94 COLLECTOR'S RAMBLES 



beautiful fossil-shells I have ever seen. The beds 

 were probably of recent formation, or the nacreous 

 lustre would have been destroyed. 



As we unearthed the specimens, we wrapped them in 

 newspapers, so that they might arrive at our far-away 

 home in safety. 



We walked on up the beach, coming to new and 

 interesting beds, until, a short distance up a river, we 

 saw a small house, where we asked for supper and a 

 bed. The lady of the house, a Maori half-caste, after 

 satisfying herself we were not tramps, invited us in, 

 where we sat before a comfortable fire while she cooked 

 some eels for our supper. They were large and very 

 good, and had been smoked and dried before being 

 roasted. We slept on the floor, and the fleas were so 

 numerous that father declared they must be having 

 a rebellion in the legs of his pants, with the battle of 

 Bull Run in one, and Gettysburg in the other, there 

 was such a charging back and forth. 



On the way back the next day, I tore my pants very 

 badly in climbing the cliff. We were destitute of pins, 

 needles, and thread ; consequently, I was in a quandary, 

 as my modesty forbade my going back to town flying 

 a flag of truce from the rear ; and besides, the breezes 

 were rather cool. At last a happy thought struck me. 

 I made a needle from a bit of hard wood, and, with a 

 strip of New Zealand flax, did my tailoring in a very 

 secure if not a very handsome manner. 



