miles long, and nearly a mile wide, through the centre of which runs a small but rapid stream—unnamed. At the termination of the flat the valley is entirely filled to the edges of the forest with the shingle bed of the river, which winds through it in several small channels. Between these shingle beds and the ranges, however, lies a belt of level ground, which offers unusual facilities for making a road by simply clearing off the scrub and timber. About a mile farther up, small grass flats occasionally take the place of the shingle, until a point about 23 miles from the Lake is attained, when the forest closely hems in the river, and the rocky spurs of the mountains run into the bed, confining the water to a narrow channel. By making a double journey, we got all our stores, &c., up to the head of the last flat, which is on the west bank (camp 3), crossing the channel of the Makaroro five times on gravelly bars, in about two feet of water. As the contingency then arose of our being detained by freshets on our return, I deemed it prudent to make a cache here of seven days’ provisions.

Above this flat the Makaroro hurris through a narrow, boulder-strewn gorge for about a mile, when the channel turns abruptly to the east, and the river issues from an immense chasm, the vertical cliffs of which ascend to the height of 300 feet. Between these, the river—now a foaming torrent—rushes through, and over, and under enormous blocks of rock, the debris of landslides, whilst the rocks in situ, tilted at an angle of 85 or 90 degrees, sufficiently indicate the violent convulsions that rent the mountains asunder, and formed the present channel. At the bend of the river it is joined by the Fish Stream, up the bed of which we proceeded in search of a route, till stopped by vertical rocky cliffs, rising to a great height on either side, and confining the stream in a deep narrow channel, so as to render further progress in that direction impossible. We then sought for a road along the west bank of this stream, and struck the track originally cleared by Dr Haast; but owing to the rugged nature of the ground over which this track passed, and to the circumstance that portions of it had been blocked up and obliterated by fallen timber and recent landslips, it was quite impassable.

On the following day I detached a party to find and clear a road. Unfortunately they ascended too high on the ranges, and after cutting a broad path for two miles we had to abandon it, and I caused the inscription “No Road” to be cut on the trees at the entrance, so as to prevent future travellers being misled. As the direction of the great rent forming the pass was clearly discernible through the timber, I set off next morning with Jack to seek a better route, at the same time directing Mr Coates and one of the men to cross the Makaroro at the junction of the Fish Stream, and explore the country on the east bank of the latter. After penetrating the bush about three miles, and finding a comparatively easy route down the ranges, we again struck the Fish stream coming from the west, and running between precipitous rocky banks through a deep ravine, which is apparently a lateral fissure of the great rent forming the Pass. Crossing this channel, the bed of which is strewn, and in places almost blocked up with massive fragments of rock, we continued in the direction of the Pass, and in about half a mile came to the Pass Creek, a shallow stream, the banks of which consist of loose shingle. We travelled up the course of this creek some distance, till it began to take an easterly direction, when we again entered the forest on the western bank, and shortly came upon a blazed track leading back to the Fish Stream. Leaving this behind we went forward towards the north, where the light gleaming low through the forest indicated the existence of the Pass. Here the snow lay very deep amongst the scrub and fallen timber, rendering travelling extremely unpleasant. About a mile further on we again struck Dr Haast’s track, where it re-enters from the creek, and followed it down till a small rill of water oozing from the swamp moss, and flowing towards the north, assured us that we had found the Pass of which we were in search. We then returned to the camp, blazing the route for a mule-track.

On our way we met Mr Coates, who reported that a feasible route could not be found on the east bank of the Fish Stream, where the mountain sides rise abruptly in steps or terraces to the summit. I rained so incessantly during the whole of the following day that nothing could be done; but next morning we cut and cleared a track to the Fish Stream, and brought up the mules and loading. (Camp 4.) One day was entirely occupied in devising and constructing a passage across the Stream. After felling several trees in the attempt to bridge over the chasm, and seeing them dashed to splinters on the rocks, we found a small watercourse, by clearing which of the greater obstacles we were enabled to bring the unloaded mules to the water’s edge, and drive them across. On the other side a small recess in the rocky cliffs offered facilities for the formation of a roadway to the top of the bank. This we effected by fixing strong saplings (or rather young trees) longitudinally, and morticing in cross pieces, then filling the interstices with fascines of scrub, and covering the whole with stone and gravel. The stores and provisions were slung across on a rope with a running guy attached, and the crossing was then completed. (Camp 5.)

