All the same, the differences between the

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vegetation of the two regions is sufficiently well marked, and that such should occur on two adjacent parts of a very small island is a matter of considerable interest.

Sandy Sea-shore.

The only portion of this formation examined with any degree of care was the shore in the north of the island, stretching from Wharekauri to Cape Young. Here the shore gradually merges into the dunes by way of very low mounds and ridges. The conditions for vegetation establishing itself and thriving in such a position are very severe, owing to the looseness and dryness of the soil, exposure to frequent sea-breezes causing drifting of the sand and excessive transpiration from the leaves of the plants, liability to submersion by salt water at periods of abnormally high tides, more or less salt in the soil at all times, and strong insolation. The sand is rather coarse in texture—much more so, indeed, than in some other parts of the island (Waitangi Beach, e.g.)—and contains an abundance of very small pieces of minute shells. Just above high-water mark grow Calystegia* soldanella and Ranunculus acaulis in patches here and there, but forming only a very thin covering on the loose and easily moved sand. The trailing stems of C. soldanella, furnished with a few fleshy leaves, are very short, being rarely more than 4 cm. in length; the rest of the plant is subterranean, with the exception of the flowers. These latter are large, lilac and white in colour, semiprostrate, with their peduncles buried beneath the sand right to the base of the calyx. This small development of Calystegia contrasts greatly with the same species when growing on sand-dunes at some distance from the sea in many parts of New Zealand. There it forms great masses trailing over the sand, or, when growing in sheltered positions amongst other plants, it actually assumes a climbing habit of growth. Ranunculus acaulis grows in small rosettes, connected together by white underground stems. The leaves, of which there are four or five in each rosette, lie flat on the sand, are ternate in shape, of a rather thick texture, and varnished on the upper surface. The roots are fleshy, seven or eight times as long as the leaves, and descend deeply into the sand. The flower-stem, by the time the fruit is mature, usually arches downwards towards the ground, thus often depositing the ripe achenes below the surface of the sand. This may be merely the result of a mechanical bending of the

[Footnote] * This Hooker (29, p. 198) considered identical with the European and Australian forms of this species, but, as he held the opinion then so prevalent that species were large conjunctive groups, it may quite well be that the New Zealand plant differs from the European, or even the Australian, in certain particulars.

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stem by the drifting sand aided by the increasing weight of the fruit, or it may be an adaptation for sowing the seed, thus hindering it from being blown inland into positions where the seedlings would have little chance of maintaining themselves amongst a more luxuriant vegetation. Whether such bending of the stem is hereditary can only be ascertained by experimental culture.

The sandy shore plant-formation is distinctly a modified one, though to the casual observer there is nothing to notify that fact. In its primitive state it might well have received the name of “Myosotidium formation.” Just* above high-water mark, where the great masses of kelp accumulate, right up to the junction of shore and dune, on to the dunes themselves, and into the open part of the Myrsine-Olearia “scrub,” formerly extended great clumps and patches of this truly magnificent plant. Not only on the sandy shore was it found, but it occupied low peaty ground near the sea, rocky shores, and rocky ledges of cliffs covered with sand, where, with the immense sow-thistle, it must have struggled for sovereignty. At the present time, as explained further on, it is hardly to be found wild in the island. Myosotidium nobile has a stout rhizome creeping either just below the surface of the ground or often with its greater part above the surface, in the manner of the New Zealand Ranunculus lyallii or the Californian Saxifraga peltata. Such a rhizome in a wild plant which I examined measured 5.2 cm. in diameter. The leaves in shape and form are not unlike those of the garden rhubarb, and consist of a comparatively thin lamina held in position by an extremely strong framework of midrib and veins beneath, and the course of which is defined by channels on the upper surface. The leaves are nearly always bent in the form of a funnel, which must be very advantageous for catching the water of the light showers and conducting it to the channelled petiole, flowing down which it reaches the roots. Petioles, midribs, and veins are very fleshy and juicy. Certain leaves which I measured were 25 cm. by 29.5 cm.; 27 cm. by 22 cm., with petiole 12 cm.; 32 cm. by 38 cm., with petiole 44 cm. The large leaves, after being cast off, very soon become dry, and in course of time a very considerable depth of humus results. The peduncles are stout, and raise the flowers above the foliage. In one case a peduncle measured was 60 cm. tall and 18 mm. in diameter, bearing a close head of racemes 12 cm. in diameter. The central half of the corolla is bright blue, changing afterwards to purple, and the outer half is white. Mrs. Chudleigh, of Wharekauri, discovered a form with white

[Footnote] * According to Mr. F. A. D. Cox.

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flowers some years ago, and through her instrumentality this has become fairly common in cultivation. There is a notion prevalent that M. nobile cannot be grown inland at any distance from the sea, Mr. A. Bathgate, e.g., stating that it requires the salt air (11), but this is quite a mistake. One of the finest plants I ever saw in cultivation was shown to me by Mr. T. W. Adams in a garden situated at Greendale, on the Canterbury Plains, at a distance of twenty-four miles from the sea, the plant in question having been there for more than ten years, flowering regularly and bearing abundance of seed. It seems to me that most likely M. nobile has been thrust into its present maritime position not by choice, but by the pressure of encroaching plants or other enemies. M. Battandier, as the result of eleven years' close study of the flora of Algeria, has come to a similar conclusion with regard to certain maritime plants, and in a most interesting paper details the facts on which his opinion is based (1).


Sand-dunes of considerable extent and varying height occupy a large proportion of the ground adjacent to the sea. They extend along the whole east coast from Te Whakaru in the north to Ouenga in the south, along most of the north coast from Kaingaroa to Waitangi West, and along a very large part of the coast of Petre Bay in the west. Before the introduction of herbivorous animals these dunes were covered in many places with a dense forest, consisting chiefly of Olearia traversii and Myrsine chathamica, and reaching in many places almost to the water's edge. At that time moving sand-dunes may have been unknown. But now there is a very different state of affairs. True, the forest still fringes the coast-line in many places, but here and there it is broken through by great hills of drifting sand, which have buried wholly or in part the former plant-covering Such moving hills have in some instances passed beyond the limits of the former wooded area, and are encroaching rapidly on the inland meadow land. A striking example of this encroaching sand burying the forest may be observed between Waitangi and Te One. There in places tree-tops project from the summit of the highest dunes. In one spot on the landward side on the flat is a grove of Olearia traversii where every stage of burial can be observed, from the tree-tops almost covered, to their bases just covered by the sand. This advance landwards of the sand is very serious from the economic point of view; but happily the settlers have found a remedy within recent years in the planting of marram-grass on the moving dunes. This, as might be expected from the results of planting this grass in other countries, has proved a

