Transactions Of The New Zealand Institute.

As I have previously suggested (1909, p. 621), the small side lobes at the end of the second basal joint of the upper antenna, which were first noticed by Walker, appear to be for the support of the rest of the antenna, allowing it to move freely in a vertical plane but not from side to side. In a similar way there is a slight hollow or depression on the upper surface of the inner branch of uropod 3 formed on the outer side of the ridge mentioned above, and into this the outer branch fits closely when it is not in use (see fig. 5). Analogous structures will probably be found in other Amphipoda of similar habits.

Ampelisca eschrichtii (Kroyer).

Ampelisca eschrichtii Chilton, 1917, p. 75.

In the Index Faunae Zealandiae two species of Ampelisca are put down as found in New Zealand, A. chiltoni and A. acinaces, both described by Stebbing in the report on the “Challenger.” Amphipoda. In the paper quoted above I attempt to show that these are only forms of the species long known in Arctic seas as A. eschrichtii Kröyer, and that A. macrocephala Liljeborg should also be considered as belonging to this species. The species is widely distributed both in Arctic and in Antarctic seas, where it may attain a length of 34 mm. In intermediate seas it is represented by forms of smaller size, in which the distinctive characters of the species are less evident.

Urothoides lachneëssa (Stebbing).

Urothoe lachneëssa Stebbing, 1888, p. 825, pl. 57. Urothoides lachneëssa Stebbing, 1906, p. 132.

This species was described from specimens obtained from Kerguelen Island by the “Challenger” Expedition. I have a specimen, washed on to the shore of Stewart Island and sent to me by Mr. Walter Traill, that I feel confident belongs to the same species. The specimen had been dried and somewhat shrivelled, but by mounting it in dissected form sufficient of the appendages can be made out to render the identification pretty certain. The first and second gnathopods agree closely with Stebbing's figure except that in the first the propod is narrower. The first, second, and third peraeopods are also closely similar. The fourth and fifth cannot be distinctly made out, but appear to agree except in having fewer setae. One of the uropods also can be seen to agree with Stebbing's figure.

This appears to be the first specimen that has been seen since the original ones were taken by the “Challenger.”

Parapherusa crassipes (Haswell).

Harmonia crassipes Haswell, 1879, p. 330, pl. 19, fig. 3. Parapherusa crassipes Stebbing, 1906, p. 383; Chilton, 1916, p. 199, pls. 8–10.

This is a species widely distributed in Australia and New Zealand, and for some time there was an uncertainty as to its systematic position. It seems, however, rightly placed under the genus Parapherusa in the family Gammaridae, to which it was assigned by Stebbing. A full account of its external structure and of the marked sexual differences is given in the last of the references quoted above.

Eurysthens haswelli (G. M. Thomson).

Maera haswelli G. M. Thomson, 1897, p. 449, pl. 10, figs. 6–10.

Wyvillea haswelli Stebbing, 1899, p, 350, and 1906, p. 648.

In Mr. Thomson's collection are two imperfect specimens labelled “Maera haswelli G. M. T., Bay of Islands, 8 fathoms,” which are presumably co-types of his species. These are identical with specimens from

Akaroa and Lyttelton obtained years ago, and provisionally labelled as an undescribed species of Eurystheus. Stebbing in 1899 placed the species under Wyvillea, a genus of doubtful validity, and retained it in the same position in 1906. The species is, however, quite evidently a Eurystheus and comes near to E. dentifer (Haswell); the third side plate in the male is produced anteriorly below that of the second gnathopod in the same way as described for Paranaenia typica Chilton (1884, p. 259), a species which Stebbing considers a synonym of Eurystheus dentifer (Haswell).

In addition to the Bay of Islands specimens I have others of E. haswelli from Lyttelton; Akaroa; Longbeach, near Otago Harbour; Stewart Island; Chatham Islands; and also one from Port Jackson, New South, Wales, sent to me in 1918 by Professor W. A. Haswell.

Eurystheus crassipes (Haswell).

Maera crassipes Haswell, 1880, p. 103, pl. 7, fig. 2. Eurystheus crassipes Stebbing, 1906, p. 612.

I have specimens from Wellington and Auckland Harbours that evidently belong to this species, which was described from Port Jackson and Jervis Bay in Australia by Haswell; it is well characterized by the large size and breadth of the fourth peraeopod, and has rightly been placed in Eurystheus by Stebbing. The species has not hitherto been recorded from New Zealand.

Eurystheus chiltoni (G. M. Thomson).

Maera chiltoni G. M. Thomson, 1897, p. 447, pl. 10, figs. 1–5. Eurystheus chiltoni Stebbing, 1906, p. 617. Eurystheus longicornis Walker, 1907, p. 35, pl. 12, fig. 21.

This species was described by Mr. Thomson from specimens dredged in the Bay of Islands. I have a specimen from Mokohinou, found by Mr. C. R. Gow on seaweed at a depth of 25 fathoms. I think there is no doubt that E. longicornis (Walker) is the same species; the descriptions agree generally, and the drawing given by Walker of the second gnathopod of the male agrees well with my specimen from Mokohinou and also with co-types of Mr. Thomson's species which I have been able to examine. Walker's specimens were collected at the winter quarters of the “Discovery” in McMurdo Strait during the National Antarctic Expedition, 1901–4.

Eurystheus dentatus (Chevreux).

Gammaropsis dentata Chevreux, 1900, p. 93, pl. 12, fig. 1. Eurystheus afer Chilton, 1912, p. 510, pl. ii, figs. 30–34.

I have a few specimens of Eurystheus that I have had some difficulty in identifying. I find, however, in the better-developed specimens that the lower margin of the first side plate is distinctly dentate, as described and figured by Chevreux for the species named above, and the general agreement in other characters shows that they must be referred to that species. In the New Zealand specimens, both in the male and the female, the gnathopoda are more elongated and slender than those figured by Chevreux, but in others from the Kermadec Islands which seem to be otherwise the same the gnathopoda are stouter and like those of Chevreux' specimens. The New Zealand specimens are certainly the same as those from Gough Island collected by the “Scotia” “Expedition that I referred with much hesitation to E. afer Stebbing in 1912, and in two the merus of one or more of the last three pairs of peraeopoda is expanded in the same way as it is in one of the Gough Island specimens, though not quite to the same extent.

Art. II.—Contributions to a Fuller Knowledge of the Flora of New Zealand. No. 7.

By T. F. Cheeseman, F.L.S., F.Z.S., F.N.Z.Inst., Curator of the Auckland Museum.

by Mr. T. Kirk, under the name of F. contracta (Trans. N.Z. Inst., vol. 27, p. 353). Kirk had only two very indifferent specimens to-deal with; but, fortunately, Mr. H. Hamilton secured a fair number of specimens. An examination of these proved that the plant was either very closely allied to the Fuegian and Kerguelen Festuca erecta D'Urville or positively identical with it. There being no authenticated specimens of F.erecta in New Zealand, I applied to Dr. Stapf, of the Kew Herbarium, with the, view of having a comparison made. This he has kindly done, with the result of proving that the Macquarie Island plant is identical with F. erecta. This is practically a circumpolar species, having been recorded from Fuegia, Falkland Islands, South Georgia, and Kerguelen Island.

Cyathea medullaris Swartz.

I am not aware that any actual measurements of the height of this species have been published. In books it is usually given as “from 10 ft. to 40 ft. high,” but it certainly attains a much greater height. With the view of putting some definite information on record, I induced Mr. E. Le Roy to measure the height of two fine specimens growing in a ravine on his property at Birkenhead. He informs me that the smaller of the two is 39 ft. to the crown; the other one being 46 ft. to the crown, and 50 ft. to the top of the fronds. As I have seen taller specimens, we can safely conclude that it occasionally reaches between 60 ft. and 65 ft. in height.

Dicksonia squarrosa Swartz

Mr. Le Roy has also been kind enough to measure the height of two specimens of Dicksonia squarrosa. The higher one measured 23 ft. 8 in. to the crown, and 27 ft. to the top of the fronds; the other proved to be 19 ft. 6 in. to the crown and 21 ft. to the top of the fronds.

Nothochlaena distans R. Br.

The late Mr. H C. Field, in his book, Ferns of New Zealand (p. 88, and pl. xxviii, fig. 4), alludes to a supposed new Cheilanthes collected by Mr. A. C. Purdie near Dunedin. The description given is inconclusive, and the figure does not show sufficient detail to enable the generic position of the plant to be made out. In default of any specimens I consequently did not allude to it in the Manual.

Rather more than a year ago, however, Professor A. Wall forwarded a specimen of a fern collected in clefts in basaltic rocks at Diamond Harbour, a bay of Port Lyttelton, suggesting that it might prove to be Mr. Field's plant. In this view I concurred, but as the specimen showed no signs of sori it was impossible to fix its systematic position. Professor Wall has now forwarded an ample series of specimens in all stages, proving, as he says, that the plant is only a shade form of Nothochlaena distans. It usually occurred in deep crevices entirely shaded from the sun, and is consequently not so rigid nor so well covered with linear scales as the typical state, which is frequently seen in dry situations in the Auckland lava-fields. In the ramification of the frond, and in the position and character of the sori, the two plants are practically identical.

Naturalized Plants.

Eschscholtzia californica Cham.

This plant, which is sparingly naturalized as a garden escape, appears to be poisonous to stock, judging from the following particulars supplied to me by Mr. T. H. Trevor, of Pakaraka, Bay of Islands. He

Art. III—Descriptions of New Native Flowering-plants.

By D. Petrie, M.A., Ph.D., F.N.Z.Inst.

[Read before the Auckland Institute, 22nd December, 1919; received by Editor, 31st December, 1919; issued separately, 4th June, 1920.]

Pittosporum Matthewsii sp. nov.

Planta P. virgatae T. Kirk affinis; differt foliis confertis, maturis linearioblongis subacutis glabris a marginibus undulatis; capsulis longioribus subacute obovatis, ± 1.8 cm. longis, circa 1 cm. latis, valvis duabus nec canaliculatis nec latere depressis atris undique lacunosis.

A small compactly branched tree, 20–25 ft. high, with black bark.

Juvenile state: Branches and twigs slender, the latter closely covered with greyish-white pubescence; leaves rather closely placed, patent, narrow-linear, ± 2 cm. long, ± 2 mm. wide, subacute entire or slightly waved at the margins, glabrous or nearly so, little coriaceous, somewhat recurved at the edges when dried, midrib evident below, rather obscure above, the upper surface dark green and polished, paler below; very young leaves brownish-green and more or less closely clothed with white semipubescent hairs; petioles very short and slender.

Mature state: Twigs more or less closely scarred by the bases of the fallen leaves; leaves rather closely placed, linear-oblong or narrow obovate-oblong, ± 4 cm. long, 5–8 mm. wide, subacute, glabrous except the sub-floral which are closely covered with brownish-yellow tomentum, moderately coriaceous, entire, flat or more or less wavy at the margins (rarely obscurely sinuate-dentate near the tips), the lower surface paler with conspicuous dark-red midrib and veins, above more or less polished with midrib obscure and veins obsolete, edges slightly recurved when dried; petioles very short and slender.

Flowers terminal, solitary or in compact umbels of 6 or fewer, rather small, ± 7 mm. long; peduncles not longer than the flowers, densely clothed, as are also the sepals, with brownish-yellow tomentum; sepals linear-lanceolate, acute; petals dark red, narrow-cuneate, obtuse, sharply recurved over the tips of the sepals; pistil as long as the flower, pilosely pubescent below the style. Mature capsules subacutely obovate or sub-pyriform, ± 1.8 cm. long, about 1 cm. broad above the middle, obtuse or broadly subacute, shortly apiculate, glabrous, 2-valved, the valves nearly semicircular in cross-section and neither grooved nor ribbed, black-pitted all over.

Hab.—-Kennedy Bay, Coromandel Peninsula: H. B. Matthews !

The close placing of the leaves, their linear-oblong outline, and the distinctive size and shape of the mature capsule clearly distinguish this species from P. virgatum. I have seen nothing to indicate any variation in the form of the juvenile leaves, but as I have not seen the plants growing I cannot be certain that such variation does not occur.

Uncinia longifructus (Kük.) Petrie sp. nov.

U. laxe caespitosa v. ± diffusa; culmi 12–20 cm. longi filiformes teretes stricti glabri leviter canaliculati. Folia peranguste linearia plana v. ± complicata tenuia flaccida longe vaginantia vix canaliculata, carina subtus conspicua. Spiculae breves pauciflorae ± 1 cm. longae ± 5 mm. latae;

it was founded on a single specimen, and refers it to U. compacta R. Br. Mr. C. B. Clarke ranks it as a variety of the latter. The U. nervosa in Cheeseman's Manual seems to me in no way closely related to the Kelly's Hill plant. The figure of Boott's species in Flora Tasmanica is a poor one, and affords little help in identifying it.

Uncinia caespitosa Col. var. collina var. nov.

Rhizoma late stolonifera culmos plurifoliosos plerumque diffusos edens. Culmi foliaque quam in typo breviores. Folia culmis breviora vel eos aequantia, 10–20 cm. alta 4–6 mm. lata, plana suberecta coriacea, in apices incrassatos longe productos abeuntia. Spiculae 4–8 cm. longae ± 8 mm. latae, subclavatae, supra densiflorae, infra floribus laxioribus; glumae femineae utriculis nonnihil longiores; nux elliptico-oblonga.

Hab.—Mount Hikurangi (East Coast), at 4,800 ft.; Ruahine Mountains, at 3,500 ft.: B. C. Aston! Tararua Mountains (Mount Holdsworth), 3,200 ft.

This is a very distinct-looking form, and has considerable claim to specific rank. It forms large open somewhat sward-like patches, and never grows in distinct tufts, as the typical form usually does.

Carex secta Boott var. tenuiculmis var. nov.

Var. C. virgatae Sol. habitu subsimilis; a planta typica differt, culmis gracillimis haud raro filiformibus, foliis tenuibus perangustis flaccidis complanatis vel apicem versus concavis (costa media parum conspicua) 40–60 cm. longis culmos aequantibus vel excedentibus; inflorescentia 6–15 cm. longa simplici ± pendula spiculis plerumque remotis parvis pauci-floris sessilibus praedita vel a parte inferiore breviter ramosa (ramis paucis brevibus indivisis); rhachide pergracili vel filiformi; utridulis breviter stipitatis vel paene astipitatis.

Hab.—Damp localities in eastern and southern Otago: D. P. Damp localities in the Hammer and Castle Hill districts, North Canterbury: Arnold Wall! Damp localities in Chatham Islands: L. Cockayne! W. R. B. Oliver !

I am indebted to Professor Wall for drawing my attention to this interesting plant, which I had unwittingly placed in the same species-wrapper as C. virgata. From this it differs entirely in the structure of the utricles. A hand-and-eye examination will hardly disclose its true position. The Chatham Island specimens show only immature utricles, but I think their identity with the mainland plant cannot be doubted. They also show remarkably long leaves that greatly exceed the culms.

Poa novae-zelandiae Hackel var. Wallii var. nov.

A forma typica differt foliis coriaceis ± complanatis et a marginibus mvolutis incrassatisque muticis; panicula breviore folia haud vel vix excedente, a parte inferiore foliis ± abscondita; spiculis majoribus haud compressis; glumis florigeris latioribus trinerviis acutis haud incurvatis subcoriaceis; palea breviore ac latiore.

Hab.—Mount Miromiro (Amuri County): A. Wall ! Top of Mount Kyeburn (Maniototo County): H. J. Matthews! Mount Pisa (Vincent County).

The present plant appears to be confined to wet shingly stations, and ranges in altitude from about 3,500 ft. to 5,000 ft. or 6,000 ft. At the higher altitudes the plants are very dwarf.

Art. IV.—The Food Values of New Zealand Fish: Part I.

By (Mrs.)Dorothy E. Johnson, B.Sc. in Home Science.

mixed. Then, after a portion had been set aside for the estimation of the water and protein percentage, the rest was spread in thin layers on glass plates and dried, either over a low-temperature water-bath or in an oven maintained at 52° C. Some oxidation of the fat was unavoidable in this process. The dried material was minced again, passed through a fine sieve, and the larger pieces ground in a coffee-mill. The whole powder was carefully sifted and stored in a bottle. In the case of tarakihi 1 and mullet 1 further oxidation of the fat was noticeable in that part exposed to the light.

(II.) Percentage of Water and Solids.

This was carried out in a hot-air oven at 65°–70° C., the average of three estimations per sample being taken.

(III.) Percentage of Protein.

