1 
INTRODUCTION. 
HEN the white man first saw New Zealand, fires kindled by the 
Natives, by lighting, and in some rare cases by volcanoes, had already 
at various times in the past reduced the total amount of the primeval 
forests. The replacing plants were mainly grasses in the south and bracken in the 
north. But untouched and unspoiled areas of immense extent still remained in 
both Islands, and along their borders in many places regeneration was in pro¬ 
gress. The forests varied in type from south to north and from higher to lower 
altitudes. There were the beech forests with their roof of feathery branchlets 
and their almost bare floor. There were the open mixed forests admitting sub¬ 
dued light through their dome-like crowns to a floor richly carpeted with ferns 
and mosses. There were the dense mixed forests with their sub-tropical tangle of 
creeping and climbing plants. There were the kauri forests with their massive 
boles of nearly even diameter, their heavily-framed and almost continuous roof, 
their sparse undergrowth, and their floor laden with precious resin poured out from 
the exuberant life of the trees. The mixed forests with their open glades and 
shrub-clothed margins yielded a great wealth of nectar and berries and insects, 
and there accordingly might be heard throughout the year the chatter and songs 
of countless birds. 
For these wonderful and beautiful forests European settlement meant gen¬ 
erally a war of extermination. The best and noblest of the trees were easily 
destroyed; only under special conditions and in long periods of time could they 
be regenerated. Increasing numbers of settlers needed timber for their buildings 
and fences; they needed open pasture for their sheep and cattle. Felling and burn¬ 
ing were necessary, but went too often beyond necessity. Valleys and hills were 
swept bare over far-flung miles in every direction. And, as if axe and fire and 
domestic animals were not enough, goats and deer were liberated to assure the luin 
of the native forest flora by killing the seedlings and saplings. 
But British people are lovers of trees. Many of the settlers deeply deplored 
the destruction in which they were taking part. They wished to have trees about 
their homes and upon the waste places of their farms. Gladly would they have 
restored some of the native bush had that been possible; it was not possible. Choice 
lay between a treeless countryside and the planting of exotics. What happened 
was like a decree of nature. Nurserymen everywhere became busy propagating 
and distributing conifers from North America, eucalypts from Australia, and 