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very great success, and now, where but three or four years ago was a desert of sand, tall grass may be seen waving in the breeze, each clump so close to the next that no sand is visible. Nor need a grass little relished by stock be alone made use of. Elymus arenarius has also been planted, and thrives equally well, and Mr. J. Barker tells me that at Kaingaroa stock eat it with avidity.* Although the sand-dune vegetation has been much changed by the advent of domestic animals, it is possible to get a fairly good idea of what it was like in its original state by examining, in as many localities as possible, those portions which have been the least changed. The dunes abutting on that part of the Wharekauri Beach the plant-covering of which has been described above are well adapted for the purpose in view, insomuch as they are still covered with vegetation almost to high-water mark, the forest forming a wide belt, separated from the sea-shore by a narrow zone, only a few inches in width, of stable dunes covered with certain characteristic sand-dune plants of more lowly growth. And this locality also affords a striking example of the different stages in the evolution of the vegetation of a sandy coast, commencing with the more or less open vegetation of the strand, and passing by way of low dunes fixed by various sand-binding plants to the final higher dunes covered with forest.

Commencing at the junction of shore and dune, the sand at first forms merely low mounds or ridges. The vegetation, though fairly abundant for a medium such as sand, is open, many places being quite bare. On the ridges grows the common New Zealand grass Festuca littoralis. This grass casts its “seeds” in large masses alongside the parent plant, where, being soon buried by the drifting sand, they readily germinate. Behind the Festuca are higher mounds clothed with Pimelea arenaria, the long cord-like underground stems of which put forth adventitious roots near their extremities, which latter, bending upwards, raise themselves above the encroaching sand. The leaves are closely imbricating near the extremities of the branches, but below are a little more open. They are all most densely silky on the under-surface, a most efficient protection against excessive transpiration. Owing to the leafy extremities of the stems being erect,

[Footnote] * Other plants used for binding sand with success in Europe are Ammophila baltica, Calamagrostis epigea, Carex arenaria, and with these are used various species of Pinus, Picea, Betula, and Alnus. (See “Handbuch des deutschen Dunenbaues,” P. Gerhardt, Berlin, 1900.)

[Footnote] † For the sake of convenience, the term “seed” is used throughout this paper in its popular acceptation, and includes, of course, various kinds of fruits.

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the semi-rosettes of leaves can receive the incident light to the best advantage. Below, the stems are marked faintly with the old leaf-scars, thus defining those portions of the plant which have formerly been terminal. It is probable that the oldest portions of the plant—i.e., the most deeply buried portions—die, while the plant continues to increase by the rooting of its terminal shoots. Such a plant might, then, attain to a very great age, so long as it was able to hold its own against advancing sand or denuding wind. The Pimelea mounds are from 1 m. to 1.2 m. in height. Sometimes the Pimelea grows unmixed with other vegetation, but more often its protection is taken advantage of by other plants, especially by Deyeuxia billardieri, Isolepis nodosa, and Acœna novœ-zelandiœ. Such a plant of Pimelea arenaria as described above averages about 4 m. in length. 3 m. in breadth, and 47 cm. in height. Another abundant plant of this zone is Carex pumila, which here grows in association with Convolvulus soldanella. This Carex has also the power of growing upwards as the sand covers it, and, with its stout, long, creeping rhizomes, assists the dune very materially in resisting the wind and the advancing sand. Ranunculus acaulis is also abundant here, playing its part as a sand-binder, and in habit much the same as described before when treating of the strand vegetation. Less abundant than any of the foregoing is Euphorbia glauca, which forms small colonies extending sometimes into the more open parts of the adjacent forest. Its seedlings are fairly plentiful on the sand near the parent plants. Although not very abundant on that part of the dunes here treated of, Scirpus frondosus is by far the most characteristic sand-dune plant of the island, and, indeed, of the whole New Zealand area. It can form settlements and hold its own in positions where no other New Zealand flowering-plant can exist, and only the most constant and furious winds can destroy a dune where it is properly established. Indeed, for sand-binding power it is probably not equalled either by Ammophila arenaria or by Elymus arenarius.

The sand-dunes bearing the forest zone are higher than those just described, and extend inland for a distance of 300 m., more or less. The plant-covering consists near the sea entirely of Olearia traversii and Myrsine chathamica; further inland other trees put in an appearance. O. traversii always maintains its character as a low tree, but M. chathamica loses altogether its tree-like habit as it nears high-water mark, and under the influence of the numerous and sometimes violent sea-breezes becomes a leafy shrub with dense close branches. The difference in appearance between the two forms of this plant is so great that one might very easily mistake them for two distinct plants.

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Originally such dune forests* must have been very dense; even now the trees are quite close in many places. On the dunes facing Petre Bay in more than one locality the liane Muhlenbeckia adpressa may be seen climbing over the Olearias, with its numerous interlacing, bare, rope-like stems.

Compared with the sand-dunes of most parts of New Zealand a marked difference lies in the extreme closeness with which the arborescent vegetation of the Chatham Island dunes approaches the shore. This has been brought about, I should imagine, by the general moisture of the atmosphere, the extremely equable climate, and the freedom from periods of drought. In such a climate as this, as long as the dunes are stable, there is little hindrance to trees, especially those of xerophytic habit, establishing themselves and driving the original sand-fixing vegetation towards the sea into an ever-decreasing area, until finally such plants, with their special adaptations against drought and salt in the soil on the one hand and instability of the substratum on the other, would be confined to the narrow zone where in the least changed portions of the sand-dune formation they are now to be found. Moreover, the sand usually, or perhaps always, overlies a layer of peat, and this will be of great benefit for tree-growth. As an example of how a sand-dune forest might originate, my notes furnish the following clue: “On the sand-dunes between Waitangi and Te One Pimelea arenaria occurs in large quantities, forming fixed dunes. Where this plant has quite conquered the drifting sand”—this is, of course, recent drifting sand caused by the destruction of the original vegetation by cattle and sheep—“it encourages the growth of other plants—e.g., Acœna, Gnaphalium luteo-album, and even young seedling plants of Olearia traversii.” With no enemy to trample it down or feed upon it, and under the shade of the Pimelea, O. traversii, thanks to its rapid growth, would soon be well established, and with its enormous number of “seeds” and their extreme suitability for wind dissemination, to say nothing of its xerophytic structure, young plants would soon be established in all favourable localities. Olearia traversii, as it occurs on the dunes, is a low tree, with a rather dense head of foliage and a bare trunk covered with rough bark. The leaves are 5.5 cm. long by 2.5 cm. broad, or shorter and narrower They are rather thick but soft, of a bright shining-green on the upper surface and with the under-surface clothed with extremely dense

[Footnote] * The more inland part of the dune forests are treated of under the heading “Lowland Forest.”

