MARCH IN NEW ZEALAND. 
45 
on various grounds, until at last to get rid of him his host 
exclaimed, “ Sit on the back of Tutunui, he will take you over ; 
but be sure to let him go when you reach shallow water.” 
Kae, however, when he neared his village, stamped on the 
whale and drowned it, and then called upon his people to 
devour Tutunui. But the owner of the whale, recognising 
the smell o£ the roasting flesh, determined on revenge. A 
party of women crossed, and knowing Kae by the whale flesh 
that adhered to his jagged teeth, by the aid of powerful en- 
chantments carried him off. He was killed and eaten — an 
awful warning to those who steal pet whales. Ever since 
poor Tutunui’s flesh was covered with veronica leaves in the 
native ovens, these leaves have, upon exposure to fire, shown 
marks of the whale fat. 
Owing doubtless to the abnormal rainfall, I notice many 
shrubs flowering now — the karamu, that later is covered with 
quantities of coral buds ; the kaiwhiria, with its delicious smell 
of bruised lemon peel, and others. None of our woodland 
berries are fit to eat, but many are beautiful to look at, 
especially the scarlet round berries of the tough and un- 
breakable supple-jack, and the brick red fruit of the scented 
kaiwhiria. 
With the colder weather the kingfishers are once more 
coming into the gardens and about the lawns. Their brilliant 
colours flash at each dip of their undulating flight, and their 
harsh cries are again to be heard round the margin of the 
lake. The cuckoos have left us for the warmer suns of 
Australia and the islands of the South Pacific. The tui, 
however, is musical in the bush, and in the chiller mornings 
of March, as well as in the warm dawns of November, his 
liquid notes are early to be heard. 
The lengthening nights of March are musical too with the 
trilling and singing of the black cricket. Sometimes the Maori 
children catch these insects ; under a tumbler or glass they 
sing uninterruptedly. The black cricket is a native of Fiji, 
I believe, and has probably come over in cases of oranges 
and bananas. At any rate these insects do not hatch till the 
full heat of summer has warmed the earth, and are seldom 
heard before early autumn. I do not remember having heard 
them out of the North Island. They are to be seen most 
plentifully when the sun comes out after warm rain, and in 
hot still nights, when a breeze holds from the north, the air 
is quite full of their pleasant cheerful music. 
In our northern autumn the continuous shrilling and trilling 
of these insects is quite a feature in the season. I am sorry 
to say I know very little of their life habits. I have found 
them, however, year after year inhabiting the same natural 
holes in hill-sides. They die upon the first approach of real 
cold, and the frosts bring a new silence to the winter nights. 
It is about this time of year too that the wild pigs begin 
