VICISSITUDES 383 



leisurely life of oversight, when perhaps for the first time in the tiny 

 microcosm Tutira, there might have been discovered latent the germs of 

 those processes of cleavage which, developed, 

 threaten disruption to more complex human 

 organisations. Business the writer resigned 

 to more efficient hands ; perambulation of 

 the run remained to him, a delight that can 

 never fail or fade. It afforded a twofold 

 interest, to the stockman and to the field 

 naturalist, pleasant retrospection and pleas- 

 ant anticipation. In these all -day -long Foster-mother rock. 

 rides, here we pass the spot where once a 



"placer" lived j 1 on this top are remembered wretched merinos where 

 Lincoln-Romney sheep now thrive ; there native grasses have supplanted 



1 Rock, log, nettle-clump, bush, or tree-stump may, as chance determines, become the 

 foster-parent of the "placer." Like other small phenomena already noted on Tutira, it is 

 the outcome of a combination of special conditions. To begin with, it must happen that the 

 dam of the future "placer" shall perish within measurable distance of some such conspicuous 

 object as one of those named ; it must happen likewise that she shall perish when her lamb is 

 young enough to miss greatly its former diet of milk, yet old enough to be able to support 

 life on grass. The ewe, furthermore, must die in an out-of-the-way, thinly-stocked corner of 

 a paddock, where the orphaned lamb cannot attach itself to another lamb of about similar age, 

 cannot watch till that lamb is about to suck its dam, then rush to the unoccupied flank of the 

 foolish ewe, seize the distended vacant teat, and kneeling opposite the true progeny, steal 

 meals by stratagem. Lastly, the lamb must be of the female sex. The ewe dies then in 

 the neighbourhood of one of the outstanding objects mentioned say, a rock. At first the 

 unfortunate lamb may be seen standing for long intervals by its dead dam, now and again 

 bleating, cold, hungry, expectant still of its needed milk. When compelled by hunger to crop 

 the turf, it never strays far; when disturbed by passing shepherds, it runs back bleating to the 

 spot where its mother lies. With increase of age and appetite it feeds farther afield, but 

 always when alarmed runs for protection and companionship to the patch of fast-disappearing 

 fleece in the lee of the boulder ; by the wool and bones it camps at night. Little by little 

 the carcase flattens out, the wool, losing its brightness, becomes grey and stained, it sinks 

 into the ground ; but still at each disturbance the lamb rushes for protection to the now 

 hardly-visible relics near the rock, still at night it sleeps close to them, close to the rock by 

 which they lie. It forms no association with other sheep ; at dusk, when they draw upward 

 to the tops, it remains alone by the rock where its mother died ; at dawn during musters, 

 when shepherds shout and collies bark, it stands fast at the accustomed spot. In course of 

 time wool and pelt alike become lost in the soil, the bleached bones become hidden by the 

 autumn fall of foul rank grass only, as always, the rock remains. Round it, as always, 

 the lamb circles when feeding, to it as always she returns to sleep. At last feelings originally 

 called forth by the dead ewe are entirely transferred to the rock, which becomes parent, 

 protector, companion. I have never known a "placer" produce a lamb: I believe, when 

 sought by the ram, it evinces the same sort of commingled terror and anger as is shown by a 

 single bird for long a prisoner at the introduction of a companion into its cage. As it is 

 impossible to part a placer from its foster-parent, there it remains always on the one spot 

 separated from its kind, faithful unto death to the rock of its salvation. The particular sheep 

 here shown was an unshorn six-tooth brought to the yards after two days' great trouble by a 

 shepherd who wanted the animal for exhibition. Its foster-parent was a log near the 

 Maungahinahina bush reserve. "Placer" is a term used to denote a gold digger who remains 

 year after year on the one spot, on the one place. 



