Colenso. — On Waikaremoana District. 371 



kept a watch over him, but he easily found an oppor- 

 tunity of leaving us. My other natives were all from dis- 

 tant parts of the Island, and knew no more of this neigh- 

 bourhood than myself. We were now in a dilemma ; to go 

 back to Waikare was, from there being no proper path or 

 track, not a whit easier journey than to go forward to the 

 next village — wherever that might be. The weather, how- 

 ever, confined us to our rude shelter, under which I, clad in 

 light summer clothing, shiveringly sat, holding an old, worn 

 umbrella over my head. Towards evening the weather 

 moderated, and I ventured to walk a few yards among the 

 half-drowned vegetation on the banks of the river. At night, 

 rain still pouring down, I called the natives to council to 

 consider what we had better do in this our exigency, so we 

 unanimously agreed, " rain or shine," to proceed on our 

 journey to-morrow morning, travelling by compass, and trust- 

 ing, somehow or other, to find our way to some village — a 

 determination to which we were compelled through hunger, 

 having consumed our last scanty meal. 



1842, 1st January. — Early this morning the rain ceased ; 

 but, as the heavy clouds still shrouded the face of heaven, it 

 was just as wet from the dripping trees and rank vegetation 

 around us in these deep valleys and dark forests as if it were 

 still raining. We commenced our wet and cold march sans 

 breakfast with perhaps a more hearty will than if we had 

 fared sumptuously. We kept by the banks of the little 

 stream, which we crossed and recrossed repeatedly, making 

 our walk very unpleasant ; but no one expressed a murmur. 

 Here in these deep secluded glens I detected a few ferns that 

 were new to me. About noon, to our very great surprise, our 

 runaway guide overtook us, bearing a large basket of fine 

 potatoes on his shoulders, for which he had purposely gone 

 back all the way to Waikare in that heavy rain, "in order 

 that we might not die from hunger." I could not but esteem 

 and applaud the man's kind consideration and heavy toil and 

 labour for a party of strangers, whilst I disapproved of his 

 leaving us in the manner he did, without saying a word as to 

 the object of his returning to Waikare. With a hearty good- 

 will we — all hands — turned to kindle a fire and roast potatoes. 

 And resuming our march, our guide now going with us, we 

 arrived in the afternoon at Euatahuna, a small village, sur- 

 rounded on all sides by the eternal forests, where we were 

 most hospitably received. Several of the natives of this village 

 were engaged in making and carving poukakas — i.e., parrot- 

 stands — but only used in snaring the large brown New Zealand 

 parrot (kaakaa) of the natives, which is commonly eaten, 

 though its flesh is dry and lean. Their red feathers (a few 

 found under and about its wings and neck) are in great request 



