2G7 



The depth of this sand bank varies considerably, according to the inequality 

 of the surface of the land underneath. JSTear the middle, where it has crossed 

 a gully, it is probably 40 or 50 feet deep. At the northern edge, where it 

 approaches the hills, it has at one part formed a very beautiful bank or slope, 

 of from 30 to 60 feet in depth, the grade being very steep, so much so that 

 one would hardly think that so incoherent a material as dry sand would main- 

 tain such an acute angle. Standing on the edge, and pushing away the sand 

 with the foot, it falls over and over in small waves until it reaches the bottom, 

 just like so much water, only not quite so fast. The opposite hill is very steep 

 and rocky, so that when the sand has filled iip this hollow, its further jDrogress 

 in this direction will be checked. Further east, however, the hill is much 

 lower, the slope more gradual, and the sand is steadily advancing up the 

 incline. A few of the Maori houses located on the flat land above will have 

 to be removed, or they will be encompassed by the flood of sand, and the lives 

 of the inmates rendered very miserable. 



Hitherto we have seen the sand travelling in an easterly or northerly direc- 

 tion ; let us now turn to another part of this same beach, and we will find the 

 prevailing motion exactly the reverse. On the other side of Korako's house is 

 a little flat, where the old settlement of Otago stood. The buildings have long 

 since disappeared ; indeed, a pretty broad slice of land on which they stood 

 has been washed away by tlie sea, and what was once a pi'etty green flat, with 

 a few old ngaio trees on it, is now a sandy waste. A little further on, 

 Harwood's house stands on the beach, and a short way in was a fine garden, 

 with fruit trees and bushes in plenty. But the sand has put horticulture to 

 flight, and the garden is now reduced to very small dimensions ; the tops of 

 the bushes may be seen sticking up through the sand. If it goes on as it has 

 been doing, a very short intei"val will elapse ere the whole flat will become 

 as barren as the beach below. 



Proceeding now to the other side of the harbour, we find an extensive flat 

 or spit, nearly covered at each spring tide. The sand does not seem to 

 accumulate here, for the spit lies freely exposed to the wind, both out and in ; 

 what the north-easter blows on is just blown ofi* again by the south-wester, 

 and in this way a sort of uniformity is maintained. A little way round the 

 corner, however, towards Hay ward's Point, the sand assumes a shape which 

 merits a word or two in passing. The beach here is hemmed in by perpen- 

 dicular rocks, rising some 200 or 300 feet above the tide. Standing near the 

 water, and looking upward, the sand seems to lie against the rocks. But this 

 is not so ; for on getting up to the top of the bank, a most singular fact is 

 discovered. Instead of the sand covering the base of the precipice, there is a 

 long narrow valley, with nximerous trees and bushes growing luxuriantly in 

 it ; the sand, which slopes gently up from the beach, ending all at once in a 

 steep declivity. 



