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forest, the track winding round the intervening
ridges, in many places so narrow as barely to
afford a footing. On reaching the foot of this
range, the track winds along the banks of the
Maitai river until it enters Nelson.

"To make this track at all practicable, would
necessarily involve a very large outlay. Many
substantial bridges would be required to span the
streams, which, although at this season are easily
forded, after heavy rains or thaws, are swollen to
a considerable size; the banks in many places
showing a rise of from ten to fifteen feet. The
impracticability of avoiding many of the very
steep ascents would also render the road at all
times difficult, and, excepting as a mule track,
useless for any description of vehicle.

"As the track remains at present, it is tedious
enough for foot passengers; in many places
already much overgrown, and through its whole
extent the stumps remaining a little above the
ground, the larger trees having been allowed to
fall across and remain as they were felled. The
whole distance can be accomplished in two sum-
mer's days."

Journey from the head of the Pelorus through the

Kaituna Pass to the Wairau Plains, by Mr.

Blackney.

On February 19th, at noon, Lieutenant Jones,
Dr. Jolliffe, and myself left the ship to travel
through the Kaituna Pass to the Wairau Plains.

We arrived at the village, Orakauhea, where we
engaged our natives at 3s. 6d. per diem. This
village has about forty natives, belonging to the
Rangatani tribe. The river here (Kaituna) is not
more than thirty yards broad at h. w., and the
water always fresh. It is one mile within the
mouth, and situated on the east bank, the land
about it cultivated with wheat, maize, and pota-
toes. They do not appear to grow pumpkins,
melons, or onions, as in the northern island.

On the 20th, we crossed to the west bank, and
commenced our journey towards Wairau, accom-
panied by several natives. In half an hour we
crossed the Whakaibu, twenty feet broad, its bed
pebbles; it rises in the hills, forming the western
boundary of the valley. Three miles from Orakia,
where we left the surveyor's (Barnicoat's) track,
taking the native track at the suggestion of our
guides, who said it was the shortest; but we found
it very difficult, having to crawl beneath low trees
and among supple jacks, and occasionally slung
by a nettle, that gave infinitely more pain than
those at home. At 10, a.m., we crossed to the
east bank, and came to a small pond called Teko-
pua, in which the natives caught eels, by groping
for them in holes which they made near the
edges; each eel weighed 2 lbs. At 11.30 we
again came on Barnicoat's track, and at noon
crossed the Rorarariki and Kariki streams, and
came upon an open fern land, which is judged to
be 200 feet above the level of the sea. Within an
hour we crossed the small streams of Awakiri,
Teawheki, and Motupuki, heading the Kaituna at
Orameo. Here we found the water good and
clear, running over a bed of pebbles, and about
eight miles S.S.E. from where we started. Three
quarters of an hour from this brought us to the
Wairau plains.

Our principal route had been through a level
forest. Our guides never failed to point out the
Totara tree, saying they were highly prized by the
white man. They are scarce; the highest eighty
feet, and twenty feet in girth.

From the head of the Kaituna to the head of
Areare (a branch of the Wairau), the distance is
not more than a mile and a half. It is merely a
swamp where the latter ends in the forest.

The small streams mentioned were easily
crossed, the season being dry; but it is very
difficult at other times.

We saw numbers of parrots and pigeons. The
robin was so tame as to allow itself to be fed by
hand. The natives killed all they could lay hold
of for baits to catch eels.

The first view of the Wairau plains was unin-
viting, the weather giving it a cheerless aspect, and
the drought had been excessive.

About a quarter of an hour after leaving the
forest, during which time our road was on the
slope of hills, varying from 200 to 400 feet high,
bare, and lately burnt, we crossed a swamp near the
head of the Areare, and ascended about 300 feet
of a bare ridge, which terminating the Kaituna
valley, is also a part of the northern boundary to
the Wairau plains. Crossing this is a seam of
quartz rock, meeting the level at an angle of 20°.
Having descended the hill, our road was at the
foot, and several swamps were crossed, only
passable because the season was dry.

Having left our natives behind with the luggage,
we were without guides, and, missing the road, we
struck off to the right, towards what appeared to
be a whare; this whare, on approaching it, re-
vealed to us a settler's house, which, though built
of wood, and thatched, had nevertheless a homely
appearance. The owners, Michael Mahar and his
wife, welcomed us.

Tuesday, February 21st, at 7, a.m., our natives
and their companions arrived, having passed the
night at the foot of the quartz hill, which we as-
cended. We then started for the native pah at
Pungarauawite, crossing the Wairau river a quarter
of an hour afterwards. The greatest depth was
about three feet, and the strength of the current,
where we waded, two or three knots. The whole
breadth was not more than 300 yards—there were
dry patches; yet this short distance made our feet
sore, having walked it bare-footed; it was difficult
to keep a firm footing.

Since September last very little rain has fallen
in the Wairau, so that the river at this time was
as low as it ever is likely to be. And yet in
October the eldest son of Mahar was lost here.
He was on horseback with his brother; both
arrived at the edge of the river, about 10, p.m.,
and the youngest, having found the proper spot,
crossed in safety; the other told him he would
soon follow, that he was taking off his spurs, and
desired him to ride towards home. Supposing
him to have stopped on the bank of the river, not
venturing to cross until daylight, no anxiety was
felt. In the morning his horse was found, and
though many people were for three weeks con-
stantly looking for the rider, yet nothing was
found of him until a week before our arrival, al-
though it was six months since he was lost. It
is supposed that his horse slipped, and being
spirited, threw him, and that he was swept down
by the current into some deep hole.

In the winter, travellers are frequently detained
by the rains, which cause the river to swell until
it is more than a quarter of a mile broad, and
makes it otherwise impassable by the strength of
current.

At the village of Pungarauawiti on the west
bank of the Wairau, the natives were very hos-
pitable, giving us eels, potatoes, damper, butter,
and tea, and never hinting at payment."