WOOD AND WASTE n 



of the eels. During floods these creatures 

 assemble iu multitudes at the extreme 

 southern end of the lake, and can be there 

 heard splashing and flopping, or seen noseing 

 along the shores. Apparently they are 

 gathered in obedience to ancestral habit, 

 acquired perhaps during scores of centuries 

 and which still compel this attempt on a 

 long-closed route.* 



The depth of Tutira is some eighty feet, 

 and its original star shape must have been 

 very beautiful, the rays then running deep 

 into the hills and the whole country under 

 dense forest. 



Note. — A few miles distant from Tutira tliere is a big 

 coastal lagoou, shut off in fine weather from the ocean by a 

 sliingle rjdge, and here I have often watched the natives take 

 advantage of the eels' migratory instinct. When, after rain, 

 the lagoon has become very full, and is about to break out, 

 whole pafuls of Maoris arrive, and, scooping out narrow 

 trenches of seven or nine feet long in the beach, allow the 

 lagoon water to flow seawards. The eels, waiting in thousands 

 for the anticipated bursting of the ridge, feel the draw of the 

 escaping water, and enter the narrow trenches. As they are 

 seen to pass the watcher at the lagoon's edge blocks for a 

 moment the seaward flowing stream. Instantly it percolates 

 into the shingle and leaves the unlucky eel wriggling iu the 

 trough of the dry channel. In this manner thousands are 

 taken in a night, the victims, entering the shingle, are scooped 

 out not only singly, but often in pairs; this continuing hour 

 after hour. 