Beyond the Fish Stream the ground is less broken, so that the Pass itself is easily traversed. Indeed, the depression which forms this remarkable Pass may be said to commence at the Fish Stream and terminate at the head of the Haast Valley, forming a distinct bed of shingle drift about four miles square, heavily timbered throughout, and having, as it appeared to me, a slight general inclination to the west. It is quite impossible to detect the existence, or the exact position of any saddle; and it is not until the flowing of a small rivulet confirms the fact, that the traveller can realise that he has really crossed to the northern watershed of the Southern Alps, the mountain peaks of which, crowned with eternal snows and seamed with stupendous glaciers arise on either hand in majestic sublimity, to an elevation of from 7000 to 9000 feet, whilst the greatest altitude attained in the Pass is little more than 1600 feet, or about 600 feet above the level of Lake Wanaka.

At the termination of the Pass we were brought to a stand by a vertical cliff (camp 7) 100 feet in depth, composed of shingle and loose debris, and overlooking two small streams, one coming from the east and the other from the west, and both uniting in one broad stream flowing northwards. This was the Haast River. Descending the cliff I found a break, or depression in the bank of the western stream, leading by an easy incline to the summit, presenting the means of forming a mule-track, which we cleared and levelled before breakfast. At the head of the valley thus obtained, the left bank of the Haast is bounded by a vertical rocky bank varying in height, but as truly defined as if it had been cut by human agency. This continues for several miles, receding however from the river. About a mile below the junction of the two streams, the right bank consists of low flat country, covered with timber and scrub, and presenting indications of the existence of the ancient river bed to the eastward of its present course. The stream being now confined in a narrow channel, we cut a track through this bush for about a mile, when we emerged upon a narrow shingle bank, which soon widened, and the valley opened out. Occasional flats of small extent covered with grass and scrub now appeared; between these the stream, rapidly increasing in volume, wound its way on from side to side of the valley. We forded the water, in one day, fourteen times, for the convenience of travelling in open ground; but the land on either side is quite level for the greater distance, so that a track might easily be formed by clearing the bush. Five miles from the head a small gorge compelled us to re-enter the bush on the right bank, cutting through which for a quarter of a mile we again entered upon a succession of small flats. Bordering one of these, on the left bank, I observed a tree peculiarly blazed, thus: [an oblong and two squares.] Judging from the appearance of the surrounding bark, these blazes must be at least seven or eight years old. Several other trees in the vicinity were similarly marked with single longitudinal blazes.

About eight miles down the valley (camp 8), our progress was effectually stopped by an almost unbroken series of rocky gorges, through which the river foams in a succession of cascades and rapids, over and amidst huge piles of rock which encumber its channel for a distance of eleven miles. On either side the banks rise vertically, frequently overhanging the river in loosely-jointed crags, slips from which are of frequent occurrence; or if a break occurs in these, it is so covered with rugged debris as to be impassable beyond a few rods. After carefully exploring the country on either side, we found it everywhere so rugged and broken that to form a mule-track with such implements as we carried (two small tomahawks and a pick and shovel), would have necessitated at least a fortnight’s delay. Huge boulders or blocks of rock—fallen long since from the surrounding ranges—covered with thick moss, with wide fissures between, where the soil supported on roots of trees bent beneath the tread, or gave way altogether, to the great discomfort and frequent injury of the incautious traveller; together with the dense bush and constant moisture resulting from the snow which drifts in any weather from the adjacent mountain tops, and melts into rain as it descends—all tend to render this region one of the most gloomy and forbidding that it was ever my lot to traverse. Fortunately, by following the cut track, the whole distance may now be accomplished in