The total nitrogen was estimated on fresh material by the Kjeldahl method, 0.2 N solutions of acid and alkali being used. The protein was calculated as total nitrogen multiplied by 6.25, and the average of two estimations per sample taken.^*

(IV.) Percentage of Fat.

The dried powder from (I) was extracted with sulphuric ether in a Soxhlet extractor. After twelve hours' extraction the solvent was evaporated somewhat, the mixture filtered, the remainder of the ether carefully evaporated, and the oil finally dried for three hours or more at 52° C. The figure in the tables is the average of two estimations. (The water percentage of the powder was estimated, to obtain the amount of fresh material represented.)

(V.) Percentage of Ash.

This was carried out in the usual way with the dried material from (II) in a Davy's crucible furnace. The longer method of extracting the chlorides with distilled water after the first charring, and adding the residue after evaporation to the ash, was used at first but discontinued, as the results from the shorter method were found to vary but little from those of the longer method, and the greater accuracy seemed unnecessary, as the protein and fat estimations could only be approximate.

(VI.) Calculations.

From these results the following figures were calculated:—

Results.

The results are shown in the following tables (I-VI).

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

Discussion.

The following points are noticeable:—

1. The percentage of water and of solids shows much the same variation that similar analyses ^* of American and European food fishes have shown. Further, the analyses exhibit the fact that a high fat value goes with a low water percentage, the protein percentage fluctuating but little from the mean of 19.69. In the process of fattening, therefore, the water,

Art. V.—The Distillation of Waikaia Oil-shale.

By W. Donovan, M.Sc., and G. C. Burton.

Art. VI.—Sting-ray-liver Oil.

By W. Donovan, M.Sc.

[Read before the Wellington Philosophical Society, 3rd December, 1919; received by Editor, 31st December, 1919; issued separately, 4th June, 1920.]

Mr. Hoyle, of Thames, conducted some experiments in the extraction of oil from sting-ray livers, and a quantity of about 8 oz., which he obtained from the liver of a single fish, was examined at the-Dominion Laboratory in September, 1918. The sting-ray was probably Dasybatis brevicaudatus (Hutton).

The oil was compared with cod-liver oil, with the following results:—

The oil was free from rancidity, and quite palatable. It contained some “stearine,” which made it cloudy at low temperature, and which, in the case of cod-oil, is usually removed by cooling and filtering.

If the present sample were similarly treated the product would scarcely be distinguishable in appearance or composition from good cod-liver oil.

Art. VII.—Descriptions of New Zealand Lepidoptera.

By E. Meyrick, B.A., F.R.S.
Communicated by G. V. Hudson, F.E.S., F.N.Z.Inst.

second specimen has veins 6 and 7 of hindwings separate; in the original type they are unmistakably stalked, but it now appears probable that this was an individual abnormality, and the presence of a costal fold (a discordant character in Cnephasia) and the specific affinity to fervida indicate that the species should be removed to Tortrix. After careful comparison with my seven specimens of fervida, however, I entertain no doubt that the two species are distinct; apart from superficial colouring, in which there is certainly some variability, the ciliations of antennae in ♂ are obviously longer and more fasciculate in fervida, and the termen of forewings in that species is distinctly less oblique than in sphenias.

Oecophoridae.

Borkhausenia compsogramma n. sp.

♂. 13–15 mm. Head, thorax, and abdomen dark purplish-fuscous. Antennal ciliations 1. Palpi grey, second joint sometimes partially suffused with whitish-yellowish. Forewings elongate; costa gently arched apex obtuse, termen obliquely rounded; dark violet-fuscous; markings ochreous-yellow suffused in disc with fulvous-orange, and with some scattered blackish scales on their edges; an oval blotch extending over basal fourth of dorsum; a narrow irregular rather oblique fascia from costa before ⅓, not reaching dorsum; a transverse fasciate blotch from costa beyond middle, and another inwardly oblique from costa at ⅘, both directed towards but not reaching a spot on dorsum before tornus; a streak along termen throughout: cilia fuscous, base scaled with ochreous-yellow along terminal streak. Hindwings and cilia dark grey.

Buller River, in December (Hudson); two specimens. At first sight extremely like chrysogramma, but on comparison the markings are seen to be quite differently arranged.

Izatha amorbas Meyr.

This species has an elongate pale-yellow blotch extending beneath median third of costa of hindwings, sometimes nearly obsolete, and not noticed in my description, but in an example now sent from Dunedin it is conspicuous.

Lyonetiadae.

Hectacma crypsimima n. sp.

♂. 10 mm. Head grey mixed with whitish and blackish. Palpi dark fuscous. Thorax dark fuscous slightly speckled with whitish. Abdomen dark fuscous. Forewings elongate, rather narrow, costa gently arched, apex tolerably pointed, termen hardly rounded, extremely oblique; bronzy-brown, irregularly speckled with whitish except in posterior part of disc, with some scattered blackish scales; a very oblique blackish wedge-shaped streak from basal part of costa reaching half across wing; oblique blackish wedge-shaped spots from costa before middle and towards apex, and one from middle of dorsum; a small round blackish apical spot: cilia grey, whitish-tinged round apex, with two blackish lines. Hindwings and cilia dark fuscous.

Wellington, in February (Hudson); one specimen, “taken on black Fagus trunks.”

Art. VIII.—Illustrated Life-histories of New Zealand Insects: No. 1.

By G. V. Hudson, F.E.S., F.N.Z.Inst.

Art. IX.—New Lepidoptera.

By Charles E. Clarke.

Art X.—Lepidoptera of Auckland and the King-country.

By Charles E. Clarke.

[Read before the Otago Institute, 9th December, 1919; received by Editor. 31st December, 1919: issued separately, 4th June, 1920.]

During the month of January, 1919, I made a collecting tour along the Main Trunk Railway from Wellington to Auckland, returning via Rotorua, Tokaanu, and Waimarino. I collected at various other localities en route—Swanson, Wairakei, Waitomo, Raurimu, Erua, Ohakune, Waiouru, the Hot Lakes district, and the lower slopes of Mount Ruapehu from Rangataua, all being included. I had originally intended climbing to the subalpine of Mount Ruapehu, but was deterred by stormy weather, which decided me to proceed to the Auckland District for a few days in search of a better climate. I there experienced good weather and collected at Kauri Gully and in the Auckland Domain, and also ascended the Waitakere Ranges from Henderson and Swanson. The best collecting of the trip, however, was made on my return journey while camping at Waimarino and Erua at an altitude of about 2,600 ft. From Erua I ascended Mount Hauhaungatahi by the track, but owing to the cloud-banks enveloping the higher country I was able to collect during my visit only to a height of about 3,500 ft.

The following list contains only such species as I actually took in good condition on my somewhat hurried journey:—

• Vanessa gonerilla Fabr. A few at Kauri Gully.

• Lycaena oxleyi Murray. Very common at Auckland and at the foot of the Waitakere Ranges.

• Chrysophanus boldenarum White. Very common on the Waimarino Plateau.

• Nyctemera annulata Boisd. Generally common.

• Heliothis armigera Hübn. Plentiful in Auckland Domain; also netted at Rotorua.

• Euxoa admirationis Guen. Several at Rotorua on Veronica blossom.

• Agrotis ypsilon Rott. At sugar, Waimarino.

• Graphiphora compta Walk. Three netted in the Auckland Domain.

• Leucania sulcana Fer. Several at Waitakere.

• —— semivittata Walk. Two specimens at Rangataua.

• —— phaula Meyr. A few at sugar on the Mangaehuehu Stream, near Rangataua.

• Aletia moderata Walk. One at Waitomo.

• —— unipuncta Hew. Several in the Auckland Domain.

• Dipaustica epiastra Meyr. One at Waimarino and one at Rangataua.

• Persectania disjungens Walk. Some fine specimens were taken at Waimarino.

• —— steropastis Meyr. Two at sugar on the Mangaehuehu Stream.

• —— composita Guen. Several at Auckland.

• —— atristriga Walk. Common at Auckland and Rotorua.

• Erana graminosa Walk. Two only at Waimarino.

• Melanchra exquisita Philp. One very fine specimen taken at the electric light of Waitomo Hotel.

• —— plena Walk. A few at Waimarino.

• Glyphipteryx zelota Meyr. A good series at Kauri Gully.

• —— transversella Walk. Very common at Waimarino.

• —— achlyoessa Meyr. Common at Waimarino.

• —— asteronota Meyr. A few at Kauri Gully.

• Pantosperma holochalca Meyr. A few on rushes at Tokaanu.

• Coridomorpha stella Meyr. One at Raurimu.

• Simaethis combinatana Walk. One at Waimarino and one at Ohakune.

• —— microlitha Meyr. One only at Waitakere.

• Acrocercops cyanospila Meyr. Two only at Taupo.

• Batrachedra psithrya Meyr. A few at Kauri Gully.

• Parectopa aellomacha Meyr. A few at Kauri Gully and the Auckland Domain.

• Gracilaria chalcodelta Meyr. Fairly common at Waimarino and Raurimu.

• —— chrysitis Feld. Three specimens of this beautiful moth at Kauri Gully.

• —— linearis Butl. Common, especially at Waimarino.

• Dolichernis chloroleuca Meyr. Common at Raurimu and Waimarino.

• Protosynaema steropucha Meyr. One only at Rangitoto Island, Auckland Harbour.

• Orthenches porphyritis Meyr. Kauri Gully and Waimarino; common.

• —— drosochalca Meyr. One only at Kauri Gully.

• —— chlorocoma Meyr. A few in Auckland Domain.

• —— glyptarcha Meyr. One only of this fine species at Waimarino.

• Circoxena ditrocha Meyr. Two of this moth at Kauri Gully.

• Eschatotypa melichrysa Meyr. Auckland and Waimarino; common.

• Erechthias exospila Meyr. Two only at Kauri Gully.

• —— hemiclistra Meyr. Common at Waimarino, attached to Cordyline indivisa.

• Hectacma chasmatias Meyr. Two taken in Auckland Domain.

• —— stilbella Newm. Common in Auckland Domain.

• Crypsitricha mesotypa Meyr. Common at Kauri Gully and Waimarino.

• —— roseata Meyr. A few at Waimarino.

• Habrophila compseuta Meyr. A few at Kauri Gully.

• Endophthora omogramma Meyr. Common in Auckland Domain.

• Thallostoma eurygrapha Meyr. One only at Raurimu.

• Sagephora exsanguis Philp. One or two in Auckland Domain.

• Lysiphragma epixyla Meyr. A few at Waimarino.

• Mallobathra crataea Meyr. Common at Waimarino.

• Protnodes grammocosma Meyr. Common at Kauri Gully and Waimarino, attached to Cordyline indivisa.

• Porina umbraculata Gn. Common at Ohakune.

• —— enysii Butl. Three fine specimens at Waimarino.

• Mnesarchaea loxoscia Meyr. Common at Raurimu.

• Sabatinca calliarcha Meyr. One only at Kauri Gully.

• —— incongruella Walk. Very common at Ohakune, Erua, and Waimarino.

• —— doroxena Meyr. Seveal at Waimarino.

• —— lucilia n. sp. A few at Kauri Gully and one at Waitomo.

• Hepialis virescens Doubl. A few in Auckland Domain and one at Waimarino.

Art. XI.—Notes and Descriptions of New Zealand Lepidoptera.

By Alfred Philpott.

Melanchra inchoata n. sp.

♂ ♀ 33 mm. Head, palpi, and thorax greyish-ochreous sprinkled with fuscous. Thorax in both sexes with rather prominent anterior crest. Antennae in ♂ ciliated, ciliations ⅘. Abdomen in both sexes with the first four or five segments prominently crested. Legs ochreous, tarsi annulated with fuscous. Forewings, costa almost straight, apex subacute, termen crenate, oblique below middle; ochreous clouded with fuscous, in ♀ darker; a small pale apical patch; a series of four or five paired fuscous dots on costa; all lines except subterminal very obscure; basal evenly curved, serrate, fuscous; first and second almost obsolete, apparently double, fuscous; a presubterminal thin serrate dark line faintly indicated; sub-terminal conspicuous, unindented, equidistant with termen, white; terminal crenations edged with black; stigmata unusually closely grouped; orbicular rounded, whitish, dark-centred; claviform small, dark fuscous; reniform dark fuscous, obscurely white-linged: cilia ochreous, basally mixed with fuscous. Hindwings dark fuscous: cilia ochreous with dark-fuscous sub-basal line. Underwings ochreous thickly irrorated with fuscous, clear ochreous along costa and round termen of forewings; lunules and second lines of both wings fuscous.

Belongs to the coeleno-levis group, but is easily distinguished by the form of the subterminal line.

Stephen Island. Collected by Mr. H. Hamilton on the 9th September, 1916. I am indebted to Dr. J. A. Thomson, Director of the Dominion Museum, for the opportunity of describing this interesting species. Types, ♂ and ♀, in coll. Dominion Museum.

Sphingidae.

Choerocampa celerio Linn.

In the Transactions of the New Zealand Institute, vol. 37, p. 369, Hudson, records the first captures of this species in New Zealand, four examples having been taken in the summer of 1903–4. To this record I am able to add that of a specimen taken at Te Tua, near the southern coast of the South Island. The moth was taken by a resident of the district and forwarded to the Southland Museum, in the collection of which institution it remains. It is in fine condition, so fresh as to cast considerable doubt on the possibility of its having been wind-driven across a wide expanse of ocean.

Pyraustidae.

Scoparia pascoella n. sp.

♂ ♀. 15–18 mm. Head and palpi ferruginous-brown, palpi ochreous beneath. Antennal ciliations ½. Thorax ferruginous-brown mixed with white. Abdomen fuscous-grey. Legs ochreous-grey mixed with fuscous, tarsi obscurely banded with fuscous. Forewings moderate, triangular, costa almost straight, apex round-pointed, termen hardly rounded, oblique; ferruginous-brown mingled with some fuscous and much suffused with white; first line hardly curved, unindented, white, broadly margined with ferruginous posteriorly; orbicular and claviform dot-like, blackish, partially obscured by ferruginous suffusion, reniform X-shaped, blackish, frequently obscure; second line irregularly bent but not deeply indented, narrow, parallel to termen, white, narrowly margined with ferruginous anteriorly; subterminal line obscure, interrupted at middle, widely remote from second line, white: cilia ochreous-grey. Hindwings grey-fuscous, paler anteriorly: cilia ochreous-grey with fuscous basal line.

Art. XII.—The Southern Maori, and Greenstone.

By H. Beattie.
Communicated by H. D. Skinner.

took it round south with him to Foveaux Strait. The whalers subsequently named a place (Pahi's, near Orepuki) after this chief.

Te Horo is the name of the place in Milford Sound where the takiwai (tangiwai) greenstone is got. It is a cliff-face behind Anita Bay. Piopiotahi, as I understand it, was originally the name of the Cleddau River, but is now applied to the whole sound. The Maori went round in canoes from Murihiku (Southland) to Piopiotahi to get takiwai up to about fifty or sixty years ago. It is said by the southern Maori that, although the greenstone at Milford was inferior, good pounamu could be got at Barn Bay, some distance farther north.

One old man said to me, “In 1841 Anglem, Gilroy, Stirling, and others started trading with Sydney in flax, and they also opened up greenstone-quarries about Milford. The flax was properly dressed (whitau). They had natives getting greenstone at Piopiotahi, and they took this greenstone to the North Island and exchanged it for plenty of flax, which they could sell at Sydney for £70 or £80 a ton. While getting the pounamu at Milford a boat, overloaded with the stone, capsized and sank between two rocks.”

Some years ago I had a chat with Mrs. Gilroy, who was a daughter of Captain Anglem, and was born on the west coast, near Puysegur Point, about the year 1832. She narrated: “After taking flax to Sydney my father came back and took one lot of greenstone to China. The stone was got at Piopiotahi, or Milford, and neither Stirling nor Gilroy had anything to do with it. My father was living at the Bluff then. Captain Waybone(?), of the schooner ‘Success,’ was washed overboard one stormy night off the Bluff, and the vessel came in and lay here five or six weeks. Johnny Jones, who was part-owner, got my father to take the schooner back to Sydney. My father came back in a brig, ‘The Royal Mail,’ and, picking up all the old natives here, he took them round to Milford to get greenstone. I was a girl at the time. The owner of ‘The Royal Mail’ came over in the ‘Anita’ and sailed round to Milford, and after they got a cargo of greenstone both vessels proceeded to China.” Here the narrative unfortunately ends. I was gathering Maori place-names—Mrs. Gilroy gave me a long and valuable list—and did not pursue the subject of greenstone further.

