fastened by a chain; there was another chain fastened to a buttonhole with a clasp and keys; these I took possession of. I also took his neckerchief, which was nearly loose.

I then searched his pockets, but they were all full of sand. His face was not distorted nor cut in the least, only about the nose was a little blood to be seen. I could not leave him lying there; an hour later, and the tide would reach him again, I must draw him up to a higher spot. I could at one time have carried two men like Mr. Whitcombe, but now it was otherwise. I tried several times, but in vain; I set him upright—he was quite stiff. I knelt down on one knee, and let him fall across my shoulders, but I could not support him, and I fell to the ground. What was to be done; the tide rose nearer and nearer; I took quickly two pieces of driftwood, about six feet long, placed the body on it, and tied it with flax, then placed cross pieces on the sand; and so I succeeded in pushing it out of the reach of the sea. Here I commenced to dig a grave with my hands, but the sand was very hard, and mixed with stones. I worked more than an hour before I could get down two feet; I then laid the best piece of my blanket at the bottom, drew the body to the grave and laid it in, in the same position I had found him, his head to the south. I then wrapped the blanket round him, laid his coat on top, and filled in the grave, drawing all the sand from round about. I laid some logs of wood on top of all, to prevent birds or dogs tearing away the sand, and then marked the spot carefully. I had got tender-hearted during this sad performance, and I felt tears roll down my cheeks. Having finished, and the evening coming on, I had to think about myself. I wished greatly to make a fire, but I had no materials. I went to the hut where the things had been left by the Maoris and searched carefully for matches, but in vain; I found, however, some half-burnt rag in the chimney, which had been used to stop up a hole. I drew it out and found it dry. I looked for a piece of quartz, and commenced striking fire with my pocket knife; at last the rag caught. I blew it into a blaze, and in a short time had a little fire in the hut. I took a fire-brand, and set fire to an enormous heap of driftwood; when it burned up, I could not approach within many yards of it. I dried everything I had picked up, took a mouthful of water, and lay down. I had warmth enough all night from the enormous fire, but I trembled still, and even now, while I write this, I feel the effects of this hardship.

Next morning early, I left this mournful place, passing through the dense bush along the river. I could not go further than about three miles; at night I lay down, without being able to catch anything to eat all day. I felt famished with hunger; suddenly I heard something crying out in the distance, but could not distinguish what it was. I jumped up and ran as quickly as possible in the direction, but I could not hear it again. I lay down once more, but now I could distinctly hear the barking of a dog. Again, I went in the direction; it was dark night, and at last I saw the light of a fire. I went to it and found a hut, with a Maori, his wife and child. I asked him if he had anything to eat. He said, no: That he had been a long time waiting for Dixon’s ship, but could wait no longer, and was about to leave the spot next morning. I said he surely must have something; I had tobacco and money about me, and would pay him well. I told him my misfortunes, and gave him four sticks of tobacco; he then gave me a couple of very small potatoes that were cooking—they tasted delicious. During the night he caught a few small fish in a fixed net. He gave me again a couple of potatoes and three small fish, but not half enough; still I felt better. I asked him for something to take with me. At first he refused, but afterwards was persuaded, and gave me two handfuls, for which he demanded ten shillings, giving me, besides, an old cap. In making our bargain, he saw I had some tobacco left, and asked for some of it. I replied, “My tobacco is just as dear as your potatoes; if you had been more liberal, I would have given you nearly all this; but now I won’t.” I packed up everything and left him. I travelled all day through the bush, but the weather was very fine. In the evening, I had got about three miles up the river, when suddenly I heard some one speaking near the river. I cooed; they answered me; I immediately ran to the spot, and saw a canoe with five Maoris going down. They came up to me, and expressed great surprise to see me there alone. I asked them for some food; they said they had none—they were coming from the diggings, and going to the Buller river. I then asked them to put me across, which they immediately did. I went on the same evening to the diggings, where I found two Maoris and their wives. I asked them for some food, and related my misfortunes; they had little or nothing for themselves, but they gave me a small piece of a roast wood-hen, and told me they had set eel-baskets in the river, and, if any were caught, I would get a good breakfast. I slept in the hut, and next morning early they looked at the baskets, but there were no eels in them. I ate half the potatoes I had brought with me, gave the Maoris some tobacco, and went on my way. I determined now to leave the Teramakau, and go towards Lake Brunner, where I hoped to find Mr. Howitt’s party. Should I fail to do so, I felt certain I could get as many eels and wood-hens as I wanted. I followed up the Ohou creek, walking in the water. In the evening I had nearly reached the summit of the range, when I camped for the night. Next day I crossed it, and went down the other side. I could not tell whether I was too much to the right or left; I had lost my pocket-compass, but by the sun I could tell in what direction I should find Lake Brunner. I came to a stream, which I followed down, and passed the night in a very wet plain. I tried to eke out my potatoes as long as possible, and only to eat them at the greatest need.