210 
NAPIER 
CHAP. 
ones I knew. Many were there, and only I seemed 
changed. 
The little country town had grown into an imposing 
one, and rows of well-to-do-looking shops lined the 
streets. The fern-lands were cleared, and homesteads 
were dotted about, where before we had picnicked and 
gathered ferns in dense bush. Only the little river 
was the same, running over its pebbly stones and 
under the shadows of the great tree ferns, then through 
the town and the black iron sand to the sea, where 
the great peaked sugar-loaf rocks, Ngamotu (the 
islands) stand out against the sky, the old and 
strongest fortress of the Ngatiaroa tribes of long 
ago. We climbed up to Marsland Hill, the site 
of the old barracks, and looked down upon the old 
church and its holy acre, where so many of our brave 
men lie under the shadow of those great pines. 
My few days at New Plymouth literally flew by, 
but there were other memories to be renewed, and I 
left one bright morning with Mr. Halcomb, and drove 
out to his farm at Urenui — a splendid road the whole 
way and farms as far as the eye could reach. The 
dairy industry has made rapid strides here, for the 
warm, moist climate is so favourable to it. All the 
crops looked splendid. There is so little frost here 
that you can eat new potatoes all the year round. 
Waitara in this way had grown into a large town with 
freezing -works and a small shipping trade. From 
there, on we went through the same rich grass lands, 
cultivated fields, and browsing sheep and cattle. We 
turned into the gates of Ferngrove — this pretty home- 
stead — just in time for lunch, and I ate my first New 
Zealand peach and fig, which were delicious. The 
afternoon was lazily spent in wandering round. What 
a glorious day it was ; the bees buzzed in the thick 