One thing that has always struck me is the great number of greenstone tools, weapons, and ornaments that has been found in Otago, and also the very wide extent over which the finds range. Either the population was much larger at one time, or the limited number of inhabitants worked unceasingly to produce such a quantity of manufactured stone. Then, again, the Maori must have been very happy-go-lucky or indifferent in their care of possessions so valuable to a people in the Stone Age. Although much may have been buried with the dead or hidden in the earth for safety and left there through the owners dying, yet a large quantity has been found lying on the ground as if carelessly thrown down by travelling parties and left unretrieved and forgotten. As already inferred, these greenstone articles (“curios,” the pakeha calls them) have been found in most parts of Otago. Among other localities where such have been found, I see I have a note that an axe-head was picked up on the top of the Old Man Range, near the Kawarau end. Many farmhouses throughout Otago possess greenstone curios picked up in the neighbourhood, and if the whole could be gathered in one place, together with museum collections and private collectors' hoards, it would, I am sure, make an array of astonishing extent. Several days ago, too, at a place near where I am writing in Gore, a big adze-head was dug up, and much more may still be found.

Addenda.

The testimony of the southern Maori that greenstone was got a [ unclear: ] head of Lake Wakatipu raises the query, What is the correct for [ unclear: ] the name Wakatipu? Shortland gives the name as “Wakatipua” [ unclear: ] two maps in his book, The Southern Districts of New Zealand, and [ unclear: ] page 205 also spells the name with a final “a,” but at page 35 he refers to the lake as “Wakatipu.”

Its correct form is one of the conundrums in Maori nomenclature. The difficulty is threefold: Should there be an “h” in the name, or a final “a,” or both? I referred the matter to the best-informed of the southern Maori, and have nine opinions regarding it, but cannot says am much further ahead.

Two of the old men said the name was Wakatipu, and meant “growing” canoe”; but why it was growing they knew not, except it was a sort of magic canoe. Another also said the first part of the name was waka, not whaka. He had never heard the reason for the name, but considered it was a canoe to cross the lake. An old woman said she had heard no traditions to account for the name, but the old people she had known usually called the lake by the name of Whakatipu-wai-maori. An old man said, “Whakatipu means ‘to grow,’ ‘to nourish,’ and the reason the name was given was because the Waitaha and Kati-Mamoe tribes when beaten in war retired there to rear families.” But against this one of the best authorities on southern history says it is a Waitaha name given long before the Kati-Mamoe appeared in the south. The Waitaha, he says, were descended from Toi, Rauru, and Rakaihautu, and why they named the lake “Whakatipu” is not known, but, as far as he knew, it was not after any chief or ancestor. The late Tare-te-Maiharoa said he did not know who named Wakatipu, nor why. It was a Waitaha name, and its origin had been lost in antiquity. Another usually well-informed man said he had never heard the origin of the name, nor did he even know the correct form of the word. The last opinion I got was from a man who gave me numerous place-names of the lake vicinity, and he said the Waitaha bestowed the name Whakatipu. The word whaka (or, as the North-Islanders would say, whanga) meant “a bay,” and tipu meant “growing,” but he had never heard why the Waitaha applied the name.

In regard to information derived by Europeans from Maori sources, Mr. Henry P. Young, who got his information at Colac Bay, wrote in 1903, “Wakatipu should be Wakatipua, the waka or hollow of the tipua or demon from the well-known legend.” Mr. Henry E. Nickless, writing in 1898, said that Hoani Matewai Poko, a son of Te Waewae, told him the proper name of the lake was Whakatipu and not Whakatipua. Mr. H. M. Stowell (Hare Hongi), in 1898—the year the stamp was printed with “Wakitipu” on it—wrote that the name should be Whakatipu; and he was followed by Mr. S. Percy Smith, who wrote, “Mr. Stowell may be right about Whakatipu, although Tare Wetere assures me that it should be Whakatipua, and I am inclined to think that the name should be Wakatipua.” Halswell in his 1841 map spelt the name “Wakatopa.” James F. Healey, writing in 1898, said that the Waitaki Maori in 1856 gave him the name as Whakatipu, and said it was a mighty lake [ unclear: ] existed near a greenstone river. A white settler told me that the [ unclear: ] had told him the name was Waka-tipua because a phantom can [ unclear: ] to drift on the lake. In Mr. Cowan's notes was one—“Whaka [ unclear: ] was the name of a canoe in which the Maoris went to fetch the [ unclear: ]

Art. XIII.—Nature-lore of the Southern Maori.

By H. Beattie.
Communicated by H. D. Skinner.

Other places at which kanakana might be caught were Te Rere-o-Kaihiku (Kaihiku Falls), Hehetu a small fall where the Orawia runs into the Waiau, Waipapa-o-Karetai, on the Silverstream, and elsewhere.

It must not be thought that persons entitled to take the lampreys from a certain section of rock could proceed to do so at haphazard. It was a matter that had to be gone about with karakia (incantations) and due observance of time-honoured customs. Each of the falls was protected by a guardian taepo ^* (spectre), and if a person offended against tradition, woe betide him. The taepo of the Mataura Falls was a magic dog. It was explained to me as a rock which stuck out of the water about where the Mataura Freezing-works are, and, although it looked like a rock at ordinary times, to one who was guilty of desecration it would miraculously change, and appear as an ogre possessing a dog's head, paws, and body, but with a fish's tail. The luckless wight who saw it thus was doomed to disaster unless he could invoke powerful charms to ward off the evil.

The taepo of the Pomahaka Falls was also an uncanny thing to provoke. It frequented the tiny island known as Patu-moana, and took the shape of a giant eel. These spectres did not trouble those who proceeded to take the kanakana in the correct manner as prescribed by ancestral usage.

To supplement what the Maori told me about the kanakana, I may add that the late Mr. N. Chalmers, of Fiji, writing to me in 1910, said, “I reached Tuturau in September, 1853. This was in the kanakana season, and I was much interested in the way in which the Natives caught the lampreys. On the top of the falls there are—or were at that time—three large potholes about 6 ft. deep, and full of stones. These were cleared out and strong stakes put in each; then as the kanakana came crawling up and clinging to the rocky wall of the falls the Maori, leaning on the stakes, reached out their hands and, grasping the fish, put them in the korari eel-pots handy. It took them only about ten minutes to fill one pot, when another took its place. The superstition of the Maori is very marked, for Reko told me that if an enemy or any one threw a firestick into the falls, then the kanakana would desert the locality; so, needless to say, I was very careful to avoid hurting their feelings… When I was at Hokanui in 1858 I had a stockman called George, a Sussex man, who came to the house one afternoon with a face as white as a sheet and swearing he had seen an eel at least a mile long at the Longford (now Gore). I got on my horse and went with him, and when I saw the phenomenon I was not surprised at his statement; for I saw a column of kanakana more than a mile long, swimming in a round mass exactly like a large eel, so beautifully were they keeping a circular shape.” Mr. F. L. Mieville, who stayed at Tuturau in 1854, writes, “The natives were very good to us and supplied us with potatoes, also kanakanas much resembling leather with a strong flavour of train-oil—they were dried and very hard.”

The Maori Dog.

The question of who introduced the Maori dog to New Zealand has aroused discussion at various times. Maori tradition says that some of the canoes which came here from Hawaiki A.D. 1350 brought dogs; but some people consider that the inhabitants of New Zealand before that time had dogs. Thus in the story of Kopuwai (one of the oldest legends in the South Island annals—it must be much over a thousand years

old) we are told he had a pack of ten two-headed dogs. Be that as it may, we know that when the pakeha came to New Zealand they found Maori dogs extant. In Otago and Southland these dogs roamed the interior, living on the countless flocks of native birds that thronged everywhere. The animals made inroads into the runholders' flocks and were hunted down and exterminated. Some white men considered that these dogs were descendants of ones liberated by Captain Cook or of those that had got away from the whalers, but there is no doubt whatever that they were genuine Maori dogs. They had woolly hair, sharp-pointed noses, pointed ears, and never barked, the noise they made being a long, melancholy howl. According to European observers, some of these dogs were pure white, others black-and-white, and others fawn. The Maori called them kuri, and several places in Otago and on Stewart Island bear names reminiscent of these animals. Asked concerning these dogs, two of the old Maori said the kuri was usually of a black-and-white colour, and another old man said they were often reddish-tan. One said, “It had long hair, a bushy tail, a short, sharp nose, and a small head. They were very wary, but could be caught by tying up a bitch (uha) and leaving it, when the wild ones would come round it. These dogs were in New Zealand long before Captain Cook came, as our traditions show; but when they began to run wild I cannot say.”

Another said, “The kuri was the Maori dog. The reason why one lot of Maori came to New Zealand was because some of them who were not high-class people stole a dog and ate it. Through this they were forced to leave Hawaiki. Before the pakeha came our people used to sometimes castrate (whakapoka) these dogs and then fatten and eat them. They had long hair, and their skins made fine mats called topuni, and rugs. When I was a boy I remember a fine kuri belonging to a native called Koati in Westland. It had a big body and short legs A man named McDonald bought it as a curio for £2; but he tied it up and it jumped the fence and was strangled.”

Another said, “I never heard how the kuri came to New Zealand. The skins were cut into strips and made into rugs. I once saw a kakahu (garment) made of them—it was a taniko cloak. Its colour was white and black, and some of the hair had been stained red with dye from a tree like the miro but whose name I forget.”

A shepherd speaking of wild dogs on Knapdale Run in 1858 said, “A family of red ones seemed to frequent the lower flat, while those on the upper flat were yellow.”

The question of the kuri, or Maori dog, still requires much investigation.

Lizards And Tuatara.

Having read that the Maori had a superstitious awe of lizards, I asked about them, but got little satisfaction. One old man said, “I know three kinds of lizards. The one which lives in the cracks in rocks is karara-papani, the greenish one is called kakariki, and the common one is karara-toro-pakihi. I know nothing of the tuatara.” Another said, “The kind of lizard known as mokakariki was perhaps so called because its colour was like the plumage of a parrakeet. The general name was karara. I have never seen or heard of tuatara down here, but I have seen a lizard about 2 ft. long. It was on top of one of the Hokanui Hills and, because I had had a bad dream the night before, I killed the karara with a big stone, lit a fire, and burnt it. It was the biggest lizard I ever saw. A wise old

man told me afterwards that it was a good job I had killed and burnt the lizard and so stopped any evil coming to me because of my dream. Some of the old Maori used to eat lizards. You could tame them for pets so that they would come when their names were called and they would lie and sleep alongside you. One such pet, Te Horo-mokai by name, was kept at Motu-kai-puhuka (village near Kaitangata), but it was lost, and although it was seen later eating tutu it was never caught again.” Another said, “Tuatara were down on Auckland Island, and Mrs. Cameron, of Riverton, got two from there. They had fins on their heads and backs. I reckon the Maori had been down there before the Europeans came, and had a look round but thought it no good and never settled there.” My last informant on this subject stated that legend averred that at Mason's Bay, Stewart Island, some people saw tuatara eggs and broke them; the tuatara came after them and they killed it. The names of two small islets in Lake Wanaka commemorate lizards—viz., Taki-karara and Te Pae-karara. “Only the big kind of lizard was called karara” (see Trans. N.Z. Inst., vol. 7, p. 295).

The Maori Rat.

Some people have expressed abhorrence of the idea of eating rats, but my Maori friends were careful to explain that the Maori rat was an altogether different creature from the filth-eating European rat. The Maori rat was a fruit-eater and a cleanly animal. One old Maori told me that once a party of white whalers was wrecked in the West Coast Sounds and walked overland. They were glad to eat the Maori rats, which were then feeding on the fruit of the kowhai, and were big and fat. “Long Harry,” one of the party, told my informant that the rats were “very good.” My informant added that some of these rats had hair like the opossum, and that the general name for the rats was kiore, but one kind was called pouhawaiki. Another old man said the Maori rat was not found on Stewart Island, although it was plentiful on the mainland. It was a fruit-eater, and was snared. An old song mentioned that Tawera, near Oxford, in Canterbury, was the best place to go if one wanted a feast of kiore (rats). A well-informed kaumatua (elder) said that the Maori rat was called kiore-tawai, and was once very plentiful. It was grey, but not like the colour of our present rodents. It would not eat flesh, but only fruit and berries. Pouhawaiki, he said, was the name of the introduced, or European, rat.

Near the mouth of the Molyneux is a bank called Te Rua-koi, which I was told meant “a hole made by the rats.” When they were fat the Maori would go and dig them out. My informant was certain that was the correct name of the locality, and that the getting of the rats out of their lairs was why it was so named. Another Maori, well versed in nature-lore, said he had never seen the Maori rat (kiore maori he called it), although a very old white settler had told him of seeing it many years ago in that district. According to what he had heard, this rat liked to live in mossy places in swampy ground. It made holes in the moss, and the nest was known as rua kiore. That this creature existed before the pakeha came he knew from tradition; also the ancient name of a creek near, Otaraia was Tapiri-kiore, which meant “two rats walking together.” In fact, there were two creeks with this name. Leaving Poupoutunoa (Clinton) and going through the Kuriwao Gorge you come to Tapiri-kiore-tuatahi (tuatahi = first), and then to Tapiri-kiore-rahi (rahi= big). Then you cross Te Kauaka-o-Waipahi (the ford of the Waipahi), and go on to Te Au-nui (Mataura Falls).

The pioneer runholders on the Waimea Plain found “futtahs” (whata = storehouse) left by former Maori inhabitants. These whata were erected on the top of two stout, high posts, each of which had a nick round it about 18 in. from the ground to prevent the rats from getting up to the provisions, so evidently the Maori rat had some sort of predilection for Maori food, notwithstanding it was reputedly frugivorous.

Settlers of the late “fifties” speak of the plague of rats that overran Otago, but I presume these were European rats. On the subject of the kiore, or Maori rat, like that of the kuri, or Maori dog, we could do with much more information.

The Mutton-birds.

The titi (mutton-bird) is a favourite item of food with Maori and pakeha alike. The edible qualities of this bird were, I was told, unknown to the Waitaha and Kati-Mamoe Tribes. It was the. first two Kai-Tahu visitors to Ruapuke who discovered that the pi-titi (young mutton-birds) were good eating. Ruapuke was then uninhabited, and these two chiefs, Potoma and Rerewhakaupoko (two of the titi islands are named after them), visited it, and on the small adjacent island of Papatea saw rua (holes) and inserted their hands and pulled out the plump young titi. It is said that they preserved the mutton-birds and some human flesh in alternate layers in a poha (bag) made of rimu (kelp), and that those to whom it was given as a kaihaukai (gift of food) relished it exceedingly. This was, as far as can be ascertained, about two hundred years ago, and since then he poha-titi (a kelp bag) has always been the receptacle to hold these birds, fat being poured over the contents and acting as an efficient preservative.

A very old Maori said to me, “March is the season for mutton-birds, and I went after them many years ago although I have never been inland after weka. Titi was the general name for mutton-birds. but a small kind was called koruri, and there were other kinds whose names I cannot recall.”

Another said, “There are three principal kinds of mutton-birds. The chief one is a black bird, and is simply called titi; another kind is black-and-white, and is called titi-wainui; and another kind is titi-ariki. This is a grey bird, and is very scarce.”

Still another remarked, “I know no legends about the titi and its catching, killing, or preserving. A small kind is called korure, and the kind known as wainui is rather rare.” This informant went on to say that some of the larger titi islands were divided into manu, or bird-preserves, for different families. For instance, on Herekopare Island there were five manu—viz., Te Tihi, Kuri, Te Upoko-o-Tamairaki, Hotunui, and Te Ahi-o-Pere.

There was evidently some etiquette observed about taking the titi, as an old and respected-Maori of the South received his name from the following circumstance. It was the rule that one party arriving on an island before the other parties entitled to do so should wait until the arrival of all before starting operations. In” this case the first party caught some birds at once and were roasting them when another party came. High words led to blows, and my informant's mother joined in the melee with a kohiku (a skewer or stick used to roast birds before a fire), and in consequence when he was born a few months later he was called-Kohiku Titi.

I was told that the general name for the islands round Stewart Island was Mai-ko-kai, meaning that they were places to come to for food. (Perhaps this name should be Mahika-kai.)

Eels (Tuna).