[Footnote] † For an account of certain sand-dunes in the North Island of New Zealand, see Cheeseman (Trans. N.Z. Inst., vol. xxix., p. 364).

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white tomentum, as are also the short petioles and ultimate branchlets. The epidermis is two-layered, and the vascular bundles are surrounded by a sheath of stereome.

Probably Sonchus grandifolius originally grew in some abundance on the fixed dunes, but at present it is to be found only in a few places. Tetragonia trigyna also must at one time have been more or less common. In one place on the inland side of the dunes, near Lake Te Roto, I noticed a few plants of Dodonœa viscosa.

Sand-covered Ledges on Rock.

Closely related to the sand-dunes are those flat places and ledges on maritime rocks on to which sand has blown. Red Bluff, on the west coast of Chatham Island, furnishes a good example of the vegetation of such stations. There, just above high-water mark, Sonchus grandifolius grows with great luxuriance, its large fleshy leaves pressed closely against the sand. This plant is furnished with a very thick juicy creeping rhizome. The leaves are of very great size, but unfortunately I had no measure with me at the time of observation. According to Mr. T. Kirk (37), they are “from 1 ft. to 2 ft. long by 4 in. to 7 in. broad.” The plant is truly a herbaceous one, its aerial portion dying down to the ground every year—an uncommon phenomenon with the plants of New Zealand generally. The young leaves make their appearance in September, and grow with considerable rapidity. The mature leaves are thick and rather hard. The pale-green upper surface is slighty concave, owing to the leaf-segments being bent upwards; the under-surface is glaucous, probably owing to a covering of wax. The florets are pale-purple towards the circumference of the head, assuming a lighter colour toward the centre, where finally they are pale-yellow. The under-surface of the florets is dark-purple near the apex. The outer involucral bracts are extremely thick, and armed with short thick spines. Such spiny bracts, with the addition of those more internal, form an excellent protection to the young bud which would otherwise be exposed to danger of injury from the sand, often blown against it with great violence by the frequent high winds. Growing in company with S. grandifolius, and in considerable quantities, are Apium australe, Samolus recOxii, Salicornia australis, and the remarkable grass Agropyrum coxii.* This latter forms large sheets lying on the sand. It spreads by means of rather stout underground stems. Its extremely supple filiform leaves are so much incurved as to

[Footnote] * For the various new species mentioned, see further on, towards the conclusion of the article.

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form an almost closed pipe, into which the dry air can with difficulty penetrate. A transverse section of the leaf shows that it is conduplicate, and appearing almost as if terete. The two halves of the leaf are slightly asymmetrical. Between the margins of the leaf is a very narrow opening, which leads into a wider channel in which the midrib projects. On each side of the midrib are one or two, perhaps more, lateral furrows reaching more than halfway to the dorsal surface of the leaf. The epidermis of the dorsal surface has a fairly thick cuticle and three layers of cells; that of the ventral surface consists of one row of rounded cells with thin walls, a few of the cells being drawn out into unicellular hairs. The stomata are situated in the furrows, and the guard-cells are sunk below the level of the epidermal cells The other plants mentioned above, excepting Sonchus grandifolius, are all common New Zealand halophytes with thick leaves and much-creeping underground stems.

Besides the sand having blown on to ledges, it is often drifted against the lower parts of rocks, and forms there a plant-station which puts one in mind of some of the slopes of fine limestone débris in the Southern Alps of the South Island of New Zealand. In such unstable ground grows the extremely succulent Atriplex billardieri, while patches of Tillœa moschata are abundant.

Stony Sea-shore.

The only locality where I examined this formation was Te Whakaru. Unfortunately, my notes are so few that I can only give very general and by no means exact details. So far as I can remember, the shore at Te Whakaru varies from large loose slabs of stone piled one upon another to coarse gravelly sand, containing large quantities of broken shells and having very many rocks rising out of it. Such a shore is much more stable than the dry sandy one before described; the presence of stones on the surface helps to conserve the moisture, so offering permanently moist spots for the ramification of roots, and the large rocks afford shade and shelter. In consequence of these altogether more hospitable edaphic conditions, the stony shore formation is richer in species and its plant-covering more dense than the sandy shore, nor are special adaptations against shifting sand or such strongly marked xerophytic structure indispensable. All the same, the rich development of the underground stem and lowly habit of growth to be found in all the species—Urtica australis excepted—fits them both for resisting drought and the attacks of sheep.

Growing on the sand close to high-water mark are Rumex neglectus(?), with its leaves flattened close to the ground, Ranunculus acaulis, Cotula muelleri, and an introduced

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species of Trifolium. Within a few metres of high-water mark the strand, sloping upwards, gradually merges into the gently sloping peaty ground, which in some places is carpeted with grasses, and in others has small belts of Olearia traversii coming right down to the shore.

Just at the junction of shore and meadow is a turf of Selliera radicans, a plant with a slender stem creeping on or close to the surface of the ground, and with numerous short roots descending into the gravel; its thick leaves also are pressed close against the ground. That very curious umbelliferous plant, Crantzia lineata, also forms a turf in similar situations. Its rush-like hollow leaves are described by Asa Gray as “petioles in place of leaves” (22, p. 205), while Hooker, in the “Flora Antarctica” (30), speaking of specimens from the Plate River, remarks that the leaves sometimes expand into a plane linear-lanceolate obtuse lamina. Goebel calls attention to the same fact (21, pp. 45, 46), and shows clearly that the peculiar structure of Crantzia is a protection against drought, although the South American form grows in swampy meadows. How efficient such an adaptation is for xerophytic conditions, and yet how it can live also in hygrophytic stations, is well illustrated by the Chatham Island plant, which I collected in very wet swamps, on fairly dry sand dunes, on rocks by the sea exposed to frequent drenching with salt water, on extremely dry limestone rocks, and in the shade of the forest on moist peaty ground. Near New Brighton, Canterbury, New Zealand, it grows in a Phormium swamp on the bank of the River Avon, subject to some hours' immersion daily in water, which is often slightly brackish, and even at times extremely salt.

