DESCRIPTIVE NARRATIVE OE JOURNEY. 
29 
soon pitched our tent, and, seated before a cheerful fire, enjoyed 
once more a really hearty meal. 
We were compelled by heavy rains to remain here for three 
days, and during the first night the river rose so high and so 
rapidly, as to compel us to shift our camp to higher ground, the 
water rushing into our very tents. 
On the 21st of March the rain ceased a little, the river fell, and 
by tying bundles of flax sticks together on each side of the canoe 
in which the provisions had been brought up, we ventured down 
stream with the flood. We descended rapidly, although it re¬ 
quired the most careful management from our four Maories to 
take us safely over the various falls. In about an hour we passed 
the camp of Mr. John Rochfort, the surveyor, and should have much 
liked to have shaken hands with him; but the rapidity of the 
stream would not admit of our landing, and we could, therefore, 
only shout our recognition. 
A passing look at the coal seams exposed on the river bank, and 
the character of the shales and sandstone by which they were ac¬ 
companied, convinced me at once that they were of a high geologi¬ 
cal age, and of an importance not yet fully understood. At twelve 
o’clock we passed through the last gorge, formed by a low limestone 
range, and heard with pleasure the roaring of the surf on the bar. 
We soon reached the Maori pah, where we were received by Mr. 
Mackay, and the assembled Maories, with every sign of welcome. 
We remained at the pah for five days, during which time it was 
either raining, or the freshets prevented me from returning up 
the river with a canoe, exchanging thus our life in the wilderness 
for the noisy existence of a Maori pah. Instead of the soft mur¬ 
mur of the rivulet, the roaring of the larger streams, the rush of 
the wind through the tops of the high evergreen trees, forming as 
they did a splendid emerald roof over our heads, changeless and 
unfading, and the merry song and variegated notes of the fearless 
birds, which gave life to the wild scenes of untouched nature 
around us, we heard nothing but Maori songs and Maori noise 
from morning till night; insufficient, however (and this was our 
only consolation) to drown the majestic roaring of the surf as it 
flowed over the pebbly and sandy shores. 
The Maori character must have recently undergone consider¬ 
able change, for, instead of the hospitality described by a former 
explorer, they required payment for everything, not in pounds, 
shillings, and pence, which latter coins they entirely ignored, 
but in pounds only. During one day of my stay at the pah, I 
visited the lagoon on the southern bank of the Grey, near its 
mouth, which, though now the resort only of thousands of aquatic 
birds, will at some future time become an important part of its 
harbour. Another day was devoted to examining the cretaceous 
cliffs five miles north of the Grey, forming remarkably bold head¬ 
lands. 