An old Maori said to me that there were three kinds of eels that he knew. The horepara is a light green, with white belly and white underjaw, and is good for eating. The arokehe is a) black eel, with big head, strong jaw, thick skin, and does not taste very good. Owing to the thickness of its skin another name for it is kirirua (” two skins” or “double skin”). The tunapou is still bigger in the head than the arokehe and tapers to a very small tail. It has the same kind of skin as the kirirua, and is not eaten by the Maori but thrown away when caught.

All or nearly all fish spawn in salt water, may informant thought, but he was not so sure of eels. Lots of eels are cast up on the bars at the mouths of rivers, and the old Maori would say these were aged breeding-eels, which were done. It was only breeding-eels which came down to the sea and then went back up the river. When they came down to spawn you would not see them unless they were cast up on the beach. This was about June. You could catch them in the rivers from August to May, but not many in the latter month, as it was too cold for them. In the town of Wyndham there is a lagoon called Pipi-a-Manawa, and it is fed by a spring called Matatiki, and he remembered old Tangatahuruhuru telling him this spring was a winter retreat of the tuna (eels). You could see the hole in the ground from which the spring came, and it was almost blocked with eels in winter, the reason being that spring water is warmer than river water. In the Otu Creek just before it enters the Mataura River there is a hole which is another winter resort of the eels. They used to congregate thickly in that spot, and if you threw in a stone they would swarm out in great agitation. There was a season for catching everything, continued the old man, but eels could be caught the whole year round in some places, although from a food view the best time to catch them was from Christmas-time to February, as the flies were not so bad then, and the eels could be dried (tauraki). Hang them up for three weeks, then put in aumu (earth-oven), cook, and put into a poha (kelp bag), which can be bound with totara bark and flax, and there you have your delicious eel-flesh preserved for an indefinite period.

Eels from the rivers, continued my informant, are not so good as those from the lakes, as the flesh is not so firm. The eels in the lagoons were all right if one just wanted a few eels for daily use, but there were not enough eels in the lagoons, as a rule, to make it worth while to fish for them for preserving purposes. The lakes known to the Maori as Roto-nui-o-Whatu and Kaitiria—but now called by the white settlers Lake Tuakitoto and Lake Kaitangata—were great eeling-places, but to be truly successful one had to be careful to say the right karakia (invocations) before starting operations. The eels were usually caught in eel-pots (rohe-wainui), the basket or cage part of which was called hinaki. A smaller kind of eel-pot, called hinaki-kanakana, was used for catching kanakana (lampreys); and, strange to say, eels will not go into this, and, vice versa, kanakana will not go into the ordinary eel-pots. There was one kind of net to catch one size of eel, as a rule, but there was another mesh which could be used to catch all sizes. Eel-pots were sometimes made of flax in the South, as it took a lot of work and manipulation to make them of the toraro vine.

All the foregoing information was from one man, but I have still three further notes. One man said, “At Manawapore (Upper Mavora Lake) there is a stone eel-trap. Old Rawiri told us, if we went there, to block

the end, to lift the stone and take out the eels, then go up forward and lift the next stone door and take out more eels. It is a very old trap, and is partly natural and partly made.”

Mr: James Cowan collected the following note from southern sources: “At Little Mavora (Hikuraki) there is an artificial stone hinaki with a door for eels to get in. It was built by the old Ngati-Mamoe” people—they put a stone cover on. The two notes evidently refer to the same “stone eel-pot,” but its discovery has never been reported by white men.

Another old man speaking about eeling said, “A fine place to get eels is at Miki-oe, near Dr. Menzies' old run, near the Mokoruta River, now miscalled Mokoreta. It is a spring and creek where the eels go in the winter-time because the water is warm.”

A large number of place-names in Otago and Southland perpetuate the ancient Maori love for the toothsome tuna. There are a number of places called Kaituna and Waituna (eel-stream), one of the latter being in the West Coast Sounds region. A lagoon near Gore is called after a man, Tunarere; and Taieri Lake, in central Otago, was named after a chief, Tuna-heketaka. Of nomenclature which does not bear its significance on its face two names occur to me. A tributary of the Waiau is Kaipurua Creek, and I was informed the name meant a pair of eels eating at one bait or “two eels on one bob.” Murikauhaka was an ancient village at the old mouth of the Mata-au (Molyneux), and I was told the name means—muri, “the end”; kauhaka, a hole in a bank where an eel has its quarters.”

The figurative name for the Canterbury seaboard is Ka Poupou a Te Rakihouia, because that chief, over a thousand years ago, erected posts and built pa-tuna (eel-weirs) at the mouths of the rivers. These weirs were continued until comparatively recently, but I have no description of them as yet.

Mr. F. L. Mieville, writing of his experiences with the Maori in Otago in 1853 and 1854, says, “The Maoris have a very good way of cooking an eel. They clean it, but do not skin it. Like them, I now think it is a great mistake to skin an eel. Next they impale it with a stick pointed at both ends, running it through from the tail to the head. The stick is then stuck slantingly into the ground close to a good fire, and when one side is cooked the other is turned. The eel is then served up—i.e., the stick is placed upright in the earth amidst seven or eight Maoris, and each one pulls off a bit with his fingers.”

The Small Fry.

The season for whitebait (paraki) was October and November, said an old Maori wise in these matters. The patete was another kind of whitebait, and was good, to eat after it leaves the sea, but as it proceeds up the rivers inland it picks up stones and gets rubbish inside and is then no good for food. Waharoa (long mouth) was a big kind of whitebait. You could catch it with a hook baited with a worm. It had bones and its flesh was coarse. Mata was the very small whitebait, and it was caught with Maori nets (kaka) which were sometimes a chain long. Inaka is the name of the little minnows—they are black, with white bellies. My informant reckoned they came down to the sea to spawn, as Wai-whakarara, near the mouth of the Molyneux, was a great place to catch them. If not caught before spawning they were no good, and would go up the river again in long columns, leaving the water white with spawn at the mouth of

the river. The name of the crabs in inland creeks is papaka, and of the crayfish koura. “The native trout, known to the settlers as cockabully, is called kokopu, and the mountain-trout is called kokopara,” said my informant, adding, “both these fish are various-coloured, but they are of different shapes.”

Another of the old men said, “The correct name of the cockabullies is kokopara. They are still to be found in the creeks at Stewart Island.” In the early days of Otago settlement the name of this fish was spelt “kokobula,” or sometimes “cockabulla.” I have a note, “Mata-inaka was a lagoon near Waikouaiti where the Maori got very small whitebait; hence its name.” A fish called puaihakarua, which was caught in some streams, I have no particulars of, nor of a small fish called ikamaru.

Sea-fish.

An old Maori said to me, “Our name for the barracouta is maka, and the proper name of the place the white men call Titri is Kaimaka (to eat barracouta). We caught these fish with a rod (matere), using a jigger (pa) worked with string (tau). When the flesh of the maka was preserved by drying it was called moe. The jigger was made of wood, and whenever possible of towai wood. One of the best places in Otago to get this kind of wood was at a bush called Oreheke, north-west of the Tapuaenuku Range—now called Tapanui—and near the head of the Pomahaka River. This bush was full of towai timber. On days when you cannot see a barracouta, and you are getting no bites, use a towai jigger and you will get plenty of fish. The reason for this is because a particular bird once settled on this tree; but I do not know which bird it was, nor the story about it.”

Another old Maori, in speaking of sea-fish, said, “We called the blue cod, rawaru; rock-cod moeanu; red cod, hoka; ling, rari; soles, whose jaws are more bent than flounders, horihori; butterfish, takakaha; white-fish, tarakihi. The name of the falls in the Owaka River near the township is Taheke-aua (Mullet Falls). The reason of the name is that the mullet (aua) ran up the river from the sea until stopped by the falls, and that was a great place for catching them.” A stream near Taieri Lake was Te Awa-kai-aua (eat mullet), but I do not know why it was so named.

I have a note, “At Moeraki the fish principally caught are hapuku (groper), rawaru (blue cod), and mangaa (North Island name of barracouta),” but I am sorry I omitted to get details of ancient fishing methods or of the huge flax nets of pre-European days.

Seals and Sea-lions.

In regard to the larger denizens of the sea, the southern Maori name for seals generally was pakake; the fur-seal was kekeno; the porpoise, terehu; the sea-leopard, rapoka; and the sea-lion, whakahau. A number of place-names in the South reveals the Maori interest in these mammals, such as Whakawai-pakake (to entice seals), Tangi-pakake (when the mother seals were killed the young ones would tangi and shed tears), Ara-kaki (the path of a female seal), &c. One old man said, “The two hind flippers of a seal are called ka-kautaua, and two rocks near Ruapuke are called this name because of their shape.” Another said, “The bight below Lord's River, Stewart Island, is called Pupuri-kautaua (Hold on to the flipper) because here a chief named Kahu surprised a whakahau (sea-lion) and caught hold of its flipper and held on till his men could kill it. He

was a big, powerful man, but it must have been a young whakahau or he could not have held it.” Another narrates that when a boy he copied some white boys and made bow and arrows, and he got into sad trouble for shooting an arrow into a poha of kekeno flesh suspended to the roof. The poha was opened, and he says the seal-flesh made good eating, although fat. The Maori method of killing the seals, &c., is said to have been by clubbing, but more particulars would be welcome.

Whales in the South were called kewa, and the traditions frequently mention them, chiefly as miracle-workers; but the Maori would occasionally find stranded whales, when they would enjoy a course of whale-flesh.

Bird-hunting.

So much has been written about the sparing and catching of birds by the Maori that the collector will not say much on the subject except to add a remark or two made by, the old people.

The southern Maori trained their kuri to catch birds such as weka, kakapo, and tokoeka. The last-named bird I was told had big “paws” (toes) and was able to kick the dogs, so there was a certain knack in catching them. In catching woodhens (weka), the art, as I understand it, was for the huntsman to entice the woodhen near enough for the dog to seize without letting the bird whakakeokeo or alarm the rest. Keokeo is the short sharp cry of the weka when alarmed, and to prevent it the hunter would turutu, or imitate the cry of the bird, and so coax it quite close, when the dog would spring at it; but not many of the present Maori have been weka-catching. Weka were also captured with a noose.

Wild ducks were snared in the creeks with a flax net or snare, called the kaha. I was also told that a Maori who was a fast swimmer could catch moulting ducks, which in common with unfledged young are called maunu. An old and respected white settler tells me that in 1859 he was invited by the Maori at Henley to take part in a “duck drive” on Lake Waihola. They started out at daybreak in canoes and dug-outs, and rounded up great numbers of young and moulting paradise ducks unable to fly. They ran these maunu into a corner and slew them with waddies. They returned in triumph to the “kaik” with six or seven hundred birds, cleaned them, and hung them up in rows, to be subsequently stored in the whata (food-storehouses). My informant added that one of the best feeds he ever had was an eel taken out of the whata one day he chanced to call.

Ducks, said one of my informants, were caught in long nets, into which they swam, and the more they struggled to withdraw their heads the tighter the mesh became on their necks. He had never heard of the Maori swimming under the birds and pulling them down by the legs, as was done in some parts of the world. There was no need to do so, as they were so plentiful, and they were very tame and would come close to you. There were no guns to scare and make them afraid and wild, and all the killing of them done by the Maori was done quietly and orderly.

Another said that the place-name Pomahaka should be Pou-mahaka, meaning posts to which the snares for catching ducks were attached.

The season to catch weka, said one old man; was from April to July, when they were fattest; after July the birds became thin. Sometimes the Maori would go out at night and blow (or whakataki) on flax held between the lips. If two weka had been answering each other this call would bring them. Two birds calling each other were called puhuka, or

weka-puhuka. The cal of the male bird was slow—tore, tore—but when the call was quick and agitated—tore, tore—that was the female bird. The former was called toa (a toa-tautahi was a fat male weka) and the female bird was called uwha

I have a further note to the effect that there is a kind of woodhen on the islands round Stewart Island known as miuweka.

One of my aged friends said he could go into the bush and get kaka by the drinking-trough method, or the rush-hut and decoy-bird method, or by the aid of ordinary manuka spears. He could get tui, pigeons, parra-keets, &c., in the same manner; there was no fuss, and no one need starve if he knew the bush-lore. I neglected to get fuller details from him, but hope to do so later on.

Experiences of Weka-hunters.

Winter being the best season to catch the weka, the parties who went inland then sometimes had rough experiences. I was told of one tragedy of the long-ago through this cause. A man named Weka, his wife Nuku, and their two children set out from Tuturau up-country on a weka-hunting expedition. They camped on the hill on which East Gore is now built, and here the woman busied herself gathering taramea (spear-grass) from which to extract scent (kakara). Resuming their journey, they went to Nokomai, but much to their disappointment theweka were scarce, so, under the shadow of the mountain called Karu-a-hine, Weka made a pahuri (shelter) for his wife and family while he went on to Kimiakau (Arrow River) and Kamuriwai. (My informant said, “Kamuri-whenua is the pakihi (plain) from Oamaru to the Waitaki but not across that river, while Kamuri-wai is the pakihi near Foxe's (Arrowtown) on the Arrow.”) This was a noted weka ground, and he had fair success and started to return, but was delayed several days by a violent snowstorm. He crossed the Kawarau on a moki and struggled through the deep snow to Nokomai. There was no trace of his wife and children, but when the snow melted a bit he found their dead bodies. With some difficulty he buried them and sadly came down-country. Camping on the hill between the Mataura and Waikakahi (Waikaka) Rivers, memories of his wife gathering the taramea came over him and he composed a song, which is still preserved. From this circumstance the hill is called Onuku in memory of her. Weka continued his journey to Tuturau, where, it is said, he died of grief shortly after.

Another aged Maori told me of a party, among whom was Rakitapu, his informant, who went weka-hunting, their objective being Okopiri, a wooded gully north of Heriot, I was told. There were no runholders there then. The party were on the Otuparaoa Mountains one fine moonlit night, when all of a sudden snow came on. It proved to be an exceptionally heavy fall, and the weka-hunters had a rough time. That snowfall is now known traditionally as Kaipahau, a name which implies that the party, or such of them as sported whiskers, ate the snow off their beards. It was in July, the month that the weka are fattest, that this great snowstorm occurred.

A noted place for getting weka was Mikioe, up the Otamatea (now called Otamita, or Otamete) in the Hokanui Hills. Here there was a clump of mikimiki shrub, of the berries of which the weka are fond. I was told that miki meant the shrub and that oe denoted the shedding of its berries or leaves. My informant once saw some weka so eager to get the berries that they had clambered on to a matted mass of mikimiki and were perhaps 2 ft. off the ground. The sight interested and amused him.

It is said the Maori named the woodhen from its cry, “we-ka, we-ka”; but a European who is well acquainted with the birds renders this cry as “kea-week, ka-week.” This is just another illustration of the difference between Maori and pakeha ideas in regard to onomatopoeia.

The Weather.

The foregoing accounts of the rough weather sometimes experienced by the Maori in winter afford an appropriate opportunity of giving some stray remarks made to me by the old men. One said, “Our word for spring is kana; summer, raumati; autumn, kahuru, a word meaning ‘ten,’ or ‘plenty’; and winter, makariri, which means cold. The old people did not like the winter. If snowflakes came they would shiver and say ‘Kai te oka te huka’ (The snow is falling). We used the word huka for snow generally, huka-wai for snow and rain or sleet, huka-taratara for hail, huka-nehunehu for fine dry snow, huka-kapu for flakes of snow, kopaka for ice, ua or awha for rain, and the name for frost I cannot recollect.”

Another said, “The mountains north of Gore are called Te Rau, and when the natives of Murihiku heard thunder from the north or north-west they said that was Te Rau praying for snow, and if the thunder was from the south-west they said that was Hautere (Solander Island) praying for snow.” My informant added that he had heard the green tui or koparapara chattering that morning, and that this was not a good weather sign. The koparapara is the bell-bird (korimako, or makomako, in the North). The Maori also foretell the seasons by observing trees and plants, but I have no particulars of this.

Maori traditions tell of great floods in the Aparima, Mataura, and Clutha Rivers, and debris was found by early white settlers at a height which has never been approached since. A vast flood in the Clutha is known as Wai-mau-pakura (” Water which carried the swamp-hen “—so called because it swept many nesting-birds out to sea), and at the recent Rivers Commission the date was surmised to be 1800. The question arises, Was the climate wetter before European settlement ?

Birds.

My Maori friends did not have very much to say about the avifauna. One remarked, “In days gone by the bush swarmed with native birds; now we see scarcely any. We had the kakaruai (robin), miromiro (tomtit), titakataka (fantail), tatariki (canary), a very small bird without a tail called titiripounamu (rifleman), kakariki (parrakeet). We had a black bird with red wattles, koka (native crow), and a bird with a yellow-mark over its back, tieke (saddleback). Both these birds had beautiful notes— they could whistle like a man. Then we had two birds which came only in the summer, the pipiwharauroa (shining cuckoo) and the koekoea (long-tailed cuckoo).”