Growing near the rocks which jut out of the stony shore is Urtica australis, a very large nettle, which, as will be seen further on, forms thickets in some parts of the island. At Te Whakaru it is not very tall, being 30 cm. to 35 cm. in height, but the leaves measured 15 cm. by 10 cm. Its thick stems, 1.5 cm. in diameter, enable it to resist the wind. Here and there on the shore grows the introduced Plantago media, which is so much reduced in size and changed generally that it might easily be taken for a different species, were it not for examples of the type growing in a position more favourable for its development further inland.

No doubt a number of other plants occur as constituents of this formation, but none are mentioned in my notes. But, at any rate, the formation is distinctly a modified one, for not only have exotic plants invaded it, but it must have been much changed by sheep, since Te Whakaru was one of the first European settlements on the island.

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Rocky Sea-shore.

This formation, closely related to the stony shore, consists of scattered assemblages of plants living on low and often flat rocks, exposed to sea-spray and subject at times to complete drenching by the waves. The station is eminently xerophytic, but the crevices and hollows often contain a good deal of peaty soil, which easily becomes saturated with water during the frequent showers. The only rock-formation of this character studied was at Te Whakaru. In those places on the rocks where earth had filled up the chinks, crevices, or hollows, is often a fairly dense covering of Crantzia lineata and Samolus repens; in similar situations are large rounded green patches, 15 cm. in diameter, of Triglochin striatum and a small species of Schœnus, or occasionally Tillœa moschata forms still larger patches. This latter plant has red stems and numerous very small but exceedingly succulent leaves.

In crevices of the rocks where there is not much soil Senecio radiolatus and a curious species of Senecio with entire leaves and solitary flower-heads grows here and there. This latter may be merely a depauperated form of Senecio lautus. Seedlings of Olearia traversii are not uncommon even on such rocks as are surrounded at high water by the sea. Pratia arenaria, a plant occurring in almost every plant-formation on the island, not excepting Sphagnum bogs, and a few plants of the trailing Chenopodium triandrum complete the list

Maritime Cliffs and Large Rocks.

Here are included only those lower portions of the coastal cliffs which in many cases, at some time or another, are exposed to the sea-spray, the degree of exposure varying considerably according to the proximity of the rock or cliff to the sea, while often the landward side of many large rocks may never be under the influence of the sea-spray at all. Also here are included certain cliffs situated at a little distance from the sea along lagoons, &c., such as at Lake Waikaua, which, originally actual maritime cliffs, have, since the cutting-off of such lagoons from the sea, become clothed with a modified vegetation. The highest portions of certain cliffs, especially those of the south coast, bear an altogether different vegetation, which in the latter region is in many places closely related to “tableland forest.” The maritime cliffs offer two different kinds of stations: that of the more or less solid portions of the rock and that of sand lodged on flat places or ledges, already discussed.

The plants of the more or less solid rock are such as can, by means of long roots, penetrate the rock through its crevices,

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thus procuring a sufficiency of water, which they store up in certain tissues, or prevent escaping too quickly by special modifications of the leaves. Veronica chathamica is the most characteristic plant of this formation. It roots in crevices and clefts of the rocks, which often contain a certain amount of peat, varying in depth in some particular cases from 5 cm. to 6.3 cm. From the crevice issues a rather thick main stein, from which numerous lateral very supple branches proceed, trailing over the surface of the rock in all directions, or hanging downwards over its steeper portions. The leaves in the bud have the usual decussate arrangement of the Veronicas, and the first two fully formed leaves are in their normal position; but all the other leaves are more or less twisted at their bases, so as to bring the upper surface to the light, the shoot, viewed from the back, showing only the under-surface of the leaves. Even where a vertical cutting is rooted in a flower-pot the newly formed shoot is plagiotropous almost from the first, being bent at right angles to the parent stem, and with all the leaves twisted at the base, so as to bring them into two opposite lateral rows. In nature the leaves are usually somewhat crowded near the ends of the branches, which are quite bare below. The leaves themselves are rather thick and fleshy, pale-green in colour, and covered with numerous short downy hairs on both surfaces and on the margin. They vary considerably in size, and plants differing markedly in this particular may be observed growing side by side. This variation seems the more remarkable, since the life-conditions to which V. chathamica is exposed might well be expected to have produced an invariable species

Geranium traversii, described at some length in the next section, is also common on maritime cliffs in all parts of the coast. In many places the vegetation becomes somewhat luxuriant through great sheets of Mesembryanthemum australe, accompanied by smaller sheets of Salicornia australe and large green patches of Apium australe hanging down and covering the rock. Associated with the above are dotted about plants of Chenopodium glaucum and Atriplex patula. Occasionally, even in places where the sea-spray reaches at times, are stunted, gnarled specimens of Olearia traversii.

The fern Lomaria dura probably grows on the maritime rocks proper, as it does, e.g., at the Bluff, in New Zealand; but in Chatham Island it is especially luxuriant on the cliffs bordering the Waikaua Lagoon. Its. dimensions vary according to the amount of soil and the moisture of its station. In stations facing south on the very steep cliffs it forms colonies to the exclusion of all other vegetation. The leaves of one plant measured 64 cm. in length by 12 cm. in breadth, and it had a stem like a small tree fern, 21 cm. long. Near this

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mass of L. dura grows the large nettle, while below Apium australe is abundant. On the dry solid rock where soil is altogether absent L. dura is of very much smaller dimensions, but I took no measurements.

Shallow Peaty Soil underlaid by Rock.

As the rock weathers away and becomes flatter the vegetation described above becomes more and more abundant until finally a considerable layer of peat results, which supports a plant population different in many respects from that of the original rock. Te Whakaru Island offers an example of such a station, and exhibits the gradual change from the lowly vegetation of the flat ground close to the sea to the grove of O. traversii on the higher ground, many of which trees are of the largest size to which that species can attain. The open parts of the island are covered with a dense carpet of Mesembryanthemum australe, some of which have red and some green leaves. Here and there where the latter has not taken possession, especially in the rather moist places, are patches of turf consisting of Crantzia lineata, Triglochin striatum, Cotula muelleri, Pratia arenaria, Selliera radicans, Schœnus sp., and Ranunculus acaulis. Sometimes the Pratia forms large patches unmixed with any other vegetation. Where the surface of the ground is higher and the soil probably deeper grows the endemic Cotula featherstonii (Plate XIV.). This plant forms large colonies on the dry peaty ground in which the mutton-birds make their holes, probably the presence of the birds' manure defining the habitat of the plant. It possesses a stout, smooth, upright stem, 13 mm. or more in diameter, which gives off about five branches rather close together, which latter again branch in a similar manner, the whole plant being from 15 cm. to 30 cm. in height. The leaves are soft and slightly succulent, but not sufficiently so for water to be squeezed out of them. They are crowded into rosettes at the extremities of the branches, the internodes being very short. The whole plant is of a greyish colour, and puts one in mind of the biennial stock (Matthiola incana). The roots are stout, strong, and woody, and form, with their rootlets, a mat, which lays hold firmly of the adjacent soil. As to the duration of life of C. featherstonii, there seems little doubt but that the plant is a perennial. At Maturakau Myosotidium nobile grows in large clumps near those of C. featherstonii (Plate XV.), all the rest of the ground being covered by Mesembryanthemum australe, which also hangs in sheets from the adjacent cliffs. On Te Whakaru Island a few plants of Phormium tenax on the peat and others on the rocks testify to the former greater abundance of this plant;

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indeed, the whole formation, especially as seen at Te Whakaru, must have been enormously modified.

