quite possible to walk upon the tops of the trees without falling to the ground. Far beyond this, mountain after mountain rolled away in the distance, until the eye rested on the grand expanse of Kawhia Harbour, dotted with its broad inlets and numerous headlands, which rose in picturesque beauty above the deep-blue outline of the distant sea. North-westerly from this point the bright waters of Aotea Harbour lay embosomed in a semicircle of hills, and, beyond again, Mount Karioi rose from the borders of the ocean to an altitude of 2300 feet. East and south of this the Whanga Ranges bounded the horizon, and right opposite to Pirongia the bold peaks of Maungakawa and Maungatautari rose into view. Between this wide area there were lower hills which radiated from the mountain ranges, but it could be plainly seen that the greater portion of the country was formed of level plains dotted here and there with small lakes and extensive swamps, through which the Waikato and the Waipa, with their numerous tributaries, could be traced as they wound for miles away in the distance. Here and there upon the cultivated flats the white houses of the settlers, embowered amidst orchards and gardens, dotted the landscape, while Alexandra, Kihikihi, Hamilton, and Cambridge, and numerous other settlements, served to mark the spots where future cities may ere long grow into existence, and add wealth and prosperity to this fertile land. It was, however, when gazing in the direction of the south, where the King Country lay stretched for miles before us in all the wide, rich beauty of a virgin country, that the grandest natural scenery burst upon the view, and charmed the imagination with the thought of a bright future. The aukati or boundary-line could be distinctly traced, on the one side by farms and homesteads, and on the other by the huts of the natives; but beyond these features there was nothing to denote that the territory to the north was the abode of enlightenment, and that the land to the south was a primeval wilderness still wrapped in the darkness of primitive barbarism.
TE RAIA NGAKUTU TE TUMUHUIA.
(Head Chief of the Ngatitematera tribe. Last of the New Zealand Cannibals.)
THE LAKE COUNTRY.
CHAPTER IV.
AUCKLAND TO OHINEMUTU.
The flank movement—Auckland Harbour—Tauranga—Whakari—The tuatara—En route—The Gate Pa—All that remains—Oropi—A grand forest—Mangorewa Gorge—Mangorewa River—A region of eternal fire.
A little short of five months after the events which I have recorded in the previous chapters took place, I embarked on board the S.S. Glenelg, for Tauranga. I had selected to travel by this way as I had determined to reach the Lake Country by the East Coast, pass through the centre of the island, enter the King Country at its southern extremity, and, if possible, carry on my explorations northward to Alexandra. Owing to the unsatisfactory condition of the Native Question at that time, the undertaking appeared to be a hopeless one, but I resolved to give it a fair trial, and as the Glenelg glided over the calm waters of Auckland Harbour, half the difficulties which had previously presented themselves to my mind seemed to disappear with the fading rays of the sun as they played over the water, cast fitful shadows athwart the romantic islands of the bay, and lit up the tall spires of the receding city.
As we sped on in the golden twilight, some of the most attractive views were obtained of the renowned harbour which places the northern capital of New Zealand at the head of all antipodean cities for grandeur of scenery, and as a mart for commerce, and which, in time to come, should transform it into the Naples of the Pacific. On every side the most delightful prospects unfolded themselves; the city with its forest of houses rising and falling over hill and valley, and clustering around the tall, grassy cones, once the scene of raging volcanic fires, next crowned with Maori pas, and now dotted with neat villas. Small inlets and jutting points of land came constantly before the gaze; the forest-clad mountains of Cape Colville and Coromandel mounted boldly above the sea; in the east, Kawau, the island home of Sir George Grey, rose in the north, backed by the rugged peaks of the Barrier Islands; while right in the centre of this grand picture the volcanic cone of Rangitoto towered to a height of 800 feet above the wide expanse of water. Every point, each sinuous bay and jutting headland, was rich in a varied vegetation of the brightest green, and as the softly tinted light—violet, crimson, and yellow—so characteristic of New Zealand sunsets, mingled with the deep blue of the sea as the shades of evening crept on, and the stars shone forth from above—the whole surroundings, as our vessel glided rapidly on her way, combined to form an ever-changing panorama of unrivalled beauty.
When, early on the following morning, we steamed into Tauranga Harbour, the sea was as smooth as a sheet of glass, the heavens were blue and cloudless, and the town, the fern-clad hills, and the mountains in the distance, completed one of the most attractive pictures of New Zealand scenery I had ever beheld. In front the neat white houses of the settlement rose from the very edge of the lake-like expanse of water, the country beyond lay stretched before the gaze in a broad expanse of green, whilst the bold outline of the coast, with its jutting headlands, extended for miles on either side.
WHAKARI, OR WHITE ISLAND.
Tauranga is not a large place, but its situation is delightful. It is built mostly along the west shore of the harbour, and commands a splendid view of the great ocean beyond, with its picturesque islands, which rise in fantastic shape, from the broad surface of the Bay of Plenty. The harbour, which is completely landlocked, and safe in all weathers, stretches out before the town in the form of an inland lake. The rugged islands of Tuhua, Karewha, and Motiti rise abruptly from the surrounding sea, while in the distance, towards the east, the geysers and boiling springs of Whakari send up their clouds of steam.
THE TUATARA.
Whakari, or White Island, which lies about thirty miles from the shore in the Bay of Plenty, is a cone-shaped mountain rising abruptly from the sea to an altitude of 860 feet. The crater, about a mile and a half in circumference, is in the condition of a very active solfatara, whose numerous geysers and boiling springs evolve at all times dense volumes of steam and sulphurous gases. There are large deposits of sulphur surrounding the crater, and several small warm lakes of sulphurous water. It lies in the line of active thermal action which stretches across the North Island through the Lake Country to the volcano of Tongariro, with which, according to native tradition, it is supposed to be connected by a subterranean channel.
The small rocky island of Karewha in the Bay of Plenty is remarkable as being the only remaining abode of the tuatara (Hatteria punctata,[15]) the largest lizard in New Zealand. It is a non-venomous reptile, about eighteen inches long, with a ridge of sharp-pointed spines like a fringe down its back, and which it raises or depresses at pleasure.
When I left Tauranga, well mounted, en route for the Lake Country, the air was delightfully fresh and balmy, and the fervid glow of the sun soon dispelled the vapoury mist that hung around. All the roads leading out of the town were white with shell, and fringed with trees, among which the tall poplar and weeping willow were conspicuous by their luxuriance, while the bright verdure contrasted pleasantly with the picturesque villas, around which all the beauties of the floral world flourished in luxuriance. Here the grass was of an emerald green, the trees looked as fresh as if growing under the influence of an English spring, the jasmine, the clematis, and the honeysuckle wound their graceful tendrils about, and whole acres of sweetbriar scented the air with its delightful perfume. The country soon opened out into broad plains and undulating hills, which rose in the form of a bold amphitheatre to the forest-clad heights beyond, until suddenly there appeared right in front of me an extensive expanse of fern.
Away over the plains, down the slopes of the ravines, over the distant hills and into the valleys beyond, fern, fern, nothing