Another said, “Our name for the tui was koko. Away behind Seacliff Asylum there is a bush called Potae-rua, and a creek there is Waikoko (Tui Stream). Our trees fruit about six weeks later than the North Island, and the tui are fat in April and May. A man could hit them with stones [sic] and fill his basket; hence the name of that place. A ridge between Waikaro and Te Akaroa, near Measly Beach, is Paekoko, which means ‘the tui's resting-place.’”

One of my old Maori friends went to the Wakatipu diggings in 1862. He says, “When in Moonlight Gully my dog caught some big moreporks in the rocks there, and we called the place Kohaka-ruru (nest of more-porks). These birds were not the small bush-owls known as ruru, but the bigger open-country ones known as ruru-whenua. They were big and fat, and when cooked the whole party ate them, and they tasted so good that even the white men smacked their lips over them.” I have never heard of the Maori eating owls except this instance, it being generally supposed they regarded the bird with a good deal of awe. A place-near Colac Bay is Ruru-koukou (“the cry of the morepork”—ruru being the bird and koukou its call).

In securing Maori nomenclature I ascertained that many place-names in the South are reminiscent of birds. The native lark is pioioi, and the name of Dunback Hill is Te Awapioioi; the native quail was called koreke, and a range of hills between Milton and the sea is Whatu-koreke; the kingfisher is kotare, and a hill near Nuggets Point is Taumata-kotare; the teal duck is patake, and a creek near Invercargill is Te Awapatake; the seagull is karoro, and an island in the Mataura River above Gore is Pokai-karoro; the parrakeet is kakariki, and a place near Charlton was known as Pokai-kakariki, while a beach near Fortrose is Kakariki-taunoa; and so on.

One of the aged men said to me, “There used to be a small bird at Roto-nui-a-Whatu (now called by the white people Lake Tuakitoto). It was about the size of a redbill (torea), and had a white breast and a black back. We called it pouakakai, but its European name I do not know.”

The common name of the swamp-turkey in the South was pakura, and a swamp near Balfour was called Kai-pakura (to eat swamp-hens). The bird was also called pukaki because of a habit it has of stretching up its neck when alarmed and so bulging its throat. The North Island name of this bird is pukeko, and how often has one heard it said, “Look at those awful Southerners massacring the beautiful Maori language ! Fancy them corrupting the word pukeko into pukaki !” This is not so; it is only one of the numerous instances where northern and southern names differ.

The native pigeon is a celebrated bird in southern estimation. My Maori friends laid great stress on its connection with the story of Maui. It is commonly called kereru, but is also known as kukupa. When Maui was a boy he went down into the underworld to find his father, and he painted his mouth and legs red and put on a white maro, or kilt, and transformed himself into a pigeon. One of my informants said, “The white on the breast of the kereru is the napkin, or maro, Maui was wrapped in as a babe.” Maui in the shape of a pigeon flew on to the handle of the ko (spade) of his father, who spoke to the bird; but all it could do was to nod its head and answer, “Ku, ku.” Any one familiar with the bird knows the way it wags and nods its head—this is in memory of Maui— and all it can say is what Maui answered his father, “Ku, ku.”

Speaking of Maui reminds me that legend says it was the mirth of the titakataka (fantail) which caused his death. One of the old men said the word titakataka meant “flitting about,” and the bird was so named because of its restless disposition. The correct name of Akatore, in Otago, is Aka-torea, and it means “the harbour of the redbills (or, oystercatchers).” The North Island form of the name would be Whanga-torea. The southern Maori used the ordinary manuka to make bird-spears, and I have a note that the clump of manuka called Pokai-kakariki, near Charlton, was celebrated in this connection.

The Moa.

As a rule, my informants frankly admitted they knew nothing about the moa. One man, however, said the last moa was killed on the Waimea Plains about five generations ago, and gave some very plausible details. There is just a possibility that one of the smaller kinds of moa may have survived long after the big birds became extinct, or that a very large kiwi was killed, but I do not place absolute reliance on the tradition.

One man said, “Just a few chains below the Mataura Falls is Te-kohaka-a-moa (the nest of the moa). It is a round depression on a flat rock, and the old people thought it resembled a moa's nest. They also found moa bones about it. Near Clinton is the hill Te-kohaka-a-pouakai (the nest of the pouakai). The pouakai was one of the kinds of moa that lived in this land. A small sea-bird is now called pouakakai: but do not mix the name. The pouakai has not been seen for many generations; the pouakakai is quite common yet.” From this it appears that the southern Maori recognized that there were different species of Dinornis.

The late Tare-te-Maiharoa, than whom there was no greater authority in recent years, was positive the moa was extinct when the Maori came, a.d. 1350. They were killed out in the South Island by the Waitaha, who called the birds pouakai. The name moa was given by the latest comers who saw the bones lying about. “The Moriori of the Chatham Islands,” said Tare, “were related to the Kati-Mamoe, but left New Zealand very long ago.”

This accounts for the poua bird of Moriori traditions. It is simply the moa of New Zealand, which was probably on the point of extinction or already extinct when that people left this country. The last Maori note I have on the moa runs, “I have heard a song which says the moa was killed out by karakia (tau-whaka-moe-tia) because it was a dangerous bird, but how long ago I cannot say.”

Insects.

I understand that the question has recently been raised whether the flea was brought into New Zealand by European ships. I did not know of this inquiry in time to ask my Maori friends what they knew of the matter, but may say that on Ruapuke Island there is a place known as Te Awatuiau (Flea Channel). Shortland in 1843 said tuiau was the southern name for the flea, the northern name being puruhi. One old man noticed a statement that the Maori name of the mosquito was waeroa, and said to me, “Its name in the North might be waeroa, but in the South it was always known as keroa.” Noticing some insects as I was conversing with an old Maori, he supplied me with the following names: “Our name for the bluebottle-fly was rako, and for its eggs and maggots iro. Spiders were pukau-werewere, and grasshoppers tukarakau. The daddy-long-legs' name was te tatau-o-te-whare-o-Maui (the door of the house of Maui), but I do not know how it got this name. A green kind of butterfly, a sort of cricket, was called kikiwaru, while the black and spotted butterflies are mokarakara. [He pronounced this mokalakala.] Then we used to have pekapeka (bats) in plenty, but I have not seen any of them for a long time.” The sandfly was called namu, and there is a place near Waiau mouth called Kai-namu(eat sandflies) because these pests were so numerous as to get into the mouth with the food that was being eaten. I have a further note that in the South the name of the ant was upokorua.

Mushrooms.

One of my informants said, “One of the raids made by the southern Maori northward is called Kai-whareatua. It is not the name of a fight but of a war expedition, and Tare Wetere te Kahu was in it. The Southerners had gone up to fight the North-Islanders and were returning, when they ran ashore, and were wrecked at the mouth of the Rakitata River. In the capsize all the food was lost, and the party found mushrooms and ate them. Hence the origin of the name Kai-whareatua (eat mushrooms). The word whareatua means a ‘devil house’ and that is the old Maori name of the mushroom.” Another old man remarked, “Tare Wetere was in the Taua-iti raid on Te Rauparaha, but I do not think he was at the Kai-whareatua raid, as, according to my information, it was before his time.” This opens up the interesting question, Were mushrooms indigenous or introduced ? I consulted a lot of New Zealand works without result, and I asked old settlers. One says that probably mushrooms were native, as they were to be found in the early days among the tussocks in the backblocks, but others consider that they will not grow without horse-manure. This belief Chambers's Encyclopaedia classes as unreliable, and says that mushrooms were found growing over nearly all the world a very fine edible variety being native to Victoria, Australia. If this be so, why not in New Zealand ? It is said that although the North Island Maori have plenty of names for fungi growing on trees they have none for field fungi—at least, so I understand. I therefore interrogated my aged Maori friends in the South, with the following results:—

“Yes, there were mushrooms, but I forget their names.”

“The name of the mushroom was whareatua, but I cannot say if they were here before the pakeha came.”

“Mushrooms were not here all the time. You could see them only in their season. Their Maori name was whareatua.”

“There were three kinds of mushrooms. One was very small and thin in the bush and was called harore, and the others were called whareatua and were all sizes up to almost as big as a hat. One of these kinds was good to eat. Another thing like mushrooms was called weho, and was also good to eat. They all belonged to the ground. The Waitaha people brought fern-trees and fern-roots to eat, but no one brought the mushrooms. Another thing to eat came out of the ground after thunderstorms. It was called poketara. You would come out in the morning and see it. It was a round-like ball, and sometimes almost as big as a small football. It was wonderful how it grew so quickly. It had to be eaten at once—after a day it was no good. It could be cooked on the fire and tasted like a mushroom.”

“The whareatua was a mushroom on a long stalk and with a deep body. I am not sure if it was here before the white people. The poketara was a big, round thing, a sort of mushroom, but it had no opening; it was all covered. It lasted only a short time, and then it would go into dust. I do not know the history of the raid known as Kai-whareatua.”

“Whareatua was the name of the mushroom. I do not know who brought them to New Zealand, but they were all over the country. They were like an umbrella in shape, but in late years I have seen what is a new sort to me, with thick stems and bunched tops, and for which I know no name. It is said the poketara comes down in thunderstorms. It has no opening at all, and is white and round. When it becomes old the stuff inside turns into a powder and blows away. It sometimes grows as big

as your two fists together, but some remain quite small. There was also a small, round thing about the size of your thumb, white or somewhat darker. An old fellow said it was good to eat, but I cannot think of its name. I once tried it. I placed it in a whena (roll) of bush flax and cooked it in an umu (oven). It had no taste, and was soft like a jujube.”

This represents the information I gleaned about fungi. The/poketara is possibly our “puffball,” but that, and other queries, is now presented for discussion.

Fern-trees and Fern-root.

Mention of the southern Maori eating mushrooms leads me on to the question of how they wrested an existence from Nature, whose moods are sterner down here than in the more enervating North. They say the kumara did not flourish farther south than Banks Peninsula, but a northern opinion that they must have subsisted mainly on fern-root and fish did not meet with the approval of one old Maori, who told me that by the system of kaihaukai they could exchange titi (mutton-birds) and other things for kumara from Canterbury, and even get taro and hue from the North Island. In regard to the natural produets of Otago he said, “We had different kinds of fern-trees. The mamaku was not in this district, although it was over on Stewart Island; but we had the poka, wheki, and katote. The leaves of the poka are white underneath, the katote leaves are green on both sides and softer, while the leaves of the wheki are very rough and its stem very black. The iho (heart) of the katote is good to eat, but that of the others is bitter. I remember that three of us had a good feed of the heart of a katote at Opiriao (Sandy Bay, near Catlin's). Perhaps katote heart might make good jam—it had a sweet taste.

“Our name for fern-root was aruhe, and the leaves of the fern were called rau-aruhe. I remember once, at the south end of the Koau on Inch-Clutha, at a place called Pekeihupuku—the ihupuku was a big kind of seal and peke means its shoulder—eating fern-root. It was during the big flood of 1868, and we went back to the reserve and got fern-root and beat it on a big stone with a piece of iron. In the old days it was beaten with sticks and wooden clubs. When it was mashed we picked out the fibres and ate the rest, and it tasted good. It used to be mixed with whitebait, these tiny fish being beaten into it; the name of the resulting mash was kohere-aruhe. Mr. Hay, an early settler, used to eat fern-root occasionally, both when he was among the Maori and at his own home.”

Relative to eating tree-ferns, one of my informants related, “In the whaling days the brig ‘New Hampden’ was wrecked at the Bluff. She was known to the Maori as ‘Kai-mamaku’ (to eát fern-trees) because once she ran into Te Ana-hawea (Bligh Sound) for shelter, and, food becoming short, the crew went ashore and cut some mamaku, which they ate.”

Some localities were renowned for the excellence of the fern-root growing there, one such place, I was told, being Pau-upoko, near Port Molyneux.

Various Foods and Drinks.

The old Maori who spoke to me about fern-trees and fern-root continued, “But we had another vegetable food too, and that was thekauru, the cooked root of the ti (cabbage-tree). Sometimes these trees had a side shoot, and that was the proper kaur; when it was taken the tree did not die, as it did if its root (more-ti) was taken. If the kauru you were eating

was called more-ti you would know it was from that root only. Sometimes the people would leave a bit of the root in the ground and in a few years another tree would grow in its place. The root could be cooked at an open fire or in an umu (oven). In the old days the umu in which the kauru was baked was often called a puna-ti, puna meaning a hole and ti being the cabbage-tree. It would cook quicker at an open fire, and its rough skin prevented it from charring, but it did not taste its best unless placed in an ipu (basin) and soaked in flax-honey (wai-korari). Or the kauru could be taken and laid flat, and the flax-honey dripped on it, when it would absorb it. Then if you were travelling and were thirsty you could up-end your kauru root and let the moisture trickle down your throat. This was called unu-wai-korari, and it was a good sweet drink.

“Another food of the ancient times was prepared like this: Secure some kelp (rimu), the same as that dried for the poha-titi, and take it up-country to a place where tutu is plentiful. Gather tutu berries and put them in a putoro, a small flax bag very closely woven so that the seeds of the tutu cannot get through. Squeeze the bag, and the juice comes through and forms a good drink, called waitutu. Take an ipu, or wooden trough, put the kelp and tutu juice in it and boil by putting hot stones in. You can tell that the kelp is boiled enough by poking a stick into it and it falls to bits. Leave it till it is cold, and the result is a black-coloured jelly, called rehia, which was often eaten by the aid of an akapipi (mussel-shell).

“Waitutu was a good refreshing drink, although sweet. I remember once at Tuturau another Maori and I had a good drink of it. We held the putoro over our heads and wrung them and let the juice drop into our mouths. I never heard of any other drinks among the old people except waikorari, waitutu, and water. Besides the foods I have described we had berries of various kinds, such as the hua-kotukutuku (fuchsia), which were eaten raw, and mako berries, which came in their season. I also remember long ago eating snowberries in the Hokanui Hills. I think our name for them was tapuku.”

Near Colac Bay is a small lagoon called Okoura, and I was told it was named after a man who was killed there. Bulrushes grew in the lagoon, and their roots were gathered and eaten with the flesh of Koura. Bulrush-roots were called ko-areare; they were mashed and formed an article of diet with the old-time Maori.

An old Maori said to me, “In the North Island the fuchsia-berry was called konini, but down here both tree and fruit bore the same name—kotukutuku.”

I have a further note that a berry which grows in swamps is called te rerewa, but I cannot say if it is edible.

The Tuturau Reserve.

Recently I was at the Tuturau Maori Reserve to see my old friend Mrs. Gourlay (Toki Reko) laid to rest in the burial-ground there. That evening Mr. Gourlay, a European, a keen observer of nature, told me some of the methods he had seen the Maori at Tuturau adopt in getting food. He has been fifty years in the district, the last forty-five of them in his present location, and following is a summary of his information.

In rain or high winds the pigeons kept low in the bush, and the Maori speared them with bird-spears made of manuka or horoeka (lancewood). The end of the spear was sharp-pointed and burnt hard, and seemed to go right through the birds if skilfully thrust. There was nothing attached to the spear.

Ducks were snared by placing nets across streams at the height to intercept the birds' heads as they swam along. One morning Mr. Gourlay saw a duck and all its brood caught in one. Some years ago he got his wife to make him an old-fashioned net for snaring ducks, and it was quite efficacious. There was no fuss nor worry with the snare—the gun was simply not in it with the noiseless net.

The Maori used to go down to the swamp at Menzies Ferry and catch matuku (bittern) by laying snares for the birds' feet on the paths they had made through the rushes. The bitterns made a booming noise at times, and the Maori said the birds did this when catching eels. The Maori caught pukuki (swamp-hens) in the same manner.

He had never seen, or heard of, the Maori catching kotuku (white heron), as that bird was so rare, but it could no doubt be caught in the same way as the bittern.

Snares were also laid on the feeding-flats of the paradise ducks at certain times. When the birds were moulting and could not fly the Maori would get into the swamps after them and run them down.

He had seen the Maori catch tui by covering a pool with branches, leaving an open space for the birds to drink. Snares were set round this open place and tui a-plenty were bagged in a good season.