Limestone Cliffs and Rocks.

These cliffs bound the shore of the great lagoon in various places, while often rocks extend from their base into the water. At one time the base of the cliffs was laved by the waters of the ocean, so that they are closely related to maritime cliffs. From such cliffs, as before described, they differ in their inland position and consequent freedom from the influence of salt water, also in the very different nature of the rock. Many of their plant inhabitants are doubtless part of the original flora, while others have come from the neighbouring inland formations, their seeds blown into crevices of the rocks or brought by birds, while the xerophytic structure of the plants has enabled them to hold their own in such a position.

Taking the case of New Zealand, it seems well established that sea-coast plants can continue to occupy an inland ancient maritime station. Mr. T. Kirk has called attention to such an instance (422), and I have also shown that Angelica geniculata occurs at the lower Waimakariri Gorge, on the upper Canterbury Plains (102, p. 101), a station which Captain Hutton brings good evidence to show was formerly maritime (332).

As in all rock-formations, there is here no struggle for existence amongst the plants. Any plant which can gain a foothold will be unmolested by its neighbours. Many parts of the cliffs are quite bare; others are clothed with a fairly abundant vegetation. Very characteristic of this formation is Veronica dieffenbachii, the branches of which spread out laterally or hang downwards from a thick main stem firmly embedded in some crevice. Its leaves are confined to the extremities of the branches. They are rather thick and fleshy, 6.5 cm. long by 1.9 cm. broad. The shoots, unlike those of V. chathamica, are not at all dorsi-ventral, and the branches are so extremely pliant that a twig 4 mm. in diameter can be rolled round and round the finger without breaking. Other plants growing in company with V. dieffenbachii are—Linum monogynum var. chathamicum, its white flowers striped or flaked with pale-blue; Senecio lautus; Phormium tenax; Leucopogon richei; Acœna novœ-zelandiœ. In hollows in the cliff Adiantum affine is very abundant, while in some places its delicate fronds form great sheets of greenery on the rocks. Geranium traversii, another common plant of this formation, can thrive in extremely dry positions; for example, I noted it growing on a perfectly dry limestone rock near the margin of the lagoon. Its roots are very thick and stout; one example measured was 1.5 cm. in diameter, and at 10 cm. from the

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base of the root 7.5 mm. This particular root was 70 cm. long, and three other roots of nearly equal length and thickness were given off from the root axis. The main stem is usually very short and stout; in one case measured it was 1 cm. long and 9 mm. in diameter. From this stem arise radical leaves and trailing stems. The radical leaves are furnished with very thick petioles, 6.5 mm. in length and 4 mm. in diameter. The petioles are pale-pink in colour, especially below, and densely pubescent with short white hairs; at the base they are sheathing, and furnished with triangular stipules. The leaf-blade is reniform-orbicular and deeply lobed, rather thick, and on each surface is covered with pubescence, which gives it a somewhat silvery appearance. Cultivated specimens, which have originated from self-sown seed in my garden, have the leaves much less succulent than the wild plant, the petioles very much longer, more slender, and without a trace of the red colouring.

Limestone Forest.

The limestone cliffs do not form an unbroken precipitous wall all round the lagoon, but they are separated by steep banks and hollows, arising probably from weathering of the original rock. In such places certain trees grow in association, so as to form small woods. The under-growth of these woods is almost entirely destroyed by the ravages of stock, and possibly the proportion of the species of trees is no longer what it originally was. But what gives special interest to the formation is the presence of Sophora chathamica. Regarding this tree Mr. H. H Travers wrote (51, p. 178): “In connection with the recent introduction of the New Zealand pigeon,* I may mention that in a small tract of bush on the margin of the great lagoon I found three trees of the Edwardsia microphylla, all growing close together, and being the only specimens of that plant which I saw on either island. They were not in flower or fruit at the time. They were apparently all of equal age, and were about 5 in. in diameter and 15 ft. in height. Mr. Hunt, to whom I pointed them out, stated that he had never seen the plant before. During my residence at Pitt Island I was in the habit of examining the coast of the bay in which Mr. Hunt's house is situated twice a day for some months, and on one occasion I saw a sawn plank of totara, and on another a seed of the Edwardsia, which had evidently been washed from New Zealand. The

[Footnote] * I may point out that the pigeon is a distinct species from that of New Zealand (see remarks on this species, Carpophaga chathamiensis, Rothschild, by Sir W. Buller, in Trans. N.Z. Inst., 1892, vol. xxiv., p. 80).

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seed was hard and apparently sound. I gave it to Mr. Hunt, who sowed it, but I have not yet heard the result.” This statement of Travers's has seemed so reasonable that Mr. Hemsley writes of “the doubtful occurrence” of Sophora in the Chatham Islands (28). That S. chathamica is indigenous in Chatham Island there can, however, be no doubt. Even if, unaided by man in any way, it had arrived a few years before Mr. Travers's visit it would have been indigenous, of course; but it has probably occupied Chatham Island since that land was first colonised by its arborescent plant inhabitants. It occurs abundantly in all the small woods along the lagoon, and in quite as great a proportion as the other trees. Moreover, its seedling form is different from that of any other species or variety of the genus, as I pointed out some years ago (9, p. 337); and so far as I have been able to ascertain, both from Mr. Cox and from personal observation, it does not at any period of its existence assume a xerophytic habit of growth (10, p. 279). Concerning this latter matter, as mentioned towards the end of this paper, I hope before long to make a definite statement. The other forest trees found in conjunction with S. chathamica are Plagianthus chathamicus, Pseudopanax chathamicus, Coprosma chathamica, Olearia traversii, Myrsine chathamica, and Corokia macrocarpa, of which the Sophora, the Plagianthus, and the Pseudopanax are the most abundant.

