open valley, at the confluence of two main branches of the Wairau, one flowing from S.W. and the other from S.E. Hitherto our course had been nearly south for about 18 miles, excepting only an easterly inclination within the last two miles. The valley, mainly covered with black birch forest, is very level, and walled-in on either side by rocky and precipitous mountains.

Along the sides of the river, lie at intervals small open flats of grass, of good quality, but now, however, in places rough with spear grass and prickles; these open spaces become larger and more frequent as the head of the valley is approached and a higher level attained, until, finally, the black birch is found, rather in clumps and patches than presenting the appearance of a continuous forest.

In travelling up this valley, we found the bush difficult and tedious, owing to the great number of young trees that were in places growing up. We consequently crossed the river several times and kept to the shingle-bed and open flats as much as possible; but I am of opinion that a road might be carried the whole way along the west side of the valley, with perhaps one or two side cuttings. However, in any case, it would be unnecessary to cross the river more than twice, once below and once above a place where the river, whose fall is always considerable, forms a kind of rapid, about 13 miles above the open valley at the “Top House.”

At a rough estimate, I should say that a good line of road might be made by cutting through about eight or nine miles of very easily cleared bush land, emerging at intervals upon open ground. There is very little, if any, soft or swampy ground, and the tributary brooks that fall from the mountains, with the exception of two from east to west, just above the rapids, are few and insignificant.

The road might, however, be made passable by more frequent deviations into the open spots, at a very much smaller outlay of labour and capital than I have indicated, whilst a somewhat greater amount might be very advantageously expended upon it.

On the morning then of March the 28th we found ourselves halted at a clump of black birch trees at the junction of the two branches of the Wairau. They flowed out of a formidable barrier of mountains in our front, whose rocky peaks rose darkly above us, patched here and there, in spite of the long continued summer’s heats, with dazzling dots of snow. A spur, more rounded and grassy than the rest, descended from the very centre of the chain to the junction of the two streams.

We pitched our tent, left our loads, and ascended by this spur to the top of the range; light mists floating about the summit slightly impeded our view, yet did not, from an altitude of nearly 7,000 feet above the sea level, prevent us from ascertaining that the inland grass country lay below us.

At our feet to the S.E., lay a valley dotted with miniature lakes or pools; beyond and around it, grassy and bare-topped hills and narrow valleys. In the distance, bearing about east, we made out the landward Kaikoras amongst clouds and mists, with the Barefell Pass range. Immediately on our left, the S.E. branch of the Wairau flowed out of a rock-bound gorge, whilst to our right little was visible but craggy and snow-patched mountains, in which the valley of the West Wairau seemed soon to break and lose itself.

Turning back to re-descend the mountain to our camp, the eye followed the dyke-like valley of the upper Wairau, with its dark forest, its river bends, and its patches of yellow grass, cleaving straight through a chaos of rocks, crags and mountains, till it reached the open country at the “Top House.”

Early on the following morning we resumed our loads, and a little after noon found ourselves once more on the summit of the mountain. We had taken this course, because, whilst neither of the river branches promised a good line of road, we knew that after traversing the mountain range, and viewing it from either side, we should probably be better able to judge of any pass that might exist.

The northern ascent of the mountain had been steep and long, but not rugged; the descent on the southern side proved worse. Turning a little along the ridge to the left, we descended a steep shingle slip of some 300 or 400 feet, and following down a gully with loose stones, alpine plants and finally black birch, found ourselves, by about four, p.m., on the S.E. side of the range, and to our joy once more upon the banks of the East Wairau, which here pierces right through the mountains, and leads directly to our camp of the morning.

Although the day was drawing to a close, I determined not to rest till I had ascertained the practicability of the gorge. I followed it down till it opened out into the valley we had left that morning, about a mile above the junction. Having done so, late at night I returned to our camp. The gorge, remarkable for the precipices that rise above it, for huge isolated