To catch kaka, a square, 8 ft. by 10 ft., say, was thatched over, the fowlers waiting underneath with a decoy kaka. The cries of this bird brought many others, and as they settled on the corner posts the snares affixed thereto made them captives. These were not killed at once, but added to the collection below. The bird could gnaw through green flax, so their legs were fastened with dry flax amid an appalling din. When enough were caught the birds were killed and preserved in kelp bags. To save the fat for this purpose the birds were cooked in a wooden trough with hot stones. Weka were often cooked in the same way.

Various Birds and Fishes.

Weka (woodhens) were caught by the familiar red rag and snare method. The snarer sat still, and, as he caught each bird he bit the back of its neck to kill it and threw it behind him. This saved him wringing its neck, and was not only quicker, but it did not alarm or disturb the other birds.

The Maori also killed the titi(mutton-birds) by biting the neck. There was a knack in catching them. He had heard that these birds would tear your hands to pieces with their beaks and feet if you tried to wring their necks.

Kiwi were never at Tuturau, although they had frequented the Hokanui Hills. He had heard it said that the Maori would wait behind trees, and as the bird came pecking along he would hit it on the head with a stick.

By the Mataura River, in the South Wyndham Bush, there used to be a shaggery, and he had seen a Maori bring away about two or three hundred young shags caught just before they were ready to fly. The big birds were too rank to eat. The Maori would not touch hawks—they were probably too rank also.

In regard to fish, the Maori caught kanakana (lampreys) in the river at Tuturau. They built a wing-dam of logs, stakes, branches, and scrub across the river, except for a few feet where the “pot” was. The dam was anchored with big stones and the material woven with flax so as to stand-big floods in the river. He had seen a “pot” 8 ft. wide by 3 ft.

bad quickly and might poison any one not careful. The Maori food was naturally cured, kept well, and tasted sweet and good.

The above is the essence of Mr. Gourlay's information; but a granddaughter added that she had recently visited the Bay of Plenty and noticed the following differences between the names of shell-fish there and in Southland. What is called the pipi in the South is there called kuku, and what they call pipi is like a cockle, only with an oval shell and flatter, and they dig in the sand for it as the tide goes out. This shell-fish is called toheroa in the South. There is also a big, heavy shell like a very large cockle, which is called kuakua in the North Island, but down round Foveaux Strait is known as whakai-a-tama.

A pakeha who was brought up at Riverton writes, “Eels were taken with a spear. The fishermen waded and sought for the fish by poking about in the silt with their bare feet. When an eel was located by the Maori's toe it was immediately secured with the spear, which was unerring in Maori hands. The Maori also used eel-pots in capturing their winter's food-supply. These traps were made of manuka sticks, bound together with whitau (scraped flax), and made in cylindrical form, about 5 ft. long; a netting of prepared flax, with an opening in the centre, was placed at each end of the cylinder. The two nets were attached to each other by means of a flax cord passing down the centre of the eel-trap. The fish, attracted by a bait of worms, pork, flesh, or fish of any kind, suspended midway in the eel-pot, were led by the sloping net to the entrance, passing in and becoming prisoners. The eels, after capture, were cleaned and dried in the sun, and then stored away for future use.”

Plant-life.

Strolling through the bush and clearings one day with a venerable Maori, he gave me the names of a few of the plants. The shrub known to the white people as the pepper-tree is called ramarama; that known to the northern Maoris as koromiko is known in the South as kokomuka, while the bush-lawyer is named tataraihika, and a kind of bramble is tataramoa. The cutty-grass of the settlers was to the southern Maori known as matoreha, the biddy-bid as piripiri, and the nettle as okaoka (the island Pukeokaoka, near Stewart Island, simply means “Nettle Hill.” The common native grass, he said, was called ma-uku-uku, the native mountain-grass pouaka, and the ordinary swamp-rushes wiwi.

The southern Maori say that the patiti, ake-rautaki, and other vegetation growing on the Takitimu Mountains have a peculiar scent of their own. A visitor took some to an old Riverton chief, who sniffed at it and said “Ah! 'tis Takitimu.” A legendary account says that the celebrated chief Tamatea brought these plants from Hawaiki in his canoe, Takitimu, twenty-two generations ago, and that he planted them on this mountain-range.

Kohuwai, also known as kohuai, said one of my informants, is a green sort of weed or moss in the bottoms of streams, and a small creek between Waikawa and Chasland's is called Wai-kohuwai because of its bed being so covered with this moss.

After the Europeans introduced smoking the Maori would smoke a weed called kopata. They would, said an old man, make a bowl for a pipe out of wood, insert as a stem a reed of pukakaho, and puff away. This kind of smoking was called tiniko. Over at Stewart Island there is a plant called punui with a leaf like a pumpkin. A boy dried and smoked

this leaf, and, gravely added the narrator, his mouth was turned inside out. These leaves deceived another lad, too. He came from the North, and when he saw the leaves thought he was going to feast on pumpkins, but he was disappointed.

Haumata was the name of what are now called Maori-heads, said one old man, and upoko-takata was the name of a plant, possibly the snow-grass of the early settlers. Papaii was a kind of spear-grass, and the name is perpetuated in Upoko-papaii (“Sam's Grief,” near Tuturau). Pukio was the Maori name of “niggerheads,” and there is a stream beyond the Waiau known as Wai-pukio. The grass-tree was called nei in the South, and Mantell, writing in 1852, says they formed so constant a part of the “mosses” or vegetation in swampy valleys—comprising mosses, lichens, sundews, grasses, shrubs—that the Maori called these mosses nei also.

Legend says that the pikiraki was the last plant remaining in the kit of Tane, the forest god, when he sowed the forest. He looked at it tenderly and said, “I cannot let my last child lie on the ground,” and that is why it is a parasitic plant perched high up on the big trees, a kind of mistletoe with red flowers.

The common bush fern is turokio; another kind of fern is the piupiu, and it is said the kakapo (ground-parrot) will bite it off at the base and hold the frond over its head to shield itself from observation. And this leads us to an interesting bit of folk-lore.

A Folk-tale.

Potatoes and Introduced Plants.

Potatoes, introduced by Europeans, were early grown in the South, for in the late R. McNab's Murihiku we read that in 1813 there was “a field of considerably more than 100 acres which presented one well-cultivated bed, filled with rising crops of various ages, some ready for digging, while others had been but newly planted.” This was inland from Bluff Harbour, and it was also recorded that “a spike nail would buy a hundredweight of potatoes” from the Maori. One of my old Maori friends said,

“Horeta was the name of the old variety of potatoes which the whalers brought. A black variety was called, I believe, mangumangu in the North, but we called it tatairako in the South. A potato which was veined inside was named ropi, while our name for the Derwent was pikaukene.” I was also told about Te Puoho's raiders reaching Tuturau in 1836—“It must have been about Christmas, for the early potatoes were just ripe enough to eat and the invaders had a fine feed after their starvation trip.”

The early settlers in Otago found “Maori cabbage” growing wild. The Maori gave me the name of this as pora, and further said that a kind of turnip had grown wild in Central Otago, their name for it being kawakawa.

One old Maori said, “In 1869 I was eeling at Longford (now Gore) and was engaged to help harvest 30 acres of oats. Among it I saw a jaggy plant and I wondered what it was. It was the first time I had ever seen thistles.”

An old settler tells me the “Maori cabbage” was simply a degenerate swede turnip. The leaves were turnip-leaves; the body was a thin wiry root and uneatable—it was the leaves which were eaten. From the description of the kawakawa it is surmised to have been kohlrabi growing wild but not yet degenerated.

Shell-fish.

I did not get very much information about shell-fish, although we know that, judging by the middens left by the Maori, such were eaten with avidity. The correct name of the Waikaka River, I was told, was Waikakahi, so called because of the number of kakahi, or fresh-water shell-fish, in its waters. The names of salt-water shell-fish are perpetuated in the place-names Hakapupu (in northern dialect Whanga-pupu—“periwinkle Harbour”) and kaipipi (“eat shell-fish”—the kind usually called the cockle). Hakapupu is the Maori name of Pleasant River, near Waikouaiti, and Kaipipi is at Stewart Island. A kind of mussel (kutai) is mentioned in one tradition as furnishing the relish (kinaki) for a cannibal feast. The eating of the pawa or paua (mutton-fish—a univalve) is also mentioned in the history. One of my informants said there was a thread in the limpet(kaki), and this was said to represent the line which Maui was using when he fished the North Island out of the deep.

One old Maori mentioned oysters, and he thought they had been brought by Captain Howell to Port William, and from there had spread to Foveaux Strait. The story runs that about 1839 Howell brought over some sacks of oysters from Australia as a treat to his men at Riverton, but adverse weather compelled him to toss the sacks overboard off Bluff, and that this was the nucleus of the extensive bed, there now. I should like to know if oysters propagate sufficiently fast to render this account feasible.

Paints and Dyes.

Looking through my notebooks, I see casual references to paints and dyes, but really so little it is scarcely worth mentioning. One of the old Maori said that, some of the people who came on the Arai-te-Uru canoe, about twenty-seven generations ago, were skilled workmen—at cultivating the kumara, at carving, &c. One in particular brought red paint with him, but in exploring the land he dropped it in the hills east of Lake Kaitangata, and hence those hills are famous to this day for yielding the haematite stone from which the Maori got their red paint. It is said that

one of these hills bears quite a big hole made by generations of Maori in search of maukoroa (also known as horu—red paint). One old man said, “The Kati-Mamoe used to put red paint on their faces. They knew only two paints—maukoroa (red) and a blue paint whose name I forget. The red paint and the hoaka (stone used as a grindstone) were brought to this land from Hawaiki.” I am sorry I did not get a description of how the paint was made. I was also told, “Maraki is a red-yellow clay found at Waikouaiti and used for seaming canoes.”

An old woman said, “Kiakia is the name of a creek at Woodside, near Outram, and it runs into Lee Creek. It is so called because of the kiakia which grew there. The kiakia is a small bush-like spear-grass or grass-tree, and the Maori went there to get it. They soaked it with the bark of the pokaka tree and a dye resulted.”

“There is a swamp near, Paterson's store at Port Molyneux called Tukoroua,” said another of my informants, “and that little spot is famous for the dye it produces. The Tukoroua Swamp is the only place in South Otago where the proper kind of paruparu, or black mud, for dyeing whitau (prepared flax-fibre) can be found. The mud found elsewhere would turn the whitau red or rusty looking, but the Tukoroua mud made it a beautiful black. You could wash it with the best soap and you would never get that black out. Such a reputation had this place that people would come down from the North to get their mats treated with the dye from this swamp.”

A creek in Southland is called Opani because on its banks the Maori got earth suitable for making red paint (pani), and the name of the hill north of Kaitangata where the red ochre was procured is Te-horo-maukoroa. I was told that a tree called makatoatoa was no good for timber and that the Maori extracted the sap from its bark for dye, but I do not know what its European name is.

Introduced Animals.

One or two of my Maori friends casually mentioned some of the animals introduced into this land. It is well known that the southern Maori call the mouse hinereta (henrietta) because a vessel of this name (“Elizabeth Henrietta”—1823) introduced these little creatures to their notice, but why they call a cat naki I could not ascertain.

Some of the old people are not pleased with the introduction of vermin to Maoriland. They blame the ferrets, weasels, and stoats for largely helping to kill out the native birds, and the fact remains that although Stewart Island has been settled by white men, with their dogs roaming about too, for many years, bird-life is still fairly plentiful. Thus in 1918 in Oban, the principal settlement, I saw the kereru, or native pigeon, and heard the weka, or woodhen, calling. One old man said that if any one attempted to take vermin to Stewart Island he hoped he would be caught; and he further expressed the bloodthirsty wish that the delinquent would be slowly done to death in boiling oil.

It is generally conceded that Captain Cook introduced the pig to New Zealand, but the late Tare-te-Maiharoa told me they knew the animal traditionally, and they called it poaka. He said it was mentioned in the history very far back. I have read that poaka is a corruption of the English word “porker,” but against this we must remember that those Polynesians who had pigs when Cook visited the South Sea islands called

the animals puaka. A European who went pig-hunting with the Maori in the “fifties” says their custom was to get astride the pig and stick it upwards.

Detached Information.

I find I have a collection of stray notes which I do not seem able to incorporate with the other sections of this paper, so will include them here.

Koura.—The crayfish found in inland streams and in the sea were both called Koura, as far as I know. A stream north of Gore is Kai-koura (to eat crayfish) and Wai-koura is quite a common place-name. The Maori had a peculiar method of treating crayfish. They would place them across a stream of fresh running water as tight as they could pack them, having them so fastened they could not escape. After they were dead some time the crayfish were, I understand, taken out and dried. A small creek in the gorge of the Taieri River near its mouth was described to me as a place where crayfish had been thus treated in the old days. A place near Tautuku is called Hiri-koura, and I was told it meant the place where crayfish were fastened. The usual meaning of hiri (or whiri) is to plait or twist.

Kaio (or, as called by the northern Maori, ngaio) is a well-known curiosity—half plant, half animal—that was eaten by the Maori. Wharekaio is the name of a beach and landing-place near where the “Tararua” was wrecked, near Fortrose. My informant said, “The kaio fastens one end of itself to the rocks and the other end is like a spud. You take this knob and soak it all night and eat it.” A European who has boiled and eaten them says, “They taste like a boiled egg flavoured with oil, and have a very good flavour. The taste must, however, be acquired.”

Nets.—Although I have very little information about nets, I append the few items gleaned. Lovell's Creek was known to the Maori as Tuakitata, after a kind of fishing-net. This style of net (tata) was made in the shape of the cockle-shell called tuaki. Other kinds of nets were called kaka and houka, whilst two kinds of snares for netting birds were called mahaka and here.

Primitive Appliances.—When the southern Maori finally abandoned their old methods and adopted European ones I cannot exactly say, but here are some notes concerning the Maori at Tuturau in the “fifties.” In 1852 old Reko was working at a pine log, 25 ft. long, with a stone adze, trying to hollow out a canoe. Then he got an old chisel from some white man, but was not making much progress, and finally two Europeans completed the dug-out for him. In 1853 Mr. Chalmers left Tuturau with Reko and Kaikoura on an exploring trip, the white man carrying a gun, and the two Maori had eel-spears and a stick about 6 ft. long with a big fish-hook tied to one end. They carried no provisions, but lived on the country they traversed. The three walked the whole trip in paraerae (sandals) made of flax and cabbage-tree leaves, the latter far and away the more durable. In 1854 old Reko would go eeling with a large-hook tied to his wrist and lying on the palm of his hand so when his hand felt an eel he had only to pull it forward to have the eel hooked. Writing in 1854, Mr. Mieville says, “Old Reko scorned matches, and had a light from his firesticks nearly as quickly as I did. He rubbed a pointed stick in a groove in another stick. I never could get fire, but the Maori does so at once.”

Maori Cooking.—One of my informants said he greatly preferred food cooked by the old Maori methods to those introduced by the pakeha, although he had not enjoyed the former for years now. European cooking, he said, took the strength out of flesh or fish, whereas the umu, or earth oven, preserved all the natural virtue and flavour. What better than to wrap the food in nice green flax-leaves and let it steam in an umu? He considered even the method of toasting food before a fire on a Kohiku or stick was preferable to frying in a pan or roasting in a stove. Some of the superstitions connected with cooking continued after the white people came, and the operation would be done outside, the women who had been cooking changing their dress before coming in and eating.

Preserving Food.—The same Maori went on to draw my attention to the excellence of Maori methods of preserving food. Anything cooked was called paka, and you could get paka-weka, paka-titi, and so on. These birds have been cooked and then preserved in their own fat. The great receptacle for these preserved foods was kelp which had been made into the familiar poha. My informant considered that kelp possessed some special quality in preserving the taste of what it held, and said he had heard there was a proposal to send butter away in kelp bags. He thought if such was done the butter would keep its taste and quality better in hot weather than under the present system.

Not all food was preserved- in the foregoing manner, some being dried uncooked. The hapuku, or groper, was sometimes cut into strips and treated this way, the flesh being then called maraki. One' old man gave me some maraki to chew, but my tastes were not sufficiently educated in what pleases the Maori palate for me to ask for a second helping.

The Maori Quail.—One of my informants mentioned the Koreke, or Maori quail, but unfortunately I omitted to ask how the Maori caught them. These birds were teeming in Otago when European settlement began, and it is hard to realize the countless numbers of them that existed; yet when the diggings broke out this beautiful bird vanished as if it had never been. An old settler who has eaten dozens of them says he never found berries inside them; they had no gizzards, and apparently lived on beetles and insects.