Why S. chathamica should be confined to the limestone and found in no other part of Chatham Island, when a closely allied species grows abundantly over volcanic rock in New Zealand, is a very difficult question to answer. It may simply be that it cannot compete in a wet position with the other forest trees, and that the limestone forest is drier than any of the other forest-formations on the island. At any rate, it is a very striking example of the local distribution of a plant, and of how a fall of a few metres in the general level of Chatham Island would probably exterminate the species. The seeds of Sophora found on the beaches by Travers and others were most likely merely from the trees by the lagoon, and had never come from New Zealand at all.


If a portion of the sea be cut off from the main body of water by an enclosing barrier of sand a lagoon is the result, of which Te Whanga is the most important example. Its waters are usually shallow for a considerable depth from the shore, and so are favourable for plant-life; but, being brackish, only a limited number of phaneroganis can exist in this station, while frequent winds agitate the surface of the water to such a degree that only those plants specially adapted to

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resist the action of waves can exist. In consequence the lagoons of Chatham Island possess only a very small phanerogamic flora; nor so far as observed were Algœ, numerous. Ruppia maritima often occupies large portions of such shallow places in lagoons, and its leaves and stems, floating at times on the surface of the water, form a mat of such density as to have attracted the attention of the Maoris, who call it the “eels’ blanket.” The floor of the lagoons consists of sand or of sandy peaty mud, formed from the decay of many generations of plants. Such muddy peat is the commencement of a transition from the bed of a lagoon to salt meadow, for as it gradually accumulates it rises out of the water and becomes at once occupied by an abundant plant population. Such a spot forms the line of tension between lagoon and salt meadow. In several places Te Whanga Lagoon is, as before pointed out, sufficiently shallow to be crossed on horseback, the depth of water at the crossing varying according to the direction of the wind; and with a north-west wind blowing in summer it may be quite dry, and clouds of dust and sand mark its position. On this portion of the lagoon-bed large round patches of Samolus repens are abundant; so here is one of the most characteristic of salt-meadow plants taking possession of the ground almost before the station is fit to receive it. A very slight rise indeed of the land and the bed of the lagoon would be transformed by nature into salt meadow, which probably might be succeeded by forest, especially if the land were elevated a little more. It is also easily conceivable how such a lagoon could be transformed into a bog, and it seems very probable indeed that the low-lying boggy ground in the north-west of the island has had this origin, as suggested by Haast (23).


The vegetation of the lagoon-shore, as shown above, is not directly related to that of the sea-shore proper, but is rather an embryonic salt meadow. of course, originally, before the lagoon was cut off from the ocean, it must have been true sea-shore, though possibly its plants might even then have been affected by the lime in the soil.

I had only an opportunity of examining a portion of the western shore in one or two places, and have no notes at all regarding the eastern shore. The soil consists of sandy peat usually very wet, but varying considerably in its water-content. That portion within reach of the wash of the waves is sopping wet, and so soft that one cannot tread on it without sinking halfway to one's knees. There Crantzia lineata grows most luxuriantly, forming large green masses. Callitriche muelleri, Limosella aquatica, var. tenuifolia, Cotula,

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muelleri, Cotula coronopifolia, and Eleocharis gracillima are also abundant, and form a kind of turf on the peaty mud. Drier parts of the shore are occupied by thickets of Urtica australis, while in other places are very large patches of Samolus repens. Where the shore is drier still, and altogether out of reach of the water at any time, is a grassy flat made up of certain grasses, of which I have no specimens—Cotula muelleri, Samolus repens, Selliera radicans, Crantzia lineata, Pratia arenaria, and probably a number of other plants not specially noted.

Salt Meadow.

Along the great lagoon, especially on its eastern side, are large stretches of flat land bordered on the east by forest, at one time probably the bed of the lagoon, but now, so far as I can remember, salt meadow. Unfortunately, I had no opportunity of examining this interesting formation, and so must leave it undescribed for the present.

Running Water.

Chatham Island, with its many lagoons, lakes, and streams, might reasonably be expected to contain a considerable number of phanerogamic water plants. On the contrary, as pointed out by Travers (51, p. 177), these are by no means plentiful. Most of the streams are very sluggish, their slowly moving water is of a dark-brown colour, and their bed a deep layer of peaty mud. During the rains of winter they often overflow, and so give rise to numerous swamps of greater or less extent, which, if in a forest, contain the characteristic swampy forest trees. Such streams sometimes contain no vegetation beyond certain Algœ; in others Myriophyllum elatinoides and Polygonum minus, var. decipiens, grow in company with one another; while in the very still pools of forest streams Callitriche muelleri is sometimes abundant, growing at 0.5 m. or more below the surface of the water and extending on to the damp floor of the forest. Potamogeton natans is by no means common, though it is occasionally met with in shallow streams and in pools formed from their overflow. The introduced watercress (Nasturtium officinale) is abundant in many of the small streams, but it does not seem to attain to anything like the same dimensions as in certain South Island waters. On the margin of the streams, growing right in the water, are usually a number of swamp plants—Carices, Coprosma propinqua, Arundo conspicua, &c.—or, if the stream be within a belt of trees on the tableland, Myrsine coxii is often abundant, growing right in the water. A station of this kind offers much the same conditions as a swamp, but is more favourable for plant-life, the constantly moving water preventing

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stagnation. Rapidly flowing streams are very rare, and, unfortunately, I have no notes regarding their plant-life.


The swamp formation occurs principally in the lowest portions of the central and northern part of Chatham Island, in the immediate vicinity of lakes, lagoons, or sluggish streams, and is distinctly a transition, in some cases, between lake and forest; indeed, the line of tension may be often observed where swamp and forest plants intermingle. The swamp at the southern end of Lake Huro is easy to examine, and is of especial interest, since it offers every transition from the waters of the lake to the ordinary lowland forest. The vegetation of the swamp seems determined by the average depth of the water which more or less covers its floor. Where the water is deepest there is to all intents and purposes an original formation, for the ground is altogether too boggy to permit the inroads of cattle; but in all other parts the trampling of cattle and horses has consolidated the ground more or less and reduced its water-content, thus making it suitable for other plants, both indigenous and introduced. The floor of the swamp in its unchanged portions consists of black peaty mud, upon which it would probably not be safe to walk. Everywhere are large pools of water, 50 cm., more or less, in depth; while in winter the whole floor of the swamp, I learn from Mr. Cox, is under water. Here there are no shrubs of any kind. The vegetation consists of the curious restiaceous plant Leptocarpus simplex, a well-marked xerophyte, which in New Zealand occurs in salt meadows and sand-dunes (122, p. 119). In this formation Leptocarpus often forms very large patches, to the complete exclusion of every other plant. Growing near but not mixed with the Leptocarpus is Carex secta* in great quantities, its “trunk” composed in large part of dead rhizomes and roots matted together, on the summit of which the living plant, raised out of the water, can avoid excess of moisture, sending its roots far down into the decayed and semi-decayed “trunk.”

As the water of the swamp decreases in quantity the ground becomes quite covered with vegetation and decaying vegetable matter. There the floor is very uneven, with its many mounds of peat and decaying vegetation separated from one another by holes full of water. In such a part of the swamp Coprosma propinqua is very abundant, making a sub-

[Footnote] * Pastor G. Kukenthal, who is preparing an account of the genera Carex and Uncinia for “Das Pflanzenreich,” informs me that he considers C. secta distinct from the European C. paniculata, to which Cheeseman had previously referred it as a variety (8).

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formation which occurs so frequently on the island as to have attracted the notice of the settlers, who call it “Mingimingi scrub.” Mixed with the Coprosma are the tall grass Arundo conspicua, Phormium tenax, Carex secta, Carex forsteri(?), Deschampsia cœspitosa, and quantities of Epilobium pallidiflorum, E. billardierianum, E. chionanthum var., and a large species of Astelia which is perhaps new.

As soon as the swamp becomes a shade drier small trees make their appearance, and this point is evidently the line of tension between swamp and forest. The first tree to appear is the xerophytic Olearia traversii; then Dracophyllum arboreum becomes abundant, mixed with Coriaria ruscifolia, Pseudopanax chathamica, and Myrsine coxii. Hymenanthera chathamica and Senecio huntii also occur to some extent. Mixed with this arborescent vegetation are all the swamp plants mentioned before, Leptocarpus simplex excepted, and large quantities of the fern Lomaria procera. Such a “scrub” is often extremely dense, and almost impossible to be traversed. On the banks of Sandstone Creek a very dense formation of this kind, almost in its virgin state, may be seen.

As the water-content of the swamp gradually decreases, through accumulations of vegetable matter becoming peat, so do the trees become more and more numerous, until finally, as in the case of Lake Huro, mentioned above, a true forest makes its appearance. The trees of the formation need not be reduced to mere shrubs; on the contrary, the Pseudopanax, Coriaria, and others, attain in the Huro Swamp a height of 6 m. Wherever a sluggish stream flows through a lowland forest, and at times inundates the neighbouring ground, the character of the forest changes, and a formation of Corynocarpus lœvigata, Coprosma chathamica, Rhopalostylis baueri(?), Hymenanthera chathamica, and Myrsine chathamica changes to one of Myrsine coxii, Dracophyllum arboreum, and Olearia traversii, this latter plant being of more lowly growth than when growing in the drier forest.

Those of the swamp plants which differ little from the New Zealand forms of the same species growing under similar conditions need not be further dealt with here; Dracophyllum arboreum and Senecio huntii are treated of at some length further on, when dealing with the “tableland forest,” so there only remains Myrsine coxii for special mention. This is a rather twiggy shrub, attaining under favourable circumstances a height of 3 m. or 4 m. Its leaves are close together, and form rather a dense mass at the ends of the branches. They are small, averaging about 1.8 cm., including the leaf-stalk, by 8 mm., and are narrow-obovate in shape. The fruit is of a beautiful mauve colour, and was doubtless originally distributed by means of native birds. These latter,

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however, are for the most part nearly extinct, so this method of distribution no longer exists. However, as Mr. G. M. Thomson points out for New Zealand, introduced birds (50, p. 317) are now playing a most important rcle in the spread of plants; indeed, they may very well supply the place of the indigenous birds in this particular. Myrsine coxii is the first of all the Chatham Island trees to come into bloom, flowering as it does from the end of July.

Most of the swamp formation of Chatham Island has been much modified through consolidation of the soil consequent on the trampling of cattle and horses, which also destroy the trees which otherwise would seize on the “reclaimed” ground; so instead of following its natural course and becoming a forest the swamp becomes gradually transformed into meadow land, in which certain native and introduced plants which are not destroyed by the grazing of animals become dominant and form a turf.

Lowland Forest.

The climate of Chatham Island is distinctly a “forest climate” (48, p. 178)—that is, the whole island would be covered with forest were the edaphic conditions suitable. These conditions vary much for different kinds of trees, but, generally speaking, the soil must be deep enough for the trees to become firmly fixed; it must be firm, but loose enough to contain a sufficiency of oxygen; it must be well watered, but not saturated with water; and there must be enough drainage to forbid stagnation. In addition, humus is usually present in large quantities, while nitrifying bacteria and various fungi abound. Finally, there must not be too great a quantity of inorganic salts or of humic acids in the soil (53, p. 292). From the above it is easy to see the reason why, notwithstanding its forest climate, so much of Chatham Island is without trees, since so large an area is occupied by swamps, bogs, and wet ground. It is not quite so easy to understand how a large area quite suitable for tree-life is also treeless, being occupied chiefly by the fern Pteris esculenta. In the section of this paper dealing with burning of the vegetation an explanation of this anomaly is suggested.

The lowland forest of Chatham Island, though consisting of trees very much smaller in their dimensions than those which make up the forests of New Zealand, are distinctly forests nevertheless, and not mere assemblages of large shrubs. Below, all the trees have bare trunks, sometimes of considerable thickness, and above, spreading branches covered with abundant foliage. Seen from a distance the forest is blackish-green in colour, but not nearly of so dark a hue as is the sub-alpine Fagus forest of New Zealand. If a forest be viewed

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from an eminence, so that the tree-tops can be looked down upon, it will be noticed that these form a compact and level mass of greenery, no one tree rising above its fellows. Within the forest the customary shrubby growths of the New Zealand mixed forest are absent; here, indeed, are no shrubs of any kind, if Piper excelsum be excepted, their place being taken up entirely by tree ferns, many of which are of very great dimensions. The ground itself may be bare, or covered with ferns or various lowly plants. On the stems of the tree ferns grow many epiphytes, seedling plants, and even young trees of no small size. Two lianes, Rhipogonum scandens and Muhlenbeckia adpressa, climb to the tree-tops and mingle their foliage with that of the trees, while the bamboo-like stems of the former and the rope-like stems of the latter form at times a complete entanglement which it is very difficult to penetrate.