Bob Fishing.—One of the old Maoris mentioned catching eels with a bob. Some frayed strips of flax were attached to a stick, and large worms were threaded on the flax strands, which were looped up, and then the baited mass was dangled in the water. If a tug is felt the fisherman flicks out the eel before it can disentangle its teeth from the bob. I have not learned whether the Europeans copied this from the Maori, or vice versa, but somebody may be able to supply the information.

Medicinal.

An old Maori said to me, “A good remedy for colds and sore throats is to steep goai (kowhai) bark in boiling water and drink the infusion. It has to be taken fresh, as it will not keep, although perhaps spirits would act as a preservative. The bark is taken only from the sunny side of the tree, and its removal does not kill the tree. My neighbours and I all keep a stock of the bark handy.” A well-known Maori remedy for diarrhoea is the leaves of the Kokomuka, or New Zealand veronica, and it is used by both races now. It is said that in the old days the Maori who suffered from toothache—a rare complaint among them—stuffed the gum out of

Art. XIV.—The Mission of the “Britomart” at Akaroa, in August, 1840.

By Johannes C. Andersen.

[Read before the Historical Section of the Wellington Philosophical Society, 20th May, 1919; received by Editor, 19th June, 1919; issued separately, 10th June, 1920.]

The British Government, though constantly urged by the New Zealand Company, had persistently refused to recognize New Zealand as a British colony, or even as a possession of the Kingdom. The company, therefore, in order to force the hand of the Government, despatched the “Tory” for Port Nicholson (afterwards named Wellington) on the 12th May, 1839, for the purpose of purchasing land from the natives and forming a settlement, the first colonists to follow almost at once. This forced the Government into unwilling action, and an Imperial Proclamation was issued on the 15th June, 1839, extending the boundaries of New South Wales so as to include portions of New Zealand; and on the 13th July of the same year Captain Hobson was appointed Lieutenant-Governor “of any territory which is or may be acquired in sovereignty by Her Majesty in New Zealand.” Among other instructions issued to Captain Hobson by Lord Normanby was one to the effect that he should endeavour to persuade the chiefs of New Zealand to unite themselves to Great Britain; he was also to establish a settled form of civil government, with the free and intelligent consent of the natives expressed according to their established usages; to treat for the recognition of the sovereignty of Her Majesty over the whole or any part of the Islands; to, induce the chiefs to contract that no lands should in future be sold except to the Crown; to announce by Proclamation that no valid title to land acquired from the natives would thereafter be recognized unless confirmed by a Crown grant; to arrange a commission of inquiry as to what lands had been lawfully acquired by British subjects and others; to select and appoint a Protector of Aborigines.

Captain Hobson left in the “Druid” for Port Jackson, where he arrived on the 24th December, 1839. On the 14th January, 1840, Sir George Gipps, Governor of New South Wales, administered the oaths to Captain Hobson, making him Lieutenant-Governor of New-Zealand. He also, in accordance with the instructions of Lord Normanby, issued three Proclamations—the first extending the boundaries of New South Wales to include any territory which then was, or might thereafter be, acquired in sovereignty by Her Majesty in New Zealand; the second appointing Captain Hobson Lieutenant-Governor; the third declaring that all purchases of land from the natives thereafter would be invalid unless supported by a Crown grant.

The new Lieutenant-Governor arrived in the Bay of Islands on the 29th January, 1840, where he next day read his commissions before the people assembled. As a first step towards establishing the sovereignty of Her Majesty he called together the natives, and on the 5th February, 1840, were commenced the negotiations which, on the following day, resulted in the Treaty of Waitangi being signed by forty-six principal chiefs. Others signed it, or authorized copies' of it, in various parts of the Islands at later dates, the aggregate number of signatures obtained being 512! Being

and establishing a French colony in New Zealand. Matters connected with this project were conducted by a company calling itself the Nanto-Bordelaise Company. A certain Captain Langlois had, on the 2nd August, 1838, made a provisional purchase from Tuaanau and other natives, of the greater part of Banks Peninsula, paying a deposit in commodities valued at £pD6, further commodities to the value of £pD234 to be paid at a later period. They were so paid, but not until the arrival of the French colonists in August, 1840. Consequently, owing to the Proclamation of Governor Gipps above referred to, the purchase was, strictly speaking, illegal, and need not have been recognized by the Crown at all. Captain Langlois sold part of his interest to the Nanto-Bordelaise Company, and on the 9th March, 1840, sixty-three emigrants left Rochefort in, the “Comte de Paris,” an old man-of-war given by the French Government for the purpose.

Another man-of-war, the “Aube,” under Captain Lavaud, was sent as escort, and also to take possession for the French Government and protect the colonists on their arrival. The captain, in order to consult the Roman Catholic bishop resident there, sailed for the Bay of Islands, arriving on the 11th July, 1840. Certain proceedings took place subsequently to her arrival, which have given rise to the romantic account of the “taking possession” at Akaroa. It is said that the captain in an unguarded moment revealed the object of his presence in New Zealand waters, whereupon the “Britomart” was secretly despatched to forestall the French by taking possession of the South Island at Akaroa. Lavaud was obliged to make some mention of his mission in order to explain his presence in the bay, and was placed in an extremely awkward position when he was told that the whole of New Zealand, including the South Island, had been proclaimed a possession of the British Crown. At the time he left France New Zealand was still a No Man's Land; and he had had two separate instructions—one to protect the French whaling industry in the southern waters, the other to prepare Akaroa for the reception of the emigrants by the “Comte de Paris,” part of such preparation being the annexation of Banks Peninsula or further territories on behalf of France. He knew nothing even of the appointment of Hobson as Lieutenant-Governor, and he was at first disposed to refuse recognition of his authority.

Hobson appreciated his difficulty; and in order partly to safeguard such British interest in the peninsula as had been established, partly to convince the French that the territory was undoubtedly regarded as British, he despatched Captain Stanley with two Magistrates to hold Courts at Akaroa and other places on the peninsula. The following is a copy of the instructions, to Stanley: they are printed in part in Rusden's History of New Zealand, though not in the printed collections of official documents:—

It being of the utmost importance that the authority of Her Majesty should be most unequivocally exercised throughout the remote parts of this colony, and more particularly in the Southern and Middle Islands, where, I understand, foreign influence and even interference is to be apprehended, I have the honour to request you to proceed immediately in H.M. sloop, under your command, to those islands.

On the subject of this commission I have to request the most inviolable secrecy from all except your immediate superior officers, to whom it may be your duty to report your proceedings.

The ostensible purpose of your cruise may appear to be the conveyance of two magistrates to Port Nicholson, to whom I will elsewhere more particularly refer. The

real object to which I wish particularly to call your attention is to defeat the movements of any foreign ship of war that may be engaged in establishing a settlement in any part of the coast of New Zealand.

There are various rumours current that Captain Lavaud, of the French corvette “L'Aube,” now at anchor in this port, is employed in the furtherance of designs such as I have before mentioned. From some observations that fell from him, I discovered that his intention was to proceed to the southern islands, being under the impression that the land about Akaroa and Banks Peninsula, in the Middle Island, is the property of a French subject. These circumstances, combined with the tone in which Captain Lavaud alluded to Akaroa and Banks Peninsula, excited, in my mind, a strong presumption that he is charged with some mission in that quarter incompatible with the Sovereign rights of Her Britannic Majesty, and which, as I have before observed, it will be your study by every means to frustrate.

If my suspicions prove correct, “L'Aube” will no doubt proceed direct to Akaroa and Banks Peninsula, for which place I have earnestly to request that you/will at once depart with the utmost expedition, as it would be a point of the utmost consideration that, on his arrival at that pert, he may find you in occupation, so that it will be out of his power to dislodge you without committing some direct act of hostility.

Captain Lavaud may, however, anticipate you | at' Akaroa, or (should he be defeated in his, movements) may endeavour to establish himself at some other point. In the event of either contingency occurring, I have to request you will remonstrate and protest in the most decided manner against such proceeding, and impress upon him that such interference must be considered as an act of decided hostile invasion.

You will perceive by the enclosed copy of Major Bunbury's declaration that independent of the assumption of the sovereignty of the Middle and Southern Islands, as announced by my proclamation of the 21st May last (a copy of which is also enclosed), the principal chiefs have ceded their rights to Her Majesty through that officer, who was fully authorised to treat with them for that purpose; it will not, therefore, be necessary for you to adopt any further proceedings. It will, however, be advisable that some act of civil authority should be exercised on the islands, and for that purpose the magistrates who accompany you will be instructed to hold a court on their arrival at each port, and to have a record of their proceedings registered and transmitted to me.

You will by every opportunity which may offer forward intelligence of the French squadron's movements, and should you deem it necessary, to the Secretary of State for the Colonies through the Admiralty and to His Excellency Sir George Gipps, Governor of New South Wales.

Mr. Murphy and Mr. Robinson, the magistrates who accompany you, will receive a memorandum of instructions for their future guidance, which you will be pleased to hand to them when you arrive at your destination.

As your presence in these islands will be of the utmost importance to keep in check any aggression on the part of foreign Powers, I have earnestly to request that, should you require any further supply of provisions the same may be procured, if possible, at Port Nicholson, or at any of the ports on the coast, without returning to Sydney.

I have the honour to be, Sir,

W. Hobson,

Art. XV.—Ranunculus paucifolius T. Kirk: its Distribution and Ecology, and the Bearing of these upon certain Geological and Phylogenetic Problems.

By A. Wall, M.A., Professor of English, Canterbury College.

The most striking feature of the flower (hitherto undescribed) is the form of the sepals, which are lobed like the radical leaves, and one of them in each flower is much larger than the rest, lobed and appearing like the cauline leaves which form a sort of involucre in R. Haastii, but attached so much higher that it should rather be termed a bract. The edges of the petals are also lobed shallowly. The colour of the sepals is dark like the leaves. I obtained one head of ripe achenes from my plants. The description of the achene in Kirk and Cheeseman seems to be quite exact.

Specimens of the plants here used were sent to Kew for identification; there are no flowering specimens there, but my plants were identified as R. chordorhizos. The locality (Mount Hutt) is not far from Mount Somers (the original locality), and the plant has been collected by Laing at Mount Winterslow, between Mount Somers and Mount Hutt.

R. paucifolius.

I visited Castle Hill on the 8th November, 1919, and obtained specimens. There had been a heavy fall of snow on the 1st and 2nd November, and most of the flowers were much damaged. Between twenty and thirty blooms were observed. The flowering-date is late October and November, not December (Kirk, Cheeseman). I was able to get about a dozen specimens which had flowered after the disappearance of the snow. No buds were coming on, and the season was rather backward than otherwise.

The flower is large and showy, averaging about 1½ in. in diameter when fully expanded. I measured one exactly 2 in. in diameter.

The number of petals is from 5 to 8 or even more; the most usual number seemed to be 6. The sepals are 5. Most of the plants bear one flower only, but several were observed with two. The scape is very short, not more than 1 in. in any of my specimens. There are no cauline leaves as in R. Haastii; the sepals are pale yellow and have nothing of the peculiar character of those of R. chordorhizos. The edges of the petals, unlike those of R. chordorhizos, are entire or very nearly so, the margin being very slightly wavy.

I obtained ripe achenes at Castle Hill in December, 1918. The description in Kirk is inexact, and the achene is not distinguishable from that of R. chordorhizos.

I may add that I have in cultivation seven plants brought from Castle Hill in 1918. All are thriving, but none flowered in 1919.

The two species having been grown close together, the following points of comparison may be noted. The general coloration of the two is very similar and very curious; R. chordorhizos is, however, a little darker than R. paucifolius. The leaf of R. chordorhizos has the segments distinctly recurved; those of R. paucifolius are nearly flat. R. paucifolius is a good deal the larger plant in every way. The leaf of R. paucifolius is pitted, but not so deeply as that of R. chordorhizos. The leaves of both species are pitted when fresh, not only “when dry” (Kirk, Cheeseman).

To summarize the new facts resulting from these observations:—

Habitat and Distribution.

ridges and shallow hollows of dune type. The south-west half of the basin is clothed with tussock grassland, and does not concern us. The north-east half, at the south-west end, shows first (moving from south-west to north-east) a small area, about 120 yards by 100 yards, of open debris formation which does not harbour this Ranunculus. The upper (or north-eastern) portion consists of a larger area of limestone debris, about 350 yards by 100 to 150 yards, of which some parts are clothed with a half-closed tussock formation, others with an open formation, including the Ranunculus paucifolius, while some considerable portions are entirely barren. The bottom of this part of the basin is occupied chiefly by a belt of half-closed tussock formation; the eastern side has rapid slopes of coarse debris below the limestone rocks; the western side (shown in Plate IV) has a gentler gradient, and the grass-covered slopes of Castle Hill here ease off gradually into the central basin. Tongues of half-closed tussock formation, on this side, occupying higher ground or ridges, separate roughly circular or semicircular areas of the open formation well seen in Plate V, within which most of the plants of Ranunculus paucifolius occur.

The debris itself is of a flaky character, but is reduced, over most of the area, to a fine uniform powder. The colour of the bare patches is thus a pale yellow, deepening to brown in certain places, owing apparently to the volcanic element present in the limestone itself in varying quantity. The debris on the steep eastern slopes is much of it very coarse and rough, and very large flakes of the stone lie thickly here.

At the extreme north-east corner a dune formation is being broken up. Here are semicircular breaches of the higher dune, whence masses of very loose debris come down. At the top the slope is steep and the material deep and soft; hardly and vegetation can grow, and the line separating the tussock grassland from the perfectly barren space is sharp and clear.

Possibly all parts of the basin have at one time or another been thus closely covered, the covering being subsequently stripped away or buried, while a certain area must always have remained sufficiently open somewhere in the area for the calciphile community to exist.

Digging at a spot where several plants of Ranunculus paucifolius grew close together showed that the limestone debris was here exactly 18 in. deep. At that depth a more consolidated subsoil was reached. Down to this depth the material was perfectly uniform, fine and incoherent, and the roots of the Ranunculus, about 10 in. or 12 in. long, do not reach beyond this layer, which seemed fairly damp throughout at the end of a period of about a fortnight's fine weather. In a really dry season this material must, of course, become extremely dry.

Details of Distribution.

The following are the main results of the careful search of the whole, or nearly the whole, of the area, in which I had the assistance of Messrs. R. Speight, A. E. Flower, and Dr. W. P. Evans.

(1.) Most of the plants grow on the more gently sloping north-west side of the basin, and are most thickly congregated on two areas, each about 60 yards by 40 yards. The whole area within which all the plants (except three or four) were found is about 300 yards by about 60 yards— roughly, between 3½ and 4 acres.

(2.) Nearly all the plants were found on ground sloping at an angle of from 6° to 8°. Few were found on quite level spots, and none at all on very steep places.

Associations of the Area.

The small basin here described supports a limited community of calciphile xerophytes, of which Ranunculus paucifolius is a typical member. It supports also a good number of mesophytes, representing the usual flora of the district, and a fairly large group of introduced plants.

(a.) On the barest portions of the area, where the debris is deepest, loosest, and, in dry seasons, presumably driest, the only plants are Lepidium sisymbrioides, Oreomyrrhis andicola var., Oremyrrhis andicola var. rigida, the introduced Arenaria serpyllifolia, and occasionally Myosotis decora.

(b.) The usual open formation of the gentler slopes includes, besides the plant under consideration, all the above-named, and in addition Pimelea prostrata var., Notothlaspi rosulatum, Poa acicularifolia, Anisotome Enysii, Cardamine heterophylla var., Carmichaelia Monroi or nana, Wahlenbergia albomarginata, Anisotome aromatica; and, more occasionally, Ranunculus Monroi var. dentatus, Senecio Haastii, Crepis novae-zelandiae, Raoulia australis, that variety of Epilobium novae-zelandiae which is distinguished by its generally reddish colouring and pink flower, and Myosotis cinerascens Petrie.

All these plants are perennial, and all are very low in stature.

These two—(a) and (b)—might be said to form a Lepidium sisymbrioides association. This association presents a most singular and characteristic facies. The general background is a glaring yellow, shading into pale brown in certain patohes. Upon this ground the scattered plants of

Lepidium sisymbrioides make spots of very dull chocolate, which are confused in the general scheme with the paler browns, dull greenish-yellows, and greys, of Oreomyrrhis andicola, Myosotis decora, Anisotome Enysii, &c. The sparsely scattered plants of Ranunculus paucifolius become almost invisible in this environment, and play no leading part in determining the appearance of the whole unit. The whole effect is most peculiar; the calciphile flora gives the impression that it belongs elsewhere—to another age, another climate and country. Much the same effect is produced, in my experience, by the isolated patches of ancient fen vegetation which survive at such spots as Wicken and Cottenham, set like savage aliens of some older and vanishing race in the midst of the green crops and pastures of modern Cambridgeshire.