The soil of the forest consists sometimes of “red clay,” sometimes of peaty loam, or, in the case of the coastal forest, of sand underlaid by peaty loam, while a considerable surface layer of humus, resulting from the decaying vegetation, is always present. The trees, with one exception, are evergreen, their leaves numerous, of fair size, and in some cases rather thick. Here and there the palm, Rhopalostylis baueri(?), raises up its huge and graceful leaves to the light through the leafy canopy. The dense foliage of the tree-tops tends to keep the interior of the forest moist and its atmosphere damp. This is plainly manifest by the filmy ferns, liverworts, and mosses, formerly common in many places, but now somewhat rare in lowland forests; indeed, their presence or absence may be taken as a measure of the average humidity of the atmosphere.

As is well known, the New Zealand lowland forest consists usually of a very great number of trees and shrubs, but that of the Chatham Islands, on the contrary, consists of quite a few species, and these occur in remarkably equal quantities. To enumerate them in what is perhaps their order of most frequent occurrence these are: (1) Corynocarpus lœvigata, (2) Olearia traversii, (3) Coprosma chathamica, (4) Hymenanthera chathamica, (5) Myrsine chathamica, (6) Corokia macrocarpa, (7) Pseudopanax chathamica, (8) Veronica gigantea, (9) Piper excelsum, (10) Rhopalostylis baueri(?). Besides the above, Plagianthus chathamicus is abundant in some localities. This is a very different combination indeed from that of any New Zealand forest. of the eleven trees six are endemic, the palm is perhaps the same as that of the Kermadecs, Hymenanthera chathamica is recorded from only one locality in New Zealand, and Myrsine chathamica from one station in Stewart Island. All the trees vary in-size according to the character of the soil and extent of the forest. In

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the “bush.” between Te Whanga and Petre Bay there are trees 15 m. in height or more, but usually they are smaller, and vary from 6 m. to 13 m. On the outskirts of the forest, and occasionally within its interior, especially in very wet ground, Senecio huntii and Dracophyllum arboreum occur in greater or less abundance. These do not properly belong to this formation at all, and such portions may perhaps be looked upon as remnants of a former tableland forest.

Although the conditions under which the lowland forest plant - formation exists are distinctly hygrophytic, and the formation a hygrophytic one, belonging to Schimper's great class of “rain forests,” yet that part of the formation which is exposed to almost constant and often very severe winds—viz., the tree-tops—shows in its general form and in the structure of the leaves of most of its members certain xerophytic adaptations. Thus the general closeness of the tree-tops, the density of the foliage, the remarkable uniformity of height of the trees, and the lowness of their growth are in direct relation to the strong sea-breezes which by turns strike the forest from every side. Such direct action of the wind is very markedly shown in those isolated groves of Corynocarpus lœvigata which have been left in certain places when the remainder of the forest has been destroyed by human agency, their branches and leaves on the windward side forming a dense flattened mass, in striking contrast to the more open growth on the sheltered side.

Regarding the leaves themselves of the forest trees, those of Corynocarpus lœvigata are in appearance not unlike those of the North American Magnolia grandiflora. They are rather thick and leathery, bright-green in colour, oblong-lanceolate or sometimes obovate in shape. Their size varies; certain leaves measured varied in size of blade from 12 cm. by 6 cm. to 9 cm. by 5.4 cm. The epidermis is three-layered. Pseudopanax chathamica has thick leaves, dark dull-green in colour on the upper surface, but much paler beneath. The leaf-blade measures 15 cm. or 16 cm. by 3.6 cm., and points upwards at an angle of about 45° to the axis of the shoot. The petiole is short and very stout. There is a four- or sometimes three-layered epidermis on the upper surface; the outer wall of the first layer is strongly cuticularized. Myrsine chathamica has leaves rather thick and leathery, obovate or obovate-oblong, their lamina 5.5 cm. by 3 cm., rather dull-green in colour, and crowded at the ends of the branches. Corokia macrocarpa has leaves lanceolate or oblong - lanceolate in shape, with the lamina 7.2 cm. by 3 cm., or rather shorter, and the upper surface of a shining dark-green colour. The under-surface is white, with very dense tomentum. The margin of the leaf or the

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sides of the lamina are often much recurved or rolled back, rendering the under-surface of the leaf concave. The epidermis has a much-thickened outer wall, and the cells are equal in length to those of the palisade parenchyma, while their long axis is at right angles to the surface of the leaf. Hymenanthera chathamica* has lanceolate leaves, which are thick and coriaceous, and the lamina is 8 cm. by 2.7 cm., more or less. They are of a rather pale-green colour. The epidermis of the upper surface is three-layered, the lateral walls of the two inner layers being very thin. A stereome sheath surrounds the vascular bundles, and adjacent to some of them is a colourless water-tissue. Coprosma chathamica has leaves rather thinner in texture than most of the other forest trees, oblong or obovate in shape and variable in size, the lamina often being about 4.9 cm. by 2.3 cm. They are dark-green and shining on the upper surface, and very pale on the under-surface. The small pits (“Domatia”) common on the under-surface of the leaf of Coprosmas, and first called attention to by Cheeseman (7), at the junction of a vein with the midrib, are very distinct. Mr. Hamilton has written about them more recently (32), but has added nothing to our knowledge of their function. The epidermis is two-layered, and a transverse section of the leaf shows a layer of water-tissue stretching from the epidermal cells to the vascular bundles through the palisade parenchyma. Veronica gigantea has narrow-lanceolate, quite sessile leaves, averaging probably about 8.3 cm. by 1.8 cm. They are soft, bright-green in colour on the upper surface, thicker in texture than any form of V. salicifolia with which I am acquainted, and crowded together rather closely at the ends of the branches. Piper excelsum is distinctly a hygrophyte. It has very thin dark-green leaves, with their laminæ 10.6 cm. long by 9.3 cm. broad, and the apex drawn out to a fine point.

With the exception of O. traversii and Corokia macrocarpa, the former having multitudes of white daisy-like flower-heads, and the latter many small but bright-yellow flowers, the trees of the lowland forest have very inconspicuous blooms. Their fruits, on the contrary, are often large and showy. For example, Corynocarpus lœvigata has great clusters of very large fruits, each measuring 4 cm. by 2 cm.; Myrsine chathamica has the naked branches below the leaves covered with most beautiful mauve-coloured drupes, which, according to Mr. Cox, take fully a year to develope their brilliant colour. The bare stems of Hymenanthera chathamica are similarly covered with large white berries. Corokia macrocarpa is frequently

[Footnote] * Diels's figure of the anatomy of the leaf of H. latifolia (16, p. 230) shows almost identical structure with that of the Chatham Isl