(c.) As the formation becomes more nearly closed, on the borders of the grassy closed areas, Plantago spathulata appears in great quantities, and the closed formation of the immediate neighbourhood includes Festuca novae-zelandiae, two or three others of the usual grasses of the district, Raoulia subsericea, Hydrocotyle novae-zelandiae var. montana, Vittadinia australis, and a fair amount of moss. Here occasional plants of Lepidium sisymbrioides appear, but not far from the pure limestone patches.

(d.) The chief introduced plants which occur in the basin are Arenaria serpyllifolia (extremely abundant everywhere—more so than any native plant), Cerastium glomeratum, Hypochaeris radicata, the large ox-eye daisy (which completely covers the slopes on the eastern side of the rocks outside the basin), and Verbascum Thapsus. It is not without significance, as showing the very special and peculiar character of the locality, that Hypochaeris radicata, elsewhere so exceedingly abundant in New Zealand, is here comparatively rare.

It must be added that the rocks above the basin and the steepest slopes around them also harbour Epilobium gracilipes (which never occurs on the flat), Senecio Haastii (which is comparatively seldom seen below), Senecio lautus var. montanus, and a good number of such shrubs as Coprosma propinqua, Discaria toumatou, and Aristotelia fruticosa. Upon these shrubs the peculiar parasite Korthalsella clavata is found; this also grows upon shrubs in other limestone rocks (e.g., those at the junction of the Porter and Broken Rivers), but apparently is found only in the Castle Hill district.

A certain number of these plants are definitely calciphiles, and occur in no other situations; others seem to grow by preference on limestone, but are not confined strictly to it (in this district, at any rate); and the rest are of general distribution.

In the first class are Ranunculus paucifolius, Poa acicularifolia, Korthalsella clavata, Epilobium gracilipes, Myosotis decora, Anisotome Enysii. In the second are Oreomyrrhis andicola var. rigida and Crepis novae-zelandiae.

Several of them exhibit marked xerophytic characters, as described by Cockayne and Laing (Speight, Cockayne, and Laing, 1911, p. 358), and among these Ranunculus paucifolius is conspicuous. It has the pale ashenpurple colouring which distinguishes the shingle-slip plants generally, such as its relations Ranunculus chordorhizos, R. crithmifolius, and R. Haastii, Lepidium sisymbrioides has special adaptations, of which the disproportion ately long root is most remarkable (Cheeseman, p. 42). Anisotome Enysii shows a colouring very similar to that of Ranunculus paucifolius. There is here a marked degree of epharmonic convergence.

These plants make up a community of intense interest, and the problem of their existence is bound up with that of Ranunculus paucifolius, whose limited distribution and feeble powers of reproduction help to put that problem in a clearer and more striking light.

Ecological: Main Problems involved.

more violently and continuously upon it, the plants might all be buried, as some of them no doubt have been. On the other hand, if the supply of material delivered into the basin should diminish and finally cease altogether, no doubt the closed tussock formation which now covers the south-west portion of it would gradually invade the whole, and Ranunculus paucifolius would die out. This, it would seem, must ultimately happen.

The area has for many years been open to stock and rabbits, but they evidently do not care for the plant, otherwise it would have perished long ago. There are plenty of rabbits now in and about the basin. The openness of the formation has no doubt protected the plant from destruction by fire, a great and very real danger in New Zealand.

Influence of Slopes.—The fact that it is confined to the easier slopes— almost to level ground—is also of very great significance. Among its associates, for instance, Lepidium sisymbrioides and Myosotis decora easily maintain themselves upon very steep slopes, and consequently these plants are quite widely distributed, occurring, in the immediate neighbourhood, upon the limestone slopes at and near the junction of the Porter and Broken Rivers, and upon those of the Whitewater River and of the Upper Porter or Coleridge Creek, whereas Ranunculus paucifolius, by reason of its apparent inability to grow except upon easy gradients, is debarred from these areas, where every condition which it requires is to be had except this one, and can maintain itself only within the very limited basin where it is presumably doomed ultimately to perish.

Limestone Soil.—When it is said that the plant can exist only in limestone soil, it is not denied that it might live, if transplanted or sown, in some other soil; but the assumption is that in any other soil, if it can live at all, it cannot compete with the ordinary vegetation of that soil: it could live, that is, only under artificial conditions and when protected.

Relation to Geological Problems.

We may now consider what conditions are indicated as most probable in the remote past of this community in general and of R. paucifolius in particular.

It seems inconceivable that the plant should have “originated,” established itself, and subsequently maintained itself for countless ages, all within the narrow limits of its present distribution, and the first condition requisite for its establishment would be the existence of a very much larger area of continuous Tertiary limestone strata than is now to be found anywhere in New Zealand.

This area need not have been—and, indeed, could not have been—one continuous sheet of limestone beds covering the whole of the district within which the isolated fragmentary remnants now exist. But the inference here drawn from the existence of this whole calciphile unit, and of Ranunculus paucifolius in particular, is that these beds must once have been more extensive and more nearly continuous than they are now. The ancestral Ranunculus may well have existed upon soils of pre-Tertiary origin and developed there its xerophytic characters, while one form of it established itself especially upon the limestone, developed characters accordingly, and ultimately become virtually incapable of maintaining itself elsewhere. This is, at any rate, one hypothesis which seems to fit the facts. But the exact sequence of events can here, in the nature of things, be only a matter of conjecture.

and the analogy of other lands would seem to show that such a climate may have existed in New Zealand independently of any glacial epoch, whether that epoch be (with Hutton) older Pliocene or (with Speight and others) Pleistocene. The question whether the “drought” be Pliocene or Pleistocene is here dwelt upon because, whatever conditions obtained and whatever balance was established at the end of the “drought,” if that “drought” were Pliocene that balance must in all probability have been disturbed and a new set of condition reached when the later Pleistocene glacial period came. The problem is then, to discover what were the conditions during and after some more recent period, rather than during and after the exceedingly remote period of any possible Pliocene glaciation and concomitant steppe climate.

(2.) Glaciation also has been supposed to have been the chief, though not the sole, eroding agency by which the great area of Tertiary beds was destroyed (Hutton, 1885, p. 92; Speight, 1915, p. 337). The question of the agency by which, and the probable period during which, these beds have been destroyed is, however, one of secondary import in this connection. It is enough, for the botanical problem, if it is decided that they once existed, have been in one way or another largely destroyed (being now represented by the small isolated fragmentary areas which remain to us), and that the Trelissick Basin (including the small area here studied) escaped glaciation and any great degree of refrigeration during any glacial epoch. We may then imagine the ancient birthplace and habitat of Ranunculus paucifolius and its associates to have been a semi-desert area of flat or flattish plains diversified with ridges and islets of higher ground, and neighboured closely by a range of limestone hills or even mountains. The whole landscape would have a yellow hue; upon the surface large areas of unstable shifting debris would possibly alternate with ridges of more grassy and closed formation. Strong winds would be frequent and dust-storms violent. The vegetation would be sparse and harsh, including the species here described, and no doubt many others which have perished; a pale-purple, greyish, and brown colour scheme would predominate. The land would be occupied by no animals save lizards and birds, its whole appearance being monotonous, parched, and glaring; while the dreariness of the scene would be enhanced by the setting of pallid limestone rocks of grotesque and fantastic form—chessmen, collar-studs, sea-lions, and gorilla torsos. The general appearance of the limestone desert might be much like parts of the Sahara—e.g., as figured in plate 345 of Schimper's Plant-geography, p. 614.

If Speight's (1911) hypothesis of a pluvial climate in post-glacial times be accepted—and certainly the-evidence collected by him seems to be conclusive—this community and others like it must have passed through and survived such a period, unless the districts in which they exist have been specially favoured. There is little or no reason to suppose that this was so, for, although Cockayne (1900) mentions that the Trelissick Basin is now very dry climatically, old residents do not support this view; and, in any case, the fact, if established, that it is now dry does not prove that it was always so in the remote past.

Origin of the Group to which it belonged.

With regard to the historical development of this group of Ranunculi, if the neo-Lamarckian view of the origin of species be adopted—the theory

Conclusions.

1. The original description of the species by Kirk is not quite accurate. The number of the leaves is not abnormally small, being frequently 5 and may be as many as 9. The style, when the achene is ripe, is curved, not straight. The flowering-period is late October and November, not December. The petals number 5 to 8.

2. It is one member of a xerophytic plant community, or association, of very ancient origin, and is specially adapted, like some others of that community, to live upon a limestone soil, or, rather, debris formation.

3. Though its habitat is now, so far as is known, extremely restricted, it must formerly, with its associates, have been distributed over a far more extensive area of Tertiary limestone beds. This conclusion supports that reached by Speight (1915, p. 345) upon quite different evidence.

4. It is the product of a period of drought or steppe climate, which directly caused the development of its xerophytic characters; and in this it resembles the other members of the community to which it belongs, one which was formerly, in all probability, far richer in species, and perhaps even in genera, than it is now.

5. It is adapted only for life under very special and peculiar conditions— e.g., its confinement to gentle gradients and to a limestone soil—which conditions have been provided and preserved for it, by a series of fortunate chances, in one small locality only (so far as is known at present).

6. Its life-history may be thus summed up conjecturally: Originating in the very remote past during a period of drought (which was probably very long) somewhere within or not far from an extensive area of Tertiary limestone, this plant acquired marked xerophytic characters and flourished, maintaining itself with ease, and as the area upon which it grew was slowly and gradually eroded (or perhaps, in parts, more rapidly by glaciation) it was restricted to areas continually diminishing in size and farther and farther separated from one another, until it remained in only one very limited area peculiarly situated and adapted to its needs. Here, as in its original state, it had little or no severe competition to meet and overcome, and for countless ages it has continued to exist there, surviving at least one great period of glaciation, which its habitat escaped; at least one pluvial epoch, which could not be favourable to it; and finally the various dangers resultant upon human occupation—depredations of stock and of hares and rabbits, pests and blights, and agricultural necessities and accidents, such as the plough and the wax match. Thus within its own narrow nook, secure from the competition of rivals, this strange plant, relic of an earlier day and clime, is passing slowly and, it may be permitted to fancy, unreluctantly away before our eyes in an age-long euthanasia.

I desire to express my great obligation of Mr. R. Speight, who with infinite trouble and pains took photographs of the plant in situ and of the locality; to Dr. W. P. Evans, who also photographed and sketched the locality and took the necessary observations of heights and levels and the measurements of the area; to Mr. A. E. Flower, who, with Dr. Evans, assisted me in the task of counting the plants; and to Dr. L. Cockayne, who has most kindly read over the whole of the paper and given me the benefit of his invaluable suggestions and criticisms.

References.

Cheeseman, T. F., 1906. Manual of the New Zealand Flora.

Cockayne, L., 1900. A Sketch of the Plant Geography of the Waimakariri River Basin, considered chiefly from an Ecological Point of View, Trans. N.Z. Inst., vol. 32, pp. 95–136.

— 1901. An Inquiry into the Seedling Forms of New Zealand Phanerogams and their Development, Trans. N.Z. Inst., vol. 33, pp. 265–98.

De Vries, H., 1912. Rice Institute Book of the Opening Lectures on Mutations in Heredity and Geographical Botany.

Hooker, J. D., 1867. Handbook of the New Zealand Flora.

Hutton, F. W., 1885. Fauna and Flora of New Zealand, Ann. Nat. Hist., vol. 15, pp. 77–107.

— 1900. The Geological History of New Zealand, Trans. N.Z. Inst., vol. 32, pp. 159–83.

Kirk, T., 1899. Students' Flora of New Zealand and the Outlying Islands.

Speight, R., 1911. The Post-glacial Climate of Canterbury, Trans. N.Z. Inst., vol. 43, pp. 408–20.

— 1915. The Intermontane Basins of Canterbury, Trans. N.Z. Inst., vol. 47, pp. 336–53.

— 1917. The Stratigraphy of the Tertiary Beds of the Trelissick or Castle Hill Basin, Trans. N.Z. Inst., vol. 49, pp. 321–56.

Speight, R., Cockayne, L., and Laing, R. M., 1911. The Mount Arrowsmith District: a Study in Physiography and Plant Ecology. Trans. N.Z. Inst., vol. 43, pp. 315–78.

Warming E., 1909. Oecology of Plants.

Art. XVI.—Helichrysum dimorphum Cockayne—a Hybrid?

By A. Wall, M.A., Professor of English, Canterbury College.

Art. XVII.—On the Occurrence of Striated Boulders in a Palaeozoic Breccia near Taieri Mouth, Otago, New Zealand.

By Professor James Park, 'F.G.S.

[Read before the Otago Institute, 9th December, 1919; received by Editor, 31st December, 1919; issued separately, 10th, June 1920.]

In a small cove close to Rocky Point, which is the first headland on the south side of Taieri Mouth, and about a mile and a half from the Taieri jetty, there is a conspicuous bed of coarse red and green breccia. It is underlain by bluish-grey micaceous phyllites, and overlain by altered flaggy greywacke. The strike of the breccia and associated rocks is about N.N.E.-S.S.W., and the dip S.S.E. at angles ranging from 5° to 30°. Generally the inclination of the lowermost beds is flatter than that of the uppermost beds. At Taieri Mouth the dip of the grey micaceous slaty rocks ranges from 5° to 15°, and that of the greywacke south of Rocky Point from 15° to 30°.

The breccia is well exposed in the sea-cliffs near Rocky Point, and can be traced northward along the line of strike one-third of the distance to Taieri Island as a line of submerged reef that is in places awash at low water. It is not present on Taieri Island.

To the southward of Rocky Point the breccia ought to crop out on the ridge between that place and Akatore Inlet, but I failed to find it there. It is a rock not easily overlooked, and I am inclined to believe that it peters out before it reaches the crest of the ridge. It is probably a lensshaped mass with a maximum thickness of some 120 ft.

At Rocky Point the breccia resembles a consolidated rock-rubble, being mainly composed of a confused pile of angular and subangular fragments and blocks of red and green siliceous slaty shale. It also contains numerous masses of an excessively hard jasperoid and aphanitic breccia that appear to have been torn from some pre-existing breccia. The constituent fragments range in size from small grains to masses many feet in diameter.

The largest block in the breccia occurs in place, at the foot of the sea-cliff in the first sandy cove south of Rocky Point. It is an included breccia-boulder, partially rounded at the corners and sides, compact, and intensely hard. It measures some 7.5 ft. by 5.3 ft. by 4.5 ft. Its upper surface is fairly flat, and covered with distinct striae that, as a rule, run parallel with the longer axis of the block. The area of the striated surface is about 10 square feet. Several of the smaller included blocks on the south side of the cove are similarly striated.

This remarkable rock resembles the typical Te Anau breccia of Sir James Hector. It is underlain, apparently conformably, by the semi-metamorphic Kakanuian rocks of Hector, which everywhere in Otago overlie the mica-schists of Central Otago. There is no internal evidence to fix the age of the Kakanuian rocks. All that can be said is that they underlie the Mount St. Mary series, which is Triassic, and overlie the mica-schists of the interior. The Te Anau series of Hector, as identified by him in Nelson, conformably underlies the Maitai series, which is now known to be Upper Carboniferous or Permo-Carboniferous. I have always found it difficult to separate the Te Anau rocks from the Maitaian, and in 1910 grouped them as belonging to the same formation. Hector ascribed the Te Anau series to the Devonian period, the only evidence in favour of this being its inferior and conformable relationship to the Maitaian, which he placed in the Carboniferous.

In Nelson and Marlborough, the rocks identified by Hector and McKay as belonging to the Te Anau series are underlain by semi-metamorphic rocks of supposed Kakanuian age.

The Taieri Mouth breccia and overlying greywackes may very well belong to the Te Anau series of Hector, and the underlying grey silky micaceous phyllites to the Kakanuian. If this position can be established, the Taieri Mouth breccia may be placed in the Upper Carboniferous or Permo-Carboniferous.

This is the first discovery of striated boulders in the Palaeozoic formations of New Zealand, and the origin of the striae is certain to give rise to some diversity of opinion.

The striation may be glacial or dynamical. If the striated boulders occurred along the fracture of a shear-plane I should ascribe the striation to shearing. Though crushed and broken, the breccia shows no evidence of shearing along defined planes, an